(Act 1, Chapter 2: An Age-Old Problem)
She wasn’t kidding. Her jaw dropped when she pushed the door open. Towering crystal archways held up the roof, each lined with immaculate polished, silver spirals. Equal in beauty to the ones outside, the stained-glass murals filled every nook and cranny with dazzling rainbow light. Everywhere Twilight looked, a new colour combination caught her eye. Deep blues faded into light greens; reds scattered into pinks; it all looked like a window into Rarity’s creative mind.
No way she didn’t lend a hoof in layout planning! Twilight thought. Even to an untrained eye such as hers, Rarity’s touch on the architecture was obvious.
Sculptures lined the halls, all chiseled from the same marble as the floor to match the proportions of their depicted subjects. Twilight trotted over to one statue, carved and painted to the Garnet Plateau’s resemblance. Were it not for the way its eyes reflected the light, Twilight would've sworn it as impossible to distinguish from the real-life Crystal Pony counterpart.
Casting a small illumination spell to get a better look, an ethereal book shimmered into existence right before her eyes.
“Gah!” Twilight nearly tripped over herself as she stumbled back.
“Like it?” Cadence asked, struggling not to grin at her. “This type of monument was inspired by you.”
“Guh?” Twilight replied in place of a coherent question. The one-two punch of pop up surprises and catching her breath weren't a recipe for complex inquiry.
“Well, it was sort of Flurry Heart’s idea,” Cadence added. Flurry blushed and hid behind her wings. “By the time she was two, Flurry was starting to get really chatty. I asked her to choose Aunty Twily's birthday present, and the first thing she said was, ‘Magic books!’”
“Needless to say,” added Shining, “that gave us a brilliant idea. Why not throw in something a little different for unicorns and changelings amongst us?”
Twilight turned back to the statue and lit up her horn again. “Huh, that is pretty cool,” she said. “What about creatures with passive magic? Don't they get anything extra?”
“Of course, they do!” Cadence affirmed. “Just look around you.”
Glancing up, Twilight took notice of the platforms floating around the upper levels. Casting a magnification spell, she saw groups of pegasi and hippogryphs flying between them, some of whom stopped to sit on fluffy cushions as they read the information slates.
Elsewhere, she spotted groups of changelings and fellow unicorns activating small crying orbs with their magic—though dragon fire seemed to work just as well—bringing up page after page on Equestrian history. Likewise, resourceful earth ponies and yak managed to locate various loose stones and panels which, when pressed, revealed not-so-secret passages to other rooms further inside the cathedral.
Closing her eyes, Twilight felt the crystal pony enchantments wash over her, humming a soft, warm glow that melted away the stress of everyday life. This was not just a cathedral; no, it was a monument to everything good and right about Equestria. Every stone, every page and every artwork resonated with the positive emotions of those who loved to learn, encouraging those with a diverse group of friends to come together for the fullest experience.
This was the Cathedral of Friendship.
“Flurry Heart,” Twilight said. She peaked out from behind a wing, only to see Twilight sitting in front of her, offering a hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Aunty Twily,” Flurry accepted it, a small tear of joy rolling down her cheek as her parents joined in.
A short time later, Stellar Shine arrived. While visits from royalty were hardly an uncommon occurrence in recent years, Stellar’s status as the newest Alicorn still generated a fair bit of buzz; gasps of surprise and an increase in chatter that were quickly superseded by those directed at Dragon Lord Ember.
Twilight let out a small sigh. Dragons were a part of her friendship school, but also an increasing minority amongst ponykind. Spike was quick to remind her about the solitary nature of dragons, as if she could forget, though it did little to shake the nagging feeling her efforts didn’t go quite far enough. At least nopony was screaming over Ember’s presence, which Twilight supposed was a step in the right direction. If only they didn’t give every dragon they saw such a wide berth, maybe their relations would have healed quicker.
While she wouldn’t say it out loud, Twilight had to admit that without the crystal pony magic, she would be one hundred percent freaking out right now. As it was, she just felt a mild unpleasantness stir in her gut, like a half-eaten sandwich that didn’t quite agree. Once the talks got underway, Twilight believed this, too, would go away.
“Ah, Stellar Shine, Ember, so glad you could make it!” she called, performing a small, ceremonial bow.
“A pleasure to see you again, Twilight,” Stellar reciprocated with a warm smile, his white coat and golden mane glistening in the light. “How is everything back in Ponyville? I would visit more often, but alas, there’s never a dull moment within the Order of Crystal Paladins. I guess a busy life comes part and parcel with Alicornhood, huh?”
Flurry Heart grimaced at that remark, a reaction both Twilight and Stellar noticed.
“Well, if you ever need help with scheduling,” Twilight chimed in, “then I'm your mare.”
“Are you sure you're the Princess of Friendship, not the Princess of Scheduling?” Ember chuckled, prodding Twilight with the bloodstone sceptre.
“In her defence,” Flurry retorted and stood between them, “scheduling work and play is an important part of anypony's life,” she looked up at Cadence. “That's what Princess Celestia said when you were a kid, right, mom?”
“Actually, it's the other way around,” Cadence mischievously smirked at her. “Aunty Twily said that on her first day at Celestia's gifted unicorn school.”
Twilight blushed but made no attempt to deny this fact. “I always thought I'd get my cutie mark for scheduling, or books. But then the Sonic Rainboom happened, and the rest is history.”
