//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Heir in Name Only // Story: The Nightguard: Legacy of Star Swirl the Bearded // by BigKlingy //------------------------------// So you wanna hear the story of how I got my Cutie Mark? Well, that depends on your definition of ‘got’. If you mean to ask when it appeared, I can tell you in ten seconds flat. I got it when I was born. But if you want to know when I earned it, then sit tight, this is going to take a while. I’ll start at the beginning. Most ponies get their Cutie Marks when they discover their special talent. Me, I was born with mine. The doctors were perplexed, obviously, and tried to pass it off as some strange birthmark. But my parents knew better the moment they saw it, and if I was born 1000 years ago, I’m sure the doctors would have too. A single, white star surrounded by a swirl of ten crimson lines, each inlayed with a smaller star. That symbol had been passed down in my family for generations. My mother was born with it, and her mother before her, and her father before her… and now I’m starting to sound like an old buffalo. I’ll just cut to the chase: its original bearer. He was one of the greatest unicorns Equestria has ever known. The most important conjurer of the pre-classical era, the father of the amniomorphic spell and, sadly, only known today by self-proclaimed “eggheads”. Yes, he was Star Swirl the Bearded, and he is my ancestor. Despite his current obscurity, my family has always strived to keep his legacy alive. And so every generation, when a foal is born bearing his mark, tradition decrees they must take up his name. So it’s about time I introduced myself, I’m the latest Star Swirl, bearer of his legacy and inheritor of his magical powers. There’s just one tiny problem: I’m an Earth Pony. Or at least I think I am. I wasn’t born with a horn or wings, so what else could I be? And the strange thing is, so was my mother. And her mother before her, and her father before her. I thought it was just coincidence at first, until I got curious and searched for my family tree in the royal Canterlot library. And sure enough, my suspicions were true: despite being descended from possibly the greatest sorcerer of all time (NB: if a certain ‘Great and Powerful’ individual somehow gets hold of this, I feel obliged to say this was not meant as a personal attack in any way, shape, or form, although I know that won’t stop her from taking it as one. I should then remind her that he’s been dead for over a millennia. Nothing to get worked up over.) None of my family were unicorns but he himself. And yet his very same insignia has been passed down through the generations. It almost felt like some incredibly twisted Poison Joke prank, the kind you-know-who is famous for. So I did the only thing I could, I learned to live with it. It certainly wasn’t easy at school, I can tell you. Every first day was the same, the foals would all flock to me to admire my Cutie Mark, I’d be the most popular filly on the playground… and then the question came. “So what’s your special talent?” At first, I’d make up some kind of excuse like “I can’t show you here” or “I have homework to do, maybe later.” But I knew I could only delay the inevitable. The kids would keep asking and asking until I finally broke down: “I DON’T KNOW!” And with that, my ten minutes of fame vanished. In the next few weeks, somepony else would get theirs, except they could, you know, actually do something. Sooner or later everyone would be showing off their talents, and I’d be left alone once again. My parents would move, and it’d be new school, same routine. And so on until I finally graduated. Seeing as I didn’t have much I could really do, I never really had any lasting friendships back then. The closest I had were the times I hung out with the unicorns in high school. It was kinda nice, at first. We’d talk about magic… and then they’d go off and actually practice what they preached. It was fun to watch, but deep down it hurt knowing I could never join them, as much as I wanted to. I visited the library as often as I could and read every book of magic I could lay my hooves on, but even that only gave me a temporary happiness. My mother would always tell me she’d been through everything I had, and that just because I didn’t have a special talent didn’t mean I couldn’t be happy. After all, she kept reminding me, she’d learned to get over it, and I should too in time. “If that’s really the case”, I thought, “then why do you always make sure we get a house next to a family of unicorns every time we move?” I never told her that, of course; even an illusion of happiness doesn’t deserve to be shattered. After graduation, I was faced with the dilemma of having to find something to do with my life. With my interest in magic, I decided applying for a job as a magic historian was the way to go, though I learnt the hard way most of the top places only accept unicorns. Which is understandable, I guess. (That still doesn’t excuse the way the Blueblood Brotherhood treated me, but I’d rather not go into that here.) After a string of rejections, my options dwindled to the point where I had to consider the one place I dreaded applying for: the Royal Canterlot Library itself. I mean, come on, this is the Princess Celestia we’re talking about, there’s no way she’d accept somepony like me. And besides, if word on the street was correct, she already had all the library help she could ever need. Still, it couldn’t hurt to at least try. And I’m glad I did, because it was that one application that changed my life forever. Though not in the way I expected. A few weeks afterwards, I awoke one day and found I had received a letter in the mail. And sure enough, it bore the Royal Canterlot Seal. “Oh great”, I thought “one of those ‘ultra-formal’ rejection letters”. I continued in my best imitation of the Royal Canterlot Voice “We much appreciate your application, but we regret to inform you that, after much deliberation…” I braced myself for disappointment and opened the envelope. What I got wasn’t quite disappointment, but certainly not joy either. It was more like… bewilderment. The parchment within was midnight blue, written on in glowing silver ink. But what was most surprising was the script itself. I’d seen it before, but only in history books. In fact if I hadn’t taken those obscure dead-language studies at school I wouldn’t have been able to read it at all. (Let that be a lesson to you foals, despite what others tell you, those subjects are useful for something.) Roughly paraphrased, it said: Hear me, O Daughter of the Bearded One! If thou wishest to know the truth of thy heritage, at the stroke of midnight thou shalt meet Us at the Keep of Nightmare Moon in the Everfree Forest. Thy Friend “Okay…” I thought to myself, still mentally recovering (I swear it felt like the letter shouted at me) “that was… weird.” Of course, I was suspicious. It had been half a year since the return of Nightmare Moon and her subsequent defeat, but still, a meeting in the heart of the Everfree Forest at midnight hardly boded well. But the Royal Seal on the envelope seemed genuine, and what kind of mugger uses a script that ancient anyway? Come to think of it, what kind of pony uses that script these days? This was getting weird. Maybe I should get an escort? I heard the one they call Stare Master lived at the edge of the forest, perhaps she’d be willing to… no, there was no way I could convince her to go out at this time of night. What to do… In my pondering, I hadn’t realised I wandered into the centre of the street, and had been standing there for some time. So, naturally, the moment I finally made up my mind, somepony crashed into me. It was a perfectly normal occurrence, I’d bumped into ponies like this several times before. But this time stood out, because as far as I know most ponies don’t make a bright blue flash and an almighty CRACK when they fall. It was almost as if a bolt of lightning struck. As I raised myself from the ground, I caught my first glimpse of them; a unicorn mare, around my age, with a lemon-yellow coat and a short blue (and black in places, but that didn’t seem a natural colouring) mane. I couldn’t get a good look at her Cutie Mark because my eyes were first drawn to the heavy-looking, bronze-framed goggles she wore. They looked ill-cared-for, caked in soot and oil. And for a moment, I thought I saw something metal protruding from her right foreleg, but I thought it just my imagination at the time. “Hey!” she snapped, before I had a chance to fully rise, “Watch where you’re standing! Can’t you see I’m busy here?” “Sorry, I kinda spaced out there.” I replied as I offered her my hoof, which, to my shock, she immediately batted away. “I wouldn’t touch that hoof if I were you.” the unicorn advised, gesturing to the foreleg I noticed earlier. On closer inspection there was definitely something… different about it. She managed to stand while I was busy staring. “This may come as a surprise to you” she said, giving me the look of a schoolteacher, “but ‘spacing out’ in the middle of the street isn’t what I’d call a smart idea. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some pacing to do.” “But,” I couldn’t help but add “didn’t you say you were busy? Looks to me like you’re doing nothing.” As I saw the mare freeze in place, then double back towards me, I realized in hindsight that I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud. “Doing nothing!!” ,she yelled, “I am thinking! This is the most important thing I do! How could you possibly call that ‘doing nothing’! Why I… wait.” With that last word, the anger suddenly vanished from her face. Replacing it was a slowly widening smile. “Do… nothing… Yes. YES! That’s it! EUREKA!!!" The unicorn mare’s horn gave off a blinding glow as she yelled, naturally turning the heads of everypony in the street. Seemingly oblivious, she continued her ecstatic yelling. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of this before! If I have the machine do nothing for 60 seconds after every discharge, that’ll give it time to cool down before the next one, NO MORE EXPLODING!!” She’d now grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking me. “Thank you! Thank you miss… miss…” “Star Swirl.” I replied. “Star Swirl… Star Swirl… now where have I heard that name before…” Uh oh, I thought, this again. I’d learned to get used to it by now. “Did your grandfather…” Here it comes… “Invent the anemometer?” I sighed. “No, but you’re closer than most. Oh, I didn’t catch your…” But by the time I’d finished, she’d already ran off, saying something about having to get the machine ready before… something happened. I didn’t quite catch the rest. It took me about five minutes to catch my breath after that… surreal experience, but eventually, I finally remembered what I was thinking about. I had decided to go to this meeting in the Everfree Forest. And it was a good thing I’d finally made up my mind, it was already getting dark. From my house around the centre of Ponyville, it’d take me about half an hour to reach the forest’s edge. From there it was just a nice, calm, hour long walk straight to Nightmare Moon’s castle. If by ‘calm’, you