//------------------------------// // Epilogue 2: Cadence // Story: The Seven Ages of Pony // by ObabScribbler //------------------------------// Epilogue 2: Nopony ever told me metal shoes are so itchy. I expected callouses, pinching, even the metal to be too cold but it’s the itching that bothers me most. I suppose I’ll get used to it eventually but right now I just want to tear the stupid things off and scratch. Except that scratching isn’t very princessly and … I am a princess. Me. A princess. I am a princess. And not just any princess either. I’m an alicorn princess. To say that’s a little hard to take on board is like saying Twilight kind of likes books. It’s been years since I got my horn and some mornings I still jerk back in surprise at the sight of it in the mirror. Or maybe that’s the bedhead. It can be really frightening; like the ghosts of hamsters fighting in a half-chewed burlap sack. Right now, though, I’m pristine and coiffed and waiting like a good little pony. Not one hair is out of place, which is kind of impressive, given how much of it i have. I need to remember to get a gift basket for my ladies-in-waiting. I don’t know what they did with that manespray and coat polish but i look pretty damn good today. I catch sight of myself in a suit of armour and can’t help letting the glance turn into a little stare. I barely recognise myself anymore. Where the heck did that rough and tumble pegasus filly go? The doors clatter. I snap to attention as much as the guards around me. For a moment I miss Shining Armour more than ever. He’s on a tour of duty at the border between Equestria and Griffinstone and I know he can’t come back just because I’m nervous of meeting … her. Even so, I want him here so bad that a half-remembered teleportation spell Twilight once showed me creeps into my mind. Aunt Celestia appears in the doorway. She prefers me to call her that even though we’re not blood related. She subscribes to that ‘family is not just blood’ thing and I can’t say I blame her. She looks regal, like always. I bet her shoes never itch. She’s way too poised to ever have a mini panic attack about … well, anything. As she comes towards me I realise I’m holding my breath. Hopefully she won’t notice the whoosh it makes when I let it go. “Cadence,” she says warmly. “Thank you for coming.” “It is an honour, your majesty,” I say woodenly, like I learned my lines. Which, well, I kind of did. I can tell she knows it, too. She gives me that smile she used to give me during our lessons when she knew I was lying about having done my homework. “So formal,” she chides. I wilt. “Sorry. I just … it’s all a bit much, y’know?” She nods. Boy, I bet she knows better than anyone else. “Sorry!” I would smack my own forehead if I wasn’t pretty sure the stupid metal shoe would knock me out. “Of course you know. You were there. I mean … I just … I never expected to ....” “Breathe, Cadence.” The barest hint of a laugh. I am instantly soothed. How does she do that? I need to learn how, stat. “Sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re nervous. That’s understandable. It’s not every day a figure from childhood legend comes to life and comes to live in your castle.” I nod. “To be honest, Auntie … calling it ‘my castle’ is still pretty surreal too.” My wings flutter anxiously. “I’m still not sure why the magic chose me.” “Equestria’s very fabric is made up of magic, Cadence. Sometimes it works in mysterious ways that not even I, with all my years of experience, can fathom.” “Yeah. I guess.” “Are you ready?” “No.” I take a breath. Let it out slowly. “But I’m not getting any readier so I guess now is as good a time as any.” “It’s going to be fine.” I make a noise that was meant to be assent but sounds more like someone strangling a weasel with a trumpet. Why do so many of my inner thoughts about myself involve violence to small fuzzy animals? That can’t be a good sign. Can it? Aunt Celestia laughs. “Come along. She’s waiting in my chambers.” “Meep.” “I have a feeling she’s going to like you.” “I’m glad you think that.” Because I am about to soil myself in a very unprincessly way. We go to her chambers. I recognise the study from our lessons but we don’t stop there. Instead, we go through to the little antechamber I used to think of as the reading nook. There has always been a tray of tea and cake on the little table in there for as long as I have been here. This time is no exception. What is different is the alicorn sitting by it. Instead of Celestia’s tall, regal figure I am confronted by a stunted little blue pony whose wings and horn as way, way smaller than mine. I’m so startled that I stop and gape. This can’t be Nightmare Moon. Standing up, she wouldn’t even reach my shoulder! The filly - she must be a filly - looks up from the book she has spread out across literally her entire lap and then some. Her eyes … she doesn’t have the eyes of a regular filly. They look old and wise and so, so sad that I want to take a step back. I probably would, except Aunt Celestia is behind me and I’d crash into her. The filly’s eyes are ancient, just like Celestia’s. “P-Princess Luna?” I stutter, because there’s no doubt who this is. “Ah. You must be Cadence.” Her voice is old too - not scratchy or anything, but full of something I can’t put a name to that makes me think she knows way more than she could ever put into words for someone like me to understand. She closes the book, puts it to one side using her hooves and hops off her seat. I was right. She has to look up at me as she comes closer. “We are pleased to make thy acquaintance.” “Um … me too. Uh, to you,” I hastily add. Great, Cadence, a wonderful first impression there. “I am - we are, uh, please to … thy … it’s …” I drop to one knee. “Nice to meet you?” I hear Luna chuckle. I’m staring too hard at the floor to look up at her and see her expression. “Thou art correct, Celestia. We … I do like her.” “Told you,” Celestia says smugly. “Ah, I see Juniper brought up the tray already. Shall I serve? We have a lot to talk about, after all, and talking over cold tea is beastly.” I’m welcomed into the nook and take my favourite comfy seat. Celestia floats a cup of steaming hot tea over to me but I watch Luna accept hers with her hooves. Her … bare hooves. She catches me looking and smiles, nodding her head to the little pile of glittering metal behind her seat. “Pretty but uncomfortable,” Celestia chimes in, holding her own teacup and a large slice of cake in her magic as she prises her own shoes off her feet and tosses them into the pile with a happy sigh. “Sometimes a princess must look the part but sometimes … a princess just has to be a pony.” Without her finery, she looks softer. She’s still tall and beautiful and impressive as all get out, but she is just Auntie Celestia, not Princess of the Sun. She is ... yeah. Just a pony. I smile as I take off my own shoes and throw them in the pile. Maybe I can handle this princess thing after all. All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages.