“My darling Comet! The Grand Galloping Gala is only the most stupendously splendid event you will ever participate in! The lights, the sounds, the garden, the ponies! The sophistication! Goodness gracious, how have you never heard of it?”
Comet shrugged. It wasn't so much a shrug as it was a slight bob.
“In fact, to prove it is so delightful, I will take you there on my honour. My plus-one, if you will.”
“Oh, thank you! You're so kind.”
“Oh, no, that's Fluttershy. I'm just generous.”
Comet waved goodbye as he left, using his ever-growing magic skills to fold the new waistcoat and shirt and put it in a cloth tote bag, which he carried in his mouth as he made his way to the Apple Farm for, as Applejack had said, some 'apples and apple-based products'. It would be nice to meet her family. He trudged up the hill and wound his way between the patches of bare earth where various crops grew in vast numbers. He approached the farmhouse then realised that this farm was the one he had gone past on his way to Ponyville. He knocked on the door, and was greeted by Applejack.
“Ah! Just the pony. Come in, make yerself at home!”
“As long as I'm not intruding on anything.”
“Nah, of course not! Come inside, we were waiting fer ya!”
“You were?” Comet asked, letting himself in and walking alongside the apple farmer deeper into the abyss of the enormous farmhouse, “I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“It's no big deal, we'd only just gathered here.”
Comet jumped in alarm once again at the sheer number of ponies crammed into this half of the barn. They were all earth ponies, and were all shapes and sizes, with many variants of clothing. Of course, the first thing he said was,
“Don't you guys feel a little uncomfortable, all stuffed in here?”
They laughed and shook their heads almost in unison. A yellow pony with long, thick ginger hair wearing a cowboy hat and a waistcoat (but no shirt) came up to him and shook his hoof.
“Howdy! The name's Braeburn. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Comet Trails, likewise.”
“And now come and meet the rest of the family!” Applejack pressed, pushing him forward much like Pinkie had done yesterday, once more unto the fray.
“We have: Apple Fritter; Apple Bumpkin; Red Gala; Red Delicious; Golden Delicious; Caramel Apple; Apple Streudel; Apple Tart; Baked Apple; Apple Briosche; Apple Cinnamon-Crisp...”
Applejack took a deep breath, having not breathed for the entire list.
“Big Macintosh, Apple Bloom and Granny Smith! Up and at 'em, Granny! We've got a guest.”
An elderly mint-green pony with white hair tied in a bun and an an orange neckerchief with red polka-dots, who had previously been snoring quite loudly in a rocking chair at the back, sprang awake and slowly inched her way towards the front, along with a thickset red stallion with ginger hair (who was clearly Big Macintosh, going by his size) and a yellow filly with red hair tied at the back with a pink ribbon the size of her face, who was by inference Apple Bloom.
“It's lovely to meet all of you,” Comet announced, “I've heard you're the best apple-farmers in town!”
“Sweetie, we're the only apple-farmers in town! That's why we're the best, 'cuz there's no competition!” Granny Smith replied. This elder clearly had some feisty spirit left in her. Comet chuckled, then noticed Apple Bloom staring up at him with big amber eyes just like his own. She then moved around him to investigate his cutiemark.
“Cool cutiemark,” she remarked, “how'd ya get it?”
“Apple Bloom, now is not the time,” Applejack scolded.
“No, no, it's fine. Celestia gave it to me.”
There was a collective gasp. Clearly nobody here had such an event happen to them. He laughed nervously, feeling their eyes drill into his very soul. There was a moment of awkward silence.
“So... why did Celestia give it to ya?” Braeburn asked.
“To be honest, I... I honestly don't quite know. I think what happened was, I was there, I had no cutiemark, so it was a case of 'since you're here, might as well', y'know?”
“There has to be more to it than that, sugarcube,” Applejack said, “Celestia wouldn't just give ya a cutiemark. Was there any other reason, d'ya know?”
“No, actually, I don't believe there was.”
Applejack squinted suspiciously then let it slide, at least for now.
“So what's yer talent?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Magic.”
“Well go on, then! Show off a bit!”
Everyone watched him with baited breath, and he started to feel a little claustrophobic. Nonetheless, he did as he was told, and concentrated on his horn, once again feeling the electric sensation of his magic. He could feel the ponies around him as disturbances in the otherwise grid-like structure of the fabric of space; he felt a slight resistance as he probed and poked around for something to levitate. Something large, perhaps, to show them what he could do. Something big.
