Princess Cadence came to the breakfast table later than usual. She’d been having trouble sleeping lately, due to the usual array of impending disasters threatening the safety of her family and country. Still, she greeted her guards with all the decorum expected of her, and made her way in.
Shining Armour, it seemed, was busy giving their daughter some lessons.
“Power Word: Munch!”
She chuckled when she heard Shining Armour call out like he was casting a spell before feeding Flurry Heart. As she came into the room, mane carefully tended to with magic and coat brushed as protocol demanded (she still insisted on her personal hygiene being personal), she heard her daughter eating and gurgling down breakfast.
“And Power Word: Gulp!” Shining said.
Right on cue, Flurry Heart scoffed down a bite of mashed bananas and mango, a suggestion from the bat pony tribe further up north, or their ambassador, at least.
Cadence kissed her husband on the forehead and sat down opposite to him, her back to the entrance. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” he greeted. “You like our little practice run here?”
She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Shining, if we’re going to teach Power Words already, we should start with the real ones, like Power Word: Pain or Power Word: Shatter. You know Twilight would never forgive us if we let Flurry Heart learn magic wrong.” After pouring herself a full cup of tea, Cadence took a slice of toast in her magic and smeared some lemon jam on it.
Today felt like it was going to be a lemon jam toast day.
“Well, it’s either that or have her first word blow up the country,” Shining argued. “I’m not taking any chances, even if I have to deal with Twily afterward.”
“Of course. Speaking of taking no chances, have you taken your medicine yet?”
“I have.” He gagged. “And it tasted as bad as it always did. But it’s fine. I can think clearly now. No goose incidents today unless I get hit on the head really hard.”
Cadence took a bite of toast. The sour taste of the jam always helped her wake up on days like these, and the crystal berry tea kept her calm without impeding her thinking, which was always a good thing. “Very funny. You know you shouldn’t take any head trauma, the doctor said so. It’s bad enough no one noticed the damage for so long.”
“Well, you did, didn’t you?” he argued.
“Only after the geese, sweetie.”
“Aww, you have to admit, Twily did have to jump through some hoops to counter it.” He grinned at his daughter, before feeding her another spoonful of mash. “Otherwise Aunty Twily would have gotten a Power Word: Honk, huh?”
Flurry Heart giggled and gurgled in agreement, making a royal mess with her mouth full.
“I think Power Word: Clean would be more appropriate,” Cadence remarked. “Come on.”
Right as she went to cast a minor cleaning spell, the guards let a guest through. “What’s this I’m hearing about Power Words now?”
“Good morning, Sunburst,” Cadence greeted. She cleaned up her daughter with some magic, said daughter then laughed excitedly at the sound of her teacher’s voice, and the whole process was revealed to be an exercise in futility.
The piece of toast quickly disappeared between Cadence’s teeth. The teacup was drained in one big swig, then refilled.
She took another pair of slices.
Today was definitely going to be a lemon jam toast day.
Shining Armour noticed. “Our royal tutors will be arriving today for a crash course. So I thought we might as well get some practice in nice and early. Flurry Heart seems to be enjoying herself.”
Sunburst scratched his messy mane. “Really? That was today?”
“You didn’t know?” Shining furrowed his brow, not missing a beat with the spoon even as his white coat was becoming speckled and sticky from his daughter’s laughing fits. “We must have mentioned it, right? Didn’t we send letters?”
Cadence nodded. “They’ve rescheduled twice now because of our doctor’s appointments, we definitely sent a letter.”
“Oh, I believe you, must have gotten lost in the mail. And you’ll be working on Power Words? Are you sure that’s a good idea? The advanced ones are pretty, well, advanced.”
Cadence looked over at Flurry Heart, and gestured to Shining to clean up. His prestidigitation was still rusty, so she did it for him before he could embarrass himself. “It is advanced, but then we are supposed to be advanced ponies, aren’t we, Shining?”
“That’s right. We know all about arcane focus and mental intonation and vibration theory, don’t we, Flurry?” To illustrate, Shining blew a raspberry on Flurry’s belly, and the resulting giggles then caused her to almost lift up the whole table in her magic.
“It’s the easiest thing to work on for us,” Cadence explained, still working down the much-needed toast. She dispelled her daughter’s levitation spell with a loving, but stern thought. “No need to learn new spells, no complicated mechanics, just work on what we know already: find a concept, concentrate it into a word, then cast out the word. Primitive, powerful, hard to predict and hard to counter if you know what you’re doing. Nice and quick, good for beginners and dangerous for the advanced.”
Sunburst nodded. “You’ve been talking to Twilight about this, I presume?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Sunburst, I know that branch of magic is a sore subject for you, but-”
“Oh, don’t be sorry, it’s fine.” He waved the remark away. “I’ve always been a little too scattered to use that type of magic, but I prefer the mental locus method, anyway, makes it easier to remember everything. So that means Flurry Heart will be with me today? And where will you be?”
“I will be down in Sombra’s old padded room, taking lessons from Master Cold Shoulder.”
She shot him a glare at that.
“And I will be wearing a helmet, obviously,” Shining added.
She kept glaring until he buckled.
“The good helmet, I promise.”
Finally, she relented. “Good. That’s all I wanted to hear.”
Sunburst shuddered. “Wow, Cold Shoulder? I’ve heard of him. He’s not a popular teacher, but a very strong wizard in close quarters. Evocation specialist, if I recall, a powerful ekriximancer, too.”
Shining Armour shrugged, continuing to feed spoonfuls of fruit mash to Flurry Heart until she had her fill. “Doesn’t matter how strong he is. If all he can do is give me cricks in the back, it’ll be a nice workout.”
Sunburst and Cadence exchanged a glance.
“I should probably tell him,” Sunburst whispered.
“Don’t you dare tell him,” Cadence hissed. “He’s sensitive enough as it is about his languages.”
“What was that?” Shining Armour looked up.
“I was just saying I’ll be taking lessons from the EEA’s master abjurer,” Cadence replied.
Sunburst had a look on his face he usually reserved for when Flurry Heart was feeling particularly creative with her levitation spells. “More shield magic? Isn’t that your strong suit already?”
“That’s what I thought, but that’s what they’re sending. Apparently the pony in charge of that likes their power words, too, so it’s a good match.”
“Power words and abjuration. Huh, that almost sounds like master Merlon. Good luck to you, too, then.”
“Merlin? I’m pretty sure we’re not allowed to drop that name around here, are we Flurry Heart? No, because that’s when the Dizzy Studios lawyers come in, and we can’t afford those in our little Empire.” Shining proceeded to make baby noises that made Cadence wonder if he really had taken his medication that morning, or whether said medication was doing its job.
“Not Mer-lin; Mer-lon, like the ones on castle walls,” Cadence said. “He’s a specialist in shielding magic, and he’s got good language skills, so his power words are… varied, or so I’m told. Why, is he a problem?”
“Oh, no, not a problem, far from it.” Sunburst shook his head. “It’s just that Merlon tends to be really, umm, focused, when he’s teaching. No emotion to him, never looks like he’s enjoying himself, which I guess comes with the whole Power Word thing anyway. Plus, the accent can be a bit distracting. Verbal magic gets tricky with multi-lingual ponies.”
Cadence chuckled. “Je devrai traverser ce pont quand je le rencontre, non?”
Sunburst nodded. “Hmm, right: diplomat.”
“It’s easy to forget Cadence has had her own training, huh?” Shining said with a grin.
“I try not to flaunt too much: I am a married mare, after all.” Cadence kissed Shining Armour on the cheek, then Flurry Heart on the forehead. “Be good, Flurry. Mommy won’t be too long.” She spread her wings and walked out to the balcony, ready to fly off. “Oh, and Sunburst?”
“Yes?”
“We were double booked for our session. There will be some changelings in the Empire today, but they’ll mostly be here taking lessons with us, so you don’t need to worry.”
“Ah. Good to know. I really need to clean up my mail pile. Kind of weird that we’re training changelings now, though.”
“They need to get their defenses up, too, and we are both relatively new nations. I want them to know we have some strength under our hooves.”
With that, she took off.
The arena Cadence landed by was one of many such buildings in the Empire, constructed back in the day to let every Crystal pony partake in those important games that solidified their sense of identity and, in turn, helped charge the Crystal Heart.
It was a smaller one, though, one for the local neighbourhood teams to practise in, rather than the massive affairs that housed the Equestria Games. The rings for the anti-air magic practice had been taken down, but the roof was still in a raised position, letting a good amount of light in while avoiding any direct sun. Still, it felt strange to see the place so deserted. There wasn’t even a ring of spectator seats here, only a set of wooden bleachers on one side of the track.
Said track was getting uglied up by a giant greenish mole creature of some description. Its massive claws swiped at the ground, and Cadence almost thought she’d taken a wrong turn somewhere, but the mole’s opponent quickly appeared when one of the wild swings landed a hit.
