SHADES OF GRAY

Chapter Twenty - The Call

As it turned out, Alile didn't have to wait long to be summoned by the remaining Six. It was only a few days later that he was ascending the stairs to visit with the infirmary about a student of his that had been injured in training when he heard The Call. It started as a soft-seeming buzz in his head, as though he was beginning to get dehydrated... but it quickly became louder until suddenly a voice boomed in his head, an uncomfortable feeling like having a pony personally remove your brain and roll it around and back and forth between their two hooves, examining it in a similar way to a doctor examining a naked body... somewhat disconcerting.

After a quick stop at the infirmary, which was on his way, he heeded The Call and began the inevitable ascent to the top of the tower. He wasn't certain where they would be doing the questioning - they always seemed to choose a different place, in his experience - but the buzzing in his mind was still going, and would easily lead him there. He reached the top of a flight of stairs and felt the buzz begin to seemingly vibrate only the rightmost portion of his head... he veered to the right and headed toward the staircase in his vision. The buzz led him upward... forward... upward, and upward some more, then out onto one of the many balconies and carefully up the wallside steps until he was about three-quarters up the height of the tower, standing on one of the larger balconies, staring off into the distance of the desert and feeling his flesh crawl with impatience, waiting for the buzzing in his mind to end.

He turned away from the desert landscape sprawling out in his view and instead faced the rest of the balcony he was standing on. There were, of course, six figures standing in a circle there, awaiting his presence with varying amounts of patience; one of them seemed to be quietly, if pointedly, rapping a hoof against the ground in a rhythmic tapping manner. Alile carefully approached them and came to stand in the midst of the circle they created, and they all turned to face him.

"Sergeant Alile of the Blackforce, son of Konen, why do you come to us today?" The voice seemed to have been thrown; there was no way to tell which of the Six figures surrounding him it might belong to.

"I have heard and heeded The Call; I am here at your behest."

"And do you know why The Call was sent?" another voice, lighter, more feminine, asked from directly in front of him but not directly in front of him. He grimaced a bit, peered around himself at the cloaked pony-figures that stood stock-still except for the patient floating and movement of their capes caught in the late-afternoon desert updrafts.

"Yes; the Head of Justice must be chosen, and I am one of the ponies nominated for the position." Alile kept his voice neutral and tried not to fidget.

"Do you understand the procedure?" Another voice, this time behind him, but there was no member of the Six standing there, naturally. He gritted his teeth and tried not to look upset that the questioning seemed to be going this way.

"Yes, I understand."

There was silence. Alile felt the tingle of sweat prickling across the hairs of his hide as the sun's rays began to get uncomfortably hot on him. He realized the Six were waiting.

"You will ask me a series of questions, I will answer truthfully, and you will consider my worthiness," Alile added, hoping that was going to convince them to finally get started.

A general mumble started up amongst the circle, as though they were all discussing his actions and responses in monotone. It lasted a few moments and stopped abruptly as though they had all secretly somehow told each other exactly when to cease making noise.

"You're in a bedroom. It's evening. There is a nightstand, wooden. It looks old. There's a candle, flameless. Next to it, a vase. What color is the flower?"

The voice was feminine; Alile felt himself being distracted a little from the narration but thankfully caught the end question. He was surprised they seemed to be starting with the strangest questions, first, this time around. He mentally walked through the proposed situation and imagined the flower in question, its bright yellow petals gleaming in the moonlight.

"Yellow," he finally answered curtly.

"A pony steals a loaf of bread. What do you do?" A nondescript voice immediately followed up.

"Uhhh..." Alile considered. He knew the Six didn't answer questions, only asked them... he was expected to give as best an answer he could. It took him a long moment to consider the many sides.

"If he is not under my jurisdiction, alert the authorities. If he is... I would... take him to the nearest holding facility and prepare him for trial," he began to look a little nervous.

"Your mother betrays the ideals of Zith-lynd and the goddess Am'hatai. She refuses to turn herself in and comes to you for advice. What do you do?"

Alile gulped. He didn't have a mother - not anymore - but he was expected to consider what he would do, if he did. He paused for a somber moment of silence.

