//------------------------------// // 2 - Harmony Revealed // Story: The Future of Harmony // by Parker //------------------------------// Yona plopped down onto her haunches, her breath coming in ragged gulping starts. “Yak…” she panted, “NOT best at sprinting.” She, Silverstream, and Gallus had apparently arrived too late, despite running and flying at full speed towards the forest. The yak reclined onto her side, letting the relative coolness of the ground seep into her overheated hide. She had adjusted, more or less, to the warmer climate of Ponyville, but she felt a pang of homesickness for the icy grounds of her home. “Aww, you did great, Yona!” Silverstream said, a large smile plastered on her face. The hippogriff’s constant excitement, which had once grated on the yak’s more somber nature, actually served to encourage, now. Yona closed her eyes. “You said you couldn’t see the light from Ocellus’ room?” she heard Gallus ask. “No!” Sandbar replied. “There was nothing there at all.” “So it’s got to be some kind of magical test,” the griffon concluded. Smolder snorted. “I already yelled at the Tree about it, and she didn’t answer.” “I don’t think the Tree of Harmony has a gender,” Ocellus argued. Yona groaned. “Yona no care if cow Tree or bull Tree.” She sighed. “Yona just want to know what to do about scary light.” The yak let her head fall to the ground with a resounding thud, and she suddenly felt the floor beneath her shake. “Earthquake!” Sandbar shouted. Despite her tired, achy muscles, Yona leapt to her hooves and darted for a nearby doorway. Her friends crowded in beside and beneath her. The treehouse shivered and rattled as the six friends held each other close. After a few moments, the shaking stopped. Smolder grunted. “Those are way more common here than they should be. There’re no fault lines around here.” Ocellus stepped gingerly out of the crowd. “I didn’t know you had an interest in geology!” The dragon laughed. “Active fault areas tend to produce the best gems. It’s why dragons never showed any interest in conquering the pony heartlands.” She winked at Sandbar, as their pony representative. “Conquering decisions aside,” Gallus said as he pulled himself out from under the yak’s bulk, “I’m with Smolder. Does anyone else think it’s weird we’ve had so many earthquakes lately?” Yona nodded her head and saw others do the same. She walked back into the room on still-tired legs. The yak heard a loud cracking sound, and nearly darted back to the doorway before realizing that the sound had come from downstairs. “It’s happening again!” Silverstream shrieked. Yona was uncertain if it was fear or excitement in her voice. Perhaps her hippogriff friend was like the great yak shieldmaidens, who turned fear into fierce war cries. “What do we do?” Sandbar asked. Her pony friend was definitely scared. Yona laid a broad hoof across his narrow back to calm him. “Face it with friends.” She shifted her hoof forward, in front of his face, until the earth pony nodded and placed his hoof on hers. She fought back an un-yak-like blush at the contact. Gallus nodded at her from Sandbar’s other side. The griffon put his claw over Sandbar’s raised hoof. Ocellus added her hoof to the mix, and an orange claw joined the pile a moment later. A bellowing whoop filled the air as Silverstream leapt into the air, slapping both claws on top of the joined appendages, before she bounded off to land on the floor. “Which one do we go to?” she asked eagerly. The other friends exchanged wary looks. Yona tossed her head, her braids nearly knocking into Ocellus. “Yona go to Yona’s light!” Ocellus, having successfully dodged Yona’s aggressive hair, nodded. “And I want to go back to mine.” “We split up,” Smolder said. “You boys go with Yona. Silver, you come with me and Cell.” Yona grabbed Gallus and Sandbar and pulled them into a tight hug. “Come friends!” “I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do about the heat,” Gallus whined. “If you guys dealt with the same thing as me…” he shrugged. “Yona not guy,” the yak chimed in. Gallus rolled his eyes. “You’re also not really suited to high temperatures,” he added. That put a hitch in the yak’s step. “It… not matter. Yak face any danger to solve mystery and help friends!” Gallus flew above his earth-bound friends as they wandered down the winding staircase to the Treehouse’s cellar. As they neared the bottom landing, Yona flinched and raised a cloven hoof to shield her eyes. “Still so bright!” she whimpered. Well, whimpered for a yak, which was more akin to shouting for her friends. Sandbar looked around and shrugged up at Gallus. “Uh, okay,” Gallus said, landing next to Yona. “Which way is it?” The yak gestured toward a large, gnarled root that pushed into the rock. To Gallus, it looked absolutely normal, but Yona shivered and trembled in the face of some unseen force. He landed in front of the yak, but it seemed to make no difference. Sandbar