//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 // Story: Life of Lyra // by Damaged //------------------------------// [[ A Joyce Perspective ]] I sat down at the desk and looked at the sheaves of paper stacked neatly. The test. Ruffling my wings, I looked up at Rough Stitch. "You can start now," Rough Stitch said, and sat down at the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom. Two weeks of study—of playing catch-up on pony medicine—had been eye-opening. Rough and Princess Celestia had both been correct that the Royal Library was a huge help. Flipping the first page over, I looked at the header. Magic in Medicine I thought I'd be throwing away this section. A smile spread across my lips, and I knew I was showing my fangs. The basic ailments of magic was not a short list—the number of ways ponies had messed themselves up from doing stupid things was almost as long as the list of things doctors removed from embarrassed human butts. The first question was literally the easiest to answer: Which forms of magic can cause detrimental effects? I had to hold back a giggle as I wrote the answer: All of them. Thinking, though, I continued: Light, Dark, Change, Motive, Emotive, Chaos, Harmony. The basic forms of magic. I stopped. This was stupid. I'd been trained better than this. Scanning downward, I began making small marks beside the questions I knew the answer to, and another mark beside those I had no clue about. The test—it had been explained—gave points for right answers, took them for wrong answers, and neither for unanswered. Page after page I flicked through, quickly setting myself up for the work ahead. It reminded me of a triage nurse. At last, I had marked over a half of the questions as doable, left about half the remainder as maybe, and the last section was something to worry about. Turning back to the start, I picked the next do-it-marked question. I worked hard at each question. The ones I'd marked to be completed first were all things I'd studied and learned the pony way of medicine. Some of it contradicted what I'd learned—particularly when it came to pharmacology—but for things like broken bones, dislocated joints, cuts, abrasions, even much of the pony body's system was fundamental and transferred. Circulatory system. Check. Lymph nodes. Check. All the usual organs. Check. Horn… Okay, some things would be different. Hoof care was easier, since I'd done the animal side of things, but a magical unicorn horn was nothing like the simple horns of deer or other animals from Earth. But I'd done the work and knew the basics. Cleaning and dressing horn-wounds, what medications could and couldn't be given to unicorns, and even ways to deal with a unicorn who had no sense of when to let their physician help them. I just finished doing all the questions I knew easily when Rough cleared her throat. "You are halfway through, Joyce," Rough Stitch said. Halfway through, but over halfway on the questions. Flipping back to the start of the examination, I turned the first page again. I had to be careful on this pass, too many wrong answers could drop my score below a third. Despite my confidence that I had answered all the questions so far correctly—thus securing me a push forward through my schooling—I had something to prove not just to the staff at the school, but to myself too. That isn't to say I answered frivolously. Many of the questions about magic went unanswered, but when I got to physiology I regained the lost advantage. Dr. Bright Meadow had met with me several times, and while she examined my wing (no doubt to publish a paper before her colleagues on the anatomy of bat ponies), I plied her for information. Thus, when it came time to know what the pony words for a tonsillectomy was, I knew it. Bright Meadow might not have liked me jumping into her school, but that didn't mean she wasn't an extremely intelligent pony with a lot to teach me. I was three-quarters of my way through the second pass of the paper when Rough Stitch said, "Ten minutes remaining, Joyce." I'd spent nearly two hours on the maybe questions, but I had to keep going. By the time Rough cleared her throat again I'd only gotten another four questions answered. I lifted my head to see her smiling face. "It's time, Joyce. Please bring your papers up here," Rough Stitch said, but didn't stand up from her seat. "Would anyone—pony—be able to complete this in four hours?" I passed the papers over to Rough, expecting her to dismiss me. Instead, however, she started flipping through the pages. "I managed it in just under five hours." As Rough Stitch flipped through, her eyes scanned the pages. "You said you knew nothing of magic medicine? You answered more than I expected." I shuffled between my hooves like a girl—filly—before her first teacher. "The topic