Knights of Harmony, Episode I: Rise of the Elements

by bahatumay

Chapter 6

Twilight Sparkle began pacing. “Welcome to your first day of training. Usually, in the Castle of Harmony, this is when younglings are introduced to their instructors and Master Celestia; but you already know me, Master Celestia isn’t here, and you’re certainly more mature than a youngling.”

She pointedly ignored Pinkie Pie’s cheerful yet derisive gigglesnort, as well as Rarity’s subtle sliding hand motions that drew attention to her hips.

“As you know, you’re here because you’re Harmony-sensitive. Harmony is a sort of energy field that permeates the entire galaxy. It’s in every living thing. It surrounds us. It penetrates us.”

Rainbow giggled. “Penetrates,” she repeated quietly.

Twilight scowled, but did not comment. “It binds the galaxy together. Some individuals, like you, can sense it and manipulate it. This brings me to my first lesson. Those of you with lightsabers, hold them out, please.”

Rainbow unhooked hers from her belt. “On or off?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Rainbow jumped as her lightsaber handle flew out of her hand of its own accord. Twilight Sparkle caught it, and the rest of the lightsabers soon followed.

“Huh?”

Spike walked up, carrying a large box. Twilight placed them inside before reaching down and unhooking her own. “A Harmonist’s greatest strength is Harmony itself,” she explained, placing her lightsaber into the box.

Rainbow reached a hand wistfully out towards her departing lightsaber as Spike walked away.

"You'll get them back when we're done," Twilight said flatly. She continued. “A lightsaber is a physical manifestation of a Harmonist’s ability to commune with Harmony. Therefore, if you want to improve your lightsaber abilities, and grow stronger, you must start with the basics. You must learn to channel Harmony.”

Rainbow quickly brightened. “You mean we’ll get to learn how to lift stuff, too?” she asked excitedly. She held her hand out and squinted, apparently trying to retrieve one of the snacks Spike was currently munching on. He couldn't help but grin. Humoring her, he tossed one over and she caught it. “Alright!” she cheered.

She was less than pleased when it started wriggling in her grasp.

“Rainbow Dash, I didn’t know you liked mealworm biscuits.” Twilight grinned. “I imagine it's an acquired taste.”

Rainbow held it out by the tips of her fingers. “You know, I think I just lost my appetite,” she grimaced.

Twilight lifted it with Harmony, then tossed it over to Spike. He jumped and caught it in his mouth, prompting a round of applause from Pinkie. “Snack-time aside, we’re going to start with a little game called push-feather.”

“That sounds boring,” Rainbow interjected.

“I think it sounds fine,” Fluttershy said. “Nice and safe.” She glanced around. “None of us have feathers, though.”

Twilight grunted. “It’s not… Here. I’ll show you.”

* * *

Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash stood about fourteen paces apart, facing each other, their feet about shoulder-width apart.

“So I just push you over without touching you?” Rainbow asked.

“Basically, yes; but it’s more like I’ll push you-” and here she gave Rainbow a gentle push, “-and you react.”

Rainbow adjusted her weight, but did not fall over.

“Good. See? You felt that. Now feel it coming, and redirect it.”

Rainbow glanced briefly at her hand, and then swung it down, as if she were trying to fan Twilight over.

“No, not like-” Twilight flailed her hands like a kitten batting at twine. “That’s not going to do anything. Feel my push coming and redirect it. I’ll do it again.”

“I thought I was supposed to knock you over!” Rainbow protested.

“No, you’re supposed to react to my pushes and redirect them so I fall over. Basically, you’re working smarter, not harder.”

Rarity giggled. Rainbow turned and scowled at her, and then turned back to Twilight. She held up her hands once more. “Alright. Bring it.”

Twilight gave her a gentle push, and Rainbow rocked backwards. She tried to push, her hands moving helplessly for something she couldn’t see.

“Again?” Twilight tried.

Rainbow exhaled. “I'm not feeling it.”

Rarity tittered.

Rainbow scowled. “Oh, you’re so good?” She stepped aside, dramatically gesturing that Rarity should take her spot. “Let’s see you do it, miss smarty-tails.”

Rarity strutted forward, her head held high. “Very well,” she said.

Twilight waited until she was ready, and gave her a gentle push. Rarity took a stumbling step backwards.

