A Story of Freytara

The Hunger was present, but barely so. Over the course of the past couple of weeks, I have noticed that the more normal things I do, the less noticeable the effects of my time in Tartarus have been. For instance, the more I take in normal, everyday food, like baked goods and fruits and veggies, the more the human side of me emerges. I haven’t tried any cooked meat yet, but I don’t really know if I want to risk anything.

It had been a week since my coronation as Sovereign of Freytara, and if I had known what the Sovereign was to do, I probably would have given it more thought before accepting the crown, scepter... and the paperwork that entails being the Sovereign. I had no idea of the amount of work I was to do in order to grow Freytara’s capabilities and infrastructure to that of Equestrian levels. There was much to do, even for something as relatively simple as making roads.

Order some cobblestone for paving the roads... import cobblestone where it’s not as readily available... contract some workers, and make sure they get paid, hire some overseers to ensure that work got done, ensure that the overseers also paved the road, order some clay and limestone to bind the road together... explain what and how you use concrete to great effect... pay for damages to concrete equipment... hire some Equestrian experts... hire more mapmakers.... The list of things to do goes on, and on.

I’m sure I could have ordered some underling of mine to do the work himself, but that would mean I would have nothing to do but brood on my... condition.

I haven’t forgotten that cryptic warning I was given by the Equestrian princesses that my condition may, in fact, be terminal and that I may have no choice but to throw myself into a fire. The image of myself burning up crosses my mind, and I visibly flinch. Such a fate would not be pleasant, nor would it be a good way to die. Yet... that was still preferable to the inevitable. I flex my right hand into a fist and then uncurled my hand to look at my palm. Even now, I look relatively normal, but I still see some signs of the ink-black blood that still courses through my veins, and I still look mildly pale. Even the maids of the palace had noticed and had done everything in their power and knowledge to help me, even if they, too, thought that their efforts would be in vain.

I sigh. There would have to be a delay in the work to make Freytara a rising power. This Spectral Host thing has to be resolved... one way or another. I get up from my desk and observe the study room I found myself in. The shelves were sparsely populated with books, and the light of the dying day could be seen through a dome in the ceiling, and through windows that flanked my desk. I looked to the door on the far side, which is itself flanked by the Griffonia colors of the former Kingdom of the Griffons. I had no idea what my heraldry might look like, but that admittedly was a minor concern of mine.

Now, I had to go find Foxhale and ask him to introduce me to the local experts in magic. If there was a cure, perhaps they would know. Failing that, I could even turn back to Equestria for help with this. A faint smile sits atop my face. I could make it out of this pickle after all.

In the Royal Planning Room, I sat opposite of the long table from Foxhale. The table itself was decorated with appropriate accouterments and gleaming candlesticks. Between us, sat the various advisors of Freytara, comprising of all the races that dwelled therein. It surprised even me that there was a Zebra present. I will have to learn his name after this meeting. I had called this gathering to learn of the capacity of whatever Magical Council Freytara was sure to have, and what it could do to render aid to me and my condition.

“No.” was all Foxhale said.

That simple response caused me to then disappointedly ask, “No?” I saw many faces around the table visibly flinch at the revelation, and Foxhale did a fine job of masking his own fear of rejecting my wishes. Foxhale then nodded, and said, “We simply do not have what you require here at Freytara, my Sovereign. No such Freytaran Magical Council exists, and we certainly do not have even the facilities to house any such experts, if we had any.”

Making a mental note to add “Magic Academy” on my to-do list, I sighed. This would have been so much simpler had we had the capacity to conduct research in our own homes. Of course, we could go to Equestria, but then we would have to be negotiating from a position of relative weakness. Of course, I didn’t think Celestia to be one to take advantage of such a fact, but it still would pain the higher-ups in Freytara to appear weak before anyone, and especially before the Equestrians.

I then asked, “You do know what this very well means, don’t you?” Nodding, Foxhale and the other councilmembers all but conceded unanimously to my rhetorical question. “This means we’ll have to go to the Equestrians.” I continued. To my surprise, many of the members of the table adopted sour looks upon the mention of the Equestrians. Even the three pony race representatives at the table seemed to darken, much to my surprise.

This, I would have to investigate. Another item for the to-do list later, and I had to find a way to conclude this meeting without having it end on such a mood-altering note. I would have to set these members of the council to work, even Foxhale, while I journeyed back to Equestria, and to hopefully find a cure. Recalling my earlier planning, I hunched over to retrieve something from my bag. A stack of papers, with my signatures on them. I announced,

“I will away to the Equestrians, then. I do not know how long I will be away, so expect me to be back on the eve or sooner of the Freytaran Summit. In the meantime...”

