Nocreature celebrated Hearth’s Warming in Klugetown. It didn’t surprise Tempest, she was the only pony in the area. The idea of being threatened by snow was likely incomprehensible to a near-equatorial desert city anyway. The most that they received was the occasional rainstorm, such as the one approaching with the dusk.
She trudged down through the hills outside the city as she returned from her mission. One of the Storm King’s lieutenants had been attacking airships as they crossed low over the hills, and Tempest had gone to remind him that there wasn’t a Storm King anymore for a reason.
Well, Grubber and her had gone. The little guy had stuck with her, and she’d brought him along. Couldn’t hurt to have a second pair of eyes if nothing else. She’d even let him catch a ride on her back, which definitely wasn’t in imitation of Twilight’s transportation of Spike.
“So Wenceslas has gone into woodcarving, Yeslick’s been told off just now. That’s everyone at the captain level checked off the list.” Grubber rolled up the scroll he was examining and pushed it under his tunic, then leaned forward. “Please don’t tell me you want to go after the lieutenants next.”
“Hmf. I’ll think about it. Most of those bozos needed orders from higher command to wash their own hands.”
Even without an army of hedgehog-creatures at her back, nocreature in the city was willing to mess with her. She trotted her way through the city to the hotel she’d been staying at. None of the other residents glanced her way and she gave them only cursory looks.
She entered the inn, only to find another pony waiting there, staring directly at her. Well, mostly. One of the gray pegasus’s eyes seemed unable to focus for long. Tempest regarded the mare’s blonde mane, odd eyes, and postal service vest. She remembered her. This was the mare that had fooled her in Canterlot, forcing her to restock her petrification grenades and give chase. What was this mare doing here?
Tempest carefully considered her exits from the area. The door she’d entered through, the door on the far side of the room, and a few small windows in the wall to her right. There wasn’t anything in her room valuable enough to be worth going back for. Worst come to worst, she could make an exit with her magic.
“Heya!” The gray mare stood up and trotted towards her. “I’ve got your package here.” She reached into her vest and pulled out a package with her mouth.
Tempest carefully walked forward to examine it. Who would send her a package? She’d broken ties with everypony. She didn’t need to wonder long, the package had the cutie mark of Twilight Sparkle stenciled onto each side.
“Sign here please.” Tempest mouthwrote her name onto the proffered clipboard, then picked up the package.
“What do you think it is, boss?” Grubber peered curiously at it. “Maybe a sweater?”
Tempest rolled her eyes as the postmare trotted out. “I doubt that. Let’s go back to our room and open it there.”
Once back in the room, the package was set down and opened. Inside was a layer of wrapping paper with Twilight’s cutie mark on the pattern again, wrapped around a conical object.
Tempest groaned as she tore through the wrapping paper. Inside that was an odd metal object, four rods arranged as though they were along the sides of an imaginary cone, and four metal rings of decreasing size connecting them. Enclosed in the center was a scroll.
As Tempest bent down to reach for the scroll with her mouth, a spark dripped from her horn. Rather than drop and set fire to something, as Grubber was preparing for even as it dropped, the spark diverted in mid air and was sucked into the uppermost rod.
“Huh, that’s new.” Grubber put away the fireproof blanket he’d grabbed and reached for the scroll. “I’ll read that for you boss. Ahem.”
Dear Tempest Shadow
After the incident in Canterlot, I’ve been discussing your condition with a prosthetics specialist I was introduced to by Celestia’s physician. Incidentally, he wanted me to let you know your actions have had one positive outcome: the Princess is now getting her exercise regularly.
To return to the main matter, Dr Pegleg has recently completed design of an enchanted aluminum prosthetic wing for pegasai. Although there aren’t very many pegasai missing a wing, it’s proved surprisingly effective. One test subject managed to recover a full 100% of his pre-injury wingpower, and most managed at least 90%.
A unicorn horn prosthetic should in theory be a similar process, but apparently there are no other living unicorns with injuries similar to yours. Since I doubt you wish to spend time in a laboratory, we hypothesized the best way to provide a measure of control for your magic. Since you never had a formal magical education, I’ll summarize for you.
