//------------------------------//
// 9.  Bearers and Sinners 
// Story: The Face of Magic 
// by Carapace 
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In the long history of the Elements of Harmony and their chosen Bearers, never once had they come together under such circumstances.

Tales of old would speak of how six ponies who couldn’t have been more different were chosen by the Elements through their former Bearers, Celestia and Luna, and came together despite them to find some common ground. They would speak of the history of the Elements repeating this process through the ages, from parents to their heirs, the Bearers and their families would come together and grow in power, wealth, and bond. 

Up until one fell out of favor and had their Element stolen in the dead of night, out from under their very noses. Now, the thief’s heir stood before them, holding one Bearer’s hoof as she gazed into the eyes of those whose family’s her mother tricked for so long.

And the one she’d deprived of her destiny and heritage.

Spectacular. No potential for awkwardness there, right?

Though Twilight’s face revealed nothing save for that smile and a glimpse of her teeth, her heart hammered in her chest and blood boiled. On one hoof, her mother had spoken highly of their families. Even through their faults, no matter how their irrational pony-ness served to drive her mother spare, Sireadh Firinn spoke fondly of each Bearer she’d ever had the privilege to stand beside when she was called.

On the other, no changeling took kindly to being called a thing. Right about now, Twilight Sparkle could honestly say that, save perhaps for Fluttershy, this generation of Bearers didn’t measure up to any of her mother’s tales.

And that only served to stoke the flames of anger in her breast.

Still, Twilight Sparkle was the Princess of the Seekers, changeling royalty. Being outwardly hostile in response to something so juvenile would be quite out of the question.

But in voicing her opinions, this heiress of House Belle had shown a hint of insecurity. Twilight knew gossip well enough. Years spent slipping in and out of pony society at will had given her quite the crash course in its intricasies. 

Gossips rarely enjoyed being heard by the subject of their insidious words. It left too much of a chance for confrontation.

And cowards so hated any hint of such a chance.

This one, however, was putting on a show. She was a gossip who wanted to appeal to the rest of the crowd, a new player to the scene, if Twilight had to guess.

Oh, yes. There were many lessons to be taught. How delightful that fate gave her this chance.

Unless, of course, she could find some way to equal Sireadh Firinn’s tales of Cookie Crumble. That, Twilight felt, was a mercy, given she didn’t demand at least the character of Glittering Gown, may she rest in providence.

“Four hundred years,” she mused once more. “I shan’t pretend I didn’t dream of this prospect since I was but a nymph. My mother’s stories of her allies, your parents, even, were the lifeblood of my daydreams for years.”

Their expressions tightened, especially the mares from Houses Dash and Apple. Each stared  back at her a moment, their eyes flitting between one another and she as if they were at a loss. The only one who didn’t …

Well. The only one whose gaze didn’t leave hers was exactly the mare Twilight expected.

Teal eyes bored into her own, as if the mare from House Shimmer intended to use the very flames from the red and yellow sun emblazoned upon her goldenrod flanks to incinerate Twilight on the spot. Her bangs were a long, flowing twist of vibrant reds and yellows which spilled to her shoulders.

A flick of Twilight’s forked tongue was hardly necessary. She could feel the searing heat of the mare’s animosity for her—for her mother—upon her very carapace. 

Not nearly as fun as one might think. And this awkward silence just wouldn’t do. Not with so many eyes upon them.

Upon her. Waiting to see how she might respond.

Which meant it was the perfect opportunity to take the lead and demonstrate just what qualified her to bear Magic, the most mysterious of the Elements. 

Twilight assumed a small, stately smile—the very sort Celestia or Luna might wear while mingling at such a function—and turned to Fluttershy. “Your friends seem to have me at a bit of a disadvantage, no?” she joked. “Would you mind introducing us?”

She felt a little tremor run through the mare’s hoof. Fluttershy ducked her head, her mane shifting forward to cover her face like the curtains being drawn to a close at the end of a play.