It was Rainbow’s turn to laugh. Rarity scowled and held up her hands again. “I’m ready, darling,” she invited.

* * *

Twilight shuffled through the ship, distracted and looking rather discouraged. Spike looked up from polishing his blaster, and raised an eyebrow and hissed.

“How did it go?” Twilight repeated, turning around and dropping heavily into the nearest chair. “Uh… not great,” she admitted, bringing a hand up to massage her temples. This turned into a grimace as her left hand pushed hard enough to cause a bit of pain; she was still getting used to the new prosthetic. She dropped her hands in her lap. “I don’t think they’re feeling it. I mean, they could feel me pushing, obviously; but none of them could push me back.” She exhaled. “They couldn’t even feel it coming to try and push back. How could they not feel it?”

Spike hissed sarcastically.

Twilight winced. Spike was not, and had never been, Harmony-sensitive. “Right,” she said sheepishly. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget.”

Spike shrugged and gave a noncommittal grunt. He’d gotten over it a long time ago.

Twilight closed her eyes. “I shouldn't have tried to teach them all together. I think I’m going to see them individually. Private lessons always helped me.”

Spike nodded, then hissed something else under his breath.

“I apologized to Moondancer for that!” Twilight defended herself.

* * *

Twilight looked around. “Fluttershy?” she called. She pursed her lips. This was where she’d found her last time. Maybe she was swimming under the water? That would make sense, being a nautolan and all. Luckily, she was prepared.

“And Sunset says I shouldn’t carry everything on my belt,” she chuckled as she reached into one of the pouches and pulled out her aquata breather. She put it in her mouth, took a brief moment to steady herself, and then dove in.

The water in this little river was fairly swift, but it was still somewhat murky. This was not particularly comforting. She looked around, seeing the many rocks and algae growing underwater. A fish darted by, and she decided that maybe it was kinda peaceful down here.

But creepy. Definitely very creepy. Very dark and creepy and she couldn't see behind her and-

She swam upwards, breaking out of the water like a giant fish. She kicked her way over to the side and pulled herself out, panting. Maybe she'd have to do some more water training when she got back to Canterlot.

“What are you doing?”

Twilight jumped. “Oh! Fluttershy! I was, uh, looking for you, actually.” She turned around… and her voice trailed off.

Fluttershy was holding a large, very hairy, and very toothy animal upside down on her lap, and she was looking more confused at Twilight’s sudden appearance than anything else.

“What did I miss?” Twilight asked, casting a nervous glance at the beast on her.

“Not much,” Fluttershy said, holding her hand over the animal’s paw. “Little Beiit here-”

Twilight coughed. “‘Little’?!”

“-was just telling me about his afternoon. He found a whole patch of seriberries. Do you want to join us?”

Twilight squatted on the edge of the bank. “If you don't mind, I'll just sit over here,” she said in a voice that most certainly did not squeak.

Fluttershy looked back down. “Are you here about today’s training?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Twilight admitted. “I'm meeting with everyone individually.”

“Is it that I couldn't feel how to redirect your pushes at all?” Fluttershy nearly whimpered.

Beiit, sensing her distress, raised his head and bumped her gently on her chin. She cracked a smile and continued scratching him.

Twilight paused for a moment. “Actually, Fluttershy? You’re doing alright.”

Fluttershy flushed modestly. “A- are you sure?”

“Harmony is something that exists. If you try to force it, you’ll get nowhere. But if you just let it happen, you'll get it.”

“So I should just let it happen?”

“You're letting it happen now.” Twilight smiled.

Fluttershy smiled back as she scratched behind Beiit’s ears. “This just feels natural to me. What you're teaching us is…”

“Unnatural?” Twilight completed dourly.

“New. I was going to say ‘new’,” Fluttershy quickly said.

“Right.” Twilight slowly stood up. “For next time, pretend I'm an animal. Listen to me; all I'm doing is speaking a new language. Feel what I'm doing. Find Harmony in your own way, and you'll succeed in this.” She paused. “That is, if you’re coming back tomorrow. Are you coming back tomorrow?” she asked.

Fluttershy glanced down, glanced over at Beiit, and then back up at Twilight. A tiny spark of hope shone in her eyes. “Yes. Yes I am.”

