With Wings and Cloven Hooves

by Syroc

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Celestia, Main 6, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Sad, Princess Luna, Original Character
Length: 8645

Art Axis is a devil in Equestria that tries to be good. He doesn't always manage it.

A thousand years ago, Princess Luna became Nightmare Moon and was banished to the moon.

A thousand years ago, Princess Celestia began her reign as the sole ruler of Equestria and ushered in a golden age of peace and prosperity.

A thousand years ago, Art Axis made deals that damned them both, and has been waiting ever since for them to realize it.

Published 2017-10-23 03:00:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-10-27 11:52:08 UTC

An Introduction and a Millenial Prologue

Consider, for a moment, the classic Devil's Deal. It is a curious thing, with some very interesting logical consequences.

An agreement between a mortal - whether they are of upstanding morality or oblivious to the benefits of benevolence being immaterial - and a creature of such diabolical nature that they can only be described as a harbinger of purest evil, wherein the mortal pledges their immortal soul in exchange for a service of some kind. Such services may be to grant otherworldly power, unnatural skill or luck, the love of someone or other, or insight that is beyond their mortal minds. Or perhaps even all of the above, if they play their hand well. All that, for a single soul.

Clearly, the soul is either vastly more important than such a tiny word would imply, or devils are some of the worst negotiators in existence.

Common sense would have one believe the former, but a cynical mind would likely suspect the latter.

And such a mind would be right. Souls are intrinsically worthless. A simple study of its properties and a basic course in economics would inform you of such, as it is the one currency that both self-propagates and is all but impossible to completely destroy. The market for souls is where all sense of value goes to die.

And yet, the legend of the Devil's Deal endures. How can such a thing be?

Because that is the essence of evil. Evil, for evil’s sake.

Any reasonable person, when in the position of a devil, would likely settle for possessing just a few souls. Enough to suit their purpose, whatever that may be. But not a devil. Devils do not reflect on their actions, they do not innovate, they do not care about results. They take souls because they want them, and they want souls because they can be tormented for all time.

And they want as many as they can get because more is better. They would blindly steal the souls of all living creatures simply to acquire more, heedless to the fact that it would mean that there would be no more.

That is the true face of evil. At its best, evil serves itself first and foremost.

At its worst it serves nothing.

To accept evil, to willingly commit oneself to its sinister enterprise, is to forfeit sense and reason.

It is why I try not to be that way. Or rather, I try to be less so.

My name Abraxas, and I am a prince of Hell. These days I go by the name Art Axis, and I run the apothecary just down the street. Don’t trouble yourself with the details of which street.

It’s a much more fulfilling use of my talents than you might suspect.

“Abyssal sea salts, you say?” I repeated thoughtfully, giving my chin a gentle stroke. “That’s not exactly something most apothecary’s have, Mr. Dealer. It’s very difficult to procure, and even more difficult to store.”

The pony’s expression fell as I informed him of this. His shoulders sagged, his ears drooped and his smile withered away. It was for moments like these that I lived for: where one’s hopes were dashed…

“So it really is impossible,” he said glumly, the defeat in his voice sweet as honey to my ears.

… only to see that hope reignited a moment later.

I shot him a sly - nay, a devilish grin.

“Well, I never said that. I just said it wasn’t something most apothecary’s had. Please, if you would simply wait a moment I shall be with you again shortly.”

I do so love playing with mortal emotions. They are so very volatile.

Mr. Double Dealer’s face lit up like a winter bonfire, true happiness in full bloom. It was delightful to see.

I made a show of searching through my admittedly labyrinthine inventory of stock, before at crying out in faux-victory and drawing out a heavy case from a padlocked cupboard. I dragged it back to my shop's reception counter and hefted it up.

Mr. Double Dealer was practically prancing in place as I carefully unlocked and opened the case and extracted a smallish glass phial filled with small, greenish crystals along with a small scale that I used for these exact circumstances. I spoke as I set about the task of measuring out the appropriate amount.

“Now, the important thing to bear in mind when deal with abyssal sea salts is that they cannot be exposed to daylight for very long,” I informed him casually. “The essence of the abyss is extremely reactive to natural light, and can dissipate in as little as fifteen seconds if precautions are not taken to retain their potency. The process can be slowed by diluting the salts in a liquid, but I caution you that imbibing the liquid essence of the Abyss can induce drowsiness, slurred speech, lack of coordination-”

“I know it will get a pony drunk, Art,” Mr. Double Dealer snickered.

I frowned at the interruption, and decided to skip right to the important parts.

“... it can also cause visual and auditory hallucinations, extreme fatigue lasting three to four days, premature greying of the mane, bleeding from the eyes, chronic headaches and-” I paused as I finished measuring out the salt, poured it into a sachet and then continued. “And it will also get you drunk, when imbibed in excess. Although I caution you, if you intend to use it for that purpose, bear in mind that less is more.”

A tense silence ensued my dire warning, a silence in which I could almost hear Double Dealer’s eyes widening and his rear quarters clench.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked as if he feared the answer.

