With things somewhat back to normal – with no urgent things to do, cities to rebuild or demonic invasions to thwart – the circle split it up once more. Speaker and Shimmer remained in Lookshy to help with the repairs of ancient weapons and devices that would help with the destruction of Deep Rot. It also turned out that Cash had evidently negotiated things so that part of the circle’s payment for Lookshy’s help against Deep Rot was repair services by Speaker… though at the rate Speaker was going through busted old first age war machines or shaping up spare parts at the Souforge, that debt was quickly covered, not that that stopped Speaker for fixing more things.

Cash and Sunrise had returned to Sunhill, to tend to things there. Cash needed to set up a trade route or two to Plenilune, and Sunrise… disappeared one day. Shortly thereafter a lesser celestial messenger god appeared before each of the other members of the circle, delivering four identical letters.

The letter read, in old realm written in golden ink on impossibly smooth silk paper:

“Dear Circlemates, this is Sunrise Glow.
I write to you from Yu-Shan where I am undergoing training in preparation of the attack on Deep Rot.
Evidently the Gold Faction of Sidereals have managed to convince the Bronze Faction to actually cooperate, to the point that the Convention of Deathlords has authorized support for us. This doesn’t mean that we get anything from them, but it does mean that others are allowed to help us – which is what the gold faction is doing with me.
So no heavenly Legions will come to our aid, though I have been made privy to a number of corrupt and ineffective celestial officials that I shall need Sully and Cash’s help to correct and dicipline next time you are here – and I know that my letter will be read by others before reaching you, so that’s as much a request to you my friends, as it is a declaration of intent (not a threat) to the corrupt gods who dare defy Celestia’s chosen and hinder our rightous efforts. Heath Rose did not approve of me writing that, but she can suck eggs.
Yours truly, Sunrise Glow of the Solar Zenith caste
PS: The training I’m getting – singing lessons, in weaponized singing”

“Well that’s nice” Shimmer noted.

Speaker nodded, careful not to slip from Shimmer’s rainslick feathers as he sat on her back. The heavy sack of spare parts behind him didn’t shift, but then again it was secured with Shimmer’s essence webbing – though Speaker hadn’t been entirely happy with putting pressure on the crystals and other impossible objects he had produced earlier that day at the Soulforge.

“Oh and did you see how that unicorn colt with the book cutie mark looked at me when I shapeshifted? Priceless, I thought he was gonna piss himself” Shimmer quipped, still amused by the event.

With a chuckle Speaker agreed: “True, but you were in the form of a slug on the brow of his nose at the time… poor thing though he had discovered a new species of silver and purple slug”

“Honestly – this is the east… every rock you turn over will have a bug or something that no pony has ever seen before” Shimmer said in a more unimpressed tone.

Arriving in Lookshy later that evening, Shimmer flew in over the city to reach their port district town house. It was a nice house in one of the many gated communities within the district, though Shimmer had ensured that all the guards that patrolled the area knew of her and her warform, so nobody would start sounding alarms whenever she arrived.

There was a delightful mood in the area, with servants and home-owners everywhere going about their business and chatting curiously as Shimmer and Speaker landed. Indeed, all of Lookshy was abuzz with the recently announced three-hundred and fourty second Lookshyan Games – everyone was talking about who would participate in what contest, or what foreign contestants might show up, especially now with all these strange Solars and Lunars running about.

Putting the sack full of wyld-shaped spare parts and energy crystals aside, Speaker reviewed what little mail had come in during the day.
“Anything new and interesting? More party invitations? Deaththreats? Lookshy Games event invites?” Shimmer asked in jest, succinctly summarizing the kind of mail that Speaker had been receiving since the circle’s return to Lookshy from Plenilune.

