Bringer of Order
Charon System, Teszura, 2102 A.D.
Her automated shuttle rattled violently. Within the occupant's mind, she could not help but imagine the awkward little metal box doing its damndest to mimic the janky performance of those curious, old terran desert lizards. The Revered Mother's lips curled, smiling at such a quaint thought, despite how much she hated the human's clunky method of planetary reentry. Between shifting uncomfortably and occasionally scratching her thigh due to the fabric on the seats and on scrunching her nose up from the thick, heavy air she still found the time to appreciate the the advances of humanity. From her perspective, it was just yesterday that these apes were banging rocks together to make fire all the while praying to nonsense gods for bountiful hunting. They'd grown, oh how they'd grown. In the blink of an eye, mankind had outgrown its self-hate, bigotry, and violence. As a race, they outgrew their past selves and their old ideologies; they had outgrown outside guidance.
They had outgrown her.
Sighing, she leaned her cheek against the viewing pane, the glass cool against her face. Emerald eyes peered through the portal, regardless of the fiery locks cascading over her face. Teszura was a lot like earth, but at the same time, so very different. Two stars peeked over the planet's curvature, one glowing white and wild, like a rowdy child of the cosmos, while its dance partner was a subdued, almost lazy brownish hue. Iona Illumina and Drowza, the humans called them. Once every two-hundred years, they touch, igniting the sky in a glorious display of beautiful, systematic perfection. It was the gravity from this unique system of stars that created the planet's special biomes and environment. From orbit, the band of habitable subtropical land positioned along the planet's equator stood out in stark contrast to its brown bands of desert and white-capped poles. Most traffic to Teszura came from the lunar colonies, seeking trade and tourism within the sprawling, gold-laden megalopolis of Korranite. However, Korranite was not her destination.
It rarely ever was.
She detested shuttle rides. Oh how she'd love to be out there. To feel the piercing chill of space against her flesh and the sense of grandness the all encompassing blackness brought with it was something no mortal would ever be able to appreciate the way that she and her kin could. As her transport entered the atmosphere, she watched as the exposed surfaces glowed a bright orange, heating up from the intense friction that such speed brough. Flames licked at the nose and wings of the craft, but all she could think of was freefalling through the sky, diving, spinning, and flipping as she wished. Such a display would not go over well with her people, though. She couldn't help to to lightly grip at her robed chest just thinking about the rejection, skepticism, and hatred that would rise from seeing her do such a thing.
The women let her mind wander as her view slowly transitioned from the orange tinged blackness of reentry to calm blue skies and finally to the horrid howling of the Gray North's gales.
Speakers crackled, buzzing from the intense electrical interference in this region of Teszura. "Ten minutes until arrival," informed the shuttle's pilot.
"Very well. Have one of the acolytes retrieve me once we have landed," she answered in her soft, melodic voice.
"Of course, Mother."
Soon the endless gray gave way Teszura's artificial clear, blue skies; they were the meticulously regulated product of one of the planet's many atmospheric manipulators. The moment the turbulence was over, she knew it was time. Heavy rapping on the door to her private chambers only served to reinforce her conclusion.
"Enter, Acolyte."
With a weak hiss, the door's seal broke, allowing the stale air to circulate out. "Yes, Rever--"
The young acolyte, a boy no older than seventeen, froze, his body ramrod stiff. Before him stood his Lady, vulnerable, and in all of her natural glory. His eyes traveled along her bare skin, taking in every detail and committing it to memory. Crimson hair spilled freely down her back, creating a powerful contrast with her pale, ghost-like skin. There was neither knot nor tangle to be found amongst her locks; likewise, her skin bore nary a blemish across its entirety. Perfect curves met his eyes no matter where he looked; she was divine. At least, that what he'd have said if he'd let his ogling end there. He was, however, an acolyte under the Order of the Architect, a dying sect of the Orthodoxy of Steel Mournings; like his brothers and sisters, curiosity drove his eyes to look further.
