"We should go to the Harvest games. At least in the morning. They're fun, and there's the eating contest. Maybe we can join in this time." Luna grabbed one of the pieces of bread, still warm and slightly steaming, and smothered it in cheese.
Chryssi looked up from her bowl filled with oatmeal and dried fruit.
"They won't let us join,” Tia replied. “They never let us join. We tried every other year, and it was always the same." A loaf of stale bread floated up, broke into pieces, and landed in Tia's bowl of hot milk. "It's just for adults. Which is unfair, I know, because with Chrys–Surprise here we would win, but it's not like we can do anything about it." She spooned in a dollop of honey. "And honestly, I don't think it's fun to watch other ponies stuff themselves and not be able to join in. Had enough of that when I was little."
Luna gulped down bread. "It's not the same thing. The contest is fun, and I bet there will be ponies joining who can't handle it."
"I don't know. I'm not sure going to watch ponies getting ill is such a good idea." Tia nodded, clearly attempting to be subtle, in Chryssi's direction.
Despite the lack of competence in her attempt at subterfuge, Chryssi didn't seem to have caught on. Still, her sister had made a good point. Luna considered the issue while she bit down on her bread. It was Chryssi's first Spring Festival. Having her feel bad for ponies didn't sound like a good idea. "Alright, there's other stuff to see. Do you know where the Court of Laughter is?"
"I asked around. There's just that one mare we saw yesterday, but ponies did say she was good. She's in the Eastern Sun Square, and that's where the dyers have set up their market this year. That should be fun, and I think we can talk Donna Copper Horn into bringing us there. The copper-smiths and bronze traders are right there in an alley." Tia's spoon dipped into her bowl. "That will take care of the morning, at least. I think in the afternoon we can go watch the guilds take in apprentices."
Chryssi emptied her bowl and reached for the bread. "Why do we want to see that?"
"It's kind of fun," Luna said. More cheese was needed and soon added on her bread. Getting fresh cheese was such a rare luxury that indulging in it was, in Luna's opinion, a moral duty. "The new journey-ponies are proclaimed and the masters take in new apprentices, and there is a lot of music and ceremony and all those things. Master Sottile says it's so the guilds can show off how well-off they are, and if there’s a spat, they try to up-one each other. It's where the bards get most of their money. Fidelis told me so when he complained about all the coins the Masons wasted last year."
"Fidelis always complains. I think it's because singing hurts his ears." Tia picked up her bowl and drank the remaining milk. As she put it down she sported a new mustache even whiter than her coat. She glanced over the desolation of the decimated table and then fixated on the last nut-bread loaf.
"Uhm, where is Fidelis?" Chryssi looked around. "I can't really feel him. Or taste him. And Meadowsweet left very early and Millet too." She stuck her tongue out. "There's just Donna Copper Horn and Master Sottile." She grimaced. "And Master Sottile tastes really tired and… kind of weird."
"Yeah, he gets tired every time." Luna followed Tia's eyes, then squinted at the loaf.
"He doesn't like the whole Council stuff very much. When we get home he will break out his spirits and then he will rant about the stupidity of it all. You can learn some nifty words when you listen to him then. I had to look a lot of them up and do some research to figure them out, but it's really fun."
Chryssi scratched her head. "Why does he do it?"
"He has to. And he says that not doing it would be worse, and so he can at least complain." Luna tensed. Old instincts kicked in. "A bit like Fidelis does, I think. He goes to the mason's guild, stays there a lot, and then complains about stuff after."
Tia looked sideways.
Luna wouldn't fall for it. Her hoof struck for the loaf.
Tia reached it at the same time.
They looked each other in the eyes, metaphorical sparks flying between them.
"I don't get it." Chryssi sagged. "Another thing I don't get. There's so much of that. I… sometimes I feel stupid."
Tia pulled a bit on the loaf. Not enough to break a piece away, but the message was clear. "Don't feel stupid, I don't get it either. Mostly because Millet told me that the guilds had pretty wild celebrations and that he kind of envied them a lot and had to do a lot of stuff himself to get something like that."
The crust of the bread creaked. Chryssi glanced at Tia. "Stuff like what?"
"We don't know. Meadowsweet hit him with a rolled-up scroll before he could say, and then they left giggling." Luna considered her next move. Letting go was out of the question, she wouldn't cede to her sister. Pulling was a hazardous strategy, and could lead to breaking away an intolerably small piece of nut-bread. "They do that a lot. I think they do celebrate, though just at night. During the day there is a lot of talking and deciding stuff and getting into scuffles with other guilds, at least according to Fidelis. I think he doesn't like that part."
Chryssi tapped her chin. "Oh, I see. I don't get why he's in a guild, though."
"He has to. Can't be a mason without the guild. Or a dyer. Or a baker." In an instant, Tia's second hoof was on the loaf. She held now far more than half of it. "Pretty much everyone has to be in a guild if they’re not a farmer, a mage, an important representative of a House, or a merchant. And during the Spring Festival, all the Guilds want as many of their own as possible in the city, because they bicker a lot and want to show off."
Luna cleared her throat, reached out to grab more bread, and then, in the best imitation of Meadowsweet's voice she could do, said, "There I was, going through the Ledger with Canola of House Brassica, and suddenly the carpenters and the potters have a fight, and then they band together to go in a brawl with the farriers, hit upon the coopers and end up drunk in front of the Great Granary, all the while making a racket and not letting me work. Everypony knows that the proper time for a drunken fight is after sundown. It's a matter of common courtesy."
Chryssi looked at the bread and raised a hoof. "So what will we do in the afternoon?"
