The Tome of Exalted Ponies

The Black Claw stylist swallows a spoonful of soup before blowing on it, and makes a great display of how his tongue has been burnt. The hearts of everyone in attendance go in sympathy out to the Black Claw stylist, and they curse the wicked soup that would scorch so fair a tongue!

…

Of all the things that Speaker had seen, of all the things he could remember from the first age, then this “Western Dam” was a completely new experience: The ground was… solid, sort of, but it was like walking over a pontoon bridge, or the Denzik city ship, as if everything was floating a little bit, but at the same time there was grass and other strange wyld-wrought plants growing, jiggling, moving, as if the whole place was a fever-dream of an island made real.

It was a refuge and safe meeting place for lunars operating in the west, or operating in the western wyld – though it looked… very barebones. Literally: A lot of totems and decorations wrought of strange bones were strewn about the place, a few structures even appearing built by massive bones from gigantic oceanic monsters, or perhaps giant changeling monsters, with hides or rough-spun fabric or sailcloth stretched over them. Everything looked very crude, very hastily set up – but at the same time nothing looked to be that expensive to leave behind.

And then there were the ponies. Four of five dozen of them, milling about the place. Some, where sitting around bonfires, others were cleaning fish they had caught, others appeared to be wrangling captive changelings. A few were wrestling each other with some cheering them on, others were singing – the whole place had a cheerful campground vibe to it, that reminded Speaker of his youth with the Lookshyan boyscouts, when out camping in the eastern jungles.

“Sage of the Depth, you came – I take it that your trainee is ready for her markings?” An elderly-looking mare with bright, almost glowing, moonsilver tattoos, said in sea-tongue as she approached Sage, Speaker and Shimmer.

Changing back into a pony, Sage threw Shimmer a brief glance, then turned to the mare: “Oh I’m sure I could teach her more – but she’s ready to fly the coop, especially now that her solar showed up”

“You… no…” the mare began slowly, looking first at Shimmer, then at Speaker with eyes turning wide.

Speaker couldn’t tell if the mare was afraid, or if it was a positive reaction. The mare approached him, a brief glance with essence sight telling him that her essence was at least as potent as that of Sage, both of them more powerful than himself. Sizing Speaker up, the mare sniffed at him… wrinkling her nose: “You smell of the everfree forest, easterner”

“I am born of Lookshy, but I am one of the lords of a city state that goes by Sunhill, which is north of Great Forks, further east from Lookshy. Last Shimmer was instrumental in building Sunhill to what it is today, so there’s a lordship waiting for her there if she wants it” Speaker stated.

Sage left Speaker and Shimmer with the other lunar, trotting off. The old mare looked at Speaker with a distrusting glare: “You would do wisely to watch your step and stay quiet – there will be others here who will not want solars here”

“I have no intention of sticking around – when can Shimmer be ready to travel?”

“I will have the inks rendered soon enough. Consider carefully whether you actually attend the marking ceremony – you may have to fight for the right to be there” the old crone said, sounding eerily pleased with her words, as if she was hoping to see a fight.

Speaker acknowledged that he had understood the crone’s warning: “Very well – by the way, what do I call you?”

“I go by Five Horns, but you will call me Elder Horns, of the Crossroads Society. I am the keeper of this den”

Satisfied, Speaker suddenly found himself being pulled silently on by Shimmer towards a large bonfire surrounded by dozens of ponies. Elder Horns waved them off, shaking her head.

“Finally – can you speak to me now?” Speaker wondered.

Shimmer instantly stopped tugging Speaker towards the bonfire, turning to him and shaking her head. Speaker sighed: “Right, then we should find Sage and have him release you from that oath of silence – though I do find it impressive that you’re sticking to it this well. The Shimmer I knew would have found it very difficult to stay quiet like this”

The mare made a very frustrated expression, clearly communicating agreement with Speaker’s assessment. She then looked around, even sniffed the air, and began hauling Speaker in a different direction.

Seeking out the Sage, the two tracked him to a small hut guarded by half-shark beast-ponies. Approaching the hut, the beast-ponies crossed their magical spears to bar the two entry.