is interesting. I found some primers on the topics, and like to think I have a basic understanding of it." "As you know we invited the students to help us build this test. Ninety percent of the questions come from them. We added some of our own." Stopping her flipping, Rough Stitch circled one of the unanswered questions under the Magic in Medicine section. "I didn't know this one, either. Professor Horse added that." I bit down—thankfully not on my tongue—at the knowledge that there was some trick questions. It was stupid of me to think there wasn't since it was a common method to test a student's capacity to understand and skim a document. If I'd been trying to do the exam from cover to cover in one go, that question would have completely bamboozled me. "I had no idea with it. I was taught that if you don't know an answer, in medicine, you don't guess. But, that was one testing aspect of this, wasn't it?" "Is it now I tell you that you have probably spent more time as a student than I have as a teacher? You're right, of course, and I notice you skipped the question like you didn't even notice it. Well done," Rough Stitch said. She continued flipping before stopping and stacking the sheaves of paper. "We will grade this and get back to you. Same time tomorrow?" It was a Thursday, and I'd picked it because I didn't want to wait a whole weekend for the results. "Sure." I took a deep breath. "Thank you, Rough, for everything." "I'm not an idiot, Joyce. When I see a letter from Princess Celestia asking us, in flowery words, to allow a new pony to join the school, I can see that somepony with better judgment than I believes this is where you should be. I'm just giving you the chance to prove Princess Celestia right." Rough Stitch stood up and turned for the door—with my test now secure in her saddle bag. "I'm confident that tomorrow will bring good news." I watched Rough walk out of the room and sighed. There was nothing else to do or say. I'd done the test and could relax. But I wasn't the kind of person—pony—who could forget something like this. I gathered my things, slung my saddlebags to my back, and left the school. Like Dr. Bright Meadow, I'd spent some time watching wings, however my attention was on the differences of pegasi given my understanding of bat ponies. A pegasus could practically step into the air. Their wingbeats didn't drop lower than their stance, so they could flap from a standing start and be in the air. Finding some space off to the side of the entrance of the school, I spread my wings out and lifted them. There was a special way of holding my wing-fingers that caused air to slide off my wing easier—I set my wings just so and jumped. My bunching rear legs shot me into the air nearly a full ponylength, which is when I brought my wings down in their first beat. Set my fingers, grip the air, pump down. Adjust to slide, pull wings back up. Three quick strokes dragged me into the air, but the moment I had some height I was completely free of gravity (poetically speaking). I had a target, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to enjoy flying. Beating my wings until I was higher than the castle, I started swaying left and right by cupping more air in one direction or another. It was lazy flying, but the sensation of all my wing muscles working together in perfect harmony was worth no longer being human. Yup, I'd totally thought that. I didn't care about being human, or being pony for that matter. I was me, my daughters were safe and pursuing their own dreams, and I could fly. My destination was the same place I'd spent the majority of my days since getting the access chip from Princess Celestia: Royal Canterlot Library. Passers by gasped when my hooves hit the ground and I pulled my wings closed, but I'd become somewhat of a regular here for the staff. Ignoring the ponies who had apparently never seen a bat pony before (which honestly wasn't their fault), I walked to the front door of the library and pushed it open. "Joyce. It's good to see you," Alpha Betical said. I'd been completely unsurprised that a librarian pony had the name Alpha Betical, it fit the situation with a certain measure of rightness. "Good afternoon, Alpha. How're the books today?" I kept my tone low. It was perfectly alright talking softly at the front of the huge, glass-fronted library, but courtesy to those studying was still important. The stallion I was speaking with was thin and a little gangly, though he seemed fully grown. Sky-blue fur adorned his body, a pair of wings rode high on his sides, and his mane and tail were both a soft silver. I'd seen students from Lyra's school swoon after speaking with him, so I had to assume that tall and leggy was attractive to ponies. "Same as usual, Miss Joyce. Are you looking for anything in