* * *

Applejack gently slid her hand down the tree branch. She nodded, confirming something to herself. She stood up, drew her lightsaber, and with a practiced motion, ignited it and sliced through the branch at a very specific angle. She examined the cut, ran her thumb across it, and then nodded.

“How did you know to cut there?”

Applejack jumped. “Twilight! Hey.” She scratched the back of her neck. “How’s it going?”

“Fairly well. You seem to be distracted by something.”

Applejack scuffed a boot against the ground. “Yeah, I guess. I couldn't get a hang of the whole Harmony thing, and I guess it's just bothering me a bit.”

Twilight crouched and rested a hand on the tree trunk. “How old is this tree?” she asked.

Applejack squinted, unsure where that had come from, but answered truthfully. “About twenty years.”

“And how long did it take to start growing fruit?”

A tiny smile flitted across Applejack's face. “About seven.” She sighed. “I get it. I shouldn't be too upset if'n I don't bear fruit right away. It's just…”

Twilight remained silent, letting Applejack silently work it out.

She finally spoke. “It was all so new to me, something I didn't quite understand, and I hate not understanding. I'm not a scholar type what can debate theoretical gobbledygook and whatnot; I like understanding. I mean, trees I can understand. Trees are alive. Trees communicate. And you can't tell me they don't. That’s how I know where to cut, what needs water, what’s infected with mites…”

Twilight nodded triumphantly. “That’s Harmony, present in every living thing. You’ve been feeling it all along. You just didn’t know you were feeling it.”

Applejack nodded slowly, processing this. “So…”

Twilight held up a fruit. “You know what it feels like. So do it to the apple. Listen to it. Feel the Harmony in it. Then just lift it.”

“How?”

Twilight shook her head. “I can't tell you that. Only you can.”

Applejack shifted her weight. “I dunno, Twilight. Honestly, I'm not sure this is for me.”

“Just try it. At least once,” Twilight urged. “If it's not for you, I'll leave you alone.” She paused. “But Spike will probably be back regardless for more of those pies.”

Applejack cracked a smile. “Well, you'll always be welcome back either way.” She exhaled slowly. “Ok. Apples ain't quitters. I'll try it.” She closed her eyes, and held up her hand. She clenched her eyes tighter, her fingers extended and clawed, as if reaching for something.

“Let it flow, don't force it,” Twilight warned.

Applejack nodded and stopped her hand, but still she reached.

And then she felt something.

Her eyes widened, and she glanced up at Twilight. Twilight nodded encouragingly, and Applejack closed her eyes and reached out her hand again. Now that she knew where to look, she could find it again. The apple vibrated, then lifted up on one of the bumps on the base. It fell back down; but Applejack had tasted victory and she was not about to let it slip through her fingers. She closed her eyes tighter and tried again. The apple shook, and then tipped… and then slowly rose into the air.

Twilight smiled. “You did it,” she whispered.

Applejack opened one eye, and sure enough, the apple was floating. She laughed, a triumphant look shining in her eyes, and in that split second, her concentration broke; the apple dropped.

Twilight was quick enough to catch it. She tossed it up and caught it in her open left hand. “That could have been messy,” she joked. Not quite ready to trust her left hand's new grip yet, she floated it over to Applejack with her right. “You got it.”

Applejack reached up and took it, and then looked at Twilight again. She held up her hand and tried once more; and once more, the apple rose into the air. “I did,” she said reverently, this time keeping it suspended. “Haha! I did!” She raised her right hand as if pushing. “You can have the apple. Just for me saying tha-”

But in her inexperience, she pushed outward too hard, and the apple zoomed out, nailing Twilight right in the stomach. With a pained "oof!", she dropped to one knee.

“Oh, blast! I'm so sorry!” Applejack rushed over and knelt beside her. “Are you alright?”

“‘m f’ne,” Twilight managed.

“Are you sure? I feel so bad…”

Twilight gave her a weak smile. “Hey, if Celestia can forgive me for leaving a burn mark on her neck from sparring an hour before her big meeting with the senate, I can let a little pain go.”

Applejack considered this, and snorted. “Looked like a hickey?” she asked.

“Looked like a hickey,” Twilight confirmed.

