Much to Sumac’s growing dismay, he discovered that he didn’t much care for castles. Big, confusing, a bit drafty, and everything it seemed had hard, uninviting edges. Though beautiful, the structure felt aggressive to Sumac, though he could not clarify his thoughts that led him to this conclusion. For some reason, he missed the comforting confines of Trixie’s wagon, though living in a tower might be nice.
Castles had islands of warmth and cosiness, but also vast stretches of biting, unpleasant cold where no heat reached. Hot rooms and freezing hallways. There was also the echo, because some spaces were so obnoxiously large that even words spoken in soft conversation caused unwanted echoes through the cavernous expanses. Even worse, there were ponies who called this place home, and Sumac held a growing sense of pity for their very existence.
Leaning into the brush, he closed his eyes and trusted in Twinkleshine to hold him up. Each stroke left behind tingles that danced like live electric current just beneath the surface of his skin. The tug and friction upon each follicle created a static charge that interacted in odd but pleasurable ways with his own electric attunement. Celestia had said something about his electric nature, but what had already fled his memory.
The brush started at the base of his jaw, traveled down his neck, and came to an end upon the soft curve of his withers. Twinkleshine was thorough in her work, brushing the same place over and over again until a fine sheen manifested upon his pelt. The overall effect of the sensation caused Sumac to feel a little drowsy, even though he wasn’t sleepy.
“I’ve put a temporary enchantment upon your poncho, Sumac,” Twinkleshine said while her steady, even brushstrokes threatened to be his undoing. “It should keep you warm even though it’s below zero outside. Pebble’s coat too… so don’t you worry.”
“What about the earth ponies?” Sumac asked, his eyes closed.
“What about them?” Twinkleshine replied, her brush now moving to a new spot in need of brushing.
“How will they stay warm tonight? They don’t have magic and enchantments and spells to make clothing warm.”
“Well…”—Twinkleshine’s eyes darted in the direction of Limestone, an act that Sumac was oblivious to, and when she resumed speaking, there was a hesitant rasp to her words—“this is traditionally why Canterlot is a unicorn city. But earth ponies are clever, industrious, and resourceful. They’ll find some way to keep warm. There’s fires and they can huddle together. There’s a lesson that I want to teach right now, but I can’t seem to find the words. I suppose this sounds bad if I can’t reach the conclusion that was floating around in the back of my mind.”
“I understand it,” Limestone said with the hint of a chuckle in her voice. “The Pie Family Rock Farm is my Canterlot. Unicorns that come there run into some real problems, unless they find a way to adapt. Sometimes ponies live in impractical places for other tribes and it falls on them to adapt and adjust if they want to visit.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Twinkleshine paused in her efforts for a second, pulled Sumac a little closer, and then caused the colt’s ear to twitch by breathing on it. “I can’t get over how bad this might sound. I was trying to make a point but it came out sounding tribalist. I opened my mouth before I had my words in order.”
“I didn’t take it that way.” Limestone’s husky chuckles filled the room. “Sometimes I run my mouth off before I have what I want to say sorted out. I have a lot of half-baked ideas. Anyhow… sometimes, as a pony, you have to make sacrifices to do what you want to do. This is super-important tonight, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m here with Pebble and I’m probably going to freeze my cutie mark right off, but that’s okay. In a way, the freezing cold and the weather makes it even more special… I mean, we earth ponies are willing to endure this just for our own tribal culture, because this is a big deal to us.”
Sumac now had a faint glimmer of understanding, and he became thoughtful while the delightful brush strokes continued. He felt a poke, a soft one, and from the small hoof he knew it was Pebble. She was an earth pony, he was a unicorn, and in their togetherness, Sumac believed that anything was truly possible—with the exception of flight. Flying was probably out of the question. Pebble’s shortcomings were opportunities for his greatness, and his own failings gave Pebble a chance to prove her worth.
