The Light of a Candle

by Scarheart


Six.

The Memories Remain

June and Cadence spent the next couple of hours after Jakob and the others had left cleaning. Dishes were washed, dried, and put away. June made her bed and straightened up her room. Cadence showered and then cleaned the bathroom (there was no tub, but instead an enormous shower with multiple shower heads encased in frosted glass). The dining table was wiped off, chairs scooted in. 

The princess found the drawing June had been working on. It was of Fizzlepop drinking her coffee. It was beautiful; a crude and adorable little piece, which made the princess smile. The girl liked the unicorn. Cadence was certain the girl was growing on the mare. Still, this meant nothing, not this early. Fizzlepop was a confirmed bachelorette and it was rumored she had interests elsewhere. Those sultry opal orbs and cool demeanor made Cadence shiver. The unicorn was every bit as private as the man.

To say the Princess of Love meddled with the affairs of the heart could be argued by multiple parties who cared to engage in the debate. It depended on what was needed. Sometimes, a relationship needed just a little nudge in the right direction, or the right word spoken at the appropriate time. Other times, it required a more ‘tough love’ approach, like putting members of a pair of feuding families together in a tower and locking the door until the desired results had been achieved (This had happened once and Cadence had sworn in the aftermath to never do it again).

While June finished up in her room, the princess went outside and up to the oak tree. She went to Kaga’s grave and looked where she had placed the candle the night before. It was right where she had left it. Her horn filled with magic and the aura reached out and gave a cautious feel of the candle. A warm amber glow responded, and Cadence gasped. Her heart began pounding in her chest as she picked it up. The candle was held aloft. The princess examined it and could feel an old magic within. The candle felt alive.

She fumbled with her magical grip in her growing excitement. There was a touch of fear, as this was magic older than Celestia and Luna. It was magic the pink alicorn did not fully understand, but she had trusted her aunts. Twilight had her doubts, but did admit there was a very good chance the spell would indeed work as intended. Cadence hid the candle away in a small leather satchel she had found in the house. Casting one last look at the grave, she inhaled the fragrances of the flowers, closing her eyes as she did. A smile formed, one of hope, and she went back down the hill.

June was waiting for her in front of the house. The girl looked anxious and fidgeted. She was hugging a small backpack to her chest. A look of relief washed over her when she saw Cadence. “Were you saying goodbye to Mother?” she asked.

“Yes,” Cadence said. “Are you ready to go?”

The girl nodded slowly.

“All right, get on my back and I’ll teleport us.” Cadence knelt and stretched out a wing. June slid her pack onto her back and clambered up. Wrapping her arms around the alicorn’s neck, she tried to get comfortable.

“Okay,” the girl said. “Will it hurt?”

“It won’t hurt you,” the princess told her. “You might feel a little dizzy after we teleport, but you’ll be fine.” The girl tightened her grip around the alicorn’s neck. “I promise, nothing bad will happen to you. It might even be fun! Now, on the count of three, take a deep breath and hold it until you hear a popping sound. Okay?”

June nodded into her neck.

“One!”

June tensed.

“Two!”

June inhaled.

“Three!”

Cadence unleashed the spell, her horn igniting. There was a moment of disorientation and darkness, but it passed with a loud pop. Flaring out her wings, Cadence knew she was going to appear in midair and caught the wind. There was a small but explosive exhale of air into her ears as the girl slumped into her mane. Pleased with her transit, but also concerned for her passenger, she landed in the middle of the street of Berryville, with ponies startled by her sudden appearance and staring. Armed and armored guards were already approaching with purpose, calling out to their princess.

“June?” Cadence called over her shoulder after landing, “are you still with me?” Her ears turned and tuned in, listening.

Wide eyes and a mouth gaping like a landed fish greeted her. A gleeful grin formed, along with the begging question,  “Can we do that again?” 


“So, let me get this straight,” Fizzlepop Berrytwist had a voice that conveyed how idiotic the proposal was, “you want Jakob to challenge a minotaur in honorable combat.”

Queen Cassandra regarded the unicorn with equal dismissal. “A simple plan.”

“It’s a stupid plan!” hissed the mare, splaying her ears back and over her skull.

The changeling pointed at Jakob. “It suits him perfectly!” she insisted. “You go with him—”

“Wait, what?” The ears shot up.

“—as his second. Minotaurs are all about honorable combat! Having you as a second would convey how serious our sapient human takes their culture. He’ll be impressed! I promise,” Cassandra waved off her concern. 

