Youngblood

Chapter Two

The trot back to his own chambers gave him a great opportunity to quickly scan through the book; the anticipation almost driving him to the point of squealing. He even passed the captain of the guard, who gave him one of the most shocked expressions he had ever seen made. Despite this, and the odd glances from the existent literature enthusiasts of the castle, Youngblood managed to reach the goliath staircase leading up to the princess’ quarters without trouble. Having taken up residence himself, he was given a room near the two alicorn sisters in order to keep the royal ‘siblings’ together.

He was eternally grateful for this, but he could not help but not treat said sisters- as sisters. He found that they had naturally settled as best friends of sorts, but harbouring a deeper connection. This helped to overcome the problem with the life spans of alicorns being much greater compared to that of regular ponyfolk. It would make much more sense for the group to share a friendship rather than siblinghood; plus it could be explained much easier during formal introductions. Where the little brother became the big brother in a merely in a matter of years would present questions as to their parents fidelity, a friendship would be considered much more innocent to describe their relationships.

When he was accepted into the royal family, he had been little more than a foal and the sisters treated him so, much to his playful distaste. However, it was only now that the slowly aging alicorns had been caught up by their mortal brother.

The ascension of the stairs took little over a minute and a half; his legs would have strongly disagreed, however. The lobby-like landing between the sisters’ rooms shone brightly with the summer’s sun, beating gloriously through the windows from the right side, each beam illuminating part of the circular landing in wide, open streaks of yellow. The tiled floor of coal and pearl contrasted with the blue walls, the colour mimicking both the deep blue of midday and the cool sky of later hours.

He kept flicking through the pages as he finished the last few steps of the great ascension, his muzzle mere inches away from the yellowed pages of the book. His mind was entrenched within each paragraph, sampling and evaluating each letter of every word he read. So engrossed was he, that he failed to notice the galloping form of Princess Celestia careering down the hall; her multi-tone mane caught in the invisible, undetectable solar wind.

The clattering of her hooves reached his ears much too late as he was assaulted with a playful hug; the book becoming rather compressed between him and the giggling alicorn.

“What have you been up to this time? Have you not yet found anything else to do but cause trouble?” Her voice was full of glee as she hugged her only real friend.

Youngblood grimaced at the physical contact, though he caught on and eventually returned the affection. “I can’t help it, honestly there’s nothing else to do around here.”

Breaking the hug, Celestia looked down at the book, her eyes widening slightly. “Is that?” A curious hoof rose, aimed at the book now deposited on the floor having been knocked from Youngblood’s telekinesis by the sudden impact..

“Arcane Objects and Artefacts,” he recited, “yes, it is.”

She stared at him for a moment, brow slightly furrowed. “I am not going to ask!” She mocked him before leading the way into her sister’s room. Youngblood swiftly snatched up the book with his magic and cantered after the white alicorn; he could not keep down the smile forming on his face. Every day he reminded himself of the freedom he once had on the streets, but also he reminded himself of what he never had back then.

The two entered the nightly-themed room of Princess Luna, Celestia’s younger sister and visual opposite. The dark, flowing shapes painted upon the walls of the room emulated the image of its occupant. The Princess of the Night sat upon her bed, abacus in hoof. Her dark blue coat almost a perfect camouflage against her bedspread and her much less extravagant, but none the less elegant mane flowed from her head like a mythical river, glimmering in the starry presence of the night.

“Sister, he’s been at it again!” Celestia beamed.

The navy monarch merely regarded her extravagant sister’s jovial nature before placing her abacus down with a heavy sigh. Why do some ponies ever have to be so… loud?

“Hush Sister, your voice is audible enough I assure thee. As to what has our Youngblood accomplished?”

Celestia turned about to look at the unicorn. She rolled her eyes in indication toward her sister, raising her head to emphasise. She was always more extravagant and energetic than her sister, for better or worse.

Youngblood approached the laying filly, book in tow in his telekinesis. He stood before the princess, her eyes widening before closing gently. Princess Luna instantly began chuckling, her feminine yet somewhat low voice filling the room.

