//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: Children of Darkness and Light // by Aquaman //------------------------------// “It all started,” the dragon told the little princess, “with a bet, I guess.” “A bet?” “Well, that’s the simplest way to put it. Princess Celestia thought the world should work one way, Princess Twilight thought it should work another, so… they made a bet. If Twilight could make it around the world in eighty-one days, and make diplomatic stops in all the biggest capital cities along the way, Celestia would get rid of leap years. And…” Spike trailed off, and his eyes fell back to the textbook splayed on his desk. A Brief Introduction to Fluid Dynamics, by Artificer’s Guildmaster Stone Sluice was the title he’d see if he flipped the book closed — in other words, if he heaved the three hundred or so pages he’d already read back onto the seven hundred he’d yet to peruse. He could spare a few minutes to get lost in memories. Hopefully even several hours. “And what?” Flurry Heart leaned forward in her chair, wings flared and eyes wide. “Did Auntie Twilight win the bet?” Spike couldn’t help chuckling. “What, you don’t wanna hear the whole big story? Just gonna skip right to the end?” “Uncle Spiiiiike, come on!” the filly groaned. “Did she win or not? And what’s a leap year?” “Think you just answered your own question, ladybug,” Spike said through a smirk. Once he got the second groan out of Flurry he’d been waiting for, he swiveled in his own seat and faced her. “Yes, Twilight won. I helped, a lot, but she… we did it. And by the time the trip was over, I knew this–” He gestured to the textbook. “–was what I wanted to do with my life.” Flurry made a face, and then pointed that face at the two visible pages on Spike’s desk, each covered top to bottom in numberless mathematical formulas. “Hey, it’s easier than politics,” Spike added. “That’s what Twilight learned from that trip, more than anything.” Flurry’s expression shifted again, back towards unsubtle curiosity. “You mean she learned how to be a Princess on her trip?” “She learned how hard being a Princess could be. And what could happen if you… when you have to make hard decisions.” “What decisions?” Flurry asked. “What happened?” Spike turned back to his textbook, so he had something to look at besides the lovingly shaped curls of hair framing his niece’s cherubic face. He wasn’t sure how much to tell her — if she was old enough to hear the truth, or whether any creature ever could be old enough. Eventually, he explained it to her by not explaining it. “Well,” he began, “our first stop on the trip was Griffonia, and then after that was Aero-Lipizzia. You know where that is?” “No?” “Of course you don’t, because it doesn’t exist anymore. There was… a really big war, and once it was over, the place that was Aero-Lipizzia split up into a whole bunch of new countries. Most of it’s either Aerony or Lipizzia now, so that’s simple enough, but there’s also Armăsar, Kůňský, the Plemena Planina, Senna, and that’s just the major players. With me so far?” “Uh…” “Good, because there’s lots of places where creatures who feel like they’re Aeronese are actually in Lipizzia now, and Lipizzans think they should be in Armăsar, and all of them are worried about Orlovia because a revolutionary party overthrew their monarchy and nobody knows who’s going to support who once that’s all sorted out. Oh, and the Water Empire might want to separate from the Crystal Empire, there’s territorial disputes in Kiria, Zaniskar still can’t decide whether to even recognize Twilight as Princess now that Celestia’s retired, and… geez, then there’s Zebraria. Wanna hear about Zebraria?” “No,” Flurry moaned. “My head hurts.” “And that’s what Twilight learned,” Spike finished with a grin. “That it’s all really complicated and every country wants different things, and at the same time most creatures just want to feed their families and feel like they belong somewhere.” “And you learned you wanted to join the Artificer’s Guild.” Spike bit his lip. Flurry definitely wasn’t old enough for that part of the story, though he could still tell her most of the truth. “I learned that, uh… that the world’s like a big, beautiful machine, and every creature in it is a cog. And you can’t choose whether to be a cog or not, but you can choose your shape, how you work, where you fit. So… I chose this. ‘Course, it’s different for Princesses. You’re a pretty big cog no matter where you go.” Spike had meant his last remark as a joke, but instead of laughing, Flurry fluttered her wings and twisted her lips, and for a heartstopping moment looked like she was about to cry. “I don’t know,” she mumbled — and finally, Spike realized why she’d ambled over to him a few minutes ago, and peppered him with seemingly aimless questions about what he was studying and why he wanted to study it. “I don’t know where I fit. There’s so much I don’t know, and I’m supposed to know everything, but…” “Hey, stop,” Spike interrupted, squeezing a claw around Flurry’s shoulder and holding on as she tried to cringe away. “You’re not supposed to know everything. Twilight sure didn’t at first. But she learned, and you will too. You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” “But if I don’t, there’s wars,” came Flurry’s shaky response. “A-And mistakes that other creatures have to fix, and…” “Flurry, listen to me,” Spike said, nudging her chin up with a clawtip so he could look her in the eyes. “Princesses aren’t perfect. Twilight isn’t, your mom isn’t, Celestia wasn’t. And wars… wars just happen sometimes, even when good creatures try to stop them, because the creatures who want to fight those wars can make decisions and mistakes too. Sometimes all you can do is your best. Okay?” Flurry gave him a smile — a well-practiced Princessly one, pretty and hollow. Maybe she knew more already than she thought she did. Certainly more than he’d given her credit for. “Are you worried about your mom and Aunt Twilight?” he asked. “About them freeing Cozy Glow?” Flurry nodded, her gaze turned down towards her twiddling hooves. “Mom said she did some really bad things, and that Celestia shouldn’t have punished her like she did. But I just… I can’t stop thinking about being frozen like that, how mad I’d be.” She looked up at Spike again. “She’s gonna hate us, isn’t she?” “She might, at first,” Spike admitted, “but even if she does, I think freeing her is still the right thing to do. And hey, you wanna know something it took Twilight a long time to learn? Every creature has something to teach you, if you’re willing to learn.” “Even the bad ones?” Now it was Spike’s turn to wear a mask of a smile. “Especially the bad ones. No harm trying to get to know her, in any event. Who knows? Maybe you could be friends.” Flurry considered that for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess,” she said. “As long as she doesn’t want to talk about politics.” “I… can’t promise she won’t,” Spike replied, and this time Flurry did crack a grin with him as he laughed. He turned back to his textbook, and as he flipped the page, Flurry piped up with one last question. “Okay, seriously, though, what is a leap year?” “Don’t worry about it,” Spike assured her over his shoulder. “It was dumb. Twilight was right about that.”