Stained Glass

by Admiral Biscuit

Chapter 2

Stained Glass
Chapter 2
Admiral Biscuit

“I don't get why they can't keep Commander Hurricane's windows in the palace,” Rainbow grumbled. “It's really big, and there are lots of rooms with windows that just have clear glass in them. It doesn't seem like it would be that much effort to replace them with stained glass windows.”

“There would be far too many, even with all the windows in the palace.” Twilight followed a familiar path through Canterlot. Their friends had stuck with them until they’d reached Donut Joe’s, then they'd parted ways.

“How many famous ponies are there anyway?” Rainbow half-closed her eyes in contemplation. “Six in the pageant. Maybe a dozen really famous Wonderbolts . . . so, like, there shouldn't be more than forty or so ponies worthy of a stained glass window.”

Twilight chuckled softly, thinking of all the ponies who'd never made their mark on a history book and were nevertheless memorialized on a window. However, it was one thing to simply say so—and Rainbow would likely scoff if she did—and yet another to let her see it for herself, so Twilight changed subjects. “You'd be surprised. On your mental quick list, did you think to include Daring Do?”

Rainbow dropped down next to Twilight. “Are you saying that Daring Do has a stained glass window?”

Twilight nodded. “She’s on a window.” Admittedly, it was a stretch: the window primarily depicted Daring's grandparents. But their foals and grandfoals were included in the border, and—as Rainbow would say—that totally counted.

She couldn't wait to see the look on Rainbow's face when she examined that particular window.

On their way, Twilight hesitated once, uncertain which street the museum was on. She solved the dilemma not by thinking, but by going on instinct: she’d never turned before passing the apothecary, she remembered as they walked by its windows.

Her smile faltered as the museum drew into view. It wasn't as big as she'd remembered. It didn’t seem likely that it had shrunk in the intervening years, so it could only be a matter of time passing and her growing up.

It was hard to put into words what the building meant to her. As a filly, she'd never consciously noticed the trace of sadness on Princess Celestia's face as they toured the building together, and yet, she'd been aware of it.

It vaguely reminded her of the old photo album that her grandparents had flipped through one Hearth's Warming—the last that her great grand-uncle had been alive. The paintings and grainy sepia-toned photographs hadn't really meant much to her, but her grandfather had treated the album with great reverence. In some way, this was a scrapbook for Celestia.

Rainbow drew her out of her thoughts. "Is this it?"

Twilight nodded. "The pegasus hallway is in the center." It was in the center because it was the shortest. Most pegasi had little use for stained glass windows in their cloud cities, so it was rare that they commissioned a piece for themselves.

Nevertheless, there were many windows that had been donated to the Castle of the Two Sisters, and later the palace in Canterlot.

Perhaps that was one of the lessons that Princess Celestia had been trying to teach Twilight so many years ago. Perhaps one of the earliest proofs of unification had been when the first earth pony created a window memorializing a pegasus who she'd particularly admired, in contrast to the windows which the old unicorn nobles had demanded as tribute.

“Hmm.” Rainbow looked at the building. “It looks kind of like a library. Are you sure this is the right place? Aren’t museums supposed to have old bones in front of them or something?”

“I'm sure.” Twilight walked up the sidewalk to the marble stairs, their treads worn down from generations of ponies making the same journey. “And it is kind of like a library. Before literacy was common, pictures and stained glass windows told some of the history of Equestria, and the tradition continued—even now, when almost every foal learns to read in school, new stained glass windows are still made to honor and to teach. And to inspire.”

Twilight held the door open for Rainbow, and then followed the pegasus into the lobby. “Now, there’s a hallway for each of the three tribes, and the windows are generally arranged from oldest to newest, unless the oldest window isn’t ‘aesthetically pleasing.’”

“Oldest to newest, got it. So Commander Hurricane's windows ought to be right in the very front, right?”

“Yes; in fact, two of them flank the entryway.” She went through the lobby with sure steps. She might not have easily remembered the way here, but now that she was inside the entire museum was coming back to her. “It's the hallway right down there, next to—“

Twilight sighed. Rainbow, unsurprisingly, had zipped off as soon as she had a direction, and perhaps that was for the best. She wasn't going to gallop after her; no doubt Rainbow could read the plaques and figure it out for herself.

When Twilight arrived at the alcove, Rainbow pointed accusingly at the window. “How come they made Commander Hurricane a dude? And the plaque says so, too. Somepony made a mistake.”

“Nopony made a mistake,” Twilight said. “Commander Hurricane was a stallion.”

“But in the pageant, I played Commander Hurricane. I'm not a stallion.”

“The theatre has a long history of mares playing stallion's roles in plays. Besides, the pageant isn't about historical accuracy.”