"I would beg her to turn herself in, and... refuse to house her, I suppose," he concluded.

"What color are the stars?" Another question shot from another direction.'

"Every color," he recited from memory, as Am'hatai had no one eye color but every eye color imaginable.

"Which of the Seven Virtues do you follow?"

"Compassion," Alile responded rotely... the Virtue he'd chosen as a younger pony, it felt odd to speak it now. It wasn't a common request.

"You may go." A voice immediately responded. Then, there was a silent expectance of his departure. He stood for a moment, looking around and taking in the ring of chosen ponies with a discerning eye before carefully turning away from them and fluttering off down the side of the tower. The moment he had stepped off the balcony they'd been on, he could hear them discussing things behind him... and then the rapid beating of his wings as he hefted himself into the air drowned out the sound. He was mostly glad his head was no longer buzzing with the Six's intrusive mind-speak. He floated downward like a leaf released from its dried autumn twig, down until he reached the third-level balcony that signalled an entrance to the cafeteria. Tables were set up outside and he came in for a careful landing in the designated area.

He had a relatively certain feeling he would not be passing the Six's muster. It was all right by him; the duty held no interest for him and he had better things to be doing with his time.

He turned to peer out at the sun, which was beginning to descend toward the distant sands with its usual ponderous gait. Kibeth would be getting out of her final classes soon; Alile wondered how quickly he could gather food from the cafeteria to bring home for another evening feast.

She pressed her hoof against the now-familiar metal panel that was the target for a hoof-press on the stained-glass windowed door and it swung opened with her practiced strength; she trotted quickly out into the garden and immediately stopped a moment to sniff a nearby tulip. The soft petals tickled the fine hairs on her muzzle and her nose twitched to rid her nostrils of the overwhelming need to sneeze. It faded quickly and she backed away from the tulip momentarily for another gaze. Nearby, a row of bluebells seemed to call her name. They hung in such perfect, straight symmetry, she bowed low to the ground and simply stared at them, without breathing - lest she muss them up - for a minute before pulling away and exhaling forcefully, then drawing in a deep drink of oxygen.

The heady scent of her entire garden pulled in all in one swift breath would normally make a pony swoon, but for Mistblossom it simply felt right. Entering the artificial, circulated air of the tower or standing in the humid, sweaty, desperate, strangling air of the midday desert made her feel like a fish attempting to breathe on land... she felt suffocated and shriveled. Part of the use of the fruit and vegetable gardens in her flower patches were for her own consumption; she rarely had to leave the garden's grounds, and she could not remember a time that she had spent an entire day in the tower at one length. Such restrictions usually meant she had few friends... she felt nervous enough around strange ponies without also feeling like she was choking on the air.

That's why she liked Dream Keeper's visits so much. Ponies came and went through the garden, but usually it was just for their own enjoyment, or stress relief, or contemplation, or musing, and rarely did any of them approach her, not even to say how much they enjoyed the garden she fought so hard to protect partly for their sake. So, she spent most of her time on her bamboo bed in her secluded corner of the garden... it sat behind a bamboo copse and could not be seen from the main pathways through the garden, and Dream Keeper was one of the few ponies privileged enough to have been told of its existence. They had spent several afternoons enjoying themselves in this small piece of the larger piece of quiet tranquility; Mistblossom had even made them dinner a time or two, and Dream Keeper had been able to stay to watch the sunset with her. They were good memories.

Which was why she was beginning to feel upset that her friend had yet to show up for their pre-arranged meeting time. She paced around her garden carefully sniffing at some of the closest flowers to check their potency - which she was satisfied with - and then approached a nearby fruit tree to sample a piece of its fruit. Fluttering high to the treetop, she peered down over her garden to see if perhaps Dream Keeper was hiding somewhere hoping to scare her, and as she picked a peach off the top of the tree and scanned the garden, she realized it was a silly idea and carefully fluttered back down to the pathway she'd just taken off from.

She had no idea why the mare wouldn't show up. She didn't recall any previous offense she may have caused. There had been no special happenings in the tower that day, save for the beginning of the questioning for the position within the Six.

