The Grey Path of Arcane Gears

In the dead center of Cinder a group of two Pegasi and one black unicorn hid on an ash smothered balcony. The trio breathed silently and moved without sound as they spied between balcony curtains. The Dragon Celestia sat slouched in an ebony throne with a large standing mirror before her. Blue eerie light came from the object, suggesting she was looking at something other than her reflection. Occasionally she would shift and scratch under her embroidered loin cloth, but otherwise not budge from her position.

Ivar gears wanted to sigh. One sound would be her last, so deep inside the frustration went. The object that started this damn war was right there, being protected by the world’s most dangerous couch potato.

—

There’s dreaming of a moment, then there’s facing that moment in real life. Arcane felt her stomach twist with anxiety as she opened the small black box. She delicately took out the white rose earring and loaded it into her gun. With a deep breath she slid the jaws along her left ear lobe and pulled the trigger.

Her hand went limp and the gun, along with her satchel fell with a small plume of dust. She didn’t feel a thing, not for a long and disappointing ten seconds. Then the white rose bloomed.

Her back clenched as her eyebrows practically touched. Every muscle in her body began to seize up as jolts of energy raced through her nerves. Thoughts and memories randomly played in her mind like a million televisions she was forced to view at the same time. Her entire life, every good and terrible memory with emotion and sensation as clear as the day they were made assaulted her conscious.

She recalled moments before she jumped off the cliff. She remembered the momentary joy of flying that was never her’s, the pain of her mind being ripped open by a talent she couldn’t control. Yet, that wasn’t the only moment that made her want to be more, feel more, to be stronger. That desire began with jealousy, but evolved into rage, into hunger. It was a moment she wasn’t proud of, but one she couldn’t will herself to regret. In the absence of that memory the feelings remained. Only now, with every shadowed corner of her mind lit up with an overwhelming force, did she recall that memory.

For most of her life she felt insignificant. Those her age, for the most part, didn’t make her feel it. The elders, however, looked at her with disdain or patronizing flattery. She was Earth, in the ancient reign of Alicorns they were servants, surfs, and slave. Strong, but so were livestock.

Age 11

The bell for school chimed from the tower of Everfieild All-ages School. Up a steep hill it sat, a stone and mortar structure once used as a military hospital. Now its ancient sturdy walls, oaken corridors, and open courtyard serve to educate children all around the tiny town. Large as it was, the school held only two thousand fillies and colts. Some came as far as East bay where fish were caught, and Appleosa which edged dangerously close to the badlands.

Arcane walked with her school bag over her shoulder, as one did those days. Her three close friends hovered about as they made the crest of the hill and walked into the rusted-stuck gates between a long stone archway and the inner courtyard.

The conversation was long forgotten, but she clearly remembered what stopped it. A smaller mare she barely knew was standing in front of a Seventeen year old scrawny colt leaning against the shaded wall with a lit cigarette in his left hand. The image of two crossed swords appeared on his forehead, the proof he was a Unicorn.

“Don’t say that, you can’t say that!”

The small filly had her hands balled into tight fists along her sides, a deep scowl on her face.

“What? Mudmane? That’s what you call each other, right?”

Against her friends' warning Arcane walked up to the unicorn high schooler herself.

“What’s a mudmane?”, she asked as if that word had never been used on her before. Of course it had. No Earth Pony ever went without hearing it in the rural edges of Celestia’s empire.

The Stallion cracked a smile that made Arcane’s skin crawl.

“Mudmanes work the fields, cutie. They do what they were always good for, being nice little farm tools for their betters. In fact, my great great great granddaddy owned thousands, and most of the land around here. Shame that had to change. Those folk saved us all from famine, you know. All because they stood back and listened to those far smarter. Brains and Brawn, perfect harmony.”

Arcane’s eyes glazed over with a cold, emotionless stare.

“Oh, I see.” Inside, she was seething. That lecherous stare, that undeserved cockyness. She was a thing in his eyes. Sexually and otherwise.

She felt power welling up inside as she walked closer. The presupposed feeling of crushing this bug in front of her felt frighteningly realistic. She imagined it was like breaking an egg, just a few layers thick.

Her left fist curled in a tight ball as her blank stare captured his gaze. The pink flash from her fingertips immediately followed a blur of white. One moment she stood and the next her fist was planted an inch from the stallion’s head. The creep could only look on with a dumbstruck stare as his head fell near Arcane’s fist and the shallow crater it formed.

The stallion collapsed like a scarecrow without a pole. The other mares screamed as he lay there with a chip of stone shrapnel lodged into the back of his skull.

She should have been horrified, but no. She wanted to hit him this time, to finish it. It took all her will to hold back that part of her that screamed to be free of any moral ‘high road’.