For Sumac, this was a profound moment of clarity and his underdeveloped mind had some trouble encompassing the whole of it. Mind racing, he even saw a potential drawback for alicorns; being of three tribes in a single body brought total self-reliance, and as such, alicorns had no need for others, no dependence upon the greater herd of the equine species. Perhaps this was why alicorns were so aloft in their aloofness, above the common pony tribes. What need did alicorns have for others? As beings of perfection, they had no need for unicorns and their magic; pegasus ponies and their flight offered no inspiration or ease of travel; and as for the strength, endurance, and clever wit of the earth ponies, it was unnecessary.
What need would one have of others when one was a herd unto themselves?
“I think it’s sad that you can’t seem to brush yourself.”
Pebble’s dull, flat deadpan made Sumac’s eyes flutter open and it took a moment before the filly came into focus. She was wearing a dark green dress made of heavy fabric that was trimmed in midnight blue. Her brown face was almost unreadable, but her brilliant blue eyes held the faint hint of mischief. With the light shining the way it was, the insides of Pebble’s ears were almost pink, if something so brown could indeed, be called pink. Looking at her caused his heart to flutter and crackling static electricity danced around the base of his horn, which left his mane a bit frizzy.
“Bathing, brushing, these things you can’t do for yourself,” Pebble continued, her tone as cold and flat as iron, “this is why you smell. Having lived with you for a time now, and having shared a bed with you, I have reached the conclusion that colts are gross. I have proof.”
Limestone began to snicker, which caused Sumac’s cheeks to suffer a searing flush.
“Even Megara tries to be clean and she’s a wild creature. I’m confident that I can get her to stop licking herself. But she’s a wild creature and she likes to stay clean. So what’s your excuse, Sumac?”
Before Sumac could respond, the door banged open and a triumphant Trixie burst into the room, holding a decorative gold-gilt scroll case above her head. “I have returned with papers we all must sign if we are to be wed tonight! This castle really does have everything, it’s amazing! They have a licensing clerk for weddings in the administration wing. Get your frogs ready!”
Ears pricking, Sumac blinked a few times, befuddled, until he asked, “Frogs?”
Limestone too, was just as confused. “Frogs?”
“Noble blood must be accounted for,” Trixie replied, her demeanour undergoing a rapid change from triumphant to helpful. “Twinkleshine and I are nobles, which means sending paperwork to the blood registry. Just a little pinprick for Twinkle, Lemon, and I. Blood is the ultimate proof and quite difficult to forge. Also, certain magics of convenience are attuned to blood, so this paperwork can be called up in a hurry if it’s needed.”
“You unicorns have made the act of getting married complicated,” Limestone said, her statement blunt and to the point.
Twinkleshine shrugged and her brush ceased its motion. “Changelings, imposters, clever unicorn wizards with body transmutation spells, issues in the past have made this a necessity. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
Sitting on a balcony glazed with ice, Sumac watched as the sun considered its grand retreat. It wasn’t evening, not yet, not for a while, but the sun was getting low. It seemed smaller somehow, more distant than usual, and this was the shortest day of the year. If he focused, he could feel the magic that moved the sun, a constant steady tug that was very much like a clock that needed winding. Soon, Celestia would give the parting sun the nudge it needed to send it beyond the horizon.
It was beyond cold—the frozen air stung like nettles—but he was warm enough in his poncho. Pebble was pressed tight against him and Boomer’s head poked out from the neckhole of his enchanted garb. Trixie, Twinkleshine, and Lemon Hearts all stood together, all of them watching as the sun dipped ever-lower. Limestone, wrapped in a heavy coat, had her hooves on the rail and she was peering down at the courtyard full to brimming with ponies down below.
Each of them was somewhat startled when the door opened behind them and a dark blue alicorn emerged onto the balcony. She strode with purpose, her neck straight and her head cocked with regal bearing. The teasing wind ruffled her feathers and snowflakes whipped about on the breeze intermingled with the stars found in her mane and tail.
Limestone almost fell over the rail in her mad scramble to be respectful.