Luna tried to grab more of the loaf. Tia reacted and twisted. The bread broke down halfway through, and both fillies pulled their prize close to their chests.
Tia glared at her sister, Luna glared back, and both said, "She's not gonna choose it!"
The little square was filled up to the brim despite the stage being little more than a couple of planks over some barrels. And yet the mare up there, in a billowing cape and colorful hat, managed to make it seem like the grandest of scenes.
In a fluid movement, while balancing on the tip of a sword, the mare removed her headgear and a swarm of butterflies made of colorful flames flew over the audience. Excited screams and gasping filled the air, as the performer threw herself into somersault and landed with a bow.
Copper Horn had to admit, that mare knew her craft like few others. Her eyes shifted towards the audience and her charges therein. The fillies were transfixed by the show and gave little indication of wanting to move at all. Good.
All around the square, other mares and stallions kept an eye on the little ones. Copper Horn had to force herself back to the business at hand. Soon it would be her turn to make sure nothing happened, and it wouldn't do if by then she still hadn't done what she wanted to do.
The sunlight danced on the polished bronze artifacts laid out on the stall. Bracelets refitted for forelegs, amulets, medallions, chains, each and every piece in the eclectic collection of very high quality. At one end, secured by chains, were even some Minoian swords.
Her fingertips ran across the decorations of a bracelet. The craft was decent, the material promised it would last for eternity. The metallurgist clearly knew their art. She could buy two of them, for the fillies. No, three, she needed three bracelets. Not identical, but similar enough to show a connection.
And then she saw it.
She hadn't expected to see one here. She hadn't, if she was honest, expected to ever see one again.
Her hands reached to her horn, brushed over the etchings on it, and for a moment she felt a bit of shame. The borders were smooth from attrition, the patterns irregular, the depth inconsistent. She had tried to use Willowbark's knives and Fidelis' tools, but it wasn't the same. It was wrong.
The Minoian carver she was looking at was almost shining. It was a little masterwork, clean blade with a thick, triangular profile. Etchings marking the forger’s family history on the top of it, vines crawling along the handle to offer a better grip. It was laying in the middle of the knives and tools, out of place, almost resplendent with its own light.
Maybe she could…
Copper Horn closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. She grabbed another bracelet and then asked, "How much for these?"
Copper Horn waved at the fillies as Millet herded them towards the Oak Square. She was sure he would skirt around his promise to get them something reasonable to eat and allow them to lunch on something scandalously sweet and exotic.
It was alright, for once.
As the last tuft of pink tail disappeared around the corner Copper Horn turned around and bowed through the door of the tavern. As soon as she closed the door behind her, the pandemonium from outside was replaced with an equivalent pandemonium inside. A mix of torches, candles, and crystals illuminated the large room, the smell of wax and oil mixing with sweat and cheap beer. A group of guards sat in a corner singing, while laughter and curses rose from the other end where dice rolled and coins changed hoof.
Copper Horn straightened, then stooped again after feeling her horns scrape on the ceiling. When her eyes finally got used to the light, she saw a lonely Master Sottile sitting at a table against the wall, a cup and a ewer before him.
Taking care not to step on a pony or kick them, Copper Horn made her way to the figure and sat down across from Master Sottile. She reached out to the cup, took a sniff at it, and put it back. "Barley wine? That bad?"
Master Sottile let out a big sigh as his magic grabbed the ewer and poured more wine into the cup. Even in the low light Copper Horn could see the barleycorns floating on the surface of the brew. "It is like it always has been. The same ongoing feuds and fights, metaphorical stabs in the back, curses uttered under the breath, betrayal, endless negotiations. And just to add insult to injury, there’s pressure from some parties for me to take a wife. So yes, that bad."
As the innkeeper looked in their direction, Copper Horn pointed to the ewer, raised a finger, and then pointed at herself. The innkeeper nodded and Copper Horn turned once again to Master Sottile. "And your choice of dwelling before the afternoon session was dictated by your wish to console yourself or to try and avoid your peers for a while?"
"Mostly for avoiding my honored peers. And to find a bit of space for myself. How did you find me?"
Copper Horn shrugged. "I know you. Well, that and a bit of luck. It was either here, in the Broken Jug, or in the Fat Mare. I guessed right. I also think you may need a clear mind, so I'm not sure drinking here is a good idea. From what you told me, it seems there are still open issues."
"As if the others will be sober. Well, Rare Scroll and Master Pyrite may be. For some obscure reason, they seem to like the council sessions." Master Sottile sighed. "Anyway, no need to worry, this stuff has been watered down. Can't tell it from the smell, but you can taste it. I didn't want to risk ending today betrothed, not when I still have one or two paths to stop that."
"And if you can't avoid it? I'm all for keeping the details of the farm private, but you always have to consider the worst possible case."
The aura of Master Sottile's magic came to life around the ewer once again, then flickered out. He sighed. "Can't do that. Can't risk that. There are a couple of families I trust, but not enough at this point. I'm too old to storm a temple to get the fillies back as Master Cloud Chaser did for Sunlight and Starshine, and I don't want to move everything. We are in a far too delicate and critical phase."
"We already took risks. Far too many, in my opinion. And moving wouldn't be too hard on the fillies, I think. They never seemed to get along too well with other foals anyway."
Master Sottile looked into his mug. Uproarious laughter came from the table where dice rolled. The guards cheered for something, then broke into a song about how pegasi made it rain. It was quite dirty and only vaguely acquainted with the concept of melody.
