//------------------------------// // X - By a Hair // Story: Sunrise // by Winston //------------------------------// Sunrise ​    Chapter X - By a Hair ​    Winter Wheat sat across from Celestia and Luna, eating breakfast with the two sisters. The morning was pleasant, with the sun barely poking above the horizon and its light coming in through the window to cast a warm beam over their simple meal of toast and honey. “I’m glad to see you two looking better lately,” she said. “Oh, yes, we’re much better, thank you.” Luna nodded and looked at her toast with a satisfied smile. “Things are finally starting to go well.” Celestia also smiled, feeling an immense satisfaction being brought on by the sight of the rising sun after her successes during the night. “Yes, they—” Sudden knocking on the front door of the farmhouse cut her off. All three of them paused. Barely a second went by before the knocking repeated. It was loud, forceful, and insistent: the kind of knock that said it wasn’t a friend at the door. “Are you expecting anypony?” Celestia asked quietly. Winter Wheat immediately shook her head no. “Hmmm.” Celestia scrunched her muzzle. Her horn glowed momentarily with subtle rose light while she cast a quick scrying spell, looking just outside the front wall of the house. What she saw in the magical image it returned to her mind made her blood run cold. “Unicorns!” she gasped, eyes widening in fear, keeping her voice at a whisper. “One of them is Star Fire. There’s city guards with her!” “What?” Luna’s ears pricked up. “Why? What are they doing here?” “I don’t know!” Celestia’s voice was tense. She felt her breathing quicken, taking on a sudden edge of hazy near-panic. “Whatever it is, it can’t be good for us, can it?” Luna guessed. Celestia shook her head. “I really don’t think we want to find out.” She looked across the table. “Winter Wheat… I know this may seem strange, but we need a favor, and we need it now. The two of us aren’t here. We don’t live here. You haven’t seen me in months, not since before I moved in, and you’ve never seen Luna. In fact, you don’t even know who she is.” “Why? What’s going on?” Winter Wheat glanced at Celestia askance. “Are you in some sort of trouble?” More knocks thumped hard on the door, resounding through the farmhouse. “I’ll explain later!” Celestia said. “I promise I will. But we need your help right now, and there’s no time. Please?” “Umm…” Winter Wheat looked confused. “I… I guess if they don’t specifically mention you, I won’t say anything. Will they mention you?” “I don’t think they will. At least, I hope not. Will you help hide us?” Celestia pleaded. “As much as I can, without getting myself in trouble,” Winter Wheat said guardedly. More knocking hammered the door, growing ever angrier and faster paced. “Good enough! Thank you, that’s all I can ask.” Celestia looked at Luna. “In our room, quick!” Luna nodded and the two of them started walking hurriedly to the back of the house. Celestia, making a sudden realization after a couple steps, turned back for a moment and grabbed her and Luna’s breakfast plates. She used her magic to carry them with her to their room, leaving only Winter Wheat’s place-setting on the table. The second they were both in the room, Celestia carefully closed the door and did the only thing she could think of: she cast a soundproofing spell, replaying Clover’s trick at Chancellor Puddinghead’s office. As soon as she did, the noise of the knocking stopped, but the dead silence they were left in immediately made her realize the foible to this brilliant idea: just as much as the spell kept sound from leaving the room, it also kept it from coming in. They were effectively trapped with no way of knowing what was going on outside. Somepony could burst in at any second and they’d have no warning. The unintended effect struck her as a cruel irony; a spell which should have made her feel more hidden only cranked up her anxiety another couple notches. Neither of the sisters spoke for a brief time. “Well.” Luna flopped down on her bed, finally breaking the tense silence. “We’re in it now, aren’t we?” “I’m afraid so.” Celestia paced the room slowly. “I’m sorry, Luna. Whatever happens, if this turns out badly, I hope they at least go easy on you. I’ll… I’ll tell them it was all my idea. I’m the older sister. I misled you because you were naïve and didn’t know better. That’ll be our story. Just play along, alright?” She looked at her sister. Luna was young and innocent-looking, wasn’t she? Mostly grown, yes, but still just an