The skin he earlier considered perfect, was marred in places. Her right arm, both legs, neck, cheeks, and left forearm all bore hexagonal patterning created by dimples of the skin and colored by what appeared to be emerald and gold circuitry. Her entire vertebral column sported sealed off insertion ports, trailing from the tip of her tailbone and eventually vanishing into her hair at the base of her skull. He'd never, in all of his life, seen anything like it. But he'd heard, oh had he heard of such things from the Orthodoxy.
Blasphemy! Echoed through the young man's head as he stared. Such integration of human flesh and machinery was an abomination to all of his sensibilities. This woman before him-- "Are you going to stare all day or would you mind aiding in my preparations? Either would be fine." He jumped at her voice, his cheeks reddening as he realized he'd not only been gawking, but likely had thoughts worthy of excommunication from his sect.
She hummed coyly as she ran her fingers through her hair. "You are afraid, confused... and aroused."
The acolyte gulped, having been read without even a moment of eye contact.
The woman chuckled. "Come. Do not fear me, child. Open that chest to my right," she requested, pointing directly at the ornate container.
The acolyte nodded, and hesitantly made his way over. Kneeling down, he fought back against his shivering hands as he unlatched the container, the device seemingly opening and deactivating its various security functions more at the woman's command than any action he'd taken. Forbidden technology was already being displayed without a care in the world, so what could his Lady have that needed to be protected so heavily?
Suddenly, as if answering the boy's question, the lid flung itself open. Metal clanged harshly as a centipede-like machine leapt out of the chest and onto the ground. The curious mechanism quickly scuttled over to the women, clambering up her leg in a single, fluid motion. Making its way to her back, the mechanism lined itself up with the ports along her spine before inserting its "legs" into position, clicking to indicate each completed connection.
The woman sighed, her body relaxing and losing its prior tension. With the elegant machine situated on her back, she reached behind her, placing her circuitry covered hand over the device. Polymimetic alloy-- liquid metal-- oozed from several tiny pours on the machine, quickly traveling along the pattern of conduits across her body before fully coating each patterned area. A moment later, the strange metal shifted and tightened. The acolyte saw her eyes lose focus, if only for a moment, as the telescopic and focusing rings of her irises adjusted to unknown stimuli. Then, as quickly as it began, the fluid receded, leaving behind gold-plated carbon fiber-like cybernetic muscle weaves and an armored, orange vambrace on her left forearm.
"Mmmm... much better. Now, I believe a presentable ensemble is in order."
Awaiting their landing was an escort of the Orthodoxy's Steel Knights. Specifically, the Death Toller's Legion. White cloaks hemmed in gold covered their red ochre exosuits and each was armed with a plasma spear. They stood stoically, fabric bellowing softly in the wind. Twelve sets of unfeeling yellow eyes tracked her shuttle's descent. The armored escort parted, revealing a glowing pathway, as the shuttle alighted on a reserved landing pad like a giant, gleaming bird of white metal.
The women scoffed at their presence from her seat. Kemselpth always found amusement in how his name and domain had become associated with assassins and other death-dealers, but she could feel only disgust as she eyed the lithe, scout classed power armor. She did not condone the rigid silencing of ideas and technology. Still, she was impressed by their ability to maintain a facility far outside of Teszura's safe zone.
She was never one for lengthy processions or elaborate introductions and rituals, so when she exited her shuttle alone and unceremoniously, the following fanfare from the assembled soldiers was appropriately minimal.
Each soldier slammed their left fist to the breastplate of their armor and thrust the shaft of their spears to the ground. Their respect, false though it was, endeared the women and reminded her of the old days. For a moment, she remembered lines of robed zealots, each silently designing and inventing in her and her kin's name. That time was when she wanted to be, but no amount of change would bring back the world of old. But that's why I'm here, is it not? I've lost a war; I've been stripped of sword and shield and bow. A warrior cannot fight without her arms, but in a war of culture, your weapons are virtues and followers. She thought, as she stepped out from the confines of her shuttle and onto the blue, glowing tread-panels. Once both feet were firmly planted, the panels pulsed weakly, informing any standing on them to prepare themselves.
