The Trials of Ponydom

- Duke Amastride -

He kept his hood up about him, kept that ghastly face from the crowd of equine, for what was he now? A deformed man of little talent, he'd relied on those unbelievably good looks, he'd encouraged people to invest with him, oh, he know how to manipulate them. A simple distraction at the right moment, a glistening eye and a turn of the mane, at times ponies couldn't help but WANT to take care of him, or they thought him brilliant simply because he could distract at the height of the proposal and all of a sudden the climax, the foundation that held the whole plan together didn't seem to matter that much.

His face . . . that was how he'd received his Duchy or rather his duke's title and the land that came with it, even those demigods weren't used to one of his talents. At least not one so confident and direct in his approach. But what was he to do NOW? That nag! That common girl at the tavern, she'd completely gone balistic, it made NO sense. All of a sudden she was beating him with a pan and all he did was give her the look he'd given thousands of other mares. A look meant to avoid the bill . . . but she. Oh she would pay, most certainly and literally. He'd put her in such debt that the loss of all his estate, real and otherwise will look like nothing.

Of course it wasn't like he'd lost them yet, but his plans still needed heaps of funding before profit would stem from them. His hundreds of projects . . . profit never seemed so important before but now, now he'd be relying upon it. This scar . . . for a scar marred his features most predominately, this scar would ruin his greatest gift. He could distract and maybe cause pity but it would be a revulsion now, a revulsion . . . his free train-ride was over and that was enough to make any pony angry.

But the Duke was not any-pony and he was furious. The hate that poured forth from his mind would not be stiffened till his REVENGE was complete and already he set that twisted brain to thinking up the scheme he'd enact. If only the Duke could use that wicked brain of his to understand he needed no free tickets, only a little dedication. So many ponies would give a hoof and an eye to be where he was and he hadn't the smallest plan to stay or improve, in his eyes it was over.



Oh no . . . what had she gotten herself into? Why had she done it? The whole thing was so violent. So utterly frustrating, how could he not see how he was goading her? Every turn of his head every reaction so fake, so actorish. It had made her blood boil. BOIL! The complete opposite of her usual meek disposition but that man . . . that DUKE, oh no!

It had all started a couple weeks ago, she doubted he had seen her even once during that time and really she quite preferred that. It allowed her to grow more and more disdainful of this false man's easy living. She who had, had to scrub and wash floors since she was but a filly, needed to help her mother maintain the Inn else they fall to starvation and homelessness. This was Canterlot after-all, the land of the prejudice, she liked to call it. If the Inn wasn't sparkling and in the best repair the only folk she and her mother would get were louts and tab-makers. This they could not afford, or so mother kept saying.

So, she had suffered and struggled at school, when the time came mother would simply have to get another maid. Then HE came and despite all Amy's struggling all he had to do was turn an eye to her silly mother and the mare would wipe his gigantic bills clean.

The man was a sparkling pig, a beautiful prize hog but a parasite that did nothing but leech off others and it had just been too much today. It really was a horrible day . . . she'd been getting Ill, some congestion in her lungs that made it hard to breathe when doing anything. Than a particularly difficult teacher at the university decided to spring a quiz on her over material she hand't the slightest time to review. And finally this man was her grooming himself and showing off like peacock and he turned his eye upon her and smile that sickly fake smile. It was too much and now, now because of this ONE day she could easily be ruined for her life.



Oh her stupid daughter! She really was such an idiotic filly, why would ANYONE strike a man that beautiful? And a COUNT none the less, no, wait . . . he was a Duke! Made so by their royal holiness. What had the girl gotten herself into? Well she couldn't be held accountable for it, most certainly not! She'd remove her from the store at once and insist she stay away during open-hours. Of course if she tried to refuse that just wouldn't do and she'd have to threaten, besides, she was 16 now? No, she turned 17 three months ago! That's far old enough to start her life away from home. Yes, if she put up anymore trouble that might need to be the solution. She couldn't afford to lose this position!

And what Amy didn't know was her mother really wouldn't allow her position as a high-end Innkeeper fall. She'd become too accustomed to the good things in life, having her own business and food whenever she wanted it. It showed on her too, she'd gained quite a few pounds from her filly years. Of course Jewlie had wedded into money and that made things all the more worse. Circumstances are like any-other-drug and when one becomes too used to or desirous of the feeling they obtain by holding such a circumstance, addiction generally follows. This was no different for Jewlie, she had hidden how much the Inn actually took in from her daughter, because like quite a few people of that rank they coveted every fraction of what they owned, unwilling to part with a single sliver of it.

