The Once and Future Princess

by Rustling Leaves

2 The Delusional Stone

Tom was a rock.

His perception was limited, as is the perception of all rocks, to what he felt. And feeling, mind you, for a rock, is an altogether different thing than it is for us. Their feeling is primarily formed of temperature and vibration, or pressure, which are the only two things that exist in their world. When their collective being was formed, it was in immense pressure and heat, and now pressure and heat is really all they know.

Tom's separateness, his self, had begun to form many thousands of years before, yet only recently was Tom a true rock, lone and unattached to mother earth since he broke off of the mountain he'd been formed in and rolled down to lie amid this garden. Tom had come to rest lying upon a flat piece of unfinished labyrinth in the garden behind and to one side of Canterlot Castle. Being a rock, he was generally disinterested in the goings-on about him, or anything else in general. (That is not entirely true—unlike most rocks, Tom was strangely concerned with what other rocks thought of him. He would often try to convince them that he was a very large diamond, and not just a wad of granite; but, since rocks cannot speak to each other, Tom mostly hoped to appear impressive to them.)

The afternoon was still hot. Tom liked it hot; it meant that for a while, and if only slightly, he was a few millimeters larger than usual—more impressive. Plus, it felt like his childhood in the magma. Cicadas were grinding out their pulsing song from the leaves on the nearby shrubs and in the trees further back. With no tall bushes here, the sun beat down on the clearing Tom ruled over the center of, his shadow the only shadow of any considerable size.

Presently, Tom began to perceive the conversation of two approaching ponies.

"This embarrassment you seem to insist upon regarding your shortcomings in your schooling. We're going to fix it."

One of the ponies was much larger than the other, and the way he walked made him seem too sure of himself. The other was either young, or merely clumsy and very small. Tom thought his most impressive thoughts, hoping that perhaps they'd compliment him.

The two ponies stepped into Tom's clearing.

"The first part of the lesson:" The larger one said, "I need you to try and move the rock."

"That rock?" Twilight asked. It was, obviously, the rock she motioned to, being the only stone of remarkable size in the clearing.

“Move the rock" Star Swirl affirmed. "You may use anything you can think of.”

"How is that going to help me with my schoolwork?" Twilight countered.

Star Swirl tilted his head slowly to one side. For a long time, he just stared at her and did not speak. Finally, when she started to fidget under his gaze, Star Swirl said, "Did you not, Twilight Sparkle, say that you were excited to become my apprentice?"

"Well, yes," she answered.

"And do you know, Twilight Sparkle, what it is to be an apprentice?"

Twilight just sighed and moved toward the rock.

"Very good," Star Swirl said. To Twilight, he sounded smug.

"Hah! Not likely," thought Tom as she approached for Tom knew that he was a stone of no mean mass.

Since these were meant to be lessons to help her in magic school—at least, that's what Star Swirl had said when they started—using magic seemed to Twilight like a good place to start.

Twilight strained, she squinted, she scrunched up her forehead until the skin between her horn and her down-drawn eyebrows felt like it would split. She shook. She began to sweat, and beads of it slid down her forelegs. Light sputtered and drops of what looked like liquid, purple fire formed at the base of her horn and ran up, dripping off in all directions.

...and nothing happened.

She panted for a moment.

"Twilight?" Star Swirl said, but she was beyond hearing him. She threw her magic at the rock, her horn emitting an audible fizzling noise, like bacon freshly dropped into a pan. Teeth bared and eyes shut, she willed desperately for the rock to budge, to float, to roll, to shift.

Still nothing.

"Twilight?" Star Swirl said again.

After glancing quickly around the clearing to try and locate a lever or wedge or cleverly concealed bulldozer, and finding none, Twilight lunged bodily at the rock, shoving with her tiny shoulder, her hooves scrabbling along the lower surface trying to find some purchase that would allow her to attempt to flip the stone. She circled slowly, seeking and pushing, her expression growing haggard and shaky.

"What you're asking is impossible!" she grunted.

Star Swirl sighed, and with a flicker of power running along his horn so briefly Twilight wasn't sure she even saw it, the stone lifted up off the ground and floated, perfectly still.

"Twilight, Twilight... has there not been something nearby you could use to lift the rock?"
Twilight scrunched up her face in confusion.

"Alright, has there been somepony you could use?"

Twilight opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. Twice. Finally she said, "This whole time, all I had to do was ask for help? I don't believe it."

"That is why you fail,” Star Swirl said, affecting a raspy voice for some reason. Twilight just watched him, confused and irritated. When Star Swirl saw she did not catch the reference, he coughed.

"I guess that part of the future will have been a little before your time? I loved it when I was just a colt."