Stepping up in front of them, Shimmer… didn’t say a word? Yet Speaker got the distinct impression that a conversation was being had. The unseen and unheard back and forth continued for a few minutes, until the guards pulled back their spears and allowed Shimmer – not Speaker – entry.

Shooting Speaker an apologetic look before heading inside, Shimmer disappeared behind the pelt that covered the doorway. Speaker wondered how these shark-ponies talked. Could they even vocalize? He hadn’t heard them say anything: “Care to fill me on what she said?”

The two shark-ponies exchanged glances and more unsaid words, then shook their heads at Speaker, leaving him high and dry.

Annoyed, but not wanting to cause a scene as it might complicate his situation with Shimmer and her tattoo ceremony, Speaker looked around for something else to pass time with. Sitting down, he checked in with Sunhill to give another status update, and check-up the medical wards. The doctors that helmed the medical wards were thankful for the advice and instructions on the few complicated cases that had come in since Speaker’s last check-in.

His last consultation was cut short when Speaker felt someone poking him. Snapping his perception back to his own body, Speaker looked up at the… pony with a large amount of cat features? Forelimbs with paws instead of hooves, his head had cat-like features, tail was a large furred sausage, but there was still a cutie-mark, and hind-limbs had hooves and the lunar was covered in moonsilver tattoos: “You there?”

“Yes? Can I help you?” Speaker inquired, feeling a tad annoyed that his medical consultation had been disrupted.

The cat-lunar bounced back a bit: “Oh, it talks… who are you? You’re new here – who did you come here with?”

Briefly considering his options, Speaker was torn on whether to simply flash his caste mark to introduce himself, or to say who and what he was: “Does it matter?”

“It does” the cat-lunar said, smiling with a mouth that was far wider than that of a normal pony… and had much sharper teeth – and a single claw extended from his paw to pick those teeth: “…we get sidereal spies trying to sneak in here fairly often. Have to check all new faces, and sometimes even the old faces – maybe peel off your eyes to see if there are stars hidden behind them”

Ah, operational security. This was a problem that Speaker knew well, with all the guild spies and deathlord spies that routinely try to sneak into Sunhill: “Right – and how do I know you’re not one?”

The cat-lunar paused for a moment, then he smirked and twirled around himself quizzically: “Oh… how DO I know I’m not a sidereal spy?”

Speaker chuckled as the cat-lunar wandered off talking to himself. A tap on his shoulder made him turn: It was shimmer.

“Can you finally talk now?” Speaker asked, it occurring to him that he didn’t really know how her voice would sound.

Shimmer looked timid. There was a nod, but at the same time she suddenly seemed strangely shy compared to how eager she had been earlier. Still, she had the same blue eyes, the same purple dreadlocked mane, the same grey coat. This was Shimmer, no doubt about it.

“Sage of Depth said it was ok for me to talk… I just… I don’t know what to say” Last Shimmer finally said, her voice young and vigorous, but at the same time her voice was a bit deeper than the Shimmer Speaker remembered. It was close enough though.

This time it was Speaker’s turn to embrace Shimmer, hugging her dearly: “Last time I heard your voice, you were dying… I can’t tell you how good it is to hear you alive and well again”

Since he was hugging Shimmer, Speaker couldn’t see the very distraught and weirded out expression Shimmer was making in response to that statement: “Ok…”

“Oh, so you vouch for this stranger?” the cat-lunar said, having appeared out of nowhere once more.

Letting go from the hug, Speaker turning to look at the cat-lunar… but he wasn’t there. Shimmer in turn had been able to track the lunar, looking down underneath them where a leopard-looking large cat had snuggled up: “Yes – he is my solar mate. Now go bother someone else”

The leopard-pony slinked off, leaving Speaker and Shimmer to awkwardly look at each other.

“So…” Speaker began, but Shimmer sighed to interrupt him: “I spent three weeks crying after burying everyone – and then Sage came and trained me… I’m grateful that I can talk again, but with you here now… I need some time to process this. I’m sorry milord”

Smiling, Speaker nodded: “I understand – I remember how tumultuous it was to exalt. I’ve only been a solar for a few years myself… and unlike you here, I had no-pony to help train me or guide me”

Shimmer shook her head: “Yes milord… they keep telling me I should be grateful…”

“You don’t sound sure?” Speaker commented, looking around the camp for something more positive to talk about.

