//------------------------------// // Brotherly Love // Story: The Heart's Promise // by MyHobby //------------------------------// Flurry Heart couldn’t move. For a moment of terror, darkness swirled in her vision, inky blackness that swallowed all light and sound in its sinister embrace. She opened her mouth to breath, but found herself gagged by the substance. A faint flash of purple scales reached her before all was reduced to void. She gasped awake, her oversized wings flaring at her sides. A crash of pencils and rustle of paper heralded her bags meeting the floor. She nearly joined them before catching herself on shaking forelegs. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light, and brought her wings close to her core to warm her sides. The halls of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns were dark, save for flickering lamplight at even intervals. For most of the students there, classes had ended for the day. A few distant laughs told her that some of the last cliques were headed for their evening rest. For Flurry Heart, on the other hand, her day was just beginning. A spell from her overly-long horn gathered her school supplies into her bags and fastened them to her back. She didn’t know exactly how long she’d been sleeping. She might be late. She had to hurry. Before she could take to the air on her wings, she ran face-first into the chest of Abacus Cinch, dean of the school. The old mare yelped in surprise, adjusting her glasses on her nose with a flicker of magic. “Just where do you think you’re going, young Miss Heart?” “I-I’m sorry, Miss Cinch.” Flurry Heart bowed at the neck, mostly to avoid direct eye contact. “I think I’m late to my class with Princess—” “Yes, you are.” Miss Cinch raised her head, looking down her nose at the young princess. “And just why do you think you are late?” Flurry swallowed hard. “I—I fell asleep—” “You fell asleep because you have not been getting enough rest the last few months.” Abacus’ voice grew just a little bit higher, just a little bit strained. “We’ve spoken about this, Flurry. You can’t let Celestia push you too far. Your lessons are important indeed, but your health is far more important. I’ve seen you studying until morning, just to get your homework done. It has to stop!” Flurry felt her face flush. She let her wings droop to the floor, getting dust on her pinions. “Nighttime is the only time she can teach me about the moon.” “Poppycock. Theory is a good enough place to start if—” Abacus Cinch stopped herself dead in her tracks, closing her eyes and turning her head to one side. Her frown softened as her ears drooped. “I know she can be demanding, and I also know how wonderful the lessons are. But still, you are only thirteen. A growing young mare. You shouldn’t have to shoulder such things as sleepless nights and exhausted days.” “My thoughts exactly.” Two ponies approached from down the hall. One was a gray-coated unicorn, somewhere in her fifties. Her mane had faded to a light gray, save for the healthy, purple stripes that ran through it. A pearl necklace sat ever-present beneath her equally-ubiquitous smile. “Grandma!” Flurry rushed to the mare’s embrace, burying her face in the mare’s soft coat. “I didn’t know you were coming to visit, Grandma Velvet!” “I’m here on Abacus’ recommendation, actually.” Twilight Velvet raised an eyebrow at the dean, and was met with a like expression. “I hear you haven’t been getting enough rest.” “Well…” Flurry’s right ear tilted down before she could command it to remain upright. “Well, I guess I’ve been… a little…” She registered the other newcomer at that moment, a moment too late. She looked up at the stately, ethereally-beautiful mare. A coat of pure white. A mane of pink interlaced with the most vibrant rainbows. Eyes that had seen a thousand years pass by, and lived to tell of it. A horn and wings that lay perfectly proportioned on her thin, tall body. Flurry Heart bowed more fully, bending at the knee. “High Princess Celestia. I’m sorry I missed our appointment.” Celestia’s expression rarely changed, in Flurry’s experience. She remained serene, with a small smile in place at all times, save for those when anger—righteous, sunlit fury—was called for. She would smile, though mostly only with Flurry’s younger siblings. She suspected even the princess’ laughter was carefully manufactured and practiced, meant more to set others at ease than to share true mirth. But today, for the second time in Flurry’s memory, she saw a deep-seated regret in the ancient alicorn. A level of remorse that only someone who had repeatedly made the same mistake could reach. Celestia sighed, her mask of serenity left off for the moment. “I understand it was not your fault, Flurry. The blame is my own.” Flurry held her tongue. She wanted to interrupt, to tell the High Princess not to worry, that she could do better next time. But if she had learned one thing from her time at the school, it was not to blurt out every thought that came to mind, not when someone older and wiser was speaking. And there were few older and wiser than Celestia. “I have… I wanted to…” Celestia shook her head and let out one of those manufactured laughs. “I have much that I wish to teach you, and in my excitement and haste I have left you overburdened. Please, you have earned a break from alicorn studies for the moment. I should have known better.” She looked to Abacus with a weary frown. “I have frustrated far too many of my personal students, over the years.” Flurry thought back to the stories she’d been told over the course of her childhood. Aunt Twilight Sparkle’s obsession that lead to the Lesson Zero chapter of her book. Sunset Shimmer’s rebellion. Even her mother had nearly worn herself to death trying to keep up with Celestia. She pressed her lips together; she didn’t think her tiredness quite matched the severity of those stories. If anything, she just needed to reschedule her day to better accommodate the lesson plan. Abacus Cinch lit the tip of her horn. A bright light flashed with an ear-splitting snap that broke Flurry out of her musings. “I see the gears turning, Miss Heart. You don’t think this necessary.” She glanced at Celestia, who nodded approval. “This may all seem a bit much, but we seek to stave off