That's when it dawned on her... Dream Keeper had been in the running for the position of Head of Justice. Mistblossom knew the calls to duty from the Six were frequently unexpected... perhaps that was what was delaying her friend. She heaved a sigh; there was also no way to tell how long the interrogation could take. Rumors circulated that it could last days, but surely that wasn't the case. She knew any questioning Dream Keeper answered would likely be answered quickly. The mare was a whiz with words when she needed to be, it seemed like. It was too bad she seemed so stuck up with her formal speech and tone. Mistblossom had learned to look past it.

Suddenly, there was the telltale soft creak of the hinges of the entrance to the garden. Mistblossom hurriedly disposed of the half-eaten peach in the compost and dropped the pit on her seed cart as she passed it and headed for the door. She could already hear hooves clopping down the pathway toward her and she put on a cheerful smile.

"Oh, uh, hello, miss," a gruff voice sounded as a stallion rounded the corner and seemed genuinely surprised to see her there. As if the garden managed to run itself somehow, she instantaneously scoffed inwardly.

"Good day. Are you visiting the garden for pleasure or are you here to help pick the strawberries? It's about time the ripe ones be plucked..."

"Pleasure," the stallion immediately replied, and dipped his head. His bright, unnaturally-hued green hair shook as he made the bowing motion, and Mistblossom's lips pursed at the display.

"My name is Regulus, m'lady. I don't want to be a bother, I just wished to take a stroll..."

"Please, take one, I insist," Mistblossom was immediately apologetic for her tone, and stepped aside to let him pass. She still felt perturbed on the inside, but it certainly wasn't right to be taking it out on this stallion. She watched him as he strolled by, and then away from her. She watched his handsome, toned hindquarters depart and imagined he must be some part of the castle's defenses... few ponies had the time for extracurricular strength-training unless they were part of the guard. She watched his cape flutter in the wind behind him but could see no insignia to identify him with; she imagined even if she saw one, she would have only half a guess at who it might be, being only so knowledgeable about the inner workings of the tower.

The stallion bent to sniff a rose here, a daisy there, and seemed to be ambling along at an unconcerned pace, so she spared him only a moment longer of a glance before quickly turning back to face the stained glass door. Dream Keeper certainly didn't seem to be coming, and shortly Mistblossom would need to be eating some sort of meal. She hated the awkwardness that accompanied a friend visiting when she was in the middle of a meal, and worried about this for a while. A long while. She simply stood, staring at the door, a soft breeze rustling her pale locks now and again.

Finally she decided to get started on gathering her dinner. She made a practiced round through the garden, stopping first at the vegetables, where she plucked a ripe zucchini and several beautiful, ruby-red tomatoes. There were ears of corn growing in a small portion of the vegetable garden and she considered these. Finally, she plucked off two ears, and carefully ate their husks while she moved around to shop the fruits.

There were obviously the trees; she picked ripe, fuzzy, bound-to-be-juicy peaches, and grass-green and bright golden apples. A lemon tree stood a bit neglected in one corner of the garden and from here she picked what few knew to be sweet lemons, a type of lemon that instantly and deliciously sweetened anything its juice came in contact with. It was frequently used to make sweet sodas, but some ponies began to complain of stomach aches from the sheer sweetness of the juice and use was cut back. Suffice it to say, they would be a treat to be sampling for later. In the fruit patch were several items, but she made a beeline for the giant, emerald, shining watermelons. The largest one she could find seemed appropriate; she'd been carefully cultivating them and hoped that, finally, this batch would be seedless... it would be a surprise, revealed when she sat down to eat.

Finally, she approached her grain reserves, There were already-milled barley and wheat grains, corn meals, dried beans, and several tubers. She checked the tubers for eyes and plucked a couple for consumption, followed by six cups of corn meal and two of barley. Nearby were some pre-picked herbs, which she kept in a set of herb drawers, constantly locked to keep out the prying eyes of ponies. She sampled a few of these and brought them with her.

