“It is an easy thing to say you have saved the world. It is quite another to do it.”
“Oh, we've saved the world, beardo. And we can do it again.”
- Starswirl the Bearded and Rainbow Dash
100 EoH
Rainbow Dash was very unsuccessfully trying to sleep. She’d been invited out to Rainbow Falls that day, as she was once or twice a year, to demo for the new Wonderbolt recruits. Never mind that she was technically retired. Never mind that she technically had obligations in Canterlot. She was sure nopony had missed her, probably, and showing the new kids how to really soar was a whole lot more fun than working up new flight patterns with Land Breeze and Mistral. Mistral, especially, had the humor and temperament of a damp rock.
She shuddered thinking about the hours she might have spent locked in a room with the dour old hippogriff pouring over flight charts and terrain maps. Nope! She was glad she’d escaped that fate. Land Breeze was twice as clever as she was anyway, so they didn’t really need her. She rubbed the back of her head and sighed, unsure why the two of them always insisted she be part of meetings like that.
Now she was lying on her back atop a small and particularly soft cumulus cloud above Ponyville, counting the stars, and trying not to think about how easy and unsatisfying the maneuvers she’d pulled that afternoon were. She could have pushed herself much harder, but it wouldn’t have been very entertaining for the new recruits to sit there and watch a blurry swatch of blue paint flicker across the sky in barely recognizable patterns. It had been hard to pull back though. She wanted to go faster. Something primal screamed at her to go faster, yearned for it. Sure, it was dangerous, but that was half the fun.
Maybe Land Breeze and Mistral just wanted to spend some more time with you before you leave them? She groaned at the traitorous thought and rolled over on her cloud. It had been several years since Twilight put her little guard together, and with each passing month, it had made more and more sense to both of them for Rainbow to be in charge of the whole operation instead of working almost exclusively with the Canterlot Royal Guard, as she had for decades now. It had taken some time to find a replacement for her, but today had been the day, her last day. Tomorrow, it was back to Ponyville fulltime to oversee a whole batch of new creatures she barely knew. A small batch, admittedly. Not even two hundred creatures strong. And wouldn’t that be a nice change of pace.
She still wasn’t sure what the point was though. Rarity and Pinkie Pie were, at that very moment, on their way home from successfully stopping a renegade dragon lord from enslaving a bunch of innocent creatures and setting up his own little enclave on Griffonstone’s eastern borders. They’d done it by themselves, easily, and from what she’d gathered from their correspondence to Spike, it had required no little amount of ‘fisticuffs’, as Rarity liked to put it. What was the point of a Ponyville Guard when two of her friends could dust a group of adult dragons with no more effort than it took Rainbow to clear the sky? It seemed a bit like a waste of time and resources to her, but Twilight was the egghead. If she said she needed them, Rainbow had to assume she knew what she was talking about.
She rolled over again, trying her best to get comfortable, but just as she was beginning to doze off, she saw something strange. Somepony was watching her, or at least, they were looking up in her direction. She was high enough up that only another pegasus should have been able to easily spot her, but the perpetrator looked like a unicorn. Well, she wasn’t about to let some creep ogle her in the middle of the night, no matter what kind of pony they were.
She dropped from her cloud into a freefall and didn’t pull up until right before she hit the ground. “Hey, what’s the big idea?” she yelled at the clearly startled unicorn. Rather than back off, however, he just grinned at her.
“Well now, if it isn’t Commander Rainbow Dash. I thought I saw something moving up there. Wasn’t expecting a national hero though.”
“Captain Shield?”
“In the flesh, Ma’am.” The captain looked very pleased with himself, and Rainbow was feeling rather embarrassed about having not only assumed the worst, but also for mistaking him for a ruffian after having recommended him to Twilight.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” she asked. “I know you’re running drills tomorrow. It’s the first time I’ll be supervising, and I don’t want to have to clean what’s left of you off of Twilight’s shiny new parade grounds because you were too tired to pay attention.”
“Ah well, you know how it is, Commander. Nerves. I’m excited to be here and want to make a good impression on the Princess. Maybe it’s making my nights a bit restless.”
Rainbow did know how it was, but she wasn’t about to let on. “Didn’t take you for the jittery type, Captain. I remember you being cool as a cucumber last year when we had to clean out that hydra infestation in the Everfree.”
“Yeah, that’s fair, but hydras are a sight less intimidating than Princess Twilight.” His face grew contemplative, and in the dark the effect was rather somber. “I saw her when we were out in the wastes, you know, descending from the heavens, wings like fire, death erupting from her horn with enough force to level mountains. That scared the shit out of me, Commander. No fib.”
Rainbow hid a frown behind her biggest and cockiest grin. “It scared those changelings a lot worse, I promise you that. Plus, you idiot, it’s not like you’re going to have to fight Twilight. Can you imagine? It’s just you and a bunch of blowhards running drills and trying to show her how studly and useful you are. You’ll be fine.”
Winter raised an eyebrow and presented her with a much too smarmy smile. “So,” he said, “you think I’m studly? What would the missus think if she heard you say that?”
Rainbow wrinkled her nose in mock disgust and punched Winter on the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. “Just be happy she isn’t here, or she’d tell you. Come on. I know for a fact that Berry’s is still open. Let’s grab something to drink. Who knows, it might help you sleep.”
