On Redemption

by PKAnon

2 - Heliochrome

The heat of the grill in tandem with the hot summer sun looked to bake Anon alive, even in the generous shade of the tent.

He picked up a towel lying on a nearby lawn chair as he checked the second of three grills, dabbing his forehead lightly before he opened the lid. A light haze of smoke billowed out, filtering through numerous slits in the roof above; he inwardly thanked Mayor Mare for her generosity in terms of tent quality. He grabbed a spatula and turned the patties over, adherent to the time constraint he had set to obtain the most thorough cooking job.

With the batch on its latter half of the process, he set about manning the counter as a wayward family stopped by to see what all the fuss was about.

“What’s all this?” the stallion of the house asked, eyeing the cluster of finished burgers sitting out on the vendor table with a curious smile.

Anon put on the friendliest face he could muster as he gestured to the fruit of his labor.

“Veggie burgers! About as close as you can get to the delicacy from my home without any meat.”

His wife’s eyebrows shot up, her attention now thoroughly affixed to them as well.

“They smell wonderful! What are they made with?” she asked.

“It’s a black bean base, believe it or not. The recipe is a family secret, but it’s one hundred percent vegetarian.”

Anon swept his gaze over the few remaining plates on the table. The burgers had actually sold somewhat well, which was a pleasant surprise. He wasn’t sure whether or not ponies would take to an imitation dish, simply based on cultural reasons. The closer he got to the day of the festival, the more he genuinely expected to take a fair bit of it home as leftovers.

In reality, he had just barely been able to keep pace with how many ponies had meandered over to his humble counter. It wasn’t a whole lot, given that he was the only one in the tent actively cooking, but seeing people genuinely enjoy his dishes helped bring some authenticity to his servicing smile.

Of course, it was mostly the bits that helped that out, but he would never openly admit that. Thanks to that, though…

“If you wanna try one, you can,” Anon offered. “First one’s on the house.”

“Oh, no, we’d be more than happy to pay,” the stallion said.

Anon waved his objections off and scooted a plate toward the trio.

“I insist. Consider it a Summer Sun Celebration special.”

The mare’s face lit up with surprise as she looked back and forth between her husband and child.

“What do you think?” she asked, zeroing in on the beaming colt. “Do you wanna try some, Haze?”

He enthusiastically nodded his head, almost toppling himself over. The corners of Anon’s smile crept ever so closer to his ears as he slid one of the plates forward to be received by the stallion’s magic.

“Enjoy, you three. Happy Summer Sun Celebration!”

“You as well!” the stallion and mare said in tandem, walking off with their kid to go join the crowd elsewhere.

Anon’s grin slowly slid off of his face, replaced by a creeping apathy as he watched them leave. He looked down at the vendor table; only four plates left, but the festival was about to reach its apex, so he’d have a bit of a break soon. The patties on the grill would be his leftovers, then, if it all went the same as it had been. With a sigh, he re-organized the finished plates horizontally across the front of the table before heading toward the back of the tent.

From within the ingredient storage area, Anon could hear his resident “helper” cursing to herself. As he proactively lamented the maelstrom he was about to walk in on, he wondered if he could request payment from Twilight for putting up with being what basically amounts to a babysitter. He deftly parted the curtain to the right, bracing himself for the worst.

Chrysalis, for the most part, had been surprisingly amicable when it came to being delegated to her position readying ingredients. Though she had two left hooves when it came to actually doing it, the relative solitude was something she seemed to enjoy, since Anon only ever interacted with her when he needed more toppings or pre-frozen patties. All the better for him.

…Is what he would have thought, had he not walked in on a veritable mess of his remaining onions.

On a perfectly sizable table that spanned the length of the back wall, there sat Chrysalis, hunched over a single hastily-peeled one. Spread across said table, apart from stacks of other toppings here and there, was an ungodly amount of poorly diced sections of the aforementioned vegetable. On the dirt beneath her rested two or three outright failed attempts to even begin to peel the things, one of them smashed entirely.

Anon did his best to quell his overwhelming frustration, the majority of which was released in a heaving sigh.

“…Guess nobody else is having one with onions.”

Chrysalis spun around, indignation dragging the center of her brow downward.

“Perhaps they would, if you incompetent despots would let me use my magic,” she spat.

Anon chuffed, amused at her bargain.

“No sell. Earth ponies and pegasi get on just fine, and so will you.”