Or rather, the shield around the opponent took a hit. Cadence recognised the pattern: a standard tortoise shell defence, made of green energy, a fine choice against piercing and bladed attacks. The shape of it, she’d been taught, made it easy to form only one of its sides in the mind and let the rest flow from that, making it less strenuous on the user than a large hemisphere would. Aside from that, the natural design made it easy for claws and teeth to skim over rather than penetrate.
She’d never seen a Unicorn combine that with a cloaking spell, though.
“Ah, la taupe,” the stallion said. “She cannot find me with her nose, non, but she still has the, how you say, sense of the shakes, hein?”
Shields and an accent, definitely Master Merlon.
The mole thing slammed the backs of its claws onto the shield, and the impact did force the edges of it into the ground, but the stallion himself was unaffected.
Cadence furrowed her brow.
Can’t that thing just go underground and lift the shield up?
No sooner had the thought formed, and the mole tried that very tactic. But Merlon was quick with his spells, and cast a chain of energy around the thing once it had its claws under the shell. More chains appeared, and the mole was dragged off until it wrapped itself in green flames.
The manticore that leaped out moved in a blur, biting and clawing at a different shield this time, a more pearlescent one.
Merlon turned and nodded at Cadence. “Ah, our other student, she has arrived. Fini!”
He stomped his hoof on the ground, and a wave of thunderous energy erupted around him. The manticore landed on its back and skidded over the ground, before another wave of green flame revealed it to be a changeling.
It was a larger changeling than most of the ones Cadence had seen so far, still smaller than Thorax in his new form. This one had antlers, like the King, but his coat was a darker, almost military green. Other than that, he looked as regal as a changeling could.
“Bien joué, monsieur,” Merlon said. “Your physical condition, she is very good. Your stamina, most impressionant, your choice of forms, excellent, you would be the envy of shamans and druids everywhere. But, even so, we may ‘ave to work on ranged defense. Too many shots your way and the fight, it would not end in your favour.”
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” Cadence said as she walked onto the field. The grounds-keeper would have a fit if he saw this, but she guessed the grandmaster in arcane magic would likely know how to clean up after himself.
“Pas du tout,” the Unicorn replied. “We were merely doing the warming-up and getting to know each other. I am, of course, Master Merlon, the EEA Head of Abjuration Studies and Defense of a Magical Nature.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Princess Cadence, though I assume the crown was a bit of a giveaway,” she joked, before turning to the changeling. “And you must be Thorax’s brother. Pharynx, right? I don’t think we ever met, officially.” She extended a hoof.
He shook it, briefly. “Yeah, that’s me. My name’s Pharynx. And no, we never met, but I do remember you: we captured you a while ago.”
“Twice, actually.”
“I was only involved in the one time we kidnapped you. Guard duty and all, I never got out much.”
She regarded him for a moment. In his natural form, he looked a bit buff for his species, while the antlers gave him a somewhat regal look, but they weren’t so big that they looked clumsy or ostentatious. Her instincts and powers as Princess of Love kicked in, and she quickly assessed this was a fairly typical gruff military type of a guy. Such characters had great difficulty finding love, but when love did find them, it was usually in the form of a very supportive and dependable partner, one they could relax around.
Of course, not knowing any changelings to make matches with, her powers of romantic deduction quickly hit a dead end before she could ponder further what sort of family a changeling like him might found. “Hmm, pity.”
Master Merlon was quite the opposite: a blue-eyed lanky fellow, even by Unicorn standards. His coat colour was, to put it mildly, brickish grey, while his burgundy mane and tail were both cut short, but wide, almost resembling a bird’s tail in terms of volume. A quick glance confirmed that the good master did not, however, shave his neck, so he ended up having an arrow effect going with his manestyle. In all, he struck her as the typical eccentric stallion who cared little for the opinions of others, an evolutionary dead end in terms of romance barring some exceptionally strange mares. He was older than her, too, slightly younger than Chancellor Neighsay, which would further complicate finding romance.
Then again, Shining Armour had managed to get married, and he’d been quite eccentric in his time, as she recalled, so perhaps Merlon’s matchmaking potential fell more into ‘challenging’ territory rather than ‘lost cause.’
If Merlon noticed her pondering, he did not show it. “I have already tested the mettle of Prince Pharynx here, would you care to make a petite, ah, demonstration of your own?”
“Of course. Just the verbal focus?”
“It will be the easiest to work on, and elucidate the matter for our changeling friend here.”
Pharynx snorted.
“Okay, then. Standard spellcasting with a Power Word as the focus. I’ll call it out loud, for the demonstration.”
“What she means by that is: even though she may call out a simple term like ‘Block’ or ‘Bouclier,’ the spell she is casting is more complicated. It’s just that the word gives the spell more power and, how you say, texture. Princess Cadence, she is classically trained, so she knows how to hold her own in a fight,” Merlon explained.
Pharynx grinned. “I look forward to seeing that.”
Cadence smiled and relaxed, the better to let her magic flow. A warm feeling of love filled her, and her mind brought forth images that made her happy: Flurry Heart’s giggling, Shining Armour’s warm embrace, the sense of victory of completing a crossword puzzle.
Positive energy was her strong suit in all areas of life, and her magic was no different.
“Blast!” She cried out, sending forth a blue orb of energy that detonated in the air.
Merlon nodded in appreciation. “Ah, the Mistmane’s Blue Comet, bonne choix.”
Cadence reached within again and closed her eyes. “Shield!” Her reddish purple barrier came up in an instant, and the sound of Merlon murmuring became muffled.
“Hmm, the Royal Flame shield spell of the Canterlot guard. A bit standard, but a sound strategic choice.”
“How’s that?” Pharynx asked.
“Ah, it is a spell that does not require constant concentration, mon ami,” Merlon explained. “It is simply tossed up, and it stays up even if the one casting it is, ah, incapacitated. It only requires a recharging periodically. As such, it is very useful for protecting oneself in, say, a hostage situation, or a long-term battle of attrition. It is, as I recall, your husband’s speciality, non?”
“It is,” she replied. “It took a lot out of him when he protected Canterlot with it.”
“And it took a lot out of you when you protected your Empire, I imagine. Bon, and your choice of elemental spells?”
“Thunder.” She stomped a hoof on the ground, and a wave of force erupted from the impact, the wind blowing back what grass hadn’t been uprooted yet.
The master and prince took a step back.
“That’s not a bad trick,” Pharynx said. “If the enemy gets too close, you throw your shield up, and you can create some room with a thunderwave like that.”
“Indeed,” Merlon added. “Le tonnerre, he is a good complement to your skills. Strategically, I would not think to lecture you. So, since we will be focusing on tactical abjuration today, princesse, would you be so kind as to raise your shield again?”
She nodded and again tapped into her reserves of positive love energy. Memories of soft beds, gentle lullabies, and tasty breakfasts filled her consciousness. Beyond that, the shield spell of the Royal Guard, itself a royal purple, of course, was easy enough to cast.
One small power word to form the focus, and it was up. “Shield.”
Merlon gestured with his hoof, and a black rock formed in the air. He reared up and gave it solid punch to launch it at her shield.
The conjured rock impacted harmlessly on her defences.
Then it kept going.
Slowly, but surely, the rock kept on pushing unaided, and an acidic energy ate away at her shield. Cadence quickly tried to summon more energy: Hearts and Hooves days, weddings, harvest festivals.
The rock knocked against her chest.
Pharynx arched an eyebrow. “What kind of attack was that?”
“A simple conjuration, not something beginners can do but the intermediate students tend to master at some point or another,” Merlon replied.
Cadence rubbed her chest. Her heart was pounding, her breath quickened. “Right. That was the same thing Tempest used. Didn’t think anypony else knew that one, actually.”
Merlon smiled, mirthlessly this time, clearly out politeness and nothing else. “It is something to keep in mind, Princess: those who know of your power will know of your weaknesses, too. Encore une. Try a different defence this time.”
She quickly banished the bad thoughts from her mind and went back into her happy space. This time, she decided to try memories of holidays at the coast: the feeling of sand under her hooves, the wind in her wings. She was a Pegasus originally, after all, and the love of wind and water still ran deep.
“Pearl.”
This shield was not a standard-issue one. It was a clear milky white, pearlescent in material. This was Storm Eye’s Pearl of Protection, something Twilight had shown her once.
This shield was obscure, ancient, unstudied and, above all: non-reactive. It would surely stand up to an acidic attack.
Merlon tilted his head, curious. Then his horn lit up, and he shot out a spiralling drill beam. When it hit, it filled Cadence’s head with the sound of whining and grinding pain.
Her pearl popped like a bubble.
Her horn crackled from the feedback. She rubbed her forehead. “Umm… okay, that’s a new one, too.”
“Your shield was not new, I can see that much. It should be able to withstand such a drill, if cast properly. Encore une attaque, Princesse,” Merlon called out. “Try to concentrate.”
