“I don’t think I did very well.”
Fiddlesticks rolled her eyes, not looking up from where she was feeding Tiddlywinks. “I’m sure you did fine, Feathercap. Probably better than any of us.”
“You don’t know that,” moaned the colt, still peering through his binoculars out the window of the second-story room they’d been given in River Bank’s manor. Fiddlesticks knew that he was looking for Lex, waiting for the stallion to return in advance of their evening lesson, even though it was still early afternoon. “Those essays were our first assignment. If we get a bad grade on them, it’ll be almost impossible to bring our average up later on.”
“I don’t think it’s going to work like that,” murmured Cleansweep from where she was dusting under one of the five beds lining the room. Although they’d only been there for a couple of days, she had her work cut out for her, since – even though their room was one of the larger guest suites – it was still housing five foals, their animals, and a baby. As such, it didn’t surprise Fiddlesticks in the least that her friend had a lot to do, even with how fast she typically cleaned.
In theory there were enough rooms in River’s manor that they all could have taken one if they’d wanted. But in actuality the manor was filling up fast. Although most of the rainclouds that Cloudsdale had delivered were now being distributed among the northern farms thanks to Sonata (and the team of pegasi that she’d taken with her), Vanhoover’s share of them were still being housed in a first-floor wing of the manor, leaving it off-limits to everypony else.
Similarly, Lex had declared that another portion of the building would serve as the camp’s new field hospital, ordering all of the medical ponies and their patients transferred there. Although the trickle of survivors from the city had slowed down over the last few days, virtually all of the ones who came in were in need of medical care, ensuring that the amount of space set aside for caring for them and housing the doctors and nurses remained considerable. Thankfully, from what Fiddlesticks had overheard, there hadn’t been any need to turn one of the rooms into a morgue. At least not yet.
Nor were those the only rooms that had been repurposed. Although construction had started on a large storehouse to contain the surplus of food that had been purchased, it was being stored at the manor in the meantime. So were the large amounts of bits that were being retrieved from banks in the city. And of course, a few of the guest rooms were still set aside as guest rooms; apparently, River had been expecting some VIPs before she left. Something about her son, though Fiddlesticks hadn’t quite figured out exactly what the story there was.
The end result had been that Cleansweep’s mom had arranged for a few extra beds – taken from a room that was now being used to contain clouds – to be moved into an upstairs room for them. Although she hadn’t said so, Fiddlesticks had the distinct impression that if there had been room, Feather Duster would have slept in there with them as well. Then again, she still seemed nervous around their spirit animals, so maybe that had something to do with it.
“He’ll probably just want to go over what we wrote,” added Straightlace, not looking up from where he was brushing Altaer’s feathers. “Remember, he said those essays were so that he could gauge how well we’ve learned what he’s been teaching us.”
And in the event that the Grand Vizier does find fault with your recitation of his wisdom, that does not mean that he’ll find fault with you, noted Ulespy, perched on Feathercap’s back.
Feathercap seemed somewhat reassured by that, but the words had the opposite effect on Fruit Crunch, who scowled miserably. “Unless we mess up so bad that he decides we’re not worth teaching.”
Fiddlesticks shared a concerned glance with the rest of her friends. Their erstwhile leader had initially been overjoyed when Lex announced that he’d take them on as his students. But his euphoria had quickly diminished once the actual teaching had begun.
Although he hadn’t said anything about it, Fiddlesticks knew that Fruit Crunch was disappointed that their lessons had been so…mundane. He hadn’t slept a wink after Lex had said that he’d begin teaching them, his eyes sparkling at the thought of learning magic at the hooves of his idol. But although they were less than a week into their lessons, the topic of magic had yet to come up. Instead, Lex had focused on issues of right and wrong, lecturing them on how those concepts were “found exclusively within the nature of the actions one takes, independent of both the intent preceding them and the consequences resulting from them.” Fiddlesticks was still trying to wrap her head around exactly what that meant, and she knew she wasn’t alone in that. But for Fruit Crunch, the fact that being Lex’s students involved actual work rather than being an exciting adventure had quite clearly been a huge letdown.
The fact that Lex had so thoroughly repudiated what Severance had taught them hadn’t helped either.
The core of the scythe’s teachings, during those nights when they’d snuck out to learn from it, had been straightforward: whoever had power made the rules, and everypony else either followed them or suffered the consequences. That, according to Severance, was simply the reality of the world. “Right” and “wrong” were irrelevant, being terms that were applied according to however someone felt about what the strong did to the weak. It had been the complete opposite of what Fiddlesticks’ parents and teachers had taught her about friendship and harmony. But after seeing how Block Party – or rather, the monster that had been possessing Block Party, according to what Lex had told them – had run the camp, she hadn’t been able to say that the scythe had been wrong. But Lex had disagreed.
From what Fiddlesticks had been able to understand, their teacher was of the belief that there was a sort of middle path between harmony and might making right. His take on things seemed to be that it was natural for the most capable ponies to rise to leadership positions, but that didn’t mean that they should do whatever they wanted, or that whatever they did was okay just because no one else could stop it. Rather, Lex had made it sound like having power was an incredibly heavy responsibility, and that it was of the utmost importance that powerful ponies behaved properly. It was just that “behaving properly” was apparently really complicated.
