//------------------------------// // Apology // Story: My Little Academia: Friendship is Heroic! // by Fullmetal Pony //------------------------------// When Twilight opened her eyes, she found herself back in the void. Only, it was not exactly a void anymore. Stars and space dust transformed the inky abyss into a vast cosmos. A comet streaked an immeasurable distance away. Glancing down, she saw her hooves glistened against a translucent path of moonbeams. She then realized she was standing. The way her shattered legs had flailed about roiled her stomach. The injuries her horn had suffered only served to increase the nausea. Even the books and pictures that had haunted Twilight since magic kindergarten about the risks of magical misuse and overexertion contained nothing like that. Yet, in this realm of stars, Twilight found her horn unblemished, as if the exam had never happened. “Thank the stars,” came a voice. There was a flash and then Celestia stood before Twilight. Aura curled around her, but it was a deep azure and resembled smoke. Celestia did not seem to notice and bowed her head. “Twilight, please forgi— “ The glow Twilight summoned to her horn gave Celestia pause. Twilight crouched and readied herself. “I know I passed out. Don’t think I’ll hesitate just because you look like Princess Celestia now.” “Well, this is just a mess,” Celestia sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, her sight was down on the aura swirling around her. “You had better make your case fast. She’s serious.” “I know,” came a voice from the smoke. Twilight recognized it as the mare’s, but it was softer now and a bit raspy. Moving away from Celestia, the smoke coalesced into a mass at her side. “Twilight Sparkle, a thousand moons and a thousand suns cannot make up for my rash actions. I have put your life, nay, the entire fate of Equestria at risk out of fear.” Twilight kept her horn aglow and her stance solid. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?” “Hmmm.” Celestia brought a hoof to her chin. It suddenly swooped back down to the ground as she closed her eyes. A letter materialized out of the ether and floated over to Twilight. “This is a secret I have not even divulged to Luna. Ask me about it when you awaken. That should be enough proof.” Twilight tentatively extended out her magic to take hold of the letter. She kept it a safe distance away as she read it. At first, her gaze shifted back and forth between the letter’s contents, Celestia, and the smoke. Yet, as she read, her focus narrowed down to the words in front of her. Red spread across her face along with a tinge of green. When she finally finished, one of her eyes was twitching and steam rose off her. “I-if this is a fake, you’re sick, b-but if it’s real…” Twilight shook her head. “Okay, let’s just move on, why am I here?” “Tantabus wishes to make amends,” Celestia explained. “Well, she ca—“ Something clicked in Twilight’s mind. “Tantabus? Manehattan’s Nightmare Knight? How is… why are you a mare… or smoke… Gah, whatever! More importantly, you’re supposed to be a hero! How could you do all this and still call yourself that?” “The ‘Nightmare Knight’ is just one of many forms I have taken over the centuries,” Tantabus answered with Twilight glaring daggers at her, voice little more than a whisper. “The title of ‘hero’ is just one that came with the role.” “Okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, please wake me up,” Twilight huffed. “I cannot,” said Tantabus. “I can only bring ponies into dream and nightmare, not awaken them. Even with treatment, you will still be unconscious for a while.” “So, let us use this time constructively,” Celestia added. “We have much to discuss.” “Not with her,” Twilight growled. “Princess, she may call herself a hero, but she’s rotten to the core! Even ignoring the manticore, she tried to fail everypony just to prove a point! She’s a petty, arrogant bully!” As Twilight’s words rang throughout space, Celestia lowered her head. “Understand, Twilight, that what drove Tantabus to such reckless actions was not hate for you or contempt of heroes, but fear. It may sound strange, but just as Tantabus inflicted terror upon you, she did it because she knows of an even greater fear.” There were no slitted eyes on Twilight now, but Celestia’s tone raised the hairs on her neck. “Which is?” “An Equestria without a Bearer,” Tantabus answered. “I have stood at Celestia and Luna’s side for many moons and witnessed the countless foes Celestia has vanquished, but that cannot last. Before she found you, Celestia had a century or two at best to find a Bearer, all while she herself was able to fight less and less. Now, the Elements are seeping into you, accelerating the process. I… I feared what would happen if a threat attacked Equestria with Celestia incapacitated and you untrained.” “Which led her to the belief that keeping you to a life fully devoted to training was the best path.” Celestia shook her head. “My attempts to explain that the Elements require genuine care and friendship to activate went on deaf ears until now.” Tantabus wavered. “I was foolish. In my fright, I nearly destroyed the Elements I sought to protect. I have grown too accustomed to Celestia’s ease at wielding them. I should have realized activation with a new Bearer needed to be more controlled, especially