Mystic clenched his quill, dipped it, and brought it over to a green notepad. His brow furrowed when a blob of ink dripped onto the page, but he quickly added a second, neater dot, forming a slightly misshapen colon. His jaw ached while he scratched out new words.
Potential Alicorn Subject: Cadenza
A soft coo drew his attention to the simple crib next to the table that held his writing materials. It wasn’t a new sound to him, but every time it was made, both he and Cumulus froze and waited for silence to return to the medical cubicle.
Taking the quill out of his mouth, Mystic scooted closer to the crib and looked down at its inhabitant. The foal’s amethyst eyes drifted around, taking in the white ceiling and walls around her. Her infant wings twitched every few seconds; all other movement was restrained or hidden by swaddling cloths. Mystic watched them skim across the crib’s bedding until they folded and disappeared beneath the rest of the foal. Slowly, his attention moved upwards, past the foal’s wandering eyes and stopped at the nub resting in the center of her forehead.
Glancing down at the scribbles that filled the page, he beckoned Cumulus over. “Would you mind writing the notes? I’m going to recheck some vitals and her wings, but I want legible recordings this time.”
Cumulus nodded and took up the quill as Mystic backed away from the desk and carefully leaned over the crib. His hooves tenderly reached down and undid the pin that held the swaddling together, freeing foal’s legs and showing off her pink coat. Only two spots differed in color: a small tuft of yellow, purple and magenta hair above her horn and a white patch of gauze atop her stomach.
“Eight hours after birth and subject is exhibiting the same behaviour as a normal foal,” said Mystic. “Visual observation reveals that eyes are receptive and limbs, including wings, are mobile. Removal of umbilical cord is healing at a normal rate. Subject has not rejected its mother’s milk. Now moving on to the second test of pulmonary and cardiovascular functions.”
Allowing Cumulus a brief pause to finish jotting down the report, Mystic reached across the table and grabbed a stethoscope. He fumbled for a moment getting the buds in his ears, but eventually succeeded and gently placed the instrument onto the foal’s chest. Her eyes ceased moving around and locked onto the straight line of Mystic’s lips as she let out a small squeal.
Mystic perked up his ears and intently listened to the sounds resonating from the scope: the inflation of tiny lungs, followed by the gentle wheeze that came with their deflation, and the faint thump of a new heart steadily beating away in the background. Scooting the scope to the upper left of the foal’s chest shifted the background pulse to the forefront. The rhythmic beat rang through her ribs and up to the stethoscope's buds. Mystic’s world boiled down to the solitary noise as he mentally ticked off each bump that ran through his ears.
While this cycle continued, the foal’s lips trembled and she let out a tiny whimper. The tiny hairs on her chest stood up and goosebumps spread out from where the scope pressed into her skin. Her whole body shuddered with each breath, her eyes widening more and more with tears glistening in them.
Finally, Mystic removed the intrusive instrument, and, taking out the buds, said, “Heart rate and breathing slightly accelerated but otherwise normal.”
Then his hooves went down again and flipped her onto her stomach. He gently pinned her left wing to the crib, and she gave a shrill cry, tears tumbling onto the bedding while her legs uselessly flailed beneath her. Folding his ears down, he placed his head close to to the wing while running a hoof across the miniscule feathers she’d had since her birth. They brushed against it like unspun cotton, their texture raw and undefined.
“Feathers are now fully dry and resemble normal pegasus foal plumage,” he reported.
Mystic wiped away some of the sweat from his brow before stepping back, taking a sniff of the air around him. Alongside the faint smell of lemon sanitizer, he noted the fraction of sunlight that slipped in under the door, casting a faint glow on the blank walls. The artificial breeze of the air conditioning cooled the sweat that soaked into parts of his jacket, causing a shiver to run up his body. With a heavy sigh, he shifted out of the damp coat in silence, leaving it dangling over the edge of the table. Eyes drifting back down to the crib, he gestured over to the exit, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Cumulus, get over to the door. It’s time to check magic levels.”
“Sir, can’t this wait? The squad could transport her to a safer location.”
“I’m not a ‘sir’ here,” Mystic spat, his gaze not moving an inch from the crib. The veins beneath his temples pulsated while sweat collected around his horn. “Follow your orders, sergeant. Observe. Record. Report.”