-
A shadow stayed still, pressed up against the wall of a small house and holding his breath until long after the Element of Loyalty and the unimportant unicorn she’d been speaking to had left. That had been too close. After making sure no other creatures were about and liable to spot him, he took a deep breath and crawled into the dark crevices underneath a ridiculous building that looked like a cross between a circus tent and a merry-go-round for children. The dark places were his home, but this part always hurt. He smiled to himself. All the pain in the world would be worth it in the end when he was exalted above all others. Outside on the street, an orb of magenta magic floated by, undisturbed and unaware.
-
Sunlight crept quietly into Twilight’s study, catching motes of dust in sleepy pale rays. A small section of window, propped open by a pair of silver calipers, gave entry to a cool and gentle breeze that tasted of freshly cut grass and lingering morning dew. A large cup of tea–bergamot and lavender–sat steaming next to a pile of financial documents on her desk, and Twilight herself was busy reading through a report on newly hired kitchen staff. It was the kind of report Starlight would have normally handled, but she liked to keep an ear to the ground. It was her castle, after all.
Paracelsus, her owl, was cleaning remnants of flesh from the bones of a small rodent. A shrew maybe, or a field mouse. Most owls would have swallowed the creature hole, but Paracelsus was particular about his meals. In fact, she was surprised that he’d settled for a rodent at all. He usually only ate fish and spurned even those if they didn’t measure up to his exacting standards. He was a little snooty, for sure, but that hardly bothered Twilight.
“What do you think, Paracelsus?” she asked, tossing her report to the side. The morning was too nice, and she felt too restless to focus. She needed to stretch her legs and get away from her desk. The thought made her chuckle, and she doubted Starlight would believe she’d come to it on her own.
The owl looked up from his pile of bones and cocked his head to one side. He was a large and beautiful bird, big enough to lift a filly off the ground if he wanted to. He was clever too, for an owl at least. Clever enough that visitors sometimes felt uneasy around him. Twilight found this silly. He was a calm and reserved creature, and for all his odd magnificence, still only an owl.
“Should I take the day off?”
Paracelsus puffed his breast feathers and cooed approvingly before returning to his meal. If it was up to him, Twilight thought, they’d never do any work at all. She’d never had an owl that slept as much as him, and she’d had quite a few.
She stood up, straightened her disheveled hair with a quick application of magic, and snatched her cloak and, begrudgingly, her glasses from the chair she’d left them on the night before. She poured her tea into a travel cup and stepped out into the empty antechamber of her study. She never held audience there–or in her study for that matter–so the place saw almost no traffic aside from Starlight, Strawberry, Kerning, Spike, and the girls. Not that they visited this part of the castle much. Starlight more than anypony else, but Twilight had made it quite clear she needed someplace just for herself. Neither Discord nor Rarity had quite seemed to catch on though, which was maybe understandable considering their natures.
Except Discord had caught on. Her steps slowed until she was standing still in the empty chamber, staring at nothing. Discord hadn’t actually dropped in unannounced for several years now, hadn’t re-arranged her books in “reverse order of color”, or swapped all the covers onto books that contradicted the title as much as possible, or replaced her telescope with binoculars, or changed her astronomical clock so it showed the moon in the sun’s place and vice-versa… but that was her own fault, wasn’t it? Twilight couldn’t blame him. Wouldn’t she have done the same? She shook her head and took a deep breath. She had plans and no time for self-flagellating contemplations. She pushed the thoughts aside and left her chambers.
The castle hallways were buzzing with activity, even at this early hour. Applejack had once told her the place felt more like a beehive than a castle, and the metaphor was both apt and comfortable. The fact that none of the passing creatures paid her any more attention than was necessary for a quick nod of respect–that they all had tasks to attend to and were following elegantly crafted schedules–it felt right and proper to Twilight, like a machine whose parts were all operating in perfect unison.
Perfect was perhaps too strong a word. Not an hour passed by without some minor crisis rearing its disruptive head, but for the most part, Spike, Starlight, Strawberry, and Kerning were more than capable of putting out any fires less serious than those of a world ending nature.
Aside from expanding to house her new staff–adding rooms, barracks, and a frankly unnecessary number of kitchens–the castle also seemed more than willing to accommodate Twilight’s personal wants and desires. As she walked, she passed entire wings dedicated to housing her massive and still growing collection of literature. One wing held several labs filled with equipment for chemistry and physics experiments, and another had five entire lecture halls devoted to math, philosophy, and the natural sciences. The School of Friendship was good for teaching, well, friendship and, to be fair, now also offered a comprehensive elementary education, but the castle was the premier destination in Equestria for advanced scholarship.
Because of this, and because of her penchant for order, Twilight maintained strict rules regarding the use of these facilities. Primarily, her personal kitchen was still only hers, accessible only by Twilight, Spike—though these days he couldn’t actually fit through the door—Starlight, and the rest of the girls. In addition, her personal libraries only permitted those same individuals and, by necessity, Discord. Though, Twilight wasn’t entirely sure she could have kept him out even if she’d tried. Pinkie’s lessons necessitated a safe space, and the library was as good as any, with its myriad protective spells and incantations. Her personal labs, the study, and a few other locations all had physical barricades, magical protections, and carefully maintained visitation lists as well.
The visitation lists extended to the public spaces as well and usually only included castle staff, the citizenry of Ponyville–she was their princess after all–, and visiting scholars and dignitaries. Though the last group was subject to a vetting process and required approval from Starlight or herself. All in all, it was her castle, in function as well as name. She chuckled and recalled a young and inexperienced alicorn who’d once wished desperately for a chance to play her part.
