//------------------------------//
// Prologue 
// Story: Fields of Thyme 
// by WizardsGirl 
//------------------------------//


Prologue


Harry Potter was tired.
He was tired of the Wizarding World and its fickle nature.
Tired of the demands he do this or that or marry him or her.
Tired of watching all those around him grow old while he stayed young, of watching them marry and have children or get good jobs, while he remained stagnant, unable to settle with anyone in fear of manipulation or out-living both them and whatever children they had. 
Tired of being alone, but for the shadowy figure that constantly stalked his steps, like a particularly smug cat.
"Come now, Dearest," said figure whispered in the cold winter air (it was always strongest in winter and fall, when the world around them was dying, weakest in spring and summer when new life rose and came into being). "Thou dost not think so little of this one, dost thou? Truly?"  Silk-soft fingers trailed lightly across his sharp cheekbone, leaving a numbness that had nothing to do with the cold, the cells and flesh blackening briefly as it died, before the blackness faded and his skin was once more icy pale with the barest tinge of pink from the cold wind. Harry hunched his shoulders and continued to walk through the Muggle Park, moving towards the small pond and his favorite bench.
"Leave me be, Marwolaeth," he murmured, the Welsh word falling softly off his tongue; the shadow chuckled, the sound a mixture of rattling bones and the fall of grave dirt onto a coffin.
"If only it were so simply, Dearest,"  she murmured to him under the skittering sound of dead leaves blown across the sidewalk. Harry bit back a sigh, and gingerly sat himself down on the bench, ignoring the sharp, cold feeling of the chilled metal. The spectre stood behind him, arms settling around his chest, head nestling onto his shoulder as the thin wispy shadows of hair trailed opposite of the wind, caressing his face and leaving numbness behind, her barely-there presence making his heart falter, his lungs grasp desperately for air, even as he closed his eyes and gave a tired sigh.
"What do you want, then?" He asked wearily, opening his eyes halfway. From the very edge of his vision, he could barely make out her bone-white, skeletal face, the pale strands of her hair, like spider webs spun from bits of ice, flowed towards him as the blank, black sockets, filled deeply with the cries and whispers of the dead, were locked on his face, a gruesome smile stretching across her face and exposing her blackened, piranha-like teeth.
"This one dost only wish to please thee, Dearest,"  she whispered, mouth unmoving, the briefest whiff of rot and freshly-turned earth sliding through the air.
"And what do you think would please me now, Marwolaeth? It better not be another undying harem made up of the souls of warrior women and men, again," he added, narrowing his eyes as he stared forward, watching the morbid grin on the spectre's face widen inhumanely, giving her the appearance of a skull. "I've told you before, carnal delights aren't to my fancy."
"Nay, 'tis not a harem, Dearest," she replied, the edge of amusement falling softly on his ears, like an unending slumber at the end of ones life. "But this one hast decided that Dearest could do with a traveling holiday, and this one knows of many lands in which Dearest may settle for a life, in many different worlds and realms." Harry blinked, and resisted the urge to look at the spectre, knowing that doing so would cause an unholy amount of agony in his head, and stop his heart for fifteen minutes, before it painfully restarted like the most atrocious of heartburns to ever exist.
"A holiday," he murmured quietly to himself, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "In a different world...?" The spectre nodded, neck cracking like a broken bone and shattering glass.
"Indeed, Dearest," she whispered seductively against his mind, like maggots digging into a rotting corpse and the cocoon of eternal blackness coiling about him. "Many worlds with many Magic's and creatures. Worlds of peace and war, plenty and famine. Worlds and worlds, Dearest. All of them fit for the taking," she hissed, a snake sliding over stone, the last breath of air pulled from the dying’s lips. "If thou dost wish it so, of course. This one would never seek to undermine Dearest's authority," she murmured placatingly, the sound of silk sliding in a coffin, clothe rustling, thunder in the distance. Harry hummed once, to acknowledge her statement, no more, no less.
"How would this 'holiday' happen?" Harry asked after several minutes of contemplation, ignoring the grin that all but cut the spectre's face in two.