Not even for a daughter that reminded her of the horrible marriage she had to endure for all of three years. Of course just that in itself shouldn't be reason for not-caring about another pony but being thoroughly uneducated and ignorant sometimes may. And such was the case with Jewlie and Amy. Jewlie didn't wish to take on another hired hand though she could easily afford it and thus both Amy and Black-kerchief were worn to the bone, while she 'busied' herself with counting the profits. Thus she never saw it fitting to inform Amy that she could easily pay her a salary for the long hours she spent caring for the Inn, nor give her excess food or first class teaching material. All-in-all Jewlie honestly believed Amy might be better off leaving, though she would soon find out what that did to her orderly and well-kept Inn if that came to pass.

So the mother pondered playing two bits between her hooves, hoping to all skies that the Duke wouldn't pull a lawsuit against them and if he did, she'd certainly press as much blame as possible into her daughters court.



All in all, the world was looking rather poor, through these three ponies' eyes, though forces were certainly converging upon mistreated Amy. Her action of great selfishness would cost her, but one wonders how much it SHOULD cost. Can a single moment tear one from one's complacency and set one upon one's destiny? Or, at the very least tear one from their accustomed habitual actions? That is why I am here writing this story. This is no ordinary tale after-all this is the tale of Lady Frostshine, her tribulations and great deeds. It is a long and sorrowful tale but one that twangs at those strings of heart, or so it has always done for me. And her tale is so obscure and untold that this humble scholar could not help putting pen to paper and writing. Writing for her glory and memory and writing so I might share my own sense of importance.

So come, come and remember with me, my friends. That great Lady Frostshine

- Excerpt from 'The Lady Frostshine'; Author: Crimson Velvet









He had returned home and taken a nice long look into his dining room mirror, that mirror was now shattered and it's remnants strewn about the dining floor. The gash . . . how could a pan cut so deeply? It ruined him, completely, utterly. He didn't care what magics the doctors would perform the magic or science to remove this scar and replace what he had exactly simply didn't exist and to even try would be foolish, he'd be wasting money and be making himself even more of an abomination.

Clutching the edges of his marble-oak table hard, he stared into that dim reflection: "You are a daemon now, Amastride. A leech. No longer can you claim your superior existence gives you such a right. You are NOTHING." And his hooves slide harmlessly over the marbled surface. No scratches or abrasions the stuff was treated too perfectly.

Eventually the duke woke up the next day, he'd been pacing around his house incessantly and hour after hour flew by, until he'd collapsed onto a couch built into the floor. A low thing with no legs but only a high step of fabric, made for reclining it held him soundly during his troubled dreams, but now he awoke and the self pity was gone filled with endless torrents of fury and hatred. That waitress. Yes, she'd have everything go wrong for her today forwards. First he'd file the lawsuit papers, lawyer Georgias Bright-quill would see everything was properly done, then his plan would go into action and she'd wish she never set eyes upon him.

The Duke stepped upon a broken shard of that broken mirror and for a moment his crazed, demented appearance was visible. His tidy silken main in knots from all his involuntary twirling; eyes bleary and focused on their goal but not reality; his right hoof cut from the mirror debacle, and the dried blood knotting the fur beneath it; his clothes a disarrayed mess, as he hadn't bothered to change in the slightest and the awful mark of the pan's cut across the right side of his face.

With this countenance the duke left his house, bothering not a moment to fix any portion of his distraught appearance. And, most certainly, afterwards equine around town who saw him thought he a ghost returned to take revenge upon his murderer . No pony knew how true that statement was.





Dear Celestia, that couldn't be . . . but it was, it had to be. Amy had just spied a wraith like figure gliding past the window, it had certainly been that duke. The one she'd struck with the pan, he hadn't even looked into the tavern, and she was thankful for that, her proximity to the window would have instantly given her away. In truth she was surprised he hadn't spied her for just passing by, could . . . could something be wrong? The man's eyes weren't their usual reflective quality, in truth they seemed dazed and far away. Had she really hurt him? He had stumbled than ran out of their so quickly, could he have suffered some serious brain damage? It-it wasn't impossible but the thought turned her blood cold. What had she done?

