//------------------------------//
// The lesson 
// Story: House of the Rising Sunflower 
// by kudzuhaiku 
//------------------------------//

Dark clouds threatened an incontinent accident. What was once a sunny, bright morning full of promise threatened to become something else—something far less pleasant. Far to the south—the direction of the Everfree—something gloomy announced its coming with a calamitous rumble that was more sensation than sound. It was hot, dry, and still. The air, heavy, was far too moist. A summertime storm surged northward, and Sundance fretfully awaited its arrival. 

Once, in what felt like a lifetime ago, a storm had come and knocked over a tower. Since that time, all manner of nice and needful things had been constructed, important things vital for the barony's continued existence—the loss of which would surely be too much to bear. The coming storm, a feral beast, cast a fearful shadow of worry across Sundance's face as he waited for whatever disaster that blew in. As a pegasus, he was sensitive to yon ill winds and the prickle of foreboding upon his neck drove him to distraction. 

Agitated, animated, Sundance prancily paced about with his tail so high and so taut that one might think he'd been gingered. Once, a long time ago—in another life perhaps—storms were things that one waited out whilst one watched out the window. Sundance longed for a return to those days, those simpler times that had so little at stake. Here, if a terrible-tempered tempest blew through, all manner of dreadful consequences awaited. The worst outcome, the one he feared the most was damage to their crops. All of the swaying sunflowers were tender things. Some of the vines had begun to fruit. The corn was tall and there was promise of a bountiful harvest. 

But all of this could be taken away. 

"Sundance?" 

Upon hearing his name, he turned with alarming suddenness and replied, "Yes?" 

Carnation Nosegay, apprehensive and fearful, now stood atop the gatehouse with him. The pink mare's white mane had been blown into a frightful mess and she was attractively disheveled. Sundance thought of Earwig's suggestion that he and Carnation do unseemingly things with one another. Perhaps it was because he was so pent up and stressed out, but she was attractive and appealing in her current state of mess. Not that he would ever act on his feelings of course, because that felt mightily improper. 

"Corduroy asked me to ask you about getting your old sleeping box. The crate." 

"What about it?" he asked. 

"She wants it for that sick filly." 

Hearing this, Sundance thought about it for a moment. He wasn't using his old sleeping box—he had himself a much larger and far more comfortable one now. It might be good for Sparrowhawk to have a quiet, darkened place to rest. But still, he worried. Stuffing an abused, neglected filly into a box might look bad. It was a silly fear, but one that lingered and refused to go away. Perhaps his fear of appearing to do wrong would keep him good and honest. 

"You seem afraid, Carnation. Worried about the storm?" 

"Feral weather gives me the shivers… isn't natural. It just blows out of nowhere and does as it pleases with no thought given to who or what it might hurt. That's awful. The weather should be made to behave… or at the very least made to follow a schedule. Dangerous as it is, it should be regulated in some manner." 

A weather team might be useful, but not currently feasible due to a severe lack of pegasus ponies. An army of pegasus ponies would keep the fields safe, but would also need to be fed, meaning that more food would have to be grown. How many farmers did it take to field a soldier? What of a whole weather team? A cold wind blew over his face, lifted his forelock away from his eyes, and tugged upon his fuzzy, untrimmed ears. He was starting to look as feral as the weather, but thankfully, there was a distinct lack of mirrors in the barony. 

Feral weather was weather in its natural state; yet Carnation saw it as unnatural. He understood why and could accept the seeming contradiction in this statement. In Canterlot and the surrounding regions, the weather was mostly tamed. Central Equestria was the breadbasket of their great nation and agricultural security was paramount. Eventually, he too would have to protect his assets. But today, the storm would blow feral and fierce. 

"Do you like it here, Carnation? Are you happy?" 

"Um… uh… I wasn't at first?" Ears down, she bit her lip for a moment and chewed. "I took the rejection from Lord Sumac pretty hard. I only came here because I had nowhere else to go. Wasn't too happy about having to settle. But my feelings have changed considerably." She blinked, her white mane got tossed about in the wind, and her soulful eyes focused completely upon Sundance. 

