//------------------------------// // S4E2: The Times They Are a Changeling (GaPJaxie) // Story: The Starlight & Pals Magical Half Hour // by Cold in Gardez //------------------------------// “You know,” Celestia said, “there’s no such thing as ‘dark magic.’” They walked through the forbidden section of the Royal Library, where the stones themselves were black and the books were bound with ponies’ skin. Their hoofsteps echoed into what seemed an infinite distance. Starlight looked all around them, waiting for the punchline that never came. “Ha ha,” she finally said. After a moment, she added, “So uh… how would you describe all this, then? Princess.” “Impractical.” Celestia paused in their walk to approach a display case, indicating it with a hoof. Contained within was thin book, as well as a wicked looking knife that ended in a serrated barb. “Take this, for instance: The Meditation on Ashes. It contains a ritual that grants a pony the ability to breathe fire with all the strength of a dragon. But to complete the ritual, they must cut the living heart from a baby dragon and devour it.” “That uh…” Starlight cleared her throat. “Seems pretty dark to me.” “Does it?” Celestia asked. “Tell me, Starlight, how many times during a typical day do you encounter a problem that could be made easier by lighting another pony on fire?” “Not many, I guess.” “And how often,” Celestia’s tone pressed, “do you encounter a problem that is made easier by Spike’s assistance?” “Oh, well. Every day.” Starlight looked around the archive once again, struggling to read the little labels in the gloom. “I get it. So you’re saying that even if I didn’t care about Spike’s life at all, I still wouldn’t use it.” “Well you might, but if you did, I have to say it would represent very poor judgement.” Celestia tittered, then trotting over to another display case. “Or take this, for instance.” Inside the case was a crude necklace made from twine and animal fangs. Tiny rows of writing were carved onto each tooth, so small they could barely be seen by the naked eye. “The Key to the Staghorn Gate. The spells recorded on its surface grant overwhelming physical strength, but drive the caster to eat the flesh of their fellow pony.” “Right. And how many problems do I encounter that would be solved if only I could bench-press a thousand pounds?” Starlight sighed. “Plus I’d miss restaurants.” Celestia giggled. “Precisely.” “So that’s it?” Starlight looked around the darkened library. “I’m allowed to tour the forbidden section, but there’s no point because it’s all useless?” “Well, not all of it is useless.” Celestia strode several steps ahead, indicating one more case. Inside it was a book bound in cheap blue fabric. The colors were fading and the binding was coming apart. It looked nothing like an eldritch tome should. “You Can Be More,” Starlight read the title aloud off the spine. “What’s this do?” “It contains a ritual that allows the caster to perceive the souls of ponies: to know others’ pain and struggles like their own. It requires the sacrifice of a single drop of blood, taken directly from within the caster’s still beating heart.” Celestia smiled. “How your heart bleeds for them.” “Huh. I guess that could be useful. Not that I’m not already a great guidance counselor, but… Princess?” Starlight looked around the empty hallway. “Princess Celestia?” Starlight sniffed the air. It smelled like anxiety. There were other scents of course: happiness, sadness, joy, petty betrayal, puppy love romance, and boredom just to name a few. But mostly anxiety. Teenagers would be teenagers, after all. She took a deep breath, and let the smell fill her lungs. She let the breath out with a sigh, smiled, and opened her eyes. She stood in the main entrance to the school, students flowing around her like a stream flowing around a rock. There was a young filly, who heard her parents fight that morning, and worried it was her fault. There was a colt, fretting that he was indeed a colt, not a ‘young stallion’ like ponies kept calling him. Something flashed in the corner of her vision—something more serious. “Oh, Yona!” she called, before the young yak could pass out of her sight. Yona froze in the hall, turning back towards Starlight. “Stop by my office in second period, would you? Here, I’ll write a note for your teacher.” Starlight did so at once, pulling the pad and quill from her morning saddlebags. “Uh…” Yona froze. “Is yak in trouble?” “No!” Starlight said, her voice all sing-song as she filled out the note. Yak listened to older colt who told her she was a little ‘big’ for a mare. Yak needs to learn what ‘negging’ is. Yak gets friendly invitation to see school guidance counselor. Colt gets unfriendly invitation. “I just wanted to catch up with how you were doing.” “Uh…” “Run along now!” She stuck the note to Yona’s side. “You don’t want to be late for class.” Yona made her excuses and ran off. Starlight made her way to her office, in no great hurry. Her course was not the most efficient, but instead took her through the school’s busiest hallways. Three other students got notes. One of them got a hug. Starlight was nearly floating by the time she actually reached her office. She pulled the door open, waltzed in on two hooves, and then gracefully shut it behind her as she fell to all fours. “Ah. I love my job.” “Wonderful!” Starlight shrieked and lept nearly a foot into the air. Her heart raced, and when she finally did recover her wits, Twilight was laughing. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” She was seated behind Starlight’s desk, hidden by the chair’s back when it was turned to face the window. She lifted a hoof to hide her bright smile. “You okay?” “Oh… fine!” Starlight’s lip curled, and she wrinkled her nose. The smell of her own fright was thick on the air, like she’d just pissed herself. And there was Twilight. Starlight narrowed her eyes, and peered into Twilight’s soul. It was not a casual visit that brought her. “Starlight?” Twilight asked. Starlight’s head snapped up. “Sorry, am I interrupting? I wanted to have a quick word.” “Well, you’re not interrupting,” Starlight said, forcing her voice back to something casual and light. “But you are in my chair.” She decided to drop one of her little gems. “And while we’re on the subject, are you the one that’s been stealing my empathy coco?” “No!” Twilight quickly rose from Starlight’s chair, and they switched places around the desk. “Even if it is delicious and Rainbow keeps using up all the regular coco,” she grumbled. “Right.” Starlight settled back in her chair and sighed. “So what is up then?” “I just wanted to talk. See how you’re feeling.” Twilight lied. “You’ve been doing really well as a guidance counselor you know. Like, really well. Really well. Not a day goes by I don’t hear from one of the students about how you helped them when they were down. And I heard one of the little fillies actually got her cutie mark in your office?” “Nusha, yes. She likes gemcutting.” Twilight looked around the office, which had a notable lack of either gems or gemcutting tools. “And… how did she come to realize that?” “Talking things out.” Starlight shrugged. “I’m glad to hear I’m doing well.” “Oh, you are. You totally are.” Twilight sat forward, putting her hooves on Starlight’s desk. “And I’m happy that you totally are! I’m just wondering. Because, it feels like you weren’t doing this well at first? I know, sometimes when you start a few job it takes a while to settle in. So sometimes a pony gets better at things after the first month or two! But it feels like in the last few weeks you’ve gone from being a kind of awkward but well-meaning… you know. Maybe B+ guidance counselor to, uh…” Twilight cleared her throat. “To being so good at your job parents feel threatened you’re stealing their children’s love.” “Oh.” Starlight paused. “Do guidance counselors qualify for the ‘Best Teacher’ award then?” “Seriously, Starlight.” Twilight cleared her throat. “And there’s other things. Ponies say you stare at them.” “Well,” Starlight leaned back. “I have been known to stare now and again.” “And I heard you sniffed a student?” “I sniffed his collar,” Starlight corrected. “It had this really strong cheese smell.” “In the education profession, sniffing students is what we call a ‘no no.’” Twilight lifted her hooves to make air quotes. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind.” Starlight sighed and sat forward. Twilight knew nothing. Starlight could see that. But Twilight did have enough information to suspect. She knew Starlight was not the most empathetic of ponies, that she was prone to using magic to solve interpersonal problems, and that her judgement tended towards drastic action. That was enough for her to be suspicious. Suspicious and worried -- Starlight could smell that. Twilight wasn’t out to get her. Twilight was worried for her. That made Starlight smile. “Something on your mind?” Twilight asked. “This isn’t really about me, is it, Twilight?” Starlight decided to drop another one of her little gems. “Something else on your mind? Some other reason you might feel a little mistrustful of your friends right now?” “No.” Twilight frowned. “No, there’s no reason why I would…” She snorted. “Don’t try to change the subject.” “I’m not changing the subject. You wanted to know how I’m such a good counselor to students, and I’m showing you.” Starlight’s horn glowed. She filled a mug with empathy coco, and set it across the desk for Twilight. “Because I heard you felt a little betrayed when you found Applejack was selling some of her apples as ‘Princess Twilight’s Personal Stash.’” “That has nothing to do with this.” Twilight waved the matter off. But after a moment, she took a step of her coco. “I mean, she could have asked my permission first. I would have said yes!” An hour later, the bell rang. Starlight told Twilight a student would arrive soon, and wished Twilight good luck chatting with Applejack about their feelings. The two hugged, and Starlight knew Twilight’s relief like it was her own. She could feel it, smell it, see it. It made her feel warm, and all seemed right in the world. Twilight didn’t suspect a thing.