Shimmer scratched the ground, making an expression that Fred couldn’t quite nail down. It was a subtle mix of disgust and distrust: “Sage has some very… strong ideas… about how things should be done. Kept trying to talk me into staying here, saying that it would be bad if I go with you – that I’ll just get killed again – but I just feel… ugh… I’m sorry Lord Bright – I’m not good at this yet”

“Have you spoken with any other lunars about this?”

“Couldn’t – Sage had me promise to not vocalize… I had to learn to talk squid and shark, and nobody here but Sage and his soldiers speaks that – but we can do that now Lord Bright!” Shimmer said, the tone of voice telling a subtle story of harsh training and an unforgiving teacher.

Thus, the two walked among the ponies of the ‘Western Dam’, talking to other ponies. Speaker saw a lot of ponies suffering from wyld mutations, and Shimmer explained that the great western dam was a refuge for ponies who had been cast out from their own, for having been mutated by the wyld: “Sometimes fisherponies drift into a patch of wyld-tainted water, or they’ll catch a fish that swam through it and whoever eats it ends up mutated… and they’re the lucky ones who aren’t just murdered by their own tribes or villages, or eaten if they turn into a fish – it’s horrible Lord Bright”

Speaker recalled of the old Shimmer having told of similar stories, of fisher-ponies getting caught in wyld-storms and turning into fish or seals that their own tribes-ponies would later hunt and eat. Shimmer said that stories like that were often told to foals and fillies in the west to teach them why staying away from the wyld was so important.

“I can heal mutations – maybe we could organize something here, to help them?” Speaker suggested.

Shimmer thought about it for a moment: “Sage and Horns both told you that there are lunars here who won’t like having a solar around. I like your idea Lord Bright, but we’d have to get Horn’s blessings”

“Then let’s find her”

The den-mother, venerable elder Great Horns, was found directing mutant ponies around for setting up… something. Seating arrangements, strangely coloured and oddly brittle wyld-seaweed for building up a fireplace and clearing the ground by rolling the grass back as if it was a carpet.

“Last Shimmer – showing your friend around?” Elder Horns mused.

Nodding, Shimmer asked about the mutant refugees: “Speaker can heal them… but he’ll probably start flaring up if he does that. Who do you think will complain to you about that?”

“Nobody” Elder Horns said knowingly.

Shimmer squinted: “What? But you said earlier to Lord Bright…”

“Yes – now think young one, why would anyone complain to me? No, what would they do instead?” Elder Horns asked, clearly challenging Shimmer to puzzle out the answer on her own.

Speaker figured out the answer instantly, though he held his tongue: Elder Horns was clearly insinuating that the lunars would go straight to using force against him – not simply bellyaching about his presence. It took Shimmer a few tries, but she figured it out eventually, though she wasn’t happy about it: “But you’re the den-mother here – you can say Lord Bright’s allowed to stay here”

“Why would I do that? He’s not involved with any project that anyone here is working on – and he hasn’t been subtle about wanting to go home once you’re ready to leave – if he gets kicked out early, it’s no skin off my back” Elder Horns noted while pulling various strange jars out of elsewhere and arranging them in a circle around her.

Shimmer was about to get angry and say something stupid, but Speaker put a calming hoof on her shoulder: “Don’t – just confirm that she won’t object to me healing the mutants here”

Elder Horns simply nodded: “You two go right ahead and heal those who want it – just be ready to face the music when Three Tails or Scale Tooth catches wind of you”

Leaving Elder Horns to her business, the duo headed to the largest group of mutants they could spot. The mutants appeared to be singing around a large fireplace where dried mutant plants were burning. The fire had strange colors, of the sort you only found in the wyld, with colors that didn’t truly exist.

With a few discreet inquiries, word quickly spread that a magical healer had visited the dam, one who claimed that he could undo mutations. Speaker’s charms worked flawlessly, his order-affirming blow striking at the chaotic energies that had tainted the ponies who sought out his treatment. It was a bit messy, as tentacles, scales and other growths were shed, while internal mutations were similarly excreted from one end or the other, often at high pressure. Despite the harrowing experience for his patients, then they were all smiles once Speaker was done – quite a few of them crying with joy, now that they could return to their families and tribes.

