//------------------------------// // Sand Tracker // Story: Son Of Princess Luna // by Wolfsong6913 //------------------------------// Luna awoke earlier than normal for once, the sun not-yet touching the horizon. She stretched luxuriously, flaring her wings to their full length, and tilted her head back until she imagined her horn would would impale her rump. With a brisk shake, she trotted to the door and ambled out in the hallway, intent on seeing what went on in her kingdom at this hour. She was surprised to see the stone corridor as still and empty as if it were midnight. Frowning, she moved along her usual route, her legs carrying her by memory to the throne room. As she drew near, she began to hear a commotion rising ahead, voices raised in shouts and cries.  Before long, she found the source, a herd gathered before the door of the throne room, bodies blocking her entry from all angles, and preventing her from spotting the cause of their anger. Snorting, she reared up to her full height and slammed her hooves firmly down on the stone, her horseshoes ringing shrilly on impact. “Your Princess desires entry!” she thundered. “Make way, peasantry!” “I’m a noblemare,” the mare in front of her muttered, but she stepped aside with everyone else as Luna strood through the parting crowd. The guards stationed to either side of the door bowed as she entered. Luna looked around the throne room. Celestia stood on her throne at the front of the room, and in the centre, their backs to Luna, stood a pair of guards surrounded a dusty brown stallion. His legs were hobbled, and he had been forced to bow before her sister’s throne. Celestia’s violet eyes raised to Luna’s, and she caught a flicker of surprise, before her smooth mask slid over her face. “Sister,” Celestia called. “I am surprised to see you join us.” “We awoke early, and desired to see the source of this kerfuffle for Ourselves,” Luna said sternly, spreading her wings to soar over the guards and their prisoner, landing neatly beside Celestia in front of her own throne. “What is this stallion’s crime, Sister, that he lies so weighted and chained before you?” Celestia nodded towards a herald who stood to her right, who cleared his throat and read from the scroll held in front of him by his magic. “Sand Tracker, a Gypsy Wanderer, stands accused of the murder of his wife, the Gypsy Emerald Ribbon, and their newborn foal, unnamed.” Unseen by Celestia, Luna started, and shook her head. Emerald Ribbon… The name sounded familiar. Where had she last heard it? “Last night, at approximately midnight,” the herald continued, “In the valley below Canterlot, according to witnesses, Emerald Ribbon gave birth to a white colt. Sand Tracker, supposedly angered by the colt’s coat, was heard shouting at his wife from their tent. Sometime later, he emerged with the colt, and departed for the nearby mountains. Their neighbours, frightened by the commotion, did not enter the tent until several hours later, upon which Emerald Ribbon’s body was discovered. The guards were notified, and Sand Tracker was arrested upon his return from the mountains. The colt is suspected to be abandoned, and likely, already dead.” Celestia frowned as she looked at the stallion. “Murder is a serious charge, Sand Tracker. What do you have to say for yourself?” The stallion raised his head, a scowl creasing his muzzle. “The mare betrayed me,” he snarled. “That colt was no son of mine, with a coat so pale. She deserved to die - Besides, she was crazy. Kept shouting about the moon, and how she’d given her blessing. Phah!” He spat on the floor. “That’s what I think of her!” Unbidden, Luna’s wings flared with shock. “Emerald Ribbon,” she whispered. “The Gypsy mare!” “Sister?” Celestia asked. “Do you have something to say?” “Me? Um, no, Sister. I simply... remembered something. I… I must go. Excuse me.” Luna backed slowly out the door, turning and galloping as soon as she freed herself from the crowd. Her heart thundered in her ears as she recalled that night, over a year ago, with that mare. She had awoken the following night and returned to the castle, furious to discover that no one had even realised she’d been gone, and thought no more of it. Now, however, she remembered - remembered the pleading mare, remembered the strange magic she’d performed on her, and remembered the promise she’d made the mare give. She had promised Luna her firstborn foal, the same colt who now lay, potentially dead, on a cold mountain top. The colt had been promised to Luna, and it was Luna’s responsibility to find him. Launching herself into the sky, Luna soared over the forest. With the moonlight whitewashing her feathers and gilding her coat with silver, she oriented herself towards the mountains looming in the distance. Drawing upon all her Pegasus strength and agility, she became a dark blur against the night as she streaked at top speed to the mountains. Within minutes, the land had risen up to meet her, turning to rocks as the trees shrank and disappeared. She picked a area that she knew was connected by trail to the valley below, but far enough from the growing city of Canterlot that a stallion might believe would not be visited for many days more. Landing on a rocky ledge, her horn began to shine with an aura as she conjured up all her strength and cast a spell designed to pick out the heat signatures of living creatures. The light increased in intensity as she expanded the range further and further, working with all her might to focus only on signatures large enough to feasibly be a pony foal, her eyes squeezed shut in an effort to focus. At last she located a fair-size specimen. The light vanished as her eyes flew open. “Got you,” she whispered. Spreading her wings once more, she ascended, slower now, fighting against the swooping air currents generated by the rocky cliffs. Up she went, higher and higher, scanning every nook and cranny she could find. The rocks were dark, edges only lightly silvered by the moon. Nothing stood out to Luna, until her eyes caught on a bright white lump, fairly glowing in the light of her moon. Swooping closer, she saw that it was, indeed, a pale newborn colt, legs curled limply against his chest, eyes closed. For a moment, she feared he was dead, until she saw the faint up-down motion of his chest. Bending over the newborn, she took him into her forelegs, cradling him close to her chest. He whimpered, quietly, and she flinched, eyes shooting open wide. “Shh, shh,” she soothed. “I don’t know what to do with foals!” she whispered frantically into his pale forelock. To her relief, the colt stopped whimpering, and opened his eyes, staring anxiously up into her face. Luna blinked down at the colt in shock. His eyes were a shining dark purple, standing out in brilliant contrast to his white coat and pale blue mane. He shifted restlessly, and his forelock moved to one side, revealing a tiny infant alicorn* protruding from his head. Before anyone complains, ‘alicorn’ in this context is used to mean the horn of a unicorn “You’re a unicorn,” Luna told him dumbly. He blinked at her, then yawned, revealing his tiny pink mouth. Something in Luna’s heart melted at the sight. She looked again at his luminescent orbs, that glowing coat, and the tiny alicorn, and thought back to what she could remember of that fateful night that had led to this. There had been a spell - some kind of ‘moon’s blessing’ on the mare, this colt’s mother - the foal had been promised to her. Turning with the colt still cradled in her forelegs, beginning the slow journey back to the castle, Luna wondered if she, perhaps, was the one to blame for the colt’s appearance, and, therefore, his father’s subsequent disownment and attempted murder of his son. That would make her - a mother, of some kind. And with his own parents dead or imprisoned - “It would seem,” she told the sleepy colt quietly, “That I am the one who enabled your conception, through a promise sworn on the moon. You are… The son of the moon. Son of Princess Luna.” She looked again at his brilliant white coat. “I will call you Silver, for your coat,” she decided. “And - Blood. For the night of your birth.” She nuzzled him as she flew. “My son Silverblood.”