“Eat your heart out,” she whispered to herself.
“We don’t speak to ourselves in public,” Starlight said, stepping out from a hallway to join Twilight as she reached the stairs leading down to the castle foyer. “It frightens the staff.” She was followed by Strawberry, who was hiding a grin behind her clipboard.
“Aha aha, Starlight. Very funny.”
The old mare was wearing a purple, pinstriped, double breasted jacket embroidered with the symbol of her office. The outfit came with a hat too, but Starlight never wore it. Twilight tried not to think about how loosely the jacket seemed to fit her, and how thin and frail she looked standing in it, but as always, her thoughts betrayed her.
“Good morning, Princess,” Strawberry said, interjecting before Starlight could respond. “You have a busy schedule today. I took the liberty of writing it down and was on my way to deliver it to your study.” She held up her clipboard to demonstrate.
Starlight frowned and shook her head. “You could have just sent it with a valet. It’s a schedule, not confidential correspondence.”
“Since the Princess continues to refuse bringing even a token bodyguard with her during the day, I think it’s best to keep knowledge of her whereabouts at least somewhat restricted. The castle staff are prone to wagging tongues.”
Twilight and Starlight both chuckled and the latter rolled her eyes. “If you had your way,” she said, “Twilight would be surrounded by a full honor guard everywhere she went, heralded by trumpets, and be draped in more finery than a Saddle Arabian prince.”
“That’s an exaggeration, and you well know it, Mistress. But there’s nothing wrong with a bit of pomp and circumstance. Especially when it’s expected. The other princesses are always accompanied by their guards, and they wear at least their crowns, collars, and horseshoes wherever they go. No offense,” Strawberry continued, now directing her words at Twilight, “but this pauper princess image you’ve cultivated might be popular in Ponyville, but need I remind you of the frankly slanderous gossip that flies about the court in Canterlot?”
Twilight laughed at that. The day she started caring what the overweening dignitaries in Celestia and Luna’s court thought of her was the day she retired her crown. As large as Canterlot was, she was still constantly amazed that it contained so much misplaced ego and snobbery. Besides, wearing her cape as she now was, she hardly looked like a pauper. Strawberry blushed but didn’t back down.
“It is only proper.”
“Come now,” Starlight said, grinning, “I’m sure there’s plenty to keep us occupied on that to-do list of yours.”
“Actually,” Twilight said, adjusting her glasses, “I’m taking the day off. Well, some of it anyway.”
Strawberry’s frown grew deeper, but Starlight perked up.
“Oh? That’s not very Twilight of you.”
Sometimes, Twilight thought, having one of your longest and closest friends serve as the head of your household wasn’t worth the constant ribbing, but other times, it was a tremendous comfort. Today, the comment found her in a good mood.
“Paracelsus convinced me,” she said, giggling at Starlight and Strawberry’s expressions. “I was thinking I’d take a stroll around Ponyville. Maybe eat out for once. It’s been a while, after all.”
“Well, I’m not going to complain about that,” Starlight said, “but let me fetch my parasol first. It may be a cool morning, but that’s never stopped the sun from being a menace before.”
Strawberry sighed fatalistically, but soon enough, Starlight had fetched her parasol–a myrtle green lace-covered thing–and the three of them were on their way.
“Where exactly are we going?” Strawberry asked as they stepped out of the castle gates into the early morning mist, or at least the wispy remnants that still clung to the ground here and there in defiance of Celestia’s morning. It certainly made for a pretty and invigorating scene.
Twilight’s stomach rumbled loudly in response. “I think towards breakfast.”
Starlight looked at Twilight and chewed her lip. “Not to start an argument, but if you really are just planning to walk around Ponyville willy-nilly, Strawberry might have a point. You could at least bring one guard. Maybe give one of the new ones something to do. That changeling Cercus or Captain Winter Shield both seem like they might relish the opportunity.”
Twilight shot her a flat look. “At the risk of sounding arrogant, what is a guard or two going to do for me that I can’t do for myself, other than attract attention.”
“Oh, yes, you’re right. Princess Twilight Sparkle casually trotting around town isn’t going to attract any attention at all. You could at least cast a glamour on yourself.”
“Starlight, honestly,” Twilight said, slightly frustrated, “it’s Ponyville. I don’t know why you’re so worried some ne’er-do-well is going to stab me if I’m not watched over like a child. I promise, I’ll be fine.”
Starlight snorted at that. “Did you just use the phrase ne’er-do-well unironically?” she asked, eyebrow raised. Twilight blushed but wasn’t about to give Starlight the satisfaction of backtracking.
“So what if I did? It’s a perfectly acceptable phrase.”
“Maybe for a vapid damsel in one of Rarity’s detective novels.” Starlight was clearly straining to keep herself from laughing. Twilight was about to deliver what she felt was a very scathing retort when she heard Strawberry laughing behind her. Perhaps it was a silly phrase. She held her tongue, sure that any protest would be turned against her, then sighed and shook her head.
“Aww. Is somepony being sighful today?” Starlight said, patting Twilight on the shoulder.
“If I’m not mistaken,” Strawberry said, “sighful isn’t really a word.”