I flashed a smile that was both friendly and full of teeth.

“Take care when you drink the waters of the Abyss, Double Dealer, lest you find you’ve let in more than you expected,” I proffered the sachet. “That'll be twenty bits.”

Double Dealer stared at the small packet as if he expected it to take fire.

“Is it any safer when it’s not in water?” he asked cautiously, suddenly a great deal less enthusiastic about his purchase.

“Almost completely safe, actually,” I said with a sage nod. “It's been known to cause ponies to burp fire, though I've never personally observed the phenomenon.”

“Bwuh?” Double Dealer’s eyes boggled. “But-! How?! Why?!”

“Such are the mysteries of alchemy, sir,” I informed him with a grin. “If everypony could do it, I'd be out of a job.”

Double Dealer stared hard at me for a long time, his eyes belying the disbelief at what he was hearing. Then his gaze drifted down to the sachet I was offering. Eventually he seemed to come to a decision.

“Twenty bits, right?”

My smile widened.

“Indeed, sir.”

Double Dealer retrieved a small purse from his saddlebags and counted out the appropriate amount. His horn lit up as he levitated it over to me, and then grinned.

“Y’know, you're alright for such a weird-looking stallion, Art Axis. Your shop really is the best in the city.”

I raised an eyebrow and frowned at him. I was not offended, as he had spoken neither insult nor untruth, but he was one of the few ponies who spoke the truth in such a naked manner. Because my shop was indeed the best in the city, and I was also a weird-looking stallion by most standards. There is only so much I can do to hide my true nature, and attempting to exceed those boundaries rarely ended well for anyone involved. My plain, russet-brown coat and black mane served as drab counterpoints to my unusual aspects: membranous wings, a goat’s eyes, sharp teeth, forked tongue and cloven hooves at my hind legs.

I was very happy with my guise. While obviously inequine, I was not so strange that I could not pass as a mere freak of nature, or a terribly warning against the reckless use of magic rather than what I truly was. A wonderful mix of infamy and obscurity.

Mr. Dealer seemed realize what he’d just said and, with a stammered apology and another raised eyebrow from me, he rushed out of my shop and slammed the door behind him

And then I was the only person in my shop.

Such is the nature of most my relationships with ponykind. Not much different from that which I shared with others as a proper devil, but a great deal more amicable. And, of course, a great deal less labour intensive on my end. A bit of abyssal sea salt? Foal’s play. Nether shrooms? I could have them shipped out within a day. Powdered fire ruby? I only needed some time to find my mortar and pestle. The logistics of mercantile enterprise came easily to me, and the sedate, methodical search for knowledge as an alchemist greatly appealed to me.

I prided myself that Art Axis Alchemicals had everything a pony could ask for, and I drew great satisfaction in justifying that pride. The money that came with it was just a way of keeping score.

Speaking of which…

I kicked at the metal wheel of my safe, the practiced motion and just a little bit of a devil’s own luck unlocking the mechanism where a score of locksmiths had thrown up their hooves in defeat. With the safe now unlocked I bent down to deliver Mr. Double Dealer’s contribution to my already generous supply of mortal monetary means. I didn’t need the money, but it was a way of keeping score with my mortal competitors.

The bell of my shop’s front door rang out, signalling that I had a customer. I poked my head above the front desk to see if it was one of my regular customers.

I was somewhat disconcerted to see that it was a lunar guard. Who was holding the door open. For Princess Luna.

Nothing good could come of this.

I smiled brightly all the same, because it was always best to meet adversity with a smile.

“Princess Luna!” I greeted warmly as I brought myself back to my hooves. “What an unexpected surprise!”

I kicked my safe closed once more, savouring the dull ka-chunk and rapid clicking sounds of the lock’s mechanisms sliding into place. While I doubted the princess was motivated by something as crass as greed, I preferred to remove temptation from all equations.

“What can I do for you this evening?”

The princess of the night was not impressed by my attempt at good humour, and wasted no time in returning the sentiment.

“Close the door and await Our return. Bar all entry until our conversation is done,” she ordered with all the imperious command that a princess could bring to bear.

The guard grunted affirmation and did as they were bade.

Luna turned to me and glowered.

“Abraxas,” she said with all the warmth of a glacier. Fire surged up and down my spine at the sound of my name, both figuratively and literally. My mane had a bad habit of exploding into noxious green flames when I was sufficiently angry. “I have come to bargain with you.”

I stared at her, in both fury and incredulity. Nevertheless, I gave her the opportunity to redeem herself. I am a firm believer in second chances, after all.

“Well,” I said mildly with a thin smile. “I have a fresh batch of liquid starshine, I only brewed it last night. It creates the most wonderful glow-”

“We did not come to barter for trinkets, demon. We require power, the likes of which only you can provide.”

I snarled at her, and smashed a hoof against the countertop. Flames erupted from where I struck.

“We had a bargain, Princess! I am forbidden from dealing in such matters!”

Luna smirked smugly at me, and drew closer.