particular today?" When Alpha spoke about books there was an excited and barely restrained energy to him. His wings would twitch a little, and his smile would always widen. "Well, I think I'll hold off on the medical textbooks today. I was actually curious about the economy. Princess Celestia spoke a little about the system of basic income, and I was curious where all these bits come from." As I spoke, I watched his excitement play out further. It was nice to see a stallion so excited by something I said, but Alpha's interest was strictly textual. "I know exactly what you'll want. The unification of Equestria and the binding of the three tribes into one society necessitated a lot of changes, one of which was the unification of lands themselves. The proud pegasi believed they owned all the land under Cloudsdale, but some of that land belonged to the unicorns, and yet more belonged to the earth ponies." As he spoke, Alpha Betical led the way into the shelves of the library. He began reaching out with his wings and lifted down a tome. "The way Princess Celestia persuaded them all to agree about the splitting of ownership was to not have any. All their lands would become owned by her, and thus the Tithe to Crown was initiated." The book he passed me was actually called Tithe to Crown, and it was written by a pony named Princess Platinum. "They just gave her their land? I know she's persuasive, but how did that go over?" "Terribly. But it got Princess Platinum, Chancellor Puddinghead, and Commander Hurricane on the same side for once. They argued about every little facet, working together to counter every idea Princess Celestia put forward," Alpha said. "They argued against it so much and with such enthusiasm that they apparently came to realize that in each other was the qualities needed to make Equestria work. It was easy to see that earth ponies were the undisputed masters of growing things—nopony does that better, as a whole. Unicorns are creation personified—their magic builds cities, powers defenses, and allows ponies to flourish. Pegasi are the masters of the sky—weather is only the beginning of what they—we—do." "But those aren't the limits of each race, surely?" I asked. "Of course not. It doesn't take a unicorn to appreciate books on magic, nor does it take an earth pony to plow a field, but it is a leaning that most ponies of their races drift toward. If you went to Manehatten, found an earth pony making high fashion, I'm sure you would find at least one houseplant in their abode—and it would be flourishing. "While they argued against Princess Celestia's plans, the pegasi saw that they would be better off letting the earth ponies have the farmland, and the earth ponies realized how much better farming would be with weather they could predict." "And unicorns?" I asked. "The little charms we use as passes, the city of Canterlot itself, the equipment the pegasi use in Cloudsdale to make the weather… None of that would be possible without unicorns. We are three races, but Princess Celestia used herself as the anvil for the three tribes to forge themselves together. When all the arguing was done, Princess Platinum, Commander Hurricane, and Chancellor Puddinghead asked Princess Celestia to start working on the papers to make her plan official." Alpha Betical lifted down another book, though this one looked different to the others. When he passed it toward me, I realized why. Equestrian Title Holding by Princess Celestia. "Is this the actual laws regarding that?" I asked. "This is a copy. The original is—" My jaw dropped open in shock. "Y-You don't mean to say you have the original documents from over a thousand years ago?" Alpha looked like I'd just asked him if he was going to eat all the cake himself. He smiled so much that his eyes started to squint a little. "Yup." "Alexandria eat your heart out," I said, my voice barely a murmur. "I'll make a start with these." There was only one thing that would make Alpha Betical look happier than telling him you'd read some books he chose, and that was telling him you enjoyed them. So, given that I anticipated telling the cute stallion that soon, I carried the books reverently to a reading table. Tithe to Crown was like most of the other pony history books I'd read—amazing. If the history books on Earth had been written by the people who actually lived it, and were invested in it, they would be like this (and I might have passed high school history). Princess Platinum explained each aspect of the tithe system Princess Celestia had designed. It was obvious Platinum liked the system because everything was enthusiastic. There are four levels of tithe depending on the purpose of the land: housing, production, community services, and commercial. Community services was the simplest, there was no tithe on