The two party invitations Speaker looked at didn’t seem that much out of the ordinary: “Another tea social invite from the Denansdor Historical Society, and an invitation to a rain-season wrap-up party at some Gens Amilar social club”

“More from the historical society? Haven’t they picked your brain enough about the first age?” Shimmer quipped, having found most of the events hosted by the society dreadfully boring – though discovering that it was a cover for the personal cult of Tu Yu, which made sense since he was the old god of the original first age city that had stood where Lookshy was now, had been at least mildly interesting.

Speaker tossed the invitation from the historical society in the trash. The rainy season wrapup party looked interesting, though he’d need to run it by the circle’s security inspectorate liason to vet the hosts – not something that Speaker felt was necessary, but Yushoto Risotto’s orders were quite clear: Speaker had to clear his social calendar with the coughers whenever he wanted to go anywhere he hadn’t already been in Lookshy, just to avoid going to any overly pious immaculate believers as that might lead to... trouble.

The official excuse was that Speaker was now a too valuable asset for Lookshy, though unofficially it was now well know that Risotto had become a tad paranoid after the coup attempt, though she mainly expressed it by being paranoid on behalf of others… such as Speaker.

“Is it even something you want to go to?” Shimmer wondered, as Speaker seemed to be looking at the invitation in silence.

Shrugging, Speaker looked at the rest of the rest of the letters. A few status updates on repairs he had initiated, someone had broken some of his wyld-shaped spare parts as part of screwing up a repair procedure – and an odd letter: “Hey look at this… it's for the whole circle”

Shimmer sauntered over to Speaker, letting her hips sway with lustful intent: “What is it? A house Cynis orgy invitation?”

Shooting Shimmer a bemused gaze that read ‘You would like that wouldn’t you’ Speaker said: “It's from the Lookshy Games, the committee in charge of overseeing and arranging the contests. They want to talk to us about… hehe, ok”

Snaking herself around Speaker, Shimmer peeked at the letter: “Oh… they want to know if we’re planning on participating in any of the events – cool”

The meeting was scheduled to take place a few days later, at a cultural center in the market district: It was mostly art gallery space and meeting rooms, though Shimmer found the militaristic art depicting unicorns in glorious battle, or stylized dragon motifs, not particularly interesting - it was bland standard fare for... well... the whole of Lookshy.

The meeting itself turned out to be very short-lived: Entering the wood-paneled meeting room, smelling the over-done tea on the trey in the corner, Shimmer beheld the five ponies that made up the committee from left to right: Two old mares who seemed too fat to compete in anything but cooking contests, a young-ish looking colt with a cool looking scar going from his left ear down over his snout – probably a veteran, a bookish looking unicorn stallion with glasses who appeared about as young as the veteran, so he was probably around seventy or eighty, and finally an old stallion with a nice grey mustache… and Speaker pulling her out of the meeting room.

“Come on – we’re leaving” Speaker said angrily, giving no explanation as he pulled on her leg.

Shimmer had no clue why Speaker wanted to leave so sudddenly – or why he was angry – but her bond to Speaker’s exaltation bid her to not resist him, and she didn’t see any immediate need to question that impulse.

Outside in the hallway Shimmer saw how Speaker was fuming – hard: “What’s wrong?”

“Him.. of course he would weasel his way onto a committee like this” Speaker said bitterly through clenched teeth.

Shimmer glared at Speaker with a somewhat disappointed look, but also one that spoke of worry and curiosity – subtleties that Speaker completely missed: “What? Ugh… come on – lets go home”

Standing her ground, Shimmer put a stern and firm hoof on Speaker’s shoulder: “No, you’re going to explain what the problem is, otherwise we might not be allowed to compete in any of the Games at all”

“I… the pony on the far right, did you notice him?” Speaker said, sighing deeply.

Nodding, Shimmer tried to recall any special details about the pony – but truth be told he had been quite bland for an old stallion.

“That was my older brother Bright Idea, head of my family and all-round living garbage” Speaker said with a dead serious face.