apprentice, after all… past the cusp of being a mare in some ways, but still an impressionable filly in others. Or so Celestia desperately wanted herself to think Luna could be made to appear. She clung to straws of hope, trying to convince herself that even if her own horn was as good as cut off, maybe there was still a chance to buy some leniency for her little sister, if only— “Oh, come on.” Luna rolled her eyes. “They’ll never believe that load. I’m more than old enough to understand what I’m doing and we both know it.” The simple gust of reality blew down Celestia’s mental house of cards in an instant, forcing her to acknowledge her desperate folly for what it was. “I know,” she sighed, hanging her head. “Look on the bright side.” Luna picked up the toast off her plate and took a bite while she patted Celestia on the withers. “At least we still have breakfast.” ​    ☙ ☀ ❧     With her suddenly skittish tenants safely out of sight, Winter Wheat finally responded to the incessant angry knocking. She opened the front door a few inches, and a rushing blast of sub-zero dawn air instantly made her wish she hadn’t. Fighting through it, she looked outside and was unnerved to find herself facing a small crowd of unicorns. The closest one to her was tall, with a build that reminded her a little of Celestia, but with a pastel fuchsia coat and vibrant purple eyes. A second unicorn stood next to and slightly behind her, with a pink coat and a white mane that rolled in gentle waves. Both of them wore heavy winter cloaks. A half-dozen more flanked those two, wearing the intimidating armor of the city guard. They all looked identical except for little patches of coat color or small tufts of mane peeking out here and there. Winter Wheat couldn’t believe it. Eight unicorns at her door! She’d never even seen so many in one place before in her life. And the Quartz City Guard… it made her worry. Something must have caused a big commotion to bring them all the way out here, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be in the middle of whatever it was. She’d never heard anything good about situations that the Guard got involved in, not for earth ponies. “Can—” Winter Wheat’s voice cracked and caught in her suddenly very dry throat. She coughed. “Can I help you?” “For your sake, I sincerely hope so,” the unicorn with the striking purple eyes responded. Her voice and humorless face, framed by a violet and crimson-streaked pin-straight mane, matched the frosty wind outside. “I… I…” Winter Wheat’s jaw quivered and she found herself having trouble making it form coherent words. Heat in her ears and pulsing pressure in her head made her aware of just how unpleasantly fast her heart was beating. “…hope so too…” “Your name,” the unicorn demanded. “What is it?” “W– Winter Wheat, miss.” “I see.” The unicorn’s stony face softened, and she smiled, for just a second, just barely enough to give Winter Wheat the faint hope she might not really be as bad as her exterior seemed at first. “Winter Wheat, my name is Star Fire. I’m a mage with the Thaumosciences Authority.” She pointed to the other unicorn next to her, the pink one with the white mane. “This is Rose Quartz, one of my thaumites.” “Nice to meet you,” Winter Wheat offered. “I’m sure.” Star Fire brushed off the pleasantries. “Do you know why we’re here?” “No.” Winter Wheat shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t.” “To put it in succinct terms even a mud-pony might have some hope of understanding, I’ll simply say this: unusual magic, and a lot of it.” Winter Wheat was taken aback. “What about, umm… ‘unusual magic’?” Star Fire gave Winter Wheat an impatient glare. “Has there been any? Here on your farm?” Winter Wheat found herself at a loss. “…Should there have been?” “Do not be obtuse with me.” Star Fire’s eyes narrowed to a withering gaze and her voice rose a small but unmistakable bit. “Answer my questions plainly.” “I really don’t know!” Winter Wheat protested. “I mean, how would I?” “Hmmm.” Star Fire narrowed her eyes for a moment. “Point. How would you indeed? How about this: have there been any unicorns here recently?” “I, umm…” Tiny prickling drops of perspiration suddenly tingled on Winter Wheat’s skin, feeling like pinpricks of ice in the cold air. “It… that is, I’m not sure if… it’s sort of complica—” A growl of contempt from Star Fire cut off Winter Wheat’s hemming and hawing. “You are being useless and evasive! Clearly we’ll have to look for the answers ourselves. You wouldn’t object to us coming inside for a moment, would