given the unknown factors we could not have anticipated.” “That fault is partially mine to bear as well.” A piece of the starry path below Celestia rose up. It split in two, with one half forming into a constellation that resembled a withered flower, while the other swirled into an ovular shape. “Twilight, do you recall our first discussion on the Elements?” Twilight focused on the ovular constellation and recalled Celestia exploding the rock with her magic. The color drained from her. “I didn’t channel them correctly…” Her pupils shrank. “Am I dying? Is this what happens when you die? What do I—“ “You’re fine,” Celestia declared. Twilight simmered down and reigned in her breathing. The flower and the stone merged and were replaced by the ancient pottery Spike had destroyed. The celestial copy was whole, but multiple fractures ran through it. Celestia’s next words sent her heart racing once more, but she managed to stay composed. “Relatively. Your activation of the Elements was a success, but since Luna and I were the only ponies before you to wield them in any capacity, I hadn’t accounted for differences in biology. To put it simply, unleashing the Elements at full force like you did puts too much strain on a unicorn’s body. I suspect the same could be said if a pegasus or an earth pony were to wield them.” “So only an Alicorn can wield them then?” Twilight asked, feeling her heart sink. “Not necessarily,” said Tantabus. “There is much we do not know, but it seems an Alicorn is necessary to wield the full force of the Elements, but with proper regulation, you may be able to use them in a limited capacity.” “’Limited’ being a loose term here.” There was a pause. Celestia shifted her focus from Twilight to Tantabus and then back to Twilight. “My familiarity with the Elements may now be a disadvantage, but Tantabus could instru— “ “No.” A stomp emphasized Twilight’s refusal. “Even if she’s says she’s sorry, how can I trust that she won’t throw somepony off a cliff just to get results?” “Twilight, that i— “ A tendril of smoke wafted up in front of Celestia’s face. Tantabus’s wheezy voice and tired tone reminded Twilight of Celestia when she was weakened. “No, she is correct. It would not be the first time I have lost a Bearer’s trust.” “That…” Even though she was empowered in the dreamscape, the shadow of Celestia’s true form flashed across her face. She quickly returned her expression to a reserved neutrality. “You know I have forgiven you.” Twilight cocked her head to the side. Then, she recalled Celestia on her knees with her horn grinding against the floor. The promise from that day was still clear in her head. Her attention went to Tantabus. “What exactly are you?” Celestia’s jaw tightened. “Now is not the ti— “ “We have the time,” said Tantabus. Despite a lack of eyes, Twilight felt Tantabus shift its focus onto her. “Perhaps you will better understand why Celestia thinks I am still a suitable mentor if I explain. I leave that choice to you though, Twilight Sparkle. You have earned that and much more. Perhaps you should take a seat.” With steely eyes, Twilight sat down. The starry path felt softer now, like a large cushion. “The form I assumed is of an ancient evil,” Tantabus began. “And my creator.” The constellations glinted above her. Stars zoomed through the sky, forming into muzzle, ears, eyes, fangs, and armor. A few stars shifted from white dots to icy blue orbs, completing the visage of the mare Tantabus had taken the form of. “Over a thousand years ago, that mare appeared and sought to plunge Equestria into eternal night. Where she would have ruled in place of Celestia, I was created as a dark mirror to Luna. Rather than bring ponies peace of mind through dreams as Luna does, I summoned nightmares to force ponies into obedience through fear.” A piece of the mare’s starry mane split off and reorganized into the rough shape of a pony. Just as it did, there was a flash. Suddenly, a crescent moon and a near-blinding star filled up a large portion of the cosmos. The two celestial bodies raced forward, their glow driving back the mare and her spawn. A rainbow-hued flare erupted off the star and dispersed the mare back into stars, yet the pony-constellation remained. “When Celestia and Luna defeated that mare, I remained. Having been purified by the Elements, I assisted Luna for some time.” The pony-constellation orbited around the moon and the star. Twilight felt a twinge of panic go through her when the moon fractured and broke apart while the star roiled, dimmed, and shrank. “Then, she and Celestia suffered their injuries. I took up the majority of Luna’s duties while also helping Celestia craft a system that would help find a pony suitable to be the next Bearer. If we failed to find a Bearer in time, the system also set up a loose militia on constant deployment to ensure law and order were maintained.” “The Hero Agency,” Twilight muttered. “Yes,” Tantabus continued. The moon and the star faded back into the cosmos while the pony-constellation remained. However, its form widened, shrank, grew wings, lost a horn, and continued to shift while Tantabus spoke. “I took on many guises through the years, and personally scouted out dense populations for a Bearer, selecting the best of the best among heroes. Routing out villains just happened along the way, but I never