Being the young girl of outstanding morales, Amy pushed out the front door and rushed after him, calling his name. But the instant she caught his attention she knew he needed no help. The look of pure malice he blasted over at her was almost enough to stop her heart. Than he turned his back and continued to glide on, that strange wraith among the worried ponies. People gathered around her, asking who that man was; asking why he looked like he did and whether he was sane. But Amy was struck dumb, the look he sent her was no simple look of distaste or anger. It was hate, animosity and revenge, that sickening tempting emotion she could clearly see sparkling in those demented depths.

What had she done . . . that look told her she wasn't just in for a storm, she would be drowning in a tsunami while meteors fell around her. The thought didn't seem exaggerated to her, the man had power and he clearly couldn't think of anything but revenge, his appearance told that story plain enough. What was she to DO?

Ignoring the crowds she pushed into the Inn and ignored the protestations of her mother, as she passed up into her room, shut the door and slide down against it on the brink of tears. One stupid mistake . . . it was an awful-awful thing but, wasn't what he was doing awful in it's own way? She hadn't meant to hurt him so bad, she'd swung the pan far-far too hard and he'd turned his head at the wrong time. It wasn't all her fault? Was it!? Struggling to hold the tears back did nothing, as they were already cascading down her cheeks. Getting up she fell onto her bed and passed out, she wouldn't deal with it right now. And she couldn't go to school with this hanging over her head. Nor would her mother pry her from this room if she tried. The sturdy Inn door was bolted and no shouting would wake Amy from her distraught coma.



That awful girl! She hadn't even bothered to explain why she was in such a hurry to abandon her duties twice. For right when she returned, she went upstairs! The impertinence! But even Jewlie saw something of her daughters agitated state, so she left her to do whatever it was she WAS doing and contented herself by grumbling about the incompetence that surrounded her. She would have thrown her hooves up, when several hours passed and the filly hadn't come down again. But that was when a particularly distraught customer wandered in.

"Oh no, I hope it's not one of those nut-cases. She certainly doesn't seem to know where she is . . ." Despite these thoughts, a great smile sat on the women's face, a smile only one so practiced in the art could make. It was inviting but not overly so, and somehow it conveyed that the woman was free to stay . . . as long as she paid for the privileged. A true inn-keeper's smile.

"My goodness! You look like you could have a rest, come sit down in some of our specialized booths, see the plush cushioning? 'The Brown Hospitality, lodgings and restaurant' may not be cheap but I think you'll see why we up our prices a little. So you can enjoy the fine comfort only quality care can buy. " The heavy, middle-aged mare patted one of the stalls, her small eyes appraising the customer trying to determine exactly how far she could push without driving her away and maximizing profits.

But before she was able to even begin the process . . .




. . .The crazed looking duke burst into the Inn, Georgias Bright-quill at his hooves and slightly out of breath. Both were perspiring but the former's smell was more than slightly poignant and one could clearly see his pupils were far too dilated. "GEORGIAS, inform these . . . people what I've just done. Tell them QUICKLY!" Amastride let spittle fly as he screamed out his demand and Georgias, obviously a sensible fellow, didn't refuse.

Stepping forward, he whipped some of the excess sweat from his forehead and around his neck; a lightly dyed green handkerchief did the job and quickly returned to his suit's upper-breast pocket, where-in a pen sat clipped as well. The pony was pleasant looking, a middle-aged stallion who had gracefully aged into his position. A good firm snout but slightly longer than handsome would allow and two great nostrils that flared with the slightest exercise, as the present situation proved. Chestnut mane and tail just beginning to turn to gray and cropped short in a practical if slightly fashionable style. And a thick and fuzzy tangerine coat. He was a normal build but his slightly puffed fur made him appear slightly more muscular and fit than he was, and with this rowdy fur being tamed by the slick beads of sweat, one could see how slight the pony truly was. So handsome enough, but no great beauty and certainly nothing that could compare with the Duke.

"It is my duty to inform you, miss . . ." The stallion began steadily and without any sign of sympathy or remorse, only a slight irritation and by the way he would pull that handkerchief from it's pocket and the number of times he passed it over his brow, I think one might properly speculate that he was irritated by the dreadful haste he was forced into, to get here and possibly his failure to control his heavy breathing. ". . . My client, Duke Amastride will be taking up legal proceedings against you. In short miss, you may be notified that Duke Amastride intends to sue you for damages to his person and using unruly servants. The fact that the servant is your own daughter makes this whole thing all the more shameful and he intends to make sure your business is fully and properly CLOSED."