That might have been why Lex hadn’t been impressed when Fruit Crunch had showed him the scars that Severance had given him. Although the colt had quite clearly been proud of them, remarking on how they made him “almost match” the barbed wire around Lex’s foreleg, the older stallion had vehemently disapproved, stating that it was inexcusable to injure somepony – particularly a child – just for not having memorized some prayers correctly. That, in turn, had led to Lex telling them how Severance had tried to kill Princess Luna just because she’d set herself up as a competitor to the Night Mare, that it had ended up killing a pony who had worshiped the princess, and how Lex had subsequently banished it from Equestria for that.
It had been a lot to process, and the Knights had stayed up rather late discussing what they’d learned. Fortunately, their spirit animals had been a big help.
There is no contradiction, had been Lyden’s take on it. The Supreme Predator’s weapon taught you that the one who is strongest is the one who is right. The High Alpha defeated it and exiled it from his territory. So by the weapon’s own reasoning, the High Alpha is right.
The truths you have learned are two roots from the same tree, agreed Nemel. From the Supreme Predator’s weapon, you learned the importance of having strength. And now, from the Exalted Primogenitor, you’re learning what to do with it once you have it.
The only difference is the degree of instruction, Altaer had noted. The First Convoker wants you to know what to do with your power before he assists you in gaining more of it. Once he’s satisfied that you all share his values, he will help you to grow in power.
Venin and Ulespy had expressed similar thoughts on the subject, and by the time they’d gone to sleep the five foals had felt a little better about things. But only a little; Lex’s lessons were still very hard to understand…particularly for Fruit Crunch. Never the most scholastic of ponies, he’d looked ashen-faced when he’d turned in his essay. Clearly fighting members of the Royal Guard hadn’t been nearly as upsetting as the prospect that his hero would think he was an idiot.
Gently burping Tiddlywinks, Fiddlesticks tucked him into bed, the infant already yawning now that he’d eaten his fill. Bunching the blankets around him so that he wouldn’t be able to roll around in his sleep, Fiddlesticks scooped up Nemel as she crossed the room, going over to the despondant Fruit Crunch. “Lex won’t decide we’re not worth teaching.”
The quiet certitude in her voice made him frown. “Maybe not you, but I’m the stupid pony who thought that letting Severance cut his hoof was a good thing.”
“Aw, c’mon Crunchy,” smiled Cleansweep. “He blamed Severance for that, not you.”
And he didn’t insist that Cleansweep heal you of the scars you carry now, noted Venin, slithering up Cleansweep’s leg and coiling around her middle now that she had finished tidying up the place. So surely he respects the bravery they represent.
Fruit Crunch bit his lip for a moment before speaking again. “So…you guys don’t think the reason he’s not teaching us magic is because of me?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Another round of worried looks were exchanged, with Straightlace taking the initiative once they were finished. “Of course not. Why would you even think that?”
With a sigh, Fruit Crunch sat up from where he’d been lying in his bed, looking at all of them shamefacedly. “Because I’m the one who thought we should all start learning from Severance in the first place. I ignored you guys when you said that this,” he waved his scarred hoof at them, “might not be a good idea. And I’m the one who took that guard hostage when Lex was fighting the princesses.” He still winced at that, remembering how angry Lex had been then. “So I thought maybe, when Lex said Severance killed somepony, that maybe he didn’t trust me since we were doing what it taught us, and that’s why he’s going over all this morality stuff instead of teaching us how to use magic like him.”
“That’s ridiculous!” protested Fiddlesticks. “Of course Lex trusts you! He just said how proud he was of you – of all of us – at that big speech he gave the other day!”
You should take more pride in your accomplishments, tsked Altaer. You have come to the First Convoker’s aid more than once. Those successes are not diminished by any missteps you might have made elsewhere.
“And even if he does blame you, he’ll need to blame all the rest of us too,” added Straightlace. “We followed your lead of our own will, no matter what anyone says.”
Nemel bobbed her head up and down in a rough approximation of a nod. Never forget that all of you are as one. Your accomplishments and your setbacks are all shared, together.
“That’s right!” piped up Feathercap, finally moving away from the window. “Remember what we all said when we beat those guards? Joining the Night Mare’s Knights has been the most exciting thing ever!”
Have more confidence in yourself, counseled Lyden, padding over to sit by Fruit Crunch’s bedside regally. A good leader is unafraid to question himself, but does not wallow in doubt.
Giving a laugh that was almost a sniffle, Fruit Crunch looked around, smiling. “Thanks guys.”
Smiling, Cleansweep gave Fruit Crunch a sisterly punch on the shoulder. “There you go! Now c’mon, we’ve still got some time before tonight’s lesson! How about we have a quick study session?”
“That’s a good idea,” nodded Straightlace. “We can show Lex that we’re serious about learning what he’s trying to teach us.”
“Um, we might want to hurry up if that’s the case.” Feathercap had turned back to the window, peering through his binoculars again. “He’s on his way back here right now.”
Fruit Crunch’s eyebrows rose, and he joined the rest of his friends in rushing to the window. “Who’re those ponies with him?”
“Isn’t that that mare who helped him fight all those zombies?”
“They were ghouls, not zombies.”
“I thought she left a little while ago.”
“She’s back now, I guess.”
“Hey, Cleansweep. Who’s that with your mom?”
That last question came from Feathercap, and made the filly in question look at him curiously. “Huh? What are you talking about? My mom’s not even with them.”
“Not with them,” answered the colt, passing her his binoculars. “Look further back, near what’s left of the station. They’re coming this way.”
Frowning in confusion, she put the lenses up to her face, peering in the direction indicated. A second later her jaw dropped, and she uttered a single word at the top of her lungs, forgetting that Tiddlywinks was sleeping.
“DAD!”