Night silver scraped comfortably in the Hunter's ears. The sound meant that the metal was coating nicely onto the steel ingot. Brittle, rough, the night silver clung to the metal just enough.
She carried it over to the forge, a simple pile of bricks with openings for the bellows and blades. The bellows at the base breathed life into the forge, lung and heart, and brought the two metals together. She pulled it out, hammered the metal with blasts of magic to force the night silver to disperse evenly throughout the steel, then twisted the flattened ingot until it took a form similar to a cord of rope.
The magic she blasted into the blade didn't just push the night silver. The metal repulsed magic, denied its existence, and forced that energy throughout the blade.
On top of adding extra heat into the steel, it also left traces of her aura in it as well. Latent magic, so passive even night silver couldn't touch it, empowered the blade. It would dull slower, and cut deeper through the magic that surrounded many monsters.
Fold, fold, bind, a thin steel wire tightly held the twisted metal together, and the Hunter put it back into the raging fire. She drew it out when it glowed like dragon flame and repeated the process.
Hammer, twist, fold, fold, rebind and reheat. Treat in oil.
Her old master and friend now took the mantle of blacksmith and instructed her on how to hammer the metal to a blade. With bursts of power she heated and shaped the metal from tip to tang. With magic the blade was near completion, though not even magic could make obsolete a steady hoof and a grindstone.
Tentatively, Guerrier sharpened the blade, refining the edge glistening sharp until it dripped with monster blood it would spill in the future.
"Careful, Twilight," he warned her as she polished the finished weapon. "That blade'll bite into your magic if you try holding it with levitation."
"I use my wings anyway, easier to manipulate while firing spells."
"Alright, but I still don't get why you had to put so much night silver into it. You're lucky your magic's a part of it, or you wouldn't even be able to stand near it without being drained."
"It's not really something I can talk about, even though I want to," answered the Hunter.
Her old master looked at her, a little hurt by the exclusion but more worried by far. "You don't have to hide anything from me. You never have."
"If I told you, if I even knew where to start, you'd just want to get involved," she put her polished sword into its sheath. "And I don't think that's possible."
Sighing, he set his blacksmith tools back on the tool bench, walked outside with a tired gait, and sat on the grass by the forge.
The building breathed heat, not because of its forge but because of the drying summer sun that baked the inside of the brick forge. Wide and spacious, the summer made it congested and roughly unpleasant.
"When are you leaving?" Guerrier asked the Hunter; she followed him outside to relax in warm breeze that fluttered through the coat and kissed the skin.
"Not far, don’t worry," she deflected. Useless.
Guerrier hacked up a laugh. "Young lady, if you could get a thought by me without my knowing, then my senses must be older than they ought to be. I raised you the best I could since that day I found you."
She nodded and sighed. "This isn't a normal hunt. The magic involved is beyond anything any pony can understand, including other mutant hunters."
"Not going to lie," Guerrier spoke grimly, "that's frightening. Magic has been something monster hunters rely on, rather than appreciate. Not to mention, witchcraft hasn't given magic a good name, no matter who you ask. You're not hunting witches, are you?"
The Hunter chuckled. "I don't think it's like that. It's just that the magic is hard to explain, is all. I'm taking a portal to an uncharted land, to put it simply."
"That all? Doesn't sound as bad as the kelpie." Guerrier stretched out on the grass and looked at the scar on the Hunter's shoulder, a nicely healed -though noticeable- bite mark left by the shape-shifting water elemental.
The Hunter rubbed her shoulder, extending her wing to stretch the muscle. "It was a tough choice in the end. But I did what I had to do, and I'm guessing the same's going to happen for this job."
"Then you'll be fine; you've remembered everything I taught you," Guerrier chuffed, reassuring himself as much as her. "I just hope wherever you're going, it's as ready for you as you are for it."
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Manehattan was, above all, city of wonder. Business districts, selling goods and services from catering to fashion to jewelry to mane dressing, made the city and its ports bustling as an economic center rife with opportunity. But instills more wonder is how, with 1.7 million ponies living in the cities, tourists seem to forget the ones who keep the clock ticking.
Starlight trotted with Spike to the community center of the Bronco Borough. The building was in repair, constantly, because fixing one thing took so long another part would break. This time it was a pipe for the water fountains.
"Jeez, I've never been to this part of Equestria," Spike remarked as the two of them passed the construction site.
Starlight nodded but looked for the coordinator of the neighborhood. She found his office at the end of the hallway on the left, and lightly tapped on the door.
"Come in, come in," he said.
With Spike as the writer they discussed many topics of interests. Funding for construction. Funding for school. Funding for clean energy like a solar farm to replace an abandoned carriage factory in the middle of the borough.