I took the stack of papers and tapped them on the table. Handing it off to Bronze Hoof, I continued, “I hope you can keep busy. Thank you, my subjects. This meeting is adjourned.”

As the various members of that meeting departed, I looked to Foxhale, who didn’t get up from his seat. Obviously, he would speak with me alone. Nodding, I granted his request in silence. Nobody else in the room seemed to notice as the various members filed out one-by-one. As the double-doors to the room closed, Foxhale cleared his throat.

“My Sovereign... I would not dare to defy your wishes, but do you think this wise?”

Ah. That was his intent. To keep me honest, or to expose my deceit, I suppose. There would be a few theories about my loyalties to Celestia, no doubt. I answered him, “Yes. Unless we find a way to neutralize this Spectral host, I will be lost to the darkness in due time. This seems to be the only way unless you want to try your luck with whatever shady elements you can find?”

That seemed to rustle his feathers. His white-gold feathers on his neck stood up, and his golden eyes widened as if I could gaze into his soul and interpret his sins. After a moment of my non-action, he settled down. After a moment, he sighed deeply. “Of course, my Sovereign. I will trust your judgment here. As for the... suggestion, I will take it into consideration.”

Looking down at the table, and scratching my hair, I then said, “I guess that means we’re done here.”

As the King-turned-Duke passed my chair to leave, I grabbed his left foreleg with my left hand. He turned to me, and we gauged each other. At a loss of words, I simply complimented him, saying, “You’re doing a good job, Foxhale. This means a lot to me.”

He nodded wordlessly and made to leave. As he departed, I was left alone with my thoughts...

as well as my demons.

“Sire, I think you’ll like this.”

Looking up at the comically blue sky, I could see that I do, indeed, like this.

It was a magnificent sight. Above, the oval, silver balloon stretched and heaved as it carried the boat beneath. I questioned the design choice of making the gondola resemble a sea-faring ship and then supposed that the wooden gondola being built like a boat would enable the airship to land on the sea, albeit, I suppose, at a calm tide. Otherwise, we would simply ride above any storm that would threaten to tear the balloon away from the gondola. It was obviously of Equestrian design, with many embellishments and, quite frankly, toyetic design, but it had a few Freytaran twists, with brass and bronze replacing much of the gold and gems that the ship was obviously previously decorated with.

The airship crewmember (Would that make her an Airman-- err... Airmare?) gestured to the flying piece of wonder and cried out, “It’s the first of her kind, Sire! We’ve taken to calling it the Praetor! Pretty cool, huh?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the choice of naming and the way that the pony presented it to me. She seemed nice enough, and, as the vessel loomed ever nearer, she would boast of the airship’s capabilities and the tedious degree to which the craft was meticulously cared for and loved as if it were a noble lady, which, I should admit, wouldn’t be too far off from the actual beauty of the Praetor. As the gondola reached the green cliff we stood near the edge of, a gangplank was first lifted, then summarily dropped onto the edge of the cliff. The cream colored and brunette pegasus then seemed to switch personalities completely, as she donned an Air Marshal’s tricorne.

Gone was the jovial mare who liked to wear stripes of blue and white in the seaman tradition. Here was a Commander. I have to give it to Pearlbiter, she knew how to swear like a sailor. The almost cowering crew rushed to redo any loose knots or jig up the spare mast, or otherwise tend to the ship, making sure every spot was shining. As I neared the main deck of the ship, Pearlbiter 180’d again, and sweetly said to me, “I’ll get someone now to lead you to your quarters, my Lord.”

Then she flipped her mood again and turned to an unfortunate colt of night colors. “Hey! Show him to his quarter, Yeoman!” she coarsely yelled. Rushing to please his Captain, the Yeoman (Yeocolt? Yeopony?) snapped a hasty salute and rushed off to the lower decks before rushing back to the main deck in a state of panic, and saluted again before muttering, “This-This-This way, your Highness.”

Making sure to slow down this time, the Yeoman led me to the aft cabin, which was decorated every way from Sunday, almost an exact image of the room I have in the castle. I knew that I was the leader of this modest nation, but I was honestly beginning to feel spoiled. I slipped the unfortunate yeomen a few gold coins and dismissed him. The guy must have had a lot of grief from the captain, as does the rest of the crewmen. I suppose it’s all part of the job.

It felt weird to unpack my things into this dresser, as it was a mirror image of the dresser that I had just packed my things out of. I suppose it was just a temporary transition. Something to get used to. I chuckled as I sorted my things. It may have been a relatively minor problem, to be sure. I sarcastically said, “Oh, geez! The dresser looks exactly like the one I have back at home! Now I don’t know what to do!”

With a full-bellied laugh, I took considerable comfort that this was the problem of the day that I was facing, and not the fact that I could turn into a demon.