//------------------------------// // Where Magic Resides // Story: The Stolen Child // by Thistle Charm //------------------------------// The Stolen Child A My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction Chapter Three: Where Magic Resides Disclaimer: I do not own My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic -- the characters and creations are the property rights of Hasbro, Inc. and the MLP: FiM writers, producers, etc. A plume of purple smoke bloomed in the center of the wooden stage built against the southern wall of Starswirl Square. The chatter of the crowd abruptly died as all eyes turned. Two more plumes of smoke, pink and blue, flanked either side of the purple one. Then five more exploded onto the stage. Soon, though, the colored puffs of smoke drifted away on a morning breeze. Unicorn and alicorn mages revealed themselves before the crowd, horns aglow and bodies resonating with powerful magic. Celestia stood close to her father’s side, watching from the center of the crowd. She could almost smell the potent energy radiating from the masters and educators that stood proudly on the stage. Celestia absentmindedly pawed at the ground with her hoof nervously. The stage was now full with eight mages, and at the center was a grey mare framed by an elegant white cloak. Her hair fell in rich purple-and-blue curls. Her soft grey horn was tall and surrounded by a vibrant violet glow. This grey unicorn mage sighed, and the glow of her horn dissipated. The other unicorns and alicorns followed suit. Celestia marveled at these masters of magic, each adorned with great cloaks or enchanting amulets. “My young fillies and colts, welcome to your Presentation!” The grey unicorn boomed, voice deep and blunt like the sound of rocks plummeting into a lake. “For upon this day, beneath the burning sun, you shall present yourselves before us, the Eight Masters. As tradition by the ancient laws of Unicornia, upheld by the magic culture of Equestria, united equine kingdom, each of you shall rise upon this stage and demonstrate your raw potential.” The grey unicorn nodded to the plump, bearded alicorn to her right. His horn began to glow a shade of sharp cobalt blue. In a bright flash, several items appeared on the stage: a pile of rocks, a painting canvas, a slotted jug, a pot of dirt, and a bowl of murky water. “Before you we have provided props which you may use to demonstrate your abilities; however, you may choose to do some other exercise if you so wish. During the Presentation, Sir Oryon the Wise shall mediate if trouble arises.” In another flash of bright and thick colored smoke, seven of the Eight Masters had vanished. The crowd looked around for them. “As per tradition,” the grey unicorn boomed incorporeally, “the colts shall perform first.” Celestia looked around, trying to find where the grey unicorn was. Finally, she saw it -- high above Starswirl Square hovered a vibrant pink sphere, where the Masters sat in audience. “This should be quite a show, hmm?” Nobulis whispered into Celestia’s ear. “He-he...y-yes, it should be...” Celestia trailed off. Her hoof had scratched the grout between the marble squares. Sir Oryon the Wise conjured a cushion in the corner of the stage. He flapped his great yellow wings once before settling onto the seat. He levitated a small stick and struck an ornate gold bowl. It sang a sweet chime, and as it died away, the Presentation began. There were five unicorn colts presenting, and they lined themselves excitedly at the edge of the wooden stage. The first rose proudly, a cutie mark of a star-flower on his flank. His horn began to glow, and its magic enveloped the pot of dirt. His face showed little strain as the glow intensified, and from the pot came a bud, which eventually shot up into a stem of leafy greens. Finally, the bud bloomed into a gorgeous magnolia. The crowd cheered and pounded the ground with their hooves. Sir Oryon nodded to the unicorn who left the stage with a smile; the alicorn Master made a few notes on the scroll hovering beside him. He made a flower? He...he made it bloom! It isn’t even Spring! Celestia thought. Her heart was pounding; soon, she thought, it would crawl up her throat and run from her jaws, terrified. Distracted by her anxiety, she did not see the next two unicorns perform, though mechanically joined the crowd with their hoof beats. It was not until a tender song began to play that Celestia focused to the Starswirl Square Stage once more. A seafoam-green unicorn stood on the stage, face contorted in severe concentration. Before him, enveloped in a gentle white glow, was a lute. The magic struck each string with