Princess Luna’s School for Gifted Unicorns was a sizeable, many-spired, stone building, perched on the edge of Canterlot Castle’s gardens, like a miniature castle itself. It was only one of many schools around equestria that bore the princess’ name; Cloudsdale was home to Princess Luna’s Academy for Young Fliers, Dodge Junction held Princess Luna’s College of Earth and Life, the much-maligned fourth tribe were represented in Princess Luna’s School for Young Thestrals, hidden away in Hollow Shades, and she’d lost count of just how many unspecified primary schools she had sponsored.
And the princess did this because, well, she liked foals. She had moments of less-than-fine etiquette, an often melancholy attitude, and little patience for concealment or double-speak; all of these were known to most adults, and would be the subject of much conversation behind her back. Foals, though? Foals saw a princess, and they’d tell her whatever they thought, ask the silliest, most lovely and honest questions. Yes, she liked foals.
And that was why she sat in an empty examination room within the school, stifling a yawn as a pair of teachers on either side of her sorted through paperwork. It was a balmy summer afternoon, and most of the foals had gone home for the holidays just a fortnight ago. So today, they were providing entrance exams to the prospective students, and Luna always made time in her busy schedule to oversee these intake tests. It was, though, rather too early for her. She understood why - fillies and colts had their bedtimes. Princesses also had bedtimes, though, and they usually didn’t align.
“Are we ready to begin?” Ink Spot, the mare on her left, a unicorn with inky blue fur and a grey mane, asked. On Luna’s left, the other mare, the brightly-coloured Gentebright, nodded, and Luna did too. “Excellent. I’ll get the first student.”
And, long into the afternoon, the fillies and colts came in. Some did well - a filly and a colt were both accepted into the school, and their parents were told when to return to the school for introductions and instructions. Some were less fitting - two fillies and a colt were found to possess impressive talent, but not suited for the scope of the school. Luna let them down gently, and wrote out notes of recommendation for other schools in Canterlot. One poor filly was utterly overtaken with stage fright, and couldn’t conjure any magic at all in front of the examiners. After a long conversation, Luna had agreed to send an assessor to the family’s home in a few days, so that she could show her talent with less pressure.
By the time these tests were done, the afternoon was beginning to wear on, and Luna let herself yawn obviously between the exams. “How many more foals are there today, Ink?”
“Just one, your majesty. I can have her family go home if you-”
“No, no,” Luna waved one hoof. “Bring them in. I have nothing urgent to do.” Her seamstress was used to the princess’ lack of punctuality, by this stage.
“Right you are, your majesty.” The teacher trotted down through the classroom seats, and Luna leaned over in Gentebright’s direction.
“Who is our last prospect for the day?”
“One Twilight Sparkle, your majesty. From Canterlot.”
“Her cutie mark?”
The teacher hesitated for a second. “She doesn’t have one.”
Luna frowned; the school was intended for foals whose special talent was in magic. For a foal without a special talent to be considered was unusual, to say the least. “Does she have a notable magical heritage?”
“No, your majesty. Mother is Twilight Velvet, an author-”
“I think I’ve read one of her books.”
“-and father is Night Light, who owns a bookshop. She has one brother, Shining Armour, currently in training to join the Guard.” Gentebright’s magic hummed softly, as she flipped through the pages on her clipboard. “Her recommendation note is from Silver Sun, though. It says she’s ‘utterly remarkable’.”
That was high praise - Silver Sun was another of the school’s teachers, and he was somewhat infamous for being hard to impress. “Well, we’ll certainly give her a fair chance, won’t we?” Luna smiled as Ink Spot beckoned the family into the room. Twilight Sparkle, the filly, had a violet coat and a darker mane. She was at that age when her head seemed too big for her body, and her purple eyes were wide and mystified as she looked up at the princess. Luna offered a gentle smile and waved down with a foreleg. Her parents, a grey mare and a blue stallion, waited by the door as Ink Spot hurried back to her seat and Luna spoke to the filly. “Good afternoon, Twilight. We’d like to see your magic today, so we’d like you to try hatching that dragon’s egg.” The egg was spotted with two tones of purple, almost as big as the filly herself, and sat in a little handcart in a nest of straw, and Twilight’s eyes grew even wider at the request.
Luna wasn’t expecting her to hatch the egg, of course - even she would have to concentrate hard to induce its hatching, it would be impossible for a foal. No, the would-be students were given that objective simply to see what would happen when they focused hard on a spell. For younger unicorns talented in magic, side effects were common when focusing on a spell, and it was these side effects and their intensity they were watching. It was more effective than a simple request to show their magic in general, which typically caused foals to clam up and become nervous. Why a dragon diplomat had gifted Luna with a dragon’s egg, she still didn’t know, but it had proven very useful for these tests.
“OK.” The filly squeaked, sticking out her tongue in concentration as her horn lit up in purple. A similar aura surrounded the egg, and it began to tremble slightly. Luna simply watched as the other teachers scribbled down notes, watched as Twilight’s eyes screwed shut and her cheeks puffed out and turned red with intense concentration. The egg trembled slightly, and there was a long pause, before the purple aura died, and Twilight panted, her legs shaking for a moment. The egg didn’t move, and the filly hung her head as she walked back towards the door, mumbling out an apology for wasting time.
Luna felt dreadful for the filly who had come in so wide-eyed, and was opening her mouth to offer reassurance and an opportunity to try again at a later date, when an explosion of light rocked the room. Every eye turned to the window, which was illuminated with the edge of a rainbow spreading across the sky. Every mouth opened to ask a question, but their attentions were brought back into the room by a startled squeak.