the issues present in all other apprentices Celestia has taken… that is, we wish to care for your mental health.” “That is why,” Twilight Velvet said, “you are coming home with me tonight. A home-cooked meal, a bed made with a grandmother’s touch, and a relaxing evening with no school worries. Are we clear?” “I mean…” Flurry Heart leaned against her grandma as she looked back at Abacus and Celestia. “That does sound great…” Furry Heart felt torn, to put it lightly. The events of the previous year had thrown into stark relief the dangers present in alicorn magic. She needed to learn to control them. She needed these lessons before she grew even more powerful. And yet… she was so tired. She wanted nothing more than to climb onto Grandma Velvet’s back and sleep until supper time. “It is important, Flurry.” Celestia’s regret found itself buried in a serene, reassuring expression. “I believe this rest will serve you well. A few days, or even weeks. As long as you need.” Flurry stared into that mask of serenity, and wanted so much to believe it was true. She wanted Celestia to feel real peace, to understand that Flurry’s absence was necessary and brief. But she could still see the urgency in Celestia’s eyes. She could still hear the reluctance in her voice. Celestia’s hoof rubbed the scar on her chest, absentmindedly. Flurry suspected she understood the urgency. “Alright. It sounds nice.” Flurry smiled up at Celestia with a smile she hoped looked guileless, lying that she was at peace with the decision. “I’ll be back to my lessons before we know it, refreshed and ready to go.” Celestia’s smile said that she saw the guile all the same. “Off you go, then. Have a good night, my most heartfelt student.” “Thank you, Princess Celestia.” Flurry Heart turned to walk alongside Twilight Velvet, her ears low. As they left the school, her spirits began to rise. It was only for a short time. It was like a vacation, staying with family and spending time on things besides school work. It was normal. “Not to spoil the surprise,” Twilight Velvet said as they walked under the roadside lamplight, nearing the Sparkle Family’s house, “but you’re not the only grandkid visiting us this week.” Flurry’s ears sprung upright. “My sibs?” Before she could take another step, she was assailed by a pegasus filly and unicorn colt, who surrounded her with hugs and laughter. “Flurry!” “Big Sis!” The filly, Twilight Amore, hovered over her big sister’s back and pushed her by the backpack. “Come on, sis! Grandpa Light’s waiting! We’re having grilled corn on the cob!” The colt, Silver Lance, trotted along behind them, his relatively-shorter legs pumping to keep up. “Don’t worry about the stress, Flurry. You’ll feel better after a couple days.” “How’d you know I was—?” Flurry stopped herself and rolled her eyes. Silver just tended to know things like that. It’s like her heart was an open book to him. “Thanks. I feel better knowing you guys are around. When did you get here?” “Cousin Blueblood just finished his vacation in the Crystal Empire.” Twilight Amore flew upside down and backwards to keep her eyes on Flurry. “We practically begged him and Cousin Fleur to fly us back. And then begged mom and dad for permission. And then begged Grandma and Grandpa to let us stay. After all that begging, I am well and thoroughly humbled.” Silver Lance smiled bright. “Jade says ‘Hi Flurry!’” Flurry giggled as she thought of little Jadeite Jasmine Blueblood. “She’s a cutie. Fleur says she speaks full sentences now.” “And she’s a sassy little thing, too.” Twilight Velvet opened the door to the house, and the smell of homemade food wafted in the air. Grilled corn on the cob, covered in melted butter and spices only Night Light could name for certain. Fizzy strawberry cordial drinks awaited on the table, which was lit with warm candlelight. Grandpa Light was just finishing setting the table as the crowd of youngsters rolled up. His high cheekbones gave his face a sharp look, but physical looks could not hide the true self beneath, that of a warmhearted father and grandfather who smiled as readily as he could breathe. “Welcome home, Flurry Heart.” Though she was exhausted, though the looming threat of the Unseelie Court lay in the shadows all around, though she feared even now of disappointing the wisest pony in the land, Flurry Heart felt herself find some semblance of ease amidst the smiling faces and familiar voices. Abacus Cinch scoffed at the ancient mare beside her. “Honestly, Celestia. I thought you’d learned your lesson. If Sunset Shimmer was not the last straw, I thought surely Twilight’s lapse in judgement would awaken you to the dangers of your teaching style!” High Princess Celestia of Equestria felt her age keenly. The assassination attempt had been merely the first blow in a series of humbling strikes that had gradually worn her down. First to go was her immortality, her heart destroyed by a spear hefted by a one-time mentor. Second was her strength, sacrificed to protect Cadence’s young ones from Ahuizotl’s acolytes. Third, her hopes for the future faded when she was forced to slay the only stallion she’d ever loved—at least, as a mare loves a stallion. Now, she felt a fourth pillar of her life crumbling beneath her. But she could not tell Abacus that. Not fully. She turned her practiced, serene expression upon her former student. She did not include the usual knowing smile, for such a show would fall flat for as shrewd a mare as Abacus Cinch. She decided to speak the truth, with certain elements omitted. “I have learned, Abby. I’ve learned to heed the advice of those around me.” “Then perhaps I should be candid more often!” Abacus huffed as she patrolled the school, locking doors and checking rooms as she went about her nightly rounds. She flashed Celestia a piercing glare over her small spectacles. “I worry you’re going to give the poor girl the same complex her mother has.” “I do, too.” Celestia furrowed her brow, gently rubbing the scar across her chest. “But Cadence only had me. Of course she’d want to emulate me. Flurry has a much bigger family. She has better mares to look to than me for inspiration.” That threw Abacus off, though she recovered quickly. A moment spent silent gave the both of them time to gather their thoughts. “Be