precision. Sometimes, the sound would weaken too much for Celestia to hear the tune, but then the volume would rise again and the music would soothe her. Finally, the unicorn sighed. He bowed, sweat slicking his cream-and-teal mane. Hoof beats rose in admiration, and the unicorn exited the stage. Sir Oryon was smiling, and made several notes on his scroll. The colts finished their presentation. As the final colt left the stage, the grey unicorn boomed from her magic seat above: “And now, may all the fillies line up and prepare for their respective presentations!” “Good luck, Celest,” Nobulis whispered. She was nauseous; her stomach was shifting and churning of its own accord. Whether or not she performed well, Celestia was fairly certain she was going to vomit on stage. As she walked up (slowly, hoping to avoid going first), the musical seafoam unicorn gave her smile. She heard him whisper “good luck” to her and each passing filly -- there were nine of them performing, three of them alicorns, including Celestia. Despite her best efforts to be slow, Celestia was to be the fifth to present. She tried to calm herself down. She closed her eyes and focused on the magic she had felt that morning, when she had thrust the cup of fruit into the hearth. What had triggered that power? Was it her anger? She had cursed rudely at the cup, and then it had thrust into the fire. Yes. Perhaps she needed to channel her anger. Magic was related to emotion, after all. Hoof beats came for the first filly. She bowed her head, blushing profusely as she left the stage. The second filly used her telekinesis to paint a quick still life of the flower the colt had bloomed earlier. The third filly lifted the heavy rocks, but when she lost control of one, Sir Oryon had to take control of the performance. The young filly alicorn smiled awkwardly, embarrassed by her over-ambition to lift such a heavy boulder. The fourth filly then took stage, leaving Celestia waiting, shaken and frozen by her fear. Breathe, focus, relax, breathe... Celestia thought. Hoof beats came after the fourth filly’s performance. It was time. Celestia walked slowly up the stairs to the stage. She was met first by Sir Oryon’s old, grey-blue eyes, and then became aware of the dozens of eyes watching her every move, wondering what magical wonder she would perform for the crowd and for the Eight Masters. Breathe, focus, relax... Celestia reminded herself. She stopped in the center of the stage and glanced at each of the props provided. What could she do? Something light -- try to do something with a light object, she thought. Maybe make a drawing? No...perhaps a puzzle? Celestia noticed the bowl of murky water. Maybe she could try purifying the water? She was fairly certain she had read something about purification spells amongst Clover the Clever’s Compendium the night before. Celestia ignored the strained, terrified thump-thumps of her heart. She walked over to the bowl of dirtied water and lowered her horn just to its edge. Two ripples circled across the tense surface. Celestia closed her lavender eyes and focused on the words and intent of the spell. She needed to will all her wanting into her horn; she needed to summon the magic that would make her will a reality. Her horn began to glow dully. The light slithered down and wrapped around the bowl, the water rippling wildly as the magic tried to take hold. Work, damn you! Celestia thought, gritting her teeth. She tried to recapture the struggle she had won with the fruit cup that morning. Why wasn’t it working? The light was just toying with the water; the magic splashed around, but did nothing more. The nausea in the pit of her stomach was growing. Her cheeks felt hot, and the gaze of the crowd began to singe her skin. Tears tried to form on the edges of her eyes, but she held them back with a gulp and a sharp bite of her tongue. Why can’t you...do this! Celestia thought defeatedly. She pushed harder. A pulsing ache returned to her forehead, pressing down into her sinuses and stabbing her brain. The light would still not grow into the colored illumination of decent magic. Sir Oryon coughed. A silence pervaded the crowd, muddled with growing murmurs and gossip. Celestia’s heart strained with the same ache brewing beneath her brow. She pushed harder; her horn dipped further into the bowl until the tips of her pink mane were soaking in the muddy water. Clean...yourself...up! Purify! Purify! Celestia called. She squinted to see eyes averting from her, embarrassed to watch the struggle before them. Her father, though, stood tall in the center of the crowd. Despite the murmurs spreading and flowing around