Twilight’s horn was aglow again, and the dragon egg was coated in an almost opaque magical aura, trembling rapidly enough to shake its nest of straw away. Luna felt herself grinning as the egg opened with a resounding crack. The magic faded as the shell shattered entirely, revealing the shape of a purple-and-green dragon, sitting in a large fragment of shell and staring around the room in wonder.
“I did it!” Twilight squeaked. But then it struck her that her horn was still aglow. “Oh. Oh dear.” She scrunched up her face in concentration again, but couldn’t stop her magic now that the odd rainbow had uncorked it.
A beam flew from her horn, making Ink Spot yelp and duck aside as it skimmed by Luna’s ear, dissipating against the stone ceiling behind her. More spells were blasted out of the little filly, most, but not all, fizzling out on the stone of the building. One struck Luna in the chest, filling her with a strange tingling that made her giggle. Another stuck Twilight’s parents, who were slowly edging towards their daughter until they were suddenly replaced with a pair of potted plants (a temporary transfiguration, easy to reverse, Luna assured herself). And one struck the baby dragon, who began to grow. And grow. And keep growing until his head, larger than Luna, burst through the school’s ceiling, easily crushing the cart on which his egg had sat.
After that, Twilight had exhausted herself. Her magic faded, and she slowly opened her eyes, looking at the colossal baby dragon, her inanimate parents, the teachers who cowered under the desks. “Oh no. I-I’m so sorry!”
“Well done, Twilight Sparkle!” Luna grinned, raising her forelegs to clap for the filly. After staring at the princess for a moment, the teachers collected themselves and sat up to clap alongside the princess. Without mentioning it, Luna raised her own magic to reverse Twilight’s accidental spells, returning the newborn dragon to an appropriate size and her parents to ponies. They looked bemused, but grinned when they saw the applauding Luna. “What a magnificent display!”
“Does that mean that I got in?” The filly squeaked, hope in her eyes.
“You certainly did, young lady! And you found your special talent.”
“I did?” She asked, stretching her neck to look at her own flank. Where, among her magical outburst, a purple star surrounded by white stars had appeared in a flash of light. “I did!” She bounced straight upwards. “I got my cutie mark!”
Luna gave the filly a few moments to dance around in celebration, before turning to her parents and quickly instructing them in the follow-up steps they’d have to take in the next few weeks. Then, with a last congratulation, she sent the family on their way, smiling as she listened to the parents leaving the room.
“We’re so proud of you, Twily!” The mother gushed eagerly.
“You don’t think the Princess will charge us for the roof, do you?” The father asked as their voices receded down the hallway.
“Well, that was a good way to end the day, wasn’t it?” Luna smiled at the teachers on either side of her, lifting the infant dragon with her magic and placing it on the desk in front of her. “And as for you, little one, lets get you set up in the castle, hm?”
A rap on the door of the family home, smart and quick. After a brief conversation within the house, the mother of the family went into the entrance hall and squinted through the peephole. Nothing obvious to see - they really needed to clean that.
“Who is it?” Night Light asked from the living room.
“Can’t see.” Twilight Velvet replied, undoing the chain. “But I’m sure it’ll be- Princess Luna?” She squeaked at the end, recoiling back at the sight of the great alicorn who stooped beneath their porch awning.
“Twilight Velvet.” Luna bowed her head respectfully. “I’m sorry to darken your door at such a late hour.”
“Oh my goodness, has something happened with Twily’s exam? We’re so sorry that she lost control, she just-”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Luna shook her head. “It’s nothing bad, not at all. I just… well, I need to ask a favour from your daughter.”
“A favour?” The mother blinked. “From Twily?”
“Yes. You see, the little dragon she hatched today, he has been utterly inconsolable all evening. I did some research, and it appears that dragons imprint on the first pony they see after hatching. Which is your daughter.” Luna smiled meekly, somewhat embarrassed. “I was hoping that you’d permit me to take her to the castle, just for a few minutes, to calm the little one down and get him to sleep. I know that this is out of the blue, and far too late for fillies to be going off on an adventure-”
“I’ll get her right away!” Twilight Velvet answered. “Please, come inside, Twily’s just brushing her teeth before bed.”
Luna nodded her thanks and stooped under the door of the home, swinging the front door shut behind her with her magic. She stood in the little entrance hall, dotted with coats and scarves on hangers, as the mother trotted upstairs. Through the other door was a living room, with a sofa, pair of armchairs, and crackling fire. Twilight’s father, familiar to Luna from the test earlier in the day, was gawking at her from an armchair for a moment, before she smiled at him and he remembered not to stare. In the other armchair was a juvenile, white, unicorn stallion, focused so intently on a miniature figure and set of paints that he hadn’t even noticed the Princess’ arrival.
“Here she is.” The pair of Twilights descended the stairs, the purple filly still with a few flecks of toothpaste on her fur.
“I-I’m not in trouble am I, Princess Luna?”
“No, of course not, little one.” Luna quickly ran her through what she’d learned of dragons’ imprinting. “So I think it’d be best if you came with me for a few minutes, just long enough to calm him down and get him to sleep. Could you do that for me, Twilight?”
“Yes, Princess!”
“Good.” Luna turned her attention to the mother. “Thank you for this. I shall have her back with you as soon as I possibly can.”
“Thank you, Princess. Do you need anything else before you go?”
“No, no, thank you. I’ve already taken quite enough advantage of your hospitality. Come along, Twilight.” She beckoned the filly out of the house, and bowed to her mother before walking down their garden pathway. Velvet watched them walk to the end of it before she shut the door.