lay a hoof on the yak’s side. Gallus frowned. “Same feeling as before?” the pony asked. Yona nodded. “Heat like sun!” Gallus remembered that feeling when he had been near the library. Like being lit on fire. “Sound like shattering mountains! Light like…” the yak paused. “It… suddenly less hot.” Sandbar looked ahead in confusion. Gallus looked around. Nothing had changed. Nothing was different now from a moment ago, or probably from when Yona had first seen the light down here, except… He slapped a wing against his head. “Of course!” he crowed. “Sandy! Go to your light!” “What?” the stallion protested. “We can’t just leave Yona!” “We’re not leaving her, we’re helping her!” the griffon insisted. “What’s different now?” he asked. When neither creature answered, he grunted in annoyance. “Ocellus is at her light, too! And if that made all…” he waved a claw in the vague direction of Yona’s disturbance, “that less dangerous…” Yona nodded in understanding. “All friends approach at once!” “Together,” Sandbar said, a small bit of awe creeping into this tone. “Even when apart.” Gallus grinned. “I’ll fly you up top, pony boy! We’ve got no time to lose!” Sandbar stood at the door to the grand hall. The crackling, tearing sounds were just as terrible as he remembered them, but the light was merely blinding instead of soul-crushing. And the heat was a fireplace instead of a roaring furnace. Still hot enough to melt his mane off, he figured. He stood well back of the room within. He hoped Gallus was right. His griffon friend had seemed very confident. But then, he usually did. Sandbar shifted on his hooves nervously. The temperature around him fell drastically. Sandbar shivered, feeling ridiculous. He was still sweating through his coat. But it was noticeably cooler. He tried looking into the great hall again. Through squinted eyes he could just barely make out the rainbow patterns in the hall tile. He stepped forward cautiously. When he didn’t burst into flames, he stepped forward again. Again. His heart was racing, the pulsing rhythm so strong that he could feel every beat in his throat. He hated feeling so afraid. He wished he were brave like Professor Dash. Instead, he found himself wishing he could hold Gallus’ claw as he stepped forward towards the cacophonous light. Or that he had a big, strong yak to hide behind. He took another step. Or even a sharp-clawed dragon or hippogriff to walk beside. Heck, even a little changeling support would be welcome. The heat in the room dropped, and Sandbar gasped. The noise faltered, and for a second he thought maybe the phenomenon had ended again, but the great hall was still unnaturally bright. And the sound… the sound that he thought was gone… The room was singing. The very Treehouse itself, from every wall and floor and ceiling, from a million different points in every direction, was singing. Quietly, intensely, wordlessly singing a thousand-part melody. Sandbar paused, transfixed by the music. Until he saw something glittering in the heart of the hall. On the polished floor, in the middle of the vast space, something glittered, pulsing a beautiful yellow light in time with the music. Sandbar galloped into the room, fearful of the return of the light and heat and noise. He looked down at a crystalline structure, no larger than his nose. He reached down to scoop it up in one hoof. The ethereal music halted instantly. ~unity~ Sandbar gasped and stilled his hoof at the whispered word. He glanced around nervously, half expecting the ceiling to collapse or the walls to explode. Thanking his luck that nothing happened, he scooped up his prize and bolted from the room. “Okay,” Smolder said, holding a crystalline flower up in a careless grip, watching the light refract through it, “Conviction I get, for Yona. And Enthusiasm,” she said, nodding at the hippogriff. “And definitely grace,” she said, grinning at Ocellus, who blushed a delightful shade of purple. “But wisdom?” “Hey, screw you!” Gallus said, scowling darkly. “I’m smart!” “Maybe Tree switched creatures on accident?” Yona suggested wryly. Sandbar laid a hoof on Gallus’ shoulder. “Wisdom is about more than book smarts,” he said kindly. His smile faded at the griffon’s withering look. “N-not that I don’t think you’re smart, too!” he stuttered. “And there’s ‘Unity,’” Smolder said. “What was yours, then, Ms. bossy drake?” Gallus asked sullenly. Smolder fought to keep her sudden, immense discomfort from showing. She mumbled her answer as she rubbed an arm across her muzzle. “What now?” Sandbar asked innocently. “Lrrshp” the dragon muttered. “Still not hearing you!” Silverstream said loudly. The dragon glared at all of them in turn. “Leadership,” she said through gritted, sharp teeth. To most of her friends’ immense credit, they showed no surprise, with Ocellus and Yona nodding thoughtfully. Gallus, though, burst out laughing. To the griffon’s credit, he managed to corral his guffaws