“Actually,” Twilight answered, ignoring Starlight and relishing the opportunity to share an interesting fact, “language is ever changing, and prescriptivist attitudes towards vocabularies and grammar are not only antiquated but also not very helpful. It’s incredibly interesting, really. So long as a meaningful number of a conversation’s participants understand what a word means, given the context of the situation, the word may be considered real.” She smiled and nodded, proud of her little lecture. “Isn’t that a liberating thought?”
Starlight laughed at that, and Strawberry shook her head, clearly amused with Twilight’s response.
“It doesn’t really matter,” Starlight said, age having done nothing to reduce her smugness, “because I assure you that sighful is very much a real word.”
“Hmpf, I guess we’ll see when we get back to the castle and a dictionary,” Strawberry said. Twilight bit her lip and did her best to refrain from telling the young unicorn that Starlight was right. All her decades as a princess had taught her that nopony liked being wrong, no matter how sensible the correcting party’s argument was. It was a silly affectation of silly ponies, in her opinion.
The path into Ponyville from the Castle of Friendship ran alongside the train tracks from Canterlot. They both crossed over a dam near the castle, then snaked south back towards the river and the town. The road to Ponyville split off there while the train tracks crossed over the river again and passed through a large tunnel in the cliffside before entering Ponyville proper.
Twilight didn’t often walk to town, but when she did, she was reminded that it hadn’t always been this way. The fact that her presence had literally reshaped the very land itself–most often in quick bursts of unwelcome cataclysmic change–was humbling. Of course, she was very seldom directly responsible, but the reanimated spirit of Grogar hadn’t attacked Ponyville just because he felt like it. Neither had any of the other magical calamities that frequently beset the town done so by happenstance.
As they neared the town, Twilight spotted one of her sentry orbs in the grass next to Sugar Beet’s house. It was perfectly circular and made out of magenta magic, though it was hard to the touch and virtually indestructible. There were one hundred and ninety-nine more just like it spread across town. During the day, they were inert, sleeping somewhere out of the way, but at night, they floated around Ponyville and its outskirts, keeping an eye on things for Twilight and warning her if something was amiss. They were based on the magic she’d used to make the orbuculum, though these ones were far cruder and fulfilled a fundamentally different purpose.
Starlight was not a fan, often arguing for their removal, and Twilight couldn’t blame her. Whenever she saw one, she felt a twinge of guilt inside, but it was a price she was willing to pay if it meant her little ponies stayed safe. If nothing else, it greatly reduced her anxiety.
“Auntie!”
Twilight looked up from the orb just in time to see a small brown pegasus colt come hurtling through the air towards her. Little Flash Flood threw himself around her neck and gave her the strongest hug his short forelegs could muster.
Twilight laughed, and so did Starlight, but Strawberry shook her head, no doubt disapproving of the impropriety. Another pegasus, a young mare who appeared to be a few years older, came rushing after Flash Flood, calling his name and looking rather distressed.
When she reached them, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath, taking the opportunity to bow to Twilight and apologize.
“I’m so sorry, Princess. You know how Flash is. He can’t seem to remember what’s proper and what isn’t!” The last part of the statement was clearly directed at the colt who let go and hovered away from Twilight, pouting. Twilight chuckled at that too. He was really quite cute.
“I’m sorry, Auntie.” Flash said, before turning on his older sister. “But she doesn’t mind. Do you?” He turned back to Twilight with the biggest puppy dog eyes she had ever seen.
“No, of course not,” Twilight said, patting Flash on the head. “And honestly, Jet Stream, you should know better than to worry about things like that.”
Jet pawed at the ground with a hoof, her periwinkle face reddening.
“I, well… Mrs. Cake says it’s inappropriate in public. The hugging, I mean, and not calling you Princess.”
Twilight sighed, annoyed and a bit disheartened, and Flash Flood too looked somewhat deflated. Fortunately, Starlight came to the rescue.
“Priscilla Cake is a bitter and jealous old crone, and I’d have thought you knew better than to listen to anything she has to say.”
“Starlight!”
“What? I’m right, Twilight. Don’t try to deny it.”
“Yes, well, it’s still not a very nice thing to say in front of the children.”
Jet Stream was giggling, and Flash had perked up noticeably, ears standing straight up and wings flapping excitedly.
“Auntie Twilight, what’s a crone?” he asked.
See, Twilight mouthed, shooting Starlight an admonishing glare, to which the latter simply rolled her eyes. Surprisingly, to both of them, Strawberry was the one who answered.
“A crone is an old mare who is usually considered ugly, disagreeable, and malicious. I think we can all agree that Mrs. Cake succeeds in each regard.”
Jet Stream placed her hooves over her mouth and was clearly holding back laughter, but Flash just looked confused, struggling to decipher several of the new words Strawberry had just introduced him to.
“Anyway,” Twilight said, wanting to steer the conversation in a different direction. It was true that Priscilla Cake had fallen a long way off from the Cake family tree when it came to agreeableness, but she was hardly ugly, and bad mouthing ponies behind their back was a poor precedent to set, regardless. Rainbow Dash might not care, but Applejack would be none too pleased to find that Twilight had encouraged her grandchildren to speak ill of somepony.
“We were going to go find some breakfast,” she continued, smiling at Jet Stream, “I thought we could visit Anise Seed at Sugarcube Corner, if you’d like to join us?” She’d hoped they would, but as soon as she asked, the two of them blushed and decided that the grass in front of Twilight’s hooves was suddenly very interesting to stare at.