Energy flooded the air around Mother, causing goosebumps to form across her skin and lifting the woman up a few inches. She let herself fall into a sitting position mid-air and reclined lazily as if resting on the most comfortable seat imaginable. Chin-in-hand, she flashed her present company a casual smile. "Shall we?"
"Truly, you honor Patron Kemselpth," The Revered Mother complimented, her voice brimming with pride. Though they were misguided, their loyalty and dedication were genuine.
Her escort bowed deeply, the whirring of machinery within his armor filling the brief moment of silence. "Thank you, Mother. Your words are a blessing to all who hear them."
"May the Bell toll for you." And with that she bid the her armored escort farewell.
Turning her attention back towards her destination, she was met with the familiar massive wooden double doors of the warden's office. Each door was easily over seven feet tall. Both sides were inlaid with golden filigree designed to imitate a pair of sword- wielding knights defensively crossing their weaponry over the entrance. It was certainly an opulent display; wood on Teszura demanded a higher price than any gem or metal back on Earth ever did. Such showings, however, were to be expected. The higher up one was on Teszura the more grandiose and sumptuous one was expected to present themselves as.
She raised her hand to a holographic panel on the door. Wordlessly, it scanned her fingerprints with a beam of teal light before beeping affirmatively and going silent once more. Heavy hydraulics hissed as the doors were pried open.
Even with the extravagance of Teszuran culture in mind, the woman was still impressed by the number of medals and commendations decorating the walls of the warden’s room. War medals from The Great Sundering were proudly framed and displayed in elegant vacuum sealed metal cases on the right wall. A Medal of Honor from The Migrant War, the same one that always caught her eyes, hung from the wall above the warden's closed circuit holo viewers. More impressive than the elegant piece was the existence of a living veteran from that conflict.
"Come to visit the patients again?" Exalted Warden Darrelain swiveled to his desk, away from the monitoring station and leaving behind several high-definition holo displays, each switching between various scenes of patients going on with their daily affairs. His mahogany desk lit up, projecting a holographic keyboard above its wooden surface.
Darrelain was an oddity in this day and age; his dark brown skin and wide nose clearly marked his African old- earth heritage. After The Great Migration, humanity lost all geological borders and interracial relationships became much more common. Over the generations multiracial children bred and the bloodlines of humanity became muddied. The man's dark brown eyes peered back at her. His gaze told of ages of contentment and passion tempered by centuries of wisdom, discipline, and struggle. He had a charm about him that she could not deny, and his clean shaven head and grey streaked beard all added to his allure. An allure to which she had giving into on several occasions.
Placing her hands on her hips, she huffed playfully. "Indeed, Warden. The inhabitants seem to enjoy my company, it's almost as if they're starved of contact." The woman chuckled quietly, only continuing the conversation after the warden nervously joined in on her laughter. "We both know that is not the case, though. But yes, I am here for a visit, nothing more," she answered, exploring the room. Every so often she'd lift one of his trinkets, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Darrelain, without looking, reached down a pressed a button on his desk. All of the screens instantly switched to views of various, specific, individuals. "Should I round up the usuals? I hear that Magnus and Usagi are getting anxious as of late."
"Hmm..." The Revered Mother sauntered up to the warden's desk and gently ran a finger along its wooden surface. "Actually, no. I hear that you have a new patient committed to your facilities and I'd like to introduce myself." Her wandering stopped only once her finger landed on a deactivated datapad. The woman's eyes flashed yellow for a moment, before she turned her attention to the warden once more. "Alreona, correct?"
Warden Darrelain gritted his teeth, but still managed to force a smile. "Yes... but there is a, um, problem with that one," he explained. Darrelain entered another command on his desk's holokeyboard. The displays behind him all flickered, blinking out to static and fuzz before slowing returning to focus. One at a time, each screen cleared, filling in a tiny piece of a singular video feed. "Watch," Darrelain instructed.