Think, Cadence, think. You’re strong enough to do this.
No happy memories came this time. She forced herself to keep her thoughts positive, to stay in that happy state where she had power. From there, she could power her next spell.
Mirror Fragment. One shard of that can block anything.
“Wall!”
Merlon snorted when he saw the flat silver mirror go up. “Not the word I would choose. I always prefer to use ‘miroir’ for that one: it has more meaning to it.”
This time, Merlon lit up his horn and let loose a barrage of arcane missiles. Cadence had to shift her shield to block some of them, but block them she did.
“Still, it is technically sound,” Merlon added. “A bit shaky against a higher-level spell, but powerful enough to get passing grades in the Guard.”
Cadence afforded herself a relieved smile.
Then she got slapped in the back of the head. She stumbled forward, her crown almost fell off.
The disappointment on the master’s face said it all.
Right. That one only covers the front, gotta watch out for curved attacks.
“Are you in order, Princess?” Merlon asked.
She rubbed the back of her head. She hadn’t even noticed that blow had made her drop her barrier. “I’m fine. For a specialist in defense, you sure know a lot of attacks, Master Merlon.”
“And this surprises you? I am a grandmaster, after all. My specialisation does not mean I am lacking in other areas. I am classically trained, as I presumed you were as well. Then again, it has been some time that you have been in a normal, fair fight, it would be natural to be somewhat, ah, rouillée. In all cases, we will have a lot of work to do with you, it seems.”
Cadence sighed. “Not to worry. I’m sure a little practice is all I need.”
At least Shining Armour is doing well. I hope he keeps his helmet on.
Shining Armour noticed he had a little crick in his back. He gently floated in the air, covered in protective energy, and decided to try and land on the field.
Like bouncing on a trampoline, he found himself flying again. All was quiet, he still had his helmet on, he was still protected by his shield.
With a hop and a skip, he was on the ground on all fours for a split second before flying again.
His training partner, Thorax, was decidedly less calm about the situation, flitting about anxiously and desperately trying to reason with Master Cold Shoulder.
After another gentle landing, Shining finally managed to get the crick in his back to go away.
“Ah, much better.”
His relief was short-lived, though, and he went flying in his magic again soon after.
He pondered his situation as he floated, idly checking his helmet, that his wife insisted he keep on. He thought that perhaps he really ought to read a little more, and resolved to finally start checking that encyclopaedia Twily had gotten him for his birthday two months ago.
He promised himself he would do more research on the wide and wonderful variety of Equestrian magics, possibly with some recommendations by the EEA, and perhaps to set up an education program to help get the Crystal Empire up to date.
Mostly, though, he planned to have some words with his wife and with Sunburst about the need to explain certain words to him, or at least certain prefixes. It’s not like he didn’t know any of them.
I know my old languages just fine. Pyro- means ‘fire,' hydro- means ‘water.’ Easy.
Cryo- is a fun one, too; that means ‘ice.’
The very first clarification he would ask would be that if a prefix like ‘ekrixi-’ does not, in fact, mean something harmless, it’s probably best to tell him in advance.
Ekrixi- means ‘explosion.’
He landed again, and Master Cold Shoulder blasted him up into the air again with the regularity of clockwork. Shining’s version of Magnus’ Golden Shield of Invincibility remained intact, he had his Feather Fall spell well in order, but all in all he preferred the trampoline over the EEA Demolition Special.
Cold Shoulder was shouting something at him.
Shining guessed it was something along the lines of ‘Stop playing around and fight me,’ but he couldn’t be sure while the bombs were still flying. Thanks to Flurry Heart, Shining Armour already drank anti-tinnitus tinctures the way most ponies drank their morning tea, he was not about to drop his protection and require a double dose.
Cadence would never let him hear the end of it, even if the damage to his eardrums might.
At least I’ve got some time to think. I wonder how Cadence is doing.
Cadence panted. Her happy memories were starting to falter, but, she reminded herself, that’s exactly what the Power Words were for. She didn’t need to sink too deep into an emotional high if she could simply keep her focus.
Master Merlon didn’t seem to need either. Pharynx kept on ramming and stabbing at his shields, in giant wasp form one moment only to shift into a manticore the next, then trying to lift him off the ground in Bugbear form, it was a sight to behold.
The master abjurer, true to his title, had no trouble keeping the changeling at bay.
Cadence, however, couldn’t block a single attack from the master, even when he was so pressed.
She raised up a purple shield, it was eaten through by another rock.
She tried the pearly barrier, he popped it without so much as needing to glance her way.
Tortoise shell, steel plough defence, a wall of blades, he pierced through all of it while fending off attacks from a changeling Prince.
She was starting to get to the end of her rope.
How is he not tired? He’s beating both of us, and he’s not even sweating.
She tried a blue repulsor bubble, and he blew it clean off of her with a gesture of his hooves.
Merlon grunted. “Let us pause the aggressions for a moment. Princess Cadence, you have not blocked a single one of my attacks successfully. I am beginning to get worried. Are you ill?”
“No,” Cadence replied. “I don’t think so, at least. Tired from all the magic, but that shouldn’t matter for this.”
“Curious. What Power Words do you use to fuel your shields? Call them out as I attack. Disintegration.”
She tried the Royal Flame barrier again. “Shield!”
It was no use. The beam caused her barrier to turn grey at the point of impact, and it crumbled around her.
Undeterred, she conjured up a wall of solid crystal around her. “Ward!”
Merlon shook his head. “Boule de force.”
She barely dodged the cannonball that shattered her crystals. Shards landed in her already frazzled mane, but they dissolved back into the ether before she could shake them out.
Come on, Cadence, you’re better than this. You know what to do.
A simpler shield spell was her last resort: Meadowbrook’s Gum Sheet. Brown caramel-coloured energy formed in front of her, not a solid mass but a stretching material meant to catch and intercept rather than deflect. “Block?”
“Rayon de tonnerre,” Merlon replied. His horn lit up, a white pulse rocketed from the tip into her shield, and for a second she thought she’d blocked it. The gum rippled and bent inward, but it held up.
Then came the actual thunder of the beam, and her shield was reduced to sticky splatters.
Master Merlon sighed. “Majesté, I cannot aid you in this lesson if you continue to show such weakness. These are basic attacks, they are well-known, not some obscure occult technique of the ancients.”
“Sorry. M-maybe we should just move on to partnered training. Pharynx hasn’t had the chance to properly apply his skills either, yet. You’ve only been toying around with him so far. Maybe we can better assess each other?”
Pharynx smirked. “Thought you’d never ask.” He didn’t even wait for Merlon’s approval to go into a lunge.
Cadence quickly threw up a tortoise shield again, leaving him pounding on the top of it. “Hah. See? I may not be a match for a master like you, Merlon, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own in a fight. I can block a normal attack.”
“Uhuh.” Pharynx flew up and spit out green goo on top of her shell. Circling around, he covered her in layer upon layer of waxy goop, until she couldn’t see anything. “There, you blocked it. And now you can stay in that bubble all you like.”
Cadence’s nostrils flared. The smell of the wax was everywhere. The air inside the safety of her shell quickly grew stale and stifling.
Don’t worry, Cadence, you had this lesson years ago. You know how to break free from this.
A simple fireball will suffice. Remember the runes, swirl the energy, ready the heat and detonate with your Power Word.
She concentrated on her spell, as she had been taught to all those years ago. It had been an uncomfortable practice at first, given that she’d been born without a horn, but she could still focus on the word she needed, the command for the Universe to obey.
Burn!
The fireball was technically sound, properly aimed, and completely useless against changeling goop. The heat inside her shell rose, biting back at her. She cursed herself for burning up precious air.
Stupid, stupid. Changelings live in a desert, of course their wax is heat resistant. Use mechanical force instead, that always works. A basic Thunderwave should rip it at its weak spot, I can burst through from there. That’s a raven rune, picture a lightning flash and then build it up for the Power Word and...
Thunder!
The shock pushed against the prison, almost inflating it to the point of bursting, but no holes formed. It bent, but it did not buckle.
Still the air grew thin and hot.
Okay, think, Cadence, think. You know that spell works against this, you just need a better focus. Power Word: Thunder doesn’t work. Maybe Power Word: Pulse, or Power Word: Shatter, or Power Word…
Caught.
Alone.
Weak.
Her mind raced to find the answer. The spells were all there, ready to fire, but her mind couldn’t find the right intent, the correct request for the spell to acquiesce, as her teachers would say.
Just think of something, Cadence.
Just find the word you need, you know how to channel it.
She breathed in hot, smoky air.
You know so many words.
You have all this magic.
She breathed out, and noticed the dryness in her throat.
Just find the right one.
Lightness crept up in her head even as blackness tinged the edges of her vision.
Twilight?
Shining?
From outside, she head Merlon call out, “Majesty?”