Speaker in turn found the experience delightfully rewarding. With but a glance he could intuit all that was wrong with the mutants, from physical mutations to wyld-induced mental issues or the dreaded wyld-addictions which were known to lead ponies to keep seeking out the wyld, until they mutated so much that they entirely stopped being ponies.

Word quickly spread throughout the refuge, and even elder Horns came by to nod approvingly as Speaker laid his hooves on puss-leaking mutant boils, the horrible afflictions fading away as golden light washed over them.

That was when the ground shook. And again. And again. The impossibly heavy hoof-stomps were impossible to ignore as the oddly lean and wiry looking lunar mare approached: “Shiver me timbers… what is this nonsense?”

The no-longer-mutant ponies tried explaining the situation, but were all swept aside by an elongated limb from the approaching lunar: “What grog-brain thought it was a good idea to invite a bloody solar in here?”

Shimmer got up in front of the lunar: “Sage of the Depths led him here, and he is my solar mate – so back off!”

The wiry lunar smirked and looked down at Shimmer – despite being at the same height as her. A silvery ripple ran along his length: “Stand aside young-blood”

“Scale Tooth, back off!” Shimmer said, appearing surprisingly brave despite knowing full well that she was hopelessly outclassed by the looming lunar elder.

Scale Tooth looked at Shimmer, his eyes a baleful pale glow: “Prancing around with borrowed courage… how pathetic. Stand aside young blood, or you’ll get hurt”

Finally, Speaker spoke up, not turning to look at Scale Tooth, but addressing him none the less: “Touch her and you will have to answer to me. Chose the wiser option. I have fought a deathlord to a standstill”

The elder lunar switched his attention from Shimmer to Speaker: “You dare threaten me?”

“Yes – and as Shimmer pointed out, then if you have issue with my presence and who led me here, then take it up with Sage of the Depths who saw fit to guide me here, or me directly” Speaker said quickly and succinctly, knowing from conversations with the old Shimmer that many martially inclined lunars only respected courage and might, so he opted to present a fearless front.

Scale Tooth took a deep breath through his nose in Speaker’s direction: “You stink of sidereal essence”

“I have a lot of friends, some sidereals – some of them even owe me favours. Bite me” Speaker retorted, well aware that such a taunt might be taken as a form of encouragement to start a fight.

The lunar appeared wise enough to recognize the taunting dismissal for what it was. The way he wrinkled his nose at Speaker in disgust certainly spoke volumes – but the most telling response was how Scale Tooth began to swell…

With protean power, as befit a chosen of Luna – the goddess of the moon of many shapes, Speaker and Shimmer both saw Scale Tooth swell into a gigantic crab monster. Its massive shell appeared thick and replete with spikes, and its eye-stalks homed in on Speaker with deadly intent – and its gigantic claw made a lazy swipe, more to intimidate than to actually hit and hurt anyone.

The mutants and other ponies who had come to Speaker for healing ran for their lives, while Speaker and Shimmer stood firm. The half-crab monster howled, foaming at its mouth. “Be gone solar, sidereal friend. You are not welcome here!”

Shimmer looked up at the gigantic beast, the crab-monster easily being the size of a small ocean-faring ship: “Lord Bright… how do we do this?”

“Like this” Speaker said calmly, rushing towards the crab with amazing speed. Even with the finest of predatory charms, Scale Tooth couldn’t keep up, allowing Speaker to get under the lunar and wrangle his legs. Tripping the giant lunar, the massive creature barely managed to tip over and touch the ground before Speaker managed to buck him high into the sky.

Shimmer looked on in amazement: “What the… how?”

“Hoof the daystar style is very good at grapples and throws… even more so with large targets” Speaker said, catching his breath as the crab monster flew up.

Now, as most ponies would recognize that what goes up has to come down. Speaker disagreed, using a strangely subtle martial arts charm to make sure that once Scale Tooth reached the peak of his flight… that he stayed there.

Doing a double-take, Shimmer couldn’t quite understand why the giant crab wasn’t coming down: “Why… why isn’t he falling?”