“We are amused, Youngblood. Thou simply must recall the events that occurred in the retrieval of this literature!” She said between odd bursts of gentle laughter.

Youngblood gave the story, adding features of a fictional nature to captivate his exclusive audience. He shared Luna’s passion of literature and tales of heroism, her reactions appreciative yet excitable. On the contrary, Celestia’s reactions teetered on the fine edge of becoming totally awestruck and ecstatic. Such behaviour as Youngblood’s was frowned upon in their lives of etiquette, professionalism and table manners; hearing the unicorn’s tales were like something out of a fantasy novel.

He concluded with the meeting with their father, eliciting snorts of laughter and suggestive looks from the pair. “And, the banquette is on apparently”.

The two faced each other, staring for a couple of seconds before returning to their bandit in residence. Luna was the first to speak:

“Thy father must believe that great things lie within you, he doth not loan this book’s contents freely.”

“Yes, he must have his reasons.” Celestia agreed.

Youngblood thought for a moment; he had not really considered why he had been given the book, only that he had been given it. Did Lord Capital’s reasoning extend further than simply satisfying Youngblood’s hunger for discovery, to keep him from breaking out of the window at night and abseiling down the castle via a long chain of bedclothes?

“Still the fact remains; thou hast a book of great interest to us. Thou must simply share its spoils with your princess for the sake of curiosity!” Luna interrupted his thinking.

“You can, ‘hast a look at thy book of great internal-est greatness of thy divines’ or whatever, just don’t expect me to take any interest. Besides, I need to prepare for tonight’s event.” And with that, The Princess of the Sun trotted out of the room, head high in a comical pout.

The two shades of blue watched as the white one left their presence, following her form as she disappeared from sight.

“Hither Youngblood,” she indicated with the removal of her abacus, “sit with us, we shall study yonder text.”

He mounted the bed beside his royal friend, the book between them. The two could not help but smile as they savoured the anticipation of discovery; a quick glance at each other signalled the start of their study as the pair began reading in earnest.

***

After several hours of continuous delving into the arcane, a meal sounded right up Youngblood’s street. The banqueting hall was full of ponies, all noble and almost every one of them a unicorn with the exception of the three royals and a select few. The tables were stacked high with savouries, sweets and sophisticated samples of luxurious cuisine. At the rear of the hall and in the centre of the horizontal table sat Lord Capital and his daughters, to their right sat close friends of nobility; each dressed in the finest of attire, and to their left were seated the royal advisors and the castle mage; all dressed uniformly with the mage’s staff in tight against her chair.

Two tables came off at right-angles, forming the main arch of the seated nobles with a table placed between the two flanks, detached from the head table, seating the many students of law and other doctrines as they aspired to become the next greatest figure of Canterlot and to raise their families from the middle-district.

Youngblood found himself sat amongst the many youthful nobles (or ‘snobs’, as he dubbed them). His disposition toward them was quite neutral in respects, however much need not be said about certain individuals.

Across from him, in all his masculine glory and over-groomed, sapphire mane, sat none other than Money Tucker; the cream-coloured alpha male. Ever since Youngblood had been accepted into the royal family’s midst, Money had shown a discontent for him quite unmatched by that of any other. In fact, Money had even boasted rather publicly that it was he who had the desire to ‘take the little rat by his tail and catapult him back into the world of squalor he deserves to rot in’. This merely had the effect of entertaining a few of his clan and even Youngblood himself. That pompous pony was nothing but hot gas, and for all Youngblood could care, the snobbish unicorn could stuff his over-sized head up his own derrière and listen out for nature’s call if he dared as much try and lay a hoof on him.

“I’ve heard that your latest mission ended rather unsuccessfully earlier today, Youngblood. Would you care to enlighten us as to how this happened?” The large stallion asked in a mockingly polite fashion, between the delicate dabs of a napkin.