"This one would simply take Dearest into the Void, where thou could choose which world thou dost wish to visit. Then, this one would get into contact with this one's elder sister and younger cousin, whom represent the power of Life and Destiny, and thou would be integrated into that world."
"Hmm," Harry replied absently, closing his eyes as he concentrated. A new world, one he could choose, one he could set stipulations for. One where he wasn’t The Boy-Who-Lived, the Vanquisher of Voldemort, or the Immortal Savior as he was here.
One where he could be Just Harry…
“Very well,” Harry said, finally, leaning his head back and looking up at the sky with a small smile on his thin face. “Let’s get started, hmm?” Marwolaeth gave a pleased sound that echoed like the silence of a newly emptied house, and, in a swirl of blackness, the two disappeared, into the Void, where only the gods traveled… And now Harry.
There was no physicality in the Void, only Awareness. Like a thought floating in space, there was nothing tangible, and, for the first few discombobulating minutes, Harry couldn’t tell up from down, depth, anything, until Marwolaeth’s numbing presence anchored him, surrounding his absolutely miniscule presence in her vast awareness, showing him, once and for all, that, though he was Master of Death, she was no slave, and, if it no longer amused her, she could crush him into nothingness and destroy him past death, forbidding him from the Afterlife.
It both terrified and humbled him, and he knew that, here in the Void, she could see that, because, seconds after the realization, her massive, suffocating power gentled, cradled instead of strangled, and became more affectionate than anything.
“What sort of world does Dearest wish to visit, hmm?” she whispered around him, and he began to consider.
“One with magic,” he told her, or, well, thought at her, really, as no body meant no mouth or vocal cords to speak with. Immediately, tiny lights, like stars in the blackness of the Void, began to gently light up. Worlds, he thought in awe and no small part of unease. Thousands of millions of worlds.
“Thou whilst need to be more specific, Dearest,” Marwolaeth murmured. “This one require specifics, else Dearest will have too many worlds for his comprehension.” Harry agreed, and began to name stipulations, watching the lights dwindle with each one.
Magic, intelligent beings, mostly peaceful, somewhere he can settle and have a family, somewhere his abnormally long life will be seen as normal. Somewhere he can fly and not be seen as a freak. Somewhere he could make friends, find love, settle down and be happy. 
The worlds dwindled down as he continued, his stipulations becoming more random and less vague as he thought them up, until there were only six worlds left.
“It is now up to thee, Dearest,” Marwolaeth declared quietly, pulling the worlds closer, until they formed six, silver mirrors, peering into the different worlds. Harry focused on them, and began to peer into their depths.
One world was full of dragons and people, working and fighting side-by-side. This world had magic, but it was only held by the dragons, able to speak and grow to sizes that boggled the mind. War was occasional, but bloody and long remembered.
Harry moved on.
The second world was full of people who played a sort of card game, battling monsters and spells and traps. Objects in it held great powers, and war was occasional, as it was in most Muggle worlds, Harry had noticed.
Harry moved on.
The third world was plain, but for the presence of magical beings that protected the world, led by the being that resided in the Moon, with a few enemies that these five beings defended against.
Harry moved on.
The fourth world had a bunch of people, good and bad, which had super powers. They clashed often, but not to war-levels.
Harry moved on.
The fifth world seemed to focus around a single family, all of them dark and gothic-looking, and their escapades. Apparently, the rest of the world had bright, happy people that made Harry think of Umbridge, only without the viciousness, and this family was the polar opposite, dark and vile and enjoying every second of it.
While one of the most interesting so far, Harry moved on.
The sixth and final world was seemingly seeped in magic, and no humans existed there. Instead, it was a world filled with magical beings, the main population made up of horses (“Ponies,” Marwolaeth corrected in soft amusement), in all different colors and personalities. There were also various magical creatures, such as Griffons, Manticores, and others, though, again, ponies took up the largest number.  