that as it may…” Abacus’ harsh voice softened. Her expression eased. “You are both ageless alicorns, Celestia. You both have centuries to teach and learn. Couldn’t you take the lessons slower? Give her more time for herself?” Celestia let out a pained guffaw despite herself. “You really think I have centuries ahead of me?” “You’ll outlive me, at least.” Abacus Cinch leaned against the door to the potions lab. She stared across the hall out the window, which overlooked part of Canterlot and the mountain it sat upon. The city itself was lit with lights both magical and mundane, its nightlife having bloomed over the years until it was just as eventful as the daytime hours. Celestia sat beside her, her heart heavy and her mind overloaded. She wanted more than anything to unburden herself on her one-time student, who had become a greater teacher than she could hope to be. But there were things which could not be revealed… an attempt to avoid them could result in a more terrible fate than that which awaited them all. Perhaps one thought could be released into the air. “The Tree of Harmony has died.” “Already?” Abacus blinked in keen shock. She rubbed her forehead with a heavy sigh. “From what Professor Sunburst reported, I thought we had weeks. Not hours.” She returned her gaze to Celestia with a tremble in her lips. “What does this mean for us?” “That the search for the Elements must begin in earnest.” Celestia shook her head slowly, her throat constricted by a barrage of tears that threatened to flow. “Though I do not know how to find them. For that, we must rely on Twilight.” “If anybody can find the journal, it’s her.” Abacus’ ears perked up at the sound of approaching hoofsteps. She stood and faced the pony, who was a soldier in glistening golden armor. “Hello, Centurion.” Centurion Stonewall, Shining Armor’s successor as Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard, saluted Abacus Cinch without stopping her march. “Ma’am.” She came to Celestia and gave her a swift bow. “My lady, we have news from Solitaire. It isn’t good.” Celestia felt her mask slip away, and in its absence, a curse slipped out. “Rut.” Abacus slapped a hoof over her mouth and staggered back. “Celestia, I’ve never heard—!” “I’m sorry.” Celestia stood and nodded to Abacus. “You deserve better from me than such vulgarities.” She leaned closer to Stonewall and set her jaw. “Please, Centurion, continue.” Stonewall glanced at Abacus before continuing. “It’s been attacked. They’ve gone radio silent, and we suspect they’ve been completely overrun. All prisoners are considered free, armed, and dangerous.” She pulled a sheet of paper from the side of her armor and passed it to Celestia. “This is a transcript of the last transmission we received from them. It’s from one of the prisoners, Aspen the Alliterative of the Donkey Island of Lightning Gale.” “Aspen? What did he—?” Celestia scanned the document and found the answers quickly enough. “So. Silver Spoon. We have the name of a Siren.” Abacus pulled a face. “You trust this ‘Aspen’ fellow?” “He’s as trustworthy as any I’ve seen. He quite literally couldn’t lie to save his life.” Celestia folded the paper and pressed her lips together. “Have you begun the investigation yet?” “We’re already looking at several possible Silver Spoons.” Stonewall shook her head and spread her wings to show them to be empty. “It’s a surprisingly popular name among all three tribes. There’s even a young mare in Ponyville who is the fifteenth in her family to have the name.” “Keep this quiet.”Celestia said with a hiss. “Deathly quiet. The more ponies who know we are searching for a Silver Spoon, the better chance the Sirens have to find out about it.” Centurion Stonewall jutted out her chin in a small but keen show of defiance. “How are we supposed to hunt down these dastards if we can’t put out the dragnet?” “They’ve shown their hand, but only part of it.” Celestia approached the window and looked past Canterlot, past the edge of the mountain, to the wider world beyond. If she squinted, she could just seen the ocean on the east side of Equestria. “We don’t know what other cards they have, nor even the game they’re playing. We have several suspected agents under watch, but every time we charge in, they vanish like smoke.” She snapped a hoof against the ground. “Send a scouting force to investigate Solitaire tomorrow morning, but have them keep their distance. Have them enter the prison only if it’s empty. And be wary of traps.” Centurion Stonewall saluted and flew off, leaving Celestia to look over a night sky with her blood boiling. If her suspicions were right, the Sirens and their Unseelie Court allies had the makings of a full army. Between the remnants of Ahuizotl’s forces and the prisoners of Solitaire, alongside their own zealous converts, the scattered dregs of Equestria were a force to be reckoned with, even for Equestria’s military. Abacus Cinch quietly joined Celestia at the window, her face downcast, her ears drooping. She looked up at her princess with something between fear and awe in her eyes. “It is a rare sight indeed to see you battle-ready.” Celestia wished to return her expression to a cool, collected calm, but her face refused. She felt her muscles tense and her wings ache to take flight. “I’m sorry. These are hard times.” “Yes, and hard times brought us to this moment.” Abacus Cinch tore her eyes away and looked to the brilliantly bright moon overhead. “When I see you like this, I am reminded of the ancient Prophecy of the Alicorns, first spoken by Clover the Clever years before your birth… “‘I saw a pony with eyes of lightning. Her heart was hard and strong with a yearning for justice. She carried the sun on her right wing, and the moon on her left. Fire rained from heaven and consumed her enemies, and all trembled at the sight of her. “‘I saw a second pony with eyes of shadow. Her heart was merry, though encased in a prison of stone. She carried the moon on her right wing, and the sun on her left. Darkness was her enemy and constant companion, but she would not surrender.’” Celestia shut her eyes, hoping to shut out the words that had driven her purpose and existence for the entirety of her young life. “Clover said that the prophesy did not speak of my sister and I. We