Majesty.
Even with her emotional energy depleted, she felt the exhilaration of power run through her veins. The heat around her seeped inward, her muscles tensed, her wings rose up.
She leaped up through the cocoon, shattering it. Stars were flickering within her vision, but she soon settled on her target.
Cadence was filled with the rush of power, with the domineering love of a mother who knew better. Those beneath her had done wrong, and she felt the deep need to correct their mistake. She could feel her eyes glowing.
“Uh, should I be worried?” Pharynx asked.
“Stay behind me, you’ll be fine,” Merlon replied.
Insolence.
She ignited her horn and let loose a heat beam that scorched the ground. Much to her surprise, Merlon took the full brunt of it, his own tortoise shield smoking but intact.
What?
Another attack, icy cold this time. She conjured a cloud in front of her and flapped her wings as fast as she could to send hailstones down below.
Merlon blocked it with a mirror shield. The hailstones pelted it, all of them hit, but none so much as cracked the Unicorn’s defences.
Why?
She unleashed thunder and lightning, emptying the cloud of all its energy. The field had a clean ring of rubble around the Unicorn and changeling. They themselves were still unharmed.
Merlon held her gaze, unafraid.
Why is he so much stronger than me?
“Make attention, Princess,” he called out.
“It’s pay attention,” Pharynx corrected.
“Truly? Ah, I must speak with my colleagues about our language lessons. In every case: boule de force!”
Cadence saw the attack coming. She raised up a mirror shield.
The attack hit, the mirror shattered, and she was hit in the gut, knocking her out of the sky and out of her delirium of power.
As she lay on the grass, she could find no words to attack with, or to defend.
Thunder?
Burn?
Shatter?
None of that works.
Tingling crept up her limbs.
Only one thought occupied her mind now.
Why am I this weak?
The two came trotting to her, and she sat up. A minor cleaning spell fixed her appearance, she could do that much, at least. The light in her eyes faded, her breath caught. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
“Fear, from the looks of it. It sent you right into your magical trance, your, ah, how do you say, your ‘State of Battle Royale.’ I was not anticipating such a display so soon: we have barely warmed up. But it is interesting to see a power drawn from love. L’amour, he is not an easy emotion to fuel an attack with, non, not at all like the tempests of a rage or ze whirlwind of panic. Positive energy is a very difficult thing in general to enter magical trance with. Fear is more common, and easy, so easy in fact that it can trigger on accident. Am I correct in this observation?”
“Fear is exactly what happened. I got caught. I blocked the attack, and I got caught. Again.”
“Sorry?” Pharynx said.
“Don’t apologise. It was a good move, proper strategy, anyone with any experience in fighting would have done it. And I should have been prepared for it.”
“At least you managed to break free of the attack,” Merlon tried. “That is very good: most ponies cannot manage even that. Still, you will want to avoid such a thing in the future. La peur, she is a powerful mistress, and can grant one great power, but she has no place in day-to-day spellcraft. Et la doute, you will have to be very careful when she sneaks up on you, Majesty, she can make you very weak indeed. She can blind you to the most obvious solutions to a problem.”
“Obvious, like what?” she asked.
“You were still protected by your tortoise shell defence, non? Could you not teleport out from under that?”
Her heart sank. “I… I guess you’re right. I do know how to teleport, and that shield spell would let me. I guess I just forgot. What do we do to fix that? Are we going to cover counterspells?”
“Oh, non, non,” Merlon said emphatically. “That would take far too much time, and it is too complicated a matter for either of you to bother with. Non, it is much more efficient to analyse in, how you say, the broad strokes. Both of you are similar in substance: you draw power from the need to protect, from a place of love, compassion. But, it is clear your techniques, they are very different. Pharynx, we will not have time to impart the details of verbal magic to you in a single day. It is regrettable, but zat is how it is. However, there is a breathing technique the deer of the East use that may be of interest to you. It is a medium-difficulty abjuration in theory, but easy to adopt as a change-forme. In effect, it would allow you to gain an elemental resistance of your choice, and maintain it as you shift into different forms. As it stands right now, you have no obvious weaknesses beyond that.”
“Hmm, elemental resistance, huh?” Pharynx asked. “So I could make myself fire-proof?”
“En effet. And, more importantly, it is simple enough to teach the other changelings in your care. Such a resistance may become useful if you are ever faced with a brushfire, any acid-spitting monsters that reside in your former desert home, or anything, ah, employing the poisons.”
“There are a few that do that, so… yeah, if we could manage that, that’d be great.”
“And me?” Cadence asked.
“Franchement, I know not if I can aid you. Your spell use is all technically sound: the qualities energetic of your higher spells are correct, the intent is clear, the timing is fine.”
“But?”
“But… I fear the Power Words you use as a fuel are lacking in… power, votre Majesté. There is not enough willpower behind your defence to stand up to a dedicated offensive. As an abjuration specialist, you cannot rely on shields alone. You need to react and choose your defence quickly but wisely, move to a counter-attack at the right time, and above all: you cannot allow for your will to grow weak. You say you forgot you could teleport. You have been forgetting many things this morning, then. Perhaps it is the nature of your power: you draw on positive energy, optimism. Such an approach, it may lead you to be unable to assess a threat properly. You cannot see the negative so well if your power is rooted in the positive.”
That certainly sounded plausible. “But still, how do I fix that, then?”
“There, I fear I am not qualified. I was classically trained: I never learned how to use these more modern magics of Friendship and Love and other positive emotions. To be totally honest, I am not so certain if they really work for normal ponies, but I shall spare you such, ah, political discussions. All I know is how to work with willpower, and yours, I fear, is weak at the moment. Weak willpower can be the result of many things: perhaps you cannot focus on the task at hoof. Perhaps choosing to focus on happy memories, it makes it harder to use in opposition to something, rather than supporting. And perhaps the words you choose are too, ah, dilués, thinned out. The mind needs a solid focus to work magic, after all.”
“Right. And if it’s all three of those?”
“Then I would suggest trying some other spells that aid those next to you in fighting an enemy, let a pony who can fight take care of the battle.”
The advice felt like a punch to her chest.
Let somepony else fight.
Again.
“Bah, but we have spent enough time exploring the limits of our magic. You have had a rough morning, and going overdrive in such a manner, even for a few seconds, it would tire out even the likes of a master like myself. So how about we take a break and have some lunch, hein? Clear your thoughts, have a nice meal, take a walk to think and we’ll meet back here around two. Who knows, could be that you get an idea very luminous while you eat.”
“Sounds perfect,” Cadence lied. “I’ll, err, I’ll be back around two, Master Merlon.”
Cadence was at her favorite spot: a little diner near the train station with seats outside. It had lovely art on the walls that separated it from the boardwalk, and in turn it provided privacy while letting her sit and watch the goings-on of her Empire’s entrance.
The ponies here were nice, and for reasons beyond the obvious. They appreciated her custom as they did any other, and they knew exactly how she liked her croûton and cheese salad.
The day certainly warranted a croûton and cheese salad. If this kept up, she was looking at the dreaded waffle and syrup dinner.
What happened to me?
Why am I so weak?
Aunt Celestia can hold her own against a threat: it’s only the ones that cheat that get past her.
Was it Chrysalis?
Her mind wandered back to those days as she chewed on a leaf of garden rocket. She could still recall those awful few seconds she saw Chrysalis before being sent to the caves below Canterlot. Time lost its meaning there, without sunlight. Space and orientation was a lost cause, thanks to the spells Chrysalis used to scramble everything. And all the while, Cadence was left hungry and thirsty, her magic the only thing keeping her alive.
She took a long sip of her lemonade. Cave water for so many weeks had left her taste buds anticipating a limestoney aftertaste to everything, nearly ruined any enjoyment of her wedding cake, too.
That was in the past, though, even if it did loom so heavily on the present, she felt.
Chrysalis didn’t kill me then. She still wanted me alive, for vanity’s sake, perhaps. Or maybe she hoped to trick me with a fake Shining Armour to drain me completely.
I beat her, though. We beat her.
Did that leave some scar in me?
What about the Crystal Empire, and Sombra? The first time he returned, I did just fine. I kept the entire Empire safe. My power was enough to match the Crystal Heart at full charge then, for a while.
Did I exhaust myself?
It can’t be anything since then: everyone was captured by Chrysalis the second time, and Sombra barely touched me the second time he returned.
She gritted her teeth, crunching on a croûton.
But he did take over. And Chrysalis did get me, again.
It has to be from before that. But what?
Flurry Heart, perhaps?
No, couldn’t be.
Could it?
“Hey, Princess. Need some company?”
Apparently the diner didn’t provide enough stealth to hide from changelings. Then again, maybe her sparring partner had turned into a bloodhound for the occasion. “I wouldn’t mind it, Pharynx. Liking the Crystal Empire food?”