… Big.
Big Macintosh.
He opened his eyes and looked around for the stallion, who was at 2 o' clock. He closed his eyes and redirected his magic towards him, feeling it envelop the irregular shape. He urged the shape upwards, pushing it from beneath, and pulling it from above at the same time. It was a tremendous effort, one that make a slipped tendon in his neck snap back into place rather loudly (allowing him some relief), as he felt every ounce of Big Mac's weight on the tip of his horn, bearing down on it. It was an immense resistance, one that was incredibly difficult to overcome.
He opened his eyes.
Big Mac had disappeared, but when Comet looked up he found him a few feet up in the air, hovering silently. He was trembling, perhaps because of how unsteady Comet's magic was. Comet dragged him around the room, through the air, like a majestic red-and-ginger statue. It was quite the spectacle. He set the farmer down in his original place, shaken and mortified but otherwise OK.
“I haven't really had the chance to practise,” Comet informed the crowd, “so that's pretty much all I can do for now. Sorry there wasn't anything flashier.”
“To be honest,” Braeburn chimed in, “if you'd done anything flashier, you would've set the barn on fire.”
The others, including Comet, laughed and nodded. Big Mac didn't do anything of the sort, he was too traumatised.
“Maybe you could drop by Appleloosa later today, meet the folks there too,” Braeburn suggested.
“I might actually, yeah. Thanks for the offer,” Comet agreed. He turned to the crowd. “Well, it's been nice meeting all of you, but I really must get back. Twilight was going to teach me some more magic.”
The group disbanded, ponies walking out of the door and going home by taxi or by hoof. Applejack stayed behind and beckoned Comet to a quiet corner of the barn.
“I'm a bit concerned about this here cutiemark,” she told him, pointing at his mark, “somethin' don't seem right about it.”
“What do you mean? I got it like any other pony.”
“Nopony has been given a cutiemark by Celestia before, Comet. That's what worries me.”
Comet frowned, lowering her hoof with his own and taking a step back.
“What're you on about? Celestia didn't give it to me, I got it by myself when I was a colt.”
Applejack's eyes widened, then she squinted at him again, more than a little dubious. It was rare for a pony to change the story of their mark this often, or even at all. Nothing was tying together, the information she was given wasn't cohesive. It didn't take a Twilight to figure that out.
“Wanna repeat how you got your mark to me, then?”
“Sure.”
* * *
Comet Trails was born during a meteor shower, which convinced his unicorn mother Moonlight Twinkle and bat-pony father Chromium Elixir that he was special, and he would bring good fortune to them and to other ponies. What was even stranger was the fact that he was born with his horn glowing, which was a sign that he had been bestowed with untold magical power. Of course, Chromium was a little cynical about such a legend, but he kept his mouth shut.
A few years passed and Comet, at school for the first time, was sitting by himself on the oak tree-trunk bench in the playground while the other ponies played around with each other. They were the cool ponies, they had their marks, they were special. He was just some suggestion of a pony, something that to them didn't even exist all that much. He was a concept that they had left behind on their 'big day'. He was a loner.
While he was sitting on this bench, contemplating life, a pair of pegasus ponies stalked over and started bullying him.
“What use are you? You haven't got any talents!” one of them jeered.
“And your dad – what's up with him? He looks like he ought to be sucking our blood!” the other taunted.
“Leave me alone,” Comet mumbled half-heartedly. He knew they wouldn't.
“Aw, poor baby, can't stand the heat? Don't worry, we'll stay well away from you and your creep dad.”
They pushed him over and he landed on his back in a patch of mud. It was cold and brown and so very sticky. They laughed at their prank as they trotted away triumphantly, their chests out, and Comet started to cry. Tears tumbled down his cheeks like the great waterfalls of Rainbow Falls and splashed in the mud, making it worse. He rolled over and stood up, his legs shaking, and he skulked inside, his head low. He sat at his desk and slammed his head on it.
It wasn't his fault he hadn't found his talent.
It wasn't his fault his dad was part bat.
It wasn't his fault he was shy, nor was it his fault he was a loner.