Shimmer was shocked. She had never seen Speaker speak ill of anyone so plainly – well, outside of your usual swearing at foes trying to kill him, but that didn’t really count: “Wait… Bright Idea, Bright Machine Speaker – has he changed his name to fit your exalted name?”

“No, that… hmm… no he chose that name himself at his cutesenara, I guess it was but a cruel trick of fate” Speaker seethed, looking even more angry and insulted at the thought of his name – originally chosen by Autochthon himself – being defiled in a sense by his familiar relations.

Shimmer recalled Speaker having said that he didn’t want to see or talk to his family, which was why they weren’t present at the ceremony where Speaker was awarded citizenship, along with a medal for his actions in countering Morning Dew’s coup attempt: “Ok… but now he’s in there, so we have to deal with him”

Frowning deeply to the point that Shimmer was briefly worried that his brows would tip over and fall down his ace, Speaker gritted his teeth: “I… we’ll ignore him for the time being. I doubt he got on the commute because of me anyway – sitting at the edge means he’s not head of it anyway, that was the legionnaire with the scar. We can just talk to him”

Returning to the meeting room, it didn’t take many moments before the venomous glares exchanged between the two brothers were so intense that Shimmer could swear she could taste the poison in the air – but luckily the scarred colt was quite agreeable, apparently having chosen to ignore the two’s hasty exit and return: “Ah, there you are – be seated”

Speaker found the young colt’s order amusing – but then again it wasn’t entirely uncommon for legion officer cadets to be given positions like this to give them experience in administration: “Thank you – the letter I got said that the committee wanted to get an impression of what events and contests me and my circlemates were planning on attending?”

“That is correct – Brass told me that you lot can do things that even unicorn’s can’t, and we wish to ensure that… well…” the cadet said, clearly trying to somehow explain that the circle was to keep it down on ‘unicorn level’ – but he simply wasn’t finding the words.

The sweet old granny next to the cadet nodded and smiled, saying: “What I believe the honorable chairpony is trying to say is that the Lookshy Games are geared towards mortals, godblooded and unicorns – not…” and quickly looking at the papers before her before continuing: “…the celestial exalted”

Shimmer was keeping close attention to Speaker’s brother Bright Idea – but he was remaining silent, only shooting toxic glares at Speaker who was returning fire in kind when not looking at the chairpony.

“Very well – I hope you can understand that I’ll have to ask the rest of the circle what, if any, contests and events they plan on participating in” Speaker noted, appearing happy that he had an excuse to look away from his brother as he addressed the old mare and the cadet.

The unicorn, with his pale blue mane, wavy blue mane that seemed to move as if in a constant breeze, nodded: “That’s why we asked you to come so early in the planning process – to give you a preliminary list of planned contests and events, so you can confer with your circle and get back to us. We have also been authorized to consider new events depending on your feedback, in case you or your circlemates have any suggestions based on any unique skills and abilities you would like to see tested.”

Speaker and Shimmer nodded, impressed tha the committee had been given such broad powers.

“Though we can only set up new events if additional competitors come forward – no solo acts” the cadet quickly noted.

With that, the meeting concluded. Shimmer and Speaker were asked to send the circle’s list of events that they each wanted to be part of to the committee by messenger within the next two weeks – Shimmer assured them that it shouldn’t be more than a few days to collect the information.

Back at the town house Shimmer cornered Speaker as he was about to hide himself behind a large tome on sorcery: “This is where we talk about your brother – not read books on magic”

Looking up at Shimmer from the book, his glare a furious mix of dread and anger, Speaker tried to face the Lunar down – but even as her bond to Speaker screamed at her to submit to his implied command Shimmer stood defiant, her desire to bring peace to Speaker stronger than her urge to abide his conscious wishes.

Seeing that Shimmer wasn’t backing down Speaker was faced with the uncomfortable choice of actually doing something to get her away from him – relenting and telling her his sad story…

“You already know that there’s bad blood between me and the rest of my family, especially my older brother, right?”