“Because I like floating targets – they’re easier to hit” Speaker noted, calling upon his magical weapons from the extra-spacial realm of elsewhere. The golden disc phased into reality, attached to Speaker’s right forehoof. A second golden disc, one featuring a large hole in the middle, phased into being on Speaker’s left forehoof.

Flinging both discs at Scale Tooth, Speaker applied the linear flight principle he knew so well – making Scale Tooth fly high into the sky as both discs banked and struck the giant crab with their flat sides, imparting great force upon the floating lunar, but not really harming it. This continued for a good half minute, the discs smacking the giant crab around up in the air, like foals playing with a ball.

When the giant crab vomited, spraying sick everywhere from on high, Speaker finally let Scale Tooth drop, crashing into the ground with a grand plume of water and dirt flying everywhere from the muddy crater.

Walking up to the giant crab, Speaker asked: “Do you yield?”

Its eye-stalks barely able to stand still, still spinning around from how the crab had bounced around up in the air, Scale Tooth was barely able to string words together: “You… you dirty rotten…”

Holding one of his golden discs up to one of the eye-stalks, Speaker had the disc deploy a ring of golden razor hooks around its edge, the razors quickly spinning into action with a puff of steam from the disc: “I defeated you without hurting you. Accept that, or I can defeat you by also hurting you”

Struggling to get up, clearly still dizzy, the giant crab made strange angry crab noises. Silver-blue light glowed from its joints and exposed soft parts like its mouth and eye-stalks: “This isn’t over!”

“Very well – just remember, you chose this” Speaker shouted, spinning around and launching his bladed disc at the giant crab in rapid succession, the disc zipping back to his hoof faster than the eye could see, allowing him to throw it repeatedly as if he had multiple identical discs.

Scale Tooth laughed as the spinning-bladed disc scraped at his shell and claw: “So that’s why you tried to trick me with your flying tricks – you can’t actually hurt me with that thing. My shell is the thickest there! Realm ballista bolts do nothing to me!”

Shimmer had retreated away from the fighting, having realized long ago that she had absolutely no chance at influencing the outcome of the bout. She looked on with amazement as Speaker lit up, bright golden soul-fire burning around him as his anima roared into view: Three pairs of beautiful golden wings unfolded around him, centred on a glyph-covered golden gear that spun around him. It felt so very familiar to her. It felt right. It felt safe.

What had he done to flare his anima that much?

With a trick of the hoof Speaker tucked his bladed disc away into elsewhere, instead retrieving the other disc he had, the one with a big hole in the middle of the disc. This disc didn’t deploy blades around its outer edge: With a strange magical sound it instead of lit up with an edge of bright golden light, and once more Speaker spun to fling the disc with great momentum at Scale Tooth who wasn’t quite done chuckling.

But this was different. Scale Tooth’s roar showed that much: As the disc struck and burned deep grooves into the crab shell and zipping back to Speaker’s hoof, only to be flung again, other ethereal copies of the disc sprung out of Speaker’s anima and cut into the same groove in the armor, deepening them greatly. Scale Tooth raised his massive claws to defend and parry the discs and their magical copies, but they simply cut into the shell segments that covered the claws… over and over, and with each time the disc hit, so came two more phantom discs that melted just as much shell away.

Before Scale Tooth had any idea of what was going on, much of his oh so grand crab shell had been cut away, leaving large sections of his soft innards completely exposed.

The giant Lunar could not do much to recover other than use healing charms to close up what few wounds the shell-cutting had inflicted on him as the compromised shell greatly hindered his range of motion, with Speaker leaping up on the giant crab and holding his glowing disc’s edge up to an expose section of Scale Tooth’s innards. Bending back an eye-stalk so that the crab could see what he was threatening to do, Speaker spoke once more: “Yield, or this inside goes of you – and once inside, it will not make it stop until you are dead”

Foaming briefly at his mouth, Scale Tooth roared in impotent frustration – but as the roar abated the crab spoke: “I yield…”

Jumping down from the crab, Speaker found himself approached by other lunars that congratulated him on his cunning and clever use of exotic martial arts. Elder Horns was among them: “…and you barely even spilt his blood. How will he ever live this humiliation down?”