failed to live up to it, time and time again.” “Perhaps.” Abacus walked away from Celestia, possibly headed home for a well-deserved rest. “If that is the case, then you are a type and shadow of the two true alicorns. I can’t help but think of fire and justice when I think of you.” Silence descended like a muffler over the ears. Celestia remained in the empty corridor, the shadows dancing around her in the flickering lanternlight. She stared into one lantern, watching how the flame burned the fuel in a merry little dance. “Fire and justice… Is that my legacy? Fire and justice, trembling and fear, and death and destruction. Fated to fight until I die. And then fight all the harder.” She breathed a soft sob and finally let a tear trickle down her cheek. “A force of nature, the Creator’s sword. A cold heart that stood alone. Even my peace was forged in flame…” The corridor was quiet, leaving her unanswered. High Princess Celestia of Equestria, One-Time Mover of the Moon and Setter of the Sun, walked slowly and haltingly towards her mountaintop castle. She felt as ancient as the stones that lay beneath her hooves. “Is this all that remains of me?” In Ponyville, a lone figure left the local bar, keeping a low profile. He was a stranger to town, though he’d grown up nearby. He’d just spent the evening learning what he could of the state of the city in recent years. He had barely managed to learn what he had without revealing his identity. The memories of the locals were long and vengeful. The side-mounted bag he carried was light, but filled with a weight that was not merely physical. It dragged his shoulders towards the ground and swirled agony in his stomach. He was so confused; why was he the one it was left with? He who was left with nothing. There was only one person who he could go to. Only one person who would not turn him away. He had to find Button Mash. Button Mash and Sweetie Belle walked out of Sugarcube Corner, their bellies full and their hearts warmed. At least, that’s the impression Sweetie got when she saw the smile on her dear friend’s face. The weight of before had lightened. The frustration had faded. The light shone from his lovely brown eyes, both clever and kind. Pound Cake waved at them as he locked up the front door of the snack shop. “Come by anytime, guys! I’m gonna help with one of your shows if it’s the last thing I do!” “I appreciate that!” Button said with a laugh. “Trust me, there’s plenty to do.” Button set about fastening his cart to his torso, his voice quiet for the moment. Sweetie helped him with the harder-to-reach straps, her horn glimmering dimly in the moonlight. A faint pressure built up at the base of her horn, but she ignored it for the sake of the moment. “So… what are you going to do with the story, if they won’t let you play it at the café?” “Find somewhere else, I guess… Or just drop it completely.” Button twisted his muzzle to one side as he looked back at his mobile theater. “What’s the difference between giving up and moving on?” Sweetie thought about that for a moment, patting her curls just beneath her ear. “How noble the task is, I guess. And how much peace it’ll give you to end it.” “So that’s a ‘no’ twice over.” He gave her a rueful smile. “River’s story will be told, one of these days. I just gotta wait for the right opportunity.” They exchanged a soft kiss, and he spoke in a hushed voice. “You’re headed home, right?” “Right. I’ve got an evening planned with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.” He nodded, but did not pull away. Not just yet. “Be careful. I’ll walk you home if—” “You live clear on the other side of the city.” She bopped his nose with a hoof. “And you’ve got your own appointments to keep. The boys aren’t gonna stop teasing you if they have to wait for you to unlock your house again.” “I just…” The warmth of his smile fell ill to a chill both their hearts shared. “Remember…” “I do, too.” She pulled off her frameless glasses and dabbed at her eye, which stung ever-so-slightly. “I’ll be careful. I promise.” She rested a hoof on his chest. “If you promise, too.” “Of course.” A final kiss signaled their parting, going their separate ways with not a few glances behind them, until each of them faded from the other’s sight. “Yacht!” Scootaloo rolled the dice with her wings vibrating with excitement. “Come on, gimme them sweet, sweet points!” Three aces, a four, and a deuce greeted her eyes, which fell in dismay. Yacht Dice was the name of the game for the night, having just beaten out Eats, Shoots, and Leaves for priority. Partially a game of chance, partially a game of light strategy; excitement rose each time the dice were thrown. Apple Bloom had described it as poker with dice, but Sweetie didn’t know the first thing about poker, and was unable to verify. Apple Bloom reclined on a couch, looking over her scorecard with the air of a ruthless mafia don. “Already marked off your aces, didn’tcha?” Scootaloo groaned and buried her head in her hooves. Apple Bloom leaned forward as her grin grew even smarmier. “Already used up your ‘chance,’ didn’tcha?” Scootaloo hid beneath her purple wings, glaring daggers at the dice that had just betrayed her. Apple Bloom craned her neck over to Scootaloo’s spot with a mirthful malevolence rarely seen in the young mare. “Already crossed off your ‘Three of a Kind,’ didn’tcha?” Sweetie Belle watched the battle of wills from a short distance, in a fortress constructed from the billowing, fluffy robe she was swaddled in. She reclined on one of the couches in her living room just beside the crackling fireplace. A couple of lanterns filled the room with enough light to read their scorecards, while an open package of marshmallows and sticks lay beside the warm flames. She sipped a tea and smiled as she unwound from the bustle of the day. Scootaloo scornfully crossed off her chance for a Yacht and fifty extra points. “Alright, mighty Queen of Chance, let’s see you do better.” Apple Bloom scooped up the dice and rattled them around in a cup. She stuck her tongue out of one side of her mouth, concentrating with her entire being. Scootaloo smirked mightily. “Think you’re just gonna will the Yacht into existence, huh?” “Give it a sec.” Apple Bloom rattled the dice to the tune of a familiar