* * *

Rainbow Dash was not terribly hard to find; Twilight merely needed to listen for the sound of angry words. She found her out in the desert part of the moon, surrounded by tools underneath a small monstrosity of a vehicle that looked as though it had been haphazardly cobbled together out of scrap metal, the remains of previously-junked vehicles, and the things of nightmares. Nearby, a young female human stood, silently egging her on and holding a couple more spanners of different sizes at the ready.

“Rainbow Dash?”

“Ow!” Rainbow bumped her head against the metal. “What gives?” She poked her head out, and Twilight was relieved to see her expression soften. “Oh. It's you.” She extricated herself completely and stood up. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Not much,” Twilight said. “Just wanted to say hi. And talk about training earlier.”

Rainbow Dash looked over at the young girl beside her. She dug around in her pockets and tossed a few credits over. “Hey, Squirt, you mind running and grabbing us something to eat?”

The girl perked up as she dropped the spanners and caught the chips. “Yeah! I’ll be back before you know I’m gone!” She hopped up on a little one-person speeder—which also appeared to be homemade and composed primarily of scrap metal and held together by twisted wire and good luck—and zoomed off, her short, spiky hair whipping in the wind.

As soon as she was out of sight, Rainbow looked over guardedly at Twilight, but didn't say anything.

“She's pretty fast,” Twilight started.

“Yeah,” Rainbow said. A little smile flitted across her face; this was a safe topic. “She's a little speedster. Reminds me of myself, really.” She paused, and then her smile turned wry. “Except maybe a little brighter, ‘cause she hasn’t been kicked out of school yet.”

Twilight glanced over. “What are you building?”

“It's just my little weekend project,” Rainbow shrugged, but she was unable to keep the pride from her voice. “It's a little junkracer. Scoots is my copilot-slash-race manager. We're gonna take all the underground circuits by storm!”

Her junkracer looked just like that: junk. Twilight thought it looked like it would barely handle a simple rainfall, let alone being a storm of any kind. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Only if you get caught,” Rainbow said with a smirk.

“I… see…” Twilight said slowly. “And you're driving that?”

“Sure am! I'm the best, fastest pilot ever, remember?”

Twilight nodded slowly. She'd been referring to its piecemeal appearance, but she decided not to press the issue. “They say you've got to have fast reflexes for that.”

Rainbow shrugged modestly. “I guess. I mean, I've never had a problem. I can always tell what's coming next on the track.”

“How do you mean?” Twilight asked.

Rainbow shrugged again. “I dunno. It's just… there. Like, I can see it, when I can't see it yet. I just know, you know?”

Twilight nodded. “That's Harmony.”

“It is?”

“I'm sure of it. Remember the whole 'Harmony penetrates everything' part?”

Rainbow expelled air out of her nose. “Yeah...?”

“I meant everything. The world you're on, the ship you drive; it's everywhere. Even in junkracer tracks.” I assume, anyway. As for me, 'not dying' sounds like a better option. “You just happen to pick it up better than most.”

“Oh.” Rainbow blinked. “It's so natural, though.”

“It wouldn't be the first time I've heard that today,” Twilight grumbled.

Rainbow nodded, mentally making the connection. “I think I get what you're saying. I'm overthinking it. I just have to take it easy; let it happen naturally. Just like flying.”

Twilight inhaled, and filled her cheeks with air and held her breath for a moment before letting it out. “Sure. We'll go with that.”

* * *

Twilight approached the doorway of Rarity’s shop again. But before she could open the door, a younger twi’lek, with skin of a similar light color (but baring much more of it) burst through, narrowly missing Twilight, shouting, “Bye, Rarity!” over her shoulder as she left.

“Sui’tei!” Rarity called after her. “Don’t-! Ugh.” She conceded defeat. “Be back before dinner!”

Now a little bit hesitant (and wondering if any more twi’leks were forthcoming), Twilight slowly poked her head in. Rarity stood beside her desk, leaning over, wryly massaging a temple. She glanced up at Twilight, and brightened as she recognized her. “I swear, it’s a good thing I love that girl, because she’s enough to drive me barvy.” She straightened up. “And welcome back, Twilight! I don’t suppose your robes need another washing?”

“No,” Twilight said. “Not yet, anyway. Thank you, though.”

Rarity dipped her head respectfully. “You're quite welcome. How may I help you?”

“I was actually hoping to help you.” Twilight winced. That had sounded better in her head.

Rarity tilted her head back in the twi’lek equivalent of raising an eyebrow.