“I don’t know.” He put the sandwich he’d gotten on the table, along with a bottle of cherry soda. “I thought I’d get a children’s menu, but apparently you don’t make those with free-range children here.”
Cadence blinked.
Pharynx shook his head. “Huh, I thought that would work. This ‘joke’ thing isn’t as easy as Thorax made it out to be.” He took a big chunk out of his sandwich. The red pesto stained his lips, and part of her was thankful the new changeling form had opted to drop the fangs. “Sho wash bothering you?”
Somehow, the crass lack of decorum felt like a breath of fresh air to the Princess. “You really have to ask? You saw what happened in there. I can’t do it. I can’t fight.”
He gulped. “Yeah, I noticed. Any idea why?”
“A lot of ideas, but no way to know which one’s right. My Power Words are supposed to be fine, my technique is fine, I’ve had all the training I need as a Princess, and I still can’t stand up to a simple threat. No offence.”
“None taken: I like simple.” He took another big bite. “Don’t get to be simple anymore, though, not these days. These days every changeling is weak.”
“Even you?”
He nodded. “That Merlon guy could squash me anytime he wanted. I can hit him with everything I’ve got and I wouldn’t make a dent in his shield. But he’s a Unicorn. You’re an alicorn. How does that work?”
“Quite well for him, apparently.”
“Obviously, but that magic? What are you guys even talking about? Back at the hive, we never got advanced magic spells, so this is pretty new to me, too.”
“Oh, right, I guess Chrysalis would be the only one to know. Well, basic magic is thinking hard enough to make something real happen.” She gestured with her hoof to make a small illusion of a flower growing. “The big problem is that our minds tend to be a little… crowded, with a lot of wanting and desiring, usually things that contradict each other.” She rolled her eyes, making the flower’s image blurry. “There are whole departments dedicated to debating why some creatures have magic and others don’t, but one thing everyone agrees on: wizards don’t work if they don’t have an on and off switch.” She flicked her hoof, and the fake flower disappeared.
“So a Power Word is a switch, then?”
“Something like that. A Power Word is a way to get a concept into a single word, like ‘fire’ or ‘shield’ or ‘ward.’ It’s the basis of verbal magic, things you can do without having to move or needing materials. It’s how you go from thinking to yourself to shouting at the world, and making the world do what you want. The simpler the word, the more reliable it is. Not all spells work with them, but a lot of them do, especially the ones that run on emotional energy.”
“Which would be everything you and I do.”
“Pretty much. The other side of that is pure willpower, but you need to be hardcore to do that.”
“Like Merlon?”
“Probably.” She took a sip of her lemonade and ate on, before continuing. “Spells aren’t an exact science, there’s a lot of overlap. You can do different things and get the same result, if that makes sense. Power Words are popular, because a word means something: it’s uniform. If you can put power into a word, that’s a reliable focus, and it means you’re less likely to get a misfire. Since ponies agree on the meaning of the word, it’s easy to teach, as well.”
“Makes sense.” Pharynx thought for a second, before grumbling. “Wait, is that why Ocellus keeps saying Unicorns yell out spells so much?”
“No, that’s the spells themselves, Power Words are shorter. There are rules to it: too many words or one that’s too long lands you right back into overthinking things, which would block your magic.” She rolled her eyes at the thought. “It does let you power up complex spells, but again, there are rules to that. My sister-in-law would know more about that. Me, all I know is that Power Words are supposed to be fuel and focus, and that they help with magic.”
“So it’s kinda like how we use love as a fuel, then. Changelings and you, I mean. Why not just stick with that? It’s the strongest magic you’ve got, right?”
That thought, once comforting, now depressed her. “Yes. I suppose you could say we have that in common. But Power Words, verbal magic, it’s generally rational, not emotional: they don’t burn you out as much as using an emotional high, since there’s no low point that comes after. They just work. They’re neutral, and usually short, blunt, and effective. They let you do the same things with less energy, more control.”
Pharynx furrowed his brow. He burped after drinking his cherry soda. “Wait, wait, you lost me. So… this whole Power Word thing would let you cast spells without going all lovey-dovey? But you were doing nothing but lovey-dovey stuff back there, I could taste it in the air.”
She sighed. “I don’t rely purely on Power Words, or purely on emotions. You’re not supposed to.”
“Why not?”
Cadence tried to think of the answer, but found it eluded her. She sat back, thinking. “You know, it’s funny, I don’t think anypony ever told me why. I’m sure it has something to do with levels, though. Merlon doesn’t use any emotion, and it works fine for him.”
“Okay, obviously you know how it works, but then why doesn’t it work for you? You should be strong enough to block me, right?” Pharynx argued.
“I should, but I’m not.”
“Still not hearing an answer why, Princess.” He chewed his bread some more, staring at her.
“I don’t know. I just am.” She saw him mulling over it. “What about you? You’re stronger than me, why do you think you’re weak? Merlon can take either of us, that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does to me. I’m in charge of defending the Hive. I don’t get any fancy Power Words or Princess training to do it. Raw power is all I’ve got, the only thing I can rely on.”
“You can learn, though.”
“And you think you can’t learn power?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’ve got schools for spells, don’t you?”
“Well, we do, but not everypony can learn every spell. In fact, most Unicorns don’t do big magic at all.”
“Huh, that’s weird.” He sipped his cherry soda, thinking. “That’d be like saying most Pegasi can’t fly.”
She shrugged. “A lot of them can’t, actually. And a lot of Earth ponies don’t have any strength, either, if that’s what you’re asking.” She sighed as that train of thought reached its logical conclusion. “Maybe I’m just one of those alicorns who is weak.”
“So how do they get their power back?”
“Excuse me?”
“The Pegasi that can’t fly. How do they get flying anyway?”
“They don’t. You can either fly or you can’t. You’re either a strong Earth pony or you’re not. There’s no real changing that. You can try teaching them, sure, but some ponies are just weak and you can’t fix that.”
Pharynx snorted, quite a feat considering he didn’t have nostrils at the time. “So you never had power in the first place, then.”
“I have the power of Love, and the Magic of Friendship.”
“And a fat load of good that’ll do against a real enemy. Are you even listening to yourself? You ponies are all talk about the Magic of Friendship and Magic of Love, but you just admitted a good chunk of your so-called friends are doomed to be weak for life. If any of our infiltrators ever heard that kind of nonsense coming from our prey, we’d start preaching that ourselves to make the job easier.”
She ran that scenario in her head and, reluctantly, she had to agree. “I mean, when you put it like that, it does sound somewhat sketchy. But it’s not like magic running on anger is any better.”
“At least it’s magic with a purpose. It gets the job done. All you’ve got is pretty words to make ponies feel better without actually making them better. Anger sounds pretty efficient compared to that. You know when we were planning to kidnap you, the first time? Chrysalis told us you were weak, a pony of love, with no bite to her. I warned her not to underestimate you, because I figured that was an act. But now that you’re here… you really don’t have any anger in you, do you?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Is it a good thing, then?” He took a final swig of soda and stifled another burp. “Think about it: if you don’t get disgusted by anything, how do you avoid eating stuff that’s bad for you? Why do you think we changelings used to get so disgusted by sappy emotions? It’s empty calories, it’s bad for us. If you’re not scared of anything, how do you avoid things that can kill you? And if you can’t hate or get angry at anything, anything at all, how do you plan to find the will to fight?”
“Hmm, touché.”
“Gesundheit.”
She rolled her eyes. “I guess that means you must have a lot of anger and hate in your heart, huh? Since you can still fight.”
He looked away. “That’s different.”
“Different, how?”
“Whether I want to or not, I have to be that way, otherwise everyone around me is in danger. I have to be able to defend the Hive.”
“At any cost?” She asked.
“Any cost to myself,” he replied. “We’re peaceful now, and we’re happy. But eventually, someone’s going to pick a fight with us. And that means they pick a fight with me. I can’t afford to lose. If that means being angry all the time, I’ll do it. I don’t expect you to understand.”
She smiled. “I do, actually. It’s a very noble thought, in a way. But it does come with a problem.”
“Even if I stay angry, I can’t fight forever,” he said. “Eventually, someone else has to take over. Someone else has to learn how to be angry like me.”
“I was going to warn you about the consequences of an adrenalin overload and the possibility of your nervous system overloading or your heart stopping, but yes, that too.”
Pharynx glared at her.
“My husband has good knowledge of Unicorn magic. And he’s smarter than he looks.”
“Doesn’t mean much to me: shapeshifter, remember?”
She sighed and finished her lunch.
“Sorry if I said anything to upset you. I’m still new to this whole diplomacy thing, too.”
“It’s fine. You’re right: there is something very wrong with how ponies are treating magic these days. I haven’t been to Ponyville that often, but every time I do, there are more ponies who look, well, deficient. That can’t be a good sign. Still, angry and self-erasing is no way to go through life.”