took much heed of it. When I was not donning the title of a hero, I offered my services at the School. As a creature born and comprised of magic, I have a unique understanding of thaumaturgy that better allowed me to suss out potential Bearers.” “It’s why Tantabus’s actions came as such a shock to me,” said Celestia. “While a Bearer was not forthcoming, many of my personal students started out under Tantabus’s instruction: Clover III, Megan the Magnificent, and Mystic Rune just to name a few.” “You…” Twilight pointed at Tantabus. “… taught all of them?” “Basics in their years at the School,” Tantabus replied. “What I thought was enough to inherit the Elements. After transfer failed, I left them to either Celestia or their own pursuits, and continued the search. I see now that the talent I sought was not all that was required in wielding the Elements though. When I took notice of them, many had to have the concept of selflessness drilled into them. None would have ever thought to throw all their might at an enemy for the sake of a filly they barely knew. More than a cutie mark or magic, that is what makes you unique, Twilight Sparkle.” The response left Twilight searching for words. So much had been dumped at her, mixing with concern over her injuries and her anger at Tantabus. As the feelings melded into a mass of confusion, a hack drew her attention back to Tantabus. Her form vibrated and her ethereal glow brightened. A part of her stretched down to the ground. Three more rough approximations of legs followed. A ghostly tail formed while the majority of Tantabus’s form coalesced into a wavering barrel. A bit of her mass curled upwards and took on the shape of a featureless unicorn head with a wispy mane. It was like looking at a silhouette filled with stars. “I have no right to ask anything of you, Twilight Sparkle, and to mentor you now would just be a distraction.” Tantabus’s legs bent. Her head arced down and pressed against the starry path. Despite everything she had done to Twilight, the act of supplication from such a powerful creature summoned up a feeling of unease in Twilight. A season ago she was an impotent and scrawny filly. Now, she had had two of the most powerful entities in Equestria bend the knee to her. “But if you ever struggle with the Elements, I am always at your call.” Tantabus’s entire body shook. Bits of her wisped off into space. She coughed again, and collapsed back into a cloud-like form. The realization struck Twilight that perhaps whatever allowed Twilight to appear physically fine in the dreamscape did not apply to Tantabus. A bit of pity welled up in her, even as it forced her to recall ever heinous act Tantabus had committed. A glint to her left buried it again. The space in that direction appeared a bit brighter. Celestia drew closer to Tantabus, but a tuft of smoke kept her at bay. Tantabus’s focus remained on Twilight. “I have said my piece and it seems you will awaken soon. I know an apology will not make up for my actions, and you may not trust my promise, so I accept whatever actions you take. Celestia is an excellent teacher, so I am sure she will guide you well.” Tantabus began to fade away. Twilight called out, “Wait.” Tantabus reformed and waited for Twilight to say more. Taking a deep breath, Twilight looked straight at her. “You’re right, an apology alone won’t make up for this. Nothing you do for me will.” “Twilight,” Celestia interjected, “I think Tantabus fully underst— “ “I’m not finished.” Red tinged Twilight’s face. With a bowed head, she stammered, “S-sorry, Princess.” Straightening back up and sharpening her glare, she focused once more on Tantabus. “If you really were the teacher of so many legendary heroes, then prove to the whole class. Show me you’re not just bossing ponies around to get what you want.” “Twilight Sparkle…” A few shimmering stars streaked through Tantabus. “You have my eternal gratitude. I shall do all in my power to make not just you, but all the applicants that passed, the most astounding of heroes. I’ll even waive the point deduction to make up for my outrage.” “Hold it.” A hoof shot off the ground. “I don’t want you running off just trying to get on my good side. That’s what got us here. That attack was a part of the exam, so it wouldn’t be right to fully waive it. It was a twenty-point deduction and an automatic end to your exam, right?” “Correct.” As the space began to brighten, Twilight pointed at Tantabus. “Make it ten points and have whatever any applicants that you caught did after they were freed count.” “It shall be done.” “Well, that’s a start,” Twilight sighed. It felt like something was pulling her back, distancing her from Celestia, Tantabus, and the dreamscape. A glance down revealed that the path was floating away from her, or rather, she was floating away from it. Her hind legs stiffened and a dull ache rose up around her horn. With the last of her concentration, she pointed down at Tantabus. “If you do anything out of line though, I want you gone, got it?” “That is only fair,” Tantabus replied. “Congratulations, Twilight Sparkle. It may be a little early to say this, but I have no doubt you have aced your written exam as well, so allow me to welcome you to the School for Gifted Ponies.” Celestia grinned as Twilight’s body grew bright. “See you in class, Twilight.” “Wait,” Twilight