He checked his pocket watch as his assistant glared a hole through his head.

“Besides, the main event is about to start. We can take a break for now, there won’t be anyone coming to the tent until it’s over.”

“A bit odd to offer a reprieve to your nemesis, creature,” Chrysalis jabbed with a contorted grin.

Anon frowned in contempt as he pocketed his timepiece once more.

“You’re not my ‘nemesis,’ you’re just something I need to deal with for another few hours. Do you want a break, or not?”

The onion in her hoof rolled off and thudded against the tabletop, rolling indiscriminately for a moment before it came to a halt next to the unsliced pickles.

“I suppose a reprieve from this dull task would be nice.”

The former queen rose to her hooves with an air of reluctance, despite having sounded like she was quietly fighting for her life naught but five seconds earlier. Anon, inwardly smirking at her unwarranted pride, walked to the opposite end of the room and opened a second cooler, still full of drinks despite the later time of day.

“You don’t eat, but I’m guessing you still need water?”

“So he does possess a brain,” Chrysalis chided. “Or what’s left of one.”

Anon’s eyebrow climbed high, a smirk held fast on his features.

“Hold onto that wit, changeling,” he said, mimicking her disrespect for him. “That's all you have left, now.”

He dug around in the ice chest for a few moments before settling on two bottles of water for now, preemptively opening hers. Not out of kindness, mind you; he simply didn’t feel like being drenched when she inevitably crushed the thing with her unwieldy hooves.

“You mock the loss of my Hive, do you?” she asked, her malicious voice reaching out with curled fingers. “Count yourself lucky that I’m beholden to the whims of that ‘princess’ of yours.”

Anon knew he could draw the exchange out, rib her until she finally lost control and was locked away or turned to stone, but he didn’t. As much as he would’ve loved to have been shriven clean of the tyrant’s insufferable presence, he truly trusted that Twilight saw something in her that he didn’t. Some hidden sign, an omen of who she could be, tucked away in that black heart of hers.

So he relented, as difficult as it was.

“I wouldn’t mock your loss of family, Chrysalis. Just poking fun.”

She said nothing as he handed the bottle over to her, which she took with mild difficulty. From outside, cheers erupted from across the fairgrounds - the ceremony had started.

Anon started making his way out into the vendor area, but looked back as he crossed the threshold.

“You can come sit out here, if you want.”

Chrysalis, mid-swig, regarded him with a simple, subtle nod of her head, beads of water trailing down the sides of her maw from the sudden motion. Not bothering to wait for her, he trod out to the vendor table again, where he took a seat in his plastic chair.

Across the field, what looked like the entire population of Ponyville was out in force, surrounding the stage that Twilight and Mayor Mare had no doubt meticulously planned. In order to allow for a streamlined clean-up after the invasion, Celestia had chosen to postpone the ceremony until later in the day. It wouldn’t have quite the same effect as ushering in the morning, but everyone ate it up nonetheless.

From where his tent had been pitched, he had a clear view of the ceremony platform, laden with a myriad of intricate sun-themed decorations and gifts alike. There, at the apex of the elevated floor, stood Celestia, flanked by a retinue of her guard on each side. The smile she cast out into the crowd was a declaration of unconditional gratitude and warm regards, and as she spread her wings to their full breadth, the crowd roared in praise. For them, it was as if she was an embossment to their world; a divine figure, spreading her good works among the fortunate citizens whom she called her own.

“Fools.”

Anon, ripped from his musings, cast his gaze rightward and found Chrysalis sitting in a chair much like his, eyeing the ceremony with vitriol. She set her water bottle on the table and paced over to where it would all be out of her sight.

“If you all were any more blinded by worship, I might actually feel some modicum of pity for you.”

Anon shuffled in his seat as he watched the crowd undulate, their stamping hooves upon the ground felt even where he rested his feet.

He couldn’t blame them for regarding Celestia the way they did, given all she had done for the world. Shoot, he was a fan of hers, too, after the way she treated him when he first arrived. Some ponies took it way too far, though. Nobody who actually knew her beyond passing words dipped their hooves into that pseudo-religious idolatry, but to many, she was the very reason that the day existed at all. Mothers would tell their children stories of how their very civilization came to be at the siblings’ behest - stories that had been told thousands of times over, winding back through countless lifetimes. Anon supposed that the only reason Celestianism hadn’t taken off was because she was still around to stop it from happening.