Face draining of color, Cumulus clasped the writing materials before edging towards the exit, transfixed on the crib. He mechanically set them down on a spare chair when a drop of sweat spilled into his right eye, forcing him to blink. Rubbing his face, he glanced at Mystic.
Mystic ignited his horn and glanced at the room’s clock. “Time is now fourteen hundred and twenty-six hours. This is the first recorded test of a potential alicorn foal’s magic capabilities. A simple gauge spell will be applied to get a rough estimate. It is the only exposure the subject has had to unicorn magic.”
Bringing his legs down into the crib, Mystic flipped the foal back over. Every muscle in his body tightened, his limbs weighed down with an invisible pressure. Slicing through the thick air, his horn pushed down closer and closer to the foal’s head. Its cool blue glow drew her eyes up to it and filled them with a reflective light.
Mystic studied the way his magic shimmered in them, aware that the clock had either stopped ticking or that his ears simply refused to hear it. The foal lightly gurgled and blinked. Closing his eyes, Mystic lightly touched the tiny pink nub atop her head.
The teal glimmer vanished in an instant. A bolt of lightning sizzled out of the foal’s horn and arced past Mystic’s face and into the air, dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. Mane now fizzling with static, he jumped back from the crib with his heart caught in his throat and his breathing sped to a maddening pace.
“Cumulus!” he screamed. “Get out now!”
Cumulus spread his wings and darted out of the room. Mystic’s magic surged from his horn and enveloped the area around him and the crib in a transparent teal bubble. At the same time, a fuchsia sphere materialized around the crib, cloaking the foal in its luminous glow.
Mystic steadied his breathing, but his heart still pounded away. Clenching his jaw, he sent up barrier after barrier around the room until all he could see was blue. The magic in the center of all this expanded outward until it inevitably clashed with Mystic’s shield. More supernatural lightning ripped through the small space, but the sphere didn’t budge beyond the defensive spells.
Okay, it’s contained. Now I ne—
The psychic orb turned a blazing neon rose and exploded into a blinding flash. Mystic cursed as he ducked and the magic washed over him, turning everything white. Effectively blind, he groped around and felt the floor still beneath him. Slowly, the world came back to him and he looked around. Nothing was upturned and no glass was shattered. The only sign of disarray was a flipped over notebook and a dripping quill on the floor. A brief sniff revealed that the room even still contained the faint sanitizer scent.
A sniffle stiffened Mystic’s ears and dragged his gaze back to the crib. Creaking upright, he inched over to it, heartbeat drumming in his head. At the crib’s threshold, he dared to look down and was met with the foal lightly whimpering and her limbs squirming against the bedding.
“Oh, thank the sta—” His head jerked up. “Cumulus!”
Jolting away from the crib, Mystic galloped over to the door and flung it open. The hallway’s sunlight temporarily blinded him again, but he barreled forward. The next thing he felt was Cumulus’s body slamming into his own, and the two tumbled down in a mesh of limbs.
“S-sir!?” Cumulus gagged with a blue leg pressed against his neck. His right foreleg whipped around and swiftly freed his other foreleg before removing Mystic’s leg from his neck, easing his breathing. His attention moved down to the twisted mess his lower body formed with Mystic and he tried to scoot out of the tangle, but found his waist tied to two of Mystic's limbs.
“Here, let me try and help,” Mystic coughed.
He tried loosen himself, flexing up a hindleg and trying to uncoil it from one of Cumulus’s, which garnered him a sharp jab in the stomach. Retracting his leg back to it’s original position, he let the pain fade and loosened his muscles, allowing Cumulus to shift his body around, twisting joints back into place while trying to contain a few pained gasps.
Finally, Cumulus managed to pull himself off of Mystic and the two let out relieved sighs. Slowly rising up from the ground, Mystic ran a hoof through his mane and coat, futilely trying to smooth out the worst of their cowlicks and matted areas.
“Sir, is… is everything alright?” Cumulus huffed. “I saw it getting brighter an—”
“It was nothing,” said Mystic, taking a second to glance over his and Cumulus’s bodies. “She only managed to pull off a light spell, albeit a large one. You saw nothing other than the light, correct?”
“Nothing.”