“Princess Luna?”
“Yes, Twilight?”
“Is your leg OK?”
Observant, little Twilight; it took most ponies quite some time to pick up on the barely perceptible limp in her right foreleg, especially on a warm night like this when the pain was barely present. “It’s fine, yes. Just a little bit poorly, is all.” Luna stopped walking in the centre of the road, looking up at the castle. With a filly’s little legs, they’d be walking there for half an hour. “Would you like to fly there?” Twilight nodded eagerly, and Luna enveloped her in her magic, setting her down just behind her neck. “Now hold on tight.” Twilight gripped the back of Luna’s neck with all four legs, and Luna spread her wings, lifting off with a single, powerful flap. “Have you ever flown before?”
“N-No.”
“Don’t worry; I won’t let you fall.” Despite these assurances, Twilight kept her eyes screwed shut and her face pressed into Luna’s star-filled mane through all of their short flight. But after a few short minutes, Luna banked gently over the castle’s gardens, and landed on the balcony of the tallest tower, her own quarters. Twilight gaped at the impressive telescope set up there as she clambered off the Princess’ back. “Now,” she pressed one hoof to her mouth to signify quiet. “He might’ve fallen asleep already, so be really quiet, OK?” Twilight nodded eagerly, and Luna edged to the door, gently opening it.
The dragon had not fallen asleep. As soon as the seal of the door was broken, they were assailed by an impossibly loud, high-pitched, endless scream. The dragon lay in his crib in the corner of Luna’s bedroom, little claws balled into fists and pink mouth wide open and screaming. They’d fed him, rocked him, changed him, dressed him, undressed him, spoken to him, played music, left him alone, and he simply refused to be consoled. Of course, Luna could just conjure up a spell to force him to sleep, but that wouldn’t feel right.
“Oh dear,” Luna said softly, raising him out of the crib with her magic. “Come here, little one. Look who’s here!” She turned the baby dragon to Twilight, and it was like a switch was flipped. Suddenly, the hoarse screaming stopped, and the baby was reaching out to her with grabbing hands, eyes wide and still stained with a few tears.
“He looks happy.”
“He was just missing you.” Luna smiled gently, looking at Twilight’s wide, fascinated eyes. “Would you like to hold him?” Twilight nodded eagerly. “Just sit down, then.” Luna gestured to the low couch she kept by the balcony door, and Twilight hopped up onto it. The filly almost sank into the plush cushions, and Luna lowered the newborn dragon onto her lap. “Make sure you hold his head.”
“He’s so small.” Twilight whispered as the dragon gazed up, grabbing at her mane. He was almost as big as the young Twilight, but that was small for a dragon, Luna supposed. “What’s his name?”
“You know, he doesn’t have one yet.” Luna lowered herself onto the couch beside Twilight. “Would you like to name him?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You hatched him, and he certainly seems to think you’re his mama. Why not?”
Twilight was silent for a long few minutes, staring down at the tiny purple-and-green dragon, whose eyes were slowly slipping shut. He’d exhausted himself with that great tantrum, as Luna had suspected. “Spike.” Twilight whispered when he was asleep. “I want to name him Spike.”
“I think that’s a good name.” After another few moments, Luna lifted the sleeping dragon from Twilight’s lap with her magic, laid him back in his crib and pulled the blankets over him. “Thank you, Twilight.”
The filly smiled through a yawn - the sense of adventure had faded, and the tiredness was catching up to her. “I want to take him home.”
Luna smiled softly. “I don’t think your parents would be happy if you brought home a fire-breathing baby, would they?” Twilight sighed, shaking her head sadly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you can visit whenever you want. Come along, I should get you home.” She lifted the filly to lay on her back again, and stepped out onto the balcony. “I’d offer you a sweet, but that’d definitely make your mother angry with me.”
Twilight looked back into the room as Luna carried her out, looking at the massive bed, the many, tall bookcases, the shelves of odd little trinkets and magical apparatus. It was the Princess’ bedroom, like out of a fairy tale, and Twilight wished she’d looked around more. But she did look around as they flew home, at the moonlit gardens of the castles, then the old, complex streets of Canterlot, marked with dots of light from houses, and streetlights, and tiny, moving carriages. And then, through bleary, half-asleep eyes, Twilight was being set on the ground in her garden, beckoned back into the warm by her mother. She and the Princess exchanged a few words, before Luna crouched low to speak to Twilight.
“And thank you again, Twilight Sparkle. You’ve helped me a lot tonight.”
“Goodnight, Princess Luna.” She yawned, leaning against her mother’s leg. “It was nice to fly with you.”
“Goodnight, Twilight.” Luna smiled, before she spread her wings and vanished back into the night sky. Twilight was up well past her bedtime, and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She slept a lot later than she usually did, and the sunlight was already strong and hot, that of a late summer morning. For a few moments, as she brushed her teeth and combed her mane, she wondered if last night had been a dream. But she came downstairs and found her family feasting on a basket of pastries, still steaming, they were so fresh. Her father explained that they’d been delivered by a lovely pegasus in golden armour, and came with a card.
To Twilight and her family, it read, in beautiful calligraphy. And just beneath it was a little, crescent moon.
“...and I am pleased to be here today with you all, in this lovely-”
“You’re puffing your wings up again.”
“I am?” Luna frowned at her own reflection, noticing her wings slowly rising, wanting to flare out. She glared at them as she forced them back to lying flat against her back. “I thought I’d kicked that habit by now.” It was a nervous tic of Luna’s, wanting to flare her wings threateningly when she was worried. And, however much practise she had, making scripted speeches still worried her. “Now… where was I?”