after a moment, even if aftershocks of snickering laughter rumbled out occasionally. Smolder watched Sandbar’s head tilt slowly to the side. “You wanna say something too, turtle butt?” The green pony blushed fiercely. “N-no! But, uhh, what color was your artifact?” he asked. “W-when you heard the word?” Smolder frowned. She stared at the thing in her claw. She closed her eyes, remembering. It had had a peculiar glow. Like a delicious sapphire. “Blue,” she answered. “Ooh! I like this game! And my color!” Silverstream gushed. “Pink!” Gallus frowned. “Purple.” Yona held her flower aloft, as if it would regain its color. “Orange,” she said, when the artifact refused to comply. Smolder turned to her quietest friend. Ocellus looked on the verge of tears. “Cell?” she asked gently. She’d deny to any dragon that she could even do such a thing gently, but Ocellus deserved special treatment. The changeling shook her head sadly. “Nothing,” she said, her voice just barely a whisper. “No color at all.” Sandbar took a step towards her. “Are you sure?” he asked. A gruff voice spoke up from the back of their friends. “No color at all?” Gallus asked. Ocellus shook her head sadly. Smolder clenched her talons tightly into her palm, angry at the world and the Tree. “Maybe,” the griffon continued smoothly, “it wasn’t no color. Maybe it was all of them.” Ocellus gasped loudly, her eyes suddenly wide in understanding. “White?” Sandbar nodded, a sudden grin splitting his round pony features. “And mine was yellow. The colors of the Elements of Harmony!” He pranced from hoof to hoof. “Guys, we’re onto something very big here!” Gallus snorted. “The magical light and disembodied voice didn’t give that away already?” Sandbar stuck his tongue out at the griffon. Gallus smiled back at him and made a rude gesture with his wing. Smolder tossed the crystal flower from claw to claw. “That’s great and all, but what do we do about these?” she asked. “Yeah, Sandbar,” Silverstream chimed in. “What do we do now?” The earth pony frowned. “For the last time, I don’t know everything about pony magic!” Smolder heard Ocellus approaching her. “Maybe,” the changeling said, “since we found them together…” she held up her flower until it touched the one in Smolder’s claw. White and blue light shone from within the flowers as their clear, crystal petals stretched and shifted, moving to intertwine. Smolder set the conjoined flowers down on a nearby table, and her other friends approached, all at once, offering their own flowers. The room filled with a beautiful rainbow light as each stretched and twisted and melded, until the six distinct flowers had become one large structure with a hundred radiant petals, all pulsing with a rainbow light. As the friends watched, transfixed, the circular centers of each original flower shifted and twisted, revealing six strangely-shaped holes. “Ohhhhhhmygosh,” Sandbar said in awe. “Guys! Guys!!” the green pony said, prancing from side to side. “I know what this is!” “What was that you keep saying about not knowing everything about pony magic?” Smolder asked snidely. Sandbar rolled his eyes. “So it a locked chest,” the yak said, after Sandbar had explained his theory. “Uh huh,” Sandbar confirmed. “And we need keys?” Ocellus reasoned. “Yup!” the green pony shook his head affably. “And you know where to find the keys!” an excited Silverstream gushed, flapping her wings and taking to the air. She hovered over the lock, watching as Gallus traced one of the six keyholes with a claw. “Uhhh, no,” Sandbar admitted. The hippogriff deflated, her wings falling flat against her sides as she drifted to the ground. “Do you even know what it would unlock?” Gallus asked, walking slowly around the floral chest. “I’m still saying, I could just chew around the edges, see if that pops it open,” Smolder offered. “For the last time, Smolder, we’re not eating the Harmony chest!" Sandbar said in exasperation. Gallus tapped a spot just below one lock. “What’s this?” he asked. He leaned in closely. “What’s what?” Smolder said, pushing in beside him. Gallus moved his talon out of the way to reveal a small circle with some kind of misshapen blob inside. “Well, that’s weird. Whose was this?” Sandbar raised a hoof tentatively. Smolder waved him over and slid over to the part of the lockbox that had been in her claws a few minutes past. Inside a six-pointed star was… “A shell?” She shrugged. “That’s weird.” The other friends gathered around, peering closely. “Wait!” Ocellus cried, an ecstatic trill to her voice. “I know what that is!” “Helm of Yksler!” Yona breathed in awe. “That’s the Amulet of Aurora!” Silverstream screamed. Sandbar laughed. “Thank goodness you guys have more unique shapes. Otherwise I would have never guessed mine was supposed to be Clover the Clever’s Cloak.” “But why is the Tree showing us these artifacts?” Ocellus asked. Smolder opened her mouth to take a guess but slipped and had to grab