On the video feed was a restrained woman with short pixie cut hair prostrating in a fairly bog-standard white padded room. Anything with sharp edges had been filed downed and covered in padding in order to keep the woman from hurting herself. There were a few amenities in view, but certain facilities were properly segmented off for privacy. A few personal effects lay strewn haphazardly across the unmade bed and a small shrine sat on an immaculate little footstool in the middle of the room. The only thing off about the entire scene was the lack of color in the feed.
The Revered Mother turned her attention away from the screen, a questioning look on her face. Her mouth opened, preparing to question what she was being shown before a loud crash drew her gaze back to the holograms.
On screen the scene had turned from one of pious serenity to unholy wrath. The woman had completely destroyed her shrine and somehow managed to upturn the bed. Still, she shrieked and thrashed about, eventually losing her balance and falling onto the floor. Squirming, she flailed her head and arched her back, the vest restraining her stretching as she tried in vain to escape.
"As you can see, she's more than a little troubled."
In the time it took for the warden to finish his comment, Alreona managed to get back to her feet. The women rushed the door of her enclosure and, at full speed, rammed the viewing pane with her head. "I've failed!" she shouted.
Again and again the woman slammed her forehead into glass. Even as her blood started to stain the viewing port and her face crimson, she continued. "I've failed! I've failed! I've failed! YOU CANNOT STOP PROGRESS!" Each declaration punctuated a strike against her containment.
It all seemed useless... until a crack formed on the glass.
"Well shit..." Darellain promptly cut the feed. His fingers deftly entered a command on his desk. He hummed for a moment and stroked his beard. "According to my files, she's a fanatic. Went mad and started conducting illegal experiments on kidnapped victims. The reports say that she tried merging flesh with metal. Brains laced with circuitry and biometallic muscle cultures were allegedly recovered from the lab she was apprehended in." He shivered. "Real sick, blasphemous things. Don't worry, though. The appropriate staff is enroute to pacify her."
The Revered Mother remained silent, contemplating. She remembered the shrine the Alreona had been bowing before; a perfect sphere grasped by a feminine hand. The woman was a devout follower of Mishrii, the Goddess of Refining and Perfection. That combined with what she'd seen and heard could prove promising. This was something that she could use.
Alreona was someone she could use.
A smile spread across her face. "Excellent. Now prepare a room, I'd like to speak with her about that outburst."
The room wasn't anything special. In all respects, it was a generic interrogation setup, albeit with padded floors and walls as precautions for the safety of the occupants. Alreona was already seated with her back to a large one-way window, her arms and legs bound to a simple white foam table in the center of the room. In front of the restrained woman sat several form covered cups, and soft-bodied, blunt writing utensils all arranged by color, size, and category. Cameras in both corners watched their every move. Compared to what had been seen of the woman prior, it was strange seeing her so still.
The Revered Mother paid little attention to the details of the room, but as she took her seat across from Alreona the powerful odor of various healing poultices and sedatives entered her nostrils. Such smells would normally go unnoticed due to being outside of a human's range of smell. That explains her calmness; poor dear is in a drugged torpor. Gently, she reached across the table and took Alreona's chin in her hand, raising the woman's eyes up to meet her own.
There was fire in that gaze. She almost found herself flinching away from Alreona, rare was it that she'd find a human with such will and drive. "Your body has been poisoned into compliance, yet you've not given in to the hopelessness of your situation. You are completely at the Death Tollers' mercy here."
Alreona's lips trembled, finally parting to give her weak answer. "For... now... Mother."
A smile formed on the Revered Mother's lips as she stroked the woman's cheek with her thumb. Her irises pulsed yellow, glowing intensely despite the room's own lighting, and in an instant both security cameras sputtered and sparked before sagging, deactivated. Behind Alreona, the one-way glass changed in composition, becoming completely opaque from both sides. Finally, the restraints around her wrists and ankles crumbled into dust as if they were a million years old.