First, aluminum was chosen once again due to its properties as a thaumic sink, and its acceptable level of susceptibility to enchantment. Secondly, it was enchanted to mimic the ‘mana steering’ effect of the upper horn, even if it’s not spiraled properly. Third, it should have an astonishingly easy method of operation. Just put it on and tape it in place, and it’ll work just as if you’d never lost your horn.
I rather doubt it’ll quite match theory, however. The first problem is that due to being unable to actually measure your thaumic output in any way, we had to guess for nearly every parameter. Thus, it’s tuned to exert as much dampening as we thought you could tolerate, to avoid any surges as you attempted a spell. The second, of course, is that this is a totally untested prototype. While none of us believe it will malfunction in a harmful way, the enchantments undoubtedly could be laid out more optimally.
In any case, the prototype is yours to do with as you like. I do hope that you send a letter back regarding your experiences if you use it, in order to help any future unicorns that may have a similar injury.
If you dislike it and choose to sell it, I recommend doing so before the end of winter. There’s a syndicate of entrepreneurs in Manehatten that are developing a much more effective refining technique for aluminum, and it’s likely to fall in value closer to a common structural material the way steel did fifty years ago.
Your friend,
Princess Twilight Sparkle
“She also included a roll of tape in the box. That pony thinks of everything.” Grubber lifted a roll of black tape in his left paw as he set the scroll down with his right.
Tempest blinked, eyes locked on the device. She’d been anticipating something like this ever since she met the Storm King. His promise had been a lie, but could Twilight succeed where he hadn’t even tried?
She gulped. “Let’s do this.” She grabbed the largest ring with her mouth, then flipped the device up into the air, scoring a perfect landing on her horn. Grubber slapped a piece of black tape on each side.
“Ok let’s see what we got.” Grubber gave her a thumbs up.
“It’s been so long. I’d better start small. How about the light spell?” Grubber cut the gas to the room’s lamp as Tempest concentrated. A steady pulse came from within her horn, sparks flowing into the metal cage around it. The act of casting magic felt oddly cold and took longer than she remembered it had, but soon a brilliant glow lit the room in harsh tones. “It’s working.” Tempest beamed. The smile on her face felt oddly difficult, but it didn’t matter.
“Let’s try lifting something now.” Grubber relit the lamp. “How about the box this came in?”
“Sure.” Once again the act of casting took too long and felt oddly cold, but the box hovered unsteadily into the air, a fizzy blue-white aura around it. After a few moments, she felt tired. Shaking her head, she let go of the box entirely. How had her magic drained so rapidly? It hit her at once: this was what Twilight was warning her about. The prototype was absorbing magic into itself, as the term “sink” implied. It was still a fascinating opportunity, and perhaps with practice could allow her to attain a small measure of what she once had. She’d still wish to replace it with a better one later, but who knew when that might happen.
Tempest closed her eyes to think. This was a heck of a gift, and probably quite expensive. It just wasn’t quite providing her value in proportion to its cost. She could sell it, but she’d have to do so soon if Twilight’s suspicious about the aluminum market were correct. It would be wrong to sell it without a clear reason she could explain to Twilight whenever they met next, though. She couldn’t blast her way out of that awkward conversation. “Majesty’s pastel mane,” she muttered, “give me something to help with this decision.”
“Huh, check this out.” Grubber motioned her towards one of the rooms small windows. “Verko is actually foreclosing on an orphanage. It’s like we landed in a comic opera.” He pointed excitedly, “Look, look, he’s twirling his moustache!”
Tempest shook her head as she looked out the window. There was a tiny pang of guilt at smiling over seeing crying faces, but she shook it off. “Well well, Grubber. It looks like it’s time to show you another pony tradition: regifting.”
“Ha, saving an orphanage? We’re the good guys now for sure! We should repaint your armor white!” Grubber jumped onto her back.
“Doesn’t go with my coat at all.” The duo dashed out.