called out, “you didn’t say anything about yo— “ With a flash, Twilight vanished from the dreamscape. Tantabus waited a moment and then turned her attention to Celestia. “Well, we managed to keep my teaching position at least. Are you certain staying as Tantabus is the right move though? Would it not be easier to tell her everything?” “That can come in time.” Celestia’s lips curved down and her eyes grew stony. “You’ve seen what happens when we rush. We shall guide Twilight in wielding the Elements and allow her to enjoy her time here. You know even more than I do that this is something she’s dreamed of for years, Luna.” “I know,” Luna sighed. “But if she despises me now, how will she handle the truth about Nightmare Moon?” Celestia bit her lip and looked up to the stars. “A concern for another day.” “Hmm, yes. I’ll have to be in top form if I ever hope to gain her trust back.” Despite a lack of any solid form, Celestia sensed something shift around within Luna. “So, what is this secret you told her?” Celestia grinned. “That is something for Twilight and me to take to the grave.” ~~~ The faint scent of antiseptic and wooden tongue depressors came to Twilight before she opened her eyes. The ache she had first felt in the dream was a bit stronger, but nothing compared to the dizzying, nauseating backlash she had felt before passing out. With a shudder, she peeled black the blankets covering her lower body and was greeted with bandaged hindlegs. Her face scrunched up in confusion. She may have been in shock from the state her horn had been in when she had seen her legs, but she was certain they had been pulverized by the backlash. Curiosity growing, she glanced up. Bandages concealed the true state her horn was in, but she felt no wires or bolts welding the damaged alicorn back together. She reached up to feel for any cracks or missing pieces. “Stop!” came a command just as Twilight’s hoof pressed against the bandages. Her leg shot back down, and she found herself caught in a snowy mare’s sapphire glare. The mixture of shock and fear froze Twilight in place, but it could not prevent a small zap of excitement. Above the mare’s sharpened eyes was a cap emblazoned with a red cross surrounded by four hearts at the corners. An identical cutie mark graced the mare’s flanks, assuring Twilight she was face to face with Redheart, the healing hero. When she saw the Twilight was still, Redheart relented, allowing her expression to soften. “Try to avoid touching your horn for the rest of the day, and definitely no magic. Are you feeling serious discomfort anywhere else?” Even laying on the bed, Twilight felt how worn out her muscles were. The test had lasted only a few minutes, but taking stock of herself, Twilight equated the soreness she was feeling to one of Celestia’s more ruthless days. “Nothing worse than what I’ve trained for.” “I’d hope not.” The nurse advanced over to Twilight and brought a hoof to her forehead. “Not after that manticore attack.” Twilight’s eyes bugged out, and she reeled back. “What? How do yo—” Redheart shot a leg behind Twilight’s head and held it firmly in place. Another leg whipped out and pressed it against her brow again. She gave a tsk and a shake. “Well, you were unconscious that time, but I had still hoped our paths wouldn’t cross again so soon. Unfortunately, the Princesses’ students usually get to know us Heart Nurses fairly well.” “Is that why the Heart Nurse title gets passed down?” Twilight asked with widened eyes. “I would have never guessed that tradition was actually a cover! I just read that certain heroes receive it for their vital role in healing others and ensure sa—” A hard candy flew into Twilight’s mouth, silencing her for a moment. Redheart sighed. “Always such inquisitive ones. That talent of yours is something else though, and something dangerous. Even my magic can only heal you to a certain extent, and it consumes a bit of your energy as well. So, just take it easy, and have your friends help you get home. But first, I believe her majesty would like a few words with you.” Celestia emerged from behind the right side of the partition that boxed in three sides of Twilight’s bed. She offered a small smile to Twilight, but given her weakened form, it appeared a bit unsteady. “Nice to see you up.” “You too…” Twilight bit her lip and glanced at Redheart. “Is… is it okay for you be here like that?” “The Elements are not the only treatment I have sought,” Celestia replied with her eyes cast down. With a breath, she summoned a grin back to her face and drew closer. “Now, I believe there was a matter we needed to discuss to verify our conversation with Tantabus.” Twilight flinched backwards and rapidly waved a hoof in front of her face. “That’s fine! That’s fine! This is all the confirmation I need. Let’s uh, never bring it up again, maybe work on a memory spell to erase that but keep the rest of the conversation, please?” Redheart watched Twilight’s purple hue turn to bright red, and then glanced at Celestia. “I’m going to demand a pay increase if this keeps up.” “I’d be more than happy to,” Celestia chuckled. With a grin, Redheart pulled the sheets off and extended a leg out to Twilight. Grasping it, Twilight pulled herself up and off the bed. It stung a bit when her hind legs first bent, but, letting go of Redheart’s leg, she managed to