This world was fascinating to Harry. These ponies had built cities, towns, castles, had a government and laws, and yet, there was very rarely any war, and those wars were short and rather quaint compared to some of the things humans fought over. For the most part, however, this world seemed to care more for family and life and peace, than anything else.
It was very nearly perfect, in fact…
“This one,” Harry decided, pushing the other five back as he stared into the world. “I like this one.” It was the most interesting, the most fitting to his stipulations, and, honestly, the farthest thing from his own world as there was.
“Very well, Dearest,” Marwolaeth murmured, sounding surprisingly please. “Allow this one to gather this one’s sibling and cousin, Dearest.” Her presence pulled away, carefully, so as not to unbalance Harry’s awareness, which was swiftly anchored to the World Mirror. “This one shall return most quickly.” Harry barely had time to acknowledge her words, before she was gone completely, leaving him floundering momentarily, before he swiftly latched everything he was onto the World Mirror, lest he drift away into the Void and become lost until she returned. As he waited, Harry watched the world he’d chosen, hungrily observing the differences, traditions, and everything that made the world what it was.
Time passed strangely in the Void. Seconds were hours were months were millennia’s were milliseconds were days. Everything was warped, twisted; turned upside-down and inside-out. As he watched the World Mirror, centuries passed there, or days, or minutes, but all of it was interesting. When he leaned close enough, he could hear what was going on as well, and, as the strangeness of Void Time continued on, he longed to hear more, to know more of what was happening here in his new world.
When Marwolaeth returned, bringing not two, but four other massive Powers, Harry latched onto her familiar presence like a babe to it’s mother, unspeakably relieved she had returned before he could go mad in the Void, hanging onto the World Mirror by his will alone.
“This one did not purposefully leave thou in the Void unattended for so long, Dearest,” she murmured, coiling around him with affection. “This one’s sibling and cousin took time to locate, and this one’s uncle and niece deemed themselves allowed to aid thee in this endeavor.” Harry didn’t really mind all that much, as long as he wasn’t left floating in this bizarre emptiness and Void Time again.
“So, thou wishes to place thyself into the World of Equestria, hmm?” A smooth, gentle, woman’s voice asked him, filled with the sound of bird-song and the laughter of children.
“Yes,” Harry murmured in agreement, Awareness still curling into the cradling presence of Marwolaeth.
[b“This ‘tis a most interesting endeavor indeed, dear niece,”] a male voice said, the edge of slyness curling through the air, giving away the feeling of raindrops falling, explosions in the distance, riptides in a current, and the growing of a seven-leaf-clover in a field.
“Indeed,” another female voice agreed, the cheering of a crowd ringing in her voice, followed by the curses brought by a bad hand, the jingling of coins.
“Who…?” confusion colored his voice as he focused on Marwolaeth, searching for answers.
“Dearest, allow this one to introduce Dearest to this one’s relatives, hmm?” Harry felt the familiar presence pull back a ways, and another presence, this one warm like the sun and filled with too much of everything. Every breath, every inch of growth, every beat of every heart, they surrounded him, drowned him, made him hurt and thrive and flinch and ache.
"Rest Child, the voice gently commanded, pulling back a bit, cushioning him from her presence.“This one forgets, at times, that thou mortals cannot settle within this one’s Power. This one may be called Agapita, and this one holds the Power of Life, Sister of Marwolaeth, Power of Death.”  Gently, she relinquished her hold, and Harry was immediately swept away in a rolling cloud of disorganization and confusion, hot and cold and warm and wet and dry at the same time, upside-down and twisting while straight and upright, his senses swiftly overwhelmed. The presence backed up just enough that Harry no longer felt as if he was about to break apart and join the mess of it, before it spoke.
“This one is most pleased to make the acquaintance of one such as thee, Little Mess! This one is the Power of Chaos, uncle of Marwolaeth and Agapita. This one goes by many, many names, but thou may refer to this one as Filbert, for this one finds it most appealing.” The strange Power curled close and sucked him in again in what could only be described as a hug, before tossing Harry’s presence into the cradle of one of the, as yet, unnamed presences, who caught him gently and gave the impression of cooing, which was the sound of a child’s laughter and the clicking of ping-pong balls in a cage, with the faintest undertone of cheering and clapping.
