More Than A Stallion

Big Macintosh’s eyes fell on the picture of the Princess. Beneath it, the entire history of the conjuring spell was written—but the four words that really jumped out at him were, “perfected by Princess Luna.”

"Big Macintosh, as much as I hate to say it," said Twilight as she put down the book, "Princess Luna lied to you."

He thought back to the moment when Luna had 'mussed up' the spell. How the scroll had 'burnt' all on its own. How the yoke was 'a little bit bigger'. He'd been made a fool by a pretty mare who knew how to act.

“Eeyup,” he agreed solemnly. Big Macintosh ground his teeth in thought. He looked away for a second. Besides the suit, there was something that felt very odd about all this. Something was... missing.

"Forget this?" Cheerilee presented him with his wheat stalk.  Nipping it into his teeth, he let it settle to the side of his mouth.

"Eeeyup." With his wheat stalk back in place, Big Macintosh could think more clearly.

Fact one, the Princess had promised him a way of dampening his power. Instead, she had given him a costume that made him look like some comic book superhero.

Fact two, she had done this on purpose and lied to him about it. Big Macintosh was never one to question or doubt the authority of anypony of any office (much less the authority of a living goddess), but there was undeniably something very fishy about it.

Wait a minute...

The other ponies in the room stared at the frozen Big Macintosh. He'd stopped moving almost as soon as his wheat had been returned to him.

Luna—and very likely Celestia as well—were both playing at something. Big Macintosh didn’t like it, but it seemed he was at the center of all this. Should he take his case to the Princesses and demand an explanation?

In the meantime, Big Macintosh dreaded the attention he’d likely receive. The crowds of ponies hounding him like he was a living god. He sighed. This was all getting complicated—yet another thing Big Mac disliked.

Why can’t this be simple, like long division or reciting every verse of The Iliad?

Spike hopped up onto Big Macintosh and leaned up against his neck, waving his hands over Big Macintosh's eyes.

"Eeewha?" Big Macintosh muttered as he snapped back into awareness of the world around him.

"Yo, Big Macintosh! Y'arright? You sort of just froze." Spike hopped back off of Big Macintosh.

"Big Macintosh, perhaps you should go home?" Twilight guided Cheerilee and Big Macintosh to the door with a gentle push from her magic. "After all, you stopped a falling train and managed to carry it to Canterlot. You've got to be tired from doing all that."

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow. "But the sui-"

"I'll send Princess Celestia a letter asking about the suit, so don't worry one bit," Twilight said quickly.

Big Macintosh took note of Twilight's haste. Twilight's eyes darted back and forth by mere millimeters, like a foal trying to find a quick way hide a mess they'd made. Small beads of sweat were starting to form on her skin, causing it to become a slightly darker shade of mulberry. He could hear the slight twang of individual hairs flying out of place in her mane and the sounds of blood being diverted to give her brain a quick boost.

While Twilight was normally bad at lying, the fact that it had set off the same sense he'd discovered the train with made him give her a double take. But when he looked back, all he saw was the library door slamming shut.

Big Macintosh walked with Cheerilee back to Sweet Apple Acres, strangely feeling vulnerable despite his abilities. As strong and unique as he’d become, he felt as if his life was beginning to quietly spin out of his control. Cheerilee glanced back at the receding library with a look of worry.

"What do you think has her so worked up?"

Lack Luster looked over a set of notes and complex equations.

Her office matched her name, looking almost completely devoid of anything worth noting. The walls were painted a dreary beige and the tile floor was a dingy brown. A pair of creamy white mass production office chairs sat in front of her mass production oakwood desk on a mass production office rug.

The only thing in her office that didn't look like it came from an assembly line was the large green gem sitting on her desk in a lead container. Rather different from an emerald, the stone pulsated with a sickly green light.

A rapping at her door brought her to attention. The sinister grin creeping up on Luster's face disappeared as she put the jewel into a safe. She recomposed herself.

"Yes? Come in."

The door opened. One of her employees, a clean-cut handsome unicorn, poked his head in almost demurely. "Ma'am! The goggles are undergoing the next round of tests. We require you in the testing chamber immediately."

She held a groan. Hauling herself out of her chair, Lack Luster trotted to the testing chamber. As she passed the doors in the hallways, her mind wandered.

Curse that Swift Sword! How such a blithering idiot could even manage to get material to blackmail me with, let alone carry out the act of blackmail escapes me. Perhaps when this is all said and done, I'll take everything from him. His property. His influence. His power.