“Maybe. But I’m gonna be fireproof before sundown. You’re the one who needs to worry.”
“I know. I’m going to go for a walk, clear my head before we get back to fighting.”
Cadence found a spot near one of the smaller, less-visited parks of her Empire. She sat in the shade of a cherry tree, closed her eyes, and thought, calmly and quietly, as she had been taught to when she’d first started learning real magic.
Why am I so weak?
Was I always like this?
What happened?
As before, the thoughts ran through their train of logic. For starters, she couldn’t have always been weak, because she had shown strength in the past, under great stress at that. However, Pharynx had a point: the Magic of Friendship, and the Magic of Love by extension, were not as practical as the magic of, well, magic. One couldn’t use friendship to make a crippled Pegasus fly, one couldn’t use love to give super strength to an Earth pony.
Part of her wished Star Swirl the Bearded were here. Another part would have preferred Stygian, who had experience with facing weakness. Meadowbrook would no doubt have seen similar cases on countless occasions in her time.
If she were truly honest with herself, though, she’d have settled for Rockhoof. Magically aging from teen foal age to full stallion in seconds wasn’t an experience she wished on anypony, but at least there was a precedent there.
Having any of the Pillars show up today was a pipe dream, though: none of them were due back in the Crystal Empire until Friday, at the earliest. Even Mistmane was on holiday.
She shook her head to clear it.
I’m getting sidetracked. Back from the beginning: I used to be strong enough to fight. Now I’m not. My love magic isn’t fit for fighting in the first place.
So, obviously, I used to fight differently. Something changed, and I never noticed, because I always assumed love would be the answer.
But if it wasn’t love in the first place, what was it?
Was it anger? Was it hatred?
She breathed out, and focused on a little source of heat building in her chest.
Maybe Pharynx is right. Maybe I should just get angry.
The burning sensation in her chest rose, wisps of smoke tickled her nostrils.
There’s no harm in it if I’m only fighting to protect what’s right.
“Princess Cadence! Fancy meeting you here!”
The burning sensation faded to surprise, then annoyance. “Discord. Hello. What brings you to the Empire?”
“Oh, I just thought I’d pop in for a round of my favorite counting game,” the draconequus replied.
“Counting game?”
Right at that moment, the Crystal Palace was bathed in pink light, followed by a flood of pudding that was, thankfully, dispelled before it could spill out too far onto the streets.
Discord snapped his fingers, and a blackboard appeared. The blackboard had a drawing of a goatee’d stallion’s face and a horned baby filly on it. Discord licked his eagle talon and put a little white stripe under the filly’s section.
“Flurry Heart nine, Sunburst four. Your daughter’s in the lead today.”
Cadence rolled her eyes. Of course he was drawn to the chaos of an alicorn filly, why wouldn’t he be? “And your sudden business with me?”
He shuddered and opened a portal, or an illusionary one, at least, that resembled a swirling galaxy. “I sensed a great disturbance in the Horse. Well, one horse in particular: you.” He closed the galaxy as if he were slamming a book shut. “And I know a few ponies who’d never forgive me if I let anything happen to you.”
“I see. You’re looking to score brownie points after your last disaster.”
“I am not! I am merely fulfilling the conditions of my parole. See? I even have an ankle monitor. He’s right over there.”
Sure enough, five paces ahead there was another Discord, wearing a Fetlock Holmes hat and a magnifying glass. The double was currently looking at a disembodied crocodilian limb and murmuring “Mhm, mhm, definitely an ankle.”
Again, Cadence rolled her eyes. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to get a fresh perspective on this.”
Discord draped himself next to her under the tree, pouring tea out of thin air into an invisible cup. “So, do tell. And if there’s anything painful or embarrassing involved… well, I’d hate to miss it.”
“You probably already know me and Shining Armour are getting fighting lessons today.”
“I did catch wind of that,” he replied. “And that does explain the tremors three blocks down. For a second there, I thought I’d left something on again.”
She ignored the quip. “Long story short: apparently I can’t fight, not anymore. I’m supposed to be good at abjuration, shields and defense are what I’m best at, and my best is…”
“Not good enough?”
She chuckled nervously. “Worse than that: not good at all. Not fit for purpose. I was stronger when I graduated, stronger than this.”
He took a loud sip from his tea. “And this bothers you, why? Your husband is good at fighting.”
“Shining isn’t well,” Cadence replied. “He hasn’t been well since Chrysalis got to him at the wedding. His mind was damaged, and we’re only now repairing it.”
“Really? I never noticed.”
“He tried to secure the Royal Palace with magic-cancelling rocks and giant fans,” Cadence argued.
“That doesn’t have to imply any mental damage.”
“Then he tried to secure the throne room using a flock of geese.”
Right at that moment, a gaggle of pony-sized bipedal creatures came running by. They looked vaguely like ducklings, with their grey fuzzy down and flat feet. However, the down sparked with electricity, and Cadence was pretty sure she saw the beginnings of antlers on their heads. The snouts were also very different, lacking beaks and instead resembling a deer’s face, somehow, and not one of the slender smooth-nosed cute species, either, but a fuzzy-nosed one, either a very bulky reindeer of the tundra or a moose.
Whatever they were, as far as Cadence could tell, they were definitely Caneighdian.
She didn’t get long to ponder it, though, as Discord snapped his fingers and instantly got them all in comfy cages with water and food, stacked neatly atop each other. An Earth pony stallion, one wearing a bandana and animal trainer armour, came running up to the stack, panting.
“New batch got away from you, Cratus?” Discord asked.
“I swear, if it’s not moslings zapping my giant bugs, it’s jellybirds sneaking through the bars again,” the stallion replied, before taking hold of a cart that wasn’t there two seconds earlier and wheeling the bird deer things off. “Thanks, Discord!”
“No problem!” Discord called out. “Now, you were saying something about only idiots using geese for security?”
“Very funny,” Cadence said. “But you know what I mean. Shining Armour shouldn’t have to fight alone. He shouldn’t have to fight for me. He’s a father as much as I’m a mother. I don’t want Flurry Heart to grow up thinking he’s, well…”
The draconequus, strangely, nodded in empathy, or seemed to, at least, it was a rare expression and the way his face was built made it difficult to discern that particular emotion. “I can understand that. You want to fight with him, or for him, if you have to. No reason you shouldn't want to, you being a Princess and all. Twilight’s done a lot of fighting, and that was before she got her crown, or her wings. But why isn’t it working?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
He took another sip of tea, before shrugging. “Well, what are you using? Not all pony magic works for all ponies. A lot of the old magic doesn’t work for any of them, these days.”
“That’s also been part of my questions. Right now, I’m trying Power Words.”
“Yegh.” He gagged. “Power Words, that old fad should have gone out of style with the magical academy.”
“Magical academies are still in style, Discord.”
“My point exactly. It’s so reductive, so restricting, why would you want to put your magic in a straightjacket? The only fun in that is showing off how you break out of it before you hit the shark tank.”
“No sharks today, please, Discord?” Cadence said before he could snap his fingers. “I really need to think this through seriously.”
“Suit yourself.”
“No piranha or giant otters or any other aquatic animal either, please.”
“I wasn’t going to, but now that you mention it, giant otters? That’s not a bad idea.” He stroked his beard, thinking. “They eat piranha for breakfast, literally. I’ll need to talk to Spike about that, spice up our game night a little.”
“Focus, Discord.”
He finished his tea and made a gesture to throw the invisible cup behind him. Somewhere a few blocks down, a goat screamed in protest. “I’m not the one having problems focusing, you are! You just said you can’t do Power Words properly. That’s a whole branch of magic you just cut down. What else is there? Have you tried the Magic of Friendship? Maybe that’ll solve all your problems.”
“No, I am quite sure that won’t work, either. It’s not reliable, it’s impractical. I need to figure out what’s changed. I used to be able to fight. I had instructors, I had tutors, I’m classically trained.”
“I’m assuming by that you mean you were just ‘trained,’ but by my standards.”
“Yes.” She let her head hang. “I’m starting to worry, Discord, whatever that may mean to you.”
“Worried you’re losing your power? Oh, you poor thing, that must feel dreadful, can't imagine what that's like,” he held a paw to his forehead as if he were about to faint.
Cadence continued to ignore his theatrics, if only to retain some control over the situation. “That, too. But I’m more worried I gave it up instead, and what might happen if I take it back.” She grit her teeth. “If you do want to help, if you are trying to redeem yourself again, here’s your chance.”
That instantly got the draconequus to perk up. “You want me to zap some juice into you, you mean?”
“No. I want you to answer a simple question, one I know you have the answer to. Aunt Celestia freed you from your prison for a reason. We sent you after Tirek for a reason. I know you can sense when magical power is being transferred from one entity to another.”
He scoffed. “For all the good that did when Cozy Glow cheated and locked me out of Equestria with her sigils. Stupid scheming Tirek and his pen pal privileges.”
