Batmare Begins - Chapter 8: The Potter's Bounds

Batmare Begins

Chapter 8: The Potter's Bounds

Brilliant.  Absolutely brilliant.  Surpassed all expectations yet again.  They can’t possibly deny her full membership, not now, not after that display.  The meeting should be naught but a mere formality.  After that, we turn our eyes, all of us, together, onto greater things.

A million possibilities ranged through the delighted Aucune’s mind as he trotted almost merrily through the dimly lit corridor.  Night had fallen, and most of the castle’s residents had retired for the night to their chambers and cells.  Besides the clip-clop of Aucune’s hooves, it was quiet as the grave.  The silence might’ve generated uneasiness in most, but not Aucune; after all, this was his home.  On top of that, he was feeling far happier than he had in some time, at least compared to his normal disposition, which generally fluctuated from steely cynicism to sober stoicism.

Hard to believe it’s all coming together, but it is, it truly is.  Life’s certainly thrown its fair share of wrenches my way, but now, for once, everything’s going to be just as it should be.

Slow down, you mustn’t get ahead of yourself, you’re not there yet.  Still, I can’t deny this is a gigantic step.  None can.  The ramifications of what she achieved… I can’t even begin to imagine where her potential ends.  The sky’s simply the limit with her!  Surely they must see that; it’s clear as day to me.

Coming to the end of the corridor, Aucune entered into a small sideroom, shutting the thick door behind him and fastening a latch inside.  On the surface there wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy about the room; to the casual onlooker it was just a tiny, out-of-the-way space.  It was exceptional, however, in that it was built with one purpose in mind: privacy.  It was one of the few rooms in the whole keep with a lock, and there were no other nearby rooms in the vicinity by which nosy parties might listen in on conversations through the walls.  The door itself was four inches thick and made of solid oak, with no cracks or crannies to speak of.  Whatever was spoken here would not be heard outside of this room.

Inside was nothing more than a small, hardwood table, around which sat six of Aucune’s colleagues: Brawny Charger, Fiery Zephyr, Lightning Flicker, Storm Spirit, Charming Masquerade, and-

“And just what do you think you’re doing in my seat, Bitter Sweet?” Aucune sharply asked.

“Don’t you mean Dämons Hengst?” Storm Spirit countered, chuckling to herself.  A few tensed up at her jape, but Aucune didn’t seem bothered by it.

“I just don’t see any point in us carrying on with this ruse in such a private setting.  It’s quite needless, really,” Aucune explained.  He sounded almost jovial, but there was a distinct edge to his voice that did not escape any in the room.  All eyes fixed on him, Aucune strode over to the black unicorn sitting at the head of the table till he was standing directly beside him.

“I assumed Brother Bitter would’ve likewise recognized the needlessness for this charade here,” he continued, staring down at the unicorn as he spoke, eyes narrowed.  “Unless, of course, you’ve been playing this role for so long that you’ve simply forgotten who the real Demon’s Stallion is.”

Finally turning to face his piercing gaze, the older unicorn looked up at Aucune and smiled.

“My apologies, sir.  The appropriate formality must’ve slipped my mind.  You know how old minds get; sometimes it’s as though everything goes over our heads.”  The others chortled halfheartedly and Bitter Sweet tried to get out of his seat, but Aucune abruptly placed a hoof on his shoulder.  Bending down to his level, his face mere inches away from Bitter’s, he whispered,

“Say it to me: who are you?”

Staring back at him with a hard look of his own, the elder slowly answered in a low voice, “I’m Bitter Sweet.”

“And who am I?” Aucune asked.

“You’re Dämons Hengst.”

“Very good.  You may take your seat now.”

Releasing his grip, the true Dämons Hengst remained standing until Bitter Sweet and the rest of his subordinates had shifted and settled into new seats.  After surveying them all for a moment, giving particular attention to Bitter Sweet, he finally sat down at the head of the table.

Presumptuous codger.  You knew exactly what you were doing.  Best keep an eye on that.

Taking note of the tension that now hung in the air, Dämons tried to allay his subordinates’ unease by switching topics.

“How are you faring Brawny?  I hope Miss Hooves didn’t rough you up too much,” he said, chuckling softly.  A few laughed quietly along with him at the ribbing, including Brawny.