The look on Jewlie's face could not have fallen further. From her semi-pleasant smile to a look of fear, dread and all the other expressions a trapped animal might take on. Instantly her voice was harsher, although it was no great thing of fluttering beauty, now, now it was harsh and guttural. "NO! NO please sir!" She begged, there was no other word for it as she was upon her front knees, kneading the lawyers clothes before she remembered he was only the representative and then crawling to the Duke to placate him, to prostrate herself before him and beg, beg with every ounce of skill she had. "Please, sir. It wasn't my fault, that idiot filly of a daughter it was all her. She did a heinous thing! HEINOUS! Take her, throw her in jail she deserves it!"



The lawyer jumped back in disgust at the sudden prostration, until he understood the woman's act and right away caught her. With words however, not movement. "Hold there, mare! Duke Armastride is willing to make a settlement that you will most likely find acceptable. If your words are any compass to your morality. " And he was scowling at the woman again, as she finished up her pleading to take her daughter.

The Duke's eyes glinted though, the blazing flame growing stronger at the mother's words. For now, now he had his hook. And he cut off his lawyer as the stallion began to explain the circumstance. "Listen, old-girl" And he forcibly pulled the middle-aged mare to her feet, her eyes glistening with hope but her body trembling in fear.

Then the Duke went on to propose one of the most insane and convoluted pieces of legal documentation that must have ever existed: "Your daughter has ruined me, don't look at me like that! Pay attention to me, look in my face while I'm talking!" For the mare had caught hold of the great gash in the stallion's head and she had inadvertently turned away. "Your daughter has ruined me, so now I will ruin her. I go into this without lying to you for I see in your self-saving nature that we are twin hearts and you will understand my need for revenge on the one who has ruined me. " Now the mare couldn't look him in the eyes as a crazed passion burned there, brighter than any sun but deformed and horrifying. She couldn't say she understood truthfully, no, but she agreed anyhow as she was as the stallion said, self-serving; self-saving.

"Soon you will become my mother-in-law, as I will wed your daughter." He didn't let her interrupt as he continued on. "She shall become my wife, and she shall stay and serve me as a common slave. I have here a prenuptial document that you and she must sign. It is fairly straight-forwards but feel free to peruse it for the remainder of the day. In essence it declares that if she should ever break our vows and leave me I shall obtain all her land and future inheritance at that point-in-time. In other-words madame all YOUR material possession shall become mine. Furthermore I've had my lawyer place within a confession towards assaulting me and a bargain to go to jail for at least 5 years. This I shall use if she deserts me and thus I shall have due collateral and power over you both. OR, you may refuse and my lawyer shall sue you into bankruptcy and you shall never rise from the depths of poverty he will bury you in."

Georgias' face was troubled and more than once he glanced at those feverish eyes, almost burning a hole in his patron's head. His was obviously only a partial cooperation and one that was held together by capital no-doubt. And his expression or silence was mirrored in all the customers within the Inn. For the Duke's voice was anything but silent. One could feel the tension in the air as ponies desired to gossip between themselves but they didn't dare upset this pony at the moment, later though, later there would certainly be horrible things said about the once divine Duke Amastride.



The shouting downstairs, for there had been a little shouting, had carried up to the distraught Amy's room. It had brought her to come forth, leaving her bed and listening for any commotion. There were some soft scuffing noises, that could be heard even above and something like pleading or sobbing. Slowly, and quite trepidly, the girl unbolted her door and slowly made her way downstairs.

The scene before her was nothing to lighten her heart. Her mother laying half prostrate before . . . the duke. Or what was left of the duke, he looked sick and wraithlike as before. There was someone else as well, obviously a member of the congregation making the noise. And that man's clean and perceptive eyes caught hold of her, for a moment she saw something like tears in them, before they shut her out of his mind. "Ah" Was all he put forth, but it was quite enough to clue the Duke into where she was.






"AH, hello there, my dear." His eyes and the sheer malice in how he spoke those words . . . nothing could have stricken more horror into the young maid's heart. And it shew on her face.