"I'm part of something larger. We're doing something here. Us. There's a strong sense of 'we' in everything we do. I always felt so isolated. Just a face in a crowd. I was part of the herd, sure, but so was everypony else and the herd was just far too large. It was impossible to stand out or get noticed. But here… here, I am important. Here, I am Carnation Nosegay, and I help ponies. Everypony knows my name. And I know the names of everypony around me. Sauerkraut Pie and Kant Apfel are like two old grandmares I never knew I wanted. Couldn't imagine life without them." 

Whatever fearfulness she had about the weather was now gone; she stood proud and unafraid. 

"You should get that crate to Corduroy before the storm hits," he said to the young mare that had recovered her poise and confidence. "And if you don't mind, please, make certain that everything is shuttered and secured. We don't want any broken windows." 

"Sure thing," she replied. "Oh… I wanted to say… thank you for giving me a chance." 

"Carnation… you are most welcome…" 



 

Rain pounded upon every inch of the dining hall as if it demanded to be invited inside so that it too could get out of the wet. The wooden timbers shuddered and groaned as the wind attempted to have its way with the building. Closed shutters creaked against their hinges but the steadfast barriers refused to open. Frustrated that it was denied entry, the storm howled as it threw a tempestuous tantrum. Extra-crackly thunder exploded and seemed to echo within the confines of the box canyon whilst spears of intense blue-white light strobed through the narrow gaps and left the eyes dazzled. 

A scrawny, almost sickly-looking cat snoozed in a basket while an enormous two-headed dog loomed protectively over the barony's precious young. Meanwhile, an owlcoon skittered around Sweet Relish, who stood on wobbly legs whilst she blew glistening spit bubbles. A donkey and a burro—both foals—huddled beneath a blanket together, clutching at one another with each cannon-volley of thunder. For Sundance, these were good times. The storm, for all of its supposed fury, brought them together. It was now a time of rest and respite—and oh how he needed some rest and respite. 

Even though the dining hall had been expanded during the barony's reconstruction, it now felt small, crowded, and a bit too cramped. But it was also cosy and there was something about the closeness that was whole, right, and good. Even though Sundance was a pony who appreciated his own sense of space, he found himself rather enjoying this close moment, this togetherness that the storm brought. He missed Corduroy though. She was in the infirmary with Sparrowhawk, Silent Thunder, and Sulky. 

"Fantastic," Puddle Jumper said quite suddenly. "I have a captive audience. This is a perfect time for a lesson."

A few of the foals groaned and moaned, but it was good-natured protest. At least, Sundance hoped it was. A quick scan of the room revealed that nopony seemed particularly put out by what was said and this would be the perfect remedy to alleviate the boredom brought by the storm. Even the adults seemed interested, with turned heads and pricked ears. The old ones liked a bit of schooling it seemed, and were eager for something to do. Idleness was frowned upon by the old peasants, and it seemed that learning was just another type of labour, a task to be done. 

"Lemongrass asked some very interesting questions, which gave me ideas for a lesson plan." The pegasus paused after a particularly loud blast of thunder, and he trembled for a time. But his need to teach overcame his fearfulness and he recovered himself in short order. "Though, before we begin, I must confess, I am no great magical scholar. I have a bit of book learning and a broad knowledge of the subject, but no great understanding. Hopefully, if I go astray, young Miss Sunflower can set me straight." 

Closing her book, Paradox nodded whilst she gave all of her attention to Puddle Jumper. 

"You'll have to excuse me if I become distracted," he continued. "This is difficult for me. But keeping myself busy is good medicine for what ails me." He took a moment to clear his throat and his eyes glittered with restrained anxiety. "Lemongrass had some questions about magic and I could think of no better subject for a rainy day. We're Equestrians, each and every one of us, and magic is our greatest natural resource. It is only fitting that we all have some basic understanding of that which is most precious to us." 

Now supremely relaxed, Sundance lifted his teacup to his nose and inhaled the fragrant steam. 

"Magic," he began, "is a great and difficult subject of study. It doesn't like to be studied, and will resist all efforts of observation. When studied, even with the utmost care, magic will give wildly different results and will have varied outcomes even with the most rigorous efforts to maintain consistency and conformity during a study. I do find it peculiar that even the most powerful of harmonious magicks just so happens to be profoundly chaotic. When one gives it the consideration it deserves, one might conclude that the chaos that most of us detests is in fact a necessary part of life.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle is the living Element of Magic. She is quick to tell others that she has very little understanding of magic, and those that claim mastery or understanding of magic actually know nothing at all." 