find her footing. It was then that she remembered the other injuries she had suffered, but her right foreleg now appeared unmarred. Lifting her left foreleg and glancing at its frog only revealed a small burn scar. “Quite impressive work she does.” Celestia smiled and placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Now, I know you have many questions, but we can cover that in office hours, for now, yo—” Wide eyes and an ear-to-ear grin taking over Twilight’s face cut Celestia off. “I knew it! You’re guest lecturing this year!” “Well, it was scheduled no matter what.” Celestia’s vision went upwards. “I did want to surprise you after the test with the information, but, well…” “Who cares?” Twilight exclaimed. “This is gonna be amazing! I can’t wait!” “Perhaps a little wait is good,” said Celestia. Her attention shifted to Twilight’s horn and her bandaged legs. “Take it easy as you prepare for classes. Oh, and try to act at least a little surprised when you get the official letter, for your parents’ sake.” She glanced over to where Twilight assumed the door was. “Now then, I believe you have some friends waiting outside.” “Friends?” Twilight cocked her head. “Like with an s?” “Yes,” Redheart replied. “I told them you’d be out for a bit while the healing took effect, and since you and Princess Celestia were here, I wanted to make sure this room was secure, but they were quite insistent.” A frown crossed her face. “And I didn’t know what else to say to that poor pegasus. She looked just about ready to die of wo—” Twilight was in a gallop before Redheart even finished. Redheart barked something at her, but Celestia chuckled and held her back. Twilight made a beeline for the doors past the rows of cots. With a heave, she thrust one of them open and burst out into the adjacent hallway. “Twilight!” Four voices cried out. Pinkie’s leg zipped away from Fluttershy’s back and Pinkie herself flew like a rocket off the bench. She zoomed into the air, shot her leg out, and brought it down on Applejack and Rainbow Dash’s, smacking their locked legs onto the floor. “Draw!” “Hey!” Dash yelled. “I was totally gonna win!” “It’s all yours.” Applejack jumped off the ground and gave her hoof a shake. Her focus shifted to Twilight. Advancing over to her, she asked, “You okay, sugarcube?” “I think I—” Claws wrapped tight around Twilight’s leg. Spike pressed up close against her. “I heard what happened! I knew I should ha—” Feeling a bit of the fur on her leg grow damp, Twilight used her free leg to pet Spike’s spines. “It’s okay, Spike. Plus, if that doesn’t get a pass, I don’t know what will.” “But…” Spike sniffed and stared at the bandages protruding out of Twilight’s head. “Your horn…” “Just needs some fine tuning,” Twilight said, summoning up a smile that did little to calm Spike with its unsteady nature. With a sigh, Twilight bent down and pulled Spike close. “Until I can get the hang of it though, and even afterwards, I’ll always need a partner to help back me up.” “Still mighty impressive,” said Applejack. Leaning back, Twilight raised up to face her. With a deep inhale, Applejack pulled the hat from her head and placed it at her chest. A forlorn look affixed itself to her face. “And more than I could do. I know this wasn’t the real deal, but if those…” She shuddered. “… eyes were hitting you the same way they hit me, well… I’ll fight anypony that says you don’t belong here, Twilight.” “I think I’ve had enough fighting for the day.” Twilight grinned and bowed her head. “But thank you, Applejack, that really means a lot.” “Hey.” Twilight stiffened. Jolting her head up, she locked eyes with Rainbow Dash. Making her way from where she’d been sitting with Applejack, she drew close to Twilight. Applejack backed up a step to let Dash get right beside Twilight. Twilight stood like a statue, unsure if the air around her was actually thickening the way it did under certain weather conditions or if it was just her imagination. “You had Fluttershy real worried,” said Dash. “She told me everything about what happened, so I just got one thing to say.” “Y-yes?” Twilight stammered. Without warning, Dash swept out a leg. With Redheart’s warning still fresh in her mind and her head still a little fuzzy, Twilight flinched and shut her eyes. No blow came. She could still feel pressure on her leg though. It was tight, about as strong as Applejack’s grip, but Twilight did not sense any animosity behind it. Opening her eyes, she was greeted to a sight that took her a moment to register. A grin barely contained on her and wide eyes had replaced Dash’s scowl and glare. Her wings twitched and slight tremors ran through her body. The revelation that Twilight knew the look all too well smacked her so hard, Dash might as well have actually struck her: Twilight had worn it to every Summer Sun Celebration. Rainbow Dash was amazed. A filly Twilight categorized as a living typhoon was amazed by her. “Show me sometime!” Dash proclaimed. “I thought spells might give you a few good licks, but nothing like whatever the hay you did! When you’re all good and healed up, let’s see how you stand up to some of the best flying in Equestria!” “What?” Twilight asked. It was less a question and more a reflex to the barrage of questions Dash had filled her already drained mind with. Dash pulled back and shrugged. “Okay, maybe full ‘destroy giant monsters’ blast is a bit much, but you and me, Twilight?” Dash locked legs with Twilight again and pulled her close. “Consider us rivals!” “What?” Twilight asked again. “Yeah, I know,” Dash smirked. “Quite the honor, and you’ll have a lot to live up to, but I owe it to you for saving Fluttershy’s skin. I mean, I told her this was dangerous, bu—” “Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy shouted. Everyone felt a chill go down their spines at the sight of her brilliant aquamarine eyes bearing down on Dash. She flew off the bench and stomped over to her. “I’m not a foal! I worked just as hard as you did! And you still haven’t apologized for how you acted before either!” “But I was ju—” “No buts!” Fluttershy shouted, eyes now appearing ablaze. Even Sunset at her most enraged could not summon a glare like hers. In a blink, Twilight envisioned Tantabus in place of Fluttershy, but the stare summoned less of a primal fear and more of an instinctive need to submit to it or suffer a wrath of legendary proportions. “Okay okay!” Dash yelped, turning her head so as not to directly face Fluttershy anymore. With a deep exhale, she lowered her head. Fluttershy seemed to have stolen all the bravado she had summoned, leaving an unwilling embarrassment in its place. Dash now resembled a filly about ready to shuffle to her room after receiving a scolding from her mother. “I…” She snorted and grumbled. “I’m sorry for being a bit of a jerk earlier.” “Um…” Twilight stammered. “Forget it.” Dash whipped out her wings. With a leap, she took to the air, mane flowing over her face, shielding her expression from Twilight. “I’m not in the mood now.” There was a whoosh of air. Applejack grabbed her hat while Twilight and Spike closed their eyes. Fluttershy stared up at the empty space Dash had occupied and frowned, a few tears filling the corners of her eyes. “Aww,” Pinkie moaned. “I didn’t get to tell her where the party was at.” “I…” Fluttershy sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. Everything was going so well, and then…” Just as Fluttershy looked like she was about to break into full on crying, Applejack spoke up. “Yeah, it’s a shame Rainbow Dash left like that. I ain’t about to pry into whatever it is that’s going on with her, but can’t say a whole bushel of honeycrisps are jonathans just ’cause of one sour fruit.” Everyone stared at her with a raised brow. Pinkie was the one to ask, “So like one bad apple?” “Uh, no…” Applejack’s cheeks flushed red. “I, uh, just meant to say Rainbow Dash didn’t seem like that bad of a pony. A little standoffish is all.” The blush faded and a grin took its place. “Looks like she’s got a competitive spirit though, and I’m always up for fun little challenge. Whatever’s bugging her I’m sure we can work out.” “I hope,” Fluttershy murmured. “Buuutttt…” Pinkie rose between Applejack and Fluttershy. Extending her legs apparently longer than should have been possible, she pulled them close and affixed party hats onto Fluttershy’s head and above Applejack’s hat. “We’re still here, and I think we’ve all got plenty to celebrate! I have a feeling we all made it in for sure!” “Pinkie Sense?” Applejack asked. “Nope!” Pinkie chirped. “Just a good old gut check! So, let’s party!” Pinkie then dashed away from Applejack and Fluttershy and rushed over to Twilight. “That’s okay, right? I mean if you have other plans, that’s okay too, but I’m soooooo excited right now, and we’ve gotta do something to celebrate finishing the test, and you firing some super awesome magic beam thingy that saved me and everypony else from failing or something like that, okay?” Spike looked up at Twilight. “She’s not set to explode or something, right?” “Just with energy,” Twilight chuckled. To Pinkie, she answered, “I did want to do a little celebration with a friend, but you sound like you’ve got something a bit more exciting in mind.” Her smile broadened. “Is it okay if I invite her?” “Yepperooni!” Pinkie exclaimed with a grin the diameter of a dinner plate. “You can never have too many friends!” ~~~ There were two rooms within the bulbous top of the School’s central spire. On one side of a dividing hallway lay the Principal’s office. Currently, the door was locked and the only light streaming in was the rays of the setting sun. Lamplight streamed from the other room as did a multitude of voices. Inside, heroes known throughout Equestria pored over stacks upon stacks of files. Quills were dipped, empty red ink bottles were replaced, and shuffling filled the air.  Questions and answers intermingled with comments and criticisms to fill the room with a hectic buzz despite night fast approaching. This had been the mood since shortly after the exam had conclude. Whenever somepony finished marking up a file, they sent it down to one end of the table, where the principal waited. A breeze would catch the file and its contents would fly out and float in front of the wind’s tiny summoner. While his wings continued to summon up the breeze, his eyes scanned over the information, the comments, and the few pictures from the exam that found their way into a file here and there. Despite his diminutive frame, his face was stern and those sitting near him felt the force of his gales when he blasted a file away and into a large bin behind him. A few staff members would take