Sumac tried to say something in greeting, but his voice seemed to be off in hiding for some inexplicable reason. Princess Luna was looking right at Trixie with a deep, penetrative stare, almost as if she was reading her distant descendant’s soul. Pebble clung to him, trembling, quaking, and her shivering had nothing to do with the cold. Though the skies overhead were relatively clear, billowing snowflakes landed upon the lenses of Sumac’s spectacles and lingered, obscuring his vision.
Princess Luna uttered one word: “Lulamoon.”
In response, Trixie gulped, and with this sound, Princess Luna’s icy, imperious gaze softened into something almost maternal. Sumac could feel Boomer wiggling against him and her tiny claws prickled while she moved away from Pebble, who was still shaking. A smile that rivaled the sun’s warmth appeared upon Lemon Hearts’ face, while Twinkleshine’s lips pressed into a tight thin line.
“We art pleased with this union,” Princess Luna said, her ears unmoving and statuesque in the playful breeze. “If truth were to be told, this eases Our frantic, worried heart. The most prominent bloodlines that We hast spawned hast borne a terrible curse, the cost of Our folly and madness. House Lulamoon has seen its ruination and it seems to stand in name only. With but mere unfortunate circumstance, it would meet its end and cease to be. Yet, even though this union might seem counterintuitive to continuation of the bloodline, it pleases Us and brings Us joy.”
Trixie’s response was a soft whisper, difficult to hear over the sound of the crowd below. “I don’t understand.”
A blink. Another. Princess Luna’s eyelashes collected swirling snowflakes and held them, like foals nestled in secure cradles. “This is a union of your choosing. There is no coercion, no manipulation, no overbearing political pressure—none of these things. Thou art to be bound for reasons of joy, for reasons belonging solely to the heart. Thou hast emerged from the madness, grief, and sorrow like refined iron from a crucible… free of dross and made stronger. Before mine eyes I see a tempered mare worthy of my bloodline… and recovering from mine curse.”
Hot breath whistled in and out from Sumac’s nose.
There was a moment of hesitation before she continued, “And We art made hopeful by this recovery. Twilight too, struggled, but she had the advantage of support… of a great many friends. She had family that nurtured her and she was mine sister’s student. Whilst Twilight most certainly had her trials, and We would never take away from those, Twilight has had favouritism and good fortune alleviate the worst of the curse. Thou hast not. Thou hast suffered, endured loneliness, deprivation, public ridicule, shame, and so much else. Yet… thou hast endured, where many might be broken, shattered even, you stand before Us having reclaimed your noble bearing. For this… We art proud.”
A single tear froze in the corner of Trixie’s eye and sparkled in the light of the fading sun.
“We givest thou Our blessing.”
“Thank you,” Trixie gasped. Her mouth continued to move, but no other words seemed forthcoming.
Reaching out one wing, Princess Luna—with great gentleness—closed Trixie’s mouth. “This bond is special, three mares uniting for a common cause, gathering beneath a shared banner for a duty most noble.” Her wing, still extended, gestured at Sumac. “He is dear to you, not as a sorcerer, but as your son.” She moved her wing to touch Lemon Hearts, who blushed at the contact. “This is not pretentious social-climbing or jockeying for peerage, but a sincere declaration of an affection that goes beyond the bonds of mere friendship.”
Here, Princess Luna paused, drew herself up to her full height, and her luminous eyes bore down upon Twinkleshine. “In the past, thine house birthed many warriors, knights, wizards, and soldiers. The blood of your ancestors has soaked the soil for the great Equestrian cause. But with peace came change and this hot blood, once treasured, has cooled.”
Twinkleshine bowed her head, but Princess Luna lifted it with her wing.
“Serve Us and rekindle the fire that sets the blood to boil. Defend what is precious to mine heart. Swear fealty to Us and We shall make thee our standard-bearer. Our mare-at-arms to guard what We hold most dear. Give Us your name and We shall give you Our writ and measure in return, so thou mightest smite Our enemies. Embrace the old ways and keep the noble past alive, Twinkleshine.”
Holding his breath, Sumac awaited for Twinkleshine’s response…