Lemongrass raised his hoof up to eye level. 

"Yes, young Master Lemongrass?" 

"If Princess Twilight is the Element of Magic, and the Princess of Magic, and she is magic, does that make her unknowable?" 

When Puddle Jumper chuckled, so too did most of the room, and even Sundance joined in. 

"What an excellent question," the scholarly pegasus said to the young colt. "One that I am positive that Princess Twilight would find most amusing. It is said that the Element Bearers do take on certain aspects of their elements, so I am certain that Princess Twilight probably has a well-developed sense of mystery about her. Which brings me to our subject of discussion: the Elements. The foundation stones of magic. And not just the Elements of Harmony, but all of the various elements and elementals found in magic, some of which might not seem like elements, but, for the purpose of magical discussion, are considered and called elements." 

"I'm confused," Mytilene said without raising her big beefy hand. 

"Worry not, young Miss Mytilene," Puddle Jumper said to the young minotaur maid. "All shall be made clear in time. Does anypony—ahem—anybody have any questions before I continue?" 

"Why are the Elements of Harmony different from the other elements?" asked Gisela, who also failed to raise her talons to be called upon. "Why do they stand out?" 

"Excellent question, and we're about to discuss that very subject. Again, should I go astray, I am hoping that young Miss Sunflower will offer gentle correction." 

"I'm a unicorn and I've spent most of my life studying magic. Thousands upon thousands of hours of study. I can explain some of the nuts and bolts of it"—Paradox's head turned from side to side, which caused her fiery mane to bob over her bright eyes—"but I don't understand much of it at all." 

"Spoken like a true scholar," was Puddle Jumper's pleased response and he gave Paradox a stately nod of approval. "Now, about those Elements of Harmony. What makes them stand out? The answer is quite simple and mind-bogglingly complex. Ponies and other creatures believe in them. They are believed to be mysterious, mystical, and magical in extra-special ways. 

"Princess Twilight has shown that there is, indeed, a special magic unique to friendship. There is powerful magic to be found in kindness. This magic is made even stronger because so many creatures believe in the magic of kindness, or friendship, or laughter. This belief is so strong that these special magicks have manifestations… embodiments of representation. 

"Belief gives power. As an example, let's mention love. We have a Princess of Love, and even a manifestation of love in the form of the Crystal Heart. Some consider this to be the seventh Element of Harmony. But ponies and other creatures very much believe in the power of love. They believe it will change their lives. Some believe that it can alter the course of destiny. It is a belief so strong and so powerful that some creatures spend their lives in pursuit of it, hoping to find that perfect love. All this belief gives power… and Princess Cadance is the living embodiment of this power. Love has transcended into a manifested elemental force that can be brought to bear as magic. 

"Love and friendship have much in common, though both are very different. They do compliment each other though, and I am of the opinion that one could not exist without the other. But they are contrasting enough that their manifestations have come to embody very different things." 

"I love my foals." Eyes warm, her face serene, Hollyhock also failed to raise her hoof before speaking. "All of them. Each and every one of them, without exception. I hope that I am also their friend. Most of the time. There's times though that I can't be their friend." As she spoke, she glanced in Sundance's direction for a moment, and then turned away before he could make eye-contact. "There are times that I have to be their mom because I love them. That can make it difficult to be their friend, because I have to do what is best for them." 

"Well said, Miss—" 

"Please"—the mare turned bashful—"just call me Hollyhock. Or Holly." 

"Well said, Miss Hollyhock. But can a friend also do what is necessary? Can a friend also offer tough love?" 

"Well, I suppose they can." Rubbing her chin, Hollyhock turned thoughtful. "I only brought it up because it was an example that I understood." 

"Excellent, Miss Hollyhock." With a smile upon his face, Puddle Jumper glanced around the room. "Now let us return to the subject at hoof." 

