The Best of All Possible Worlds
Chapter 39
From the ground beside Voltaire came the sound of quiet weeping.
“I told you not to look,” the human whispered with a sigh to Blueblood.
He winced as a wave of prickles washed their way across his legs. Voltaire flexed his toes experimentally, before carefully rising to his feet.
“There’s nothing to worry about now,” he told the unicorn. “The goddess will put everything back the way it was.”
“I don’t want to remember any of this,” Blueblood moaned, looking out at nothing. “I just want a daughter who thinks that schoolyard bullying is the sum total of pony depravity.”
“I think we can arrange that,” said Voltaire. “Are you going to be alright? I’m going to take a little walk to see what’s what.” He looked around himself, his mind wandering.
“I will never be alright again for the rest of my life,” Blueblood announced morosely.
“Have fun, then,” Voltaire replied as he wandered off, having obviously not heard the unicorn’s reply.
~ ~ ~
Voltaire’s first stop was the prone body of Algarotti, who was clutching his shin.
“Does it hurt?” Voltaire asked, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
The Italian presented his other leg. “Want to make it a matched set?” he asked sarcastically.
“Oh that won’t be necessary,” Voltaire said with a predatory grin. “After all, I have before me the prospect of the rest of your life. A life of cowardice and failure. Just like your life before we met, if I remember correctly, only this time there will be that nagging feeling at the back of your head. A memory that simply cannot be recalled. A conviction...that once upon a time you were Archibishop of Canterlot, and you utterly botched up the opportunity. What was in that bullet, anyway, that made you think it would have done anything to Her?”
“Silver.”
“Silver?” Voltaire asked with a laugh. “As in, a silver bullet? What are you, a peasant? Did you also have it blessed by the local priest and carried through the village square on a velvet pillow?”
Algarotti turned his head away and refused to say any more.
Voltaire glanced around himself, and saw the pistol. He knew at a glance that it could not have held more than one bullet, but just to be safe, he kicked it away, with all of the violence he would have inflicted on his fellow human’s shin if he wasn’t currently making a point about being the better man. The pistol bounced off the outer wall of the cathedral before coming back and caroming off of the side of the thing that once was Blue Belle. It looked like it hurt.
“Heee-heee!” the thing predictably chortled.
Voltaire turned away with a shudder.
~ ~ ~
Voltaire’s eyes sought out Genevieve, who was currently standing in front of the human girl from earlier. She was utterly frozen in place, paralysis being her apparent defense mechanism against having to accept the scene she had just witnessed. The tip of an all-too familiar pencil peeked out of a tunic pocket.
The philosopher could have sworn that he had seen that girl somewhere before, but could not place her. Then again, he was never all that fond of children. What good were they, anyway? he thought morosely. They don’t get any of your sophisticated jokes, and they blindly defer to authority. And look what that child donkey disguised as an adult has done to this wonderful world. No, I’ll never trust children, unlike Émilie, who was always going on about them: her grown ones that she had so many regrets over, the neighbor’s, Rossignol’s, the ones she might contemplate having with me before my moods drove her into the arms of one willing to give her what she wanted: a botched pregnancy leading to a botched delivery that led to her...
No, he stopped himself suddenly. Not going to think about it.
“Sixteen,” Genevieve said absently, tapping the girl lightly on the head and then turning her so she couldn’t see Blue Belle.
“Wh...where am I?” the girl asked Genevieve softly. “And who are you?”
Genevieve frowned. “I am Genevieve, Jenny,” she said. “And I think I took away a few too many memories this time.”
~ ~ ~
Voltaire walked up to the colt whose whistle had saved Genevive’s life. “I know you from somewhere,” he mused. “Don’t tell me, I’ll remember it in a minute.”
The colt looked at him incredulously.
“Oh I know! You’re the kid that robbed me that one time!”
The colt’s look turned to utter confusion. “Look, mister, I swear to...” he looked for a second at Genevieve, and then spat at the ground. “I swear to whatever trustworthy deity exists, that I have never seen you in my entire life.”