Mystic’s eyes narrowed. In return, Cumulus turned his head down further, a faint tint of red rising to his cheeks. One of his hooves drew jittery circles against the ground, occasionally tapping against the hard surface. A small tremor went through his wings, unsettling a few of the smaller feathers.
“Cumulus, don’t make me order you. What is it?”
“I…” Cumulus rubbed his left temple, his blush deepening. “This is ridiculous, but now I can’t stop thinking about the dinner I was gonna have with Moonbeam tomorrow.”
“Moonbeam?” Mystic asked with a raised eyebrow.
“My, uh, marefriend. It wasn’t even anything special, just a nice dinner at her place with those good homemade rolls she makes, that amazing pasta she knows I love, and for dessert, so—”
“Alright, alright,” Mystic huffed, turning back into the room. “A possible newborn alicorn and we’re discussing your love life.”
Bending down, Mystic cleaned up his writing materials before pulling out two chairs for himself and Cumulus, heaving himself into one of them, and letting his body meld into the seat. Cumulus was quiet for a moment, settling into his chair and glancing at the crib.
“It doesn’t sound like that was a light spell anymore,” he whispered.
“I think we were actually hit with a disorientation spell. At least, I can hypothesize that from what you said.” Mystic pressed a hoof into his left cheek. “But spells of that type shouldn’t be possible for a foal.”
“Are you sure?” Cumulus scratched his neck and glanced at the crib. “Back in the academy, the unicorn cadets would always joke about what a pain they were as foals. Anti-gravity, full body levitation, intangibility... I didn’t believe it until I actually talked with their parents.”
“Notice how those things were physical feats though? All recorded foal magic only affects matter. To them, magic is just another muscle that is accommodating itself to the world. It’s the equivalent of a pegasus foal hovering.” Mystic clasped his chin and stared Cumulus straight in the face. “Anything that affects the mind needs a focus— a clear emotion or goal set in place. Even young mares and stallions can have a difficult time utilizing such spells. A foal can’t even grasp emotions, let alone manipulate them.”
“So…” Cumulus brought his hooves together and stared down at them. “What do we do then?”
“I wanted to conduct a few more tests, but not if it means risking another surge like that or worse.” A rolled up scroll floated over to the spot between himself and Cumulus. He glared at the piece of parchment for a few moments and then sunk deeper into his chair, his face sagging along with the rest of his body. “As much as it would have hurt her parents, I’d have rather sent the other letter. At least disabled ponies have a plethora of resources to cater to them.”
“You had both letters written already?”
The scroll burst blue flames, trailed out into the adjacent hallway, and slipped through a window. Mystic watched it vanish into the sky outside the hospital, his lips pulled into a tight line as he pushed off the chair and placed it back where he’d taken it from. Cumulus hastily did the same and straightened himself while Mystic tried once more to smooth out the wilder parts of his mane.
“I considered all the possibilities…” he said, face losing a bit a color. “Facing them in reality is a different matter.”
The two of them stood still and waited. It was quiet enough that the foal’s breathing provided a second clock to the room, each breath noting a few more seconds gone by. Mystic and Cumulus traded glances as time ticked away, the former rubbing away a slight ache in a knee and the later scratching at his neck again.
After two minutes, Cumulus’s mouth cracked open. “Should w—”
A scintillation of light from the hallway silenced him, drawing itself into a solid shape as he and Cumulus both quickly threw their gaze onto the floor and then listened to metal horseshoes lightly click against the ground, drawing closer and closer with every heartbeat. Mystic’s stomach clenched up, his heart thudding against his chest and shaking loose a few beads of sweat. Still, he kept his eyes to the floor; at the sight of hooves they widened and his breath came to a halt.
Only when his body pressed next to her marble chest did he realize that a majestic white wing, far softer than even the most delicate of clouds, had guided him into the mare’s embrace. Even with such a light push, his head sunk into into her pristine fur, warmth washing over his muzzle and spreading throughout his body as an ever-present lilac scent filled his nose. Gold, warm as the mare herself, touched Mystic’s chin and pulled his sight up to two dazzling magenta eyes.
“Oh, don’t look so nervous, my faithful student.”