“‘In this lovely city’, I believe.”
“Right. I am pleased to be here today with you all, in this lovely city, surrounded by future generations of…” She trailed off, then shook her head ferociously. “No, no, I've lost it.” She sighed. Why, after a thousand years, did she still struggle so much with this?
“Do you need me to rewrite it, ma’am? If you’re struggling with that section-”
“No, no, it’s a good speech, Raven.” Luna turned away from her own reflection in the full-length mirror in her break room, on the floor of the tower below her bedroom. The mirror had been put here specifically for practising speeches like this. Standing beside her was Raven Inkwell, a white-furred unicorn who was renowned for being about the most organised person in the castle and, to Luna, a friend, advisor, and occasional speech-writer. “I’m just better at improvising these things.”
“Do you need a break? We still have a couple of days before the opening.”
“I’m not taking any breaks until I can get this right, or I’ll never remember it. Though I still don’t see why I can’t just improvise it.”
“You can if you wish, of course, your majesty. But I wouldn’t recommend it. We don’t want a repeat of the incident in Cloudsdale last year, do we?”
Ah yes, last year’s speech at the reopening of the Young Fliers’ Academy. Where Luna had briefly gone off-script, then sneezed so violently, she entirely lost her train of thought and stood in silence before the assembled crowd for what felt like minutes before getting on with it. And, of course, the Cloudsdale Herald had it on the front page the next morning, a rather unflattering image of her mid-sneeze under the headline Princess Achoo-na!, which some journalist was probably very proud of.
(Though she’d never admit it to anyone, Luna was actually quite fond of that particular picture. Most images of her were stern and ‘proper’, so she liked to collect the more silly ones, so that she’d always be able to laugh at herself. One of the shelves in her bedroom hid a scrapbook full of particularly unflattering newspaper clippings. (An entirely different scrapbook to the one of immoral, unkind, and just plain untrue articles about her and the castle. She kept that one so she knew which journalists to stop inviting to events.))
“No, that would not be great. You’re right, as always.” She levitated the flashcards over to in front of her, skimmed through them again. It was a good speech, probably better than what she could’ve improvised.
“If I may, Luna, are you alright? You seem uncharacteristically nervous lately.”
Luna sighed. “I’m fine, Raven. Just dealing with little Spike.” Despite what Luna had hoped, the dragon was still unsettled most nights. He would sleep eventually, yes, but he was only really cooperative on the days when young Twilight had visited him.
“You could always ask the family to take him in.”
“No, Twilight’s only a filly, I couldn’t possibly burden her with looking after a newborn.”
“If you say so, your majesty.” A moment’s pause as Luna replaced the cards, adjusted her tiara. “Are you sure that’s all there is?”
Luna exhaled, sagging a little. “I’m just missing her, is all.”
“You always miss her around this time of year, don’t you?” Raven touched Luna’s shoulder with one hoof, one of very few ponies who’d dare to.
“It was her idea to tutor unicorn foals in magic, you know. Long before the School itself. And I just know that she’d love little Twilight.”
“You have my sympathy.”
“I know she’ll be back one day.” Luna cleared her throat, straightened herself, and locked eyes with her reflection again. “Right, once more, from the top. Don’t interrupt me until I’m finished, I need to say the end of it at least once.”
“As you like it, Luna.”
“Friends, it is my great honour to welcome you to this school for gifted unicorns. To those students and their parents who are returning, welcome back, I hope that you had a lovely, restful summer. And to those who are new to this institution, welcome! I hope that you will find this a wonderful, educational experience, and I know that you’ll leave as bright, kind, well-rounded grown-up ponies…”
“...And I’ve spoken for quite long enough today, so I’ll just once again say, welcome.” Luna paused for the crowd to applaud, clapping or stomping hooves. “The staff will be happy to show you all to your rooms, and the teachers and I will be right here to answer any questions.”
Luna turned from the crowd, trotting a few steps backwards, before she settled into her seat. She was atop a temporary, wooden stage, facing a set of bleachers in front of the school, where she’d just finished her speech welcoming the ponies and their parents. The students, new and returning, ranged in age from foals just with their cutie marks, to juveniles on the verge of adulthood, and bustled around with a great crowd with their parents. They were invited to stay for the first few nights to help their children settle into the school’s accommodation, and many families were led into the old building by porters, Guards, and teachers.
“I think most of them just want to get out of the cold.” Silver Sun grumbled. It was a chilly, autumn afternoon, and the aging unicorn sat covered in a tartan blanket on Luna’s right. Technically, Luna was the school’s headmistress, but she could only be here on relatively few days, so most of the responsibilities fell to him.
“Oh, we will get some questions, I’m sure.” Gentebright smiled warmly at the few families drifting in the stage’s direction. She was the head of the first-years at the school, a gentle, motherly sort of mare who greatly helped with homesickness among the new students.
“Navy, how lovely to see you!” Luna beamed at the young stallion who approached the stage, bowing his head. She took pride in knowing the names of all of her students. She was less confident with the names of most of their parents, so she just graced them with a smile. “Did you have a nice summer?”
“Yes, Princess.” He croaked. “But I’m glad to be back. I just wanted to ask Mister Sun about some of the work I did over summer.”
“Did you make any progress on that water-breathing spell?” The headmaster asked with characteristic bluntness.
“Yes, mister, I…”
Luna glanced over to Gentebright, in deep conversation with the parents of a particularly tearful-looking filly, Mint White. Luna would check on the little one as soon as Gentebright was done. But, not until she’d dealt with this particular filly. “Twilight Sparkle!” She boomed, grinning. “How are you? Excited to be started?” She didn’t look tearful, but it often took some time for the homesickness to set in.