"Donna Copper Horn, we can't do that." Master Sottile sighed. "Only we and another two circles have still a chance to match the prophecy. We can't have the cult harbor the Alicorns, and if we leave, if we abandon everything, I don't think we will have a chance to fulfill the predictions. No, I have to find a way to keep us out at the margins. If there is no other way out, I'll have to swallow my pride and get a couple of Houses to repay old, old favors."
A young mare with visible bags under her eyes approached their table, carrying a tray in her mouth with a ewer and a large cup on it. Copper Horn took it, nodded, and put a copper coin on her outreached hoof. She filled her cup while the mare left and said, "Considering all this, was adopting Surprise the wisest course of action?"
A dry chuckle escaped Master Sottile. "Most prudent? No, certainly not. But it was the right thing to do. We will see if that made it wise."
Copper Horn drank from her cup. It was bitter, and it had been watered down quite a lot. "Right. We will see."
Millet bit down on Radish's tail and pulled him back from the road, stopping yet another run for whatever had captured his attention at that moment. "No, Radish. Stay with me if you want to see the festival."
"But Pa–"
"Nope, not hearing it. Stay with me, and if you want to see something, tell me first. If you run away one more time I'm gonna leave you with Fidelis to look at rocks all day. Do you want to look at rocks all day?"
Radish looked down. "No…"
"Good, then remember what I told you, alright?" Millet hoped that it would stick this time. It hadn't the twelve previous times, but maybe with the added threat, it could give him a little more time between each inevitable scare, shock, or neck-breaking dash to get one of the foals out of some kind of mess.
"We should see the poetry challenge! We already saw the guards train last year." There was the kind of indignation in Luna's voice that courtiers and rabble-rousers everywhere would be jealous of.
Celestia on the other hoof practically radiated certainty. It was admirable, in Millet's professional opinion. "But this year they have a new training exercise with pegasi and earth ponies all training together. I bet it's spectacular, we can't miss it."
"You say that every year. No, this time we're going to see the poets."
Holding Radish in his foreleg, Millet turned around. He guessed he should be grateful. If they were fighting, it meant they weren't brewing up some unforeseen and novel kind of trouble.
"But they are boring! The good ones declaim all the same classics, and the bad ones make up new poems."
All he needed was some kind of distraction. Something to keep them all busy and engaged just until Donna Copper Horn came back. It was becoming painfully clear that he lacked the right kind of authority for the situation.
And then he saw his salvation.
Smiling from ear to ear, Millet said, "Radish, fillies, I know what we are going to do."
The black shape rose from the shadows. Long, thin legs unfolded on the side of the trembling ponies. One, two, three, four. It was like a cage made of darkness. Five, six. The last escape routes were cut off.
Blue Flower gasped. Gone was her reckless optimism. Nothing silly escaped her lips.
Rhubarb hugged her. There were no clever quips, nor the knowing look of when he had a clever plan that would pull him and his mistress out from a mess of her own creation.
All around the sides, black shapes shuffled in an indistinct mass, chittering, ebbing, and flowing. And then the body attached to the gigantic legs that had trapped the two ponies rose. It was at least twice as large as any of them, so black it seemed to devour the light, full of sharp edges and with all the wrong proportions. A grotesquely deformed belly hung from it, white fangs flashed in its maw, and evil green eyes stared down at its victims.
It clicked as it looked at Blue Flower and Rhubarb. Then it lowered its head and said, "Oh my, what do we have here? Two little morsels lost their way? How unfortunate for them. Tell me, little bun, what brought you into my home?"
Rhubarb was very smart. He had shown it again and again during their adventures, using witty words and feigning stupidity to get them out of trouble. He stood up, bowed, and said, "We just lost our way, oh great one, and then we found this cave. We were chased away from our village because of–"
"Don't lie to me!" the thing screamed. The black shapes at the sides became even more agitated. "Never lie to me. I can smell lies, and if you lie to me again I will eat you first. Or I will let my spawn eat you if I don't like your taste. They eat everything." It rose up to its full height. "Now tell me, why are you here?"
"We–" Blue Flower wiped away her tears. "We are here to find the heart of the Grand Mage trapped in an egg so that he will rediscover love and let the Princess go!"
The thing cackled. "Oh, that little thing? Then you are in the right place. How lucky you are, I have it. Or maybe you are not lucky at all. Tell me, do you know who I am?" She looked right at Rhubarb. "And remember, no lies."
The stallion looked left and right, then lowered his head. "We know who you are."
"So tell me, who am I?"
"You are the Queen of the Changelings."
The Queen laughed, but there was no joy, just malice.
All around her foals giggled, cried out, screamed, hollered, and hid behind each other as the on the stage Blue Flower and Rhubarb delayed their fate by promising to create a recipe that would make them taste better. Rhubarb never lied, skirting along the border of truth while he planned some way out. Blue Flower was silly, making a mess and exasperating the Queen while she looked for outrageous ingredients.
There were cheers when Rhubarb managed to grab the egg after putting the Queen and her court of false ponies to sleep. They gasped when Blue Flower tried to sacrifice herself to allow her faithful servant to escape with their prize.
It was a splendid story, told with great mastery. The sea of emotions whirling all around was a testimony to that.
And yet all that Chryssi could do was sit and stare horrified at the puppets and at the tale they portrayed.
Each time the Queen threatened the heroes, every time she unleashed a new horror, whenever one of the false ponies, a black shape with two blue gems for eyes crept along, it was like a stab, like a new crack opening in her chitin. It felt like an accusing stare at something deep inside her.
A chase through the corridors of the cave. A formless monster pressing down on the ponies, with just the shadow hinting at how it looked.
Chryssi's mouth felt dry. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't.