“We release you for your pledge, devil,” she said reassuringly. Confidently. Knowingly.

I hated everything about her in that moment, and it was all I could to restrain myself from leaping across the shop and tearing her throat out with my teeth.

Instead, I closed my eyes. I breathed in deeply through my nose and counted to ten. I exhaled slowly through my mouth. Then I opened my eyes, and knew without a doubt that I would damn her for her trespass.

The princess reeked of pride and envy, that most potent and dangerous of cocktails. Creatures under its influence hardly need any help in destroying their own lives, but to my secret shame I felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of adding my own infernal touch to her torment. And what’s more, I couldn’t find it in myself to resist this temptation.

Because in her I saw something entirely too familiar. It was like looking into a fun-house mirror, both similar and completely different. And what do we hate more in others than what we see in ourselves?

A plan formed in my thoughts, intricate and terrible. From her seed of envy I would reap the suffering of thousands.

I smiled at her in the same way that sharks do: with sharp teeth and hunger.

“Power, hmm?” I oozed smugness at her. I leaned over the counter of my shop, and leered at her. “And why would a princess come to me for power? You know the price my kind typically demands. Are you so desperate?”

Princess Luna scoffs, and smiled slyly.

“We know you, devil,” she said haughtily. “You have served our ponies well, containing many evils within your kingdom. Even now, you help and heal those of our subjects that dare to trust you,” her smile turned smug. “You would not take my soul even were I to offer it to you. You are a good pony, Abraxas.”

I stared at her for a long moment, and if I had felt an ounce of doubt in my plan it vanished then. I was determined to make her torment the stuff of legends.

I allowed myself a brief chortle at the thought.

“You’re right, of course,” I assured her. “But all the same, the power I can offer you has a price. And it is steep, princess. Too steep, perhaps.”

“Name it,” there was no hesitation, only fierce and unrelenting determination.

“Tell me of what you wish to accomplish, first,” I asked. “I can be of much more use to you if know how to help you.”

I didn’t really need her to tell me anything. I knew exactly what she wanted. I just wanted her to speak it aloud, to give a name to that which she hoped to overcome. I wanted her thoughts firmly on her goal, not on the means I would provide.

“My subjects love me not,” Luna admitted plaintively. “They are blind to the wonders of my night, they do not beseech me for my boons, and my sister- it matters not. I require power that I may show that my night is equal to the day.”

Outwardly, I winced in sympathy. But within the privacy of my own thoughts I was laughing. It's a tale as old as time: one sibling covers what the other has. And so the blood flows.

“Yes, I can see why you would want my help,” I said gravely. I frowned impeccably at her, merely for the theatrics. “However, now that I know what you desire I believe I see a solution, one that will pay for itself. The price will still be great, mind you, but it is one that I believe you should have little difficulty in bearing.”

Luna narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but drew closer to me. We were nearly face to face now.

“What do you have in mind?”

“As I see it, you do not require power. Not power such as I can grant, at least. The crux of the issue lies within you.”

“Speak plainly, devil,” Luna demanded, though more in eagerness than any real wrath. “If I had the means to gain the love of my subjects then why I need your help?”

I had her by the curiosity, now. I was leaning hard on both her pride and envy, and she was letting me. She wanted to believe that nothing was wrong with her - and she would be right, if only she weren't trying to strike a bargain with me. I would use those to ensnare her fully, but curiosity was always the first step.

I smiled winningly at her.

“You must forgive me for my impertinence when I say this, princess, but while you do not for means I do believe you lack the will. Or perhaps the vision. I can remedy this, and it would not cost you anything beyond what you are already giving up.”

“And what is that?”

“Your dreams,” I smiled as her eyes widened with surprise, and pressed on while she was still confused. “I realize it is a bitter pill to swallow, Princess, but I assure you that the easiest path for you to gain the love of your subjects is to give up your dreams. Not your hopes or aspirations, mind you, but your actual dreams.”

Luna didn't speak for a moment, still processing what I had told her. The moment did not last, and she shook her head powerfully when it ended.

“What you ask is too great, demon.”

And now I exuded an air of pity at her.

“Yes, I understand that mortals often attribute great value to dreams. It is not easy for your kind to give up such things.”

Condescension is such a useful tool. With a twist of words it can inspire pride, wrath or spite. In Luna, I could see all three mix into a terrible and potent brew. Her pride refused to let her be “just another mortal”. Her wrath at the perceived insult refused to let her accept the situation. And her spite drove her to prove me wrong.

“Explain how my dreams are holding me back, demon.”

I smiled at her, full of teeth.

There was no saving her now. I was only an explanation away, and I was good at explaining things to mortals in such a way that they never saw the damnation right in front of them. Luna would be no different. My hooks were deep inside her, and she was drawing herself in without a care for what I would do with her trust.

After all, she was asking about her dreams.

She'd said nothing about her nightmares.

It was almost a year before the second part of my vengeance against Luna fell into place.