you?” “Well, no, I wouldn’t mind, except, it’s just, I’m really not ready for guests right now,” Winter Wheat said. “I’m about to start work.” “You can spare a few minutes,” Star Fire insisted. “I’m sure of that.” Winter Wheat took a deep breath and lifted her head, looking Star Fire in the eyes. She trembled like a leaf in the wind. “I. Said. No.” “I don’t believe it.” Star Fire smirked, looking half annoyed and half amused. “Are you really going to do this the hard way, earth pony?” Winter Wheat tried to put on as brave a face as she could. “You… you can’t just… barge in. You’re not a policemare.” Star Fire gave her an incredulous look, then glanced in an arc behind her at the half dozen armored forms. “They are,” she pointed out. “All six of them.” Winter Wheat cringed. “…Maybe, but still, don’t they need a… a warrant, or something, to make me let them in?” she tried. “What a good question.” Star Fire just shrugged and moved aside, motioning to one of the guards. “Why don’t we see what they think?” The nearest unicorn guard stepped forward. “I think you’re half right,” she said. Winter Wheat could tell it was a mare only by the sound of her voice from under the armor. “A search requires a warrant, or probable cause… and trying not to let us in makes me think you have something to hide, which is probable cause. You want to keep arguing, or do you want to make this easy on yourself? Just keep running your mouth. You’ll find out what we can make happen to you, mud pony. I’m telling you, if the mage wants to come in, she’s coming in, one way or another. Keep making it hard, and—” “And what?” A booming voice suddenly cut through the guard’s threats. Winter Wheat recognized the new voice, and the matching mane and tail of brilliant green curls and ringlets spilling from under a forest-green cloak as a form walked up from behind the group and pushed past the other unicorns. Clover moved through the crowd and situated herself in front of the door, facing the guard. “You’ll do what to her? Hmmm?” “Arrest her, to start with.” The guard raised her voice in anger. “And you too, for sticking your muzzle in it!” “Oh! You’ll arrest the Royal Cardinal Mage?” Clover asked, staring down the guard with fiery gold eyes. “Really? Is that what you think you’ll do?” “C– Cardinal Mage?” The guard stammered and flinched, backing away a step. She glanced at Star Fire. “We weren’t told a Cardinal would be here.” “What’s your name, guard?” Clover continued, seeming determined to drill right through the mare’s soul with her unblinking gaze. “I want to see your ID. Show me your badge.” The guard fell silent and looked around uncertainly, searching for a way to retreat. Star Fire stepped forward and smoothly interposed herself between Clover and the cowed guard. “That won’t really be necessary, will it, Cardinal?” she asked, her tone suddenly soft and conciliatory. “Perhaps this is all a… misunderstanding. I’m sure we can clear it up without anything dramatic, can’t we?” “Oh, I hope so,” Clover said. “Because I’d love to know what you think you’re doing here, Star Fire.” “A simple investigation, Cardinal,” Star Fire said, in a carefully neutral voice. “Nothing more.” “Why is it necessary to invade this poor pony’s home for a ‘simple investigation’?” Clover asked. “That doesn’t sound simple to me.” “Because there was an unidentified magic signature detected in this area,” Star Fire said. “For the sake of everypony’s safety, I was trying to be… thorough… in rooting out the cause.” “Unidentified magic?” Clover asked. “What, do you mean my long-distance teleportation experiments?” Star Fire’s eyes opened wide in puzzlement. “You’re conducting teleportation experiments out here?” “I am.” Clover nodded. “Which you are rather rudely interrupting at this very moment.” Star Fire tilted her head at a slight angle and looked at Clover dubiously. “Forgive me, Cardinal, but this hardly seems like a place a mage of your caliber would choose to work.” “On the contrary.” Clover smiled slightly. “Such a remote area, far from the city, with so much open space? It’s ideal for working on teleportation. That’s why I’ve leased the rights to use the land for magical experiments from my friend Winter Wheat here.” She pointed at the earth pony through the partly open door. “You know this earth pony?” Star Fire glanced at Winter Wheat. “Of course I do.” Clover nodded. “I just said I leased the right to run experiments on her farm, didn’t I?” “Curious.” Star Fire scowled. “Why was no one informed about these ‘experiments’ you’re