"Twilight also sent me to talk about new standards for the schools," Starlight added as they wrapped up how city funds would be distributed across Bronco's homeless shelters.
The coordinator pointed down the hallway. "Ms. Learnings is three doors down, but only her secretary's in today on account of a close relation's funeral in Fillydelphia."
"Alright, thank you," Starlight said. She and Spike stopped by and asked the secretary to send a note to Twilight's castle when Ms. Learnings returned from her visit.
"So, what next?" Spike asked as they left the building and as the construction workers cleaned up the new pipe they added as a replacement.
"Twilight wanted me to handle a debate being hosted by Manehattan Nightly News over reworking a part of Manehattan's school curriculum."
"Really? She's usually excited about those," Spike noted. "In fact, have you noticed that she's been a little off for the past few nights?"
"She's had more to do than usual," Starlight immediately replied. "Long hours has its way of catching up to ponies."
"Explains the poor sleep," Spike added. "Alright then, so where's this debate?"
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East Canterlot High School.
Night rises on the city, and many of its experts from both sides of the argument sit on the stage, facing each other. Starlight takes position on one of the sides with Twilight's permission to "speak for yourself" and not for the princesses. Twilight knew her stance; it was one they shared. And for the good of the future generations, it has to be asserted.
The host welcomes the audience, ten thousand ponies seated in the largest theater in Manehattan. On their left Starlight sits. On the right there are others sitting too.
"I'd like to begin with a question to the defending argument." True Voice turns to Starlight's side. "What are the main objections to teaching historical mythology in a scientific context? Erlen Myer, could you start us off?"
A stallion sitting in the row before Starlight clears his throat and speaks. "Well the crux of the problem is that it's simply not true. I mean, this isn't even debate in the educational or scientific community, and you certainly won't find any pony in Canterlot who thinks this sort of topic is fitting for a science class room."
"Hold on, you can't know it's not true," chimes in a mare from across the stages. "For centuries science has constantly reworked itself because there's always some observation that's wrong. We're simply arguing that the theory of evolution should not be submitted as fact while other beliefs are disregarded."
"Ms. Guide, glad to have you so passionate about tonight's event but please, there are turns."
Erlen Myer holds out his hoof to the host. "No it's quite fine. Miss Guide actually points out a huge, and in fact vital, flaw in this 'controversy' over intellectual design versus natural processes, and that is that many ponies still think science teaches students what to believe the same way some private institutions might."
Another teacher ripostes. "The private sector of educ-"
He interjects and continues. "Please allow me to finish Sir Dean. How science should be, and from my experience is, taught in public schools is by showing students the evidence, explaining how it derives our understanding of natural processes, and then performing experiments where they can predict exactly what they will see based on the information they know should be true."
The moderator thanks the speaker, turns to the other side, and allows Sir Dean to pose his question.
"Well, okay. I don't exactly agree that schools teach that way, but I'll be generous and say that it does. What, then, should the student do if he or she gets a result that's unexpected?"
The mare next to Erlen Myer, Meter Rhyme, gives her response to the question. Starlight is laughing to herself at Sir Dean's question and no pony hears.
"Then the student would simply have to dismiss what they know if, after repeated testing, the tests show a different reality. But, and I'm sorry to rain on your parade Sir Dean, that has yet to happen for our current understanding of evolution."
They go back and forth on the topic. Sir Dean claims his stance, Meter Rhyme speaks, Caller Attic Fan replies, Professor Myer ripotes.
"Private institutions are already giving students the opportunity to tap into beliefs that allows for creative thinking, not to be told that natural selection is the only way of life. And, it lets them answer the big question of why we are here."
"The question of 'why' is a metaphysical question, not science. It's perfectly appropriate to be taught in a religious studies class."
"Perhaps, but records from the Crystal Empire are a thousand years old and are unchanged due to an ancient curse. Is it not ridiculous to disregard these first hand accounts of the past as myth, even when some of them tell stories of how Harmony brought our earth into creation?"
"Mr Fan, again, science teaches critical thinking through self-checking experimentation. No evidence, at all, suggests what you say is true. It would be even more ridiculous to say the theories of Callers are as valid as tried and true understandings of evolution."
The moderator take a sip of water and calms down the debate. "Alright, lets bring it back to the topic before we go on until morning, shall we?" The audience chuckles. "Why don't we hear from some pony who hasn't spoken. Our guest debater on the defending side, Starlight, is speaking tonight on behalf of Princess Twilight."
The spotlight falls on Starlight and many in the crowd turn from the main speakers of the night to her. She clears her throat.
"What's your take on this issue? Why do you defend the way science is taught now in schools?"