“The library’s so big!” Twilight squeaked, which Luna took as a yes to the latter question. “I want to get started right away!”
Luna smiled softly. “Classes don’t start for another week, but there’s nothing stopping you from starting on your own research! We’ve got a lot of books on magic for you.”
“I know!” Twilight’s father nudged her with one hoof, and the filly suddenly became a little more subdued. “But, um, I-I wanted to ask you a question.” Luna gestured for her to continue with one wing, smiling still. “Now that I’m living here, closer to the castle, maybe I could… see Spike more? A-And maybe I could try looking after him myself?” She looked up at the Princess hopefully, with wide, sparkling eyes.
For a long moment, Luna thought. She had been expecting the question, given how captivated Twilight had been on every visit with the baby dragon. “I’d love it if you could, Twilight, but he’s still very little, and he needs lots of looking after. I’d hate for you to fall behind in your learning because you’re looking after him.” Twilight looked down dejectedly, and Luna felt her heart sink. “But,” The filly’s head shot back up. “I think that we could try something. How about I let you and your parents look after him for this week, before classes start, and then I’ll come and talk to you the day before classes? That way, you can see how easy he is to look after, your parents will be there to help you, and you won’t fall behind in any learning. Does that sound good?”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Twilight leaped forwards to hug Luna’s legs, and her parents cringed as though they were expecting the filly to be locked in the dungeon for that. Instead, Luna reached down to hug her back. “I’ll make sure he sleeps enough and I’ll feed him powdered gems and I’ll read to him and-” Luna just smiled as the filly went on and on, until she released her hug, and Luna straightened up again.
“I’ll have someone bring him to your room within the hour, OK?” Twilight nodded eagerly, her parents slightly less so, and Luna received several more thanks before the three walked back to the school. Glancing around, Luna saw that most ponies were gone, Gentebright leading off a group of first-years while Silver Sun grumbled to himself at her side, pulling his blanket tighter around him. “I think we’re done for today, Silver. Thank you for taking the questions.” He continued to grumble wordlessly as he stood, stretched out creaking joints, and walked back towards the school. And that left Luna with just… oh.
“Princess Luna, Pr-”
“Printing Press, Canterlot Times.” Luna finished. The pegasus stallion had a white-and-black spotted coat and mane, a clipboard and pen hanging around his neck. He was enthusiastic and tenacious, qualities Luna certainly didn’t dislike, but when paired with a tendency to ask prying questions, they created a pony she didn’t relish spending time with. Shutterbug, his photographer partner, was a much more tolerable pony, but nowhere to be seen.
“Just have a few questions for you, your majesty, things the ponies at home will want to hear.”
“Well, I’m sure I’ll be happy to answer them.” Just stay positive, Luna. Maybe they’ll be nice questions this time.
“So,” he asked around the pencil in his mouth. “Princess, how would you respond to the accusations of a significant bias towards unicorns over the other two tribes in your actions?”
Internally, Luna bristled; how dare they accuse her of such… prejudice? Externally, she applied a small, false smile. “I would respond with a request for the accusers to look at the Royal Treasury Report, where they will see that the schools in Cloudsdale, Dodge City, and Hollow Shades receive significantly more funding than this one to compensate for the fact that I spend more time physically present here. No, I will not deny that I spend most of my time at this school, because it’s where I can do the most good. I am not a flier on par with the Wonderbolts, so I cannot teach pegasi to fly, nor am I a farmer, so I cannot teach agriculture to earth ponies, nor am I a teacher at all, so I cannot teach science or mathematics or literature. What I am,” she reached up to tap her horn. “Is a mage, one of the best mages in Equestria, so I can teach unicorns magic. So yes, I do spend most of my time here, because it’s the one place that I can do the most good. Which is certainly not to say that I never teach at the other schools.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that, your majesty, I just-”
“And,” Luna added, letting a tinge of emotion creep into her voice for the first time in this conversation. “I think you meant the other three tribes.”
“What?”
“You said the other two tribes. They may not be commonplace, but thestrals are ponies, the same as all others, and I would appreciate it if you could respect that.” Yes, it was slightly personal; ever since the old days, the bat-ponies had been strong supporters of hers, but were often feared because of their unusual appearance, something that didn’t seem to change, no matter how much work she put into it. “After all, I don’t think accusations of prejudice would do the Times any good, would they?”
That got a physical reaction from Press, his cheeks burning red beneath his fur as he mumbled some non-committal apology from around his pencil, still scribbling notes on his board. “That will be all. Um, thank you for your time, your highness.”
“That’s quite alright, Press.” Luna allowed herself a little, self-satisfied smile as the pegasus flew away, before she stood and stretched out her own wings. She was alone outside of the school now, aside from the porters hauling the last of the new students’ bags. Flaring her wings, she took off towards her tower, intending to fulfil her promise to Twilight as soon as possible.
Only the youngest students lived within the School’s main building. Most lived in other buildings farther from the castle, sat alongside the sizeable manses of one of Canterlot’s richer areas, many of which were occupied by unicorn teachers. They were still watched over and cared for, of course, but Luna felt that it was appropriate for the older foals to have more experience living independently, and the little bit of trust in them to walk to school themselves was often good for building confidence. Not to mention that Canterlot was a safe enough city that they could walk that distance without worry, and the school had never been designed to house quite as many students as it did today.