Shimmer nodded, sitting down in front of Speaker.

With a pained grimaze Speaker gave off a pained sigh: “My older brother, Brigth Idea, he… he chose his name aptly. When he was young he was full of good ideas, made a good deal of money, invested them wisely… but then it got the better of him”

“Made him full of himself?” Shimmer guessed – having seen similar sibling issues turn into armed skirmishes more than once her long life.
Dropping his head down in defeat, Speaker argued heavily with himself whether he should relent or keep up trying to resist – but Shimmer was just…

“You’re more or less spot on. In his youth he was an ok businesspony – nothing grand, but earned his keep, paid his employees well. Trouble was that he kept dreaming of greater ventures – kept trying to invest money in schemes that never panned out, ruined himself and everyone else he talked into investing, including much of the family… Cash is the only pony I know who can talk your ear off better” Speaker began in a dejected tone.

Shimmer listened with rapt attention, certain that there was more than just bad business advice to explain for Speaker’s feelings.

“I was never asked to invest in anything, never earned enough, but he bankrupted most of the rest of my extended family – but he always managed to come out on top himself, donated a lot of money to political charities to ensure he had friends in the right places – that’s probably how he got to be on the committee here… last I heard he had been voted pony of the year in the hinterland community he was living in” Speaker elaborated.

Nodding, Shimmer inquired: “Ok, so his political friends held a hoof over him to shelter him from the fallout of his bad business deals, leaving the rest of your family to suffer? Is that the rub?”

“Part of it… no, but he would just never own up to his share of the blame! And then there was what he did to mother….” Speaker said, sinking deeper into the lounge chair.

Shimmer cringed as Speaker told the sordid tale: A dozen or so years after Speaker’s father, Ocean Boomer, had died from the usual wear and tear of the tough life of being a mine-sweeper in the Seventh Legion navy, Speaker’s mother had met a retired pig farmer, a wealthy stallion by the name of Pork Rind. He had been nice enough to begin with, even put a very nice ring on her hoof, though they never got around to scheduling a formal marriage: “…after visiting them one day I found odd stains in her chamber-pot”

“Blood? Was he beating her?” Shimmer inquired in a worried tone, shimmying down next to Speaker.

His eyes closed and his face in a pained expression, Speaker slowly shook his head, making his beard dangle slowly from side to side: “No, it was black stains – and he didn’t go bad until after that. Turned out that she had been hiding some kind of sickness of the stomach and bowels. Food didn’t digest right in her. She deteriorated very quickly afterwards… during followups I found her oh so beloved betrothed was feeding her rotten milk and moldy bread, because he was too cheap to buy fresh food for someone who was going to die soon anyway. After that I got leave and moved in with them... lived with them for the last few weeks of her life before she died in her sleep, more bones than… anything else… I never was that good a cook, but it was better than what he would have given her, if anything at all”

Shimmer wiped the tears from Speaker’s eyes but remained silent, sensing that Speaker really needed to get this off his chest - so this had been why Speaker had retired so far away from Lookshy, from his family.

“It was after the burial that things got ugly with Bright Ideas. He was first born, so he was put in charge of mother’s estate, not that there was much to hand out. He had apparently really liked ol’ Porky, liked his money even more so – the damned fool handed over all of mother’s estate to him, every heirloom, every little worthless bit of knicknack…” Speaker said bitterly through gritted teeth.

Unsure of Lookshyan inheritance customs, Shimmer wasn’t entirely sure of what to say to that – but as Speaker explained, then it was a moot point: “Thing was, three days before her dying, during a brief moment when she was awake and lucid enough to speak, she told me to come close. She told me her will – who was to get what and so on… not that she really had much to part with, but she wanted Currant Delight, her eldest daughter, to get all her cookware for example. I was to get the big wooden spoon from over the fireplace…”

As Speaker trailed off into tears, Shimmer couldn’t help but wonder what in Creation had been so special about about a big spoon, though at the same time she understood well enough why Speaker hadn’t talked about any of this before: It obvious hurt to even think of – and the logical leap from the will to the brother giving everything to Pork Rind meant that Bright Idea had somehow ignored or even claimed that the will Speaker had was false. As Speaker noted it was the later: “He called me a liar in front of the whole family. Some believed him, a few others believed me – but without anything notarized he was the one with the authority to make that choice… and Pork Rind refused to confirm that it was true, even though he had heard it too”

“Gee I wonder why…” Shimmer quiped, giving Speaker a hug.