As Sundance slurped his tea, he heard Puddle Jumper say, "And now we'll discuss the elemental elements. Which is a terrible name, but what can you do? Sometimes, scholars are a bit stodgy. They're not the most creative creatures. Which is why so many fascinating subjects have awful or otherwise mundane names. Like elemental elements and—" 

A terrific crackle of thunder caused Puddle Jumper to pause, mouth-open, and his eyes glazed over with fearful unease. All of him, every inch of him from hoof to ear trembled and shook. It grew so bad that Sundance feared the stricken scholar would be unable to continue. But then, something curious and heartwarming happened. Runt, already in a dreadful state himself because of the storm, went to Puddle Jumper's side, sat down, and then the almost petrified pup clung to the terrified teacher's foreleg. 

There was a brief interlude as a powerful silence claimed the room, and then thunder exploded once more. This one was far, far worse than the last, and several of the ponies in the room spooked. Even Sundance was left unsettled by the blast, as evidenced by his ruffled feathers. Fretful, fearful for those in the infirmary, he hoped that they were fine. Then, as the thunder echoed, the sounds of the storm changed significantly as hail joined the pounding rain. 

"We have the elemental elements," Puddle Jumper said, his voice all a-quiver with bowel-clenching terror. "Things like storm magic. Wind. Lightning… electricity. Pegasus ponies and certain griffons are attuned to these elements. There are exceptions, however, such as pegasus ponies attuned to the element of earth, and these unique pegasus ponies can conjure up dust devils. There's a lot of speculation about why certain pegasus ponies can do this, but no real satisfying explanation." 

Hail tappity-tap-tap-tapped against the roof and shuttered windows. 

"Fire and electricity are common attunements for unicorns, and then you have rarer attunements such as hydromancy." Puddle Jumper's speech was impeded by his trembling jaw and tight, taut lips. "Earth ponies, of course, tend to be attuned with earth, though not always. There are earth ponies with specialised attunements and strong connections to stone, for example. Shatterstone practitioners rely upon this connection for their unique magic. And then you have earth ponies with thoroughly baffling attunements to gravity. A rare gift, indeed." 

With his wing now wrapped securely around Runt, he continued. 

"Certain elements come from other planes, like how fire is channeled from the Infernium. Or storm magic that comes from the Tempestatibus, a monster whose body was destroyed and his spirit was bound to the sky. I've heard stories that before he was a monster, he was an alicorn, and he had his name stolen from him. It is said that this dreadful monster might return someday if a storm ever grows too large. Channeling storm magic is dangerous because to do so, one must channel his infinite rage." 

Thunder crashed for several impossibly long seconds and everything shook from the concussive force. Runt yelped and buried his face into Puddle Jumper's side. Meanwhile, Bonk, alone without Runt, tackled Gerard and held tight to the griffon. Tarantula and Flax were completely buried and hidden beneath the blanket, their faces no longer visible. Geiger Tiger was no longer in his basket; in fact, the cat was nowhere to be seen, and it was as if the feline had simply vanished. Sweet Relish made every effort to hide beneath her mother. Pluck wore a brave face, but his surviving eye was glassy with terror. 

Earwax, her three legs twitching, muttered, "I damn near wet myself with that one." 

Then, his voice squeaky with fear, Pluck said to her, "I almost did too." 

In response, Earwax scooped up the colt with her foreleg, and then held him close. 

He did not protest. 

One eye, and one foreleg; together, they made for quite a pair. 

The door rattled and thumped against its frame as the wind attempted to force entry. Everything shook and shuddered. Hailstones pitter-pattered, rain splattered, and even though it creaked in protest, the dining hall defied the elements. Wind whistled through the narrow gap beneath the door and water crept inside. Bristling with defiance, its tail a bushy, frizzy exclamation point, the owlcoon hissed at the door as it went thumpity-thump-bump. 

"Stay out," was Privy Pit's stern warning to the unwanted, unwelcome guest. 

"Yeah." Floodgate gulped, tried to work up his courage, and nodded. "Stay out or the Milord will come out there and give you damn good hiding." 

"Yeah!" several voices said in unison. "A damn good hiding!" 

Baffled and more than a little concerned, Sundance wondered just how he was supposed to pick a fight with a storm. It wasn't something taught to him in school, and his mother certainly hadn't said much about it. Neither did his grandmother. If he was expected to give the storm a 'damn good hiding', then his peasants would surely be disappointed. As the pounding of the hail intensified, he found himself worrying about what sort of damage might be done to their crops. 

Perhaps a damn good hiding was justified.