song, often sung by Apple Family members during long trips. She released them into the wild and allowed them to fall where they may. “Three aces, a four, and a six.” “Oh wow,” Scootaloo said, puckering her lips. “Three points in aces, how very—” “Thirty-eight points.” Apple Bloom scrawled a three at the top of the card with a mouth-held pencil. “If’n you count the bonus points I just earned for completin’ the top section.” Scootaloo’s eyes ran over the length of Apple Bloom’s card, doing the math in her head and not quite liking the sum of it all. “Welp, that’s me out of the running.” She narrowed her eyes at the towering earth pony mare across from her. “Et tu, Bloom?” Without leaving her seat, Apple Bloom was able to scoop Scootaloo in a hug with her long legs. “Aw, it’s all good, Scoots! You’ll get ’em next time… if’n you ain’t so quick to ditch anythin’ that ain’t five of a kind.” Sweetie Belle gathered the dice with a glint of magic and gave them a firm shake. Her hand wasn’t bad, a full house, but still left her without a hoof to stand on against Apple Bloom’s nearly full card. “I must also concede. Thank you for the game, ladies.” Scootaloo returned the hug with Bloom, though not without softly chucking her under the chin. “Yeah, great fun all around!” With a snicker she added, “You lucky bum.” Sweetie glanced at the clock and found it to be a late hour, but not so late that bed was called for. “Are you two spending the night? I hope so, since we need to fit a dress to you both tomorrow.” “Eh?” Scootaloo hovered in midair, cleaning up the game as she floated. “What’s wrong with the dresses you’ve already made us?” “Nothing is wrong.” Sweetie glanced over the top of her rimless lenses. “But far be it from me to miss an opportunity to drape my dearest friends in finery when they’ve been invited to a public event the likes of the christening of a new city.” “There’s business sense to it, too.” Apple Bloom stuck a marshmallow on a stick and held it in front of the fire. “Showin’ off her talents to high society and suchlike.” Sweetie grumbled at the thought of monetizing her friends’ beauty, but nodded all the same. “It’s true enough. And I couldn’t ask for better models.” She held back a yawn with a hoof and procured herself a marshmallow on a stick. “Speaking of businesses, when are you opening yours, Apple Bloom?” Apple Bloom pursed her lips, keeping silent for a long moment. Sweetie was about to speak again—to either apologize or to press the issue, she wasn’t sure—when Apple Bloom let out a forced laugh. “I dunno, guys. I can’t rightly open up a potions shop when Applejack still thinks I’m gonna live on the farm the rest of my life.” “You still haven’t talked to her?” Scootaloo leaned on Apple Bloom’s broad shoulders, leaning her relatively meager weight on her friend. “Dude, the longer you wait, the harder it’s gonna be! At least give her some breathing room to get used to the idea before you move out.” “That’s the thing…” Apple Bloom tilted her head and lifted her burning marshmallow out of the fire. “What if I just… tell her I’m leavin’ and go? Rip the bandage off and scoot out before she can get mad about it.” “You mean run away and leave her mad without explaining yourself?” Scootaloo lay down on Apple Bloom’s back and kicked her hind legs in the air. She raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a real good way to ruin the relationship forever, if you ask me.” Sweetie Belle spread her forelegs out while Apple Bloom watched her treat burn. “Who’s to say she even gets mad? She’s one of the most down-to-earth ponies I’ve ever met. Rational and friendly—” “Except where the farm is concerned.” Appel Bloom blew the fire out and chomped the marshmallow without a second thought. “You know I’m right.” Scootaloo’s ears drooped. “Yeah. She does tend to freak out whenever… the farm changes…” “It’s gonna be the same as the day Granny Smith passed away.” Apple Bloom lowered her head and stared at the crackling flames, idly licking marshmallow fluff from her chin. “And I just… I don’t wanna put her through that. I don’t want her to think I’m just leavin’. It’s just…” She looked at her cutie mark, that of an apple blossom in full bloom, with two buds beside it. “There’s somethin’ else I wanna do with my life. ’Cuz the day I discovered my mark, the whole world opened up.” The front door shook from the force of someone knocking. Scootaloo’s eyes shot open as she shot into the air. “You expecting late-night visitors?” Sweetie’s blood ran cold. The last time they’d had someone show up this late at night was when Dr. Caballeron and his assistants, Kiln and Rhombus, had kidnapped her and Scootaloo. Now, rational or not, she felt the same dread and fear as she’d felt that night. Cornered and unable to fight back. Precautions had been taken. She walked carefully up to a small device on her wall, a miniature periscope, and peered through. A series of mirrors carried the image of the visitor to her eyes. He was an earth pony stallion, with a sandy mane and a caramel-brown coat. An ice-cream sundae could be seen in his cutie mark. He wore a heavy, hooded coat, but Sweetie had grown up with him. He was instantly recognizable. Especially after what he’d done about six years ago. Apple Bloom hovered behind Sweetie Belle, hefting a metal baseball bat. “What do you see, Sweetie? Are you in danger?” Scootaloo hovered beside the window, ready to either pull the curtains closed or open it for a quick escape. “W-who is it?” Sweetie Belle frowned deeply. Why was he even here? He hadn’t even come back town since he’d become an adult. He’d managed to burn every bridge she could think of. “I don’t think we’re in danger, but… don’t put down the bat.” Apple Bloom nodded, affirming her grip on the handle and giving it a practice swing. “It’s…” Sweetie hesitated one last time before turning to Scootaloo with tired eyes. “It’s Lickety Split.” “What the hell does he want?” Scootaloo’s demeanor turned from shivering to boiling in the blink of an eye. Her voice rose to a level that sent shocks of adrenaline down Sweetie’s spine. “What the actual hell does—?” Without an outlet for her blood pressure, she settled for kicking the mostly-empty bag of marshmallows. “Tell him to go r—” The knock sounded again. Sweetie