This little request earned Youngblood numerous pairs of eyes from the three of Money Tucker’s goons as well as from the many mares that followed Money everywhere, swooning in his wake with a puppet-like fashion. The targeted unicorn had barely eaten anything as of presently, yet his stomach felt closer and closer to bursting each time the merciless pig excreted the rhythmic detritus from his gaping maw. And quite frankly, Youngblood was not in the mood for wasting his comparatively pleasant vomit on such a wretched sample of multi-cellular organism.

“Well?” All that aggression he was mentally exerting must have stalled Youngblood’s formulation of a response. You know what, let’s just stay silent and watch him squirm.

It was a well-known fact that Tucker despised being ignored and constantly demanded attention in any form possible as a result. Being denied this had serious consequences that had and would be the nightmares of nobles and servants alike for a lifetime.

Youngblood remained perfectly statuette, eyes locked in a glassy stare. He would drive this coot over the edge and damn-well enjoy every second of it! He judged that it was about that time of the month anyway; this particular activity became much of a routine for Youngblood as the years passed in the presence of this aimless fruit.

“Are you ignoring me, shrew? Did you ever learn that it is impolite to do such things? Oh, sorry! Of course, that sort of thing is rather unheard off at street-level.”

This was followed by a volley of spiteful laughter; ammunition that lacked the penetrating factor required to harm Youngblood’s mind. His armour may have saved him from the wounds, but he still felt them impact as he began to dampen at the brow; a result of the assault and the many eyes regarding him, scanning his social hide for the smallest signs of structural damage.

“Ah! We too afraid to form a rebuttal, urchin? Or did you just lose your tongue whilst cleaning that chimney?”

He held his ground, the sweat threatening to make itself visible to those seated near him.

“You’re driving my patience, Master Youngblood.”

In response, the blue unicorn reached over with his magic to pick up a wedge of bread from the wicker basket between the two rivals. He kept his gaze solid, his eyes frozen in place like soldiers. All the while, he slowly floated the foodstuff over to his mouth, taking care not to contaminate it with the bugger’s breath, and took a slow, dramatic bite. It wouldn’t be long now…

“Attention! Attention all!” The call was followed by four successive knocks on the table and the entire hall fell silent. It was Lord Capital.

“It looks like Money will have to wait.”

“Attention; stallions, mares, fillies and gentlecolts! Now that I have the attention of you all, I would first like to welcome you to this evening’s gathering. I do hope that everything has been satisfactory with regards to the feast prepared by the castle staff?”

A chorus of agreement echoed throughout the hall, Canterlot was known for many things, its abundance of culinary genius for one.

“Excellent, now down to the business at hand. Present with us this evening, we have General Butterscotch of the Canterlot Infantry and General Steelbolt of the Cloudsdale Pegasai Rangers. They have been pulled from the frontlines at extremely short notice and I expect much to the disruption of their subordinates, therefore I have every confidence that one will pay their closest attention to the news they bring. If you please, Generals.” The king indicated for them to stand.

A short applause of respect accompanied the two as they rose from their chairs. The infantry general was a large, stocky earth pony, dressed in a formal military officer’s attire with his peak rested upon the table before him. His orange coat was adorned with a symbol comprising of a collection of chess pieces upon his flanks, symbolising his strategic prowess. To his left-hoof side rose an athletic pegasus, adorned in an exceptionally well-kept piece of light combat armour, made of polished steel and toughened fabric, that hid her cutie mark. She even had her hoofblades strapped on her front ankles, the black holsters contrasting with her cyan coat and multi-coloured mane.

The earth pony began in his Appleoosan accent, “Thank you, Sire. It is mah greatest regret that I must inform you of the events that have occurred as of recent. Three days ago, our forces were attacked by those of Necrodoria at Point Redrock. The keep held for mere hours before the hordes of daemons made their push into the central chambers. What troops we had there formed a last stand within the labyrinths below the surface,” he paused for a moment, “they fought down to the last pony.”

This was followed by a barrage of gasps and nods of heads, even some prayers from those so inclined. The news had been totally unexpected. Necrodoria had remained relatively quiet for the past decade and only now, and in such force, had they come out of hiding in the shadows.