And when finally Rhubarb stood in front of three statues of Blue Flower and the Queen, with cruel glee, told him that if he didn't recognize which one was his petrified mistress then she would keep her heart forever in the vault under the mountain, something broke.
That thing, that Queen, she was just a malicious monster driven by hunger and avidity. Something playing with shapes and forms just for the fear it provoked, just because it could. And for some reason, Chryssi felt as if she was watching in a crooked mirror.
With a wail Chryssi shot up, almost blind for the tears running down her cheeks. She had to go away, anywhere but here.
The foals around her were all turning to look at her. They would all see her. They would recognize her. With a flap of her wings to gain some speed, she turned and dashed between ponies towards the edge of the square. And an instant later she disappeared in the alleys of the city.
Luna dodged around one of the adults, jumped over a confused colt laying on his side after having been run over, and skidded on the cobblestones trying to turn the corner into the alley.
Tia hadn't had all those problems. She had simply charged right through foals and adults without even getting slowed down.
Once again Luna cursed being so small. She was the earth-pony. She was supposed to be the avalanche going through everything and not getting stopped. Instead, she had to avoid a trio of chatting ponies sitting around a bucket.
She swore under her breath, looked back over her shoulder at the group, and crashed into something soft.
She rolled a few steps, entangled in whatever she had just hit. When she stopped turning, she saw Tia trying to stand up while looking frantically around.
Luna pulled her right foreleg out from below her sister. "Tia, where did Ch–Surprise go?"
"I don't know! I lost her." Despair painted on her face, her voice cracking, Tia stretched her neck and looked around. "What happened? Why did she run? The city is so big, she could get lost forever! Did… Was it us fighting?"
Finally standing up and shaking her legs one at a time, Luna looked back to the square. "I don't think so, we do that all the time. Maybe it was something another foal said." The puppeteers were calling to them, ready to continue with the show. Millet was pressing through the crowd and had almost reached Luna and Tia. She squinted at the confused mass of colts and fillies, and her eyes narrowed. "If it was another foal, there will be reckoning."
"Doesn't matter now. We have to find Surprise. She's all alone out there." Tia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then said. "We have to find Donna Copper Horn, we have to call everyone and look for Surprise."
There were ponies everywhere, along each street, down each alley, every single one of them living their life fully. The storm of emotions that had felt so exciting and intoxicating just a short time before now became oppressive and foul-tasting.
Chryssi had no idea where she was running to. She just wanted to leave the horrible truth behind and be alone.
A whiff of love from the right pushed her into an alley. A wall of friendship herded her along a square. A river of happiness blocked her path and forced her to jump up on a pile of boxes.
She didn't know where she was. She just had to go away.
There was stone and wood and ponies in every direction. Then she saw it, a little hole of solitude, a small refuge. A flap, a jump, and a dodged cart later, she was in a small nook formed by a wagon parked against the corner of a large, windowless building. The sounds of the city were weakened, and the miasma of emotions abated, became endurable.
Chryssi leaned against the wall taking deep breaths, the cold stones giving her an anchor. She closed her eyes, the images of the puppet-show playing again and again in her mind. She remembered every little detail, the crude features on the puppets over-layered with the story she had seen and, more importantly, felt through all the other foals surrounding her.
And yet that wouldn't have been an issue. She had learned how stories worked. No, the problem was–
"Told you it was the crazy filly from the creek. See? Hey, crazy filly, where are those other crazy fillies?"
The voice, she had heard it before. She opened her eyes and saw them at the end of the cart, peeking in one over the other. Two foals. The twins. They had been at the creek too. They had stuffed mud in her mane. "I–"
"What are you doing there?" The upper one looked in the other direction. "Are you trying to do another trap-thing?"
Chryssi wanted to be alone. She needed to be alone. "No, I… You–"
"Doing a trap thing would be stupid," the lower one said. "We found you, so it's not a trap anymore. And Clay's not here." She gasped. "Did you want to make a trap for us?"
A trap. Chryssi didn't want to prepare a trap. Chryssi was trapped. They had trapped her.
The upper one glared at Chryssi. "If you want to fight we can fight, but you would lose. Even with the other crazy fillies. Our brothers are right out here."
They wanted to fight her. Chryssi felt hostility. It was there. It was all around her. It came from every side. It poisoned the air, it itched under her skin. "No! No fight! Leave me be!"
The twins looked at each other. The lower one took a step forward, blocking the exit completely. "Uhm, are you alright?"
What had Tia said? Scare them, right. But Fidelis had said that you shouldn't make a threat that you wouldn't follow through with. But she was in a trap. The wheel of the cart pressed on Chryssi side’s. The wall pushed down on her. Something moved deep in her guts.
The filly took another step towards her. "Hey, are you feeling well? Chanterelle, I think she's sick. She has a weird color."
Scare them, chase them away, break free, bite, chew. And then once again, the picture of the Queen flashed in front of her. Chryssi screamed, "NO!", and pushed upwards.
The stairs were low and tight. Copper Horn had to squeeze herself through, her shoulders rubbing on the walls, her horns scratching the ceiling. She didn't like it. At all.
She reached the door of the cellar and pulled it open. The air inside was cold and smelled of mold and wood, of dust and old wine. The room itself was hidden in deep shadows, the sparse blades of light coming through the boarded-up openings at the end of chutes. The sound of the city was nothing more than a murmur here, making the cellar an island of peace.
Copper Horn's eyes took a little while to adapt, slowly transforming the monolithic sea of shadow first into a collection of shapes, and then adding details each passing heartbeat.
Dust tickled her nostrils. Copper Horn snorted and called out, "Surprise, it's me, Donna Copper Horn. Come out, little one."