Perhaps it was a little mean to ask such a shy mare to take the role, but since no other wished, Twilight had to try something.

And though her nerves did grip her chest, Fluttershy did try. She licked her lips and gave a little flick of her tail, then replied in a small voice, “Tw—Princess, these are Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Sunset Shimmer.” She gestured to each as she spoke their names in  turn, a friendly little gesture most met with a nod. Some stiff, like Applejack and Rainbow Dash, and others cordial—perhaps a bit too much in Pinkie’s case, and far too fake in Rarity’s.

Sunset Shimmer, on the other hoof, did not. Her glare only intensified.

Perhaps she sought to cook Twilight in her shell, like that shrimp dish the gryphons so loved.

Sunset Shimmer, the heir of House Shimmer. The fallen house. Well, sometimes Twilight truly did hate being right. 

Her slime glands threatened to fill her mouth with their payload, ready for the fight. The Princess of the Seekers swallowed, smiling still. Don’t show nerves, she reminded herself. This role had been mine and mother’s since Celestia asked and Luna foresaw their fall.

And who better to make such a decision than than they who first wielded the Elements?

Twilight decided to forgo the usual proprieties and bow rather than incline her head. “A pleasure,” she said gravely. “And an honor I confess I long awaited, though did not expect so early in my years.”

“Your honor, indeed,” Sunset Shimmer growled.

And we’re off. Twilight let out a breath, counting backward from ten as that boiling temper her race was so famed for tried to rise to the surface. Well, so much for flattery easing the tension.

Applejack shot her friend a stern look. “Apologies, Princess,” she said, keeping her voice even as she tried to shoulder the unicorn aside and redirect focus. “‘Fraid there’s a bit of an old grudge ‘bout your Element an’ it ain’t never set well with Sunset’s family.”

“I can speak for myself just fine.”

“That’s what I’m worried ‘bout.”

Sunset Shimmer drew in a sharp breath, her nostrils flaring. She turned to level her indignant gaze at Applejack, the none-too-subtle flicking of her tail and tensing of shoulders told of prior argument and temper on the subject. 

But the heiress to Equestria’s most renowned farming family simply towered over her, looking down upon the smaller unicorn and slowly raising a single brow as if to ask “do you really want to start this again here of all places?”

Twilight glanced between the pair, feeling quite a bit more out of place than her entrance, oddly enough. Like she was spectating a tennis match meant to be private.

And the discontented groan given voice in the back of Fluttershy’s throat only served to emphasize it. On the other hoof, she couldn’t very well just ignore them and occupy herself by getting lost in the beautiful little—well, beside her, anyway—pegasus’s eyes without seeming disinterested or rude, could she?

At last, the scorned mare surrendered and broke the staring contest with a sharp exhale and grumbling of obscenities.

Applejack nodded solemnly, then turned an uneasy smile upon Twilight. “Sorry. Like I said, bit o’ history there.” She raised her hoof and offered a little tip of her hat. How she pulled that off with the dress, Twilight couldn’t say. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet the new Bearer of Magic, I guess. This is kinda … er … well, it’s kinda—”

“Weird,” Rainbow Dash huffed, her eyes hard. “This is weird. And the fact that our parents, our grandparents, all of our families put their trust in a lie is weird.”

Twilight felt Fluttershy tense, she could see the alarm in the others’ eyes. Even Sunset’s.

Well, there it was. Frankly? Such candor was welcome at this point.

“Rainbow,” Rarity hissed. She glanced between the Princess of the Seekers and the pegasus, her smile faltering. “That is—you can’t—Princess I’m terribly sorry! This is—”

“Refreshing,” Twilight cut her off. Her amethyst eyes shone with amusement, she looked to Rainbow Dash and nodded her head in a fencer’s salute. “I’ve seen plenty of your kin who lack the fortitude to try to meet someone new and those who would whisper behind one’s back rather than voice their opinion face to face.” Here, she was pleased to note just a hint of a wince in those around who paused to eavesdrop on their conversation, and turned to offer a warm smile to Fluttershy. “That one so wracked with nerves would allow me the chance to show myself to her was nothing short of a delight, and Miss Dash—”

“Ranger,” the pegasus interrupted. This one definitely didn’t care for proprieties! “Everfree Ranger First Class.”