Much as her sister had, Princess Celestia came calling with guards in tow. Unlike her sister, Celestia carried an unspeakable sorrow in her bearing. That her subjects were blind to her distress only worsened it.

"Thank you for escorting me here, my little ponies," she said to her guards warmly. "But the words I must share with this pony must be had in private."

Her guards gave me an uncertain, calculating glance. I grinned back at them, making sure to let them see my fangs. Predictably, this did not reassure them.

"Are you certain about this, your highness?" the one in charge asked, not taking his eyes off of me. "He seems an unsavoury sort."

"Art Axis and I are old acquaintances, my little pony," she reassured him. "I will be perfectly safe with him."

"Very well," the reluctance in the guard's voice was plain for all to hear, but nobody of import cared. "Then we shall await your return outside."

"Thank you, my little ponies," Celestia said, her voice kind, warm and a complete fabrication.

The instant her guards left my shop her composure slipped. Gone was the proud new monarch, and there was the mourning sister.

“Art Axis,” she said quietly, her voice faltering. “I need your help.”

I acted surprised to see her sudden change in demeanouf, even as I felt a savage glee at what I had done. Both to her, and her sister. It would take hundreds of years for my revenge to come full circle, but time means nothing to me. I could wait for the moment they both realized what I had done. I could wait for the sorrow and pain to kill them both slowly, like poison.

I could wait for them both to come before me and beg for forgiveness.

But I wouldn't let it be said that I didn't give Celestia a chance to save herself that pain. I was trying to be better than my kin, after all.

“I’m afraid can't help you, princess,” I told her gently. “We have a bargain, if you would recall. I pledged that so long as I resided in your lands I would not deal in such matters. You and your sister were very firm on that, if you recall.”

I made it easy for her. I reminded her of our compact, I reminded her of what I was. I told her of an easy way to circumvent my pledge while still keeping it in place.

It should have been easy to resist temptation.

“We can talk, though,” I offered. “I will always make time for you, whether you want tea or someone to talk to. It may not seem like much, your highness, but I find mortals can draw much strength from such gestures.”

Celestia seemed only to collapse of further at my words.

“I want my sister back,” she said in a tiny voice. She let out a shuddering breath, and then summoned up a renewed strength and conviction. She straightened out, standing tall and resolute. “Prince Abraxas of Tartarus, I release you from your pledge to me. Please, help me save my sister.”

It's easy to resist temptation. You just have to want to.

I didn’t show any of the crushing, terrible disappointment I felt in her. The wan smile she saw was every ounce as sympathetic as she wanted it to be, but every bit as fictitious as the facade she presented to her subjects.

“I am honoured by the trust you've shown me, princess,” the lie slips as easily from my mouth as easily now as it ever would have when I sat upon my throne in Hell.

But if Celestia wanted me to act like a devil I would oblige her.

Making her suffer would be easy: Luna had already done all the hard work. All I had to do now was twist the knife.

“Tell me how you think I can help you."

Patience

Time has a funny way of shifting one's priorities.

A thousand years ago I had thought that today could not have come sooner. My plot was still in its infancy, and I had yearned for the day I could see it unfold in all its terrible majesty. The insults from Luna and my disappointment in Celestia had still been fresh.

But it had been a thousand years since I had spoken with either of them, and quite frankly I had better things to do than to imagine hypothetical satisfaction I might feel in a distant future. There wasn't anything too exciting, as the life of an alchemist - even a fiendish one - tends to long periods of boredom with the occasional burst of excitement when something new is discovered. And even among alchemists, many would consider my work to be particularly slow. (On the other hoof, my eyebrows had never once been burned off by a failed experiment.)

I like to think that I helped along the study of medicine in my own small ways, but I did not wish to draw too much attention to myself even to help my mortal neighbors. Instead, I spent centuries quietly in the background, peddling my wares and tinkering away for my own pleasure.

A thousand years can change one's priorities, and I have to admit that after so long without contact from either of them I quite frankly could not give a damn about the culmination of my millennial scheme. I had other things to think about.

Like stopping precocious young ponies from getting into my stock.

“Put that down this instant, young filly!” I snapped at the pony in question. The filly - Bright Solution, the daughter of my bondspony Ebony Horse - froze in place at the sound of my voice. In her mouth she carried a key, one that I knew would unlock my vault and grant her access to some of my more volatile wares.

Solution let the key drop from her mouth and pouted pathetically at me.

“You promised that you would teach me how to bottle rainbows,” she said with a note of accusation.

Bright Solution was a pegasus like her father, but where he was dark brown in both coat and mane she had a vibrant gold coat and a white mane. She was a skinny thing, long of leg with narrow wings, and bright red eyes that almost seemed to glow when she was excited. Which was nearly always. Her cutie mark, an alembic containing a bubbling liquid, had been a factor in retaining her father’s loyalty. There were few alchemists in the city that could compare to my skill, and none of them were willing to take on an apprentice from some no-name pegasus without a bit to his name.

Naturally, I was teaching her far more than just a trade.