“Stallions aren't as awesome as mares.” Rainbow scowled at the window. “It says that she—that he—joined a treaty with the earth ponies.”

Twilight nodded.

“Against the unicorns.”

“Yes, Rainbow, against the unicorns. That was back before unification, when the three tribes were fighting. Surely you remember the pageant, where the unicorns demanded tribute for bringing the sun, and the pegasi demanded tribute for bringing the weather— ”

“Yeah, yeah, of course I do.” Rainbow looked back at the window. “Did he win? I bet he won. He founded Pegasopolis.”

“He was a brash pony, and he never would have been anything but a hothead if it hadn't been for the war. But he had a gift of taking risks that paid off for him in the end, no matter how foolhardy they seemed at first.”

Rainbow grinned. “So you're saying that rushing in without thinking is a smart thing to do?”

Twilight’s ears flattened. “Sometimes boldness succeeds where caution fails,” she admitted.

“Ha!” Rainbow looked down the hallway stretching out in front of them. “Are there more with Commander Hurricane?”

“He was one of the founders of modern Equestria. Of course there are more windows with Commander Hurricane.” At her words, Rainbow started flying down the hall, but was stopped short by Twilight's field around her tail. “He has more windows than you do, so don't go flying down the hallway in an attempt to count them. This is a museum, not a race track.”

“Sorry, Mom.” Rainbow landed on the ground in front of Twilight.

I do sound like my Mom. “Would you rather tour at your own pace?”

Rainbow flicked her tail, and then shook her head. “I guess . . . you know more about these windows than just what the little plaques say, right? So it would be faster for you to just tell me about them.”

Twilight grinned. “On your left, right through the entryway, is a window honoring the founding of Pegasopolis.”

“Where is it now? I know about Cloudsdale and Las Pegasus and Stratusburg—”

Celestia chuckled. “Pegasi aren't tied to the land the same way earth ponies and unicorns are, so as the city grew, eventually they all got tired of living together and started splitting up to explore and live in new lands. Nopony could agree which fraction got to be called Pegasopolis, so they decided that they would give their new cities new names.”

“That's sad.”

“Is it?” Princess Celestia smiled. “I rather thought it was a nice idea. New cities for new ponies, with no ties to the past. They didn't have to try and live up to what Commander Hurricane had created; they could start fresh and build their new cities in the way they wanted. Some things, Twilight, should remain the same. There should always be touchstones to the past, because that's where we came from. But they should not be millstones—sometimes ponies need to move on, to try something new and different, and I think that the pegasi lead us as often as not.”

“But they're so hot-headed!”

“Quick to anger and quick to forget. Some say that the pegasi were born from the sea, and their temperament reflects it.” She moved to the next window. “This window depicts General Firefly, who founded not only the Wonderbolts, but also what would become the Royal Guard. After— ponies got together and formed the E.U.P, which was meant to guard me.”

“Guard you? You don’t need guards.”

Princess Celestia beamed down at her. “Those were different times, Twilight. Ponies didn’t all get along, so they formed the E.U.P., which was the first unified Guard. Before that, they were split along tribal lines.

“On the celebration of the first year of peace, the very best pegasi put on an airshow for everypony.” She moved down the hallway, tilting her head towards a window showing a cluster of pegasi flying above a crowd of ponies.

As Twilight moved, the ‘sky’ in the window glittered with energy. She frowned and lit her horn—that wasn’t a magical effect she’d seen before. “How come there isn’t any magic doing that?”

“The greatest artisans rarely reveal their secrets,” Princess Celestia said. “General Firefly named her new flight team the Wonderbolts, because of the magical lightning their performance had caused.”

“The Wonderbolts donated most of these windows,” Twilight said. “They used to be at the flight barracks, so that recruits could learn about the history of the team.”

“If they spent more time flying, they wouldn’t have to learn history.”

“Yes, they would, because it’s important. The Protective Pony Platoons were unified, made up of all three tribes, but the Wonderbolts were pegasi-only.”

“Well, duh.” Rainbow looked over at Twilight. “Earth ponies and unicorns can’t fly.” She poked a hoof at Twilight’s back. “No wings.”

“There are spells, you know.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

“Believe me, I know. Best Young Flier in Equestria!”

Twilight rolled her eyes.

“Okay, how come it’s important?”

“We learned that Equestria does the best if all three tribes work together.”

Rainbow nodded. “That’s, like, the whole point of the pageant.”

“But it’s also important that each tribe does what they do best, even if that seems paradoxical.” Twilight pointed to the window depicting the Wonderbolts showering the crowd with magical lightning. “I can’t fly, and you can’t cast spells. We’re strongest when we work together and embrace what makes us special.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Rainbow looked at the window again, flying up so that she could get a closer look at the glass faces of the original Wonderbolts.