“This one is pleased to meet the mortal that has gained so much of this one’s favor in their life,” she told him kindly. “This one is Gilda, Power of Luck, and wishes thee a happy life with little woe, though ‘tis needed to make joy stronger.” Harry was then, finally handed to the final Power, who did not overwhelm him with sensations and sounds and images, but rather, with the feeling of being judged, weighed, and the knowledge that a decision had been made, which made Harry unspeakable nervous.
“…This one is Onésima, Power of Destiny, Controller of Fate,” she whispered, voice tired and soft with the weight of lives carrying on shoulders that slumped beneath the force but carried on besides. “This one is not sorry for the Fate given to thee, Young One, for this one does not regret what is, what was, or what is to come. This one can only watch and settle and choose as this one is supposed to.” With nothing more than that, the presence passed him back into the comfortingly numb presence of Marwolaeth, while the other Powers turned to the World Mirror and began to intermingle as they made decisions for this and that for him. Harry, exhausted, left them too it, and buried himself into the Awareness of Marwolaeth, who cradled him close and let him rest his overwhelmed Awareness in silence.
An unknown amount of time passed, before Marwolaeth gently jostled Harry into full attention, and settled him before the World Mirror so that all five Powers could see him.
“These ones have decided on the proper place to put thee,” Agapita announced calmly, and the Mirror flashed, splitting to show a group of eight different, smaller Mirrors, making Harry focus. “First, thou must choose thine parents. The Mares these ones have decided are on the top. The Stallions, the bottom. Chose whichever you feel the most connected to, child.” And then, they sat back and waited, as Harry focused on the top four Mirrors, the Mares who could be his new mother.
The first was a unicorn with a gray coat and green mane, eyes a bright purple. One her left flank was a picture of a needle and some thread. She was a seamstress, apparently, named Knittin’ Sue. She had two children already; twin foals, a colt and a filly, named Needle and Kindle. Both had a pale blue coat, but Needle had an orange mane, and Kindle had her mother’s green mane, only it was much curlier. Neither had a mark. Their father, one Thimble Quick, had died only a week before they had been born, an accident with a collapsed roof while helping some neighbors after a nasty storm that got away from their weather crew.
The next Mare was a dark gold colored Earth Pony, with a white mane and ice-blue eyes, who had a silver harp on her flank with a blue musical note. Her name was Melody Song, a musician, and she had no children and little interest in them, as far as Harry could tell, finding her music much more interesting.
The third Mare was a deep green Pegasus, with a dark red mane that had bright turquoise highlights and streaks. Her eyes were a warm cobalt blue, and on her flank was the image of a burnt orange bowl with gray steam rising out of it and a yellow spoon lying next to it. Her name was Mint Leaf, a cook who traveled around, working in Soup Kitchens in the bigger cities, and helping out in restaurants in smaller towns. She had no children, but wanted some eventually. She also had two older brothers, named Basil and Parsnip, who were big name chef’s in the city of Manehattan (and wasn’t that funny, Harry mused, that they had all these similar names to cities and towns from his world, changed and given horse-like names…).
The final Mare was another Earth Pony, this one a copper-color with a dark gold mane, and gentle freckles on her face. The mark on her side was a full red apple and a green apple core. Her name was Applesauce, and her family was huge. She worked in making her namesake, living on an orchard with her Great Aunt and cousins. She wanted children very badly, but didn’t want to settle with any of the Stallions she knew.
Harry considered all of these Mares, watched a bit of their lives, and considered each pro and con. After some deliberation, he pushed Knittin’ Sew and Melody Song away, their personalities making the decision for him. Carefully, he considered Applesauce and Mint Leaf. After some deliberation, he pushed Applesauce gently away, and nudged Mint Leaf towards the waiting Powers.
“Are you certain, child?” Agapita asked, not like she doubted his choice, but just for the sake of asking. Harry hummed his satisfaction with his choice, and watched the other three Mares Mirrors turn to wisps and fall away. When they were gone, he turned his eyes on the Stallion Mirrors.