Twilight exhaled. “It’s about our training this morning,” she said.

“Oh, yes,” Rarity said, now sounding somewhat distracted. “That was surely something.” She held her hands out, and then picked up a tool hiding behind a bolt of cloth.

“I know it didn’t go quite as I’d hoped,” Twilight said.

“No, I can’t say it did for me, either,” Rarity said airily.

There was a pause.

“So, I hope you can make it to our next session?” Twilight tried.

“One can hope.”

There was another long pause.

Rarity looked at Twilight expectantly. “Is there something else, darling?”

Twilight sighed, admitting defeat. “Not really,” she admitted, turning around and dropping against her workbench with a thump. The tools wobbled, some teetering dangerously close to the edge. “By now I’ve usually figured out some way to relate Harmony to what everyone else already does.”

Rarity reached out and caught a small gem that was falling off her bench. “Oh?” she asked, now intrigued. “I’m assuming everyone else has been having doubts about continuing our training?”

Twilight squinted. Rarity hadn’t even looked at it when she’d caught it. A new idea occurred to her, and she held her hands behind her back. “Yes,” she said, making a subtle movement with her right hand.

Rarity reached behind her and caught the tool that Twilight had pushed. She hefted it, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously at it before she turned her attention to Twilight. “Did you do that?”

Twilight nodded. “You weren’t even looking.”

Rarity put the tools back on the workbench, further away from the edge this time. “Well, no; with a sister like mine, you learn to keep track of things without looking if you don’t want sharp crystal shards all over the floor and in the bottom of your foot.”

Twilight glanced down, but Rarity was wearing boots with an intricate design etched into the false leather.

She caught her looking and shook her head. “Oh, not me; Sui’tei,” she corrected. “She doesn’t like shoes.” Rarity frowned. “She doesn’t like clothes very much, either.” She crossed her arms irritably and huffed. “I swear, she’d go naked if I’d let her. Where did I go wrong, I ask you...?”

Twilight glanced around at the numerous clothes blanketing the walls, and then she glanced down at the robes she wore. She owned two pairs, one for winter and one for summer, and she had left the summer set in Canterlot. Perhaps she was not the best person to answer this question.

Rarity huffed once more, and then glanced up at Twilight. “Is this the part where you try to convince me that my ability to sense when something of mine is in danger may be a passive Harmony skill analogous to sensing when I am in danger and thus it would behoove me to return for the next training session?”

Twilight winced. “Maybe?” she said sheepishly. “How did you…?”

Rarity tittered. “Oh, Twilight. Any twi’lek worth her fungi uses her brain for more than just attracting males.” She swished her lekku demonstratively.

Twilight nodded. “Sounds good,” she said slowly. “See you next week?”

Rarity nodded, her sharp teeth poking out of her determined smile. “Wouldn't dream of missing it.”

* * *

Twilight ducked her head under the welcome sign as she entered Sugarcube Corner. This place was odd in that it neither looked like a sugar cube, nor did it seem to sell cubes of any kind. In fact, it didn’t even seem to be a corner; it was built in a round fashion, probably to seat guests all along the rim of the ring. Perhaps it was a family name?

A somewhat plump woman looked up from behind the counter. “Good afternoon!”

“Good afternoon… Mrs. Sugarcube?” Twilight guessed.

“Cake, dearie,” she answered with a little smile. “Cup Cake. What can I get you?”

The origin of the name of the store would probably forever remain a mystery. “I’m actually here to see… Pinkie Pie.” Twilight cracked a smile as something occurred to her. “Cake and Pie, huh? Are you distantly related?”

“I doubt it. We’re from opposite sides of the galaxy,” Cup answered with a little shrug. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Twilight shrugged. “Everything happens for a reason.”

“If you say so,” Mrs. Cake said, turning back to her work. “Pinkie’s just back there in the kitchen.”

Twilight followed where she indicated and found Pinkie, organizing burlap sacks of ingredients on the table. “Hey, Pinkie.”

Pinkie bounced. “Twilight! Hi!” And she rushed over and clasped her in a tight hug.

Twilight grimaced as she realized that Pinkie had just gotten flour all on the back of her robes. She reached back and brushed some of it off.

“What brings you by?” Pinkie asked, walking back over to the counter.

