//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: Sogno di Volare // by Sledge115 //------------------------------// Prologue It wasn’t that Princess Celestia sought the fiery-maned filly’s attention in particular. A good three, maybe four books had been read this afternoon, yet still it surprised her that, alone amongst the crowd of children, the little filly seemed to pay so little attention to her. How odd it was for someone of her age, Celestia quietly mused, to be so fixated upon a miniature airship. Other than young Prince Blueblood, that is to say. In the hours that had passed for today’s reading session, down at the Canterlot Orphanage, there was one filly who doggedly remained in her own corner of the room. An angry, vivid red-and-orange both in mane and coat, her amaranth aura still wrapped around the toy airship, her cyan eyes fixed in a determined glare. Up and down the silver airship went, higher and lower with every try. But the filly did not seem particularly happy. No, Celestia observed, that frown remained, her teeth gritted. Her horn grew brighter and dimmer in turn as the airship hovered, so stubborn was the child. But Celestia could not dwell on the sight, not while her story was still being told, close to conclusion though it stood. So she returned her attention to the book in her own aura, reading aloud the long-familiar text which lent narrative to the pages’ lush water-colours. “… And when the Sun returned in full,” Celestia continued, mentally strumming a tune to go with her well-practiced reading voice, “as the light gleamed off the crow’s darkened feathers, they saw that still it shimmered as a rainbow would. A thank-you from the Sun, for her loyalty, her friendship, and her song.” As gently as possible, for she had now read this story more times than she could count, Celestia closed the old storybook. With a tranquil smile, she beheld the audience before her, their tiny eyes wide with anticipation, mouths hung open in awe. “The End.” And, just as always had in readings past, upon the utterance of those closing words, the gathered children of Equestria burst into cheers and  excited chatter, whether it be amongst themselves or  questions aimed her way. “That was amazing!” “Wow, I wish I could read…” “Can you read us more? There’s gotta be more!” She had seen this many times, every passing year. Yet, with the children’s joy always shining bright in their eyes, never did it turn rote for her. “Um, Miss Princess Celestia?” asked a little blue colt. “Can you tell us what happens next?” Celestia could only let out a fond laugh. “Oh, I’m afraid that’s it, really,” she said. “But I assure you, the Crow is alive and well. When you’re older, maybe you could visit her, how about that?” “But I want to hear it now!” said the colt. “That’s gonna be a long time!” “Yeah!” said a pegasus filly, wings fluttering. “Please? There’s gotta be more!” One by one they spoke up, dismay and bewilderment and everything in-between evident. For surely, after the book had closed, more words would follow. As the children continued their chorus, Celestia shot a pleading look at the matron, a kindly middle-aged mare, who stood near the door. Calm though she may have seemed, there was that tell-tale mischievous curl of the lips. ‘Looks as if Kibitz will have to reschedule,’ Celestia thought fleetingly, glancing at the clock. The Palace majordomo had long insisted on maintaining a consistent timetable for Palace affairs. But the children’s eyes were wide and pleading, their voices innocently asking if she could stay for only a little longer. And who was she to disappoint them? ‘Sorry, old friend,’ Celestia thought, as she reached into her saddlebag. ‘But I’ve a story to tell.’ She cleared her throat, quieting most of the gathered orphans. “Okay, okay!” Celestia spoke at last above the children’s murmurs, raising her forehooves in mock-surrender. “Well, now… looks like I’ve still got time. Who wants to hear another story~?” She needn’t have asked, for she knew the answer. Almost that very instant, a dozen hooves shot up, while another dozen voices chorused in unison. “Me!” “I wanna!” “Yay!” “Settle down, settle down, all,” Celestia said, amidst her own laughter. “Alright, how about something from a distant land?” She withdrew a different book from her saddlebag, a large thick tome. Flipping through the pages, her eyes skimmed past titles in foreign tongues. “Kirin, dragons… my, I’d forgotten they even had fairy-tales! Ah, let’s see… How about ‘The Endless Maze’? A Minotaur classic.” “Yes!” the children cried in unison. They quickly huddled together yet again, all around her. “Okay!” Celestia exclaimed, beaming. “Now, children, our next story takes us to the ancient Tauren Isles, where the great Minotaur Asterion reigned…” While their chatter was quieted by her words as the story went on, Celestia caught a glimpse of the filly who sat apart, still levitating her airship. She could have sworn the filly had looked at her in askance when their peers had merely begged for more stories. As she read the tale to her audience, Celestia wondered if the fiery child would land the airship at last and join them here, eventually.