But today, the last day before classes began again for the year, Luna was seeing a new student, so she walked through the skinny corridors of the school’s dormitories, smiling through open doors at new students and their parents. The bedrooms weren’t small, but became rather cosy with the addition of a foal’s parents, she had to admit. Next year, they’d offer guest rooms in the castle, or nearby hotels, she concluded. But she came to the door she wanted, marked with a cutie mark of a pinkish star, and knocked with one forehoof even though it was already open.
“Good afternoon, Twilight.” She smiled brightly, taking in the scene. Not only were the provided bookshelves already stuffed, more books lay in stacks beneath the bed and around the base of the shelves. The room was especially cramped, with a crib set up in one corner, and a double mattress set up on the floor, leaving little space for anything else. Twilight’s parents were both sitting on the bed, and the younger unicorn sat on the mattress beside the baby dragon, babbling in a friendly way.
“Princess Luna!” Twilight perked her ears up.
“How have you and Spike got on, hm?”
Twilight’s ears drooped when she said that. “He… He needs a lot of looking after.”
Luna nodded, sagely and sympathetic. She’d been certain that would be the conclusion. “It’s alright, Twilight. That’s why we did this little test, isn’t it? I’ll look after him back at the castle again, you can come and visit whenever you like, and maybe we can try again when he’s a bit older.” She took a step closer, clearly seeing that Twilight was taking it hard. “Don’t worry, little one. You haven't failed.”
“I know.” She sniffed. “I just wish I could look after him all the time.”
Luna edged more into the room, close enough to put a wing around the filly supportively. “Well, one day, you will. I certainly don’t plan on keeping him forever. You’re too young to be a mama, but I think you’re a very good big sister.”
From the corner of her eye, Luna saw the older unicorns perk up, and lean in to whisper to each other. She chose to ignore them, and watched as Spike crawled closer to Twilight, pawing at Luna’s wing with a claw.
“If it’s not…” Twilight Velvet began, before trailing off, clearly uncomfortable with addressing her ruler. “Well, if I may ask, Princess Luna, do you think it would be more appropriate for us to look after Spike? I’m sure that you have many duties to attend to other than caring for him, and I like to think that we’ve made a good job of raising two children, and if Twily’s his sister, well…”
Luna mulled it over for a moment. It was true, she couldn’t give Spike all of the attention he deserved, but that was why the castle had servants. Still, a normal home, consistent caregivers, that would be good for his development, if dragons matured at all like ponies. Twilight would easily be able to visit him almost whenever she wanted - the family’s home was perhaps half an hour away on hoof and, even though the castle was as close, gaining access was more complicated than going home for the evening. Luna wanted Twilight to care for Spike, so if they shared parent figures…
“If you believe that you can look after him, I think that would be a wonderful idea.” Twilight leaped almost straight up out of Luna’s embrace, dashing over to hold her mother and babble thanks. Luna turned to address the father, and her smile dropped, just a fraction. “It’s different to raising a foal.” She said in a low voice. “He has sharp claws, he breathes fire, and he eats gemstones. I will be happy to provide whatever help you need, but I will not be happy if you are harmed. Am I clear?”
Slowly, Night Light nodded, and allowed himself a chuckle. “We raised that little one, we’re used to fires around the house. We’ll get by.”
“And in case you don’t, I’ll assign someone to check up on you regularly.” She then smiled wide again as Twilight ran back to her.
“Thank you, Princess Luna! I want Spike to be my little brother!”
“And he will, little one, he will.” Luna ruffled her mane with one forehoof. Spike had crawled right down to her hooves, and was gazing, wide-eyed at her face. Or just above it. “You know, I think he wants to eat my tiara.” They shared a laugh, before Luna raised the little dragon up to her face. Yes, he definitely wanted the sapphires in her tiara. “I suppose you’ll be going away for now, little one. I’ll miss your silly little face.”
“You can always come and visit!”
“Thank you, Twilight.” She handed the dragon back to the filly. “I’ll send somepony to help you pack his things up, and get a care package ready for him. But for now, I must go, I’ve always got things to do.” She bowed to them, and ducked under the doorway to leave the new family, chattering and happy, knowing that this would be the best for little Spike.
Luna lounged back on her bed, smiling contentedly to herself. Her back was against the alicorn-sized mattress, wings and all four limbs splayed out like a demented starfish, smiling at the upside-down wall. It was dotted with ladders, boxes, and wooden bridges, a playground for her beloved pet, Tiberius. The School for Gifted Unicorns had just finished its first week back, and relatively pleasantly at that; there had only been five uncontrolled magical fires (the Canterlot Volunteer Fire department had set up a station within a minute of the School some time ago), seven magical fights, twelve broken window panes from uncontrolled levitation, and three accidental transfigurations of a student or member of staff (two of which were from young Twilight), all well within acceptable numbers for the first week of teaching. So, tonight, at close to midnight, Luna was content to relax.
“Tiberius.” She said in a sing-song voice, and watched the movement within his preferred nest box. “Tibble-kins. My little tibby-too!” She watched the possum, upside down, poke his white face out of the box and look down (or, from her perspective, up) at her. “Mama’s got time for you, smoochy-doop!” Her pet names always got sillier and sillier as time went on, but Tiberius knew that particular tone was referring to him, so he clambered down a chunky, wooden ladder, reaching out to touch the bottom of her snout with a ticklish, pink paw. “That’s my baby boy.” She smiled contentedly as he climbed onto the bed beside her, grunting and squeaking.