~~~
Aria’s eyes narrowed at the pale blue muzzle that had entered her room. Disengaging herself from Willow, she crossed both forelegs over her chest and glared at its owner. “Doctor, I’m not in the mood for any mor—”
The beige carriage he pulled in left the rest of Aria’s complaint lodged in her throat. Her legs fell to her sides, lips quivering as the sheets covering her body rapidly rose and fell along with her chest. Willow shifted between staring at the carriage and the stone wall of Mystic’s face. His jaw flapped up and down, only managing to produce a few weak consonants intermixed with fluctuating breaths.
The squeak of the carriage’s tiny wheels echoed across the room, followed by the harsh stomp of the Mystic’s hooves, sending goosebumps up across Aria’s skin. He seemed to grow bigger with each step until he loomed over the bed like a great beast. In the pungent silence, his glassy eyes drifted down to the carriage’s inner bedding.
Trembling, Aria stretched over to the carriage, Willow so close to her side that she could feel his shallow breaths on her face. Cresting over the beige fabric, she found herself staring down at a soft blue bundle of cloth. Nestled within it was a slumbering foal, its pink head with its tiny nub of a horn the only part of it not hidden beneath a layer of swaddling.
Aria’s legs shot off the bed in a blur, but Mystic stepped in front of the carriage, raising up a foreleg in defense. He let out a small gasp as the force of the lunge pressed into him, but otherwise remained unphased. Grinding her hooves into his leg, Aria scowled at him and gave a sharp snort.
“Move,” she ordered.
“Not yet,” Mystic tried to say in as firm a tone as possible, though his voice peaked on the last syllable. Retracting his leg and coughing into it, he broke away from Aria’s gaze and straightened his posture. “There are some things that I must discuss with you first.”
“Anything,” said Willow as he craned his head over the bed to get closer to the carriage. “Just hurry, please. We can’t do this anymore.”
“First…” Mystic bent his head down with enough speed and force that he ruffled the nearby bedsheets. Mane now obscuring his face, words spilled out his mouth in quick succession. “I deeply apologize for the questioning I put you both through.”
Biting his lip, Willow dug his hooves into the bed’s sides, producing a few small creaks. “It was to help Cadenza.”
Keeping his head lowered, Mystic held a pause long enough for it to turn pungent. “That’s why I must make a second apology. I haven’t been honest in saying your daughter had a defect.”
“You mean she’s fine?” Willow seethed. His forehooves raced towards Mystic’s neck, but Aria grabbed him and forced them down. Huffing, he scowled and sank back over to his side of the bed. Aria patted Willow’s legs and then brought a hoof over to Mystic’s chin. A forceful yank up brought him face-to-face with her frigid glare.
“Everything,” she said. “Now.”
With a loud gulp, Mystic raised his legs up and rested them on the sides of the carriage. “Your daughter does not have anything medically wrong with her and shows all the signs of healthy newborn foal. But the issue is that she is subject to an incredibly rare condition only known to have occurred to one other pony in all reliable history.”
Without pause, he slipped the pin off of the swaddling and let it fall away. Stripped of the cloth, Cadenza awoke with a sharp cry, uselessly flapping her wings against the carriage’s bedding in an attempt to get off her back. Willow’s nostrils flared with a sharp intake of breath while Aria stared down, soundless mutters tumbling out of her mouth. Under the florescent light, her eyes remained locked on her child, until a blink forced them closed. When they opened again, she stopped muttering and craned her body closer to the carriage.
“I know you must have questions,” said Mystic, “but let me explain. Your daughter is the first known alic—”
“Can I take her now?” Aria asked.
“You… I…” Mystic sighed. “There are things we need to discu—”
“Later,” Aria replied, her voice taut. “Don’t block me this time.”
Sweat dampened Mystic’s face, sticking a few strands of his mane to his forehead. “B-but the impact of this…”
“Move.”
Mystic clamped his mouth shut and moved aside, allowing Aria to snap up Cadenza from the carriage and place her across her chest. Her speed evaporated as she slowly sunk back into the bed’s indents, cradling Cadenza and forth, lessing her cries. With wet eyes and a smile, she lowered her head, placing her forehead next to her daughter’s and allowing a few tears to fall onto the newborn’s face.
“Oh, Cadenza,” Aria lightly squeezed her child closer to her. I’m so glad you’re okay. “You’re okay.”
“Aria… we… I…” Willow stuttered.