“Are they wrong to see comfort in her?” Anon quietly asked.

Chrysalis exhaled, irritated.

“They see only what they have been told to see for generations.”

“And what do you see?”

Chrysalis meandered back to the right of Anon, her scathing glare fixed solely on Celestia as the latter delivered her speech.

“An inept figurehead who denied my Hive the life they deserve.”

The guard nearest to her tensed as his expression broke for a split second, resentment radiating from beneath his armor and turning the air thick. Anon, having heard his armor shuffle, sought to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Your hive is alright, though, as far as I can tell. The ones who changed, anyway. Is your criticism of her really borne of caution, or of jealousy?”

“Your very inquiry is borne of ignorance,” she retorted. “How could a creature who has only known this world for a handful of years - as an Equestrian, no less - possibly understand what’s best for the changeling race?”

Anon paused as Celestia began her ascent, a golden glow illuminating her as she crested toward the clouds.

“I can’t.”

“Hm,” she grunted. “As I thought.”

But even so, it wasn’t difficult to see just how much a changeling’s quality of life improved when they had finally decided to give love freely.

Higher still, she climbed; the clouds gave way, a wide berth in her wake so that all below could bear witness.

“And you?” Chrysalis asked. “What do you see when you look at her?”

Anon continued tracking Celestia’s flight.

Finally, in what looked to be the very heavens themselves, she slowed, circling the sun once, twice, three times. Her silhouette danced across its visage, each minute movement a carefree waltz.

She was having fun.

A sudden downturn drove her below the sun, but she swung it around until it put her directly into the path of the heavenly star. Her speed increased, driving her forward.

Higher.

Higher, until -

In one perfect flourish, she took her destined place in front of the light of day, and it refracted off of her, showering the mortals below with radiant benevolence.

The immense crowd erupts into unrestrained cheers, joy aplenty. Anon squinted, lest his eyes burn out of their sockets.

“Just a mare, I think,” he finally answered. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Chrysalis eyed him up and down, her anger having given way for bewilderment. Anon met her wavering gaze with stone-faced conviction, assured in his disastrously straightforward analysis of the ruler’s character. She tutted, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground as she traipsed back over toward the grills.

“How presumptuous.”

A silence took hold of the tent for some time as Celestia slowly descended from her otherworldly perch. As she rejoined the crowd below, Anon felt something tugging at him, though what, he wasn’t sure.

Before he could dive into introspection, though, a nasally, posh Canterlot accent forcefully ripped him into the present.

“Good sir?”

Anon, a look of surprise on his face, set his eyes upon the stallion that had called out to him.

The sunglasses resting upon his snout were circular, with deep blue lenses that appeared almost completely opaque. His mane was neatly kept in gray, flowing curls, lined along his neck and spilling ever so slightly to the sides. The light, cream-shaded coat of fur covering his body was well-cared for, evident in the subtly wavy patterns and striations of fur on his chest. The cutie mark resting on his backside, nearly covered up by his wings, was that of an unfurled scroll in a state of tabula rasa.

Anon hadn’t seen the stallion yet. Perhaps he was just a late arrival who forgot to eat beforehand?

‘That’s odd, especially if he’s one of those upper-crust types,’ Anon thought.

“How can I help you?” he asked, his customer service face at the ready.

Not a moment after the sentence fell from his mouth, he realized that Chrysalis was still in the front area of the tent. If he saw her, and word got around, there goes the rest of his bits for the day - after all, who would want to buy food that she had touched?

Luckily, from where the stallion was standing, it seemed as if he couldn’t see her.

“My veggie burger was a bit undercooked,” the stallion continued. “And as a result, I’ve unfortunately come down with a hefty stomach ache. As such, I’d appreciate a refund.”

Anon inwardly heaved an unsteady breath, and cursed whatever force bade him suffer.

It was going to be one of those.

It seemed as though hustlers were a universal constant, no matter the reality. Thankfully, they’re painfully obvious in Equestria.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Anon began as he pointed to the marker board resting on the table. “As per the sign, if you can’t procure proof of purchase via a receipt, then a refund isn’t possible.”

The stallion’s neutral expression sank into irritation.

“I accidentally threw it away, along with the plate. Do I really need a piece of paper to be refunded for my continued pain? My word should be more than enough.”

“You do,” Anon reaffirmed. “The sign notating as such has been out here since I set up. Surely you saw it when you purchased the burger?”