“Oh, I just wanted to chat a bit about our training,” Twilight answered.

“Oh, yeah,” Pinkie said. “The game was pretty fun, even if I couldn't push you back. It tickled!”

Twilight blinked. Of all the things she’d expected, that was not one of them. “Yes. Well. I was wondering if I could do anything to help.” She paused. “Training-wise,” she quickly clarified.

“Aww,” Pinkie said, letting drop an apron she'd gotten from somewhere. She quickly brightened. “That’s ok! You don’t mind if I work while we talk, right? Gonna hit the post-work lunch rush pretty soon!”

“Yeah, no problem,” Twilight said.

Pinkie quickly found a large bowl and began measuring out the flour. “Today's going to be a great day,” she started. “We’ve been selling these cakes like they're going out of style!” She paused. “Which it probably is, now that the thousand year celebration is over and after that great meanie crashed the party,” she admitted, “but we’re planning on releasing a new style of cake soon, anyway.”

“What kind?” Twilight asked hesitantly.

“We’re stacking them!” Pinkie announced. “It’s like a two layer cake! It’s like eating two cakes at once!” She dropped a small bag of sodium bicarbonate on the counter, then opened it by drawing her pinksaber and slicing the tip of one corner off.

Twilight pursed her lips. As much as she felt that using a lightsaber as a simple cutting tool was almost sacrilegious, she had to admit that Pinkie had great control. She’d clipped only the packaging; its contents had remained untouched. “You’re pretty good with those,” she said.

“Mm-hm!” Pinkie agreed. “I’ve had lots of practice. I think you can get better at anything with practice.”

“That’s true,” Twilight agreed. “Like Harmonist training?”

“I think so,” Pinkie said. She flicked her hand, and a drawer opened at her will. She reached in and pulled out a rolling pin, then bumped it closed with her hips.

Twilight blinked. “Did you just…?”

Pinkie glanced back at the drawer, and then at the rolling pin. She gigglesnorted. “I guess I did!” she said. “Here, I'm just kinda… in the zone.” She made wiggly motions with her fingers.

Twilight nodded hesitantly. “Is there a ‘zone’ you could get into for training?” she asked hopefully.

“Well, yeah, I bet there is; but I just get so easily distracted!”

Twilight brightened. This sounded like a lecture Celestia would give. She straightened up. “One of the most important things to do before any training is to clear your mind of any…”

Pinkie jumped. “Oh! My cupcakes!” She darted off.

“…distractions,” Twilight finished weakly.

Pinkie stuck her hands into protective gloves and pulled the cupcake tray out of the oven. “Oh yeah,” she said happily. “These look great. You want one?” she offered, holding out the still steaming tray.

“I think I'm good,” Twilight said. “Thanks, though.”

“Ok!” Pinkie made a little flicking motion with her hand, and a cupcake flipped up out of the tray and onto a nearby plate. She lifted it up and began frosting it.

Twilight felt her eye twitch. Natural. Harmony was just natural to these girls. Something about this didn't seem fair.

Pinkie, completely unaware of the aneurysm she was threatening to give Twilight, finished and held a cupcake out. “Are you sure you don't want one?”

Twilight sighed, conceding defeat. She took the cupcake. “You know what? Sure. I'll take one. See you at our next training.”

“Bye!” Pinkie said cheerfully. “Ooh, and take one for Spike!”

Twilight quickly left the kitchen, passing Mrs. Cake again. She chuckled lightly at Twilight's bewildered expression. “Pinkie has that effect on people,” she said.

“Yeah. She's... something,” Twilight conceded.

“Try not to think about it too much,” Cup suggested. “It's just Pinkie being Pinkie.”

Twilight pursed her lips. That went against everything she'd been taught, and she knew that one day, she'd get to know Pinkie a little bit better. But for right now, she had new trainings to put together; new ideas to work with. It wasn't hopeless; she'd just been looking at everything from the wrong angle. The day looked brighter already.

And the delicious cupcake didn't hurt, either.

Comments

[badninja]

That was a great scene where Twilight and Applejack where talking and Twilight admitted that she game a minor injury to Celestia that looked like a hickey. I am sure it was a subconscious reaction but that was daring of Celestia to just leave it. Great chapter and looking forward to the next one!

[Maran]

Great training sequence with Twilight finding a way to relate Harmony to the other five.