Oh! And there was quite a reason to be! 

Twilight met her with a wide-eyed stare, a measure of newfound respect filling her chest. “An Everfree Ranger?” she repeated. At Rainbow’s nod, she beamed. “My apologies. Shiny speaks highly of your fellow Rangers. I had no idea one stood before me.”

“Er, three, actually.” Applejack raised a hoof.

Then, the other mare with cotton candy pink coat and fluff fuchsia mane let out a happy squeal and began prancing in place. “And me!” Pinkie Pie all but sang. “Best hide-and-seek player in all Equestria!”

“And best lost foal finder,” her fellow earth pony drawled. “More importantly.”

“That too!” Her eyes wide as dinner plates and shining with glee matched only by Paprika, Pinkie Pie dashed over until she was but a hair from touching Twilight’s fanged snout and bounced thrice in place. “I could find a changeling in a haystack!”

An interesting notion. And quite the boast to boot. Twilight chittered, Pinkie must have gotten along quite well with Luna and her bat ponies with such claims. 

“Well!” Twilight replied. “I’ll be sure to tell my guards not to bother hiding themselves in haystacks while you’re around.” Turning her gaze upon Rainbow once more, she stood a little straighter, looking down upon the mares just slightly. “I would reply to that point you made on your families putting their trust in a lie for all these years. If you would be willing to hear it.”

The proud Everfree Ranger perked her ears, a hint of intrigue shone in her eyes. “You can’t justify four hundred years of lying,” Rainbow replied, wrinkling her snout. “I can’t imagine how my father feels, knowing he was fighting with a changeling queen at his side who could’ve taken him from us.”

Again, Rarity tried to interject. “Rainbow, honestly!” she hissed. “Let’s just … this is hardly the place for such conversation, I would think!”

“Bow Hothoof, yes.” The changeling ignored the Bearer of Generosity’s pleas. Rainbow Dash, she could respect. Her father always made her laugh in Sireadh’s stories. “My mother spoke quite highly of both he and your mother. She was there when they married.”

“Not exactly making me feel better,” the pegasus noted with a sniff. 

Twilight released Fluttershy’s wrist so she could hold up a hoof. “Forgive me, I get very wrapped up in things like that. A habit a lot of my hive has.” Seeing no sign of amusement in her audience, she gave a little cough. “Right. Anyway, you say it’s ‘weird’ for me to be a Bearer because your family was led to believe a lie. I’m curious, which part do you see as my mother lying?”

“The hay do you mean ‘which part’?”

“Well, I feel like there’s a bit of a gap in understanding. You imply the bond of camaraderie my mother shared with your families was a lie after centuries of her fighting to protect Equestria at their side.”

For the first time since their meeting, Rainbow Dash seemed a bit uneasy. Perhaps she realized the unstable ground upon which she stood? 

Her sky blue feathers twitched, a little tell Twilight recognized from years spent with Cadence. “Just … look, I don’t know, it’s just sketchy on both fronts.”

This time, Fluttershy stepped forward, a frown marring her lovely face. “Th-That’s not fair to say!” she protested. “Changeling or not, my mother told me about Tranquil Dusk! She even wrote to me about her again when the news got to Cloudsdale last night!”

“Is Tranquil Dusk even her real name?” Rainbow challenged.

Fluttershy started. Biting her lip, she turned a questioning look upon Twilight.

The Princess of the Seekers shook her head. “One of her favorite disguises,” she admitted. “My mother’s name is Sireadh Firinn, Queen of the Seekers. She chose Tranquil Dusk because it reminded her of Celestia and Luna, her oldest and dearest friends.”