She sits up straighter just a little bit. "Well, in my studies of magic I've always found magic theory to be useful in predicting what a spell will do, even if that spell has never been done before. Understanding the theory of evolution is essential in science not because of its belief, but because it teaches young students how we have been able to actively shape our world for the better."
"Starlight," Caller Attic Fan shoots out from his mouth, "what about all the science classes where students from the Crystal Empire, who are promised a healthy education abroad, are ridiculed for their beliefs based on the evidence they have read from the Crystal Library? Even you know the magic in there is true, so why deny it in the classroom?"
Starlight stares across to Caller Attic Fan. The supporting side nods their head, and Sir Dean looks at Attic Fan with a grin.
"The treatment of beliefs is a problem of conduct, Caller Fan," Starlight leans in staring across the stage but projecting herself out, the world an ear to listen. "And I would never endorse our schools to attack students for their beliefs. But we are talking about science as a way we come about knowledge and truth about nature around us."
"Truth should be a choice-" starts Miss Guide. Starlight continues.
"Let give you an example. The three pony races evolved under magical influences that make us distinctly different from our common ancestors. We've recently seen that our genome has thirty-one chromosome pairs, as opposed to recovered DNA of early modern ponies who had thirty-two."
The crowd and the debaters listen in intently.
"We know through genetics that we couldn't have lost this information, missing a pair of chromosomes would be lethal. So scientists hypothesized last year that two chromosome pairs fused with each other in telomere to telomere fusion."
The audience sits in silence and the scientists around Starlight all nod.
"And then we found the site of fusion. In our second chromosome pair, our chromosomes have telomeres in the middle where they shouldn't be, a result of fusion that may have been caused by exposure to magic."
Words don't convince well on their own. Starlight knows, and projects a visual of the chromosome from her horn. The process and site of fusion is animated.
"This is why we teach science the way we do. It lets us make predictions and find the answers, not assume that we have them to begin with. There's not wrong with faith, but we have to know how to use it in our lives when we make the pursuit of knowledge."
The debate continues on for the next half hour, but Starlight doesn't make many more comments other than to reinforce the defense with sound logic, refuting or answering doubts the challengers presented.
Starlight, as the night runs on, notices how doubts from beliefs created a discussion that promoted the truths of her side. And she wonders.
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Helping out around Fluttershy's place. New apartment, new furniture, wish you could be here.
Sunset texted back to Rainbow Dash. "I wish I could be there too," she repeated to herself.
Sunset sat in her room, snug in her pajamas and looking at her gemstone. The little nova rested on her chest as she leaned back in her chair. It was surreal, to see the colors within. On the surface it was the color of autumn wind, but as she looked closer there were little changes inside.
In the light, the impurities were stars in the evening sky, showing themselves even before the sun winked shut to go to bed. It was a galaxy between her fingers when she turned it, stars twinkling.
Holding it close to her chest felt warm, throughout her body every fiber of muscle was relaxed. What they had seen, what she and her gem both knew, turned her room into nothing.
Sunset flipped through a textbook. She, the prodigal student of what was effectively a god-queen in her time, looked at the topics with amusement. Even the effort to get a degree was a drop in the ocean compared to understanding magic.
And so she felt whole.
Her phone buzzed again. Another text from Rainbow Dash.
Pinkie showed up with pizza. Said something about meeting a guy who just showed up at her house. She also said you acted weirdly after she introduced you to him. You hiding something?
"Just a weird feeling is all," she said as she typed. She stopped, realizing Rainbow would almost certainly take it the wrong way. She tried another response.
"He gives off a weird energy. Not magic, but I still don't like it." Sunset guessed that whatever she said could have been taken the wrong way, but this didn't seem to imply anything too bad. She sent it and hoped for the best.
Hm... -_-
Sunset shook her head at Rainbow's response and tossed her phone onto her bed. She leaned back in her chair and looked up at the bare ceiling. It was heavy. Falling weights at the gym, it held Sunset like a steel vice.
"I need some fresh air." She looked at the clock by the door of her apartment. Fresh air, and an appointment.
She walked out and onto the street. She walked farther still, leaving her college campus and nearing flashing ads and street lights of the city. A beast entirely different from the suburbs around Canterlot High, though it was just driving distance away.
Cars swooshed back and forth on the streets. There were no crashes. She passed the stores as saw designer handbags and coats made of synthetic leather, all on sale. The city was a machine, its little parts scurrying around and working in perfect unison. No one was out of place.
There was a fitness center, not for people who wanted to get fit. There, people went to get better. It was free to join, everything paid for by generous donations and fundraisers. It was this place that Sunset entered where people went to cure themselves.