running?” “Oh, pshhhh. Can you blame a mare for not wanting to fill out a pile of tedious paperwork?” Clover shrugged and waved in a dismissive gesture. “I wasn’t sure how much power would be used or that it would be so confusing to the detectors. Clearly it got a little out of hoof, and for that I’m sorry, but if the question had simply been asked reasonably, I would have explained. Instead, I see that for some reason you felt the need to poke at it without informing anypony higher up, and for a detachment of city guards to accompany you in looking into a minor event that shouldn’t merit this kind of heavy-hoofed response. Particularly not by an important mage such as yourself, who should no doubt be busy with many other more important things. Shouldn’t she?” Clover asked pointedly. “As I said, simply being thorough,” Star Fire replied, with a defensive glare. “Would you care to find yourself explaining to Princess Platinum why such thoroughness was a worthy use of the time of six city guards?” Clover asked. Star Fire blanched. “Surely that isn’t something requiring the attention of the Princess herself.” “Hmmm. Maybe not. I suppose that if no real incidents occurred, there’s no need for her to hear about anything,” Clover suggested. “I think you and these guards returning to the city quickly, without raising any further disturbances, would make this all very boring and unworthy of her time. Am I being understood here?” “Yes, Cardinal.” Star Fire nodded once. “I… believe the thaumodetection readings have been satisfactorily explained. We’ll be returning to the city immediately.” “Excellent.” Clover nodded back. “So that’s all settled, then.” “Seems to be.” Star Fire turned and started walking, signaling to the rest of her group to follow. “Good day, Cardinal.” Clover smiled dully. “Always a pleasure, Star Fire.” She watched Star Fire lead the group of unicorns away, trudging off in silence with her ears flat and her tail between her legs. ​    ☙ ☀ ❧     Celestia watched with a dull sense of unreal dread while the door latch slowly unhooked and started moving, manipulated from outside. For just a moment, she struggled in spite of herself not to giggle nervously. It reminded her of the contrived tension right before the jump-scare in cheap thriller novels, a scene out of some book far too pulpy to read with a straight face. Things never really happened this way. Did they? She was almost hyperventilating, her heart racing in her chest. The latch kept moving. This is it. They’re coming. She sprang to her hooves and jumped in front of Luna, shielding her sister behind her body and getting ready to take the brunt of the assault when the city guard breached the room. Adrenaline and fear shot through her, feeling like it made time slow down. She started readying a shield spell in her horn, barely even conscious of doing it. The door swung open a few inches, so slowly it was painful, wrenching her deep down in her stomach. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable. Any second now, they would— “You can come out now, girls,” a muffled voice came from the other side of the gap, partially able to break through the soundproofing now that the door wasn’t fully shut. “The coast is clear. Star Fire and her goons are gone.” “Cardinal Clover?!” It was the last pony Celestia expected to hear. She’d never felt so relieved so quickly, relaxing muscles she hadn’t even realized were tense. “Yes, it’s—” There was a pause while somepony used a spell to dissipate the soundproofing magic “—it’s me,” Clover finished, now much louder. Cautiously, Celestia peered around the partly open door. She was met by a pair of amused golden eyes staring back at her from under a mane of vivid green curly ringlets. “Oh, thank goodness.” She exhaled with a shaky voice and swung the door open the rest of the way open. “I thought we were done for.” “You would have been, if you hadn’t sent me a letter about your very interesting accomplishments.” Clover nodded. “Pretty lucky I decided to see your progress for myself and just barely showed up in time to handle Star Fire.” “Why did you need to ‘handle’ her?” Winter Wheat demanded, thrusting herself into the doorway between Clover and Celestia. She was shivering with fright, but when she looked back and forth between the two unicorns, fire blazed in her eyes. “Why was she even here? What kind of trouble are you three getting me into?!” “I… Ummm…” Celestia found herself tongue-tied. “…Guess we have some explaining to do…” “You’re damned right you do!” Winter Wheat