All the while, billions of tiny, molecule-sized machines passed on to Alreona and worked themselves into her body, each snatching up every trace of tranquilizers they could find and converting the chemicals into fuel for their continued existence. Several million travelled to her brain, lodging themselves between the firing neurons and intercepting signals before sending them on to their destination or integrating with the cells themselves then sending Mother telemetry.
Alreona blinked, dispelling the haze in her eyes. Her breathing quickened as she looked around frantically, taking everything that had just occurred. "How? The Legion disables anything capable of sending jamming or overload commands by flooding the air with noise, you shouldn't even be able to send an S.O.S. here, let alone issue complex commands remotely." Though cleared of drugs, she didn't move an inch.
"Talkative young one, aren't you?"
"I have always suspected that my research and beliefs would land me in Teszura's little vault of unwanted elements. I was prepared to come here, Mother."
The Revered Mother smirked. "You seem to be well aware of who I am, child. Mother is not a common title among the Prophets."
"Prophet of the Architect--"
"--Then I won't bore you will false introductions," she interrupted. "My real name has been lost to the ages, but you may know me as Yther, the Grand Designer. And I have a proposition for you."
"... BWAHAHAHAHA!" Alreona clutched her sides, nearly falling out of her seat as she laughed uproariously. "Do you take me for a fool? A mental dwarf, perhaps? No, Mother, I am neither. Whatever that old wolf Darellain and his pack of filthy mutts has promised you for trying to lull me is forfeit if it requires my cooperation. Even school children know that the Earth gods are a myth; they are simply pillars of thought personified and used as rallying points."
"I don't think that's what you truly believe, but if you want to play enjoy your stay in Darrellain's pen--" Yther gave the woman a flat look and snapped her fingers. The air behind her spark violently, the only warning given before reality burned away, leaving an oblong hole in existence bordered by angry, swirling orange embers. "-- stay here in stagnation. The infirm and vapid make good company, I hear. I can find another to answer my call." With that, she stood and stepped through the portal.
That's- That's a phase gate... THAT'S A FUCKING PERSONAL PHASE GATE! Such a thing should not be possible! The amount of energy required to generate such a phenomenon cannot be stored by an object compact enough to be concealed on one's person... unless she has access to old Earth artifacts. Alreona twitched in her seat.
Before her hovered the impossible. Around her stood the uneventful.
The choice to leap through the portal after Yther was not a difficult one.
Candy cane patterned lightning lashed at sky, forking up from the ground and towards the heavens like massive, angry trees. A resounding crack of thunder sent the sound of clown horns rippling across Equestria, signalling that the final battle between Chaos and Harmony had begun.
Luna and Celestia, acting rulers of the United Tribes, circled each other high in the air above their foe. Together, their combined spellweaving called out to the atmosphere, collecting the smaller cloud forms into a massive and dark, furious cumulonimbus.
"Now, sister! Let us end this! Take to the clouds and destroy the beast!" Luna shouted, her voice barely audible over rushing air and rattling battle armor.
Celestia nodded, breaking off from their formation. The mare climbed, pushing her body to it's limits as she pulled ambient mana from the skies in an impressive display of combat-casting. Just as her climb reached its apex and her mana pools were filled to the brim, she rolled, plummeting into the cumulonimbus like a brick.
Out from the bottom of the cloud, directly above Discord, exploded a funnel. An awesome display of nature's fury. Yet the Draconequus held firm against the gale. Seven-hundred mile per hour winds condensed into a swirling cone only as thick as a single alicorn crashed down on him.
"I'd always thought you were a bit of a blowhard Celestia, but this is a bit much!" A nonchalant backfist from his lion paw connected with the furious column of air, turning it into a mess of flying pudding. His eagle claws followed close behind, grabbing Celestia by the horn and halting her rotation.
"Joke... all you want, Discord, but you've lost," Celestia proclaimed smugly.
"Oh really? And just how do you figure that, young lady? Your big final attack, while tasty, ultimately was a bust. I have you, quite literally, by the horn, my dear. How have you won?"