Belle fastened her green gemstone necklace, one meant to stifle her inborn powers of song. She cinched up her robe tighter and gestured for the two of them to follow. Apple Bloom marched with heavy footsteps, while the seething Scootaloo kept her distance both horizontally and vertically. Sweetie put her hoof to the handle and gave it a tug. Lickety Split was a handsome fellow, she had to admit. She might have been biased, considering her choice in boyfriend, but she imagined that warm eyes must have run in the family. “Lickety Split. What brings you back to Ponyville?” He glanced at her from beneath a heavy brow, one that appeared to be doing some deep thinking. His eyes turned back down when he caught sight of Apple Bloom with her bat. “Hi, Sweetie. Apple Bloom. Does that mean—” He looked past them and caught sight of the death-rays Scootaloo was shooting at him. “Hi, Scootaloo. Been a while.” “Not long enough, you rat.” “Yeah, I hear yah.” He sighed from his nose, kicking his hoof against the welcome mat. “Look, I won’t bother you too long. Is Button home?” “Probably.” Sweetie narrowed her eyes and inched a little closer to Apple Bloom. “Why are you asking me?” “Aren’t you two dating?” He tilted his head as if she’d just said he was a diamond dog. “I heard you’d been going steady for the last—what?—seven months?” “Eight.” She wrinkled her nose, growing more confused by the minute. “What? You think he lives here?” He rolled his eyes, turning away from the door. “That’s why I’m here. It’s not like I wanna reopen old wounds.” “Old wounds!” Scootaloo landed right in his face and shoved him in the shoulders. “You callin’ me a scab? You callin’ me a scar? I’m the one whose heart you left bleeding on the side of the road, horseapples-for-brains! But I guess I was just girl number two, wasn’t I? Huh?” “What do you want me to say?” he snapped. “You’d never accept an apology!” “Maybe I don’t want you to apologize!” she growled. “Maybe I want you to drop dead!” Sweetie raised a hoof to clamp Scootaloo’s mouth shut. “Scootaloo! How dare you say such a thing?” Scootaloo shut her eyes, allowing tears to trickle out. She backed away and lowered her head. A soft breath nearly turned into a sob before she found her voice. “Yeah. That’s too far. You’re right.” She rubbed her nose with a strong right hoof. “I don’t need your apology. My life’s better than ever since you left. You met my boyfriend? Name’s Rumble. Taller than you, cooler than you, handsomer than you? Ring a bell?” Lickety gritted his teeth and pulled a bag higher up on his back. “Listen… I just want to find Button. It’s important and… and I can’t go home. I can’t face my parents. So if you could just…” He trailed off, not looking at any of them, apparently not even confident enough to speak anymore. His ears lay low against the top of his head. His hooves looked scuffed from long days spent travelling. His eyes were sunken and surrounded with black circles. Despite herself, despite knowing what kind of person he was, despite the shambles he’d left both Scootaloo and Button in when he’d left six years ago… She felt something stir in her heart. A little mixture of pity and mourning. Pity for what he’d become, mourning for what he could have been. The weight of the hearts he’d broken, the mares he’d cheated on, had dragged him through the dirt. Justice, in many ponies’ eyes. She pointed down the road towards Town Square, past the fountain and the commercial district. “He has a small house on the other side of town. He just bought it about a year ago after finally saving up enough to move out.” She furrowed her brow. “We’re not moving in together unless we decide to get married.” “Didn’t know anybody did that anymore. Cute. Old-fashioned.” Lickety Split laughed once, though you couldn’t tell from looking at his face. “Just like my little bro to be a hopeless romantic like that.” He turned to walk away, but paused mid-step. He held himself there a moment longer before looking back at Scootaloo. “For what it’s worth, I know I was a scumbag. You deserved better than me.” Scootaloo flew back inside with a huff. “Just get out of my life.” Apple Bloom let the bat clank against her hoof. “Keep your nose clean, Split. Ain’t many more mares you can charm around these parts.” “I noticed, thanks.” Lickety Split walked off into the night, a great weight dragging his shoulders down, like chains clasped around his fetlocks. Sweetie watched him go a little longer than she intended. She saw a lot of Button in the young stallion before her. His face had a similar shape. His eyes had a similar intensity and curiosity. Even his ears shared a family resemblance that made Sweetie draw lines between them in her head. It was as if she was watching Button slouch his way through Ponyville, after having been gone for many years. Beaten by the world. Abandoned by his friends. Ashamed to face his family. Justice, in a sense. Poetic justice. Sweetie closed the door on the outside world. It would be a much less merry night going forward, she knew, but maybe, just maybe, some healing could occur. At the very least, Scootaloo needed her friends right now. Button Mash smiled faintly as his character was pulverized by Snips’. It was a familiar scene for him: Snips would get inside his guard, combo him with a series of hits that Button could anticipate but not react to, and then send him flying off the edge of the screen. The illusion spells that made up the game flashed and pulsed with light as Button’s hopes and dreams were swallowed up in a blaze of fire and a loud voice calling “Game!” Button dropped his controller next to Pipsqueak and leaned back in his couch. “Yep. I’d expect no less from Ponyville’s resident fighting game champion.” They were in his home, a humble little three-room ordeal on the edge of the commercial district, not too far from the edge of Ponyville. Just a few meters down the way, the road led north out of the city and towards either Canterlot or Fillidelphia. The front door led directly to his kitchen, which had a table with four chairs around it. The only other two rooms were his bathroom, which was completely and utterly unremarkable, and his bedroom, which was where he and his buddies were spending their evening. Pipsqueak—Pip to his friends—took up