"What?"

"Never mind. Is there something you'd like to ask me, Twilight?

Twilight scowled at him under brooding, childish eyebrows. Unfortunately for both of them, Star Swirl found this adorable. When he grinned at her angry face, Twilight snarled out the request:

"Star Swirl, would you please move the rock for me?"

Immediately, Tom's world was upside down and spinning below him. The tiny crater he'd occupied a moment ago was empty, a bush was broken, and Tom was lying on a patch of bare earth out of the two ponies' sight.

"I chose to move here! I was not rejected! He dropped me! I am too large and impressive for his tiny magic!" Tom thought desperately, hoping that none of the other rocks thought less of him.

None of them cared. Or, indeed, perceived that he had moved.

Twilight was still sulking.

"Is something wrong, Twilight?" Star Swirl asked, affecting his most innocent tone.

"No." Twilight lied.

"Come now, Twilight Sparkle, what is bothering you?"

"It's just that you could have...never mind."

"Twilight..." Star Swirl just stared now. He stared that disinterested teacher's stare that means they don't believe an excuse. Twilight buckled under the glare almost immediately.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to volunteer that information, or to just move the stone yourself?" To her credit, she almost didn't sound exasperated.

"Undoubtedly so." Star Swirl nodded.

"Then why didn't you?"

Again Star Swirl stared. He looked very much like he was actually considering the question. "Perhaps it was part of the lesson," he ventured.

Twilight stopped glaring at the old pony and scrunched up her face as she tried to figure out the meaning of the lesson. "I'm sorry, I really don't see—" She began.

"Of course you don't," Star Swirl interrupted, "Don't look for the meaning, Listen,"He commanded, and a ripple of power accompanied the word. Suddenly the world was totally still. The cicadas stopped singing, the leaves stopped rustling. The wind didn't blow.

Then a voice came from nowhere: "Nothing's happening. What's he on about?"

Twilight's head darted around, looking for the source. Beside Star Swirl and herself, there was nopony there.

"Who said that?" Twilight asked. She looked to Star Swirl, who leaned his head as though he was pointing to the hole in the bushes at the side of the clearing.

After a few moments of expecting to see somepony come through the hole, and looking back at Star Swirl's patiently pointing expression, it became clear to Twilight what the old wizard was trying to say. The very idea strained reason, though, so she hesitated a long while before asking, "The stone?"

"Yes! That stone, I think, will do nicely for teaching you the rest of the lesson. Let us go and talk to the stone."
Teacher and student moved across the grassy clearing to pass through the line of unkempt bushes that now concealed Tom.

"Little stone, are you there?" Star Swirl called. The bushes were rather thick back here, and they'd lost sight of him.

"Hello? Are you calling to me?" the voice Twilight had heard called back.

"Aha!" said Star Swirl, and he pushed against some invisible force to the left and right with his horn. Grass and bushes, and even one tree, leaned out of the way to give the two ponies an unobstructed view of Tom, who had rolled quite some distance when he landed. Twilight and Star Swirl stepped carefully over the bent shrubs and roots, arriving presently at what was more of a gap than a clearing, barely large enough for the two of them and the stone. This gap was much nearer the wall of the castle.

Star Swirl just stood there looking terribly proud of himself.

"Um, Star Swirl?" Twilight ventured.

"Yes, Twilight Sparkle?"

"Why are we talking to a stone?"

"Yes, Star Swirl, why are you talking to a stone?" Tom said.

Star Swirl whirled around to face away from the group. "Well Star Swirl? What do you have to say about this debacle...oh!" Star Swirl turned around. "I'm Star Swirl, aren't I?" Twilight giggled. Acting appropriately chagrined, Star Swirl continued. "Well, Little Stone and Twilight Sparkle, I had hoped that you," he pointed to the stone, "Oh, I'm pointing to you, Little Stone...I don't suppose you can see me."

"'See' you?" asked Tom.

"Can't, then. No matter. I'd hoped that you, Little Stone, could teach young Twilight here the remnants of her lesson for the day. She needs somepony with more experience in the matter than a dottering old stallion."

"But he's just a rock," Twilight said.

"Twilight! You'll offend him!" Star Swirl said.

"No," sighed Tom, "She's right. I'm just a rock."

Star Swirl paused. "Had you wanted to be something else?" he asked.

"I don't know what business it is of yours, wizard, but yes, if I'd had any say in it I should have liked to be more ...valuable than 'just a rock'."

Star Swirl's manner became suddenly gentle. He smiled weakly and said: "Little stone, do not despair. You are what you were always meant to be."

"You have no way of knowing what I was meant for, wizard. You ponies, you other stones, you all undervalue me!"