“You said that Daring Do had her own window.”

“I said that she was on a window.” Twilight pointed to a small circle along the border. “Her family has been one of the pegasus dynasties since the early days of Equestria. She’s related to Commander Purple Dart, you know. Her parents commissioned this window for the Wonderbolts training camp, and then it was eventually moved here after Spitfire became the captain.”

Rainbow nodded absently. Her eyes had been drawn to one particular face. “Is that—”

“Yes.”

“They’re related?”

“They’re sisters.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“What’s in here?” Twilight pointed down a short corridor. “The map just says that it’s a memorial.”

Princess Celestia nodded. “Not all ponies are famous enough to have windows made in their honor, and yet we would not be standing here today if it were not for their sacrifices. This room honors all the ponies who have died in service to the Crown.”

“Can we go in?”

For a moment, Twilight was sure that she’d said something wrong. Princess Celestia didn’t answer her right away. She shifted around on her hooves nervously. She’d read the entire tour guide, and it had mentioned this room. Even if it hadn’t—Princess Celestia must know it was here. She knew everything.

Twilight risked a glance back at her mentor. Princess Celestia had a distant look on her face, like her Mom got sometimes when she was distracted.

“Princess?”

A gentle smile reappeared on Princess Celestia’s face. “I’m sorry, Twilight. Of course we can go in.” Her golden aura touched the doors, and they swung open.

A small part of Twilight’s mind had expected this to be some sort of secret, hidden room, despite it being plainly mentioned in the tour guide and the pamphlet.

The stone walls were rough hewn, old and weatherworn, much darker than the stones that made up the rest of the museum. And the windows that let the light in, they were old, too. She’d seen enough of the museum to be able to tell by the design and the colors of the glass.

Natural sunlight poured through them, its light richer and more complex than the enchanted crystals.

More than anything, her focus was drawn to the plinth below each window. Each one contained a thick book.

“Go ahead,” Princess Celestia urged.

She moved out of the doorway, in case more ponies wanted to come into the room, but she moved no further than was necessary, her eyes taking in the room, trying to understand it, and why it felt so much older than the rest of the museum. It felt timeless.

Twilight was barely tall enough to see the book, even when she just stood on her hind hooves. She wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to take the book off its pedestal and examine it on the floor, especially with Princess Celestia standing right behind her.

She opened the cover and dedication page, and was confronted with a list of names and dates, all in Princess Celestia’s hornwriting. Row upon row, page upon page, name upon name.

Rainbow hesitated in front of the door. “Memorial Room? What’s that?”

“Not all ponies are famous enough to have windows made in their honor.”

The room was just as she’d remembered. Natural light filtered through the windows, spreading their colors across the floor and across the books that sat reverently atop the marble plinths.

Rainbow took one step into the room and then paused, studying the plinths with their thick books atop. “Pegasi are under the window with the clouds.”

The pegasus nodded and moved slowly across the room, her hooffalls echoing around the otherwise silent chamber.

Twilight gave her space.

She thought about King Sombra and the crystal ponies. She thought about her crystal prison, and wondered how close it had been to being a crystal tomb. It wasn’t too hard to imagine her parents standing below the unicorn window, reading her name in the book.

How many new pages had been added since the last time she’d visited?

She watched Rainbow turn through the pages, skimming over name after name, date after date. She knew that some of the entries simply ended unknown, and those must have been the hardest for the Princess to write.

“Starshine was in the book.” Rainbow said softly. “She was the last entry.”

“Did you know her?”

“She worked on the coast. A typhoon came in, and . . . they never found her.

“I try not to think about it too much, and I won’t have anypony do something that I wouldn’t do. Because otherwise I couldn’t deal with it. I’ve got to be bold, or nopony else on the team will have confidence, but if I’m too bold, somepony will do something stupid, and get themselves hurt, or . . . it’s a lot easier when it’s just me. I know me. I know what I can do.” Rainbow scuffed a hoof across the pavement. “I don’t think the other girls would have understood it right.”

“No.”

“Maybe Applejack would.” Rainbow glanced up at the tall spires of the castle. “It must be hard, thinking every day that everything you say and do will affect somepony, maybe somepony you’ve never met, and never will.”

“I don’t think I could do it,” Twilight admitted.

“Sure you could. Hey, Twilight? I’m gonna sound like a total egghead, but next time when we’re in Canterlot, let’s look at one of the other corridors, okay?”

“I’d like that.”

“I still can’t believe Commander Hurricane was a guy.” Rainbow lifted off and did a little loop in the air.