“Haha, yeah, I mean no, we can’t. I mean…” Jet Stream petered out and Twilight narrowed her eyes at the young mare.
“Flash?” she asked, turning her attention to the still hovering colt. “Are the two of you perhaps supposed to be somewhere else right now?”
Flash looked panicked, clearly unwilling to lie to his favorite aunt and princess but also not wanting to spill whatever secret the two of them were keeping. Before he could say anything, a deafening boom rang out across the roofs of Ponyville, followed by a rainbow colored shockwave that rattled shutters and knocked at least a few shingles to the ground. Jet Stream and Flash Flood moved as one, diving quickly under a chuckling Twilight and hiding between her legs from the approaching consequences of their actions.
A second later, a sudden strong wind announced the arrival of Rainbow Dash, who looked both tired and annoyed. She was wearing her navy flight jacket over an orange turtle-neck and had her hair tied up in a medium-length ponytail. Rainbow was a diminutive pony, even by pegasus standards, but she carried herself with so much natural bravado and confidence that she always seemed larger than life. Though she usually wore her reflective sunglasses when she was out and about, she’d elected to leave them hanging off the collar of her jacket, probably because it was hard to stare daggers into your misbehaving grandchildren when your eyes were covered.
When she spotted them cowering under Twilight, she closed her eyes and sighed, rubbing a hoof against her temple.
“Hi, Twilight,” she said, ignoring Flash and Jet.
“Hello, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight answered, laughing. “Can I help you with something?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes, but then she laughed as well. “Yeah, actually. I seem to have misplaced a couple of snot-nosed kids, which is weird, because I’m pretty sure I remember them promising to help their mom and Applejack in the pear orchard today.”
Twilight looked down at the siblings, guilty grins on their faces, and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Did they now?” she asked.
“We’re sorry,” Jet murmured, and though her brother looked as if her confession was the gravest of betrayals, she crawled out from under Twilight and continued. “We just wanted to see the deer. Lieutenant Linden said they were visiting today, and… I’m sorry, Grandma Dash.”
“Well,” Dash said, landing in front of them, “now that I’m working in Ponyville again, I guess I could take you to see them this afternoon. I’ll be home anyway.” When she saw the hopeful looks on their faces though, she frowned and quickly added “After you help Stormbird and Applejack with the pears. And don’t think you can slack off! I’ll be checking in with your mom to make sure you actually did the work.”
“Yes, Gramgram!” Flash exclaimed, flying out from under Twilight.
“Yes, Grandma Dash,” Jet Stream added, much more subdued but still looking somewhat excited.
“Well?” Rainbow said. “Get going.”
The two young pegasi nodded their heads and took off back towards Sweet Apple Acres at a remarkable speed. Nothing near as fast as Rainbow Dash, of course, but Twilight wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised to find out that they could outrace almost anypony in Cloudsdale. Given a few years, Flash would be competing against Wonderbolts.
“Urgh,” Rainbow said, sitting down and taking a deep breath. “I thought I was done with children after Trade Wind left home. They’re the worst, Twilight. Be happy you don’t have any.”
“I’m sure,” Twilight said skeptically. “That’s why you offered to take them to see the deer even though they were breaking their promise to Applejack. Because you hate them so much.”
“What the hay, Twilight? I didn’t say I hate them. Just, you know, they’re a lot. Besides, I’m supposed to spoil them. I thought that was the whole point of having grandkids.” She paused and chewed her lower lip. “Stormbird and Trade Wind never got to meet mom and dad, you know. We were already so old when we had them. I don’t want Jet and Flash to miss out on spending time with me and Applejack.”
Twilight nodded. She knew very well the lengths to which Applejack and Rainbow Dash would go for their family, and she didn’t begrudge them that.
“So, what’s this about the deer?” she asked, changing the topic.
“And Linden,” Starlight added. “What’s she doing hanging out at Sweet Apple Acres?”
Rainbow grinned at that. “Oh, well, she seems to have a crush or something on Trade Wind. Except Trade’s never home, so Linden mopes around the farm on her days off, just in case.”
Twilight quickly went over the guard’s schedule in her head, and it seemed that Linden did indeed have the day off. Several days in a row, actually. That was curious.
“Anyway,” Rainbow continued, “she said there was a caravan from her homeland visiting Ponyville today. The kids got curious, I guess.”
“Oh, that’s the first I’ve heard of it,” Twilight said.
“Would you like to go visit them, Princess?” Strawberry asked. “It seems like the sort of educational experience you would cherish.”
“It does, and I definitely do. But first, I need to eat.” Which turned out to be an accurate statement, because as soon as she stopped speaking, her stomach once again growled loudly, much to Starlight and Rainbow’s delight.
“We were heading to Sugarcube Corner,” Starlight said, “if you want to join us.”
“Yes,” Strawberry added. “The Princess has decided to take the day off, against my advice. That said, your company, as always, would be appreciated.”
Rainbow shook her head. “Can’t. I gotta go play babysitter to Twilight’s guards. First day and all.”
Twilight hesitated at that. She’d taken the day off without really thinking much about it, and until she ran into Jet Stream and Flash Flood, she’d completely forgotten that today was Rainbow’s first day as Commanding Officer of the Ponyville Royal Guard. Would it be better if she returned to the castle grounds with Rainbow Dash? Her friend was tremendously competent, but it might be seen as irresponsible for Twilight to be absent, at least for today.