“Don’t change the subject. Just answer me this. I know you would have noticed it if I lost a large portion of my power.”
"I would and you didn’t,” he argued. “I don't even know why you'd think that.”
“Yes, you do. You would know if there was some pony out there, right now, who had the power I am missing.”
He fidgeted. “Well, I mean, if you could point in a direction, maybe? I’m not sure what you’re getting at here.”
The blackboard appeared again. Discord idly marked another point on it in the filly’s favour. Cadence nodded at the board, and he finally got her meaning.
“Oh. Oh, right, I suppose that would make sense. That does tend to happen, you know, with powerful magical beings: they end up pouring a lot of power into their offspring, sometimes too much. But hey, leaves more turf for us bachelors to rule, at least.”
“Is that what’s wrong with me? Am I weak now because I gave my power to Flurry Heart?”
He blew a raspberry, and Cadence swore she heard some market pony a few blocks down yelling something about cabbages. “No, not even close. Flurry Heart’s magic isn’t the same as yours, it’s much more chaotic and underdeveloped. No, whatever she’s got is a mix of two powerful parents along with some alicorn shenanigans even I don’t know the nitty gritty of. If anything, you would have noticed a drop in power before you had her, if you catch my drift.” He shook his head. “No, this is something else, this is more of a blockage, if you ask me.” He snapped his fingers and conjured up a plunger, a red cap with a white circle on it to contrast against a red ‘Q’ for some reason, and a fake moustache that looked like it belonged on a pizza chef. “Need something unplugged, then?”
“If you can promise not to cause a mess in the Empire, and have me back before two, please. I really need a second opinion on this.”
“Not to worry, Princess: this is my speciality.”
Another snap of the fingers, and she found herself looking back at her own wedding, the few moments when Shining Armour had been incapacitated.
Dead, she corrected herself. She’d thought he was dead at the time, unresponsive as he was, doped up on numbing changeling magic and exhausted from refueling a shield the size of Canterlot.
Looking down at herself, and at Discord, she noticed they both looked like ghosts.
Memory spell. Aunt Celestia was fond of this one, too.
“Now then, Princess, if we’re talking magic, we only need to answer one question: what were you thinking? What was going through your mind before you cast your spell, before you let love save the day? Was it a powerful thought?”
Cadence caught her breath. “I have to save him. I have to get him out.”
“Really? The whole city’s under attack, and that’s what you’re concerned with?”
“If I can save him, I can save the city.” She looked around the room, at all the ponies cowering in fear, or glued to the floor. “This is a hostage situation, he knows how to deal with those. He can free the other ponies, Twilight’s reached the vault once already, she can teleport us there now, use the Elements to deal with the Queen. Save my husband, save the hostages, save the city.”
“Hmm, curious,” Discord remarked.
“What?”
“That you’d be so lucid after weeks of starvation, with your husband on death’s door, and the monster responsible less than ten paces away. So is that really what you were thinking, or is that what you tell yourself afterwards?”
“I don’t know. But I’m guessing you know the answer already.”
“Let’s try a different example.” A snap, a star shower, and she was on top of the Crystal Palace, at the heart of the Empire. Another Cadence, her old self, was trying desperately to hold up a shield long enough to keep King Sombra out.
Discord had conjured up a microphone and a cap, as if he were a sports commentator. “Okay, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, you’re making a shield over your whole Empire and filling all the crystals with your love magic at the same time. The enemy is at the gates, pounding down on your defences, what is going through your mind right now?” He put the microphone in front her.
She shook her head. “I can’t fail. I have to hold this up. I need to stay focused. If I keep this up for a little longer, the Crystal ponies can fill their land with love again and keep Sombra out permanently. I have to defend, that’s my role.”
“No,” Discord replied, dropping the act. “Wrong again.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?”
“Nothing much, I only want you to do just once what you ponies insist I do every single day of eternity: own up to your own thoughts and actions. Last chance, Cadence.”
The last snap was different. When they came back to this memory, there were no landmarks to recognise the location by. There was no natural light here, either. Only two things stood out: a pony in darkness, unrecognisable except for the parts lit by a necklace, and a little pink Pegasus filly standing against her.
Discord leaned down to speak right in Cadence’s ear. “There’s a bad pony in front of you. She’s been stealing love. You found out, and she is about to attack you for it. If you fail to fix this, everyone you know is lost. Now think very carefully: what was going through your mind then?”
“Fear.”
“No. Fear is an emotion, that’s your body trying to save itself. I am asking you what you were thinking. Try again.”
She gulped. “I-I… I had a plan to get that necklace off. I could have fled, gotten help.”
“No,” Discord repeated. “You didn’t get any of that Princess training in tactics and strategy until after you managed to beat this mare. So what was it, then? Magic doesn’t simply happen just like that: there has to be a will, an intent, a focus to it. You wanted something, for just a split second, and you wanted it so badly the Universe itself couldn’t stop you from getting it. What was it? It can’t have been safety, or else it would have summoned help instead of vanquishing your foe.”
“It can’t have been love, either,” Cadence remarked. “I had so much of it already.”
“Then what was it? What went through your mind in that one moment? What Power Word saved the day here? What’s the word you forgot?”
“I don’t know!” she shouted. “I… maybe there was a book on Power Words in the village, I must have remembered it back then, but I don’t know it now.”
“No,” Discord insisted. “That right there is your problem, Princess: you keep thinking about what word to use. You keep going back and forth about what you want. You have all of these words, but you’re using them wrong. You’re supposed to use them to stop overthinking everything, but instead you do nothing but overthinking with them. Every time you try to defend yourself, there’s always this little voice that pipes up about the risks, about the dangers. Don’t use a reflection spell, it might send the fireball into a crowd. Don’t dodge that bomb, it might hit somepony behind you. Don’t attack back, you might hurt someone, and then no one will take you seriously as a Princess of Love. Every wizard gets that voice, every mortal gets it, but we don't listen to it, not when it counts. You do. You started listening to that little voice, when you started having too many things to lose, and because of that, your words lost power. You say the magic word with doubt behind it, all you’re going to get in return is doubt. Every wizard knows that, even if they don’t like to admit it. Even I have things to lose now, but I don't let that stop me.”
“No, clearly that’s a problem you don’t have,” she remarked. “You can afford to snap your fingers and do whatever you want. But it’s not that simple for me. There are consequences to my actions. I have responsibilities.”
“Exactly. You have responsibilities, and you are ducking out of them by doing nothing, by letting yourself be weakened by doubt. And then afterwards, of course, you rationalise it, you justify it however you can. But like you said yourself: you were classically trained. You were trained and taught the way ponies were back in the old days, back in my days. You know the only way to make your magic stronger is to be, in a nutshell, more like me.” He smiled and gestured to the little filly about to become an alicorn. “So, Cadence, Princess… friend. Tell me now: did you have any doubt back then? In your finest hours, did you ever worry about the consequences of your actions? Did you worry what might happen if you succeeded?”
“No,” she realised. “I only ever worried about what would happen if I failed.”
“There you go, then. You let failure into your mind, when before you kept it out so well. So, back to the matter at hoof: what Power Word kept it out before? What’s the one thing you can always tell the world, what’s the one word that’s never failed? What's the one word you forgot?”
Cadence closed her eyes. Her horn lit up, and the memory spell was broken. She found herself back under the tree.
“I get it, Discord. You are right.” She got up to leave. It was nearly two in the afternoon, after all. “I did forget. I wanted to forget.”
Discord looked at his eagle talons, his snapping fingers. There was a crackle of electricity in them now, the tell-tale sign of a feedback burst. His expression had lightened, into one of pleasant surprise. Only now did she realise he was standing farther from her than before.
In breaking his spell, even if he'd cast it so casually, she’d made him flinch.
Part of her wondered how many ponies could do that back in his day, and how many remained that could do it now.
“Do you want me to come along?” he asked. “You look a little shaken.”
“No. I remember now. Thank you, Discord.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s why I’m here, after all.”
Her head was pounding when she entered the arena again. Her chest felt hollow, her mouth dry, her breath ragged.
You're fine, Cadence. This just what it feels like when you’re at full power.
Pharynx raised an eyebrow at her when she passed him by, Merlon merely greeted her. “Alright, you are here, let us continue the lesson. If you cannot block a simple attack, Princess Cadence, we will have to work on your evasion. Think rapidly.”
The fireball he intended to use for practice was a big one. As such, it took a few seconds for the flames to fully form and congeal.
By the time it reached her, she’d already deployed her pearl defense. The blaze didn’t so much as singe her mane as she stood and weathered it. Cadence glared at the Unicorn, her face devoid of any emotion.
Master Merlon tilted his head. “Ah. Bon.”
He tried a barrage of magic missiles next. The Royal Flame shield sufficed for that: dozens of little blue bolts peppered her bubble, but she didn’t so much as hear them fizzle out against the surface.