The first Stallion was a Pegasus named Blade Breeze, a member of the Royal Guard. His coat was white, his mane a dark blue with silver-blue highlights, and his eyes a bright honey-colored brown. His flank was marked with the picture of a sword and dagger crossing. He was a stern but fair pony, and the older brother to a Earth Pony colt named Blue Dancer, who was more interested in music and dancing then his studies. Blue Dancer was as blue as his brother’s mane, with a yellow and orange streaked mane and bight purple eyes.
The second Stallion was a Zebra named Zendo, an Astrologist who read the stars much like a Centaur, able to see the paths one would come across. It wasn’t seeing the future, but seeing what choices would come up. His black-and-white mane was in a half-Mohawk, with the top half neat and straight, before shortening and softening down his neck. He had his left ear pierced by a single gold ring, but, other than that, did not follow the tradition of his people, wearing rings of gold on his legs and neck. He did, however, fashion his tail hair, into long, even dreads made of all black or all white hair, but not mixing the two. His eyes were a bright, warm green, and his flank-mark was a bunch of lines and marks, like the rest of his kind. It looked almost like a gyroscope, honestly.
The third Stallion was a Unicorn, with dark brown fur and a pale blue mane. His eyes were orange, and he wore a fancy looking vest. His flank was marked with the image of a trumpet with two red notes floating around it. His name was Marco Forte, a private music teacher for the elite. He liked children, but, much like Snape, had little patience with them when it came to teaching his craft. His parents were both famous musicians, and his younger sister was a famous singer, but Marco wasn’t much for the spotlight, preferring to make music that he enjoyed.
The final Stallion was a Earth Pony with a yellow coat and red mane, and dark blue eyes. His flank was marked with two orange horseshoes inter-locked, and he kept his red tail cropped short. His name was Sunny, and he was a very cheerful, mischievous Stallion, who liked kids mostly because he was like a grown-up one. He reminded Harry much like Sirius, without the grimness of Azkaban darkening his mind. Sunny had two younger sisters, both fully grown as well. A pale red Mare with soft yellow mane and gray eyes named Lissie, who had a purple flower on her rump and worked at a Foal Daycare, and a honey-colored Mare with red-and-brown-striped mane and dark green eyes named Tanny, who had a single red horseshoe on her flank, and who worked at the local Tea Shop as a waitress.
Harry took the four in, poking and observing and thinking heavily on his choices, before he pushed Sunny and Marco away, and, after a few more minutes, pushing Blade after them, nudging Zendo towards the Powers.
“An interesting choice, for sure, Little Mess,” Filbert announced, sounding a little smug. “And the Stallion this one chose, as well! Excellent.”
“Their paths are crossing, their lives entwining,” Onésima announced in her quiet, serious way. “Their lives will be long and fruitful, full of happiness and content. They are a good match.” Harry felt pleased and relieved at that, and watched in the Mirror as his soon-to-be parents met, when Zendo followed the stars to a road where Mint Leaf had stopped to fix a piece on her traveling wagon. The Zebra offered assistance in exchange for a meal, and the two worked side-by-side, and ate with each other, smiling and laughter and contentedness coiling between them as their personalities clicked. Time in the Mirror moved forward quickly, to their first date, their first dance, and first kiss. Meeting Mint Leaf’s family, then Zendo’s. A year passed, before Zendo asked Mint Leaf to marry him, on the anniversary of they day they met, on the very same spot they first met. It was all very romantic and such, the wedding filled with family and close friends but no one else. The two of them settled into a small cottage a little ways away from a place called Ponyville, and, while Mint Leaf started working at a restaurant there, Zendo continued to study the skies and write out star maps. There, the picture faded, and the Powers turned their attention to Harry, who turned his to them as well.
“What is done is done, child,” Agapita said sternly. “Thou art re-written, reborn. This world is now thine only world, though thou shalt keep thine memories of the world before, thou art no longer connected to it.”