“That’s assuming this bull is the honorable type. Considering this is a bandit camp, I highly doubt honor is a thing!” snapped Fizzlepop. “It’s like you are trying to get us killed.”

Cassandra withdrew, her eyes wide with shock, “Why, I would never!”

The unicorn deadpanned, “Make me a believer. You go challenge the bull.”

“Enough,” Jakob interrupted. He had been off to the side, listening to the two as they argued. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, he was staring at his boots, his arms crossed over his chest. His sword was strapped to his back, the hilt poking over his right shoulder. “Cassandra, how many of your children are here and able to assist?” The man had one of the queen’s children sitting next to him, looking up with what could only be described as an adoring look.

“I’m not sending them in against griffons,” she sniffed, regarding him with cold eyes.

“I am not asking you to do that. How many?” Jakob reached out and scratched the drone behind an ear.

Cassandra replied with a terse, “Twenty.”

“All of them, then.”

Confused, Fizzlepop asked, “Why so few? I thought changeling hives had hundreds, if not thousands of drones.”

Cassandra snarled and looked away from Jakob. “I am limited to how many eggs I can lay,” she hissed with shame.

“And your children are precious to you,” the human finished for her. “I understand, bug horse. I will not ask you to sacrifice your children.” Jakob lifted his chin and exhaled slowly. “I am concerned about the minotaur. I am concerned about the lion birds. Their numbers are a dozen. However, they are not organized. They are a collection of individuals. Unit cohesiveness will be nonexistent. This group might have skilled fighters, but no soldiers. Honor will be a weakness in their eyes.”

Fizzlepop clucked her tongue. “Don’t you think that’s an assumption?”

“Griffons live in the lands bordering mine,” Jakob told her as he tugged at his beard. “It was prudent to learn of their culture. Their country has no traditional army, but clan-led militias. A pride of griffons will be related to each other. Griffons in a bandit camp are exiles. They will not band like a clan will and will instead have a pecking order based on strength and cunning. It would not be unreasonable to think the minotaur will be no different.”

“Know your enemy,” she said with a nod. “Impressive. How will you know for certain?”

“By walking through the front gate,” he grunted. 

Cassandra’s grin was wide.

“Why?” Fizzlepop exploded, whirling on him. “Explain this idiocy!”

“I know what I can and cannot do. What I can do is distract them. What I cannot do is distract them and rescue those ponies. The griffons will know who I am. They will fear my approach. While I confront them, I want you,” Jakob pointed a finger at Cassandra, “to find those ponies and get them out. Once they are safely out of the way, have your children isolate and use their venom to paralyze the griffons. You are capable of coordinating a simultaneous strike on a thought. Be quick and unseen. Can you do that?” he challenged the queen.

“My dear, sweet monkey,” she purred, “Quick and unseen is in the blood of all changelings.”

“When I confront the minotaur, wait until you are sure I have their attention, then strike.”

Fizzlepop rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Shaking her head, she let out a deep sigh, “What do you want me to do?”

“Watch my back,” Jakob told her, “plans often fail. Be ready when this one does. Then we will adapt and we will win.”

“All this for a pair of reporters?” the unicorn shook her head, a wry smile forming. “Bad ones at that?” A grudging admiration for the human’s courage (or lack of common sense) was beginning to take hold.

“They are citizens of Equestria,” Jakob told her, “even if I think they are opportunistic fools. Besides, Cadence still wishes to have words with them.” He peered skyward and pushed himself from the tree, boots crunching on the forest floor. “Let us get this over with. My daughter is waiting for me.”

“It’s amazing,” Cassandra uttered to Fizzlepop as they fell in step behind him.

“What is?” The mare cocked her head at the queen.

“I can’t sense any fear from him at all. He has his love for his daughter and a simmering combination of rage and guilt. It is a terrifying delight for me,” Cassandra shivered, puckering her lips as she stared after the human. “He is a living, breathing machine of war. Every sane instinct I have is screaming at me to run away from him. The rest wants to jump his bones.”

Fizzlepop opened her mouth to say something, but found the words dying before they found her tongue. Shuddering, she shook her head in disgust and put a little more distance between herself and the changeling.

Cassandra trotted along, letting out a throaty chuckle and licking her lips.


“Cadence, can I talk to you about something?” June asked, her words timid as she shared a table with the princess inside the hotel. The pair were having tea. Outside, there was a great commotion, one which had been ongoing since the alicorn had arrived in town. The guards were assembling, with orders to depart as soon as possible.

“You can talk to me about anything you want, dear,” the princess smiled, adjusting her wings. Her ears were erect and pointed at the girl, giving her the undivided attention she needed.