There was rustling in a corner and something ran into hiding. Copper Horn's ears flicked. Just a rat. "I know you are here. Please, come out. I'm not angry at you–" Her voice dipped and she took on the tone known to educators everywhere "–but I will be very disappointed if you keep hiding. And the more you keep me waiting, the more disappointed I will become."
She considered if it was time to cross her arms and start tapping her hoof, just as a thin voice rose from one of the darker corners of the cellar. "I… it's better if you leave me here."
"I don't think so, Surprise. Now come, we have to return to the others."
"No. I can't do that." There was some shuffling and a whimper. "I can't come back. I'm dangerous. I don't want to hurt Tia and Lulu."
Whatever answer Copper Horn had expected, it wasn't that. "That's–Don't be silly, little one. I have no idea why you would think that, but you don't have to worry about it. Celestia and Luna would be very sad if you didn't come back."
There was a little stomp. "I can't! I'm dangerous. I can't come back!"
"That's not–"
"And you know it too." The words were almost hissed. "You know I'm dangerous. You think I'm dangerous. I can taste it! No, no, I'll stay away and… and… and I'll find a cave somewhere far away and then I'll stay there and you'll be safe."
Right, tasting emotions was a thing. Maybe even something more, if she could tell as much. Maybe not. Maybe emotions betrayed her in some way. Copper Horn closed her eyes. No time for flights of fancy. She had to gather her wits and bring some semblance of order to her mind if she wanted to fix this issue. And yet little Chrysalis was right. Copper Horn thought that she was indeed dangerous.
A low, barely audible sniffle came from the dark corner. And clarity came to Copper Horn.
"Surprise, can I come to you? You were right, I think you can be dangerous, but…" She opened her eyes and tried to spy into the shadows. "Look, I think we have to talk."
"But–but I'm dangerous."
Copper Horn sighed. "Yes, you are. And so am I too. Please, let me come. I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you. You know that."
The muffled sounds of life in the city were all that could be heard. Shouts and cries, the rolling of wheels, the scraping of hooves, it all meshed in an almost uniform ebb and flow of sound. Copper Horn couldn't avoid thinking about the distant breaking of waves on a shore. For a moment she missed the smell of brine, the wind whipping her face, the sand-grains scratching on her nose.
Chrysalis' voice brought her back to the present. "Alright. But I… I kinda messed up, and…"
"Whatever happened, we will fix it. Don't worry, little one." Copper Horn lowered her head and pressed herself through the door. The ceiling in the cellar was even lower, forcing her to walk bowed. She reached the corner from where she had heard the filly's voice. There was a broken barrel and a pile of empty, and probably moldy, jute sacks. From below it, two green eyes peered out.
"How… how did you find me?"
Copper Horn sat down on the side of the barrel and passed her hands over her horns, removing the dust and debris hanging on them. "Well, we were looking for you and a pretty distressed filly came up to us, Chanterelle, I think was her name, and told us that she saw you fly away and she was very worried. Well, I followed her directions and then I asked questions. Ponies answer me when I ask questions. It wasn't too difficult to follow you here." She snorted. "Although, to be honest, this was the third cellar I looked into."
"Oh." The form shifted under the sacks. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize, little one. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"
"I discovered what I am."
"Oh, did you?" Copper Horn leaned against the wall. "That's a surprise, Master Sottile never figured it out. But that sounds like a good thing, right?"
"No, it's not. I'm dangerous." Chrysalis sighed, then continued, her voice serious like never before, at least as far as Copper Horn could remember. "I'm a changeling."
Copper Horn closed her eyes. "Sounds a bit far fetched, little one. Changelings are just something out of stories."
"But it makes sense. I'm all black and weird and do this stuff that makes Lulu sick and then I eat everything and–and–and then there's the thing that I'm a fake pony and I don't know where I come from and I like caves and stuff and changelings live in there and–" Chrysalis sniffled. "–and I'm dangerous and I can't go back to Tia and Lulu. I don't want to hurt them."
Life was strange. It threw one in the most unexpected situations and tended to laugh at the plans mortals dared to make. It also had an ugly habit of unearthing the past every now and then to drag one through it with malicious glee.
And yet, once in a while, maybe it did it for some form of Good.
"Little one, let me tell you a secret. Well, not really a secret. Master Sottile and the others know everything, but Celestia and Luna don't. I am trusting you, please don't tell them." Copper Horn pinched the bridge of her muzzle. "Can I trust you?"
"But they are my friends!"
"Yes, but it's not your secret to share. When the time comes, I will tell them, same as I'm about to tell you about it. Do you understand?"
The jute shifted once more. "Yes."
Copper Horn nodded. "Good." She took a deep breath. "When Master Sottile found me, I was on the brink of death. Hunger was clawing my innards and my wounds were festering. I don't remember much of it, except that I was, for the first time in a long while, at peace."
"But… you were hungry!" Two emerald eyes looked out between the folds of fabric. "How could you be at peace when you were hungry?"
"I hope that you will never truly understand, little one. I was at peace for two reasons. I was free, and I was about to pay penance for what I had done in my life. You see, when I was young I was at the head of a herd of minotaurs, the Iron-Back Stampede, down on the south-western coast. We prowled it up and down, extorting tribute and raiding those unwilling or incapable of paying.
"The life itself, at least at the beginning, wasn't that bad, or at least I thought so. Raiding bands were a fact of life, something as normal as storms coming in from the sea. I even got married to a bull who was far too good and kind for me. We had two daughters, and if I had been just a bit more kind or wise I could have had a decent, if not exactly honest, life. But that was not to be.