meant, ‘fraught with constant peril’. Well, I convinced myself, if a librarian, a farmer, a dressmaker and… Pinkie Pie could do it, I could too. Probably. And so I packed my saddle bags, dusted off my old monster encyclopaedia (just in case), and set off. If only I knew where I’d actually be going that night, I would have packed a lot more than that. Not to mention written my will. But I’ll get to that later. Along the way, I passed by a small cottage around the edge of Ponyville, not far from the Apples’ Orchard. I recognised the place; I’d been there many times when I was just a filly. Everypony I knew would come here and line up for a taste of the best honey in town. I couldn’t help but stop for a moment. The rows of beehives in the yard, the flower garden I was sternly warned not to touch back then, the place even smelt the same way it used to. “No time to be reminiscing.” I told myself “I’ve got a meeting to get to and…” “I absolutely can’t be late!”, exclaimed a voice, and it wasn’t mine. As I turned, I noticed an earth pony with an orange coat and familiar bee Cutie Mark had come hurrying up the garden path. She seemed to notice me too, but didn’t so much as glance in my direction. “Sorry Star Swirl”, I heard her say as she ran, “I’d love to talk, but I simply don’t have the time. In fact, I don’t even have the time to tell you I don’t have the time to talk to you. Oops, I just did. And I did it again. And again and… I’m losing precious time!!” She’d reached the hives and dropped a crate on the ground with a crash, from which she started hastily unloading glass jars. I sensed I should probably just leave, but my curiosity held me back. “Just one thing”, I began “why exactly are you gathering honey at this time of night?” “I appreciate your concern, dear, but it’s really alright. Baltimare just doubled next week’s order, so I really have to get it ready by tomorrow.” “Oh, okay”, I replied, preparing to leave, until I realised her answer posed even more questions. “Wait a minute. Why is it so important you get next week’s shipment ready tonight?” The mare turned her head for the first time and gave me an ‘isn’t it obvious’ look. Once she realised it wasn’t, she sighed and launched into a rapid-fire explanation: “Well, you see, tomorrow is market day, so I’ll be in town the whole time. The day after I have to meet with Granny Smith to discuss preparations for the next Zap Apple harvest. The day after that I’m giving a presentation at the school on the importance of beekeeping in today’s society. Saturday I have to babysit my sister’s newborn foal and Sunday I need to inspect the flowers in the Canterlot gardens to check they’re appropriate for the social gathering, as well as the flowers in the food stores to check they’re safe for lunch. Which, trust me dear, is very important if we don’t want a repeat of the infamous Poison Joke sandwich incident that happened last year. By then Baltimare will want their shipment, which unfortunately would cut into my scheduled rest time if I did it then, so naturally the only time I have free to do it is right now. Time that is fast running out so if you don’t mind I’d like to get back to…” “But…” I interjected the moment my brain switched itself back on, “shouldn’t there be other things on your schedule like, oh, I don’t know, sleeping?” “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her.” I was surprised to hear another pony’s voice coming from behind the shed. This one was noticeably quieter and calmer. Not long afterwards, I saw it belonged to a lavender-coated Pegasus, her long golden mane tangled in locks. She swooped down silently to land beside her friend, in a manoeuvre whose elegance wouldn’t have looked out of place on a stage. “Bumblesweet”, she said to the one still unpacking, “I know you like to play your part in the community and all, but shouldn’t you leave yourself just a little time to relax?” “Ah!”, I felt the need to intrude into the conversation, “you’re Bumblesweet, of course! Sorry, I nearly mistook you for Honeybuzz.” “Oh don’t make anything of it dear”, she replied while screwing on the lid of another jar, “I’ve been getting that a lot ever since my twin sister moved to Manehatten. It’s been hard without her around. But you can rest assured her absence will not affect production, I’ve been pulling double shifts since she left.” “You don’t say…”, I replied dryly. “And that’s the problem”, added the pegasus, “you just don’t get out anymore. Have you ever done anything, you know, fun lately?” “Well, there was that gardening convention last month.” The earth pony replied. “Which you were hosting.”, the pegasus clarified. “And what of it? Who says work can’t be fun too?” “I agree Bumblesweet, I really do, but you need to learn to balance things.” “So,” I began to ask the pegasus, “is she like this all the time?” “Mostly”, she said. “You know we were supposed to go on a picnic together? I think that was about… yes, three months ago and, oh, I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Is this a friend of yours, Bumblesweet?” “Well… kind of”, I said, “I’m…” “Star Swirl, Lilly Blossom. Lilly Blossom, Star Swirl. Now if you two want to keep talking could you please find somewhere else? As you can no doubt see, I’m… Oh sweet Celestia is that the time!? I’m sorry, really I am, but I must get back to my work. I think I’m next free three weeks from now, how about we catch up then, okay?” I gave a nod of agreement and began to turn. “Ooh, Ooh!”, squealed the pegasus earlier identified as Lilly Blossom, “maybe the three of us could all go on a picnic together! Wouldn’t