hold of the lockbox to stay upright. The ground shifted beneath her feet. Yona went down hard, one horn scraping a hole in the floor. “Earthquake!” Gallus shouted. Smolder popped open her wings, ready to take flight above the treacherous ground, when something hit her hard in the back of the head. The world went dark. “The Grrrrreat and Newly-Employed Counselor Trixie bids you enter!” a voice announced from behind the door. Ocellus steeled herself. With Headmare Twilight and the other Professors in Canterlot preparing for Twilight’s Ascension and Headmare Starlight and the new Vice Headmare busy investigating the cause of the earthquakes, Trixie was the only pony with access to the School’s files. And Ocellus, as her friends had reminded her while tending to Smolder’s head injury, was the student most practiced in document research. The blue unicorn clopped her hooves together excitedly as Ocellus stepped into the room. “Eeee! A changeling student! What can Trixie help you with today?” “Well, my friends and I kind of need to track down some magical artifacts, and-” Trixie jumped up from behind the desk. “Say no more!” she announced, flourishing her cape with one hoof. “Trixie has had all number of wonderful artifacts moved recently from her caravan to castle storage! The Great and Magnanimous Trixie would be pleased to allow you to-” Ocellus sighed and put a hoof against her head. “Sorry. No. Sorry,” she apologized, “we need several particular artifacts.” Ocellus could sense Counselor Trixie was a little crestfallen, though she did her best to hide it. The changeling drone waved away the bitter aroma of disappointment that wafted through the office. “Ah. What kind of artifacts would those be, then?” Ocellus sat and raised both front hooves. A flash of blue magic swirled around them, and suddenly she had two sets of dragon claws. She flicked one talon up at a time as she revealed her search: “The Talisman of Mirage, the Crown of Grover, Knuckerbocker’s Shell, The Amulet of Aurora, The Helm of Yksler, and Clover the Clever’s Cloak.” Trixie grinned widely. “Trixie never knew there was an enchanted cloak!” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “Imagine the tricks a pony could do with an magic cloak.” Ocellus let her claws transform back into hooves. “Counselor?” Trixie shook herself. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat, bringing herself out of whatever pleasant daydream she had been inhabiting. “Vice Headmare Sunburst claims to have re-organized the entire filing system to be ‘maximally efficient.’ Whatever that means.” Ocellus eyed the various magical props, scrolls, and books that adored the various surfaces and cubby holes of the Counselor’s office. She had a sense the unicorn wasn’t a fan of organization. But she reminded herself that the Counselor was her best hope of tracking down the information on the artifacts. She forced a cheery smile. “Lead the way!” “Artifacts comma Magical. See also Arcana comma Major; Arcana comma Minor; History comma Major Conflicts; History comma Unicorns; …” Trixie looked dazed. “Huh. That’s all very thorough.” “Maybe,” Ocellus suggested gently, “we could look them up individually?” The new counselor shrugged but nodded her head. “Very well. There was an amulet, yes? Trixie does have a soft spot for amulets.” “The Amulet of Aurora,” Ocellus agreed. Counselor Trixie slid the drawer closed and moved to the other side of the large office. “A’s,” she explained. “Let’s see… Aha!” she lifted a small file folder skyward triumphantly. The unicorn flipped the folder open with her magic. “OH FOR…” she sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. Ocellus snagged the folder. Also known as Aurora’s Amulet. See also Arcana, Hippogriff; Conflicts, Cataclysmic. After that, in large block letters was the word INACTIVE with a very familiar date—the day Cozy Glow had tried to drain magic from the world, and Ocellus and her friends had stopped her. After that entry, nearly every other word was redacted. Ocellus flicked her elytra in irritation. She scanned down the page and flipped to the next. Her eyes focused on one line that had survived the redactor’s fury. Current location: Castle of Friendship vault room Mt. Aris, Hippogriff Territory. Outside Equestrian control. Transfer approved by Prin. T.S. Ocellus hummed quietly to herself as she retrieved the files relating to the other five artifacts. “Come on, Gruff! Gabby told me that you have it.” Gallus flapped lazily beside the old grump as he hobbled up the street. “Listen, boy. I’m telling you I don’t!” The grizzled buzzard made a sour face. “And even if I did, why in Grover’s gonads would I give it to you?” Gallus groaned. He hadn’t missed dealing with Grandpa Gruff while he’d been at school. “Because it might save the world, for starters?” “Hah!” the older griffon barked, unfazed by the prospect of heroic sacrifice. “All the more reason to keep it for