To her surprise, they didn’t cry out denials or demand some explanation like some clichéd story a grumpy foal or nymph might write in the darkness in a fit of temper. Rather, it was one of surprise and that crippling, sinking sensation when one realized they’d just insulted someone to their face.

Chuckling to herself, she waved a hoof. “Don’t worry about it. Their friendship has been kept secret to most. But they’ve known one another for some time, given they each have walked this world since the last days of your tribes’ battles. It was she who lobbied my grandmother to allow Celestia and Luna into our Library when Star Swirl the Bearded gave his recommendation.” She paused, turning to look to a stunned Sunset Shimmer. “I presume by your expression you’ve spent enough time with them to know what I refer to, yes?”

“The Secret Library of They Who Seek,” Sunset confirmed, her voice soft and eyes wide. “The Seekers. You’re one of They Who Seek.”

Chitinous mulberry ears twitched. “Ah, you know the more classical name for my hive.” Twilight inclined her head. “Yes, indeed. I suppose you would call me the Princess of They Who Seek, then.”

The more scholarly ponies ringing them drew in deep breaths and quickly hissed explanations to those not in the know. Twilight had to bite the insides of her cheeks to hide a smile. Tried and true veterans of gossip, each of them, even the scholars. That They Who Seek had just been revealed or confirmed—she just couldn’t keep track of which, sometimes—as changelings had probably made or broken someone’s thesis.

Siín isn’t going to let me hear the end of that once she finds out.

Oh well.

“To answer, I ask whether my mother’s actions to help defend ponies over the course of four centuries might ease your concerns,” Twilight continued, facing Rainbow once more. “As you know, possessing an Element of Harmony can be as much a blessing as a curse, especially when one wishes to remain hidden.”

The poor mare looked lost. She would make as though to reply, then stop and think. Then repeat, sputtering now and again. “Look, I … ugh!” Rainbow Dash stomped her hoof. “Okay, fine! It pisses me off! It pisses me off like you wouldn’t believe that mares my dad and grandma would tell me about were nothing a lie for some changeling to hide behind! It’s—ugh!—how can you call that loyal or trustworthy to your friends?”

And there it was.

Twilight thought to step close and lay a hoof upon her shoulder, but decided that wasn’t her best play.

Not to mention, a lot of this no doubt stemmed from recent events.

She bowed her head again. “I understand why you see it that way, but I would hope you might be willing to consider how it might be for us as well. That, however, I won’t push on you tonight.” Casting a glance at their audience, she closed her eyes and added, “Not when so many linger in hope for some morsel of gossip.”

Twilight could sense the sheepish smiles, hear the awkward shuffling of hooves upon the floor, and taste that hint of shame. For but a moment, she was satisfied. A lesson had been taught.

Then, before she could so much as take a deep breath and bid them—and more specifically, Fluttershy—a cordial good evening and take her leave to return to her aunts’ sides, she decided to speak up and deny her exit.

“I couldn’t agree more, Princess,” Rarity chimed in a voice so melodious and saccharine it made Twilight’s ears ache. Something in its tone just made her carapace crawl, a hint of some insidious game.

Only, Twilight wasn’t one of the players.

She opened her eyes and stole a look at the crowd. Some seemed cowed, others affronted. Humming, she took note, confirming her suspicion. “I’m thrilled,” Twilight intoned, her expression flat and cold as winter frost. 

Rarity paid her little barb no mind. “I, for one, would be quite intrigued by this …” she trailed off, rolling a hoof through the air in a forward circle. “Discussion of past escapades. Given you have the lone living source for some, I imagine you might have greater detail of some of those stories.” As if she could sense the intrigue Twilight tasted from the crowd, she smiled and added, “Privately, of course. Who knows what might come of gossip and lacking context, no?”

Angling.

Normally, Twilight could appreciate the effort. She would applaud a pony for managing to angle like a nymph asking for seconds or the key to a level restricted section of the Library.

Tonight, she felt far less charitable. Her blood already sang sweet songs in her ears, demanding she return the terrible slights this mare had visited upon her—that of disdain for her kin and this.