his controller with the air of a knight taking up his sword for a hopeless battle. “A day may come when Snips is not an equine death machine, when his inputs fail him and his controller loses power. But that day is not today.” Rumble rested on the bed behind the couch, peering over their heads at the screen and awaiting his turn. He gave Snips a smirk. “I’ve faced sergeants in basic training, Centurion Stonewall’s attitude, and Dr. Caballeron himself, and you’re still the scariest thing I’ve ever had to fight.” “Alright, alright, chill out guys!” Snips waved a hoof dismissively, gleefully soaking up the praise both sincere and feigned. “I’m not even that good. You guys just suck.” Button Mash stretched his forelegs upward and staggered his way upright. He made his way to the kitchen, scratching his neck along the way. “Anybody want a snack? I have popcorn and chips.” Pip cycled through characters, giving his opponent a sidelong glance as he compared his chances against Snips’ main. “They’re called ‘crisps,’ first of all, and I’ll take a bowlful.” Rumble tapped his chin. “Makes sense to me. You can’t chip a potato, but you can fry it up crispy.” Button set the bowls on the countertop and pulled out the bag of goodies. He glanced over his shoulder at the shelves arranged around his room. Each one was full of marionette puppets, all carved by himself and enchanted to move with Dinky’s knowhow. Each one had held a starring role in his stories and shows. Each one held a special place in his heart. Including the six changelings who made up the first Bearers of the Elements of Harmony. He lit his stove and set a pot on the burner to warm up his serving of popcorn. He hurried back to give Pip his chips, and to watch the strong, short stallion lose his first match. He glanced up at the bearers again, taking note of how he’d painted the Elements of Harmony on their necklaces. He’d need to touch up Generosity—the purple was peeling. Rumble caught his attention with a flap of his wing. “Hay, it Spike gonna be here tonight? I haven’t talked with him yet.” “Not tonight, unfortunately.” Button gestured in the general direction of the Everfree Forest. “He said he had a mission with Princess Twilight that he couldn’t miss. He might be able to join up next time.” “Dang. Not sure if I’ll be able to make it then.” Rumble rested his chin on crossed forelegs. “Guard work is tough, you know? We get breaks, sure, but they’re rare enough it feels like a holiday every time.” He tilted his eyebrows upward. “And with all the trouble the Sirens and fairies are giving us, leave is becoming harder and harder to come by.” “Fairies?” Snips chuckled as he figuratively ground Pip’s nose into the dirt. “You mean the tiny sparkly ponies? The cutesy little critters with magic dust in their wings and brains the size of a pinhead?” “Those are breezies, you uncouth ninny.” Pipsqueak dodged a heavy attack and managed to land a single solid hit on Snips. “And their brains are actually rather large for their size.” Button’s ear twitched as his corn began to pop like miniature fireworks. “Fairies like the ones in my stories, Snips. Like the Lord of the Sky, or Shadowfright, or… what was the guy’s name, Rumble? The one who kidnapped Fluttershy last year.” Rumble gritted his teeth in a humorless grin. “Not really sure if I can share anything or if it’s all classified.” “Oh come on.” Snips looked away from the screen, and was still giving Pipsqueak a hard time. “You gotta be able to tell us something. I get national security, but I’d like some idea about what exactly I’m supposed to be scared stiff of.” Pip watched his character, a feisty little dragon by the name of Kiryu, breath fire to no avail against Battlefight the Minotaur Lord. He rested his controller in one hoof and scooped up a bite of chips with the other. “Between you and me, I heard Pound Cake talk about it once or twice. It sounded like the fairy’s name was Yolk. Whether that means an egg yolk, a farmer’s yoke, or something else, I cannot say.” Button Mash’s eyes went from the bearers to the puppets he’d made for the antagonists of his tales. The largest and most intricate puppet was that of the Lord of the Sky, the King of the Unseelie Court of Fae. The first being to attempt to take control of the entire world and wrestle it beneath his iron fist. Few stories existed about this creature, save that he was the one who moved the sun and the moon in the days before his attempted dominion of all sapient creatures. It was he who River and her friends defeated with the Elements of Harmony, bringing about the end of the First Age. “If the fairies are really coming back,” Button said in a hushed voice, “we need the Elements of Harmony to even stand a chance.” Pipsqueak winced as his character was punted off the battlefield, courtesy of Snips’ oversized axe. He passed the controller to Rumble in the hopes he would have better success. “From what I’ve heard around town, the fairies have been back for years. They’ve just been hidden, biding their time. We can blame them for Nightmare Moon, Tirek, and any number of other horrors.” “No horseapples?” Snips blew a breath through his lips. He passed his controller to Pip so he and Rumble could have a match together. “Sign me up for a popcorn, Button. I’m starting to feel those cold shivers you guys’ve been talking about.” “Oh, good,” Pip said as he selected a breezie warrior from the roster. “Horse sense can be taught.” Button turned his head at a knock on the front door. He frowned. He hadn’t really been expecting other visitors, and it was far too late for polite company. He shared a glance with Rumble, who passed his controller to Snips. “Unless Spike changed his mind, I don’t know who that could be.” “Lemme at ’em,” Rumble said, his powerful muscles flexing. “I’m scarier than half the ponies in this town.” Snips snickered. “And the other half are related to Applejack.” Pip furrowed his brow as the previously-even match devolved into him watching Snips’ perfect button inputs. “Do be careful. Ponyville isn’t as friendly of late.” Rumble walked up to the door with held breath. He flashed Button a grin, somewhere between guarded and sincere, and pulled the handle. Neither of them expected the pony on the other side, and neither really