Yes! I will crumple him! I will take everything from him and toss him aside like the garbage he is. And to make sure he stays put, I will throw him into a financial hole so deep he'll think his head is still firmly lodged in his-

"We're here, ma'am." The escort held the door open and let Lack Luster pass through before closing it and ran off to complete his paperwork, or something. Lack Luster hardly had time to think about what cubicle workers did, much less care.

Swift Sword grinned at the sight of his extorted worker. "Are you ready, Miss Luster?"

Lack Luster snorted at him. "Ready." To dig you an early grave, she added mentally.

"Alright, let the testing begin. Pull the lever!" Sword flipped on a new set of goggles as the lights dimmed. The world faded away and it was replaced by the burning and dying landscape he'd seen previously.

Swift Sword held out his hoof to catch a falling meteorite. The last time he'd visited, the goggles had operated on a system not unlike an astral projection spell, and the meteorite would have passed right through him. But, with the new upgrade, he could catch the meteorite and feel the lukewarm rock on his coat. His grin threatened to rip his face in half.

"Alright! This is quite a success you managed to pull in just a few hour's notice. I guarantee a pay raise for the pony that can actually send me into this world!"

Several ponies scrambled out of the room and tripped over each other in a rush to get their hands on the formula first. Lack Luster huffed at them.

Those imbeciles should know it would be as simple as crossing a teleportation spell with a ripping spell. With the rip focused on the fabric of reality, it would be simple to lock onto the desired reality and pop in. But of course the one funding this has to be the one unicorn in Canterlot that doesn't know a lick of useful magic.

"Miss Luster, you may return to your office and review what you've seen here. In triplicate." Swift Sword waved her away as groped around the world that only he could see.

"Yes, Swift Sword, sir."

"Sift Sord, Miss Luster. Swift Sword sounds absolutely nothing like my name."

Lack Luster left the room, speed-reading over the results as she did. A small bit of text caught her eye and made her smile brightly. One of the workers passing her in the hallway shrank back in fear. A happy Lack Luster was a scary Lack Luster.

Oleander sat in his office chair, tapping away at a typewritier busily. A loud, angry shout of  "OLEANDER!" made him jump so high into the air that he smacked his head into the ceiling. He bolted from his small, cramped office, past the water cooler, and into the spacious office of his employer, Reedoliver Black-White, or as his employees called him, Mr. White.

Oleander panted heavily. "Ye-yes, sir?

Mr. White was a rather large pegasus with, fittingly enough, an ivory coat and an ebony mane and tail. His chair squeaked weakly as he repositioned his girth every few seconds while chewing his cigar. Oleander swore that the only times Mr. White would look him in the eyes, it was because he'd goofed up somewhere.

"I'm not paying you to publish weak news bulletins about heroes!"

"But that is my job, si-"

"Shut up! Since you picked up the scoop first, I want you to interview this 'Superhorse' before the Griffam Gazette gets their grubby hooves on him! NOW GET MOVING!"

Nodding weakly, Oleander bolted from Mr. White's office like a scared cat, slamming into a wall on his way out. He recovered quickly, and leapt from the nearest window out into Canterlot at evening time. The red light of the setting sun colored everything purple and orange, two of Oleander's favorite colors.

He considered going back to the train station for clues, but a realization hit him. The conversation he'd spied on. He'd heard sensitive government information. He was now part of the conspiracy, whether he wanted to be or not. So he decided to put his skills to the test. He knew that Princess Luna's cover-up wouldn't last for long. What they needed were professionals trained in the art of deceit and sensationalism. And he was just the professional for the job.

No one would ever suspect that Oleander was the mastermind behind the beginning of something beautiful. If Equestria wanted a sensational, bigger-than-life hero, then that's what Oleander was going to give them.

From what he'd gathered previously, this 'Big Macintosh' didn't want fame. He didn't want hundreds of ponies mobbing him. It was why he'd left the stallion's name out of the original news article in the first place. After all, he understood the need for privacy. Saving lives was likely very draining, and a pony doing feats such as those would need their sleep.

At least that was more than what Big Macintosh would be getting if ponies began snooping into the mater of who the stallion in the photo was. He needed to find him before other ponies did, formulate a cover story, and hope the public would buy it.

If Luna wants him to be a hero, then I can't stop her. But I can help push things along a better direction. I just need to come up with the perfect cover plan.

Oleander looked over his memories for any detail that could be helpful in providing a cover up story that would make Big Macintosh and Superhorse two different entities. He scratched his chin with his pencil, landing upon an empty rooftop. The sun had begun making its way down, letting the moon take over. Oleander began the brainstorm of the century, his thoughts taking a turn for the creative under the veil of night.