education buildings, hospitals, libraries, or other such buildings approved by the crown—ever. Housing tithe was the next simplest. When a pony or family moves into a house for the first time, the house is evaluated and they pay that tithe for as long as they live there. Princess Platinum extolled the virtue of this as being that ponies were encouraged to improve their homes to make them more comfortable. What Princess Platinum went on further about was how this encouraged families to spread out and colonize the less-populated parts of Equestria, since settling empty land meant there was no tithe. Commercial tithes were a little more fluid, and took into account products flowing in and out. The system was utterly fascinating, and I got the feeling that Princess Platinum found it so too. The last section on tithing took up over half the book, however. Production tithes applied to growing, making, building, and other industrial or agricultural endeavors. At first, I was worried it might be so archaic as to be similar to serfdom, but the reality was vastly more interesting than slavery. There were estimates of production that made sure that while ponies could make a living producing things, though from my limited appreciation for the value of bits I had to take Princess Platinum's word for that, but there was also an offset system. Put simply, if a quota of goods was sold at or below market value, some of the tithe would be reduced. I skimmed a little, mostly the hard numbers and tables of values that denoted tithe offsets—I might be curious about the system, but I wasn't planning to open a business or start a farm. Closing the book, I felt a greater respect for what Princess Celestia had built. Equestrian Title Holding was a different matter entirely. It was pages of documents signed by Princess Celestia and landholders of the pre-Equestrian societies exchanging their lands to the crown. The best part was the notes jotted down here and there, either by Princess Celestia, the landholder, or by one of the other three leaders. I promise this land will be taken care of, and all effort will be given toward ensuring the nice monsters in the river and looked after. Was typical of a lot of such notes by Princess Celestia, and there were hundreds of them. Everypony was attached to the land they owned, and in giving it up to the new princess they were dedicating themselves to following her, and showing trust in her. I'd met Princess Celestia twice now, and I don't think I'd have behaved any differently. There were other notes, particularly regarding old monuments, structures, or things of more magical nature on various titles. The ruined barn in the south-west-most paddock is the home of a friendly windigo. Please do not damage it. Our farmstead has stood over two-hundred years, it would be a waste to demolish it. There is a forest glade west of here, please place some food there every month. The titles finally ran out and I found what seemed to be a proclamation. Ponies of Equestria. I, Princess Celestia, do swear to hold your lands even as I give you your future. Discord was just the beginning. We will stand between you and any darkness that threatens. It was just the opening lines, but it sent a chill down my spine all the way to my dock and then back up again. Here was someone—pony—that could heft the sun and moon around with her magic, promising her protection. But, it gave me a question I wanted to ask her: would she have withheld that if they didn't agree to the land trade? I had a feeling that while it was a brazen question to ask, it was one Princess Celestia would expect. Taking out a notepad from my saddlebags, I made a page for questions, and added it. If Princess Celestia didn't want awkward questions, she shouldn't have made me so curious about Equestrian history. Closing Princess Celestia's book with one careful wing-claw, I stretched my wings and rolled my shoulders without actually opening the limbs. Thinking on the laws I'd read, I thought about what it would take to open a little medical clinic. Nothing fancy, just some rooms to see patients and a little house to live in. It would be a little complicated since there was two sets of codes to be applied: the clinic would have no tithe while the house would have whatever was deemed appropriate. Unless, of course, I built the whole thing myself. I barely managed to hold back a screech of laughter at the thought of me building a house. I sighed and let the daydream play out in my head, with everyone in town helping to build the little clinic and house. This was the dream I'd promised myself I'd always had—healing people, helping them feel well, assisting others as their life slows down. So far I'd spent nearly thirty years in school learning how to do that (as well as general