“Nah, don’t worry about me sir, I’m fine.  Only thing Derpy hurt was my pride, is all,” Brawny reassured him, though one certainly couldn’t blame Dämons for asking given the former’s appearance.  Two already prominent black and blue bruises protruded beneath each of Brawny’s eyes, and bandages lined his battered, somewhat crooked nose and muzzle; at first glance, one might’ve thought he’d just been waylaid by some wild animal.  Whether he was just downplaying the extent of his injuries, or they were merely superficial and simply looked worse than they were, Dämons could not say with certainty.

“Very good, though rest assured there’s no shame in losing to one such as she,” Dämons said.

“Best watch yourself, though, runt; I gotta work with that lumbering oaf Tiny Taste for a whole month because you couldn’t take down a pony half your size.  You’ll be lucky if I don’t hurt more than your pride after costing me that bet!” Storm Spirit jokingly threatened her former student.

“Aw c’mon Storm, it’s not like he told you to bet on him or anything.  You were practically begging the whole crowd for a wager, we all saw it,” Fiery Zephyr retorted.

“Plus I did advise you against gambling at all in the first place,” Lightning Flicker reminded her.

“What are you, my mother?” Storm asked in mock disbelief.  “Layoff, all of ya, I didn’t say I’m not going to honor my bet; I am a mare of my word.”

“If nothing else,” Charming Masquerade added.  Almost everyone in the room burst into fits of laughter at that, and even Charming cracked a grin at his rare wisecrack.

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Dämons beseeched his colleagues.  “I think we can all agree that Storm here doesn’t always think through her actions as thoroughly as she should.  That said, let’s get down to business.  In light of her success in today’s bout, I’d like for us to review Derpy Hooves’ progress to date since she joined us.  Brother Brawny, if you would, please share your thoughts on Miss Hooves.”

“Derpy?  Well, I’ve liked everything I’ve seen from her, that’s for sure.  She’s a hard worker, consistent in both her perseverance and rate of progression.  No matter what I throw at her in our workouts, she always manages to slog her way through it.  And as for her combat skills, well, I learned firsthoof today just where exactly she’s at in that regard.  All in all, Derpy’s in peak physical form for a pegasus of her age and size, no doubt about that.”

“Speaking of her physical fitness as a fellow pegasus, might I just add that Derpy’s grown into a hell of a flier,” Fiery chimed in.  “She’s not the fastest I’ve ever seen, but she’s got fantastic control and agility.  Perfect for combat and rapid movements both on land and in open air.”

“Duly noted,” Dämons said.  “Has she displayed any problematic ineptitude in her motor skills during her time with you?”

Brawny shook his head.  “Nope, none of the nature that you mentioned she exhibited during Innere Eroberung.  As far as I can tell, Derpy’s got total control over all her physical faculties.”

“Excellent.  I think that about covers her basic physical fitness, so let’s segue from there into her skill in the martial arts.  In the past year, Miss Hooves has undertaken studies in the martial arts of katrote, Krav Pega, and Wing Chun, taught by myself, Fiery Zephyr, and Storm Spirit, respectfully.  She has also studied unconventional warfare and espionage in her ninjutsu studies under the tutelage of Charming Masquerade, but we’ll cover those studies separately.”  Dämons took a sip of water from a nearby cup before he continued, clearing his throat.

“That’s better.  Now to start, I want to thank you all for going along with this little of experiment of mine and maintaining discretion throughout.  To date, Miss Hooves remains unaware of the extraordinary nature of her training regimen, and I’d like to keep it that way, at least for a little while longer.  I know training a student in so many disciplines simultaneously has not been easy for any of you, and struck some of you as foolhardy when I first proposed it, but as I told you before, the scope of her potential was too great to pass this opportunity up, and I believe that now it’s safe to say that our gambit is starting to pay off.  So again, thank you all for your trust and commitment to this course.”

“Since I began tutoring Miss Hooves in katrote, she has progressed in the last year to a level of skill that normally one would not see a student achieve in no less than five years, sometimes as many as ten.  This while simultaneously being tutored in two other martial arts.  Fiery, Storm, what about you?”

“I’d say she’s advanced about the same in her Wing Chun,” Storm divulged.  “I even said as much before the kampfduell today: she’s at least at the same level in that art alone that Brawny was after five years of study and practice, and till now he’s the finest student I’ve ever taught in that art.”

“I’ve seen much the same in our Krav Pega lessons,” Fiery said.  “It bears mentioning too that in recent months I’ve noticed in our sparring sessions that she’s been incorporating all three martial arts together into a hybrid style.  I saw as much in today’s bout as well.  This seems partly natural, partly deliberate; she’s grown so accustomed to all three that she knows how to utilize them together to her advantage.  Putting it mildly, this rate of progression is unprecedented, to say the least.”