that be the best?” But by that time, I had set off once again. It had dawned upon me that I, too, had a schedule to keep. And as nice as it was, I had no time to stay and chat either. I left the cottage, the garden and the pair behind me and hurried to the forest’s edge. I’ll spare you the recount of my first trek through the forest, no doubt you’ve already heard many such tales. And nothing particularly strange happened on the way to the ruins. Which, in itself, was strange. I thought I heard rustling and heavy breathing behind me at one point, but it must have been my imagination, as it soon vanished. Finally, I arrived at the ruined keep. I just hoped I hadn’t kept… whoever it was… waiting. I’d read about the place in history books, so I knew the layout well, as well as I knew the best place for a meeting would be the old throne room. Determined, yet still fearful, I entered to find… Nothing, and nopony. “Hello? Is anypony there?” My voice echoed through the hall. No answer. I must be early, I thought to myself. Or they must be late. Or… there was a third possibility of course, but I tried not to think about it. Still, the long silence was giving me the creeps. Maybe I should just… CRASH! Almost as if in response, the defining roar and blinding flash of lightning filled the room. Another soon followed, the eerie blue glow flowing through what remained of the stained glass windows. My mind wanted to run, but my body remained frozen in place. Shivering, I watched as a shadowy figure descended from the skies on ebony wings, her mane a perfect image of the midnight sky, billowing as if blown by an invisible wind. It was all too much. I clung to the floor and buried my head in my hooves. “BEHOLD! Thy Princess of the Night HATH ARRIVED!” The figure’s voice made the lightning seem like a whimper by comparison. I moved to cover my ears, but resisted. If I moved my forelegs away from my face, she was sure to notice… “Child of Magic! Wherefore doth thou hide?” Too late. “Thou needst not be afraid. This is the traditional Royal Canterlot Entrance. It is tradition for a Princess TO ANNOUNCE HERSELF IN THIS MANNER!!” Those last words were accompanied by another lightning flash and a dramatic pose. What her previous words were to lightning, these were to a volcanic eruption. Still reeling from the assault on my ears, my lips managed a single muffled utterance. “N…Nightmare… Moon?” “We have forsaken that title long ago” , she said, her voice taking on an altogether different tone, almost mournful, “though Our subjects oft fail to realize.” “Princess Luna…?” “She.” Luna approached me and held out her hoof. But as her voice was suddenly booming once again, I couldn’t help but recoil. Had I known then just how my behaviour was offending her, I would have endeavoured to improve. But you have to realize: at that time, Nightmare Moon was still firmly ingrained in the public eye as a diabolical cannibal overlord who once threatened the entire world with destruction. Naturally I feared her at first. But as she continued to speak I slowly realized, just as others did that fateful Nightmare Night, that there can’t have been any truth to those legends. “So,” I began “you… sent me that letter?” “Indeed. We heard of your plight from our sister, and have decided to aid you.” Did that mean… my application made it all the way to Celestia herself? That can’t have been good, I hastily wrote that thing knowing I would never get in. No doubt I’d become the laughing stock of Canterlot by now. Now nopony would ever want to hire me… But now wasn’t the time to think of my career prospects. I had more pressing questions on my mind. “But princess, why me? And, why you?” “Dost thou not see?” she roared again “Thy ancestor was Star Swirl the Bearded, was he not?” “Yes. But how do you…” “Star Swirl the Beared was a good friend of ours, in an age long past.” “You mean you knew him?”, I said, and should have stopped there, but I got ahead of myself “Wow, I knew you princesses were immortal, but I never realised you were that old…” Luna shot me a sharp glare. I apologised. When I thought about it though, it did make sense. How else could she tell who my ancestor was at a glance, in a time when his name had long faded into obscurity? I continued. “In your letter, you said you wanted to tell me ‘the truth about my heritage’, or something. What did you mean?” “We mean that we are among the few who know the true story of Star Swirl the Bearded, and so we have graced thee with our presence to tell it to thee! But this tale” , she added “is for thine ears only! And thus we have summoned thee to the heart of this forest… SO WE ARE NOT OVERHEARED!!!!!!” The stones of the hall rumbled, the one intact stained glass window was instantly shattered, and I swore I could hear the groan of a hibernating Ursa Major waking up. “Umm, excuse me, but could you maybe keep your voice down for just a moment.” “But this is the traditional Royal Canterlot…” “Yes, I know, but we’re not exactly in Canterlot now, are we.” Luna looked at me for a moment, then gave a heavy sigh. “Forgive us, we have not set foot in this kingdom for many years and we are still… getting used to its present customs. Will this do?” Her voice would still be considered shouting by normal standards, but compared to before it was certainly an improvement. “Go on.”, I said. “We shall”, she replied, “but art thou certain thou art ready to hear what we have to say?” The ominous warning caught me off guard. But I told her yes, I was. “Very well. THE TRUE…!” she stopped herself. “I mean, the true story of Star Swirl the Bearded.”