"Easily." Celestia's form began to waver, her body becoming softer and puffier with each passing moment. "This was a distraction." Cloud Celestia was dissipating even before the words left her mouth.
"Wot?"
One of thousands of falling pudding globs sizzled away, revealing the two alicorns. The Elements of Harmony were primed and ready. "Now!"
A radiant rainbow glow washed over the sister's coats, bathing them in the purest manifestation of Harmony in existence. The power burned with an almost unbearable desire to be set free; with Discord in their sights, it had a target.
And then the world turned upside-down.
With a bone-rattling crunch, reality between the alicorns and Discord folded in on itself, shattering like a pane of cheap glass. The Elements of Harmony fired their prismatic payload, its course warped by the hole in space and the torrent of matter being expelled from it. A massive wave of energy pulsed out from the disturbance, ejecting the combatants miles away, but not before shattering the Elements and grinding their shards into dust.
Author's Note
Hope you enjoyed the prologue. Comments, criticisms, etc are welcome.
“So you chose to follow?”
“-- show reverence to Mishrii. Hopefully, this gift suits you.”
“I apologize, without being conscious--”
Gleaming like pools of stilled quicksilver, a dozen arms descended. Flesh parted and muscle was stretched taut as mechanical limb twisted it into ever denser forms.
“Do not forget your purpose.”
The young girl sat in place, motionless and unmoving as a furniture, on a ratty old rug. Pink eyes focused intently on the everything that no one else seemed to perceive or care about as a soft breeze push at her white, shoulder-length hair. With a faint whistle, rusted holes in the wall made themselves known to the girl; she spared them only a cursory glance with her eyes, but it was then she’d move in the last two hours.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the margin of error on our evaluations is less than point zero- zero- zero- zero- one percent.” The doctor explained. Though his body was wholly enshrouded in a hooded red-leather long coat and his face was obscured by artificial darkness, his body language told the tale. Luminescent orange shades peered over the women in front of him before quickly turning his attention to the woman’s husband.
“Is there any recourse?” Asked the man from his secluded corner. He had yet to change out of his brown, oil-stained coveralls. Metallic shavings and various fluids mixed in random splotches across his chest, denoting a long day’s work. Sweat and heat, the scent of a working man, wafted off his body as he gently stroked his chin hair. “Surely, an Alchemist of the Combine has some idea of how to fix my child.”
A single finger adjusted the Alchemist’s shades. “You are correct, Refiner Acolyte. Your daughter… is unique. The results of my test point to damage and deformation of Alreona’s anterior temporal lobe and minor damage to her central nervous system. It can be repaired. Completely.”
“But?”
“But with resources on Teszura as scarce as they are, such an intensive procedure is nigh impossible without a grand sum and many hours. Time is no issue, though, as I do not believe her condition will worsen.” He kneeled down and patted Alreona’s head, the girl jerking briefly at the sudden contact, before going still again.
“Surely there is some way to bypass this cost, some way to help my daughter,” the father begged.
A blacksmith’s hammer rang out as it shaped orange-hot steel.
It was unwanted noise, drowning out Alreona’s consciousness with extraneous information. One moment the craftsman sounded as if he were within arms reach, yet within the same breath could be heard from far off in the distance.
It’s happening again, just like when I was a child. A stroke to the left, a stroke to the right, hissing water, nine-hundred and eighty-two degrees Celsius, steel, coal… It’s too much...
No. Alreona let her mind drift back to her time in the Combine and what they taught her. I did not allow my curse to define me then; I will not allow it to now.
Her first lesson cut through the haze in her mind like an obsidian blade.
Clear your mind; focus on the immediate, she remembered. In her minds-eye, she could see everything going on in her head. Each and every thought and calculation, every stimuli, and every response was laid bare before her introspection. Web-like in its weave, her mind blazed with over-activity. It was utter chaos but her path was clear now; she could fix this. The first step was compartmentalizing the information flooding her into logical categories. A place for everything and everything in its place, as the old saying goes.
Pestle ground against mortar, crushing various hard-shelled materials.