“Don’t worry, Twilight,” Rainbow said, having clearly guessed her thoughts. “You’ve only got a hoofful of those meatheads up at the castle. It’s nothing I can’t handle, and if something does go wrong, I’ll just come find you.”
“Are you sure? I feel like I should be there.”
“Relax, Twilight. Go get some food and enjoy your day. I’ve got this.”
Twilight sighed but had to admit that Rainbow Dash was probably right. The whole reason they’d decided on this arrangement was precisely because of how much she trusted her. Well, that and the fact that Rainbow was as qualified for the position as it was possible to be.
“Alright. But promise me you’ll come find me if there are any problems. I know many of the guards served with you in Canterlot, but some of the creatures from outside Equestria might be a bit… uhm, awestruck? Just be mindful, please.”
Rainbow Dash laughed at that and saluted her. “Sure thing, Princess.” She hopped into the air, and before Twilight had time to blink, she was gone.
They looked after her for a few seconds, despite the fact that she’d immediately disappeared from sight.
“How fast do you think she can go?” Strawberry asked. “If she really applied herself.”
“Fast enough,” Twilight answered. “Fast enough.”
They walked the rest of the way to Sugarcube Corner making small talk that Twilight only paid partial attention to. Her mind had traveled with Rainbow Dash. Not because she was worried about the drills, though she was still a little worried, but because of a tugging longing sensation that stretched between Twilight and Rainbow Dash like Equestria’s longest rubber band, growing thinner and less present with distance. So, not like a rubber band at all, she thought to herself. Those eventually snapped. This sensation, this tension, would eventually fade away, and neither Twilight nor Rainbow would feel that anything at all was amiss. Which was true. Nothing was amiss, technically.
The experience wasn’t unique to the two of them. She assumed it had something to do with being an Element of Harmony, and so all five of Twilight’s closes friends often felt this way when they drew near to one another or went their separate ways. It was an inexact nebulous thing, which frustrated her. Twilight much preferred things that were precise and measurable. As it stood, she could currently tell that Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy were all somewhere in Ponyville, and that Pinkie and Rarity were somewhere far away, but even that level of certainty often eluded her.
It had its downsides too, this strange connection, but Twilight forced herself not to dwell on it. Obsession was a personal fault of hers, and she had already blocked off specific time in her schedule each week to think about and work on this particular problem.
“Monday and Wednesday night,” she whispered to herself, repeating a now tired mantra, “for three hours but never past midnight, and Sunday morning from five till nine.”
Though Starlight and Strawberry had no doubt heard her muttering to herself, they were kind enough not to comment on it. It was a regular occurrence, after all. Sometimes, the best defense against an anxious heart was simply to state out loud the process and the facts as they stood. Nopony familiar with her, as the citizens of Ponyville were, ever remarked on how often the Princess spoke to herself in public. She was an alicorn, and a certain amount of eccentricity was to be expected.
They arrived at Sugarcube Corner to find the place sparsely populated. A young donkey named August was engaged in a quiet chess match with Ember Fords, a smart and mild-mannered earth pony who was married to the current proprietor of Sugarcube Corner. Said proprietor, a short rosy-cheeked pony by the name of Anise Seed, was crouched behind the counter and was placing freshly baked blueberry turnovers into the glass display case.
Anise Seed was short, well-fed, and full of love for everypony. Her chestnut mane was a curled up tangle that, paired with her brilliant smile, well betrayed her lineage. Her children, Poppy Seed and Vanilla Bean, were currently helping her by bringing more trays of baked goods out from the kitchen.
When the three of them walked in, Ember Fords raised a hoof in greeting, but said nothing and kept his eyes on the chess board. Likewise, Poppy and Vanilla continued their work with only quick nods in Twilight’s direction. Anise, however, stood up straight and beamed brightly at Twilight.
“Aunt Twilight! It’s so nice to see you. You too, of course,” she added, turning her smile on Starlight and Strawberry. “Ooh, Auntie, don’t you feel wicked dragging poor old Starlight out of the castle and all the way down here just for a morning snack. Here, dearie, have a seat.”
In the time it took her to say the words, Anise had pulled up three cushioned chairs to a small table near the counter and guided an amused Starlight over to one of them, all the while making sure the unicorn was comfortable and hadn’t overworked herself and didn’t need a little something extra in her morning coffee for her joints. Was she sure? It wouldn’t be any trouble at all. Twilight and Strawberry sat down as well, and after a laughing Starlight assured Anise that she was really quite fine, they ordered their breakfast.
Twilight ordered a braided pastry filled with maple custard and covered with pecans. Despite of her hunger, she ate it slowly, watching as Pinkie’s progeny moved about Sugarcube Corner and attended their duties. They baked, cleaned, and helped the occasional customer, most of whom stared openly at Twilight or shot her glances they must have imagined were well disguised. Even after all these years, it was a strange and disorienting thing to look at Pinkie’s granddaughter, a mare who appeared physically older than Pinkie herself, and realize that she had lived a good and full life in what felt like only the blink of an eye to Twilight.
Anise wasn’t old by any stretch of the imagination, but she had two children grown enough to help her with her work. Four generations under one roof, with one member who didn’t quite fit into the puzzle the way all the rest of them did. Twilight wondered if Pinkie felt the same way she did in moments like this, like she was passing out of time, slowly growing less and less connected to the ponies around them. Maybe not. This was Pinkie’s family, after all. Twilight thought of Cadance and Flurry. She loved them both deeply, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t quite the same. Why wasn’t it the same? Distance?