One, Big Macintosh is red, while Superhorse left the castle with a blue costume. It wouldn't be inconceivable for me to publish a photo of Superhorse and Big Macintosh side-by-side, each with a different, posture, disposition, and personality.

If I can get Princess Luna to help with this, then maybe, just maybe, we have a shot at separating Big Macintosh from the Stallion of Steel.

"Hey! That's a pretty good tagline! I've gotta write this down!" Oleander jotted down the alliterative tagline. Alliteration was his friend in this situation. No pony could possibly resist 'Superhorse, the Stallion of Steel'. After all, 'Big Macintosh, the Stallion of Steel' just didn't sound right.

"Now what kind of things do we know about Superhorse, Ollie?" Oleander bit his tongue in thought.

Fast enough to catch a something falling as fast as a gunshot, strong enough to lift a locomotive and only break a sweat, and able to fly over the city without ever landing. That doesn't sound catchy enough. Hmmm. Faster than a gunshot, strong enough to carry a locomotive, and capable of flying over tall buildings. Dang it, Ollie! Think harder!

Oleander looked up in thought, instantly regretting it. A giant bat-mare-thing jumped from rooftop to rooftop. He caught her eye, and she glared at him with sharp, white eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. It was as if they reflected every terrible deed he'd ever done, like the time he raided the cookie jar as a kid, or the time he pretended to be sick to skip school. They kept their eyes locked for but a few seconds, but Oleander could've sworn it took far longer. The mare broke eye contact and continued galloping across the rooftops.

The terrified griffon smelled urine. He was pretty sure it was his. Shivers of fear and panic that wracked him from his brief encounter with possibly the scariest pony he'd ever laid eyes on. And he was employed by Mr. White!

Bat-mare-things. Ninja Bat-mare-things. Oh great, I'm going insane. I'm going to wind up in a padded cell in Hockham Asylum, just like dad!

Oleander went back to thinking, if a bit paranoid that he was losing it and was already in a padded cell.

Alright, he's faster than a gunshot. Powerful enough to lift a locomotive. With how fast he was moving, his velocity and the amount of force he was exerting, he'd have to have been faster than a speeding bullet and more powerful than the locomotive he was carrying. And he managed to carry all of this over half of Canterlot. Now, if I go by Doctor Python's Coconut-Swallow flight ratio to determine how far it would take him to accelerate to the point he could actually lift the train, in coconuts per swallow, he'd have to have started his flight at least fifty miles away. The only town within that radius would be Ponyville.

Oleander dropped his pencil. "I never thought taking Advanced Physics in high school would pay off." Oleander turned back to his notes. "So he can move faster than a speeding bullet, is more powerful than a locomotive, and is capable of leaping over tall buildings in a single bound." Oleander tapped his chin. "That sounds pretty good.

"Superhorse, the Stallion of Steel! Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap over tall buildings in a single bound!" Oleander fist-pumped. "Yes! It's Superhorse! Flying higher in the sky than any bird, plane, or pegasus could dare to dream, he touches the heavens, he skims the edge of space! Superhorse! Fighting for truth, justice, and the Equestrian way!" Oleander stood up on his hind legs and flared his wings.

"Y'know, I think I have a knack for creative journalism!"

Oleander looked over his notes once more, for anything he might have missed.

"Ponyville, huh? That's pretty far for me, so I'd have to speak with the Princess before I attempt the cover-up."

Oleander took off into the skies and made way for the night court. Ponies rarely attended, so it was highly likely he'd be the only visitor for the night. It was a rather short flight from the rooftop to the castle, a fact which he was thankful for.

Oleander landed before the night guards at the front entrance of the castle.

"State your name and business here."

"James Oleander. I wish to interview the princess about the mysterious Superhorse that showed up earlier today."

"Normally, you'd need to call ahead, but nothing's scheduled for tonight. Just show us your press pass."

Oleander panicked. He looked himself over for it. IHe checked over pocket twice over, and even bothered to look in his hat for it, to no avail.

"Would that be it, on your tail?"

Oleander looked at his tail, where surely enough, his press pass was tied to his tail.

The guards laughed and moved to the sides allowing Oleander entry. "Heh! Alright kid, you can enter. It's a slow night, and we needed a laugh."

Oleander inwardly wished that the two guards would fail their next uniform inspection as he walked down a staircase and into the Night Court.

In contrast to Celestia's Day Court, where the walls looked bright and cheery, Oleander was pretty sure he was entering what was initially a mausoleum. Rectangular chambers in the walls held books of many shapes and sizes, with melting candles casting the court in a dreary light. Tall, twisted torch-stands bathed the main path in a pale blue. From here, Oleander spied no guards—instead, there were disturbing statues of pegasus ponies with sharp teeth striking graceful dancer poses.