That had been why Speaker had sought retirement so far from Lookshy – for with most of his family refusing to see or talk to him there simply wasn’t anything left for him.

“Wait, you said that there were some that believed you?” Shimmer asked, wondering what had happened to them.

With a sorry look, Speaker professed that the last Speaker had heard of Currant Delight and her husband then they had moved to one of the other hinterland communities where she worked as a teacher and he a justicar – but they too had basically been shunned by his family to the point that they couldn't really live with them.

“My old master always said that the cruelty of the common pony was the very worst and vilest thing that had ever been put into Creation” Shimmer mused, holding Speaker tight.

The two sat quietly the rest of the evening.

In the morning Speaker woke up to the sight of a large, somewhat worn and scuffed, familiar wooden spoon, its handle covered in simple but pretty circular carvings, hanging on the wall next to the door out of his bedroom.

With a face of concern and mild annoyance, Speaker stepped into the kitchen, from which glorious and wondrous scents emanated – for they signaled Sullen Hoof’s presence – to which Speaker asked: “Did you go out and steal back my mother’s big spoon?”

“It was given freely” Sullen Hoof noted as he directed three floating spoons about, stirring in several pots and sizzling woks.
Feeling too groggy to inquire how that could be, or even how Sully had known to seek the spoon out, Speaker sat down on a chair in the corner and simply sighed – he didn’t complain or resist either when Sullen Hoof presented him with a strong cup of tea to sip on.
The shrill cry of a seagul announced Shimmer’s arrival into the kitchen, to which Sullen Hoof elegantly flung a knife in seagull-shimmer’s direction so that it lodged itself in the doorframe just before Shimmer flew in, causing her to balk, stall, drop to the ground and turn back into a pony: “Oh come on”

“You know the rule – the only animals in my kitchen are the ones we eat”

Speaker chuckled at the exchange, wondering when exactly Sully had felt it necessary to institute such a rule.

Over breakfast Sullen Hoof explained that he had found the family of the evidently recently late Pork Rind via help from some ‘friends’ in the Security Directorate, who as luck would have it, had stored most of the things from Speaker’s mother in a couple of chests. They had apparently tried to contact Bright Idea about whether he or the rest of his family wanted any of the things back, but Bright Idea's response – assuming there even was any – hadn’t reached them yet at their hinterland village.

“Also I came to them disguised as you – they apparently remembered you well, especially that you were the one who cared for your mother in her last days – so they gave me all her stuff, bought a cart from them to haul it back” Sullen Hoof noted.

With a conflicted sigh Speaker expressed his dread for the family drama he would now likely have to suffer because of this: “Can’t we just go back to fighting Deathlords and rebuilding cities?”

As per Speaker’s expressed desire to change the subject, Shimmer brought up the request tha the circle submit what kind of things they would like to participate in.

“Is there a cooking contest?” Sullen Hoof asked Speaker, surprising absolutely no-one. Speaker noted that there was indeed a cooking contest, though it was on who could make the most of field rations, many of which would be spoiled, moldy or otherwise not particularly fit for consumption. Sullen Hoof accepted the challenge.

Shimmer noted that she didn’t really think it would be that good of an idea if she joined any of the contests: “Me against unicorns? I’m not really sure if that’s a good idea…”

“Very well – personally I wouldn’t mind trying to compete in the Locked Horns tournament” Speaker said, explaining that it was the magical martial arts part of the games – and it was always one of the most popular events of the games.