The girl stared into her tea. It was nice to drink the same thing as the adults, sometimes. It was nice being able to tell them something June felt was important. She had tried this before with Father, but he had been stubborn and told her it was not something to be discussed. But she could see and lived with the problem every day. At least, she thought it was a problem.

“You have to promise not to tell Father,” June said, being deliberate with her words as her eyes matched them. “You have to promise!”

This was unexpected. Cadence inhaled, wondering why there was a sense of dread. How could there be? There had been no sign of Jakob doing anything wrong to his daughter. “June,” she started, fighting her own sense of confusion, “if Jakob has done anything to you—”

“No!” the girl shook her head, clutching her teacup. “It’s not that. Promise me, please!”

“All right, please calm down, June. I promise,” Cadence said as she nuzzled the girl. She straightened and cleared her throat before doing an odd little ritual. “ Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”

June stared at Cadence. “What?” she deadpanned.

Embarrassed and a tad offended, the princess’s ears splayed out, “I’m only making a promise to you, June. Please, I’m being sincere. I want to listen. I’m waiting to listen! I’m willing to listen!”

June gave her godmother a hard stare for a few more moments. Finally, she said, “Father is lonely. I don’t like that he’s lonely. He deserves to be happy. He’s never happy for himself. I can tell, honest!”


The battle began almost as soon as the challenge had been issued.

The minotaur was a monster. His red fur covered a lot of scars and heavy, gnarled muscle. His right ear was missing and the right side of his face was nothing more than a massive burn scar. A horn was missing. The other had a blade affixed to its point. He was stripped down to the waist. Towering over Jakob, the beast man had charged the moment the challenge had been placed. The hulking beast’s one eye glittered with cruel intelligence and it was locked squarely upon the human.

It was armed with a great poleaxe. The weapon had a terrifying reach. Jakob dove to one side as the minotaur charged by, making a wide, arcing swing.

Fizzlepop ignited her stump of a horn. The nub crackled with electricity, bolts arcing at the minotaur. Her teeth were grit as the pain shot through her head like an iron spike. The pain fueled her power and the minotaur was struck in the back.

He bellowed, whirled with staggering steps of its cloven hooves. Seeing the mare pouring magic at him, the minotaur swung its weapon again as lightning ripped through its body. Fizzlepop leapt into the air, kicking her hooves like a dancer and soared over the swing. She landed, light as a feather, an almost bored expression upon her. Her graceful hooves carried her out of the path of the charging bull, who reached clumsily for her with his free hand.

With the minotaur distracted by the pony with the broken horn, Jakob charged, shouting something in a language Fizzlepop had never heard before. It was guttural and savage, fitting the man perfectly. Though three times smaller than the minotaur, the human had his sword poised over his head, bringing it down with full force.

A back swing forced Jakob to bring his sword to block the massive forearm, but it still connected. The human went flying. Dipping his shoulder, he rolled on impact, grunting in pain and lost his grip on his sword. It clattered away, leaving the man unarmed and facing another charge from the minotaur.

Jakob wore a grim smile.


“June,” Cadence began, “I have something for you that might help. It is a gift, one that my aunts, my sister-in-law, and myself have worked off and on over the past few years. We had no idea when would be a good time to give it to you. There were so many distractions! Equestria is still rebuilding since the Storm King was defeated.” She inhaled a quick breath and pulled out the candle.

The girl looked at it, curious. “It’s a candle,” she stated.

The alicorn smiled. “It’s more than just a candle, June. We spent years working memories into the wax, comparing what we know. We tested and tested and tested. Failure happened frequently. It is old magic, most of which was lost to time. We rediscovered much of it, rather Twilight did. She poured much of her time and effort into this, perhaps more than the rest of the alicorns combined. Memory spells were used. Those who knew your mother were brought in and some were happy to help. It was a concerted effort. The spell lasts for so long as the wick burns and it is finite, June.” Her words were soft as the candle was set on the table between the two.

“What does it do?” the girl asked, peering intently at it, expecting something was about to happen. Nothing did and a pout of disappointment appeared.

“It is a memory spell woven into the wick and held together by the wax,” Cadence explained. “When you light the wick, the spell comes to life. The memories come together to create a personality and an image of the individual who was that personality.”

“It does? Who?”

The princess smiled at the girl, “Your mother.”

The girl’s eyes went wide. “How?” 