Strengthen the bonds; embrace the possibilities. Alreona’s thoughts more akin to a sloppily organized portfolio at this point. Thoughts, emotions, and sensory information were all with like data, however, there was no internal order to the groups and they lacked the complex relations, connections, and references that facilitated coherent thought. Her magic coalesced over the haze of her mindscape, picking at each thread of thought and rebuilding the pathways she’d formed over years of study and training.
Unoiled wheels squealed in protest as they clacked over cracks and spaces on a stone floor; A nervous “Will you marry me?” followed by an ecstatically yelled “Yes!” was the first of the voices she noted, but countless others made themselves known; Rhythmic pulses numbering in the hundreds, some far, some near; some strong, some fading, sent Alreona’s mind reeling; “It hurts!” Wailed a man, his voice cracking mid-way through his agonized cries.
Shut out the inconsequential; enforce clarity. Sounds of the world bombarded her, stealing her concentration and adding useless junk to the processes of her mind. Like a rock through a busy spider’s web, every noise destroyed whatever progress she made. Alreona was not going to allow this, she would not lose to her own weakness after having come so far. Her magic was a scalpel sharpened and honed to slice away imperfections, and with it, she sliced at her perception. Everything too far, too loud, or too numerous was cut away and analyzed before being reconstructed into useful information.
All is consolidated into one single master equation. That is what the Combine had taught her. That in the end, a single truth connected all existence. Everything could be simplified to one. At this moment her one was the single loose mental thread hanging from her mind. Her thoughts were like a loose ball of yarn. All she had to do was pull...
Alreona’s mind, once alight from overstimulation and unordered junk information quickly settled. The final vestiges of an echo quickly faded away as similar sounds, albeit much quieter, clawed their way out of her throat. It was a terrible sound: monstrous, disconcerting, inhuman. But she knew it was her voice.
Alreona’s world snapped into focus. Far-off noises, rapid-firing nerves, and overbearing scents ebbed away until nothing but her immediate surroundings remained.
Her body fell slack, catching itself on something-- chains if the rattling was any indication-- before hitting the ground. Everything felt so right, yet so wrong. The information was coming in faster and in larger quantities than ever before but she could process it.
A single drop of water struck a puddle, sending ripples across its shallow surface; the only movement in the cell whatsoever. No light penetrated the room and only weak echoing splashes accompanied by hitched breaths betrayed anything more about the space.
“Hold!” a woman forcefully decreed.
Alreona’s vision returned, quickly settling on the pair of light magenta eyes directly before her. What is this? She grunted, trying to lean away from her offensively close company. As she pulled back, the scene set itself before her.
Crude spears of wood and iron targeted her while their wielders steadied their defensive stances. Curious beings closely resembling Earth equines clad in gold painted armor dexterously followed her body’s every twitch. Surprisingly human frowns and furrowed brows mixed with various forms of animalistic body language relayed their grim determination to protect and serve. A few of the armored creatures shivered weakly or held awkwardly stiff postures, their bravados wavering slightly under the stoic gaze of the unknown creature.
They were, however, ultimately not what Alreona sought. Her roving gaze quickly locked onto the being she’d been face-to-face with a moment ago.
The eyes she’d been staring into belonged to small, lithe equine sporting an off-white coat and pink mane. Whatever the being actually was its curvaceous form, soft features, feminine tone suggested she was female in sex; at least if human norms were applicable to her species. More striking than her strange proportions and clear sexual dimorphism displayed between the males and females of their species were the horn and pair of wings.
“So I see that you have finally come to your senses,” the mare huffed, addressing Alreona. She slowly lowered a wing, placating the guards. “My guards were prepared to cut you down, despite your restraints. But I knew, though your eyes were frenzied and your claws were at my throat, that there was intelligence behind your gaze.”
The alien appendages near the mare’s throat twitched. My body is drastically different than I recall, however, I am unsure of exactly what occurred after following Yther. Alreona thought, her body sending millions of signals confirming the extent of the changes. “Your species is unfamiliar to me. What are you?” Her voice was hoarse and beastial, rumbling with new, powerful bass. Gone were her previous gentle, dulcet tones. While curious about her body, more exploration would have to wait.