"Is it not the nature of ponies to value a good, solid granite stone? The castle behind me—the most important building in our country—is made up of your ancient brethren."

"...You lie."

Star Swirl's piteous smile vanished. His eyes bulged and he started backwards. "How dare you, stone?! Me? Lie?"

"How can I know that what you speak is the truth?" the stone demanded.

Star Swirl made a number of indignant, squeaking noises. He looked at Twilight as if to check whether she was offended, too. Returning his gaze was an innocent, tiny filly, watching him with the sort of attention that can only be attained by a child who will learn by imitation. Star Swirl spun away from Twilight to compose himself, took a slow, deep breath to steady his speech, and readdressed the stone through clenched teeth.

"For future reference, should the occasion arise, wizards like myself tend to be quick to anger. Try to avoid antagonizing us."

Tom said nothing.

"I will show you, little stone, that what I speak is true. Not for your impudence, but to teach my pupil. What are you called?"

"Tom." the cranky stone muttered.

Star Swirl watched Tom under crooked, fuzzy eyebrows for a long time.

"Tom?"

Again, Tom said nothing.

Star Swirl turned away from Tom and took three steps toward the castle. He took almost a whole minute to let his ire subside.

Although it was still deathly silent in the clearing, and Star Swirl was holding almost perfectly still, Twilight did not ask why nothing seemed to be happening; Twilight could feel a building magic.

Then Star Swirl began to sing a gentle, cheerful melody in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

The tiny hoof that 'pon you treads is gone within a breath

All life that walks on mother's face walks briefly 'til its death

But you rise up from mountains' birth, and have long 'til your end,

And when in death you downward plunge, you'll upward rise again.

Your vigil, lonely, quiet, cold, sees everything we do,

Observing folly, hearing dreams, the countless cent'ries through,

I, from your long and earn-ed nap, a few moments will take:

Speak now! Shout forth the things you've learn'd!

Awake! Awake! Awake!

With each word, Twilight felt the rushing of the built-up power. It flowed toward the stones, but seemed merely to wash over them when it struck. When the song was over, Star Swirl didn't move. Twilight and Tom waited for something to happen. Twilight looked at Tom. Tom did not look back. At the moment they were both about to give voice to their doubts whether it worked, a deep voice began to speak.

"I hear you, Wizard. I have slept long. It is good to feel the sun again, but I am weary. What do you want of me?"
Star Swirl approached a stone embedded deep into the ground. It was one of the upper foundation stones of the castle, wider than twice Star Swirl's length, and rising a head taller out of the ground. Ivy climbed up one corner, not having been cleared off due to the disrepair of this side of the garden. As Star Swirl began to speak, he carefully plucked the ivy from the surface.

"A young and fearful stone, one 'Tom,' lies but a few steps behind me." Star Swirl began.

"Truly?" boomed the stone.

Star Swirl stopped plucking the ivy. "...You doubt me?" he asked.

"Why would I do that?" responded the stone.

Star Swirl resumed plucking. "He is sure that because he is granite, and not diamond or some other shiny thing, that he is not valued by ponykind. I ask that you speak some assurance to him."

"And he shall hear me?" the stone asked.

Star Swirl turned to face Tom. "Well?"

"I...I hear you now, great brother." Tom said. Apparently, he was much more polite to ancient stones than he was to wizards.

"Do you believe that I am granite, like yourself?" the massive footing boomed.

"Yes."

"I was hewn from our living mother when a stonecutter—a master craftspony chose me. When he did, he said "Here is a fine stone" and a team of his comrades spent a whole day carefully lifting me down the mountain, polishing me smoother than a gem, and setting me in place. I was lain here twice—the first time I was lain here my alignment with my brothers was off by a hair's breadth. Another whole day was spent repositioning me. None of the finest gems enjoy the attention I was given in my creation."

Tom was silent.

"I carry the burden," the massive stone continued "of four thousand and seventy-four stones smaller than I, from which the edifice we comprise is made. Many hundreds of stones like me likewise stand with me, similarly upholding many thousands of our smaller brothers. I have upheld my burden for many years, and will do so for many, many more."

"Does that help, Tom?" Star Swirl asked.

"I ...suppose. I would still rather be beautiful, but it is nice to know I am not worthless."

"Granite is certainly not worthless," said Star Swirl.

"Whether is greater? To hang from a neck, or to shelter a race?" echoed the great stone. "I return to my slumber. Remember what has transpired here, brother."

Tom was thrilled to be called the brother to a cornerstone, though he did not show it.

Star Swirl called Twilight to him. Twilight turned back to Tom.

"Goodbye, Tom. I hope you feel better."

"Goodbye, tiny pony," Tom said. He sounded pensive.