The duke however, simply had another awful glint of vengeance in his eyes and a queer sneer creeping up his face. "Your mother has been the first to congratulate us on our engagement, dear. Isn't that so Ms. Brent?" The glare he gave her was cold and devoid of even mock affection, a glare that could freeze stone and tear the foundations of any building or relationship asunder. Whatever this stallion had planned he wanted it to come through and the way he planned it to the very letter.

"Listen dear . . ." Lawyer Georgias began, slowly and with obvious difficulty. "We've brought some papers here, for you to sign. I'd suggest you take a quick look over them but they simply state: 'I promise to wed the Duke Amastride and never to break my vows to him, else grave consequences shall be made apparent. And if you turn to the second page, you will see what those consequences are. . ."





Then her mother looked up at the young heroine. "STUPID FILLY, IDIOT MARE! You've brought ruination upon this family, the only way to get yourself out of it is to take the Duke's generous and undeserved offer." If there hadn't been witnesses it was all to likely this woman might have struck her daughter, though she'd never done such before. "Now submit to Amastride's wishes, it's the best that will ever become a lowly stupid filly like yourself. " She was crying but for what reason and for whom wasn't clear, perhaps the old mare's heart wasn't stone in her daughters direction after all. But then again, it was far more likely she wept for herself, seeing that there was still chance she could lose all.






All this was shouted upon Amy in a few seconds, and she'd only gotten the papers when her mothers insults struck her. She was not overly offended, truth be told. Her mother had never shouted such vulgar self-justifying lies in her face before but the girl knew she'd always thought such things whenever she made the smallest mistake. So it wasn't the insults that struck her and left her stunned, but the fact they were communicated. All through her life she'd had to put up with this . . . mare, and every day drained her confidence the merest sliver, more. But sliver's build and most of her confidence had been shaven from her. Perhaps this was one reason she struck this man who had all the confidence in the world and for no reason other than he was 'gifted' with fine looks.

Now, however, it was enough for the final blow that sent her reeling, again. And she certainly would have gone sane right there and then if it wasn't for the great number of people around her. There were so many, SO MANY and she'd not give any of these horrible non-ponies the pleasure of knowing they'd broken her spirit. The one quality that had kept her going her entire life.

So, she handed the paper back to the lawyer as she knew whatever lay within it was impenetrable and solid as the day was long. And for the second time in her life she resigned herself to her lot, she would become a Duke's wife and she would do it well. She hated the stallion, despised him with every tuft of her hide but she would show him nothing but kindness or so she determined. She'd break down the insane mental walls that blocked his mind from reason, sense and compassion and she'd have her victory in full when he could no longer look upon her with anger. Maybe never with love, but with a respect he'd never shown anyone before. Perhaps she was being Idealistic at the time, but she needed to believe such things were possible. Any direct opposition towards the man would lead to nothing but more hate, more spite, more evil. And she needed something to keep her own fragile mind together.

It was then Amy Brent leaned into her future husband and kissed him full on the lips. Both ends were disdainful of the other and it was felt by both in that moment. And so the footing for their marriage was planned. "Very well, my betrothed, we shall wed."



With a scarf and a hearty 'ha!' Devan Mc. Sulvate came marching into the Inn, his band of soldiers thirty-strong, besides and behind him. A detachment from Manhattan sent over due to the recent increase in brigands plaguing the merchants traveling by road. It wasn't as if they were directly attacking the merchants but they were bleeding the merchants dry by playing dirty tricks on them, such as digging holes in the road and disguising them, or ruining the road to the point of where it was nearly impossible for the traveling caravans to pass through without losing a few wheels and sometimes those oxen, who often make business pacts with the traveling merchants, sprained their ankles on the horrible roads.

At which point these 'neo-brigands' would swoop in and offer exactly what the merchants needed, but ALWAYS for an exorbitant price. The problem was no-one could PROVE anything, they'd yet to be caught in the act of ruining the road or discussing these nefarious plots amongst themselves and merchants have been attempting to brave more dangerous routes because of these ponies, with disastrous consequences. Many minor injuries, loss of merchandise and sometimes even serious injuries. All this was driving up the prices of all those luxury goods the Canterlot folk are so used to having, something that was quickly becoming unacceptable.

So they were here, to patrol the roads and catch these bandits red-handed. Or rather they'd just come back from an uneventful day, in which they'd not spied another pony let alone bandits. So the group was quite ready to relax, and finding the first tavern they could decided to push in.