“We used strands of your mother’s hair in the wick,” the alicorn went on. “They were donations given freely when she was trying to be accommodating to our curiosity. The magic requires something of the one with which to recreate the personality. The memories add to who she was in life. June,” Cadence warned, “this will not replace your mother. You can ask the candlelight questions and it will answer. The voice will be your mother’s. The emotions will be your mother’s, but it will not be your mother. The magic will create an echo and that echo will be based on the memories collected and put into the wick. Does that make sense?”

“No,” came the bewildered reply.

“How about I show you?”


Fizzlepop and Jakob were weaving, dancing with the minotaur. It’s poleax was gone, the haft shattered and the head buried in the ground. The human sported a nasty cut on his left arm above the elbow and he favored it. His teeth gritted as he touched his left ribs. Fizzlepop was bruised and had taken a glancing blow from a massive fist. She was as energetic and focused as before, but her breathing was becoming labored.

The minotaur was struggling to stay on his hooves, trying to face his foes. He snarled and bellowed, swiping at the quick unicorn and lunging at the stubborn monkey who refused to stay down. There were cuts along both arms and burnt fur and skin on his back and shoulders. The confidence had fled from his eyes. The unicorn was annoying, but the monkey…

For the first time, he spoke, “What are you?”

“I am a man protecting what is his,” came the reply. 

“Where are my boys?” the minotaur’s eyes lifted and scanned. “Cowards!”

He spotted a line of creatures smaller than griffons, perched along the ruins and looking on with keen interest. A cacophony of buzzing filled the air. Two pegasi were sitting with a large version of the little buzzy winged creatures. It was grinning widely. One of the pegasi was taking pictures with his camera.

“He’s got a fresh roll in!” said the tall creature with the big bug wings.

“Cowards,” he repeated, staring. “Useless cowards!” Whatever plans there were had fallen apart while he had been battling the monkey and the pony.

“The battle is lost, minotaur,” Jakob told him, “surrender.”

The beast man chuckled humorlessly. “Surrender? If this is my day to die, then let it be by combat!”

“Oh,” snarked Fizzlepop, “so now you want an honorable death? Now you choose honor? It doesn’t work that way.” She stepped towards the minotaur, unimpressed and unfazed. “Let me tell you something, minotaur. You don’t get out of this without punishment. Death is too good for you. I don’t know how many you have hurt or killed, but that ends today and tomorrow, you’ll get what you deserve.” Her nub flared and she snarled. Opal eyes narrowed, showing contempt, nostrils flared. Stepping forward, she menaced the bull.

Roaring, the minotaur charged her, intent on stampeding the annoying broken unicorn that refused to take a proper hit and refused to stay still to take one! The frustration was apparent and had grown as the battle had progressed. Now, Fizzlepop had enough of the minotaur and decided to do something about it. The frightful bellow changed in an instant, a silent and frozen moo of pain as electricity leapt from the pony and coursed through his body. Twitching and spasming, the minotaur fell to the ground.

All he could do now was whimper pathetic little cow noises.

“That went longer than I was expecting,” Jakob announced, rubbing his side with a ginger touch. “He hits hard.” He stared down at the minotaur as the unicorn came to his side for her own gander.

“Why didn’t you just dodge?” Fizzlepop asked as she prodded the inert minotaur with a hoof. She looked at him, panting a little bit. A cheeky smile graced her lips. Her nub sparked and she winced. “I think I overdid it.” She was wobbly on her legs. “Yeah, I think I’m going to…”

Jakob managed to catch her with his one good arm, grunting in his own pain. Both were in a heap and both were spent.

Cassandra’s wings carried her over to the pair and their victim. Her mulish ears flicked as her expression was unreadable. Her hooves touched earth, and she walked to the pair, her horn glowing. “You have broken ribs, my little monkey,” she told Jakob, “and you, missy, managed to absorb your own magic in an effort to not kill the minotaur. Kinda noble, in a stupid way, if you ask me.” She patted Fizzlepop on the shoulder.

The two reporters flew in. Picture Perfect and Truth Written appeared shaken, but unharmed. Gratitude and guilt seemed to dominate their very beings.


Cadence ignited her horn with a flicker. The candle was lit. June stared at it, even more curious than she had been before.

The light of the flame was ruddy and muted by the light of the day. The little flame swayed then steadied, as if waking up. The top of it took form, a tiny thing which managed to appear tall. With the curves of the female form, a mature glimpse of what June would one day be took shape in the flame. Tiny eyes formed in the head, surrounded by a full head of long, flame-licked hair. The flame looked around, and found the girl staring with awe.

“You’ve grown, June,” the fiery figure said with a smile.