She lay like that for a long while, almost meditating, in calm and peace, eyes closed, thinking pleasant nothings and feeling Tiberius explore the sheets at her side, rubbing against her flank as he probed in the soft darkness. In the room below her bedroom, she heard the ancient clock wind, and then strike midnight. The time Luna loved the most, when her night was at its deepest and most divine. Inhaling deeply, she let her horn begin to glow softly, building magic for an ancient, unique spell.
Then she exhaled, and she was dreaming.
And she could see, like a group of stars filling a landscape below her, everypony else who dreamed in Equestria. When she focused on each mote of light, she could sense the dreams within, and knew that, with a little more will, she could enter them, become a player in the dreamer’s mind. But, long ago, she had promised not to interfere in pleasant dreams, so she searched for the nightmares. They were easy to find, overactive stars, boiling instead of twinkling. The first she picked was that of a filly in Manehattan - geography in the dreamscape was abstract, to say the least, but Luna understood it like the back of her hoof. So focusing deeply on the star, she willed herself forwards, and the dream changed.
“Please, stop it! I’m frightened!” The filly shouted, and Luna took in the scene. Flying saucers, purple and green like those in picture books, were descending from the night sky, lifting ponies up from the streets in beams of greenish light, and firing laser beams that set fires on the city’s skyscrapers. “I want my daddy back!”
“Don’t worry, little one.” Luna put a gentle hoof on the filly’s head, and she blinked up with tearful eyes. “We can stop this together, can’t we?” Smiling, Luna subtly shifted the dream, putting out fires, quelling fear.
“Princess Luna!” The filly leaped up, flapping her young wings quickly. “Are you going to help me stop them?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
They spent minutes (in the dream, barely a second in truth) flying around the sky, bucking and hitting with hooves and blasts of magic to turn the flying saucers into bursts of fireworks and sending the captured ponies drifting gently back to the streets. The filly giggled and shouted gleefully as she became the hero in this nightmarish little story, and flapped back to the ground as the last flying saucers dropped their abductees and fled back into the sky, embracing a stallion with the same pelt as her.
“Thank you, Princess Luna!”
“It’s my pleasure, little one.” Luna briefly embraced the filly with her wings, before gently, playfully tapping her snout with one hoof. “And if you ever have another nightmare, I’ll be here to keep you safe.”
Luna let herself fade from the dream, and spent what felt like hours jumping between nightmares. She saved a filly in Cloudsdale from a dream of seemingly-endless falling, comforted a filly in Dodge City who was spending her first night away from her parents and dreamed they would never return. A colt in Baltimare was saved from nightmarish gryphon foalnappers, a filly in Vanhoover was assured that she’d get her cutie mark soon, and there was nothing wrong with it coming in late. And last, after countless more little nightmares were solved, she spent a long while talking to a lonely colt in hospital in Tall Tale, promising him that he’d be well again. Mentally, when she finally left him sleeping soundly, she made a note to send a gift to the hospital, and she prepared to awaken herself.
Then, she saw a flicker in another dream. One close to the castle, at the School. It barely flickered, not as though it was a small nightmare, but as though it was being hidden from the Princess. Concerned and confused, Luna focused on the dream and let herself fall into it.
“Twilight can’t do magic!” A chorus of foals jeered. “Twilight can’t do magic!”
“That’s not true! I can! My special talent’s in magic!”
“Twilight can’t do magic!”
“Twilight Sparkle?” With an effort of concentrated will, Luna silenced the jeering. Twilight sat, head down and ears flat, in the centre of a classroom with no door, surrounded by desks filled with now-stationary foals. The purple filly looked up at the Princess, and the floodgates broke, and her tearful face exploded into sobbing. “Oh Twilight.” Luna took a step closer, extending her wings to embrace the little unicorn. For a second, Twilight pulled away from her, before surrendering and allowing herself to weep into Luna’s fur. Stroking her mane in a comforting way, Luna focused her magic to dismantle the dreamscape, replacing it with a quiet, expansive library, dotted with comfortable couches and gentle lanterns. “Twilight, whatever is wrong?” She asked once the sobs began to subside.
“I… I…” She mumbled tearfully. “I missed my lessons! And then you were angry with me and said you were disappointed and I didn’t deserve to be at the School and they sent me away and-”
“Hold on.” Twilight was close to crying again. “That didn’t happen. Now, what classes did you miss?”
“T-Today. I missed half of science class, b-because mummy and daddy needed my help wi-with Spike and- and- and now you’re going to be angry and you’re going to kick me out of the School and I’ll-”
“That is not going to happen, you silly filly.” Luna assured, shushing Twilight’s sniffling. “You’re not getting expelled for missing half of a lesson. Understand?”
“You’re,” Twilight sniffed, looking up. “You’re not going to kick me out?”
“No, you silly, silly thing.” Luna hugged her a little tighter.
“You’re not angry?”
“Not at all.” A moment’s silence while Twilight cried the very last of her tears. “Is Spike OK?” Twilight nodded. “Good. No more silly nightmares about that, yes?”
“Yes, Princess.”
“And in the morning, I’ll come to speak with you before you go home for the weekend, alright? Not because you’re in trouble, but just because I want to talk about this with you, OK?”
“OK, Princess.” Twilight had finally noticed the library around her, and a smile crept back onto her face. “Wow, thank you, Princess.”
“Now, you have sweet dreams for the rest of the night. And I’ll see you in the morning.”
Flicking between the sheets of paper, Luna double-checked the preliminary testing scores. In every subject, the test marks were high. In a couple (literature and magical theory) they were the highest that any first-year student had achieved, ever. And the comments from the teachers, they told their own story. Incredible potential. Unrivalled magical strength. Intelligent and dedicated. A fine example of a young mage. Nodding, Luna affirmed the thought in her mind, sending the papers teleporting back to her desk in a flash of deep blue. She raised one hoof, and rapped neatly on the door, just below the nameplate.