“Yes, you’re definitely that pickpocket,” Voltaire said, nodding. “And those light hooves must have carried over to this life as well, seeing how you managed to steal yourself some very un-unicorn-looking magic with your disappearing act.”
“That was...” The colt gestured around, but found that Celestia was nowhere to be seen. “The pegasus with the wavy hair. Ask her who she stole that spell from.”
Voltaire leaned forward and stared at the colt intently, causing him to start backing away.
“What are you doing now?” he asked the human.
“Memorizing your features. I’ve got the feeling that Blue Belle is going to want to track you down when everything’s back to normal. She appears to have picked up the habit of collecting interesting ponies.”
“You’re insane!” the pony exclaimed. “And you could have just asked me my name instead: Cut String.”
Voltaire laughed out loud. “You call me insane, and then give me your name so I can track you down? No, it most certainly is every last pony in Equestria that’s insane.”
Cut String rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say,” he said sarcastically. “Can I go now?”
“Well I’m not keeping you,” Voltaire replied, as he turned to walk away. “And Genevieve looks distracted, so now looks like as good a time as any.”
“Hmm...” Voltaire heard Cut String mutter to himself as he walked away. “I wonder if I can snag the human’s pencil...”
Voltaire froze in place for a moment in shock. Not going to think about it! he finally concluded mentally, and continued his search for Celestia.
~ ~ ~
He finally found her on the other side of the cathedral, throwing up into an open sewer.
It seemed entirely appropriate to Voltaire that an open sewer was located right behind the Cathedral of the Sacred Steed.
He waited until the alicorn was as clean as she was going to get before advancing and resting one hand on her withers. “Are you going to be alright?” he asked gently.
“I have to be alright,” she said, without a trace of emotion.
“Look, they’re all kind of waiting for you back there...” Voltaire said nervously, looking back around the side of the building at the city square.
“Yes, yes,” Celestia said, gathering herself. “Just a simple matter of walking a goddess through restructuring reality. Like I said, I’ve done this before.”
“And then what?” Voltaire asked.
Celestia sighed. “And then I have her restore everypony’s memories back to the way they were before. All but my own. There has to be at least one who has learned something from this whole mess.”
Voltaire nodded absently, but then suddenly caught himself. “Wait, why everybody but you? Are you saying that after everything she’s gone through, you’re going to revert Genevieve into becoming the same donkey she was when she fell out of Equestria? You’re going to negate an entire lifetime of experiences?”
“No,” Celestia said wearily, “She’s going to do it, at Her own insistence, with the negation of Her godhood as the last part of the spell. That’s how these things always work out.”
“And the others?”
“You saw the others, Voltaire. Do you think any of them want to remember this world?”
“I’ll remember,” Voltaire said quietly. “In fact I insist on it.”
“You?” the alicorn asked in wonder. “What possible reason would you have to retain your memories of...this?” She swept a hoof to encompass the world around her with that last word.
“So you won’t be alone,” Voltaire replied.
“Oh, Voltaire,” Celestia said sweetly, “you don’t have to do that.”
“Recall the part of my conversation where I said that I would insist on it,” Voltaire said wryly, “and then pretend that I said that now instead of then. I mean, Blue Belle back there is nothing on human depravity—I witnessed worse the last time my personal chef asked for a raise!” The haunted look in his eyes betrayed the veracity of that statement. Voltaire got serious, adding, “You’ve got to have someone to help you through this.”
“Me?” Celestia said with a raised eyebrow. “I believe I mentioned once or twice that I did something like this before, and the majority of the time, it’s me and me alone doing the confronting. Granted, I was channeling you this time.”
This took Voltaire aback. “Wait—me?”
“Yes, you. You have a very distinct way of looking at the world, I’ve observed. Pessimistic about how things will eventually turn out, but nevertheless optimistic from moment to moment. It was your piercing intellect, your merciless summation, that I was calling upon when confronting Genevieve.”
“Well!” Voltaire exclaimed, at a loss for words.
This anomalous state of affairs did not last very long.