“Yes, I did,” I agreed, grinning at the way hope blossomed up inside her. I waited half a moment before crushing it. “However, I recall that you promised to eat all of your spinach in return.”

Bright Solution blanched at the reminder of the terms of our deal.

“B, but I did!” she protested half-heartedly. “There wasn't any left on my plate!”

I smirked knowingly at her.

“That's because you hid it in your napkin,” Solution gasped in alarm at having been caught out. “You didn't really think you could trick me, did you?”

“... yeah, I did,” she admitted, her face the very picture of remorse. “‘m sorry.”

The lie slips out of her mouth as easily as it would a devil upon her throne. Unfortunately for her, a lie is only as convincing as the person speaking it. A chuckle bubbles up in my chest at her feeble effort.

I never tire of the audacity of children. It is a mystery to me why the kind of behaviour that would incite fury and rancor in me from an adult would instead be endearing from a child, but I refuse to think overly much about it. I was afraid that if I ever learned the reason the magic would be lost.

“Don't you try pulling that long face on me, little missy,” I warned her with warm severity. I bent down and ruffled her mane, instantly breaking her mask of repentance as she struggled against my token of affection. “We both know you're only sorry you got caught.”

“Stop it uncle Art!” she complained, straightening her. “I'll tell my dad on you!”

“Oh yes, that does sound like a good idea!” I lowered myself down to her level so I could look her in the eyes. “Let's go tell your father everything, shall we? About you breaking our deal? About trying to sneak into my vault? About lying to me? Or maybe…” my voice lowered ominously and I willed a little fire to appear from the corners of my eyes. Bright Solution squeaked in fear. “... maybe we should tell him about how ticklish you are!”

“What?” Bright Solution gawped in surprise, and in her moment of vulnerability I snapped my wings out and launched an assault on her sides with my wingtips. “No!”

As Bright Solution’s shrieks of laughter rang out through my shop I was wary still, watching for the little filly to betray her true colours. I almost didn’t spot it, the moment when her hoof snaked out in what might have been a thoughtless, flailing attempt to free herself. Her true intent was betrayed as the hoof moved in a grasping fashion around a specific area. The area where she had dropped my key.

I shudder to think of the lives this filly might have destroyed were she being raised in any household but mine. She had a devil’s knack for mischief.

Her laughter tapered off slowly as I relaxed my tickling and her own search proved fruitless. She did well in hiding her confusion and consternation, but I knew what to look for. A master of deception she was not.

“Looking for this?” I asked, and lifted my tail and the key I’d wrapped it around up for her to see.

“Uhm,” Bright Solution had the decency to look embarrassed. “No?”

“Hmm,” I grinned at her. “Let’s make another deal, shall we? I will pretend to believe you, I won’t tell your father about this little lapse in judgement and I’ll even teach you how to bottle rainbows…”

“Really?!” Solution was back on her hooves in a flash, eyes wide in wonder and eagerness.

“... if you eat all of your spinach for three days.”

The horrified expression was one of many that I would treasure for all time. She wailed at the unfairness of it all, at how mean I was being to her, at the vileness of spinach and how cruel it was to force a filly to eat it, and then she tried to snatch my key away when she thought I was sufficiently distracted by her tirade. When all that failed to sway me to the righteousness of her cause she collapsed into a limp pile on the ground, defeated.

I gently prodded her with a hoof.

“Do we have an agreement?”

Bright Solution lolled her head around to glower resentfully at me, and then her eyes narrowed. A grin appeared on her face as she tried a new tactic: haggling.

“Three days straight of spinach days of spinach is a bit much, isn’t it?” she said, fully determined to wheedle as much leeway into our agreement as possible. “Do you think we could space the three dinners out a bit?”

“Well, if you want me to put off the fulfillment of my end of our agreement until later then I see no reason not to oblige you,” I told her,

“So, would you agree with me if I said that the time at which I eat the spinach isn't as important as eating three dinner’s worth of spinach?”

I blinked in surprise at her assertion, as I had not thought she would try her hoof at outright sophistry. I was tempted to refute her argument out of hoof, but I knew where she was headed with her train of logic and I wanted to teach her a valuable lesson about the dangers of reinterpretation.

“I would tentatively agree, yes,” I said slowly, letting her think she had caught me in her web of logic.

Bright Solution cackled victoriously as she proffered a hoof for me to shake.

“Then I agree!” she shouted. “I want to eat three dinners of spinach right now!”

I felt a small flutter of pride at the filly’s antics, even as I chuckled at her mistake.

“Actually, if you would recall the deal I offered you, the word I used was ‘days’. Not dinners.”

Solution huffed and lowered her hoof.

“So? What’s the difference?”

“I don’t pretend to know how things work in the rest of Canterlot, young miss, but in this house we eat three meals a day,” I informed her with a grin. “And wouldn't you know it, I was planning on having spinach with breakfast, lunch and dinner. For three days.”

“What?!” the affronted gasp was quickly followed by a retching sound as Solution realized how she had trapped herself. “But that's not- why are you such a meanie, uncle Art?!”