He continued, “And that last pony is with us here today. He managed to escape whilst the daemons descended deeper with some unknown intent.” A pony solemnly raised a hoof, seated right next to the general.

Then the pegasus spoke up, not sporting quite the same accent as the other general. “A squad of my rangers saw him outside of the castle grounds; we had not seen the attack and the effects of the siege were hardly visible. The squad had been sent on recon to determine the outcome; they stumbled upon the soldier purely by chance. He was in no shape to hoof it back here, so they carried him back to the hospital in Manechester where we were based at the time.”

Numerous heads turned to regard the said soldier, eyes full of sympathy for him. He was visibly shaken and sported many feature of a restless mind.

“He also has some important information to share with us this evening; go on, suhn.” The earth pony announced, leaning over to and shaking the shoulder of the distraught soldier in encouragement.

The soldier stood up, all eyes were on his. He was not used to this kind of public display, let alone in front of the upper classes. He was sweating from head to hoof, shaking minutely out of nervousness.

“They… the-they managed to break our last line so we went down into the- the underground corridors. There were… fifteen of us. The sergeant was dead and so we were…” He stopped speaking in his braking voice, his head falling to face the table.

The expansive hall was utterly silent, not a sound. All gazes were fixed upon the foot soldier, his mind falling to pieces.

Then his hoof impacted upon the table, sending a heavy rattle of metal-on-wood across a yard radius. He exploded, “Lightwind turned! He turned right there, right in front of me! He was just standing there one minute, and then the next he was something else! His eyes burned out ofhis skull and he attacked Coppertail, he ripped his limbs off with his teeth… His teeth! We had to kill the both of them…” He calmed slightly, “It was the daemons. They must have gotten into him somehow. Anyway, they came through and slaughtered us. They left me though. They just carried on down and into the main chamber, where the stone was.”

“The Stone of Starlight? They have it?” The king was flabbergasted. The power of the stone were greater than that of any to have existed in the past and the daemons of Necrodoria would surely use them for something utterly evil.

“Apologies, Sire. We tried, but…” The soldier begged.

“Fret not, soldier. We fully realise the ordeal you have been through. But it must be made clear; did they definitely come for the stone?” The king punctuated each word with a strike of his hoof against the table.

The soldier looked up at his ruler, his eyes a violent scarlet. “Yes, Sire; if their chanting was of any truth.” He half spat his last words, his emotions were in turmoil.

The room descended into a haze of mutterings and voices of concern. Lord Capital frantically began thinking of what could possibly happen if the daemons accessed the great power contained within the stone and used it upon his people.

He finally spoke up, “Are they held at Point Redrock? If so, we could send an army to retake the keep and recover the stone.”

The pegasus responded, “They are, Sire. However we cannot be sure of the stone’s location and even with the entire forces of Equestria united, we would not be able to rival our enemy. We simply do not have the numbers to match a force of that size.”

“What size?”

The pegasus looked at the general next to her. He nodded his head before answering the king in a grave tone. “We estimate the force to be of over nahn-hundred-thousand strong, Sire.”

Another wave of voices filled the hall, rendering any attempt of understanding one another near impossible. Some began to panic, others boiled with anger and Lord Capital turned completely pale. His daughters were terrified, looking to each other for support.

Youngblood was awestruck. The images of such sized forces echoed throughout his mind along with the nagging feeling of knowing something or other about a certain Stone of Starlight. The ponies around him showed signs of terrible concern. Money just sneered and made it clear that he was not intimidated in the slightest.

The banquette was quickly dismissed, much of the fine food going to waste. All around Youngblood, herds of ponies began hurriedly leaving the hall, each internally sharing the thoughts and feelings of individual members. Youngblood too rose from his chair but was called out after by none other than Money:

“Where are we off to now, Youngblood. Going to go crying on home to mummy and daddy? Oh wait, they’re dead aren’t they.”

Youngblood froze. His left hoof was suspended in the air mid-step and his facial expression remained completely solid with the exception of his flickering eyelid. He slowly turned about to face the offending unicorn, staring sharp daggers into his eyes from his own. This elicited a few ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s from the group of ponies he had sat with mere minutes ago. All of a sudden, Money Tucker looked a lot uglier than he had previously.