The sheer injustice of the matter made him cry even more. If only he could get back at those two, he would be the happiest colt in Equestria. If only he could teach them a long overdue lesson of how to treat others.
He looked up, having realised something. He was a unicorn, he could always get enroled in Celestia's School of Magic. He wiped away his tears on the back of his hoof, and simply tried to survive the rest of the day.
When he got home, he found his dad in the large-ish study, where he was concocting another one of his brilliant alchemical inventions. He was an alchemist, his talent potion-making. He saved life and limb with these potions, and he couldn't afford to get even a single digit wrong in his calculations that he had to do to find the correct amount of each ingredient, or it would completely spoil the product.
Comet walked up to the desk, where his father was working.
“Hey, Comet!” Chromium greeted, not looking up for fear of getting something wrong in the measurement of dragon heart's blood, “how was school?”
“I was bullied again.”
“I swear, if they even so much as go near my son again, they will have to answer to me.”
“Dad, I wanna be put into Celestia's School of Magic.”
The abruptness of the request and the importance in Comet's voice made Chromium snap his head up. He immediately stopped what he was doing. He carefully placed the pipette he had been working with down on the desk beside the beaker of blood, then got down off his chair and circled round the desk to meet him.
“Comet, getting enroled in that School is hard work. I have to write a carefully-crafted letter of request to the administrator, and then it has to be approved, and then we have to go all the way to Canterlot for you to take an entrance exam. Plus, it costs a lot of money.”
His voice was low and raspy, like a just-woken-up voice. His wife Moonlight would have shivered in bliss if she were here, but she was busy in the kitchen making dinner. Comet hung his head.
“I just... wanted to learn more magic.”
Chromium brought him in for a hug, and looked at the sky for some kind of revelation. His chest fur was thick and soft and his body was warm. Comet could hear his heart beating.
“I'll ask your mother.”
Comet hugged him tighter, a beaming grin now plastered all over his face.
It was 6 o' clock in the evening on Christmas Eve and the sky over Canterlot was a beautiful crimson and maroon. The letter had been approved, and today was the day of the exam. Moonlight was teaching Comet a nifty little calming exercise to do with his breathing – breathing in slowly, then breathing out, pushing his troubles away with a hoof. It worked, and just as well since one of the four examiners beckoned them in.
Immediately after he had stepped up to the stage, Comet dissolved into a panic attack. He hated being in the spotlight, he hated being tested, he hated the looks the examiners were giving him, he hated all of it. He was hyperventilating now, feeling claustrophobic, feeling trapped. He looked over to his parents for help, and they both demonstrated the breathing exercise in perfect unison. Comet copied them, and felt marginally better. There was a rattle of wheels over tiled surface and he looked to his right to see a trolley being pushed in front of him. On it sat a red egg spotted with darker red, which was supported from below by a box with hay in it.
“You are to crack this egg with your magic, and your magic alone,” one of the examiners instructed. She and the other three summoned a clipboard and a quill each.
When Comet didn't produce results, she raised an eyebrow.
“Well, Master Trails?”
Comet laughed nervously, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He looked at the egg and tried to imagine it cracking under the spark of his magic. … Nope, nothing. He was doomed. Why did he ask to come here in the first place? He had failed already, and he was wasting their time.
“Master Trails, if you fail to crack the egg in five minutes, you are automatically disqualified. You are wasting our time, which could have been spent with our families. You are incredibly fortunate that we are kind enough as to drag ourselves over here just to watch you break an egg.”
Comet started to panic again, and badly. He was all over the place. He hoisted himself off the ground using the edge of the trolley to get a better shot at the egg, but it rolled out from under him and flicked, sending the egg straight into his face and bouncing onto the ground. He apologised profusely as he tried to grab it as it rolled away, but it slipped out of his hooves and bounced further. He didn't stop saying sorry until 20 minutes had passed, when he had, after enormous effort, returned the egg to its stand. He collapsed onto his rear, panting. After recovering his breath, he thought about trying again, but didn't.
“I'm sorry I wasted your time,” he mumbled.
He trudged back to his parents, feeling dejected, only to find that even they had lost interest and were looking out of the window at the sky beyond.
“Hey, Comet, come and look at this,” Chromium said softly, lifting him up to see through the window.