adulting), and what had it gotten me? More learning. But I felt a need inside to learn so that I was ready. My eyes widened and I stared across the horizon—the books, the building, even Canterlot itself was gone from my sight. I was training for something important. The moment passed when I heard hoofsteps approach. Shaking my head and blinking rapidly to clear the vision-of-destiny-that-I-totally-didn't-believe-was-a-thing, I turned to see Alpha Betical walk up to the table. "I think I'm done with these." "Did you find everything you needed?" he asked. I nodded. "Pretty much. There's probably a lot of things in here that are out of date in regards to the numbers, but I don't need that stuff. This is so very different to how things were done where I came from." Came from not come from. A tiny distinction regarding where felt like home. There was only one thing missing that would make Equestria my full home: Robin. "You sure don't look like somepony who's just found out some of the secrets of Equestria's success." Alpha Betical sat down beside me. "What's the—" Everything hit me at once. My little baby was a universe away, I was facing more years of schooling, and every breath I took reminded me this wasn't the body I was born with. Alpha's chest rushed toward me (or I fell against him), and tears started flowing. A foreleg reached around my neck and held me, and Alpha Betacal let me sob. Images of Robin rushed through my head and I couldn't think around them. As a baby in the hospital where I'd had her, at home, as a little toddler, her first day of school, and more until finally she was saying goodbye to me. Nothing in the world mattered so much at that moment than my little girl—my little filly. "Robin…" I pulled back from my weeping as hard as I could. I was in public, sobbing against a nice young stallion I barely knew, but the pain inside had become too much to bear. I needed someone who was more familiar—Lyra was out, I'd probably just get her down too. So I redoubled my efforts and pulled back from Alpha Betical. Lifting one hoof up, I wiped at my eyes to dry them. I spotted a wet patch on Alpha's chest. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—" "Don't apologize. I don't know what you're going through, Miss Joyce. Is there somepony you'd like to contact?" he asked. I shook my head. "N-No. I need to go home and talk to my daughter." The sharp pain, a symptom of the distance between Robin and I, threatened to send me against Alpha Betical again. "Thank you for being a shoulder to cry on—a little too literally—but I should go." Turning, I struggled to keep myself together. I barely made it out the front door of the library when I realized Alpha Betical was trotting up to my side. "D-Did I forget something?" "No, ma'am. I just want to make sure you make it home safely." Alpha didn't sound either chipper or excited about the walk, just determined. I almost came back with an admonishment that I wasn't a young girl needing to be walked home, but I realized I was. Another quip might have been how he just wanted to see more of me, but he made no advances—for which I was appreciative. It cost me a lot of pride to simply say, "Thank you." "Did you want to walk, or fly?" he asked. "Walking's fine. I don't feel happy enough to fly right at this minute." And I didn't. Flying amounted to the most fun way to spend my time, and I didn't feel fun at the moment. Ruffling my wing, I stretched and folded back one and then the other. Though the sky called my name, I had no urge to listen. Alpha kept by my side all the way to the dormitory. "Thank you, Alpha." "No problems, Joyce." Alpha Betical turned to trot off. "Wait. Alpha?" I waited for him to turn back around. My brain froze. I wanted to ask him how he felt about me. So far, to my jolted human-stuck-in-a-pony-body senses, he seemed like the only stallion not flirting with me, and I wanted to know why. But I chickened out. "Thanks again." Alpha Betical gave me a wide smile that reached his eyes and a nod. I turned around before I made an actual fool of myself. Lyra wouldn't be home for another hour, so that left just one person for me to talk to. Taking the stairs two at a time, I found our room and slipped inside. The sight of Tufts laying on Lyra's bed reading a book was, quite possibly, the last thing I thought to find. The source of the book was obvious: it was one of Lyra's textbooks. "Enjoying some light reading?" "It behooves a bat to learn something of where he's staying. What's wrong, my peach?" Tufts scrambled to his paws and jumped toward me. I turned a little to give him a better landing, and felt his soft paws touch down. He turned around and walked up my back and wrapped his wings around my neck. A deep sigh left me, and I found myself longing for more of this. "I miss