Ahead, the Princess of the Night herself was seated on a plush black cushion that acted as her throne. All around Her Majesty were more statues, these of giants and goblins and demented goat-headed beasts, fawning over her as if in adoration. The moment Oleander approached Her Majesty’s throne, the giant statues looked up and stared, startling him.

Oleander strode up to the throne and bowed quickly.

"It is rare that a reporter wishes to interview us. James Oleander from the Daily Canter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"We greatly enjoyed your editorial from a few years ago about the advantages of returning to a diarchal principality." Luna cocked an eyebrow. "So, what is it that thee wishes to know about 'Superhorse' as you called him in the paper?"

Oleander's facial muscles struggled. They were being pulled into a configuration they had not practiced. Seriousness.

"Princess," Oleander paused. "I know about the cover-up." As he finished his sentence, winds roared and doors slammed shut, until all that remained was the torch light the lined the Night Court. In the faint light, he could see that the statues lining the hall were the guards. He felt the blade of a spear against his throat. Thanks to his encounter with the bat-ninja from before, he was thankfully out of urine. He tried his best to remain cool, even as he saw the cold, glowing eyes of the statue-guards and felt their ice-cold breath. The moment Luna waved a hoof, they resumed their statue-like grace.

"And I want to help. Nopony is ever going to buy just the Princess' words alone."

The doors opened once more. "Guards, stand down." Luna looked down at Oleander. "Go on."

Oleander pulled up all the courage he could. From every fiber of his being, Oleander mustered up the courage to lecture a princess on the workings of conspiracy.

"Nearly everypony believes what they hear in media. If you want Big Macintosh to be a hero, then fine. He'll be the hero. But he was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of being known across the country as a hero. It's why I left his name out of the article in the first place." Oleander stopped for a moment, closed his eyes and breathed deep. "Look, everypony I know thinks I'm a screw-up. A putz. And I am. This identity I've cultivated will help prevent suspicion from my involvement in this cover-up."

Luna looked at him, her lips pursed in deep thought. The statues above her seemed to share in her rumination. She couldn't help but detect that there was a little more to his self-deprecation than just suggesting a shield he could hide behind while simultaneously siding with her.

The princess nodded. "We see where you're coming from, but how exactly do you intend to separate Big Macintosh from Superhorse? The public has already seen him without the costume."

"That where you, me, and Big Macintosh come in. We lie. We tell the public a romanticized story of a great hero. We give them something to believe in. We give them a hero they can believe in. A hero to aspire to. A hero to set an example."

"We only intended for Big Macintosh to remove the corrupt C.E.O. of StarLabs, without ordering a lawsuit. They're too many loopholes and failures in the system that Swift Sword has taken advantage of, and we need a pony to depose him. Our sister told us the story of Big Macintosh, so we have waited for just the right circumstances for him to realize his power."

Oleander tilted his head. "Wouldn't that take years, or even months?"

Luna shook her head. "No. We knew he would find his power soon. You could say We had a 'gut feeling' about it."

"Well, I guess I can't blame you for following instinct. Half of my writing is just that. Speaking of my writing, look."

Oleander held his notepad out to Luna. The notepad was floated away from Oleander's talons and hovered in front of the Princess. She scanned the awkward chicken-scratch of Oleander's writing. He even drew a castle. Luna cocked her head, then looked back up at Oleander in bafflement.

"Those are all the notes I took of Big Macintosh's, or rather Superhorse's capabilities. Princess, I hate to sound rude," Oleander took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself, "but you're missing the bigger picture here. Superhorse doesn't just have to serve one purpose and then be stripped of his powers. Consider how many monsters have been getting loose, and the fact that pretty much everything from one thousand years ago is breaking free,- no offense."

Oh crap! I went on a tangent and mentioned the moon thing and now she's gonna get mad an send me to the moon to show me what it's like being trapped on a giant space rock!

"None taken."

Oleander breathed a sigh of relief.

"- We need a hero that can stop them. The Elements of Harmony can't be the only fall back plan. We might not have Shining Armor and Princess Cadence around to do their love force-field spell thing. We need somepony that could knock out a rampaging Ursa Major in a single punch. We need a pony who can save a falling airboat. We need a pony who we can rely on to be there."

Oleander stood up on his hind legs and flapped his wings to hold him upright. Placing his fists on his hips, he stood triumphant, determined, and unwilling to take 'no' for an answer.

"Princess Luna, we need Superhorse."