“I agree, but we’ll discuss that in greater detail later,” Dämons said.  “Suffice it to say, against all odds and past precedent, Derpy Hooves has mastered three different martial arts in a year.  Charming, what about you: how’ve her ninjutsu studies gone?”

Charming considered the question for a moment in silence before simply answering, “Very well.”  

Dämons rolled his eyes.  “Would you care to expand upon that assessment just a tad, Charming?” he asked.  

“Sure.  She’s a good observer.  Knows how to watch, listen, take in her surroundings, adapt.  Very silent on her hooves, can be quiet in flight when she needs to be.  Has a more than satisfactory grasp of the concepts and principles of ninjutsu.  Her size may be a factor there: she understands the importance of properly applying unconventional tactics to her advantage, given her smaller build.”

“What sorts of weapons does she employ?” Fiery asked suddenly.

“Light ones, any she can easily carry.  Throwing darts and caltrops are two favorites of hers.”

“Figured as much,” Fiery said.  “Early on I tried to train Derpy in a number of more conventional weapons, but that didn’t go so well.  Spears and other staff mounted weapons are a bit awkward for her, I think that has something to do with their size more than their weight.  Hammer hooves are too heavy for her.  We did some basic lessons with wing blades, but that was it.  She’d probably be able to handle hoof-mounted blades and even a custom-built set of wing blades, one which was light enough for her to handle with ease in flight, but she didn’t seem particularly interested in either option.  She almost seemed uncomfortable at the prospect of learning either.  But you say she’s got no trouble at all with those lighter weapons?”

“None,” Charming answered.  “Probably would employ more if she could.  Options are limited, especially seeing as we haven’t even covered magical weapons yet.  She’s aware of objects like enchanted gems and their applications, just hasn’t trained with them.”

“We can worry about that later,” Dämons interjected.  “Charming, is Miss Hooves advanced enough in her ninjutsu studies that she could practice what she’s learned in the field?”

“Yes,” Charming said without pause, then added, “she’d do better than most.”

“High praise from you indeed.  Let’s wrap things up with her intellectual studies.  Sister Lightning, if you’d be so kind, how has the development of Miss Hooves’ mental faculties gone?”

“Oh it’s been splendid,” Lightning began.  “Derpy’s been a wonderful student.  She eats up anything and everything we cover: history, philosophy, literature, you name it.  Whatever mental blocks she had when she first joined us are long gone by now; she has a remarkable capacity for retaining information.  I wouldn’t say she possesses an eidetic memory, she just… she wants to learn.  All the things she couldn’t do before, it’s like her mind and spirit are free for the first time in her life.”

“She loves pushing her limits, really throwing her mind into our studies, and from what I’ve seen, and from what you’ve all said, it sounds like she does the same in all of her other lessons as well.  She’s only going to keep learning more, and it’s not because of her mental faculties, impressive as they are; it’s this drive that she has, this insistent drive that pushes her to keep bettering herself as much as possible.  It’s not ambition, because she’s not doing this for herself, or at least not bettering herself for her own sake.  No, it’s an… an impulse, a fire in her belly to become the best pony she can be for those around her.  When you get right down to it, what Derpy wants most, even more than improving herself, is to help others.  Her head’s not only in the right place, her heart is as well.”

“Fantastic to hear, Lightning.  Really, when you get down to it, what is more important than the heart’s condition my brothers and sisters?  On top of everything we’ve already heard, now we have this: a pony who’s not only a prodigy the likes of which we’ve never encountered, but with a good heart to boot.  She genuinely wants to help others, and we know she has the means to do it.  All we have left to do is enable her.  So I motion here and now that we initiate Derpy Hooves as soon as possible into the-”

“Ahem.”

Startled, Dämons turned to his left where the abrupt interruption had come from, only to find Bitter Sweet staring hard back at him.

“Uh… yes, Brother Bitter?”

“You did not ask my opinion of her,” he pointed out, his displeasure apparent.

“Didn’t I?  Ah… you’re right.  Must’ve slipped my mind.  You had something to say?”

“Why yes, as a matter of fact I did.  I may not have been one of her tutors, but need I remind you that you appointed me to pose as yourself not only so that you might work more closely with her, but also so that I may observe her development from a distance, uninfluenced by the intimacy that so often comes with such close association as personal tutelage.”