her, Tufts." His small snout nuzzled around in my mane, and I could fully appreciate how much he was trying to communicate his love and support. "I could try something," Tufts said. He acted less and less like just-a-bat every day we were here, but this statement hinted my thoughts were true. "Please?" I jumped at my perch and whipped my tail up to circle and grip tight. "We should have time enough. Could you sleep, my love?" Tufts settled in and hugged me with his wings while his own tail seemed to coil around the base of mine. The doctor in me had questions, problems, and assumptions, but the mother in me shoved it all aside and I wrapped my wings around my upper body, shrouding the world in darkness. An opportunistic sleeper, now, I felt my mind slow as sleep welled up around me. Barely a yawn later and I was asleep. I was hanging from a tree that clung desperately to the side of a mountain. Beside me on the branch was a handsome bat pony stallion. He cocked a smile at me, and I already realized who he was. I used legs and wings both to hug Tufts. "This will take some concentration, so no nibbling." There was a measure of laughter and satisfaction in Tufts' voice. He sounded more solid and real than any dream had a right to, but there was something odd, he wasn't speaking Equish, English, or Batstralian—I realized he was using dream-speak. I wasn't in a random, hopeful dream. I was in the Dreamtime, or so it seemed. I'd been here before, of course, but that had been when the Rainbow Serpent pulled our whole town into the Dreamtime to help us decide what to do about turning into ponies. "We need to fly closer, my precious mango. Come." With no more words Tufts spread his wings and let go of the tree. I had nothing to hold on to but him and the branch, and I felt for sure he was more exciting than a tree (even if the fruit in it smelled delicious). I spread my own wings and gave chase. Soaring in a dream was as real as my subconscious could make it, which meant it was nothing like real flying. I zoomed through the air, barely needing to flap my wings to gain on Tufts. This afforded me a great sigh of a powerful looking stallion. My heart beat faster for him, and for what he'd promised. It didn't seem to matter to Tufts that there shouldn't be a mango tree near Stonecrop, that it was the wrong climate and wrong soil for tropical fruit trees. He dove toward the tree, and I followed without hesitation. "What are we doing here? Can't we fly through?" I asked. "You can't and I might struggle, but I know a young mare who could not only move through that and bring a friend." Tufts reached one of his wings out absently and grabbed a mango from the tree. "You need the right bait to catch a bat." I giggled at his antics despite my aching heart. I didn't know exactly what Tufts did next, but there was a lot of screeching coming from the bubble around Stonecrop. Like a missile, a dark-colored bat pony came zooming right for us. I looked to Tufts to see a big grin on his face, and when I looked back to the approaching pony, I realized who it was. She had blue-tinted batty fur, and her red ruff and mane had a dirty blue-white undertone. "Dream!" I was so excited I flapped my wings at her. "Dream Thunder!" "Joyce? Tufts?!" Dream Thunder looked excited, but not surprised. "It's good to see you both!" I realized Dream's eyes kept turning toward the mango Tufts held as if it were a blinking light. "Tufts," I said, "give her the mango." "This is a beacon, and I don't think I could make another easily. Dream will need it to get back here with Robin." Tufts looked significantly at Dream Thunder. "Joyce needs to see our filly." "That's going to be tricky, but I think I can do it. I have some questions for you, too." With that said, Dream let go of the branch and shot back toward the barrier with only a few glances back at Tufts' mango. "She only seems about ten years older than she is. When did she grow up so fast?" I asked. "I wouldn't have given so much to a filly who wasn't so bold, Joyce." Tufts carefully eyed the mango he held in his wing, and for a moment I thought he was going to eat it. "You're going to have questions about this, aren't you?" "Tufts," I said, "you have done a lot for our family, and this helps buy you a reprieve. I'm not a stupid filly, I know something's up with you, and there's a lot I apparently don't know about you. I want to know one day, but for now I am happy to snuggle and let you do amazing things." He stretched a wing—the one not encumbered by a magic mango—and pulled me tight against his side. I needed it, I loved the feel of him against me. It might be a dream, but it felt real. We clung together—sharing no words—and waited for Dream to return. Two shapes broke out of the barrier in the distance, and my heart jumped in my chest