files from out of there with frowns, sighs, and shakes of their heads before pulling out some stationary and getting to work writing out a letter they knew by heart. It still pained them when they spotted marks just a few points off or the one comment that sank an entire practical. Not every file was destined for the bin though. For the select few that made it past both the staff and the principal, their destination was at the other end of the table. Everypony would glance up and a few of the younger members would pause their work whenever a breeze carried a file across the table, hoping to spy a name or a picture of whoever the talented pony was. After all, many of them had agency positions to fill and this was the cream of the crop. The files came to rest at the opposite end of the table. The position was the only one to feature a permanent seat, etched out of the same ancient stone that comprised Canterlot Castle. For most of the year, it sat empty, its decadent design and carved sun serving as a reminder throughout regular board meetings of whom the School ultimately served. Today was one of the rare days Celestia rested upon the School’s throne. Hidden behind an illusion spell, she had to stand on her throne to reach the table, but the locket did its work, and nopony batted an eye as she carried out her duties. In addition to quill, ink, and paper, a bubbling kettle of wax and the royal seal rested in front of her throne. With polished grace, she would open a file when it reached her, scan the information and the comments, and then get to work writing a letter. Unlike the ones the staff jotted down, each letter Celestia wrote, while similar in form, contained unique accolades that highlighted the recipient’s strengths. Occasionally, Celestia made note of an issue she spotted in the file that she felt deserved a constructive criticism. This letter opened the path to greatness, but the centuries had taught Celestia how narrow that path was. Sometimes, these letters needed to serve both as key and warning. The final touch was placing the letter in an envelope and affixing the royal seal to it. With so many applications over so many years, at some point, Celestia had allowed the event to become mechanical, save for the few unique comments she threw into each letter. The actual search for a Bearer had always come later, when Luna could truly start sussing out the top tier students. This year though, Celestia felt true investment in the process. Watching each file float over reminded her of Hearth’s Warming Eves long past when Starswirl would scrounge up whatever he could find to give her and Luna something fun to play with. She had always loved to ponder what Starswirl had hidden behind sackcloth. Now, she had already sealed Spike’s letter and was quite impressed with the amount of rescue points and villain defeats he had scored. She knew Twilight’s file was upcoming, but each new student excited her as well. Hidden behind the partition in the nurse’s office, she had spotted the fillies that had waited all afternoon for Twilight, and had been delighted when she had received their files. An Apple was certain to be a fast and loyal friend to Twilight, and perhaps Twilight could give her a boost on her written work. Celestia knew of the Pies from the long lineage and service to the Crown, although she didn’t recall any of them looking quite as energetic as Pinkamena. Rainbow Dash was unmistakable with her signature mane, though Celestia had not been able to get the best read of her, but her spectacular performance in the practical outclassed her middling written score. Finally, there was Fluttershy—the filly that had finally drawn the Elements out of Twilight. Celestia considered her words carefully in writing her letter. She had done quite well on the written exam, but had severely blundered her start to the practical. In the face of danger, she had initially fled and hid behind a dumpster, an act of cowardice that could easily fail an applicant, even one with a strong written score. Yet, when Twilight was in peril, she had rushed to her aid and shown quite the talent. An ability like that was rare for a pegasus to develop, and she had used it well to defend Twilight, netting her a few comments and points. As Celestia pondered the right words, a high-pitched chuckle from the other side of the table drew her attention. “Oh-ho,” Seabreeze exclaimed. “Quite a good eye that one has. Can’t recall the last time somepony spotted me drifting through the test site, and to keep me safe in the throes of absolute terror takes truly impressive willpower. A little more confidence, and she’ll make quite the hero.” “Indeed,” Celestia grinned. She then went back to work on writing her letter. Once Fluttershy’s letter was sealed, she awaited the next one, eager to see more of Twilight’s future classmates and hopefully friends. A rough estimate of the A and B hero classes was already forming, along with the general studies group—those with high written scores but not quite enough points on the practical to get on the fast track to a license the hero course provided. Every now and then, Celestia would bring her pen down on a file’s section and make what was for all intents and purposes a decree setting up the classes, ensuring Twilight would be among the fillies she had already risked life and