"Me and my maul, we were famous. My name was whispered to the little ones to strike fear in their hearts, and merchants would pray to the spirits that they kept me away from them. I basked in it. I mistook terror for respect and grew crueler each year. I took what I wanted, and there was nothing that could stop me. That is, nothing until they sold me out."
Dry-heaving interrupted Copper Horn. She looked down to Chrysalis, who was shivering under the jute. "Are you alright, little one?"
"I–bleargh–I'm fine. It's just…"
Copper Horn nodded. "Right, you can taste emotions. Sometimes I forget it. Do you think you can make it to the end?"
After a brief moment of silence, Chrysalis answered, "Yes."
"Good. I will try to rein myself in." Copper Horn took a deep breath. "If you are cruel and petty you can't expect loyalty. Keep that always in mind. I'm not angry at my old band. I understand it. Still, what followed were hard years, and I went from fighting for my greed to fighting for my life as a slave. Nothing changed in the violence, just for whom I was doing it.
"Maybe I will tell you the whole story sometime when you're grown up and all. For the moment it's enough for you to know that after years I began to understand. I made friends and lost them. I thought about what I had done, and how I had destroyed what I had with my own hands. The loneliness gnawed at me. The things I had had and never appreciated – love, family – their absence became a great abyss in my heart. In the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I knew I couldn't regain what I had lost, but at least I could die free. I escaped and fled north, certain that I would be chased down and killed."
"And then?"
The jute had fallen back, leaving Chrysalis' black head uncovered. A strip of white fur ran down one side, becoming broader on the neck. Copper Horn reached into the broken barrel and pulled the filly out. Her disguise had failed in part, leaving her as a strange amalgamation of shiny black plates, white coat, and the occasional feather.
"Master Sottile was roaming the southern borders of the Concord at the time, looking for some old scrolls that would help him and some friends understand a certain prophecy. He found me, more dead than alive, and nursed me back to health." Copper Horn passed a hand through Chrysalis' green and blonde mane. "He listened to my whole story, to each horrible detail, to each of my crimes. And when I had finished he told me about Harmony, and how I could become a better being and save myself from my past."
Chrysalis put a hoof on Copper Horn's chest and looked up at her. "And then you got better?"
"Sadly, no." Copper Horn shook her head. "I followed him because I felt I owed him that much, but I didn't get better for many years. I didn't think there was a chance to atone for what I had done, least of all being forgiven for it."
"But–but you're good now!"
"Maybe, or maybe I'm simply trying. I don't know for sure." Copper Horn lifted Chrysalis to eye-height. "I can't go back to my husband and my daughters. I did no good to them, and if they knew on the coast that I was still alive they would be in great danger, even after all these years. I know that they are living a peaceful life, I've had Giosualdo check on them whenever he's down there. But despite everything, I found a family up here. I'm not sure I deserve it, but the others seem convinced I do. So you, little one, you who didn't do anything wrong, certainly have a right to it. You are dangerous, but you also care, which is so much more than what I can say about myself when I was young."
Chrysalis looked into her eyes. The little muzzle scrunched. "I could hurt somebody. I can bite stuff, and I'm all hard and pointy in places."
"Then you'll have to be careful, little one. And don't let my worries weigh down on you, they come from old habits." Copper Horn put the filly back down. "I don't know if there is such a thing as changelings and if you are one of them, but even if that is the case ... well, Master Sottile doesn't think there is such a thing as being inherently bad and he has far more wisdom than either of us."
For a while, there was just the distant murmuring of the city. Chrysalis sat there, chewing her lip, her eyes tracing the lines in the stones of the floor. When she finally looked up again, Copper Horn could see the change. "I will be careful. And if you worry about something that I did, tell me please." Chrysalis leaned forward and hugged Copper Horn, her little legs barely reaching the minotaur's sides. "And you are good now. I know it. I can taste it."
Copper Horn leaned forward and patted the filly on the head. "If you say so, little one." She smiled. "I promise I will tell you if you do something that makes me worry. Now change back into Surprise, will you? The others are running ragged by now, and it's time for us to go back to them and give them peace of mind."
It wasn't that the festival started early, it was more that it never really stopped. The ponies from the farm had partied through the night and were consuming what food remained in an early first breakfast. By then the bakers, fire-master, and dung-ponies of Everfree Haven had risen and had been at work preparing for the day.
The merchants had been the next trying to get the best places. The most desirable were those near a bakery or an inn, but far away from one of the common houses. Stalls were put up, wares prepared, and young foals were promised trinkets and sweets to run around and do little commissions.
Celestia knew it because, for one of the only two days in the year, she had gotten up before sunrise and looked out the window to admire the breathing and sweating of the city. It was fascinating and mesmerizing, and if one listened carefully then there was always the chance to learn fascinating new words from those workers encountering all the little annoyances of life.
It was just one such momentous occasion. According to the comments from the assembled seemingly entertained ponies at the entry of the alley, a dung-cart was being blocked by a snoring pony in the middle of the street. Behind the cart, there was apparently a merchant, and she was very miffed and feared that the stench would contaminate her wares. What was truly educational, though, was the exchange of opinions about the virtues of the merchant, the cart-driver, and mostly the sleeping blockade. Celestia didn't know all the words used, but going by the context it had something to do with a pony's ancestry, some farm animals, a compost heap and, and this part admittedly baffled her a bit, the collected works of Luscious Prose the Poet.
Celestia tried to keep track of all the implied relationships and all the novel usages of words she heard, planning to look up Luscious Prose, when a mighty yawn interrupted her train of thought. She waved her hoof and hissed, "Shhhh! It's getting to the good part."