All of this feast she piled high on her seed cart. The card was great for transporting produce around the garden as well as holding her seeds, and she was grateful for its existence now as her back began to ache from all of the harvesting. With a weary gate, she set her hooves solidly on the handles to the cart and began to push. It groaned to move forward but finally gained momentum, and soon she was pushing it over the rocky surface of the walkway... until she hit a bump. The cart hit a rut and wouldn't budge. Immediately frustrated, Mistblossom let out a strangled whinny.

A sudden rushed, clopping could be heard from the other side of the garden, and suddenly she heard "Hello? Hello, miss, are you all right?" as the stallion rounded a corner and saw her with the stuck cart. His eyes were genuinely concerned.

"I am all right... I'm afraid it's my cart. I just... lost my temper for a moment," she blew a lock of her hair out of her eyes and looked away from him sheepishly.

"Ah, is it anything I can help with?" He approached closer, and began to examine the cart and its contents. Mistblossom fluttered over to stand between him and the cart.

"Oh, no, sir... uh, Sir Regulus, I couldn't ask you to do that. I'll get this cart unstuck, just give me a moment," and immediately she began struggling with the cart again. The wheel easily in Regulus' view struggled to mount a particularly large chunk of quartz, getting caught in the rut between it and the previous cobble. It jiggled under Mistblossom's efforts but refused to begin to move forward. He just shook his head.

"Move aside, I can help you," he brushed her off and quickly jolted the cart out of the cobbles' recess, freeing it to begin to roll away. In the meantime, the watermelon Mistblossom had selected began to roll around on top of the cart. It rotated, slipped, and began to roll off the edge... and Regulus stepped swiftly forward and caught it deftly on the bridge of his muzzle, flipping it back onto the cart.

"Oh, thank you," Mistblossom breathed, relieved.

Regulus began closely eyeing the bountiful feast Mistblossom had acquired from her garden and then turned to look Mistblossom up and down with a decisive stare.

"You don't look like the type to eat this all by yourself," he chuckled. Mistblossom blushed and feigned a bit of anger.

"Of course not. It's for a friend and me. She just... hasn't shown up yet. I think she might be getting questioned by the Six..."

She trailed off and Regulus shrugged, unconcerned, for a moment before something seemed to dawn on him.

"Are you waiting for Dream Keeper?"

"Yes."

"Oh, yes, she did tell me she had something important to do when she ran off. It did seem she had received the Call. But that was hours ago, it certainly can't last much longer. Would you like me to keep you company?"

He seemed to be offering sincerely, thought Mistblossom had a very wary eye on him. She had gathered plenty of fruit for the three of them if it came to that, and he seemed to know Dream Keeper in some way. She supposed it couldn't hurt to allow him to stay and wait with her, even if she would be shooing him from the garden the moment Dream Keeper showed up.

"We can... eat in the pagoda," she offered, finally, not wanting to take him to the secret spot she had shared with Dream Keeper recently.

He followed her most obediently to the pagoda, where she laid out a blanket for them and began to cut up and serve some of the fruit. Soon they began to chat about Dream Keeper, and whether she would make a good Head of Justice. Regulus seemed a little uncomfortable with the talk, so they moved to something non sequitur... his favorite game as a child. As the sun began to descend and the sky began to darken, they discussed the tower's musicians, their previous history teachings - of which Mistblossom had few - and Mistblossom patiently listened to all of his talk about the goings-on in the tower. It helped her feel more connected to the tower-ponies despite her voluntary disconnection.

Dream Keeper never showed up that evening, and it was with great reluctance that Regulus had to wish Mistblossom a good evening and take his leave; he'd been neglecting his post for too long, and the assistant he'd hired would begin to wonder where he was. He thanked her profusely for the feast and promised he would let her know how things had gone for Dream Keeper, if the mare did not inform her, herself.

As Regulus stepped back through the stained glass doorway and into the tower, Mistblossom's gaze turned up toward the stars that were just beginning to peek out of the deep blue atmosphere. She prayed to them that all was all right with her friend. Then, she prayed that Regulus would come back to see her again, because she had enjoyed his company. She sought her bed and slept peacefully.