“I don’t think that I’m quite that bad!” he finally exclaimed. “You were utterly merciless!”
“She was a god, Voltaire,” Celestia said with the hint of a smile. “If you treat me, a mere princess, as badly as you do, surely a goddess must rate a couple extra measures of scorn!”
“Well...” Voltaire said, pretending to think about it, “...maybe a couple.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Must you always resort to humor when facing the worst this world throws at you?”
“Yes,” she said, dead serious. “Always.” And then she chuckled, unable to hold back her amusement at hearing an objection like that from him of all people.
“I’m serious!” Voltaire exclaimed. “I mean....” He gestured wildly around him. “How...how can you possibly bear to go through with all of this?” he asked incredulously.
“Because I must,” Celestia answered simply.
“No, it’s not that easy!” Voltaire insisted. “You and the sewer here are proof of that.”
Celestia glanced at the open hole at her hooves and decided to finally be serious. “That was my response to seeing something horrific happen to one of my advisers,” she said.
“And nothing else?”
“And what else?”
“I don’t know about you,” Voltaire said, “but I saw the utter failure of pony character. Not a one of them stood up to that tyrant before you!”
“You forget the Resistance.”
“The Resistance was a joke! They just stood and watched like the rest of them.”
“Then perhaps you’ll note the significance of that inaction,” said Celestia. “None of them actually stepped forward and defended Her. Commented on Her actions, yes, but there is a world of difference between that and actually lifting a hoof in support of evil.” She fixed the human with an authoritative stare. “So my ponies are weak. So are humans. So am I. Alone, every one of us can be coerced into doing terrible things, or standing by while evil triumphs. But we are a herd, and a herd stands together. We strengthen ourselves as a group, and compensate for each other’s weaknesses. It pains me that it isn’t true on Earth, but on Equestria, what you call ‘tired bromides’ are by and large literally true. Love can conquer all, knowledge is power, and friendship is magic. No matter how often I might be tempted to lose faith in my own kind—or in myself—I am always brought face to face with our essential goodness and capacity to do great things.”
Voltaire took this all in silently, looking guiltily at one shoe as he pawed the ground. He realized that his dark thoughts about children and ponies earlier were simply excuses, ways to distance himself from the horrors he had just witnessed. “Oh, I am a firm believer in the second maxim you quoted,” he said finally, “but I guess I know what you mean about ponies surprising you. Like Hoofdini, or Cut String.”
“And who is Cut String?” Celestia asked.
“The pony you applied that disappearing magic on. The one who saved Genevieve.”
“Is that his name?” Celestia asked with an arched brow. “Hmm...I wonder how I could fit him into the chart? Loyalty? Or possibly Magic?”
Voltaire threw up his hands. “That’s it, I’m done here!” he exclaimed facetiously. “And don’t for a minute think that we’re even over that whole ‘killing’ fiasco! I threw up at least three more times than you.”
“Well somebody didn’t have the presence of mind like I did to skip a meal before facing down a ruler of Equestria!” Celestia replied with a smirk, already on her way back to the square.
The sounds of things, Celestial is assembling her elements at the end, and mentions magic. But magic doesn't actually become an official element until Twilight comes along, right?
By the way, first.
What's this? Three chapters in one week? You spoil me so. Although I get the feeling you're wrapping things up now. It's been a fun ride.
Things seem to have turned out surprisingly well...
I don't trust it.
Look in favorites updates to see three new BoAPW updates. I just came.
2164396 no, just that records of it were lost
2164396
I'm guessing the sixth element was only lost to the general public, and remained known as a state secret.
Most important lesson I learned from this chapter:
Never face down a ruler of Equestria on a full stomach.
2164396
She's working on geneologies
It was hinted at earlier on that Voltaire might have given Celestia the Idea to breed Element bearers, by manipulating family lines.
wait a sec..... well shoot I just lost a bet with my Starswirl theory, now the question is as to whether or not that is Twilights fathers ancestor (would make sense somewhat, or rainbows less but still plausible.)
Also loved that last line.
I couldn't help but laugh at that part.