Using her to posture.

With a hum, Twilight turned to Rainbow Dash again. “You mentioned your dissatisfaction with my mother’s use of false faces to hide herself. I wonder, does that extend to all who would? Or is it more for my kin and I?”

“Uh.” The pegasus took a step back, those rosy eyes flitting between Twilight and Rarity, confused. “I mean … yeah? I don’t really appreciate it when somepony comes at me with a smile and then pulls a fast one or something like that.”

Something like that indeed.

Her father would no doubt find Rainbow Dash an interesting mare. Rarity? He might let her off with a minor trick to teach her to mind her tongue.

Twilight gave a thin smile. “I see.” She turned her gaze upon Rarity once more and allowed her smile to show a glimpse of sharpened teeth, spurring a little shiver in more than a few ponies. “Tell me, Rainbow Dash of the Everfree Rangers,” she continued. “If you were faced with such a pony, one who comes to you wearing a winsome smile, looking like a sparkling gem with manners and voice as sweet as she looks, but when you’re thought to be out of earshot, expresses not mere disdain for your presence, but disgust—and loud enough that a crowd can hear …”

She allowed her thinly-veiled reference to hang in the air, watching, waiting for their reactions. They didn’t disappoint.

All around her, the same ponies who uttered such poisonous things, the very prim and proper mares and stallions of Canterlot’s upper crust who would let insidious whispers pass their lips as she passed them by and offered plastic smiles and nervous glances in her presence looked down or away, their ears splaying.

Though none so spectacularly as the mare quailing beneath her gaze.

“I-I …” Rarity sputtered, her cheeks turning a shade normally reserved for ripe red galas. The mare swallowed a lump. She looked lost, adrift in  “Princess, I don’t quite …”

“You speak of my kin and I as though we are beneath you when we are not in earshot, or so you think,” Twilight said cooly. “Yet, to my face, you’re all smiles and flattery and titles. But not just you, of course, I could hardly ignore the rest. All so worried that I might bring any who meet my eye under my thrall or sink my fangs into a pretty little mare’s neck and let them taste my venom.” She shook her head. “Honestly, yours? Well, you’ll have to excuse me, but I just find you, Rarity, to be silly by comparison.”

“Silly?” The mare goggled. “I-I’m sorry? Silly?”

“Why, yes. You most of all. Them?” The Princess of the Seekers let her eyes flicker to the crowd, her smile sharpening as they tugged their collars and failed to meet her gaze. “They so delight in the poison dribbling from their fangs. And theirs are far sharper than mine will ever grow. You, though? Your entire demeanor gives away how new you are to this show, you don’t even mean it. Not yet. So, yes. Silly.”

Satisfaction filling her chest, Twilight returned her attention to Rainbow and gestured to the stunned Bearer. “What do you think would be your best play in this situation? Stay and make a bigger scene arguing to make a point, or excuse yourself from their presence?”

Rainbow Dash looked as though she’d been hit in the face with something rotten. “Uh.” She looked around. “Um. You kinda made your point. A lot.”

“Ahhh.” Twilight inclined her head. “Thank you. I appreciate your input.” 

Her piece said, she turned away from them, her eyes reserved for the one they’d been robbed of during this ordeal.

The unease and hurt in those soulful blue eyes gave her pause. Fluttershy looked smaller, like she had been when they’d first bumped into one another, and her expression spoke not of fear or scorn or even temper.

Rather, it spoke of worry. 

Satisfaction died a swift death. 

Twilight offered a small smile, one that hid all but the tips of her fangs. “Thank you for dancing with me,” she said softly. “I hope we might have the chance to meet again. Without the crowd, perhaps.”

She didn’t stick around to hear any rejection or half-hearted affirmation. Twilight knew enough to realize when it was time to walk away.

With a bow of her head, the Princess of the Seekers turned sharply and exited the dance floor. The cold weight in her chest still drowning any remnant of satisfaction she might have garnered teaching her lesson.

That her blood no longer sang for balance was of little solace.