yelled and stomped her forehoof. “I want to know why a Thaumosciences mage and a half-dozen city guards showed up at my door, about to force their way into my house. I want to know now!” All three of the unicorns standing around Winter Wheat looked shocked into embarrassed silence, uncomfortably fidgeting in her burning gaze. More than just embarrassed, Celestia realized she was at a total loss. This was new territory. She’d never seen Winter Wheat being anything other than mild-mannered and amiable, and certainly never like this: the way the earth pony’s chest quivered, barely holding herself together on the edge of frightened tears, even while her face held unbridled anger… And then a stark realization hit, stinging her conscience like a hard slap in the face. She realized why this gave them all such pause, and the reason filled her with deep, biting shame. It was because earth ponies had no right to dare raise grievances to their unicorn overlords this way. This kind of emotional response was reasonable enough for any pony considering what had just happened, but an earth pony failing to show the proper deference to unicorns was an unforgivable transgression. An earth pony yelling and demanding answers from unicorns wasn’t an earth pony knowing her place. Not knowing her place was incredibly dangerous for an earth pony in a world full of unicorns who could sometimes be liable to telekinetically wring the neck or snap the limbs of any ‘lesser creature’ they felt had slighted them. No, earth ponies were not free to do this, on pain of torture or death, and to drive one to such a point that it finally broke those deep-seated constraints of deferrence said a lot about how severely she’d been abused. As agonizing slow seconds rolled by, Celestia watched as Winter Wheat’s terrible dawning awareness of the situation overpowered her cooling anger. Winter suddenly caught herself, putting a foreleg over her mouth in horrified realization. “I’m sorry…” she mumbled, suddenly shrinking back with her face flushing. “I… I didn’t mean to…” “No.” Celestia reached out and touched her withers, stopping her. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. You’re right to feel the way you do, and to say what you did. You have the right to be angry. What we just did to you—what we’ve been doing to you all this time—we’re the ones who are wrong. Not you.” Crushing disappointment with herself washed through Celestia. Her thoughts seethed. She should have realized what they were doing. After what she and Luna and Clover had struggled with, she, of all ponies, should have seen it! Celestia’s heart sank, and she blinked down tears. I let myself become what I hated. Then a harder resolve started creeping in, steeling her back up. She looked at Clover, locking eyes for a moment. “I’m telling her.” “Telling her what?” Clover asked. “Everything. We have to make this right. She has the right to know what risks we’ve brought on her.” “That’s…” Looking taken aback, now it was Clover’s turn to be tongue-tied. “That’s not…” “We have to,” Celestia said, sweeping the protest aside. “We can’t treat her or anypony else like this. Not if we want the kind of better world we’ve been working for. What’s the point if it’s all just going to be the same? What’s the point if we’re just going to keep using ponies like this? Either everypony deserves better, or this is all for nothing. It’s up to us. We’re choosing, right here, right now.” Clover closed her eyes, then sighed and nodded. “Fine. Tell her, then.” “Tell me what?” Winter Wheat demanded. “Oh, where to even begin?” Celestia muttered, pondering. “Alright. You know I used to be a solarite, yes?” “A sun-mover?” Winter Wheat replied. “Sure, I remember you telling me that.” “Well, I suppose you could say I’ve taken it back up.” Celestia started slowly walking toward the chairs around the dining table. With things settling down and the adrenaline of her fright wearing off, she was getting tired and wanted to sit. “My focus in the experiments—the work we’ve been doing here—has been learning how to move the sun on my own. And Luna has been doing the same, with the moon. We’ve been trying for a long time. But yesterday… yesterday was a big day, because we both finally succeeded.” “But…” Winter Wheat looked confused while she and the other two unicorns followed Celestia to the dining area and sat down. “But the Unicorn Kingdom has big machines to do that, don’t they? I don’t understand, why would you…?” “That’s a good question.” Celestia nodded. “And that’s where this