What about Starlight or the girls? Well, Starlight was close to her, but there was such a terrible looming expectation there, and the girls were different. Not family, but something else that was hard to define. Spike at least felt tangible to her, near to her in the same way Shining and her parents had, but he was so often away on errands or busy with this task or another. She only had herself to blame for that though, since she was the one who kept sending him away.
She noticed her breath had grown rapid and shallow, so–as she finished her pastry–she counted five things she could see, four things she could touch, three she could hear, two she could smell, and one thing she could taste. She took a deep breath. She closed her eyes. All was well, she told herself. The world was real, and the shadows were silent.
-
The deer weren’t difficult to find, though she’d forgotten to ask Rainbow Dash where they’d set up camp. There was a large meadow north of Sweet Apple Acres and west of the path into town and judging by the direction Flash and Jet Stream had been walking when they ran into them, it seemed a likely location. Sure enough, as they drew near, Twilight spotted a large gathering of caravan wagons.
They were decorated with flowers and branches that seemed almost to grow out of the wagons themselves and were arranged in a circle so that the area behind them was completely obstructed from view. Many of the flowers and leaves adorning the wagons seemed to glow faintly in the morning light and, more incredibly, were humming a gentle and quiet tune. Twilight found that she quite liked the way the enchantments on the wagons resonated with her horn. The best word she could think of for the sensation was pleasant. She steered her friends towards a gap in the makeshift wall.
“I’ve never seen flowers like this before. Whatever is making them glow like that isn’t regular magic.” Strawberry’s comment was made with innocent intent, but it rubbed Twilight the wrong way.
“Just because it isn’t unicorn magic doesn’t mean it isn’t regular magic,” said Starlight.
“There are many more creatures in the world than just unicorns, or ponies for that matter” Twilight added, trying to sound affable and not reproachful, “and most of them have some magic of their own.”
Strawberry looked thoughtful for a moment. These were things she already knew but tended to forget. The same was true for Kerning and many other ponies as well. Many of them viewed the world through a very specific lens, and it was hard to shake that sometimes. Twilight was sure Strawberry was about to respond, but as they neared the entrance between the wagons, they were interrupted by a mule deer who planted herself firmly in their way, barring entry to the camp.
The slate gray deer was tall and regal, with a crown of woven ribes perched between her large ears. The dark green twigs were peppered with ripe berries in red, black, and white that hung down around her head and over her brow. The draping crown framed a pair of large pale eyes, which seemed both coolly confident and fiercely curious. They made her appear at once immensely knowledgeable and entirely innocent. Twilight found the effect quite striking.
Besides her crown, the deer wore nothing but a leather brace strapped around her front left leg. Twilight couldn’t tell if it served a medical or utilitarian purpose, or if it was simply decorative. There were runes stamped into its edges, and Twilight was both excited and a little bit annoyed by the fact that she couldn’t recognize the script. She did, however, recognize the deer.
Linden bowed her head deeply towards the ground in a graceful curtsy. When she spoke, her voice was clear and pleasant, like early spring snowmelt running through a mountain brook.
“Welcome, Starchild,” she nodded towards Twilight’s companions, “and friends.”
“Hello, Linden,” said Twilight, smiling.
Linden was one of the more private members of her guard, having revealed very little about herself during her years of service to Twilight. Very little aside from an immense talent for healing and the application of force fields and nature-based magic. Twilight had more effective ways of determining trustworthiness and loyalty than a background check could offer, so she felt secure in allowing her guards as much privacy as they desired.
That said, Twilight was certainly curious. She’d spent some time in Thicket with King Aspen–and later King Bramble–but she knew that Linden and her group weren’t from the Everfree Forest. She didn’t recognize the make of their wagons, nor did their magic feel alchemical, which, as far as she knew, was the only kind of magic the Everfree deer could use.
Despite the incongruities in Linden’s application, Fluttershy had pushed hard for admittance on the grounds that the essay on healing magic that accompanied it was exemplary. Twilight didn’t know as much about healing as Fluttershy, but she’d been impressed as well and was very happy she’d agreed. The doe had proved her mettle beyond any doubt several times over.
“This is an impressive gathering,” Starlight said, gesturing to the wagons. “You should have let us know they were coming. I’m sure Twilight would have loved to be here to greet them.”
“Ah, well, yes. I didn’t want to bother you with this, Princess. It’s a private matter between me and the Seeker of my grove. When she announced her intent to travel here, my people decided to make a pilgrimage of it. I’m Warden of the Circle, you see.” She looked around herself and giggled, a sound like sleigh bells on a winter morning. “And also, it seems, this smaller circle.” She gestured towards the wagons and smiled kindly. “Besides, you live here, Princess. I think they might have come just for that.”
Twilight noticed that despite her friendly words and genteel demeanor there was something quite solid about her posture, giving the distinct impression that Linden was not planning on letting them pass. Before Twilight could ask her if something was wrong, she continued.
“You’ll have to excuse me for barring the way. It’s not my place to tell a princess where she may or may not go, but one of our does is currently birthing. She chose to do so here among her own, rather than going to the Ponyville hospital. I do not wish for her to be startled or disturbed by your presence, which is, after all, rather… impressive.”