again. Dream Thunder was recognizable, but the pony at her side was who I longed to see. My filly, Robin, zoomed through the air toward us. I had to abandon my grip on Tufts to catch her in an embrace. "Mum!" Robin Robertson said. "Mum! What's wrong?" I couldn't reply. My throat was choked with emotion, and there was so much there all trying to leap free that none could. "She missed you," Tufts said. I didn't see Dream eat the mango, I could barely even sense Tufts at my side. My filly was here and safe. "Robin. How have you been?" "Busy. I've been helping Screech get things under control, and—I should probably tell you who she is. Princess Screech is a bat pony in Canberra. Mum, she turned into a princess!" Robin said. "I mean, she was a prince already, or something, but now she has a horn, and she needs a lot of help working out how to keep everypony safe." Information seemed to pour from my filly's mouth. She babbled on about embargoes and quarantine in a manner I don't think I've ever heard from another nine year old. "Robin? What are you talking about?" I asked. "Everypony got really crazy. There was—were—some people who didn't take turning into ponies well. Princess Screech needs help getting Batstralia back together. I guess I just felt a need to be there and help her. She's really nice!" Robin Robertson said. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn my daughter had aged five years in the two weeks since I left. I cleared all the worry for her to the side for now—stacked it neatly beside my questions for Tufts—and brushed Robin's mane back from her face. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Robin seemed almost out of breath. She stared at me for a few seconds and then hugged even tighter. "Mum, I'm fine." "You must think I'm being silly," I said. "No, Mum. I wanted to see you too." Robin's words only got her a tighter hug from me. The dream world around us came slowly into focus again, and I saw that it looked a little odd. "What's happening?" I asked. "There's a lot of ponies here. A lot of them are going to sleep. The Dreamtime here is different to back home. It only exists around a dreamer," Tufts said. "Before we get distracted, Joyce, I need to ask you if you know a strange pony who arrived. He's a tall, white unicorn, and he said Princess Celestia sent him." Dream Thunder was pointing back toward the town with one wing and cradling half a giant mango with the other. I blushed at the memory of my meeting with Princess Celestia where she had discussed just this. "Yes. Princess Celestia said she'd sent someone." "Hold on." Robin squirmed in my grip and pulled herself free. "I need to talk to him, then. Princess Screech needs to talk to him." It hadn't hit me before, but now it actually sunk in that my filly was working with the government. She was only nine, though I had to admit she now spoke like an adult. Was it the topic? Was this her destiny? "I'll need help bringing him through the Dreamtime. He's not really attuned to Batstralia, either," Dream Thunder said. "I can help with that. Screech too if we need it. She's a lot stronger at this than I am…" Robin sounded a little upset by that, as if she weren't the most adult sub-teen I'd ever heard. A thrill of pride hit me, followed by a knowing sense of sadness—her plans to become a doctor, I was sure, had shifted. I cleared my throat. "I'll tell Princess Celestia that he's in good hands—hooves?" Something happened and I jerked from the dream like cold water had poured down my back. I was awake again. "Dang. Sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to wake you," Lyra Heartstrings said. I didn't intend my sigh to hurt her, but it had a sense of loss to it that I couldn't hold back. "It's alright. I was just talking to Robin and Dream." "How are they?" Lyra's complete lack of a surprised tone made me suspicious that she knew whatever it was Tufts wasn't telling me—she didn't question my statement at all. "Robin's helping get the country back into one piece—in Canberra. Dream is—I don't know what Dream's up to, but she sounded well." I peeled one wing back from my face while the other held Tufts—still asleep—at my side. "Hang on. Robin? Little filly about so-high?" As she spoke, Lyra used her magic to casually show roughly how tall Robin was. "That Robin?" I shrugged. "Seems so. Drat, I should have asked Dream to make sure she'll be back at school next year." "Mom. Robin's only nine," Lyra Heartstrings said. Reaching out, I hooked a wing claw over Lyra's shoulder and pulled her over for a kiss on the cheek. "I don't know the full details, but apparently she is helping a princess save Australia." Lyra chuckled. "You mean Batstralia?" I just groaned and pulled my wing back and wrapped it around my head again. "Wake me up in the morning."