A spear thrust towards her face was the immediate answer she received. “Silence, beast! You are in no position question our Lady!” one of the guards shouted.
For a brief moment, the idea to test the give on her restraints in an attempt to headbutt the offending guard overcame Alreona.
“Excuse him, he does not know his place and presumes and speak for me.” The mare turned to her guards and pointed to the door with a wing. “Leave us.” Celestia’s guards gave her a quick, respectful bow before backing out of the cell.
“Had it not been for Starswirl and the castle magi, I would have had you destroyed were you were found,” Celestia ranted, circling her prisoner. “The castle doesn’t have the resources and the military cannot spare the soldiers needed to guard and feed you. No one would have questioned the execution of a monster.”
“Is your plan still to terminate me?”
“No. No that I have seen for myself that you are just as intelligent as my ponies, I cannot simply murder you in cold-blood.”
She is emotional. Her judgment will be compromised. Within the heart of her frustration may be an avenue leading to my release. “Then perhaps you can tell me why are your people in such dire straits?”
“Simple. War,” Celestia answered, deadpan. “As you have no doubt noticed, my people-- ponies-- come in seven subspecies. The specifics of the species are not important at this moment, just know that the kingdom my sister and I rule over is a haven where all tribes of pony are welcome; not everypony appreciates that. And so we fight. We fight and we die. No matter if we win or lose, advance or retreat, the injured die of infection or cannot survive their wounds.”
She hummed in response. “Interracial tensions were once similar between my people. However, that does not explain the state of your fighting force. Why will so many succumb to infection and injury despite a successful retreat?”
“Everypony is doing their utmost, there simply are not enough healers to save them all. Those who will not make it through the night are comforted as best as possible and allowed to pass. ”
Alreona took a deep breath. “Release me.”
“I assumed you were intelligent. Clearly, I was mistaken.” Celestia gave her a flat look, clearly unamused.
“Regardless of the being you perceive before you, I am a medical expert and researcher of life; I can double, perhaps triple the survival rate of your ponies if allowed to.”
Celestia turned away. Alreona, though, could see the muscles strain as the mare clenched her jaw and ground her teeth. “Can you really? Save them, I mean.”
“I would not make such a seemingly outlandish claim if it were not possible. I am as certain of my skills, Celestia, as I am of your people’s resolve.”
Celestia sighed, her horn lighting up. “I’m giving you this one chance.”
The binding golden chains fell away, fading in a shower of golden energy as they unclasped from Alreona’s body. Finally unbound, she could get a better gauge of her strange new body.
Alreona lifted her hands (now claws) to her face. She’d seen the natural, beige armored appendages earlier, but it hadn’t seemed real then, despite the massive feedback she’d been receiving from her body. Now, touching her claws to her chest and hearing the clack of whatever bone-like material covered her body, she could no longer ignore the sensations coursing through her.
What has Yther done to me? Whatever she has forged me into, it is no longer even close to human. Though she knew this was not entirely true; it was more about genetics than any physical modifications present.
Now that she was free to rise to her full height, she towered over Celestia by nearly a foot. While still vaguely humanoid and feminine in figure, every inch of her body that didn’t need to bend was protected by the same porcelain shell, segmented at the joints like some sort of modern art rendition of an insect. Her upper torso was like a lithe suit of natural, form-fitting armor. Orange material, almost like that of gossamer, draped down from her collarbone and shoulder, creating a natural mantle. From her armored waist, the same material sprouted in a form mimicking a waist cloak. Twitching madly behind her, an armored tail, easily as long as she was tall, extended out from where her tailbone should have ended. She couldn’t see her face, but it still felt human, for the most part.
However, with all of the changes to her body, the most jarring was that she was now digitigrade. The more she focused on that fact, the more unbalanced she felt, leaving her no choice but to let it go for now.
“If you are satisfied with your condition, come. We have little time.”