“What’s your point?” Dämons testily asked.

“My point is that I’ve had the opportunity to observe Miss Hooves from an entirely different perspective than the rest of you.  From said perspective, I’ve been able to observe things that you all, it seems, have overlooked.  In my humble opinion, these things should be cause for some concern.”  There was an unnerving easiness to Bitter Sweet’s voice.  It seemed too forced in its nonchalance, as though it were concealing the true spirit of his words.  As Bitter continued, Dämons attempted to ascertain that spirit while he listened.

“Sister Lightning, if you’d be so kind, I’d like you to answer a simple question for me: is Miss Hooves capable of killing?”

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Lighting asked, clearly perturbed by the question.

“Exactly what I said: is she capable of killing?  I don’t mean is she physically capable of doing so, I’ve no doubt she is.  But mentally is she in a position where she’d be willing to take another’s life if the Order demanded it?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you have an exceptional talent for gauging personal character, as you just demonstrated,” Bitter replied.  “As far as I’m concerned, you’re more qualified than anyone else in this room to answer my question.  So please, if you will.”

Lightning’s eyes darted back and forth between Dämons and Bitter while she thought up a response.  After awhile, not wanting to meet either of their gazes, her eyes drifted down, settling on the table in front of her.  Finally, after an uncomfortably long silence, she began, not raising her eyes.

“Derpy is… she… she has strong convictions, very strong.  She truly wants to take what she’s learned, the skills she’s acquired, and use all of it to help others.  She recognizes that there’s much injustice in Equestria and that it must be dealt with.  That said… she’s very uncomfortable with the notion of death.  Not in an immature sense, mind you.  If anything, she has a very mature sense of death and its import.  She understands and seems to accept the notion of taking a life for just reasons, and also understands that there’s a need for ponies out there willing to do just that.”

“But personally, I don’t think she could ever bring herself to take another’s life, not unless it were an extreme emergency.  Her mother’s death simply left too big of an impact on her to do so; she understands the pain that comes with such a loss, and I don’t think she’d be able to take somepony else’s life knowing she might be bringing that very same pain to another.  This isn’t pacifism, mind you, it’s a… it’s sort of an insecurity.  No matter what lengths she might be willing to take, she does not seem to conceive of herself as worthy of taking another’s life, and for better or worse, that’s just who she is.”

“Thank you Lightning,” Bitter said.  There was a ravenous look in his eyes, like that of a shark closing in for a kill.  “One more question: what is the extent of her notion of ‘just’ killing?”

“I don’t know.  I honestly don’t know,” Lightning answered, almost whispering it.  For a minute nopony said a word, but then, just as suddenly as the room had fallen silent, Dämons spoke up.

“Could you all please give Brother Bitter and I some privacy?”  He seemed to be struggling to keep his voice level and composed.  Without a word, everypony else got up and left; they knew better than to question their master, especially given his current temperament.  Bitter himself rose from his seat with the rest of them and moved to the other end of the table, now sitting directly opposite his superior.  As soon as the rest had left and securely shut the door behind them, Dämons turned to Bitter, glowering at him.

“What is this game you’re playing?” he savagely demanded.  Bitter remained calm as ever and shook his head.

“You mistake genuine apprehension for political machinations, brother,” he answered.

“Is that so?  Well then, please, by all means, explain your ‘concerns’,” Dämons bid.

“You heard it yourself.  Derpy Hooves is unwilling, perhaps even incapable, of taking another’s life.  What’s more, we don’t even know for sure what she considers to be a just rationale for killing, but I have an idea of what she wouldn’t be alright with, and it includes that which we’d be asking her to be a part of as one of our own.”

“You don’t know that,” Dämons declared.

“No, I don’t.  But neither do you.  That is my real concern, just how little we do know about her.  Her intentions, motivations, they’re a mystery to all of us.  The little we do know for sure does not suggest that she’d be inclined to support us in our efforts.  But most galling of all, perhaps, is that you yourself know as little as the rest of us.  You, who sought her out in the first place, invited her here, and have worked more closely with her than any of us.  Yet you, like the rest of us, still haven’t the faintest notion whether or not she has the heart for our cause!  That is simply unheard of, and I cannot in good conscience possibly endorse initiating anyone who remains such a wild card.  It’d be like playing with fire and hoping to get burned.”