They were met by a dead silence, and soon the ponies spied the noble figure and his lawyer standing over a prostrate mare, and a common looking filly kissed the rather dashing, if marred, noble. The whole thing wreaked of something that was just not proper, and captain Mc. Sulvate stepped forwards cautiously, all mirth washed from his face. He addressed the prostrate mare. "Excuse me, Mam, is everything all-right?"




"No" That mare thought, nearly aloud. "They'd ruin everything, these random soldiers from beyond Canterlot, outsiders that had no right in interfering, no right to help create scandals. Scandals . . . all the customers had heard everything that occurred." The mare struggled to her hooves, knees creaking and popping at this sudden movement.

No-pony made to help her, Georgias involuntarily let his hoof fly out to greet hers, but quickly retracted the gesture with a small frown. His eyes now affixed on Amy and manic pony besides.

"I'm fine!" She barked at the sailors, giving them a disapproving frown before looking about her room. How was she to explain this? She didn't have any-ideas, so she simply began muttering and blabbering, watching the faces of the patrons and going over to nod and gesticulate to random ponies. "Is it not good? Is it not good, very good? I think it is exactly what my daughter needs. She is free of all this studying, cleaning and poor lifestyle. I know the Inn looks nice but that's because we spend all our extra coin in upkeeping the place, it is quite expensive to bring you such quality. It is possible we may never see our dear Amy again, so high has she risen, she may not wish to return to her sorrowful origins. Perhaps Duke Armastride will pull her away to lands unknown and places far besides. Or maybe they will be busy with the things lordly people are busy with I know not what those are. Isn't that so, Armastride?"





The Duke had long since dragged Amy out of the Inn, by then. He had pushed through the guards, giving them that manic glare and the guards were more than unwilling to stop him. After-all, they knew nothing of Canterlot nobility, nor the situation in this strange and rather impressive event. And thus they allowed the Duke to pass, Amy quick on his heel and Georgias bowing slighting to the group before passing through, himself. Their destination was no secret and the Duke had no scruples in announcing their wedding day was nigh, and any-pony who desired might join in the festivities as the lady Amastride was named and bound for all life and death to his family.

Ponies cheered and several were doe eyed or green eyed, as they viewed the couple. Despite his rather prominent scar the duke truly was none the less handsome and graceful, because of it, and now that his wraith-like vengeance had calmed somewhat only his disheveled hair and clothes marred his magnificence. That haughty and arrogant magnificence that made his march the equivalent of a kings or great ruler's and through the torn fabric one could see the scars. Those scars made by the mirror only the night before. And the shifting of light to shadow, as small clouds passed across that glorious sun, only highlighted the strange scars.





All this Amy saw and felt uneasy, unsure where they were headed, surely they would not be wedded as they were! To have even that moment stolen from her by this mad-man's revenge was horrifying. And Amy was quite unsettled, now, her choice to concede to life's horrific desires was becoming less and less possible for her to undergo. It was his statement, ". . .bound for all life and death to his family." Bound, and bound forever. Her name synonymous with that horrible house Armastride and the duke who had no compassion or heart. He only had looks and possibly some brains; now that those were stolen from him, he rained down his terror and anger upon all that moved and, certainly, all that caused this rapid change in his circumstances.

Amy's heart fluttered, it was so hard. Despite all of it the thing was so romantic and a true adventure. Amy had never, in honest, strove for adventure. Only a better life, but who doesn't dream something of this sudden and wonderful extent happening to them? Then she was back in her rational mind, and disgust filled her, even her mouth tasted of cranberries and tar. Happy? How in Equestria could she enjoy it, this devil was stealing her away to a life of torture and deprivation, surely he would strive to drive her mad and she was happy? At this rate he had already halfway succeeded without even trying. She spat to the side, attempting to expel that awful thought along with this sudden bitter taste.

And the spittle flew, glittering in the sun and reminding her of the freedom she'd had just moments before. In the instant it took that saliva to hit the ground she was resigned. The freedom had been stolen from her or at least that was what he was attempting to do, she was sure, this she would struggle against for-ever or as long as she could. She would fight it by learning to love him some-how. She would fight his oppression and madness with a love and compassion he'd, likely, never had. A compassion she'd certainly never experienced but would feel from deep within. That place which allowed one beings suffering to be understood by another and reciprocate. This she would find, even if it took her years.

And so, with several tears breaking from her eyes, she was pulled along those perfect streets to the great stone Cathedral.