Youngblood had had enough. Years of retribution going to be released in a matter of seconds until from behind him, he heard Celestia call out. They were both there, his royal sisters, just a few yards behind him; both displaying heavy signs of concern for their brother and the situation at hoof as they approached the scene.

“Youngblood, is everything alright?”

“Oh he’s fine, he’s just a bit touchy. Seems like some ponies just fail to comprehend matters of a humourous nature.”

Youngblood responded sharply between clenched teeth, “The only matter of humour here will be the mess I make of your pretty face on the floor!”

The royal sisters quickly acknowledged the nature of the scene and stepped in to retrieve their brother.

“Come, Youngblood. Such insensitivity and spite doth not deserve the attention of one such as thyself.”

Youngblood turned to face Luna, his eyes an icy glare. Luna took one look at him before placing a hoof on his shoulder, her face sincere and overflowing with a great concern for his well-being. Celestia stood before Money, much to his delight.

“Have you not reconsidered my offer, your highness? I was hoping for a swifter response.”

She glared at him, straight at his smirking face, an invisible curtain enclosing the group of ponies as they stared each other down.

“Not in the slightest, Master Tucker. And I will remind you that it is proper etiquette for one to be standing whilst addressing a pony of royalty.”

“With pleasure, your highness,” he rose to his hooves, “however I cannot help but notice how differently your sister thinks of such regulations.”

“What is your point, Money?”

“Well, you just ordered my standing did you not? And here before us, your sister is physically attaching herself to a pony of a low social standing with no thought for formalities whatsoever.”

The princess was outraged, “How dare you insult a member of the royal family! Youngblood has every right to be in the company of my sister. He is a royal figure and you shall treat him as such!”

Money scoffed at this, his eyes rolling at Youngblood and his company. He directed his words to the ponies behind him, though his volume allowed it to be heard by the entire group. “Did you hear that? This retarded little orphan is a member of the royal family? Oh, I bet his parents are ever so proud of him!”

Youngblood snapped around to face the pompous prick, aggression radiating from his form. “They will be now.”

He leapt from Luna’s embrace and charged head-long at the laughing stallion, who failed to notice his clattering hooves. With his head low he tackled the pony, gripping him with his forehooves.

The pair flew back three yards before descending onto the table top where they had once ate. The wind was taken out of Money’s chest and his shoulder caught the prongs of a stray fork. He whelped in pain as best he could, his lungs failing to re-inflate. Youngblood struck him with his forehooves, burying them within his wide-eyed face.

The monarchs staggered back at the clattering sound caused by the two wrestling males. Luna had shed a tear as her brother was wrenched from her by his own rage and was now cowering behind her mane. Celestia had been narrowly missed by the blue torpedo, her eyes wide with shock as she gazed at her brother’s explosion.

It was clear that Money had never fought in the past as he tried to cover his bleeding face with his forelegs, the unrelenting torrent of impacts near freezing him with fear. His goons had fled along with the platoon of mares, leaving him unaided and exposed to Youngblood’s attacks.

Ponies were now crowded around the two and a pair of guards were alerted. They arrived on the scene just in time to save most of Money’s face. Youngblood was prised off the paralyzed snob with great difficulty as he was attended to by a nurse. The blue unicorn could just about make out the odd words of insanity escaping the detritus-ridden noble, resembling ‘crazy’, ‘assault’ and ‘insane’.

They were both carried off, Youngblood followed by his sisters and a furious Lord Capital. Misbehaving was one thing, but assaulting the son of a royal advisor was another. Youngblood did not care for a single solitary second, justice had been done, and for the first time in his life, his enemy’s blood graced his hooves like golden paint.

He felt dizzy from the adrenaline and the passion within his heart. But slowly, he felt other emotions spill into his aggression-filed conscience. He realised what pain he may have caused to others, not to Money though, he was a noble prick.

More precisely, what pain had he inflicted upon his family?