“That sounds like his problem, not mine” Speaker noted, very satisfied that he had been able to win quickly and efficiently.

Elder Horns shook her head: “I’m sure he’ll vent his fury on some more realm shipping once he leaves. Now, I have gathered my inks for Last Shimmer’s tattoos. Bring her to where we spoke earlier”

At the ceremonial circle, many a pony – quite a few of the ones Speaker had treated for mutations – along with various lunars, even a surly Scale Tooth in pony form, sat and observed as Elder Five Horns shapeshifted a hoof into a clawed hand, dipping a very long claw into a clay jar of glowing moonsilver ink: “Last Shimmer. Your training is complete, is this true?”

Shimmer, sitting in front of Elder Horns, bowed her head: “Yes, Elder Horns”

“Good. Now, to those present, those who have witnessed and overseen her training, has her mettle been tested?” the elder asked out.

There was a brief murmur among the ponies present, after which another lunar spoke up: “Last Shimmer exalted during a changeling raid, slaying dozens and even fending off a changeling noble with no real training or combat experience. I first caught up with that attack once she had routed them”

Elder Horns nodded, using her claws to trace the swirling patterns of moonsilver into Shimmer’s coat: “What of her succor?”

Speaker briefly wondered exactly what was meant by that strange and archaic term, but that was when Sage of Depths spoke up: “Last Shimmer agreed to a complicated and debilitating oath, as part of my training to her. She was not allowed to speak any words of a common tongue under any condition until released from the oath, and she impressed me by never once failing to uphold her promise. Similarly, while still under that oath, she even managed to impress her solar mate”

Tracing more strange tattoo scribbles onto Shimmer’s hide, Elder Horns nodded as she asked once more: “Good good, a trustworthy lunar will always make a good name for herself. Now, her glory was without a doubt tested during the changeling attack – but has that been tested additionally?”

Once more Speaker had to wonder exactly what was meant by that term, but here Scale Tooth spoke up in a solemn tone: “She faced me down, even when I challenged her solar mate for his right to be here – I used my most potent charms of intimidation, but she didn’t even flinch, buying her mate time to figure out a clever way to defeat me”

“Clever – a pony who both thinks before she acts and thinks ahead. What of her cunning?” Elder Horns said, running both sets of silvery hoof-claws over Shimmer’s hide to impart more tattoos.

Speaker saw how Shimmer shivered, how her teeth were gritted – he figured that the tattoo process probably hurt quite a lot, especially when done with such crude implements. At least he didn’t need to think too deeply about what cunning meant.

Sage of the Depths told of a story where he had challenged Shimmer to throw a fleet of realm slave ships off course, where she had used her charms to swim up under them and alter the shape of their rudders every night, making it impossible for them to navigate or even stay in formation, allowing them to be picked off one by one, their cargo freed: “They never saw her, heard her, nor suspected of what she did. They all thought it was the evil winds of a storm mother, making them throw many expensive offerings over board in vain, all of which we netted and used to fund worth causes”

Elder Horns smiled: “A clever little trick – well done. Finally, what of her wisdom?”

Here Sage of Depths spoke of how well Shimmer had taken to sorcery, how she had banished six swimming demons holding up a Lintha barge, and how she had taken to the elder tongue, reading sunken scripture on the bottom of the sea. Speaker didn’t get the context for this, but this somehow elicited gasps from some of the other lunars. Even Elder Horns looked up, appearing impressed: “She took on six of the ‘sour swimmers’ at once with a banishment ritual? Oh, that does it… Shimmer joins the no-moon caste once more!”

The lunars present cheered as Elder Horns traced the last bits of tattoo onto Shimmer, after which she made a series of strange arcane gestures that Speaker recognized as the old realm mudras for truth, duty and creation. The mudras manifested as moonlight glyphs which swirled around Shimmer and then seeped into her tattoos, which shifted and changed. Speaker couldn’t recognize any old realm symbols revealing themselves in the tattoos, but it did make him wonder if one could read the tattoos somehow.

“Now arise Last Shimmer, chosen of Luna of the No Moon caste! Protect creation and bring honor to the silver pact!” Elder Horns pronounced, Shimmer’s anima erupting in a beautiful silvery crashing of waves and a swirl of glowing white feathers.