limb for. The action drew a few whispers the staff. Celestia had allowed her part in the selection process to be a ceremonial one for many years, but a perusal of the School’s constitution revealed that she had just as much authority as the principal and could even decline an applicant with a show of good reason. Those laws had gone unused for many years though. So, when Seabreeze neither threw a file into the bin nor passed it to Celestia, she stood at attention while her illusionary form straightened its back. He had been looking at the file for a long time, and was now doing the same for the next file. A small knot formed in her stomach. “Your highness,” Seabreeze called out as he shut the second file. The chatter stopped, quills fell to the side, and attention went to either Seabreeze or Celestia. With a flap, Seabreeze lifted both files into the air. “I think these two have had our attention ever since the dragon incident, and now we have seen what they can do.” He clasped his hooves in front of his face. “They both have shown great talent: Ms. Shimmer was relentless in her pursuit of villains, setting a new record in defeats, and Ms. Sparkle was perhaps even more impressive, being one of the few applicants to take out an evacuation level threat.” Seabreeze’s brow furrowed. “However, in achieving that record, Ms. Shimmer deprived other applicants of points when she could have easily used her skills to earn rescue points instead. Her attacks are also some of the more destructive ones we’ve seen. In a real emergency, her collateral damage could be a major setback.” His glanced then shifted to the other file at his side. “Ms. Sparkle could be seen as the exact opposite case. Her magic is on an unbelievable level, and was able to hone in on Professor Tantabus alone without directly harming a single student he had trapped. However, in the process, she brought unimaginable harm on herself. Defending others a key pillar of heorics, but self-sacrifice of this level will do more harm than good in the real world. “The comments for each of these applicants show a split I have not encountered in my years serving the School. I too am conflicted. Our duty is to foster the next generation of heroes that will defend Equestria and inspire hope in future generations as well. But, we must also recognize the risks we expose both students and the public to with each acceptance. My experience falters here, and so, I beseech you and ask for your wisdom in these matters.” The room was silent. Staff members waited as still as statues with held breath and tensed muscles. Never had any of them faced a situation like this. After what seemed like hours, Celestia spoke. “This School is no stranger to risks,” she proclaimed. “I have seen graduates fail, I have seen them make mistakes we should have taught them to avoid, and I have seen them turn from the path of light to the road of darkness. What I have learned throughout all of this though, is that we are an institution that draws talent. No matter what we do, that talent will find a way to express itself. “We hold a position to guide it though. It is wrong to say we can control it, and to do so would only bring ruin upon us as a bastion of education, but we can offer direction. I have seen these little ponies face the greatest of dangers, and in them I saw the spark of greatness. I have confidence in the staff here, and I have faith in these two that whatever challenges block their path, they shall overcome them with our guidance and become heroes.” A round of applause went up. With a grin, Seabreeze sent the files over to Celestia. Taking them with a bit of a wider smile, she set to work writing a letter she had been thinking about for months. As the cheers died down and everypony returned to work with renewed vigor, words spilled from Celestia’s quill onto Twilight’s letter. Yet, as she finally tipped her crown to her Twilight, her mind was already thinking about what to say to Sunset as well. With her own eyes, Celestia had seen what a powerful and fearless pony she was. Her memory was filled with guards and heroes who had withered under the fiery breath of a dragon. As a mere filly, Sunset had managed to retain enough of her wits to unleash spells that could have taken out a lesser foe with ease. Celestia knew she had to choose her words well though. Within Sunset, coupled with her talent and power, were pride and a disdain for ponies she imagined could be strong, but did not work hard enough. It gave Celestia a little relief that it was not an outright dominance over weaker ponies, given how Sunset had treated her in her true from. Based on reading her file and her own personal encounter with Sunset, Celestia hoped her worst traits were just childish bullying. While her confidence in Luna had taken a heavy blow over the summer, the numerous students Luna had instructed and disciplined when needed assured Celestia that Sunset would get the necessary guidance to cull those negative aspects. Still, she would share in Luna’s instruction this year, and, while Twilight was her main focus, all the students had earned her attention and wisdom. So, writing a proper letter was an important first step. Taking in the scene and basking in the fresh wave of energy Celestia had instilled in everypony, Seabreeze mused, “Quite the interesting class indeed,”