“Neat – I should fight in that one too, you too Shimmer” Sullen Hoof said, giving one of the broths he was cooking up a sniff.

Shimmer shook her head: “Not happening – I heard about that Locked Horns before coming here… they don’t allow you to kill your opponent”

Giving Shimmer a somewhat horrified look, Speaker protested: “Hey, martial arts tournaments aren’t supposed to be deadly – you’re supposed to learn from the fights and better yourself”

“Weak – back west the loser of a tournament would be killed and sacrificed to Siakal” Shimmer remarked, noting that it helped up the stakes a bit and add some legit tension to things.

Sullen Hoof scoffed at how casually Shimmer had revealed that bit of barbaric information: “And I’ve been told by sailors in Nexus that most of the pit fighting arenas and tournaments usually throw in a lame slave or some other sacrificial goat for events like that, to make sure that no pony really gets hurt anyway”

Shimmer shot Sully an annoyed look upon having her boast busted.

After sending a message to Cash and Sunrise about the tournament, the three exalts settled in to wait for a reply. Sunrise’s reply came the next morning, carried by a heavenly spirit who arrived on the sun’s first rays, informing Speaker and Shimmer that Sunrise would not be participating in the games, while a week later Cash arrived with his three barges in tow, though now they were laden with goods with Sunhill and Chung Do – informing Speaker and Shimmer that he would love to join the martial arts tournament.

“You want to… ok – but Cash, you’re not that good a martial artist, you know that right?” Speaker said in a fairly concerned tone.

The transcendent scent of Sully’s latest miracle of southern spices, eastern fruits and northern shellfish made the dinner table divine to look at – but even with that, Cash was more than able to throw a coy glance at Speaker: “What, worried about a little competition?”

“No Cash, he’s worried that you’ll get hurt – Lookshy’s best martial artists will be competing in this, including their most talented celestial dragon styles practitioners” Sullen Hoof noted, himself having also dismissed the idea of participating in that specific tournament on the grounds of his Orichalcum Chef style not being very well suited to leaving survivors, considering the whirlwind of cleavers and the making ponies eat themselves and such.

Cash had only a derisive snort for the Sully: “I checked the rules already – you’re not allowed to kill your opponent. In fact, doing so will get you summarily executed”

“True, no killing, but what amounts of lethal harm is a lot different to exalts than mortals – you have experienced quite well how that works. Amputations and severe crippling injuries are allowed, and yes I can fix those, but that doesn’t mean that you want them in the first place” Speaker pointed out.

At this point Cash looked just ever so slightly conflicted – but he none the less held his ground.

Thus, the Games planning commission was informed of the events and disciplines the circle intended to partake in. Sullen Hoof was signed up for the ‘cooking with spoiled rations’ event, Shimmer was signed up to a cross-country race, Speaker and Cash was signed up for the Locked Horns tournament and Cash was additionally signed up for a debating contest.

A few weeks later the official announcement of the games was sent out across the east, and soon after did the first contestants from outside of Lookshy turn up. Marukan runners, martial artists from various schools and dojos from Nexus, a few contestants from Thorns who were quite thoroughly checked by the security inspectorate before even being allowed into the city and so on. The market district was abuzz with the newcomers, the district of schools’s dojos and salons was a swarm of ponies, as thousands sought trainers and masters to hone their skills before signing up for the games.

Amidst the hustle and bustle Speaker visited Ruby’s grave and left on it a book of sorcery, upon which he made the sign of the mare of endings, as his way of giving thanks and homage now that he had cracked the secret of sorcery once more. He also tried visiting his mother's grave, but it turned out that Bright Idea had stopped paying for that grave-slot years ago, so it had been decommissioned and used for someone else…

Author's Note

This chapter is... a bit more based in truth than I think any of you will be comfortable knowing... but hey, now you know why Speaker retired so far away from Lookshy!