is going to get complicated. The simple version is because there’s no future for anypony if we don’t.” “I think you’d better make some sense out of this.” Winter Wheat frowned and crossed her forelegs in front of her. “Because I don’t get it.” “Alright.” Celestia nodded. “Let’s start with that mage you just saw, Star Fire. She’s an important part of this. I used to be one of the thaumites who worked for her. She had me doing a lot of climate research in the field, specifically how climate change is related to earth pony magical capacity. Remember when I used to come out here to the farm all the time, gathering data with you? That’s what I was working on. But then she shifted me to more directly investigating the mechanisms of earth pony magic itself. When that happened, she told me the real reason for what I was doing. It was to help eventually develop a synthetic version of earth pony magic, one that unicorns could use.” “Huh?” Winter Wheat blinked. “Why would a unicorn want to copy our magic? They could just ask us to use it. They always have.” “They’d copy it so that unicorns don’t need to ask earth ponies for anything anymore. Don’t you see?” Celestia sighed. “Unicorns control the sun and the moon. If they can take over growing food, too, they’ll have even more power. The idea is to try to be able to make up for trade shortfalls with the pegasi. At least that’s a short term goal. Long term, unicorns may just take over all farming completely. There’s a lot of pressure to do it, too, right now particularly, because with the world turning colder… every year’s getting worse… the truth is, they’re almost out of time to figure it out before it’s too late. It’s a crisis, and a crisis can be used as an excuse to seize opportunities that would normally require unacceptable methods. And if they seize this one, what it means for earth ponies is not good.” “Why? What does it mean?” “It means there won’t be any more earth ponies,” Celestia said bluntly. “Not if the Unicorn Kingdom has its way. Once they’ve completely reverse engineered how their magic works, the current idea is to secretly sterilize them. Let them die off naturally of old age with no new foals. In a few decades they’ll all be gone without so much as a fight.” “What?! No!” Winter Wheat was visibly shaken. “We’ve… we’ve always lived alongside unicorns! We’ve always done what they wanted! Why would the Kingdom do something like that to us?!” “I’m not sure.” Celestia shrugged. “Politics. Pragmatism. Desperation. A mix of all three. Ask Princess Platinum. She knew about this. She’s the one who wanted it. But I can tell you why Star Fire’s determined to be the one to deliver it: because it’ll mean a nice promotion for her.” “A promotion?” Winter Wheat looked aghast. “That’s all we’re worth to her?!” “I’m afraid so,” Clover spoke up. “I’ve known Star Fire a long time, unfortunately, and believe me, that’s the kind of pony she is, which is why she must never be allowed to have the kind of power she’s after. It’s why we’re going to stop her, and keep all of this from happening.” “How?” “That brings us back to why we’re learning to move the sun and moon,” Celestia said. “If we can take control of those, then we have the leverage we need to prevent it. We can ensure that earth ponies have a future somewhere, instead of having to face being silently wiped out.” “What do you mean ‘somewhere’?” Winter Wheat glanced at her askance. “What she means is that we believe there are still grasslands far in the South, closer to the equator, that would make excellent new settlements,” Luna said. “We understand that many ponies may not like leaving, but… the North is freezing. This land is dying. It’s clear at this point. Earth ponies—maybe all ponies—are going to die with it if somepony doesn’t do what it takes to find a new home somewhere else. South is our best chance.” “And you know this because…?” Luna stopped, looking suddenly unsure. “Because we both had a vision of it.” Celestia cleared her throat. “In a dream. I… I know that sounds ridiculous…” “You’re right, it does sound ridiculous,” Winter Wheat said flatly, shifting her crossed forelegs across her chest. “All of this sounds crazy.” “But it’s the only way,” Clover insisted. “Obviously we can’t just do nothing and let—” “No.” Celestia held up a hoof for silence. “It’s alright.” She turned back to Winter Wheat. “You’re right. This is crazy. We don’t have any non-crazy options left. But that doesn’t excuse what we’ve done. We’ve treated you… well, the way unicorns always treat earth