The tirade petered out, and it seemed that somepony had finally kicked the obstruction awake. Celestia sighed. It had been getting really good, but she supposed she shouldn't be greedy. She turned to a blinking Chryssi and said, "Good morning!"
Chryssi sat down at her side, smacked her lips, then tilted her head. "What's so funny?"
More and more ponies were waking up, and the city whispered. Soon it would roar with laughter and delight. Celestia sat down and pointed at the window. "The city is fun. It's alive and full of ponies, and there's always new stuff. I like it, I like to watch it, to listen to it. I'd love to sit in the middle of the city and simply let it go wild around me."
"Uhm, it's nice, but I think I like the farm better. It…it has a clean taste." Chryssi rubbed her eyes. "Don't you like the farm?"
"No, no, I like the farm." Celestia shook her head, then looked out of the window again. Two pegasi passed, stopped for an instant to wave, then dashed off. "But the city is something else. It's… The city is always awake. there's always something happening. There are so many different ponies, and each one is doing stuff. It's a shame that Master Sottile's mansion burned down."
"It did?"
"Yeah, Meadowsweet told me. It was many years ago. It's how House Sottile almost disappeared. Master Sottile was somewhere else, traveling. He never wanted to rebuild it for some reason."
Chryssi shuffled a bit and sat down on Celestia's side. "Oh. I didn't know that. Do you think Master Sottile is sad about it."
"I guess. I would be." Chryssi was warm, and as Celestia felt a shiver run down her back, she leaned into her friend. "I never asked him. It seems a very sad story, and I don't want him to be sad. Maybe we can ask him sometimes when it's the right moment. Can you try to watch out for it?"
The dung-cart came out from the alley and turned westward along the main street. The merchant followed and went to one of the stalls opposite the granary. Crystal bottles filled with potions flew out of her saddlebags and landed on the shelves. Chryssi hummed, then said, "I can try. There are so many sad stories, I would like to do something about it. I just don't know what."
"What do you mean by that? What other sad stories?"
"Uh, nothing." Chryssi shrunk a bit on herself. "I mean, Master Sottile, and… and Fidelis, and others too. You can taste it sometimes."
Chryssi was looking away, shuffling her hooves, twitching her wings. Celestia sighed. "I guess that's what becoming an adult means. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it."
Behind them, Lulu snorted under the blankets.
Celestia observed the merchant for a while before her attention was caught by a baker opening his shop. A lanky colt stumbled out, his saddlebags bulging and steaming. He looked around, yawned, then trotted down the road.
"Tia, what if the council denies Master Sottile? What if I can't become a member of the House?"
It was a complicated question. Celestia looked at Chryssi and thought back. The little filly had been with them for only a few years, but they felt like a whole life. And by now Celestia knew Chryssi quite well. She was sure she could see the worry in how Chryssi sat, the tension of her muscles, the look in her eyes.
The question was complicated, the answer was simple. "I don't really care. For me and Lulu, you are our sister and nothing else really matters."
The stall was in the same place as the day before, but it was far less well-stocked. Most of the jewelry was gone, as were many of the tools. Even a couple of swords had been sold, and if Copper Horn had to guess, they were by now adorning the sides of some young guard recruits eager to stand out by wielding exotic weapons. They wouldn't do it for long, though. Officers had the habit of making the difference between a blade made to be wielded by hands and one to be wielded by mouth pretty clear through copious practical examples, and soon the swords would decorate some fireplace and become the center of wild and very inaccurate stories about travels in distant lands and the adventures one had had there.
Copper Horn smiled. That was one of the things that never changed, no matter the land or the people.
And there it was. Too exotic to be of use to anypony, and not flashy enough for some wild tale. She grabbed the carver and looked at it. Let it rest in the palm of her hand, the morning sun dancing on the decorations.
Apparently, she tasted like a good minotaur now.
Maybe it was even true.
She held up the carver and asked, "How much for this one?"
The Hall of Houses shone under the midday sun like it was burning in golden flames. The lights of the crystal windows played between the copper refinements and the shadows of the clouds. Gone was the sense of conflict on the inside. Out on the square, it was glorious, a monument to unity and harmony.
Chryssi shuffled her hooves and tried to stretch her neck to see over the mass of ponies standing in front of her. She tried to jump and flutter her wings until she finally could see over the heads, manes, and occasional outrageous hats. A stage had been built in front of the Hall and had been surrounded by dozens and dozens of poles. From each of the poles hung a flag or a standard lazily waving in the breeze. It was like the slow boiling of thunderclouds before a storm but done in all the colors of the rainbow.
For a moment Chryssi hovered there taking in everything, then she felt how she was beginning to lean side-wards. She tried to flap harder to compensate and ended almost upside down.
Two paws caught her before she could completely spiral out of control and held her up. "Careful, little bug. Won't do if you headbutt a pony." Fidelis turned her around and looked her in the eyes. "Gonna be very boring, but I think you wanna see all of it, right?"
Chryssi nodded.
"Then be comfortable." Fidelis smiled, then put Chryssi on his head. She was almost too big for it. Almost. "Gonna have to watch it. Guild wants it. But you can sit up there, alright?"
The whole square was filled with ponies. A sea of color almost rivaling the banners. Low clouds had been shoved in for pegasi, and there was a shouting match on one side with the earth ponies and unicorns complaining about something to the pegasi over them. Or maybe it was some form of banter. Chryssi couldn't really tell, with the emotions all around being a thick mist. There was a general feeling of expectation and boredom, but so mixed together that it was impossible to pick out the details.