Some of the fire left Dämons’ eyes as he considered the merit of his comrade’s words.  He still offered nothing more than a black scowl in Bitter’s direction, but his good sense was starting to get the better of his initial shock and anger at his lieutenant’s unexpected objection.  Much as he hated to admit it, there was more than a little truth in what he was saying.  All the same, he remained on guard; Bitter had given him considerable trouble more than a few times over the years, and Dämons was not yet convinced that there wasn’t more to this opposition than he was currently letting on.

“I’ll admit it’s possible I may have overlooked this particular aspect of Miss Hooves’ psyche.  In my defense, I have only worked with her for a year.”

“That’s not an excuse and you know it, not in this case!” Bitter spat.  “You knew very well going in that you’d have a limited timetable to train her.  Plans which you yourself set in motion are coming to a head, and to see those plans brought to fruition, the Order more than anything else right now needs unity in its ranks and everyone’s full attention and devotion to seeing Operation Herz Sturm through.  That doesn’t just include her, that includes you, more than anypony else.”

“Just what are you saying, Bitter?” Dämons asked, the slightest hint of suspicion tinting his words.

“Simple: you’ve grown too attached to her.  And in doing so, in overlooking so many facets of her character, you’ve not only compromised your position as her teacher, but also your position as our leader.”

For a moment, neither of them said another word.  They both knew full well the implications of what’d just been said; in a split second, the conversation had gone from being a mere dispute over Derpy’s loyalty to an all-out challenge of Dämons’ authority.

“Is that it?” Dämons asked acidly.  “Come now, if you’ve got something more to say, say it.  Let’s have it, Bitter, all of it.”

“Gladly,” Bitter rejoined, though the slightest tinge of hesitation colored his words.  “Frankly, I wouldn’t be so worried about all this if not for one other thing: you’ve done this before.  A lot.  Time and again, you’ve let personal biases cloud your better judgment of others, namely, those you’ve personally taken under your own wing.  What’s more, only bad has come from this.  Friends and the Order have suffered whenever you’ve allowed your feelings to blind you in the past.  We’ve bounced back from your failures, yes, but we still bear the scars.  And now, when we stand on the verge of making history like never before, a position our Order has not been in in centuries, what do you do?  You bring in an unpredictable variable, a wild card that could just as easily betray us as she could assist us, simply presuming that she’ll gladly serve as another cog in our machine, no questions asked.”

That got Dämons blood boiling, and for an instant a burning fury consumed him.  He opened his mouth as though about to launch into a violent outburst, but barely stopped himself.  Recovering his composure, he hung his head, his face downcast.  He looked ashamed, and his body was practically shaking as the truth of Bitter’s words soaked in.  He hated that Bitter was right, and he hated himself even more for trying to deny it.  After struggling to find the right words for some minutes, Dämons took a few deep breaths, recovering his typical coolness, and, lifting his gaze, looked Bitter in the eye once more.

“You’re right.  As much as I hate to admit it, you are right.  I’ve failed too many times, and too many have suffered because of my failures.  I hope you can appreciate how difficult it is for me to admit this, especially to you.  The truth is a hard thing for all of us sometimes, a hard, ugly thing that we don’t want to face.  What’s worse is when someone we don’t particularly care for forces us to face the truth, and I for one most certainly do not care for you, Bitter.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Bitter replied.  “But you already knew that.”

“But of course.  We’ve both known it for years.  You’ve resented me ever since I became the Demon’s Stallion and took that which you thought was yours by right.  Through the years, you’ve never failed to give me trouble whenever you got the chance, and why wouldn’t you?  I’m the wellspring of your deepest insecurities and feelings of failure and inadequacy, and you, well, you’re a constant pain in my flank.  And yet we’ve still managed to work side by side for all these years.  Have you ever wondered why?”

“It crosses my mind from time to time.  More often that I’d like,” Bitter admitted.

“Mine too,” Dämons said.  “I think I figured it out some years ago.  You can’t get rid of me because the Order needs me; my genius, ambition, and the will to see my hopes and dreams for the Order become reality, you’ve never been able to match any of these qualities of mine.  I, on the other hoof, can’t get rid of you because I need you, somepony willing to say ‘no’ to my ideas, a critical voice more than ready to scrutinize my every move.  You’re the only one of my lieutenants older than I, and your counsel has proven invaluable through the years.”

“I’m touched, but what’s your point?” Bitter asked, wondering what exactly Dämons was getting at.