“Why do you try to trick me?” I shot back at her, and ruffled her mane again. “Perhaps we should honor the spirit of our agreement rather than the letter, yes?”

“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.

“Three days of spinach, no more than usual, over the course of three days. That sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Bright Solution looked like she was about to agree, but quickly thought better of it. I had only mentioned her part of the deal, and as we both knew I had no compunctions against tricking a child.

“In return for teaching me how to bottle rainbows and not telling daddy about this, right?” she affirmed seriously.

“Not telling me what?”

We both turned to look to the pony who was intruded upon our negotiations.

Ebony Horse, my bondspony and Bright Solution’s father. Our bargain had been struck long ago, and in exchange for my protection and patronage he was my bonded pony. My slave, to use less kind words.

Our arrangement had changed over time as I came to trust him more fully, but neither of us was under any illusion as to where the two of us stood: Ebony Horse was mine until he and his daughter no longer required my services.

I liked to think I did well by him and his daughter, but I would suffer no misunderstanding between us on this issue.

I shared a conspiratorial wink with Bright Solution and rose to my hooves again.

“About how I won't be opening the shop today, and thus will not be requiring your services,” the way I spoke left little doubt that I was lying, but Ebony knew me well enough not to bother with the truth when I was like this. Even so, he did not let me have my deception without a token resistance.

“Sir, you always close the shop for the Summer Sun Celebration,” he pointed out, dry as a desert. “Everypony closes their shops for the Summer Sun Celebration.”

“Yes, but I'm also giving you the day off,” I elaborated.

“You always give me the day off-”

“That could always change,” I pointed out with a careless wave of a hoof. “Maybe I'll be the one to escort your lovely daughter to the festival, and you can be the one to stay behind to watch the shop.”

“Hah!” Ebony scoffed. “We both know she'd run circles around you, sir. You wouldn’t last an hour.”

“I know no such thing,” I said with a sniff. I turned to Solution and gave her my haughtiest airs. “You won't just be having fun today, little miss. I will expect a paper on the properties of sunlight from you by the end of the week,” I grinned at her knowingly. “You'll need it for the project we discussed earlier.”

Her face lit up like the sun as she caught on to my meaning, and a moment later she became flurry of action. The entire shop was filled with the sound of clattering hooves as she zipped away on her task.

I waited until she was out of earshot before I turned my full attention to Ebony, all levity gone from my demeanour.

“There is an observatory on the outskirts of Manehatten that will provide a good viewing point for the raising of the sun,” I told him brusquely. “The two of you will go there.”

Ebony blinked in surprise at my sudden change in disposition.

“Sir?” his confusion was plain to hear. “But the festival is going to be held in Ponyville this year. I already have the tickets for the tr-”

“I will reimburse you for your loss,” I cut him off, and with a flick of my tail I tossed the key to vault to him. “Take what you deem appropriate from my vaults. You will take my student to Manehatten, and you will remain there until she has considered the importance of the sunlight. Am I understood?”

“Y-yessir,” he said with a gulp. “The train ride will take some time, though. We likely have to take the night train back-”

“I have already made arrangements for the two of you to rest at the Empire Hotel. The two of you may remain in the city for however long you desire, but I would prefer if the two of you would stay until the end of the week,” I let my severe tone drop. “Enjoy yourselves while you're there, Ebony. I'll be fine without you.”

Ebony Horse was not a dull pony. More importantly, he was a good pony. He was smart enough to know something was odd about my sudden insistence and was kind enough to worry about me because of it.

“Is something wrong, sir?” he asked, concern dripping from the question. "This isn't like you."

I shook my head and laid a hoof on his shoulder.

“Nothing is wrong,” I assured him. “But I will be having guests over soon, and I'd rather not have the two of you underhoof while they're here,” I chuckled lightly. “I expect we might even get a bit rowdy, and I wouldn’t want your daughter to be exposed to that.”

Much has been said about the nature of lies, but the truth can be just as misleading. Moreso, even.

Ebony appeared uncertain about the whole situation, and I didn't blame him. In all his years of service, I'd never once entertained guests. I didn’t have friends in the city, I had no peers amongst my profession and as far as he knew I had no family.

If we had been friends, I might have felt bad about treating him like this.

But he wasn't a friend. He was a slave. My slave. And I would treat him exactly as I wanted to.

“Go help your daughter get ready,” I told him neutrally. “The two of you will need to leave soon if you wish to find a good place to watch the raising of the sun.”

Ebony sniffed sharply in annoyance.

“You could have told me about your plans yesterday,” he mumbled rebelliously, but wisely voiced no more dissent. “I’ll just get what I need from the vaults then, and go help Solution get ready.”

I waved him away, but thought better of it a moment later.

“Oh, and stay away from spinach while you’re there,” I advised him casually. “I hear that their local crop is garbage.”

Ebody Horse gave me a funny look over his shoulder, but nodded.

“Uh, I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” He waited for a moment, before he bobbed a short bow. “We’ll leave as soon as we’re ready.”