I am suspicious as to why you are updating like a madman.
static2.fjcdn.com/comments/I+m+watching+you+dog...+im...+watching..+you+_5f27f40ad0fa60ff583395ebd640b87c.png
The punches keep right on coming with the climax. Just read through the last three chapters and it has been a ride. Little hard to say anyone was a winner out of this one. At least we got plenty of classic Voltaire.
At least I know not to go up against super powered rulers on a full stomach. This is an important lesson.
Wonderful chapter. I think the end is in sight, and it has been a fun ride.
Note on the pistol: In Voltaire's day a multi shot weapon had multiple barrels. He would know at a glance if the gun could be fired again.
Oh, Celestia. Scheming for so long, she couldn't stop if she wanted to.
Welp, time for the Suzumiyan god-donkey to refurbish reality. Poor Equestrian spacetime. You go through so much. Truly a thankless job, acting as the firmament of that reality.
2166121
I made a small change to keep me from looking dumb.
2164450
Agreed. I'll enjoy what I can, but always be prepared for the worse to come.
2164396
The element of Magic is just unknown, according to the reference guide the Mane Six read. But Celestia actually used all six against NMM, so of course she would know what it was called.
2171809
Chapter 25 ended with Algarotti manipulating the already cruel queen Genevieve into turning herself into the even crueler goddess Genevieve.
2164450 You're correct, things have been going to well. Has anyone seen Murphy recently? I've lost him and that worries me.
2164450 2176030
I think you guys are just looking for good excuses to keep me from ending this story.
So, got any good excuses to keep me from ending this story?
2176123 As much as I wish differently no I do not. Which is sad because I found this story like two days ago. I would've caught up faster except I had to sleep and work in between reading. Stupid life getting in the way of a good story.
2176123
Can't see any myself, but all good things...
Otherwise what is the point of starting anything?
2176123
Algarotti is CLEARLY some kind of alien monster, and any moment now he's going to shed his skin to reveal his final form, forcing our intrepid hero Voltaire to pick up the god-slaying gun and journey with Celestia in a grand odyssey to craft another bullet capable of slaying Algarotti, Conqueror of the Stars, and in the REAL climax, take the fight for Equestria into outer space.
I mean, duh. You didn't really think that not a single one of us picked up on all the hints you've been dropping, did you?
(Sorry for spoiling the ending for everyone BTW.)
2178129
Hmm...well that would be especially interesting considering that Voltaire's book Micromegas, one of the first science fiction stories ever written and the reason why he was committed to the nuthatch in the first place, includes aliens that are 20,000 feet tall... Imagine Edgar's unskinning scene from Men in Black, and up that just a tad.
Yeah, not gonna do it.
“as”
Wow, finally caught up! That was a hell of a ride, and a seriously fun archive binge. Looks like I showed up just in time for the closing number too. Looking forward to it!
2180572
And...fixed.
2170416
Actually, according to this universe's canon, she used TWO elements. Light and Dark.
It was earlier mentioned that the elements were originally two, Light and Dark. Wielded by Celestia and Luna, respectively, to defeat Discord. It was during the Nightmare Moon incident that Celestia attempted to use the two elements alone and without love to fuel them, this caused them to fragment into five identical grey stones.
Or so this story proclaims.
Edit: Wait, disregard earlier whining. Whether or not Celestia knew what the elements broke into wasn't specified so no contradictions about that were made. It did specify the names in the Elements of Harmony book, circa episode one, so it's probably safe to say she knew what they became.
2344237
Actually, the new elements took the forms they took as a specific rebuke to Celestia—she failed to save Luna because she was lacking in loyalty, honesty, laughter, kindness and generosity towards her sister. "Magic" in this story is sort of like "Hope" in the myth of Pandora's Box: the consolation prize given to the loser.
Major turn-off. I am disappoint. There are so many ways you've messed this story up...
Oh well. Was good while it lasted.
The chart... Is that like an official character in the story? Cause it's the worst of all of 'em... Awk, what I wouldn't give to be as thick skinned as Celestia...