It was a beautiful sight. One, two, three comets glittered past at once, and they weren't going to stop coming any time soon. Comet stared at it with childish wonder, the comet trails reflected in his eyes. It was magnificent, it was so pretty. He remembered that day, when his mother was in the hospital bed during a shower just like this, cuddling her newborn son...
He felt an overpowering shiver course through his body and his horn tingle with that familiar fizzle of magic, only this time it was much, much stronger. He yelped as he felt his muscles spasm uncontrollably with the sheer power, and he fell out of his father's grip and tumbled half-way back to the center. The examiners, who had started to pack up, turned their attention back to him only to widen their eyes.
All at once a burst of pure, raw magic exploded out of Comet's horn like a sonic boom, sending him hurtling the rest of the way and crashing against the trolley, making the egg topple back out of its box and hit him on the head, bouncing onto the floor once again. Comet lay there, slumped against the trolley, limp and spasming, his horn glowing not just with an aura, but in its own right. A blast of magic utterly vaporised the eggshell, leaving behind a red baby dragon with orange spines.
But it didn't stop there.
Comet found himself hovering a good few feet above the ground without his consent, and he started to scream, flailing his little legs around, crying out for help, for somebody to drag him back down again. Chromium tried, but as soon as he had released his hold Comet shot back up and cracked his head against the ceiling (literally or metaphorically, Comet didn't care to examine). There was no budging him. He was sobbing again.
Another shot of magic switched Moonlight's position with the baby dragon's, so now Chromium was hugging the dragon tightly with fear and Moonlight was sitting a few feet in front.
Yet another hiccup switched the examiners' bodies, so now the male ponies had the voices and minds of the female ponies and visa versa.
“Please help!” Comet cried over the loud crackle of his obscenely over-the-top magic, “I don't know what's happening! I can't stop!”
“But you can,” a regal, smooth voice called back from below him. He looked down to see none other than Princess Celestia, looking up at him, her mane and tail being blown backwards by every burst of his magic.
“I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!” Comet wept, referring to the well-cooked room and ponies. Celestia didn't reply; the only thing she did was reach up and touch his hoof. He was hanging upside-down so he could see her.
“Come down,” Celestia said softly, “come back down to your parents. You must be tired.”
“I am! I am, I am, I am!”
“Calm yourself. Breathe in... breathe out. In... out. There we go.”
With every slow breath, Comet dipped a little further, until he reached the ground and his magic ceased. He collapsed, all out of energy. He didn't give a bit whether he passed the test or not; he just wanted to be with his mum and dad, he wanted to be home.
“Your magic certainly rivals that of Twilight Sparkle, another pony in your situation,” Celestia informed him with a smile, “therefore, I hereby accept you into my school. I will teach you everything I know, and the rest is up to you.”
Comet lay there, not moving. He gave a sigh of relief that was barely distinguishable from his actual breathing. His mother and father raced up to him and asked whether he was OK. He could only smile and nod in his response.
* * *
It was Christmas Day, and Comet bounded down the stairs, ready to open his presents. His parents were on the sofa and so looked around when he entered the room.
“Merry Christmas,” they greeted cheerfully.
“Merry Christmas!” Comet replied in kind. He expertly found his way under the tree and started opening his presents.
There were a lot, mainly because he was an only child and so there was more money to go around at Christmas. There was a small box that, when opened, contained...
… Nothing.
He frowned and looked at his parents, showing them the empty box, and Moonlight giggled, Chromium giving her a cocky grin and sharing it with Comet.
“Oh, don't worry, you've already got that present,” Chromium told him jovially. He walked over to the door and beckoned Comet to come upstairs with him.
Chromium positioned his son in front of the wall mirror in the master bedroom. He then turned him 90 degrees to face it on profile. Comet looked himself over then reached his flank.
He gasped in delight and hugged his dad. It was a comet, an orange comet with an orange, yellow and white trail, with white sparkles surrounding it.
No more bullying, Comet thought gleefully.
* * *
“So you've been lying to us?” Applejack growled. Comet frowned again.
“I haven't lied to you at all! Where in Equestria did that come from?”
“Before, you said that Celestia gave you that mark. Said it was a case of 'you were there, so might as well'.”
There was a pause where Comet tried to remember ever saying that. He shook his head.
“I don't remember saying that at all, Applejack. You might have misheard – it was rather rowdy in here.”