A tiny whimper silenced him. Sniffling, he pulled himself across the bed, wrapping both her and Aria in a soft hug. His ears twitched and brushed against Aria’s mane at the cries, but he just bent down and placed himself closer to Cadenza. One of his hooves lightly went over her red cheeks and tousled her tiny mane.
After a moment, he managed to break his head away from the embrace. Wiping the moisture from his face, he looked to Mystic. “Doctor, what do we do now? This, I mean, wings and a horn… I… I can’t even talk.”
Mystic turned and faced the window, the late afternoon sun reflecting across his eyes. Tiny bits of dust, illuminated by the light, swirled around him, scattering with each breath that escaped his lips. Pulled into a frown that quivered at the corners of his mouth, they were unrecognizable from the stoic line he’d held when they’d first met.
“I can’t be sure,” he finally answered. “I have nothing outside of basic medical training for regular foals.”
“Then what do we do? Where do we go?” Aria asked, nibbling on her lip.
A slosh of liquid drew everypony’s attention to the door as a kettle floated in along with four cups. They heralded the entrance first of a luscious mane composed of multiple rich colors that drifted of its own accord, gracefully ignorant of gravity. Next came the mare herself, her coat a white so pure that the hospital walls appeared gray and faded next to her. Radiant wings, elegantly curved to match her slender frame, rested at her sides, reaching all the way from her bejeweled necklace to the immaculate glowing sun on her flanks.
“The castle does have quite a few empty rooms,” she suggested.
Willow swung his head down, slamming into the bed’s edge and sending a tremor through it. Stumbling backwards, he clasped his swelling nose while forcing back a pained cry. Aria twisted back and forth between her husband and the Princess until Cadenza gave a harsh wail, changing Aria’s face from pink to bright red. Feeling her face burning, she pulled Cadenza over her shoulder and gave her a gentle rub in between her wings.
“Oh, no, no,” said Aria. “I must look like a mess, and Willow needs ice, and Cadenza is a—”
“Calm yourselves.” Celestia’s words drifted across the room like a breeze, perking up everypony’s ears. Willow stopped stumbling around and Aria closed her mouth. The only sound left in the room was Cadenza's bawls.
“Princess!” Twisting away from the window, Mystic galloped over to the Celestia. Coat slick from perspiration, he looked up to her. “You promised you’d wait.”
“It didn’t feel right waiting when I could hear the crying all the way down the hall,” she replied before turning her attention to Willow and the rapidly reddening bump on his face. “That’s one of the more memorable bows I’ve seen.”
A flash from Celestia’s horn and a fresh ice pack floated over to Willow, who tepidly grabbed it and affixed it to his nose. She slipped into the room with the kettle and cups in tow and set them down on the small stand next to Aria’s bed. Another flash and three chairs appeared around the bed. Celestia gracefully took her seat while her magic filled up the cups with tea and sent them over to Willow, Mystic and herself, leaving the fourth cup on the stand for Aria.
“P-princess?” Willow stuttered before prostrating himself before her, legs quaking all the way to the ground. ”P-lease, it… it’s not my place to ask, but please help our daughter.”
“I wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case,” Celestia replied, pausing to blow on her tea before bringing the cup up to her lips. Silently taking a gulp, she smiled, warmth radiating off her and filling the room. “Ah, this is quite a delicious blend, and the emissaries said it was good for mothers as well. Although, sitting down makes it much easier to drink.”
Mystic filled his seat with a sigh, but Willow found himself caught between taking the tea still floating in above him first or getting up and into a seat. Something pressed into his hindlegs, a twist of his head revealing that a chair was slightly nudging him with the aid of a faint golden glimmer. Carefully descending down into it, he reached out and took the cup, spilling a few drops onto his coat.
Cadenza still hadn’t stopped crying, drawing Celestia’s gaze. Aria continually patted her back, but she refused to stop bawling, dampening Aria’s shoulder with hot tears.
“Perhaps I should make this quick. I think we’ve put you through enough today as it is.” Celestia took a sip from her tea before speaking again. “While your daughter’s magic is a concern, the far greater issue is with what will happen once other ponies find out about her. The media frenzy would be too much to deal with without barriers in place. I want to provide you all with such protection.”
“For how long?” asked Aria.