She walked in and entered the office by the entrance on the left; it came before the entrance to the gym. Along the wall of the office were pictures of success. Some had recovered from injuries, others from addictions. Smokers, drinkers, gamblers, they were all there. One lost a leg. Another partly paralyzed in one leg.
The manager looked at his list of names. "Sunset Shimmer? Here for the interview?"
She nodded and took a seat across the desk.
"Tell me about yourself. Why do you want to work here?"
"Well I've seen a lot of students come to my clubs for help, and whether they're at their peak or could use a little push to get in better shape, everyone comes to become better," Sunset paused, thinking about how to explain her reasons.
"But lately I've noticed some other students being a bad influence, and though no one's stated it outright, I think it's spread to some members within my motocross club."
The manager raised a brow. "Bad influence like drinking and late night parties?"
"Yeah," Sunset nodded, "and I don't want to guess what else. It's made me realize that I'm only part of a small world; beyond the walls of my friends there's still a lot of the world that I could help fix. So, I looked around and I figured this place was a good place to start."
"And why does 'Reconstructive Fitness' interest you above other charities, besides all our fitness programs," the manager asked. Sunset had asked herself that question. What convinced her that her actions were the best?
"I looked up reviews for a lot of places, and ratings from the city center as well," she gestured slightly with her hand to a plaque on the manager’s wall, and award given by the mayor of the city. "This place looks like it's genuinely committed to betterment, and has had the best results so far."
She continued and waved her hand across the photos on the wall. "Pride in each success story means you don't treat anyone less than a person, no matter how many you have to help. And believe me, I can appreciate how that feels."
The manager smiled. "Just, really quick, I want to transition to your credentials as a trainer. It says on your resume that you help coach your school's motocross and cycling clubs. Tell me more?"
Sunset smiled and nodded and talked about herself and only herself. She was glad to describe the training they did and how she motivated her team. It was like freedom, the freedom to exist in her own world.
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"Tell me again, why I'm waiting in a cave?"
So that I may be free of my task, and so that you may be free of me.
Of course. It's what she wanted, the Hunter supposed. The Card Master's world for her was a prison in memory. She relived memories however she wanted, sometimes living a good day three or four different times. But every day she looked at Ripe Apple and knew he'd be dead one day.
She had looked at her children the same, knowing they'd outgrow her, become hunters and leave their children on the farm as their own stinging legacy. Some days she relived the whole experience of raising her children without a single day of monster hunter training. None of it was her life.
What do you think? Returning to the flow of time, it can be hard for one like you.
"I'm still young for a mutant. Even if it takes a year or ten, I can get used to it," she answered. "I can't be stuck forever."
Aahh, now there's a though. Forever.
"No, no," objected the Hunter, stirring her tincture of river hemlock and venom sacs taken from alphyns, monsters resembling wolves with dragon scales and claws. "Don't start that garbage again. I'll fight for you once more but that's it. Nothing more."
Fine then. I'll just play cards against myself.
The Card Master sat himself down at the entrance of the cave, his back turned to the Tree. He let a card trickle through his body and crawl through the skin of the Princess, his host. It fluttered down onto the rocky earth. A tarot card. The lovers.
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Funny, I always thought you'd be more of a Tower.
So did I, once.
Why don't you turn around and look at me.
I am, I will. But the others are not here.
I'm impressed that you've made my beauty see our world. But you haven't been completely honest.
She knows of you already, dreaming of Caller Weaver made sure of that.
And I bet you've made her lose sleep over it too.
There is a new one.
Is that one yours, as the Princess is mine?
Nothing is ours. This is why we parted. You are too close.
And you treat everything so distant. The Tower. It's truly what you are; always trying to be the force of change, upheaval both collective and impersonal.
And you hate me for it. Funny how they see me as a creature of pure evil while they stand in your presence. The Devil card has always been your favorite.
So what of it?
You show no tact and let go of any inhibitions. You express our power as if doing so is our true nature.
It is mine!
Then your true nature knows nothing of subtlety or strategy. Your emotions and wishes and wild uncontrolled passion has blinded us, and consequently them.
There is no us. My passion has set me free. Only you struggle to follow the old structure we once limited ourselves to.
The choice is coming. The Devil may strike down The Tower, or vice versa, but Lovers we will be for the choice resides in us as one. It is a choice we must make: the choice of evolution over perfection, of personal growth through relationship, instead of a fantasy where everything falls into place perfectly and is taken care of without effort.
I will see what you have to show; your plan is nearly complete. You certainly have taken the Ace of Swords to heart. I cannot deny my Princess, but I will try to bring her mind back to this world.
I hope the denouement is to your liking, Tree. It will be to mine.