To Star Swirl, Twilight said "I'm glad you could help Tom. I didn't know stones could talk."

"Without encouragement, they cannot. It is a sad thing not to be able to ask for help when you need it." Star Swirl looked solemnly at Twilight below his bushy eyebrows and the dark brim of his hat. "Because he was able to ask for help, a problem he has probably had for centuries (for Star Swirl did not know that Tom had only rolled down the mountain weeks ago) could be resolved in seconds."

Twilight nodded.

"What can we learn from Tom?"

Twilight thought for a long time. Fortunately, the heat of the day had passed by now, and a cool breeze made the bare, sunny area barely tolerable. Still, Star Swirl hoped Twilight would come up with an answer soon—there were disadvantages to mysterious robes in late spring—bugs, for one.

"That we should ask for help when we need it."

"Exactly," Star Swirl said. "So the stone was a good teacher after all." he turned and began the walk home. Twilight giggled, waved to the rock again, and followed Star Swirl.

"Was that song a spell?" she said at length.

"All songs are spells, Twilight Sparkle. All songs are always spells."

That had some deep ramifications. She made a mental note to ponder it later. "Will you teach it to me?"

Star Swirl stopped walking and looked up. He rolled his eyes backwards, as though he was trying to read something off of the front of his own brain. "I'm not sure I remember it," he said. He resumed walking.

Twilight stared. "You...you made it up?!"

"Composition is one of the most important of a wizard's skills. Though it is a shame I hadn't a quill with me... it was quite good." He grinned down at Twilight. "This is why we take notes. The weakest ink is stronger than the strongest memory. Don't worry, with some practice you'll be able to burst into song when needed. I'm sure you'll have a beautiful singing voice." he said, and under his breath he muttered, "I've heard it."

As the two odd ponies walked away, Tom sighed to himself (or some stony-equivalent thereof).

"That was nice. Still, perhaps someday," thought Tom, "somepony will have the decency to treat me like the diamond I feel I am."

For the first time, Tom felt a little sparkle of hope.

Twilight followed the old wizard back to his manor that would become a library in her time. Starlight had prepared them a delicious, if simple, meal of spiced hay and mint tea (Apple family cider was not yet the household item it is now, nor would it be for some eight-hundred years). Twilight told the story of meeting Tom, gesturing wildly, and Star Swirl had joined in, in places. When she'd eaten, Starlight put Twilight to bed in a guest room, and when Twilight woke up, she was home.

---

Twilight was, in her innermost, intrinsic nature, an excellent learner. The lesson from Star Swirl about asking for help stuck, and once she'd overcome the obstacle of getting assistance, Twilight picked up the material quickly, the despair that had accompanied her in her transition into primary school was dispelled, and her love of studying magic began to show through in full.

On a sunny morning a few weeks after Twilight's lesson with Star Swirl, while Twilight Sparkle's mother, Twilight Velvet was preparing Twilight's sack lunch for the day, she saw a note tucked in among Twilight's school things. It was addressed to her, so she withdrew it from the pile.

Grades.

She'd know the shape of this envelope anywhere. It wasn't so long ago (she liked to think) that she'd been getting similar report cards in college. She dreaded this---ever since that last PTA meeting where Twilight---her Twilight---had been called 'slow.' She left it on the arm of the couch until after she'd seen Twilight off that morning, then sat down to face the music.

The letter read:

Nightlight and Twilight Velvet,

It is a rare and wonderful thing to have to contact a filly's parents with happy news. Enclosed you will find Twilight's grades for the most recent term. I wanted you to know that I wrote them all with my own hoof, and I meant every A+ on the page. I even had the principle witness the grades when I wrote them. Never had I seen such a sudden and obvious improvement to a foal's schoolwork.

She is a delight to have in the class, never tardy, always alert, she comes up with answers before I've even asked the questions. What's more, she's coming to me with her problems. This change has probably been the key to most of her success. The shyness she was suffering from has, at least toward me, melted away entirely.

Whatever you are doing at home must be working. She is also retaining her studies impressively, and I should very much like to speak with you regarding your methods of enforcing it at home, should the occasion arise. We are all very impressed.

As much as I wish I could keep her, I cannot in good conscience omit the following:

With your permission, I would like to present Twilight for the magical examination for Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. I know she is a bit young, but she is surpassing our curriculum with such ease, it would be wrong to hold her back by requiring her to stay here.

Joyfully,

—Shimmering Mist and the entire Faculty.

Author's Note:

My parents never got a letter like this. ...*sigh*

Comments

[Celestias Paladin]

Well... I guess this shows why Twilight was so fascinated by Star Swirl. So far I am enjoying this.