“Until her magic is controllable at least,” Celestia replied. “After that, things become much more manageable.”
Aria’s hold on Cadenza tightened. “If it will keep Cadenza safe. That’s all we want.”
“Excellent.” Celestia swallowed the rest of her tea and stood up. Her chair dissipated into the air, and she spun over to the door. “I will ensure that all of your belongings are moved to the castle. Do not worry, I shall have top ponies on the job to make sure it is a safe environment for a foal.” She lifted a leg to walk to the door, but paused. “By the way, you should probably have the tea before it gets cold.”
“I’m sorry, Princess. I’ve been trying, but...” Aria’s lips slightly drooped. A tiny spark fizzled out of her horn, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “Nothing.”
“Hmm.” Celestia clasped her chin, eyes fogging up for an instant. “We’ll have to monitor that. It may be a side effect of the birth. For now though, you deserve some time with your foal.”
With that, Celestia gave Aria a slight nod and then trotted out of the room. Mystic slid out of his chair and followed, but came to a stop at the door and glanced back at Willow.
“And sorry about your head,” he mumbled. “One of the nurses had a lapse in judgement.”
Before Willow could respond, the door closed and the only sound now was Cadenza’s bawling. Alone, Aria and Willow stared at each other, looked down at Cadenza, and then locked eyes again. Almost on queue, Aria sunk deeper into her bed while Willow melted into his chair. Both of their ears flopped against the sides of their heads, and Willow’s wings similarly sagged to the ground.
He placed a free leg on his chest; it twitched slightly against the beat of his heart. “That really just happened, didn’t it?”
Aria listlessly gazed up to the ceiling through stray strands of mane, her hooves still caressing Cadenza while every other part of her melded into the bed. Her bones and muscles ached and she could barely keep her eyes open now.
“I think so…”, she said.
“Aria…” Willow’s leg tensed up around her shoulder. His muzzle pointed down to the ground as if there was a message scribbled on the floor. “This… this all seems too big. We have to move to the castle. The castle. Cadenza has magic we don’t understand, and a million other things that don’t make sense, a—”
Another sharp cry made him pause. Drifting down from Aria’s shoulder, his hoof gently swept over Cadenza’s tuft of a mane, which only made her shriek louder. He snapped his hoof back to his side liked he’d touched fire before he let it fall to his side. With a great heave, he slumped further into his chair, his sunken eyes meeting Aria’s. She reached out and clasped Willow’s shoulder the same way he’d held hers, managing to lift her lips into the smallest of smiles.
“Let's just deal with things we knew we’d have to do,” she said.
“Yes…” Bringing a hoof up to Aria’s leg, he gently caressed it as a weak smile came to his face as well. “Yes.”
Holding Cadenza softly against her chest, Aria slowed her breathing to a controlled pace that lightly nudged Cadenza back and forth. A tune, delicate and ethereal like the whispering a wind passed from Aria’s lips. Swaying her body along to her namesake, what she sang was more than notes but less than words, a mysterious yet comforting aura attached to each syllable.
Willow slipped back into his chair, a few more tears trickling down his face as he listened to the melody. He continued to tenderly stroke her leg while his head bent low, the shadows around his eyes growing deeper with each passing moment.
Hearing the soothing tune, Cadenza’s cries grew softer. Her wings ceased flailing and began to flutter against Aria’s coat, gently sweeping over the unkempt fur. Like Willow, her head, grew heavy with sleep, bumping against Aria’s chest, and she let out a small, content coo before nodding off to sleep.
However, Aria did not stop singing, even as fresh streaks of tears spilled down her cheeks, her voice retained an unwavering tone and her body only moved only in accordance to the lullaby’s rhythm. Her pitch crested and curved, calling forth vague images that could never be described and finally solidifying to a lingering lyric like the final toll of a bell that echoed across the room. As the last of the melody faded into silence, she turned to Willow, his eyes just barely open.
“I think she liked it,” she sniffled.
With a huff, Willow freed himself from the chair. He slowly stumbled over to the bed once more and brought Aria into a hug, careful not to disturb Cadenza. His nuzzle brushed against Aria’s, absorbing some of the moisture. In silence, the two of them looked down at their slumbering daughter, small smiles on their faces. Yet, they both felt each other’s heart pounding in their chests.