"Are you excited? We were excited when we were waiting for our adoption all those years ago." Lulu clambered on Donna Copper Horn's head. "There will be a ton of boring talk before that, though. Don't be disappointed if it seems to take an eternity till the announcement."
Tia sat on Copper Horn’s shoulder and ducked under her horn. "And whatever happens, think about what we said this morning."
Chryssi smiled, her eyes wandered over the mass of ponies. She took a deep breath. She couldn't make out the details of the feelings of all those strangers, but the love and joy of the others, that was clear. Well, love, joy, and a lot of resignation from Fidelis. "I will remember, Tia."
The murmur became stronger as ponies began, one at a time, to walk on the stage and sit down at its back. They were all dressed up in some way or another. Some Chryssi recognized. They were the heads of the houses, all wearing the same finery she had seen the last time she had been in the same room with them. Others were new, and if possible were clad in an even greater variety of accessories, hats, aprons, capes, and tunics. One pegasus had a golden chain like the messenger she had occasionally seen at the farm. A massive unicorn carried a giant hammer on his back. An earth pony had three satchels hanging from each of her sides, brightly colored puffs of dust coming out of them at each step.
On and on they came. Each of them proud, walking straight, and each of them very old.
As a truly ancient and wiry earth-pony mare climbed up to the stage, a golden compass hanging from her neck, Fidelis said, "That’s the Master of my Guild. Good mason, better politician."
Chryssi leaned sidewise and whispered in Fidelis' ear, "What's she like?"
Fidelis remained silent for a moment. The mare on the stage seemed more to shift than walk to her place. It was like watching a statue that had somehow learned to move. Finally, Fidelis said, "She's where she has to be. In the right place. The rest’s not so important."
A complicated mix of admiration, irritation, bitterness and resignation followed the words, just to disperse as rapidly as it had formed. Fidelis chuckled. "Yes, yes, she is where she should be."
"Uh, Fidelis, I don't get it."
"Do not worry about stupid things adults do. Great waste of time. Now hush, listen, and get bored. Ponies like to hear themselves talk."
The last of the garish procession climbed the stage. The old, pink mare that had led the council stepped forward and silence fell over the square. As she spoke her voice rang clear and powerful, giving the impression she stood directly in front of the listener instead of being far away. "Another Winter is gone, and we survived. We celebrated another year in which we escaped the memory of the icy curse that haunted our ancestors. Three days we celebrated, three days we were merry, three days we joined in the concord that saved us and keeps us safe. Monstrous demons of frost and strife want to devour us, and yet we thrive."
In a single voice that shook the earth, the ponies shouted, "We thrive."
"In concord we lived, in concord we shall live!" A thick scroll floated to the mare who grabbed it and unrolled it. "House Sapphire has been chosen by fate to preside over the council of Houses. Now we shall declaim what has been decided for the year to come. The honorable Lodge of Silk Traders required–"
Time passed, the scroll was finished, another one was passed to the mare, and something extraordinary happened that Chryssi would never have thought possible. It was even more boring than the infamous monologue Willowbark had done when they were Judges.
It was almost awe-inspiring. And it also finally allowed Chryssi to give a meaning to a word she had, with a lot of effort and help, read in one of the scrolls Master Sottile had assigned her for her studies. It was a complicated word, which had a very long explanation that hadn't explained anything. Master Sottile hadn't been much more helpful, and neither Tia nor Lulu seemed to be able to give some kind of example that would bring some clarity to the issue. Chryssi had almost renounced trying to understand it, resigned to mark it as another weird thing she would never get. And yet, here, in the most unexpected of places, she finally, deeply comprehended it.
Transcendental meant something.
Chryssi looked around to the other foals she could see in the mass of ponies, and each and every one of them had the same, unfocused look. It was a shared experience, a common transcending of common boredom into something weird, timeless, eternal.
Another scroll finished, a new one passed to the mare, and Chryssi became aware that she had lost the sense of time.
It reminded her of something. Something that had happened a long time ago. No, that wasn't right. Time had nothing to do with the memory, it just was. It–
Fidelis tapping her snout broke her out of the contemplation of some kind of deep truth. "Little bug, listen well, this is for you."
Chryssi blinked and focused once again on the mare on the stage. She had almost reached the end of her current scroll.
"– House Ironstone recognizes House Stormcloud's right to wrangle thunderstorms above the lake Starshine. House Sottile will guarantee the accord and defend House Ironstone's interests in case of dispute brought in front of the Council." The mare looked over her back to Master Sottile and two other ponies. "This the Council approves."
"House Sottile and House Sapphire have declared they will, starting this Summer Solstice, enter negotiations for the engagement of Master Sottile, Head of House Sottile, and Sapphire Gleam, fourth in the line of House Sapphire. Any pony who wants to challenge the proceedings will be able to speak in front of the Council at each Solstice and at each Spring Festival. This the Council approves."
"Sapphire Gleam? Hah, Master Sottile, you old b–" Fidelis choked on the last word, coughed, then whispered. "Gonna be fun. Oh yes."
The mare took a deep breath. "House Sottile has called upon the ancient customs and asked to add a new member to its line. Honored Master Sottile, head of House Sottile, has declared his intention of taking in the pegasus Surprise, and defended her right to a place in the House in front of the Council. He declares that the pegasus Surprise shall be as if of his blood, third in line for the House, and that House Sottile shall defend this against any pony, creature, spirit, or monster who challenges it. This the customs allow."
Chryssi felt her heart stop and her breath getting caught in her throat. This was the moment. This meant everything. The past days raced through her mind, all that had happened. All the things Tia and Lulu and Donna Copper Horn and all the others had told her.
"This the Council approves."