myself, then!” Gallus ground the edges of his beak. “So you do have it?” “So what if I do? It’s of no interest to you!” Gallus shook his head. So many griffons had finally come to see the value of friendship. Or at least the value in the cessation of open hostilities between each other. He should have known that Gruff would have been one of the holdouts. Luckily, he had planned for just such an occasion. “Not even if I wanted to purchase it off you?” That put a halt to the older griffon’s unsteady stride. Gallus imagined he could see flecks of gold in the other griffon’s eyes. “It’s invaluable.” Gallus made a rude noise from his nares. “Everything has a price. You taught me that, Gruff.” “I suppose I did,” the gray griffon replied. “I know that you don’t have any bits, though, so buzz off!” Gallus touched the small pouch on his side. It rattled with the glorious sound of metal. He tried not to be too disappointed that he was going to have to spend all his newly gotten money. After all, that was the entire reason Yona had given him a claw-sized ruby from her savings. And why Sandbar had helped him exchange the gem for bits in the Ponyville market. But it was still hard to accept that he was going to have to part with as many bits as he’d ever held at one time. Gruff actually licked the end of his beak, his thin tongue darting out almost like a snake’s. Gallus frowned and held the purse tight to his side. “The helm first. I need to know you actually have it.” The inside of Grandpa Gruff’s cottage smelled exactly the way it always had: stale, sour, and musty. It was the smell of dissatisfaction. Gallus hated it. But he could bear it. If he could survive a test in Generosity class, he could do anything, he figured. Gruff lifted a small wooden box from a nearby shelf and pried open the lid. Inside, a golden, many-pointed crown glittered in the low light. Gallus nodded. “How do I know it’s real?” he asked. “You’ve probably got a dozen made up to look just like it. Bet you try and sell ‘em to suckers on the street all the time.” Gruff grunted. “Crud. That would’ve been a good idea.” Gallus rolled his eyes. “Knock it off. I’ve seen you do it before a dozen times. Convince me it’s real if you want these bits.” “You ingrate! Of course it’s the real one!” Gallus ignored the insult. “And I know that because…?” Gruff grumbled as he lifted the crown with one claw. “You can’t sense the deep, powerful magic resonating from its surface?” The blue griffon tilted his head, examining the crown. “Nope.” Grandpa Gruff laughed bitterly. “That’s because it’s been a dud for years, ever since that good-for-nothing King Gutto lost the Idol of Boreas. It’s just a pretty relic, boy, nothing more.” The joke was on Gruff—Ocellus had told them that Princess Twilight’s files had shown each of the artifacts had only gone inactive after helping to restore magic to the world. But then again, maybe the griffon item really had been broken long before that—rundown and neglected like the rest of Griffonstone. Grandpa Gruff tapped a gnarled talon on the large red gem in the largest arch. “Real ruby, that.” He shifted the crown towards Gallus’ beak. “Not something I’d try to fake, see?” It did look real. “Fine,” Gallus said, reaching back to touch the small felt purse at his waist. “25 bits.” Gruff smiled a rough, greedy smile and pulled the crown away. “I paid 50 for it.” Like Tartarus he had. Gallus kept his voice neutral. “55, then. Give you something for holding it for me for a while.” Gruff sputtered angrily. “Five bits? You expect me to just give this away for five bits?!” He pushed the arches of the crowns angrily at the younger griffon. “All this gold? Worth a lot more than that!” The tip of Gallus’ beak touched the golden crown. This is taking too much time. I’d take seventy just to make him leave. Gallus gasped and pulled away. “What did you say?” Gruff’s good eye twitched. “You deaf as well as stupid?” He spat on his own floor. “I said it’s worth a lot more because of all that gold.” Gallus eyed the crown warily. Had he heard Gruff’s thoughts? Was Gruff hearing his? Gallus imagined the old grump winning the Equestrian Lottery. When the old griffon’s exasperated expression didn’t change, Gallus breathed a sigh of relief. “Seventy,” he offered. Gruff threw an arm up. “Robbery!” he shouted. Maybe Gallus had been imagining things. “Banditry!” the older griff ranted, “Trying to take an old griffon’s things without proper recompense!” Gallus took and released a deep breath. “So that’s a no?” Gruff glared at him. And then lowered his arm, palm up. Gallus had to resist the urge to grin madly as he fished the large-denomination bits from his purse. Somehow the crown had worked for him. And even better, he’d still have a clawful of bits to line his purse. Maybe he’d take Sandbar and Yona out to dinner in thanks. He blinked slowly, realizing that maybe those Generosity lessons had worked better than he thought.