"The ties of thine past are cut," Onésima murmured.“New ties bind thee, not as strong nor as choking. Flourish, for thine destiny is gentle compared to that of the past.”  With that, the Power left, nothing more to say.
“This one is eager to see what thou shall do in this new world,” Gilda admitted, surrounding him briefly in a hug, before she, too, left. Filbert swamped him with power, the sound of cackling flooding his ears for a moment.
“This one dost hope that thine hunt of trouble dost continue, Little Mess,” he declared gleefully. “Live up to this one’s expectations, Little Mess. The worlds need more of this one in their existence!” And, with a last swirl of cackling, gleeful Chaos, the Power sped away into the Void after his niece and daughter.
“Is Dearest ready?” Marwolaeth asked curiously; Harry sighed as she curled affectionately around him, and pushed him towards the Mirror. With a silent hope that all would end up alright, he pressed his Awareness against the Mirror’s surface and, after a brief flicker of resistance, fell through. 
Light blinded him, before pain exploded, and he came undone before he could even scream, the body he abruptly found himself once more in possession of, breaking apart and transforming into something else. Before he could see what, unconsciousness surrounded him, and he knew no more.
He became aware again in fits and spurts, muffled sounds and surrounded by warmth. A deeper voice, occasionally. The vague sensation of flying. Moving in small, jerky movements when he grew uncomfortable.
Slowly, he became aware that the higher, female’s voice was Mint Leaf’s, his mother, and the deeper voice was Zendo, his father. Other voices flittered in and out, but those two were the most prominent. He was a baby, not even born yet, but close, he realized, when this epiphany finally occurred to him. He couldn’t see much, mostly just dark reds and pinks, and an opaque sort of white occasionally.
Finally, though, something changed, and he found himself being pushed in the needed direction to get out. So, with that in mind, he pushed himself towards the exit, and soon entered his new world, crying out at the brightness and the cold and the sudden influx of sound and sight and smell. A strange pony decked out in a facemask, apron, and gloves, looked rather startled, before smiling at Harry warmly as said Doctor and another pony started cleaning him up.
“Congratulations!” The Doctor holding Harry announced warmly as he wrapped the immortal in a soft yellow blanket and handed him over to an exhausted but happy-looking Mint Leaf. “Your foal is a filly, and an Alicorn!” Harry didn’t really remember at the moment what, exactly, and Alicorn was, but he could be excused at the moment, because all he could think of was the “girl” bit.
What.
In the back of his mind, he could hear the faint cackling of Filbert, and knew the Chaos Power had done this on purpose. Biting back an irritated sigh, Harry blinked hi-her, blinked her, eyes up at the wide-eyed visage of the Pegasus that was his mother.
Mint Leaf was actually rather pretty, with her cobalt eyes and dual-colored mane, and her forest green coat. Beside her, Zendo peered down at Harry, green eyes bright and affectionate.
“Our little filly be very strong, she will,” he murmured in his strange, almost Jamaican accent. Mint Leaf sniffled and choked up a bit, smiling beatifically as she nuzzled Harry’s nose gently with her own.
“Clover Breeze,” she murmured affectionately, turning a sweet smile up to her Zebra husband. “Her name is Clover Breeze.” Zendo smiled and leaned down to nuzzle his black snout against Harry’s, now Clover’s, own.
“Our little Clovah,” he murmured, and kissed her forehead. “De stah’s be bright tonight for you, sweet one,” he whispered, and Clover found herself yawning heavily, and soon drifting to sleep, as Mint Leaf began to hum.
Five years passed, and Harry embraced his life as Clover fully, tossing his old life away as much as she could. It helped that she didn’t look much like she had thought she might. Her coat was a pale, soft green, broken up by black stripes that were similar to her “Papa’s”, though less in number. Her eyes took after his as well, only a brighter shade of green. Her mane and tail, she kept long like her “Mama’s”, the pure white mane broken by a few thin streaks of black, and fell straight on one side of her head, the slightly messy ends just reaching her knees. Her long tail was completely white but she tied it similarly to her Papa’s people, a thick black band at the base and end, the hair between braided tightly.