Twilight heard Starlight chuckle and frowned at her friend. Linden looked somewhat surprised by the exchange but didn’t say anything.
“Don’t worry, Linden. As my snarky friend here just demonstrated, there’s no need for so much formality. We didn’t mean to disturb, and we’ll of course not intrude if you don’t want us to.”
Twilight’s casual attitude seemed to be putting Linden off her stride a bit. “That’s gracious of you,” she said.
Twilight decided it was probably best to leave. She was dying to know what a Warden of the Circle was, and what function a Seeker served, but she didn’t want to keep Linden if the birthing doe required her aid. Before she could say goodbye though, Strawberry chimed in with her own question.
“Are you excited to be back with your friends and family again? I imagine it must get lonesome sometimes being away from them here in Ponyville.” There was a slight gleam in her eyes that at first surprised Twilight before making her cross. Strawberry had been less than enthused about the lack of “proper background checks”, as she called it.
It didn’t matter to her that Applejack and Rainbow Dash had functioned as excellent detectors of deceit and ill-will, in fact, she’d made it quite clear she thought that trusting such serious issues to the providence of poorly understood magical intervention was irresponsible at best and completely idiotic at worst. Neither did it matter to her that Linden had served with distinction for the better part of three years now. Twilight sighed, and Starlight shot her a meaningful glance.
“Of course, I do miss them, and it’s wonderful to see the Seeker and my friends again, but I’m happy to be here. Serving the Starchild is a tremendous honor, and the joy and pride I feel in fulfilling that task eases the longing. Nowadays, I think of Ponyville as my true home.”
Again, Strawberry looked thoughtful, but Twilight had a mind to talk to her sternly when she had time and they were alone back at the castle.
“We’ve kept you long enough, Linden. I hope all goes well, and if you or your visitors need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Of course, Princess. May the stars watch over you.” Linden bowed then turned and walked away. Twilight too made to leave when she felt a familiar tug on her heart from somewhere among the wagons. Ah, she thought to herself, perhaps it wasn’t her casual attitude that had put Linden off her stride after all. She forced herself to continue walking, heading back towards the castle and ignoring the faint stretching feeling that called on her to stay.
“You’re a good friend, Linden,” she whispered under her breath. Her shadow grinned wickedly, but Twilight ignored her and joined in on Starlight and Strawberry’s conversation. They were talking about travel and how difficult it was without magic or flight, which was a fascinating topic that Twilight could easily get lost in. And so, with a deep breath of determination, she allowed herself to do just that, putting hurtful things aside for another time.
-
Fluttershy looked up from the sweat-soaked doe breathing heavily on the blanket before her. Linden had returned to the circle and looked tremendously unhappy. Fluttershy sighed and busied herself with the task at hand, not wanting to look Linden in the eye.
“I did as you asked, but I don’t think it was right to bar the Starchild from entering our camp.”
“Mhmm.” Fluttershy said, busy making sure that Thistle, the birthing doe, wasn’t bleeding too badly. After giving some instructions to a bright-eyed fawn who’d been assisting her, she walked over to a cleaning trough to wash her hooves.
“It… it’s better like this,” Fluttershy said, finally meeting Linden’s accusing gaze. “I needed peace to work, and your friend needs space and privacy.” Fluttershy felt a tightening in her stomach but reminded herself that lies of omission weren’t so bad, no matter what Applejack said.
Linden raised a skeptical eyebrow but didn’t pursue the issue further. “Will Thistle be alright?” she asked instead.
“She’ll be fine.” She looked over as her fawn assistant, following Fluttershy’s previous orders, instructed Thistle on how to pace her breathing. “She’s strong, and she’s done this before. I just wanted to make sure the baby was facing the right way and that there weren’t any co… co…” she bit down, took a deep breath, and forced the word out, “complications.” She tried to smile at Linden. Childbirth could be grizzly business, but Fluttershy had always found the process of bringing life into the world a beautiful and sacrosanct thing.
“You don’t like the Starchild?” Linden’s question sounded a bit too much like an accusation, but Fluttershy felt obliged to answer anyway.
“I love Twilight very much, Linden. She’s dearer to me than most.”
“Then why did you not wish to see her? Why have me send her away when by rights and tradition, I should have invited her into our camp?”
Fluttershy could feel the violent and persistent twitch in her left cheek returning and grimaced at the ground, trying to hide her face while waiting for it to pass. Linden, mistaking the grimace for a response to her question, bowed her head and apologized.
“I am sorry, it is not my place to challenge a request from the Element of Kindness.”
Fluttershy waved her hoof dismissively. “No, I’m sorry Linden. I’m not frowning at you. I have ne... nerve damage in my face, and it’s difficult to deal with sometimes.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? I may not have your talent, but I am an accomplished healer among my people.” The look of genuine concern on Linden’s face touched Fluttershy’s heart, and she did her best to smile as kindly as she could to illustrate how much the offer meant.
“Thank you, but there’s nothing to be done. It’s an old and magical injury. Trust me. If I can’t heal it, and my husband can’t heal it, it can’t be healed at all.”
Linden nodded gravely and bowed to Fluttershy. “Thank you for looking after Thistle, and for concerning yourself with our struggles. It is an honor beyond measure to have you walk among us.”
Fluttershy giggled at the doe’s sincerity. She was a very severe creature. “It was my pleasure.