Less than an hour later the Unicorn was sent to a hospital in the city and eventually recovered, with some lasting nerve damage. Arcane was expelled and given a year of community service for her assault. Her parents moved to WestBay and enrolled her into an all-girls academy. After the incident Arcane never spoke of it, as if it never happened.

Age 20

“Arcane Gears!!”

She felt a pair of hands cup her shoulders. Somehow it made her snapback to the present, but the emotions of desire and fury remained burning in the back of her mind worse than ever before. Her head pivoted down slightly, still rigid from the power coursing in her veins.

The figure standing in front of her was faint. It reminded her of dust on a window, only visible if you look at the right angle and in the best light.

The narrow face and goat-like horns made the figure look Draconic, but those pale sightless eyes were unmistakable.

“Silent Brook…?”

Confusion competed with the other wayward emotions in Arcane’s mind. The confused look on her face made the vague specter smile.

“Yes. It’s me, one born in a world now dead, all to keep a disgraced queen alive.”

“So, your talent isn’t just seeing all possibilities. You can look through their eyes.”

“Well, aren’t you clever”, Silent Brook said in a tease, “Not every reality has a Silent Brook, but if there is one then our memories merge.

I’ve seen you more times than I can count, perhaps because fates are tied in funny ways. I’ve seen you live, I’ve seen you go corrupt. I’ve tried to help and sometimes, just sometimes you make the right decision.”

Arcane forced her quivering lips into a smile. The pain of her muscles seizing made tears come easily, but it was that guide of hers that made them surface.

“What then? I feel like I could crack open this world right now, I can do anything. I’ve read more magic books than any Unicorn I know and now I have all the power in the world to cast those spells. I don’t even have to think that deeply about it. The only problem is knowing where I should stop, but I don’t think I can.”

Silent Brook moved closer and placed hands on the mare’s shoulders. Arcane could feel the lukewarm brush of air, just a consistent whisp instead of solid palms. It barely felt like anything, but it still reminded her of a mother’s touch.

“There is one thing I know for certain. I can’t tell you what that decision is. Spoilers tend to make things worse.

So, you’re afraid of trying to be a hero yet becoming a villain instead? I’m sure that’s what the Dragon Celestia told herself before breaking the Elements in her reality. I’m sure that’s what many said before losing their way.

Maybe it was because they worried about what they wanted to become, and didn’t appreciate who they were. Not the role the world forced on them, or what they were taught to idealize, but their own power. What made them strong.

Who are you, Arcane? Use that incredible power flowing in your body and tell me.”

The mare looked into Silent Brook’s eyes. Who was she? She was curious, dangerously so. She was ambitious, dangerously so. She would break things to see how they work, she would flirt with magic that drove countless others insane.

She was the mare that healed her parents and so many others, but no, that wasn’t quite right. She was a member of a team. She was also the kind that could break rules and rob a graveyard in the name of medicine.

She was no hero, but no villain either.

When Arcane was young and bedridden with the flu her mother would read her favorite book, at the time. ‘Shining Sword and the Knights of the Round Stable’.

The story began with Shining Sword as a colt living as a serf in medieval Canterlot. Though he didn’t know it, Shining Sword was the rightful heir to the throne, and soon he would draw a powerful blade from an ancient stone to prove just that.

One pivotal character in the story was GreyBeard, a hermit of a Unicorn that foresaw a sequence of events that would lead to a fair and kind King. However, to accomplish this he had to seduce King DragonBlood into desiring a peasant mare. The resulting bastard colt would become Royal blood, but be raised among the common folk so his heart would be untainted by greed and privilege.

GreyBeard also crafted a magic sword with the help of Sylphs. The blade would only obey the king's blood, but also test the heart of its wielder. In the heat of battle the sword tested the heart of DragonBlood and brought out his lust and greed for all to see. Before he was struck down, the King drove the magic blade into a stone. Many tried to pull it free and claim power, but only one would.

Ultimately, the Actions of GreyBeard brought the kingdom into a time of peace.

When Arcane was young she didn’t understand why Greybeard didn’t use the sword himself. Now she understood. He wasn’t a hero, a hero wouldn’t of had the gall to do what a perfectly sane mind would dare.

“I’m GreyBeard.”

Silent brook tilted her horned head back in what looked like genuine surprise. So often the now-dragon seemed as if she already knew what the other person was about to say. Perhaps she did. This time she looked lost and hesitated. Only after a fat pause did she speak.

“And so what are you going to do now?”

Arcane closed her eyes and unfocused her mind. Her muscles began to relax as she let out a slow deliberate breath.

“Be the crazy wizard. What else?”