Life was actually very interesting at her new house. She took school lessons from her Papa while her Mama was at work, played for a few hours before her Mama got home, then learned cooking and how to use her small, developing wings. Once a week, she stayed up late with Zendo and he taught her the stars, which had different names and constellation then she remembered from her world.
All together, though, it was a happy life, if a bit lonely, as Clover found herself spending more time with her Papa at home than going into Ponyville, but nice all the same.
When Mint Leaf fell pregnant again, Clover was stunned, but then cautiously happy. She’d never considered she would have a sibling in this world, so used to most of the families she grew up with, bar the Weasley’s, having only one child for long years, if any more at all, so the idea she could have a little brother or sister was a foreign delight.
Months passed, and Clover made sure to pull her weight around the house as much as she could, cleaning and occasionally cooking when her Mama got particularly tired. Zendo helped her out as much as he could, but the Zebra wasn’t very good in the kitchen when it came to cooking or cleaning, so Clover found herself chasing after her bemused father and giving him directions on this or that, and cleaning up after him when he accidentally messed something up.
The morning her brother was born, Clover cleaned the house, top to bottom, filled with nervous energy while her mother’s brother, Basil, watched on in amusement. Her parents had left her at home as the hospital was no place for a foal, but that didn’t stop Clover from worrying or being impatient, so she cleaned.
And cleaned.
And maybe cooked enough to feed all of Ponyville, while her Uncle laughed his hooves off before helping her package and store the food, setting a bunch aside in gift baskets to send to some of her mothers friends.
When Zendo and Mint Leaf came come with Zendo’s mother, Zenna, and Mint Leaf’s father, Brawn Paisley, it was to an absolutely spotless house, a thoroughly amused Basil, and a tired but still excited Clover, who scrambled quickly to her parents side and stood on her back legs to try and get a look at her sibling. Her mother laughed her warm, tinkling laugh and moved to settle on their couch, Clover lunging after her to bounce on the cushion beside her, trying to peer passed her mother’s folded foreleg to see the little face partially hidden by an orange baby blanket.
“Clover,” her mother began. “Meet your little brother, Zeb.” With that, Mint Leaf shifted the bundle gently into Clovers hooves, making the bouncing filly freeze and carefully shift to hold the baby foal correctly, her look of concentrated serious unknowingly making all the adults smile or grin. Clover didn’t care, however, because her wide, bright green eyes were focused on the small, sleeping face in her hooves.
Zeb looked just like their father in every way, colored just like any other Zebra. His mane had the same sort of stripes their mother’s did, but were black and white, and already pinned back by a soft, black band, into an almost-topknot. Shifting the blanket carefully around with her mouth, Clover saw that he had no wings, and that his tail-hair was completely black, like hers was white. Carefully covering him back up, Clover placed her nose gently to his, eyes wide and staring, drinking in every detail. She watched as her brother slowly blinked his eyes open, eyes that were a darker shade of blue than their mothers, whether permanently or until the blue faded or darkened to another color, but still beautiful. He stared up at her in confusion, and Clover pressed her black muzzle to his in a gentle nuzzle.
“Hello, Zeb,” she whispered softly to him. “I’m your big sister, and I’m gonna take care of you and love you forever and ever, okay? Okay,” she murmured, meaning every word. And, even when he grew old and passed on, as he undoubtedly would, she would still continue to love him and care for him, her first sibling ever, no matter what. She carefully passed the newborn foal back to their mother, before a yawn overtook her. In a few minutes, she was dozing against her mother, until her grandfather came and picked her up, setting her on his back as the Pegasus chuckled and carried her to her room. 
There, she slept, and dreamt of her old world and her new, and woke in the middle of the night with the knowledge that the new world was the here and now, and that she had well and truly abandoned her old world.
But, looking down into the face of her sleeping brother as she snuck into his room to peer into his crib, she wouldn’t have it any other way, and curled up in the chair beside his crib, to sleep the rest of the night away peacefully.