“Well…” the stallion stammered. “It wasn’t out when I was here!”

“That’s plainly untrue, sir. You can ask the neighboring vendors, and they’ll all answer to the contrary.”

“So, what, then?” the stallion huffed, his frustration deepening. “You’d have me dig through trash to retrieve the blasted thing, is that it?”

“I wasn’t suggesting that,” Anon replied, steadfast. “My only assertion is that, without the receipt, I can’t start the refund process.”

Anon’s hopes of a peaceful resolution were dashed when the stallion all but tore the sunglasses off of his face, revealing two irrationally jaded eyes ripping him apart.

“Well, you have some nerve, sir!” he began, trying his best to be imposing as he strutted up to the counter. “How dare you swindle me out of my hard-earned bits?”

His raised voice carried easily, and though the dispersing crowd in the distance was largely preoccupied, heads were starting to turn. Anon, doing his best to stay level, reinforced his policy once more.

“Like I said, sir, if you don’t have a receipt, then I can’t help you. It’s a protective measure for the business.”

“‘Protective measure’ my flank! You’re scamming innocent ponies out of their bits with meals that turn their stomachs sour!”

“Sir,” Anon replied, tongue drenched in seething exasperation as he raised his own volume. “I have timed every single batch of my burgers to the letter, and pre-formed the patties so as to ensure that the black bean mix is evenly and completely cooked. Unless you can provide the receipt and burger as evidence to support your claims, then I cannot help you.”

He leaned down toward the belligerent pegasus, slowing his speech to a crawling murmur.

“You don’t wanna do this. Not over a burger that cost you three bits.”

The stallion faltered for a moment before doubling down, stamping his hoof firmly into the growing as he blew at Anon through his nose.

“Of course I do, you freak!” he continued, the insult having done nothing to help Anon’s oncoming fit. “If I don’t have my bits back in the next minute, so help me, I swear I’ll have my legal-”

“Be silent and leave my presence, you swollen-headed hatchling!”

Chrysalis’s booming shout caught Anon off guard as she dashed into view of the pegasus, whose anger was quickly replaced with bowel-voiding fear. The guards of the tent readied their spears for her to make any sort of move against them, but it never came.

“W-w-wha-”

“Did your Queen stutter?” she interrupted, baring her teeth in the same rage that had terrified the countryside. “Be gone! I tire of your insufferable tantrum.”

With a frenzied point of her hoof elsewhere, the stallion took off in a sprint, stumbling as his hooves trembled with every swing of his legs.

Anon didn’t want to look at the crowd, but he forced himself to. Panicked faces were scattered about, all pointed squarely in his direction. Some ran, some looked around for guards, some even froze in their tracks. At once, Anon felt the icy burn of shame crawl across his cheeks as he shut his eyes, falling back into his chair.

There went the rest of his profits.

“Celestia’s upper peasantry could use a lesson in etiquette,” Chrysalis spat, her fury cooling as she followed the con artist’s every step with her freakishly acute vision. “I’ve no stomach for entitled brats.”

Anon let his head hit the back of the plastic chair. He opened his eyes to the undulating roof of the tent as he chuckled grimly.

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t do it for you, creature,” Chrysalis retorted coolly.

Wordlessly, he stuck his hand in his pocket, wrapping his fingers tightly around Twilight’s coin as he situated it firmly into his palm.

“…I bet you had fun working guys like that over during your invasions.”

To Anon’s surprise, a genuine chuckle found itself bobbing in her throat.

“Oh, you’ve no idea.”

Author's Note:

yeah i'm really flying by the seat of my pants with this one

Comments

[Wooden Wheel]

This line:

The ones who changed, anyway.

Is it referring specifically to Pharynx or what is it implying?

---

Also, I like that little piece about the opinion that two creatures who did not grow up under the banner of Equestria have about Celestia, even if I think the two could have said more than what was presented.

[PKAnon]

11900519
yep, he was specifically referring to Pharynx and the nu-lings after their metamorphosis.
and i'm glad you liked the bit about their outsider viewpoints - i was agonizing over that specific part of their interaction for a day or two to be honest. expect more of that as their relationship develops

[Razzy]

Well, someone's jaded.

But you can't argue with her results at terror alone.

[virtualGlimpse]

Good shit!

[Aiwhisper]

Nice. Like what you got so far.