him, he stood there. Smiling, if a bit weakly. He nodded to Celestia and mouthed some words, though Celestia could not read his lips with her squinting eye. Her heart stopped thumping so hard. It warmed. Brightened. Could she sense a light there? In her heart? The light traveled up into her horn. She pushed herself harder. Her breathing was shallow. She sighed deeply, trying to concentrate on the water and nothing more. “Young filly, I believe we may have to move on to the next presentation...” Sir Oryon said flatly. Celestia’s face was now damp with the splashing brown water. She did not move. Her muscles tensed. Yes, there was a light coming from her heart. Was that light the magic? But it had not come from anger...no...it was there, sparked by love. Her father’s love. Purify, she thought softly. Return to the untainted state you were in once before. The light exploded forth. Every muscle in her body shuddered. She was blinded by the surge of power. In a flash of the brightest spring green, her magic lashed forward. The water became clear and froze into ice. The magic was flailing wildly from Celestia’s horn. It was swimming through her, pushing and pulling like a great tide. The crowd gasped in awe. “That is enough, young filly!” Sir Oryon said, gravel-voice cracking slightly. A spiral of bright green magic surged forward, evaporating the bowl of water. A cloud formed above Celestia, and then rain fell, filling the bowl with fresh water. “I said, enough!” Sir Oryon bellowed. Celestia was scared now. How could she stop this light -- this magic? Its lively green was surrounding her, crushing her. It was warm and terrifying, all at once. She whimpered and flapped her wings, trying to stop it. Trying to push it away. And then she felt something crack; she heard it, low and shallow in her ears. Sir Oryon stood from his place and immediately a cobalt bolt flew from his horn and embraced the unwieldy green magic that was flailing from within Celestia. She felt Sir Oryon’s powerful magic push away the tendrils of power inside her; it dissipated and recoiled back inside her, down into the depths of her heart before relaxing to slumber once more. “Celestia!” Nobulis called. Exhausted, Celestia collapsed upon her hind quarters, massaging her temple with her left hoof. Her father’s great wings carried him to the stage. He stood beside Celestia as the final bits of magic flickered out of sight. “Are you all right, Celestia?” Nobulis asked. “What was the meaning of this?” Sir Oryon said. “That filly’s magic was no more trained than that of a foal!” He snorted. “She could have seriously injured somepony.” “I’m...sorry,” Celestia said, a new embarrassment now burning on her face. “She meant no harm, Sir Oryon, I can assure you,” Nobulis said. His wing protectively fell over Celestia as she held back a sob. Once powerless, now a wild menace? “Please, leave this stage, and return when she has tamed her magic. We cannot have an apprentice who nearly injures ponies just by purifying water,” Sir Oryon snorted. “Excuse me, Sir, but I believe that is hardly why you are here! Is an apprentice not to learn from a master? She has potential, but no guide to channel it! I am insulted that you think that--” “Father,” Celestia whispered, broken, “let’s go.” The crowd watched in stunned silence as Celestia stood, staring only at her front hooves. She trotted off the stage, pink mane still wet from the rain she had created. As she left the stage, she flapped her wings and began to fly as quickly away from Starswirl Square as possible. Once above the first layer of clouds, she let herself begin to sob. “Celestia!” Her father called. Weak and dizzy from the spell gone awry, Celestia collapsed onto a cumulus. She cried into its plump softness; the tears were absorbed into its body, turning the white plushness grey. The cloud shuddered as her father landed on it. He folded his legs beneath him as he sat beside his daughter and nuzzled her. “I...I’m such a f-failure, father...I...I wish I wasn’t an alicorn!” “Come, Celestia, do not let the words of an old miserly mage harm you. What I saw back there was power! You, Celestia, are destined for great things. You only need guidance.” “N-not from them. Please, I d-don’t want to go back there.” “I will not force you,” Nobulis said. As they lay on the cloud, the beating of great feathered wings came to their ear. “Master Nobulis!” A stallion called -- it was Nobulis’s valet. “What? What is it?” The pegasus servant hovered before them, short of breath. Celestia wiped her tears onto her foreleg and looked up to the valet. “Lady Solaria,” he caught his breath, “she has gone into labor.”