knew what to say. Lickety Split, Button’s older brother, took a step back at the sight of Rumble. He flashed the tall pegasus an uneasy grin and tucked his tail between his legs. “Oh. Sorry, Button. Didn’t know you had company.” He pulled his dark hood from his head and glanced between the imposing stallion and his younger brother. “I—um—I have something to talk to you about.” With a nervous nod to Rumble, he added, “I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t important.” Button recovered first. He moved forward without thought, pushing Rumble aside and stepping onto his front patio. He and Lickety Split were the same height now; when Split had left, Button was still a head shorter than his older brother. Button looked his sibling over. He was thinner than Button, nearly scrawny, as if he’d never eaten a good meal in his life. His coat was dirty, and his mane was disheveled and overgrown. Lickety looked away. “I don’t mean to bother y—” Button Mash lurched forward and wrapped his brother in a tight hug. Tears welled up behind his eyes as his throat grew tight. He had begun to think that he’d never see his brother again. Ever since that night, when his deeds had been exposed to the entire town. When it was revealed that Lickety Split had been dating multiple ponies at once, lying to them all. It was a series of horrible decisions, brought about by a mind that Button couldn’t quite understand. It was as if Lickety had been addicted to the house of cards he’d built his life into, unable to stop even when it spun out of control. Even when he’d realized how much he’d been hurting people, and how alone he’d been left. He had run away, and most ponies were happy for it. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” Button choked out. He gave Lickety some breathing room, but still held on to his older brother’s shoulders. He led him inside, past Rumble, who was torn between confusion and subsurface anger. “I don’t have much, but you’re welcome to it. Popcorn? Maybe a sandwich? You look like you need a sandwich.” “I ate, thanks.” Lickety looked at the open bedroom door, where Pip and Snips’ game had been forgotten by all present. “Pip… squeak. Snips. Is Snails around?” “He, uh…” Snips swallowed the lump in his throat with no small amount of effort. “He sorta… drifted away from us. After you left.” “Oh.” Split sat at the table and let his bag fall to the floor. “I get it. Yeah.” The chair next to Lickety Split’s scraped against the floor as Rumble lowered his weight into it, sitting close to Split’s side. The big stallion said nothing, content as he was to simply watch the new visitor closely. Too closely. “You should visit home,” Button said, breaking the uneasy peace with his warbling voice. “Mom and Dad are still worried sick about you. If you just—” “Nobody can know I’m in town.” Split rested his hooves together, leaning his muzzle against them. “It’s better that way.” “Look, bro, you’ve been missing for six years.” Button took a seat opposite his older brother and clapped his hooves against the table top. “Some people wanna know you’re doing okay. Some people wanna know that you’re even alive!” “I’m not back, Button.” Lickety Split sat for a moment, his eye continuously downcast, opening his mouth with a faint stutter as he searched for the words. “I’m not. I can’t face Mom and Dad again. Not after that. I didn’t… I didn’t even want these guys to know, but…” He shook his head and swallowed hard. “Listen to me. I’m only here because I literally don’t know where else to go.” Rumble slapped a hoof against the table top, causing both Split and Button to flinch. “You just got welcomed back with open arms. Literally. Accept that Button still loves you or get the heck out of here.” Split’s hooves shook. “It’s not that simple.” “Then let’s make it simple,” Button said, a deep pit opening up in his chest. He felt his elation sinking further and further into shadow as he watched his brother. This moment so long in coming, the time when Lickety Split could come back and rejoin his family, and it was nothing more than a facade. “Even if nobody else welcomes you back, even if nobody else sees you as worth knowing, you still have me, and Mom, and Dad. You owe it to them to say hi.” “I owe it to them to stay well enough away.” Before Button could argue, Lickety pulled his pack onto the table. He held it in both forehooves and took a deep, shuddering breath. He looked Button right in the eye and held his gaze. Button saw true fear behind his glare, the type Button himself had felt while staring down Ahuizotl. “Please, just listen. This is important.” Button leaned back in his chair with a sigh that felt like he was bleeding from the chest. “Alright. Alright, Split. Do what you need to do.” Lickety Split licked his lips and slowly unzipped the bag. He pulled the lip aside and reached in, his hoof trembling. He sucked in a breath when he contacted the object. When he pulled it out, Button Mash could only drop his jaw. It was a hoof-sized gemstone, cut with facets clean and even. If he looked closely, he could see etchings running through the interior, to indicate it was enchanted. But unlike any enchantment Button had seen in his life, the layers of this gemstone’s etchings ran up and down, around in spirals, back and forth in an array that seemed impossible to map out or plan. The gem glowed from within with a light brighter than even the powerful pommel stone Button had seen on King Andean’s sword Euroclydon. It shimmered a soft pink, which warmed his heart even as his blood ran cold. “An old mare stopped me on the road.” Lickety Split held it out to him, looking as though he were ready to vomit. “She said I would know what to do with it. Then, she just… she vanished. Obviously I had no idea what to do with it. I was hoping you would.” Button began to reach for it, but snatched his hoof back before he could take it. There was no way. And yet, the evidence was unmistakable. The other guys gathered around the table, looking over Button’s shoulders or looming behind him. Their faces were bathed in its majestic light. Lickety Split took in a shaking breath. “Is this… what I think it is?” Button held his head in his forelegs, unable to take his eyes from the gemstone. “Split… this is Kindness.”