“C-Come in.” Someone squeaked, and Luna gently pushed the door open. Twilight’s room was dominated by books, textbooks and novels, spilling off the normally ample bookshelves of the School’s rooms. “Hello, Princess Luna.” Twilight herself sat on the bed, clutching a button-eyed, string-maned pony to her chest. Her eyes were red and her cheeks stained from crying.
“Who’s that?” Luna asked as she shut the door behind her and sat down on the rug, still having to lower her head to meet Twilight’s eyes.
“Smarty Pants.” Twilight mumbled, hugging the toy closer. “She helps me with my homework.”
“Well, hello there, Smarty Pants.” Luna sat in silence for a few seconds, knowing that Twilight would talk when she was ready.
“Princess? Um, in the dream last night, when you said that you weren’t angry… are you still not angry?”
Luna hesitated for a moment. No, honesty was necessary here. “I’m a little bit upset, Twilight. Not because you had to miss class, but because you didn’t tell anybody. Poor Miss Coil was worried sick when you weren’t at her class, she wondered if you’d got lost, or if you were poorly.” Twilight sniffed, and Luna raised a hoof to softly touch her cheek. “We want to look after all our students here, and we get worried if we can’t. I’d like it if you’d apologise to her before you go home for the weekend. Would you do that for me?”
“Yes, Princess.” She squeaked, hugging her toy so tightly Luna worried that those button eyes might come off.
“Thank you, Twilight.”
“I didn’t want anyone to worry.” She sniffed. “I just didn’t want to get in trouble for not being able to go.”
“You aren’t in trouble at all, Twilight, not at all. And you’ll never get in trouble for missing one lesson, as long as you tell us.” The filly was getting herself worked up again, on the verge of crying. “May I see Smarty Pants?” Twilight looked surprised at the sudden change in subject, and loosened her grip so that Luna could take the toy in her magic. A sweet, handmade little thing, with blue-and-white spotted pants. “Hello there, Princess Luna.” She said in a silly voice while moving the doll, making Twilight giggle. “Do you think we should tell her the other thing that you wanted to ask her?” Luna returned Smarty Pants to the confused-looking Twilight, reverting to her usual voice as she spoke again. “Yes, Miss Pants, I think we should.”
“What other thing?” Twilight asked, her upset fading quickly.
“Well, I’ve been looking at your tests and the notes from your teachers. And I’m very, very impressed. Even though you missed half of the test time for your science test, you were still the third best in the class! And you’ve got some of the strongest magic I’ve ever seen on top of that.”
“I like to learn things.”
“And I want you to learn lots of things. I think that you could be one of the cleverest unicorns ever.”
“As clever as Starswirl the Bearded?”
Starswirl, the stallion who’d tutored the royal sisters when they were only foals. Forgotten by most, but of course this genius little filly knew of him. “Maybe even that clever, Twilight. So, to make sure that you can learn as much as possible, I wanted to ask if you’d like to be my personal student.”
In the almost-thousand years that Luna had been the sole ruler of Equestria, she had personally tutored five unicorns in the magical arts, and each of them had a permanent place in her heart. First, barely a century after she had first raised the sun, had been Starbright Moonlight. The stallion had quite simply pestered her into teaching him, and snapped her out of a long depression in the process. Then later, spaced over the centuries, had been Blossomer, Rarelast, and Star Eyes. Most recently had been Sunset Shimmer, who had ended her tutelage only a couple of years earlier. She had since gone off to Zebrica to study zebra shamanistic magic, and still kept in regular contact with Luna.
In truth, being Luna’s personal student involved a lot more than just learning magic from arguably the greatest mage alive; she taught them to be advisors, regents, councillors, essentially to act as substitutes for Luna when she needed to be in more than one place at once. Once they were older, they were taught politics, philosophy, many of the things that made a great ruler, and became friends and confidants to Luna. And sometimes, even in peaceful Equestria, there were many problems that required an alicorn’s attention, and she couldn’t send a second alicorn. But she could send the next best thing.
Sometimes, Luna wondered if her attachment to her students was an attempt to fill a strange hole, to have another sibling, or a child that she never would have otherwise. But she had decided, after much internal debate, that it was irrelevant. Luna was allowed to have family, even family that didn’t share her blood, wasn’t she?
Suddenly, she realised that she had been thinking to herself for a long while, and snapped back to reality. Twilight was staring, wide-eyed and open-mouthed in amazement. “It’ll come with lots of responsibilities, but I know a clever filly like you will be able to handle them. And we can be much more flexible with your lessons, so you’ll be able to go home and look after Spike a lot more often.” Twilight was still staring. “You don’t have to make up your mind right away. Go home for the weekend and talk to your family about it.”
“Yes!” Twilight leaped straight off the bed, wrapping her forelegs around Luna’s neck. Luna gasped as the wind was knocked out of her and she tipped backwards onto the floor. Once she inhaled again, she began to laugh as Twilight nuzzled her, chanting yeses and thank yous.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve accepted.” Luna nuzzled Twilight back, lifting her so the Princess could sit up again, still winded and surprised from the attack of affection. “Why don’t you get Smarty Pants, and I’ll fly you home for the weekend? Then me and your parents can sort everything out.”
Luna watched with a smile as Twilight, full of energy, dashed back and forth, picking up books and chattering to Smarty Pants. Luna knew, just looking at the filly, that she’d made the right choice, and the pair of them would achieve a lot together.