With the help of her father and the excited goading of his daughter the two easily managed to ready themselves for their trip within the hour.

Time has a funny way of shifting one's priorities.

As I watched the two of them leave from the entrance of shop, I wondered briefly how it would change those of the sisters. I hadn’t spoken with Celestia for a thousand years, and I could only guess at how Luna’s exile had affected her. It would have been the work of a moment to watch them for a hint at what I could expect, but I held back. The notion of watching it all unfold didn’t appeal to me, and I knew what the outcome would be in any case. Luna, in her madness, didn’t have the power to defeat my machinations. Celestia was too terrified of disrupting her precious prophecy to contemplate interfering. Worrying or wondering served no purpose.

A flash of light and a sudden burst of sound caught my attention. I craned my head around to look at what had caused the distraction, expecting to see just another unicorn playing with their magic.

What I saw instead was Celestia in her full regalia, regarding me with a serene smile as she approached from the street. Seeing her there, the only thing I could think for a long moment was that she was much taller than I remembered her being. Much, much taller. I wondered if she was taller than even I was in my natural form. It had been a long time since I’d last gone au naturel, so I couldn’t be sure.

It was only when she stood close enough to touch me that I marshaled my senses and decorum, her smile having taken on a distinctly amused quality.

“Your highness,” I greeted, and made a show of bowing low to her. Appearances had to be maintained, after all. “I wasn't expecting you. What brings you to my shop?”

The princess’ eyes twinkled merrily as she watched my display, and now I knew she was amused.

“I was hoping to speak with you before I left to raise the sun, actually,” she explained, “Perhaps we could speak inside, my little pony?”

I raised an eyebrow at her, thoroughly unimpressed at her presumption. I deigned not to comment on it, though, as I doubted anypony that might happen to be watching us would be pleased to see me dressing down their princess. One of us would have to show some restraint, and I suppose that as an elder of the two it fell to me.

I turned and entered my shop, leaving the door open for her follow.

“I’ll put on a pot of tea,” I told her over my shoulder. “Take a seat where you like, I'll be with you when it's ready.”

One of the perks of being an alchemist is that I have access to all manner of plants, flowers, herbs and spices. Theoretically it should have been very easy for me to experiment with different flavors and methods of brewing tea, but in practice things were very different. There was a reason why the notion of having a bondspony appealed to me, after all.

I could manage a pot of tea, but if Celestia wanted anything else she was out of luck.

I filled a kettle up with water and dumped what I guessed was an appropriate amount of mint leaves inside as well, then applied Hellfire directly to the kettle’s bottom until it whistled in protest. I had little desire to try my hoof at the more complex methods Ebony half-heartedly tried to teach me, and even if I did remember them I had no idea where he saw fit to hide things. If Celestia didn't like it then I had plenty of sugar close by for her to sweeten the brew.

I heard a quiet rush of air, and when I turned around I saw Celestia sitting on the floor at a smallish, circular table I'd never seen before.

“You don't have chairs for a pony of my stature,” she explained. “And your dinner table is too big for two ponies. I brought one down from the palace that was more suitable.”

I glowered at her for the impertinence, beginning to remember why I'd wanted to hurt her, but at the same time there was something about the way she was behaving that worried at me. Nothing nefarious, nor duplicitous, but her smile just a little too knowledgeable for comfort. It was unsettling.

I wondered for a moment if this was how ponies felt when I looked at them, and resolved to ask Ebony about it when he got back.

I put the kettle on the small table and left to gather some appropriate cups. As I rummaged through the cabinets a titter rang out.

“I'd never thought to see you in a domestic setting,” Celestia remarked in amusement. “It's surprising.”

“Even devils know how to make tea, Celestia,” I retorted shortly. Which, while technically true, was far from universally so. Only a select few cared enough about the habits of mortals to learn. “It shouldn't be that hard to believe.”

“I only meant to say that it’s unexpected, nothing else.”

I returned with a pair of cups balanced on a wing. Or rather, a modest-sized teacup and and a large mug. I proffered the larger mug to Celestia. If she was going to flaunt her size at me I wasn't going to pretend she was a genteel lady.

The legend on its side read “World's Best Dad”. Celestia took it, looking as if it was taking every scrap of her restraint to stop herself from asking the obvious question. I decided to take pity on her.

“It's not mine,” I stated. “But it's the biggest cup in the house.”

“You live with other ponies?” she sounded surprised at the revelation, and her face reflected it.

“Other ponies live with me, yes,” I waved a hoof dismissively. “It's nothing untoward. Just a servant and his daughter.”

“Ah, that would be the two ponies you saw off earlier, yes?” I nodded, and reached for the kettle. Celestia’s horn flashed, though, and the kettle and our cups rose into the air accompanied by the glow of her magic. “Please, allow me.”

It was the work of a moment for her to fill our cups with tea, though I was somewhat suspicious of the tiny smirk she wore as she returned my cup. Years of living with Solution had taught me to be wary of helpful ponies.