“My point is that you need to know that I really do appreciate what you have to say, Bitter.  I don’t know what I would’ve done without your advice, critiques, counsel, and guidance.  I trust you, Bitter, like I’m trusting you now.  Miss Hooves is not at an ideal point mentally to join our ranks, that much I can concede.  I trust your judgment.  Now, however, I need to ask you to trust me in turn.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bitter, I am her teacher, just as I am the Order’s leader.  It is my right and responsibility, both as her teacher and your leader, to fix this.  I know I’m asking a lot of you, but I need you to trust me when I say that I believe wholeheartedly that she can be won over to our cause.  I just need you to trust me to handle it, my way, in my time.  I know that we are working on a very tight timetable, but I just know, with every fiber of my being, that Derpy can and will play a vital role in the coming enterprise.  It won’t be like before; I won’t let it.  Understood?”

Slowly, without saying a word, Bitter nodded, his visage one of guarded neutrality.

“Well?  Do you trust me?”

Again, he silently nodded.

“Say it,” Dämons commanded.

“I trust you, sir,” Bitter said, his tone as neutral as his countenance.  Dämons didn’t quite know what to make of his attitude, but for the time being, that was good enough for him.  As far as he was concerned, a potential crisis had just been averted.

“Thank you, my friend.  You are dismissed.”  With a wave of his hoof, Dämons beckoned Bitter to take his leave, and the latter promptly arose from his seat and departed, shutting the door behind him with a resounding thud.  Slumping in his chair, Dämons breathed a long, drawn out sigh of relief, and for some time just stared up at the featureless ceiling.

Well… that could’ve gone better.  Then again, I suppose it could just as easily have gone worse.  Why now?  He’s questioned my authority plenty in the past, but never outright challenged it, not like this: so why now?  It’s always damn hard trying to figure out with him whether his opinions are born of legitimate concerns, jealousy, or both.  In any case, something tells me I haven’t heard the last of this.

Whatever his motives may have been, however, he did, regrettably, have a point.  She’s not ready, and that’s partly my fault.  But… I can fix this.  I know I can.  All I have to do is win her heart to our cause; it’s as simple as that!  She can be won, of that I am certain.  She must be won; we’ve come too far to turn back now, to squander all our hard work and simply toss aside someone who might very well be the future of the Order.

I just need a little more time, is all.  Why is it that those commodities which we need the most are always the shortest in supply?  Eh, no matter, I work best under pressure anyway.  Still, this will be a delicate process, and must be handled with the utmost care; she must be eased into accepting our mindset, slowly but surely.  Yes, that ought to do it: slowly but surely.  She’s so close, and she’s already taken so many steps towards becoming one of us all on her own; I shouldn’t even need to do much myself, all she needs at this point is a little nudge in the right direction.  The rest is up to her.

She hasn’t let me down once; she won’t let me down now.  I will lead us all into a brighter tomorrow, and she’ll be right at my side through it all, ready to take the reins when my time comes to an end.  She will be our future.  I swear it.

Fears and past failures, toils and triumphs, a lifetime full of joy and sorrow, all this and much more seemed to file in a tumultuous procession before Dämons’ very eyes.  At the end of it all stood the future in all its terrifying uncertainty; no matter how much he tried to grasp, infer, subdue, or control it, it always managed to elude his reach.  It filled him with dread now, to think of what was to come, what might go wrong, the interminable list of possibilities that lay before him.  There was only one certainty at the end of that road, that grey horizon which he, like all before and after him, must pass in the end.  All else was uncertainty.

No… no… all our dreams will become realities.  All of them.

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Back in his own cell, darker thoughts occupied Bitter Sweet’s mind.  Pacing about, driven by an intense fury, an intricate design of his own began to formulate.

Damn fool’s as blind as ever!  Pride, ambition, stubbornness, they’re all blinding him to the reality staring him in the face.  She’s not one of us, and she never will be!  He is setting us all up for calamity, and he can’t even see it.

No more.  I’ve put up with this for far too long.  We can’t be dealing with this, not now, not with so much at stake.  This is my chance, my time, and this last failure of his will secure my ascendancy to my rightful place.  I will lead the Order to the coming dawn because I must.  He had his chance, and he chose to squander it on a filly who’s more dangerous to us than she’s worth.

Sorry, Dämons, but you’ve left me no choice.  After I’ve dealt with her, your masquerade will be revealed for the farcical façade that it’s been, your leadership, upended once and for all.  ‘Tis only for the greater good.