ponies, like we’re entitled to use you for whatever we want. And I’m embarrassed. We’re so used to it I think we were all blind, but now we need to start seeing. What we’re doing is incredibly risky, and we should never have brought those risks on you without giving you a choice. It’s not fair. I’m truly sorry it took such a rude awakening from Star Fire to make me understand that.” “You can say that again,” Winter Wheat grumbled. “I’m so sorry, Winter Wheat,” Celestia said quietly, not quite able to look her in the eyes. “I actually thought I was your friend, but I realize I’ve been just about the furthest thing from one, haven’t I?” “I thought you were, too,” Winter Wheat hung her head sadly, “until now.” “Well, this has to change. We’ve put you in enough danger.” Celestia pushed back in her chair and stood up. “And the longer we stay, the more you’ll be in. We’ll leave. If we intend to start acting like true friends, that’s the best thing we can do for you now.” “I’ll draw up some paperwork to make my teleportation experiment story airtight.” Clover nodded. “I can handle Star Fire. You won’t need to worry about her. I’ll make sure she won’t be back.” “I sure hope not,” Winter Wheat said. Celestia looked at the other two unicorns. “Shall we?” Clover and Luna nodded wordlessly. The three of them stood up and Celestia led the way as they filed toward the shared bedroom, preparing to gather their few things and go. Winter Wheat stood and watched, unmoving, until they were halfway to the door. “Wait!” she finally cried, breaking the heavy, awkward silence in the house. Clover turned to look at her. “What?” “Look.” Winter Wheat closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “Just tell me one thing. Honestly. Is all this stuff true? Is the Unicorn Kingdom really going to do what you said to earth ponies?” “Unless we stop them, yes.” Clover nodded. “They’re trying, and they’ll probably succeed, sooner or later.” “And do you still need a place to work?” Winter Wheat asked. “Somewhere outside the city?” “We have most of the basics of our plan figured out, I think, but we could certainly use more time to refine and develop our abilities,” Celestia said. Luna nodded in agreement. Winter Wheat sighed. “…Then stay.” “Stay?” Celestia wrinkled her muzzle. “Stay.” Winter nodded. Celestia paused and cocked her head curiously. “Why would you let us?” “Look.” Winter Wheat rolled her eyes. “I may not be happy about what just happened, but I guess at least your heart is in the right place. And now that I know anyway, staying here instead of going somewhere else might keep somepony else from having to find out the hard way, right?” “You’re really willing to help us, even knowing how much of a risk you’d be taking?” Clover asked. “I can keep Star Fire from coming back in person, but as long as we’re here, she’ll do whatever she can to watch this place like a hawk. I’m sure of that.” Clover turned to Luna and Celestia. “Now that I think about it, this also puts us in even more of a time situation, unfortunately. She’ll be getting desperate, because ironically she almost certainly thinks I’m trying to beat her to the punch in unravelling earth pony magic. Probably thinks I want all the glory for myself, which will make her worried about being shut out of a promotion yet again. What other conclusion could she logically draw from the fact that I’m one of the few other Mages who knows about this plan, and that I snatched away one of the best thaumites working on earth pony magic research from right under her muzzle?” “Oh.” Luna half-closed one eye in thought. “I didn’t even think about that at first, but it makes sense. We’ll really have to race against her now, won’t we?” “Yes, and it’ll be narrow margins of error, all the way to the finish line.” Clover looked back at Winter Wheat. “You’re sure you want to chance going up against somepony like her? Not that I’m ungrateful for your help, but you need to know what we’re in for. I won’t deny for a second that Star Fire is conniving and dangerous and could still be the end of us all.” “Well, as scary as she is, I think I have to, because… because it’s not just for me!” Winter Wheat drew herself up, with the look of a pony trying to act braver than she felt. “It’s for the foals I want someday. They’ll never be born if I let the Unicorn Kingdom have their way, will they?” “Winter Wheat…” Celestia walked over and hugged her. “You’ll have those foals. I promise, we will not let the future be stolen from you – even if we have to move the heavens themselves.”