“... thank you,” I sipped at my tea, then winced at the bitter taste of a failed brew along with a disgusting aftertaste. I wasn’t entirely surprised I’d somehow managed to mess up mint tea, but a tiny bit disappointed. “Urgh.”

“Not what you were expecting, was it?” Celestia asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. There was a flash of magic, and a saucer of sugar appeared between us. “Would you like something to sweeten the taste?”

I blinked at her, looked down suspiciously at my tea, then sipped it again. It was only on my second tasting that I recognized the foul taste.

“This is hemlock,” I stated dry, affixing the princess with my driest, most unamused glare. “Did you seriously think a bit of poison was going to do anything to me, Celestia?”

Celestia laughed, and again I felt the subtle wrongness about her. But it was stronger now, almost a physical presence within her, burning brighter than all the flames in Hell. I felt the every hair on my body raise and a chill run up my spine.

“Oh, lighten up Abraxas,” she chided with a radiant smile. “What’s a little poison between friends?”

I blinked in surprise at the word she used, and was shocked to realize that I hadn’t felt her lie. I let my infernal magic surge through me as I searched her for any sign of duplicity.

I saw it then, in that her smile. The loneliness. The sorrow, the pain. It was all there, all the things I'd poisoned her to suffer, but it was buried beneath a layer of… something powerful. It didn’t entirely overwhelm my fiendish senses but it’s alien nature was enough to stop me from knowing her thoughts and inner workings.

Such power wasn’t anything I’d ever dealt with before, and a small part of me wanted to put as much distance between myself and Celestia as possible. Hell, it whispered seductively, was a preferable outcome to being caught up in that power. It took me a moment to recognize that part of me as fear. I’d lived so long amongst mortals that I’d forgotten what it felt like.

But through my terror I could see them, the frayed edges of my machinations upon her. All the little strands of my magic upon her, twisting the world in all the little ways that mortals called ‘coincidence’. Somehow she’d freed herself from my magic, and seen for herself-

She’d seen.

She knew.

“You know,” I blurted out, surprised despite myself. “You know that I tricked you. You know how I tricked you.”

“How could I could not?” Celestia asked wryly. “After all the friends I have lost, the students I’ve had to bury, did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

I was silent, watching her with narrowed eyes. Waiting. I needed to hear her say it. I wasn't about to admit to anything without being accused first. I was a firm believer that the benefits of confession and catharsis extended only to mortals.

The princess, seeing that I wasn't about to speak, set her mug down and leveled me a reproving look.

“You took my death.”

I looked down into my tea, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. There was something strangely liberating about my plan having gone awry. And Celestia either hadn't noticed my more overt manipulation or didn't care. I was fine with both of those possibilities.

“You wanted to see your sister again,” I reminded her. “So I made sure you would. No matter what.”

Celestia closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Neither of us spoke for what felt like a long time.

“I suppose I should count myself lucky that I've not had any terrible misfortunes,” she said wryly. “I can only imagine what Luna would think if she returned only to find me horribly maimed.”

“You could just thank me,” I told her bluntly. “Or did you think immortals just stopped aging all by themselves?”

Celestia regarded me with a… a look. I couldn’t recognize the expression, and the power she held was too strong for me to study it any detail other than purely superficial.

“You surprise me, Abraxas,” she said with an earnest, warm laugh. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

Gratitude. That’s what it was.

I didn’t respond. I had gone back to looking into my tea, uncertain how I should feel about being thanked for what I’d done. It was… unpleasant.

I’d expected resentment. Hatred. Anguish. Remorse. I could deal with those. They were easy to deal with: you laughed at the person feeling them. Or tried to console them, I suppose, but I’d been out of the business of damning people for centuries.

Gratitude was not something I was often confronted with. It was… an unpleasant experience.

I would have to wait to see how she would feel tomorrow. Luna, no doubt, would inform her of the role I had played in her fall to madness.

Strangely, that thought made me feel better.

“It’s too early to thank me, princess,” I chided her. “You haven’t seen your sister yet.”

We’d see just how thankful she was then.

If anything, Celestia’s smile turned more radiant.

“As you say, Abraxas,” she rose from to her hooves, and signalling the end of our conversation. “You may keep the table. We can use it again the next time we speak.”

She vanished in a flash of magic that I suspected was a bit brighter than it needed to be, because I was left clutching at my eyes at the blindness she’d inflicted on me

"Of course she couldn't have used the door," I complained to the empty room. I finished my cup of tea without thinking, scowled at the taste, and glowered at the kettle. "And what the hell am I supposed to do with a pot of hemlock tea?"

If this was the sort of thing I had to look forward to as her friend then I couldn’t wait to become her enemy. I already had one child in my life, after all.

Author's Note

Hey people, if you happen to know of a group this story might fit into, do tell me in the comments. (Or you could add it yourself. That would make me super happy.) I took a glance at the amount of groups, did some math and realized there was something like 12800 of them. I could try to pick my way through them all, or I could just hope that someone reading has stumbled across the appropriate group.