“Is that how most ponies get their cutie marks?” Ember asked, half-joking.
“It's a little more complicated than that,” chuckled Shining and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, a lot more complicated; though I'm sure Twilight will be happy to explain it to you.”
“It's a field of magicology that's been extensively studied—” Twilight began, only for her lecture to be cut off by the echoing ring of the cathedral's bells. She cleared her throat. “Which I'll happily talk about another time, since we're overdue for the summit meeting. Flurry, could you show us to the conference room?”
“Of course,” Flurry chirped, activating the scrying orb below the statue of Garnet Plateau. The floor rumbled as a long path of tiles levitated up to form a makeshift spiral staircase. Taking a bow, she gestured up the stairs. “Right this way, my lords.”
Their room was situated at the central spire’s top, modestly furnished with a round, wooden tea table—fashioned from the remains of the Golden Oaks library—as well as red velvet cushions in lieu of chairs. Around the room, more than a dozen bookcases spanned from wall to wall, all containing various documents that went into great detail on the subject of Equestrian history.
“So, what's it like?” Flurry asked Ember once they were all seated. “The dragon lands, I mean. I don't know much about dragons, other than they grow bigger the more treasure they have. And the whole breathing fire thing. No offence.”
“None taken,” Ember sighed. “That's always the first thought about dragons. Kinda bugs me that the stereotype hasn't changed since Spike won me my title, but I can deal.”
“How has the cultural exchange been so far?” Stellar asked. “Last I heard, the pony population of the Dragon Lands is actually quite decent.”
“You mean you don't know?” Ember cocked an eyebrow. “I thought Alicorns were supposed to be in the loop about this stuff. Y'know, with being a Prince and all?”
“I can see why you'd think that,” Stellar’s tone remained even, but not unkind. “It's true for most Equestrian Royalty, but I'm the exception. Indeed, I was crowned prince, but I chose a different path than national leadership. In times of peace, the Crystal Paladins serve as advisors. Ponies look to Celestia's light for guidance through times of personal strife, and we facilitate self-help in that regard.”
Twilight shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, feeling the tension in the air grow. “Not that there's anything wrong with more... direct guidance methods, as well,” she added gently.
“Oh, of course,” Stellar agreed with some haste. “I apologise, I didn't mean to cast judgement. I only meant that my role is less formal than traditional royalty, that's all.”
Twilight sighed in relief, and when she relaxed her posture, so too did her compatriots.
“I guess we're all guilty of negative assumptions, huh?” Ember admitted with a shrug. “Maybe that's why ponies keep their distance from us, even in the dragon lands. I don't know who's more scared of who!”
“Do dragons have festivals?” Flurry asked.
Ember blinked. “Well, of course,” she replied. “All creatures have festivals, but they tend to be dangerous – what with all those rivers of lava and all. Why do you ask?”
A familiar grin grew across Flurry’s lips, one that Twilight had seen before. She could practically see the bulb light up in her niece’s mind. “Well, why not ask ponies to take part? If they're tough enough to live near volcanoes, then dragon games will be a walk in the park.”
Ember opened her mouth, yet no words came out. For some reason, she’d never considered sharing her culture in that way, but now that Flurry mentioned it, it made perfect sense. “You know, I think I’ll try that,” she smiled back at Flurry. “Dragons love a good competition, especially if it’s against ponies. Good thinking there, squirt.”
“That’s our Flurry,” Cadence chuckled, ruffling her mane.
“Actually, that reminds me of something,” Twilight levitated an old book off the shelf, flicking through the pages until she found the right passage. “Aha! Look at this, every creature. These are the laws regarding the Equestria Games. It doesn’t say anywhere that dragons can’t participate.”
“Huh, I was wondering about that, actually,” Shining added. “I’ve seen griffons compete in the games for years now, even before our official alliance with Griffonstone.”
“Exactly!” replied Twilight. “You remember when Spike saved everyone from a spell gone wrong? Well, why not create a new game that’s all about melting ice? I just know dragons would be all over something like that!”
Ember scratched her chin. “When’s the next Equestria Games?”
“Not until late next year,” Cadence answered. “Though I’m sure that’d give every creature plenty training time.”
“Plus, we Paladins could offer to duel the victors of contact sports as an extra reward,” Stellar lit up his horn and levitated another book to the table. “Jousting has been a long-standing tradition here in the Crystal Empire. I’ve run a fair share of bouts in my time, so why not combine these traditions for the more combat-minded athletes?”
In a flash of magic, Twilight conjured a pen and a small notepad. “These are all excellent ideas! I think it’s settled, then. Ember, if you could offer to be the coach for extreme sports, I can help organise their integration into the next games. As soon as we have the setup, you’ll be the first to know!”
“That’s perfect!” exclaimed Ember, flexing her biceps. “Just don’t expect us dragons to go easy on you. We’re a pretty hardcore bunch, after all.”
“Hey, I’m no pushover myself, y’know,” Flurry pulled out several books with her magic and began juggling them above her horn. “At least as far as magic goes.”
“I think you’re still a little young to be competing in the Equestria games, Flurry Heart,” Cadence chuckled, taking the books from Flurry’s magic. “Plus, it’d be unfair for a princess to compete amongst regular ponies.”
Flurry leaned back in her chair and pouted. “Awww, you’re no fun.”