“Something’s different,” Pharynx said. It came through slightly muddled, but she heard it through the silencing effect, still. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Cadence replied. “I had some time to think, I believe I found the problem. And I fixed it.”
“Majesté, that would be quite the breakthrough for a mare of your… background. You do know what it is you are implying, non?”
“I do. Hit me with your best shot.”
“Very well. Please do not hold it against me if I take you up on your challenge.” With a gesture, he conjured up another flaming rock and sent it careening into her.
Tempest’s attack.
Her heart quickened. Time slowed down, panic set in again.
She dropped her shield.
For a second, she saw the surprise in Merlon’s eyes. Then she stomped on the ground, sending crackling magic through it. In front of her, dirt and mud erupted to form a solid wall that caught the projectile effortlessly.
Finally, she afforded herself a smirk. “That’s a physical attack, it’s anti-magic. But that doesn’t mean it can go through a solid wall raised with magic.”
Merlon nodded in appreciation. “Pas mauvais. But do not neglect your blind spot, princess.”
“He’s right,” Pharynx said, creeping closer to her. “How do you plan to fight off a crowd with that?”
“Ever see a fractal barrier?”
“A wha-oof!”
She tried not to grin, and it took all her concentration to keep that empty mental state of detachment going. She knew that’s where her strength lay now.
Pharynx, on the other hoof, now lay on the ground, shoved back by a tortoise shell pattern made of glass.
“Curious,” Merlon said. “Your shields have gotten stronger all of a sudden.”
“Way stronger. This thing’s tempered glass.” Pharynx circled around her from above and tried to cocoon her again. The green wax flowed off of it like water. “I can’t even get anything to stick on it.”
“Multi-fragment,” Cadence muttered under her breath.
The shell shedded a few layers without thinning out, giving her a set of glass hexagons to work with.
The changeling was the primary target here: he was more mobile, less predictable. One hex slammed into him from above, grounding him. Three more piled on to form a makeshift prison even he couldn’t squirm his way out of.
“I wouldn’t try to change shape under there, Pharynx,” she said. “That’s the Dhampir Defense of the Sylvanian Hills, it’ll burn you if you try. It also does some unpleasant things when combined with direct sunlight.”
Again, Merlon nodded. “A fine choice of defence, and an excellent transition into an offensive. Princess Cadence, I must say I am impressed with your sudden progress. But your eyes, they seem a little less joyful than before. Are you sure you are all in order?”
“I am. I’ve found a new power word, you might say. Same spells, different fuel. Seems to be working fine so far.”
“Ah bon.” He charged up his horn. “May I ask what word grants your power now, then?” The magic swirled and spiralled around his horn, then his neck, then his whole body, before he released it.
The drilling spell ground against her glass magic, a low whine filled her ears and the heat of friction started to tickle at her hide.
She closed her eyes, breathed in, and uttered a single word to serve as a focal point.
“No.”
With that, she reared up and launched a drilling spell of her own. She forced herself to ignore the risk of hurting the master, of causing damage to the infrastructure, even what sort of an example she was setting for her daughter.
All that mattered was the magic, and the struggle against the enemy’s.
Eventually, the beams settled into a stalemate, and both ponies relented.
“Very good, Princess, very good,” Merlon gestured to Pharynx. “Release our ami change-forme, if you please.”
With a wave of her hoof, she let the glass shards fade away. “Sorry about that, Pharynx.”
“Don’t be: it was effective. I’m gonna have to ask Ocellus about that one.”
“Are you calm, Princess? Are you lucid?” Merlon asked. “And I mean no disrespect, bien sûr. I have seen students struggle with that sort of development for years on end. Those that succeed, they usually get second thoughts about it.”
“I’m fine now. You were right,” Cadence said. “I was doing it wrong. I kept falling back on love as my power, but… love doesn’t mean accepting just anything. Sometimes you have to put your hoof down and say ‘no.’ A good, hard ‘no’ doesn’t have to be hateful, or loving. It can be neutral, and powerful. I guess that’s a good power word to use, huh? No? It’s simple, it’s strong, it doesn’t have to have any emotions to it. It’s… a classic, isn’t it?”
“Didn’t seem like you liked it very much, though,” Pharynx remarked.
“Ouais, this is very true. Most abjurers recommend against using the word ‘non’ for that reason: it is neutral. It has no morality to it except the caster’s. That makes it a dangerous word to have in your head. Still, it is considered the most powerful of the Power Words, and the most difficult to fully master. You have to completely shut down your sense of consequence to do so effectively. Of course, the same is true for all of the higher magic, but the magic of denial can become a habit most cruel. Well done, Princess. You have learned a harsh lesson, but found a core teaching in the school of abjuration in the process.”
“Uhuh,” Pharynx said. “Is that what you call ‘classic’?”
“Yes,” she replied. “The Magic of Friendship is fairly modern, so is love magic. Older magic, classical magic, it was made in darker times. It was made for darker times, I guess.”
“So what went wrong the first time?” Pharynx asked.
Merlon cleared his throat. “Such matters are beyond the purview of our training here.”
“No, they’re not.” Cadence shook her head. “If changelings are going to develop their own magic and stand on their own four hooves… or however many you decide to stand on, you should know. I… kept overthinking it, deep down. I kept thinking about the risks, about the future, instead of focusing on the moment.” She bit her lip, before continuing. “I could stop myself from worrying what might happen if I failed, but instead I started to worry what might happen if I succeeded. Doing that, you end up giving power to the part of you that wants to fail, which is exactly the part Power Words are supposed to block. When push comes to shove, you can’t afford to doubt yourself, at all. You have to block everything out, not just the obvious stuff.”
Pharynx quirked an eyebrow. “Err… doesn’t that mean you could have killed me just now? If you weren’t worrying about the consequences at all, I mean.”
“Yes. I did say I was sorry. The most powerful creatures of magic tend to be the ones who care about the consequences the least, because they don’t care. It’s not a rule they teach in most Unicorn academies these days, for obvious reasons, but the classically trained ones do get the reminder every once in a while.”
“It is a sad fact of our world, oui,” Merlon added. “But, warnings aside, I am glad you have found your power, Princess. You are a credit to your teachers. And, if you will permit, you have demonstrated a skill the Royal Sisters and even Twilight Sparkle have trouble with.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Tapping into your full potential with only willpower, and no emotional overload. It is a good skill to have for any wizard, and not one that can be taught so easily. We shall continue with this for the remainder of the day, I will show you some safeguards against obsession that may come from over-use. And Prince Pharynx, let us work on that fireproofing, hein?”
“Okay, sure. Err, how fireproof can you make me exactly?”
Merlin grinned. “Oh, as best we can.”
When the lesson was done and she found her husband, Cadence felt relief more than anything else. Tears had formed in her eyes throughout the training, something Merlon claimed was a good sign.
Shining Armour immediately asked the question she expected of him.
“Waffles for dinner?”
She gave him a big hug and nuzzled his neck. “I think a spinach quiche would be more appropriate today.”
“Wow, you look like you got blown up,” Pharynx said.
Cadence turned. To be fair, Thorax was limping, and his antlers were severely cracked. There was dust all over his carapace, too.
“I did,” the changeling King replied. “But at least I learned how to fight explosives… eventually...”
Shining Armour backed away from the hug. “So, it went well?”
“It went okay,” she replied. “But I will be sending a letter to Canterlot tonight.”
“Anything I should know about?”
She looked him in the eyes then. She’d already rehearsed her message during the training, save perhaps some royal flairs to throw in.
Dear Aunt Celestia,
Thank you for the tutoring session today. It was nice seeing our changelings friends again, and I’ve learned some important lessons about protection magic and, well, magic in general.
On that note, when Aunt Luna wakes up, would you mind telling her she was right? I know I’ve been dodging the subject whenever it came up, but she should know: she was right.
Love isn’t the most powerful magic there is. At this point, I’m not even sure if Friendship is. When you get right down to it, there isn’t any magic that’s more powerful than another. There’s not even an emotion more powerful than another. All there is is ponies, and how strongly they feel something, or want something. I’m sure there are plenty of academics in the EEA who’d be waggling their hooves saying ‘I told you so’ if they caught wind of this.
It’s weird. I’d kind of hoped Luna was wrong, but I don’t know if I ever really believed she was. Chalk that up to magic blurring what you see and want to see, I guess.
On the bright side: I can use my full power on command now, without going all glowy-eyed. It’s just a pure willpower thing. All I had to do was find a simpler power word and stop caring about the consequences, focus on the now. I feel distant when I do it, like an observer in my own body, but at least I know I can do it. It chills my heart, but it doesn’t stop it. Plus, I still have everything else to warm it, that’s a plus.
Please don’t tell Twilight about this, any of this. She doesn’t need this kind of cynicism on her plate.
Love from the Crystal Empire,
Cadence.
“No,” Cadence said. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
The End.