//------------------------------//
// A Very 
// Story: The First Willowbrook Christmas 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

Lilac Empathy listened to the words of the strange hymn, moving her mouth along to each verse. Her school had so many students that one little pony in the back who wasn't singing could hardly be noticed.
The other students each sang along as though it were music they’d heard for a lifetime, as familiar in their way as the old Christmas tunes that came back onto the radio year after year. They sang with much of that same energy that a child's choir ought to.
But the words they sang—that was where she found the difference. They weren't looking forward to a silly holiday where they would receive gifts from their parents, or even a slightly more religious version of basically the same thing.
Whoever had written their songs had an entirely different purpose in mind—they were afraid. She read along to songs about ponies running from a terrible cold, a cold so intense that it froze their families solid and turned every city it reached to an icy mausoleum.
Her school sorted each group by species, what the ponies called “tribes,” then again by sex. That meant that she was on the wrong side of the room, only one row away from her best friend. She went by “Firefly” now, with far less reservation than Lilac had for her own name. 
She also seemed to be enjoying herself, practically bouncing up and down in her seat as she sang about an ancient, probably apocryphal group of ponies, fleeing an incredible loss of life from one city to another.
The other little ponies in their class were, unsurprisingly, the ages they actually looked. Their attention varied, their skill in music was middling, and most of them only paid attention at the fun parts. But like Lilac, Firefly's true age was greater than chronology suggested. She knew how to sing, so much that she led the other pegasi rather than blending in like Lilac was trying to do.
Why does she care about their stupid fake holiday, anyway? She's supposed to be waiting for me to get us home.
Finally, they came to the last verse of the last song. The mythical ponies reached a secret altar, hidden in an ancient land dedicated to the True Gods. They would grant protection from the biting cold, in exchange for an offering of blood each year. It was a small price to pay while the world froze, a very little thing.
The mythical ponies agreed, red lights flashed through the room, then the pianist stopped playing.
There was no applause, because there was no audience. They performed for a row of empty windows, and a late afternoon sky. Only freezing cold air drifted in through the windows. On the whole, it made for a poor audience.
"Very good," said the headmaster. Lilac hadn't bothered to learn his name. He wanted her to learn stupid pointless things, just like the rest of these little ponies. But she had no intention of being here long term, so there was no point putting in too much effort.
She didn't have to be a “good match” for a “fine stallion” one day, because
1. that was gross,
2. she'd be gone long before then.
She better, because it wasn't just her that Lilac was responsible for. Her best friend was still counting on her getting them home. She was the one who understood magic, and only she could overcome the barrier between worlds. Without her, they would be stuck in Willowbrook for the rest of their lives.
"That performance will suffice for the year," the stallion said. "I can see not all of you devoted yourself as you ought to. I should not need to remind you of the danger we are all in. With the advent of winter, we find ourselves again at the mercy of the Windigos. Proper veneration of the True Gods, proper offering given to the ponies who can intervene, is our only route to survive another year. Do not think that the sacrifice of your parents will be sufficient for you."
The stern unicorn paced past the assembled children, as though he were dressing down a group of army recruits. She didn't know his name, but the stallion definitely mastered the scornful affect. His body was sharp and angular, his gray mane giving him a glow of dignity and old knowledge. 
Even the youngest foals kept their mouths closed until he was past them.
"We go now to the shrine," he said. "Each should offer a few drops. You may go with friends, but do not leave until you have made your offering. My institution will not be responsible if you fail to avail yourselves of our sponsors' protection. Your parents and guardians will await your return at the academy steps. We will begin with the seniors. Others, wait your turn."
The room devolved into chaos. Ponies scattered into their various groups, friends that crossed tribes or years meeting back up after their forceful separation for the performance.
Well—maybe “performance” was a little too generous a word. Their parents weren’t invited to watch the children sing. Maybe “ritual” was better. 
None of the children seemed to mind. Most of them didn't know any better, they were just following the instructions of the adults in their lives. But one did. Instead of joining her right away, Firefly lingered with the other winged ponies. She spoke in an eager whisper with the other girls, complimenting one on her performance, and giving advice to another.
Lilac didn't know their names either, or particularly care. She just retreated into a back corner and fixed her friend with a pointed stare. Eventually she noticed Lilac's attention. Then she left the other ponies behind, flying across the room to Lilac's hiding place in the back.
She was already becoming a skilled flier, though nowhere near the natural-born pegasi around them. It makes sense. She was athletic in our old world, so she can do that stuff here too. Maybe Lilac would be learning earth pony things, if she didn't have to spend so much of her time on magic.
The difference was that she didn't want to learn any of those things. The more time she could spend on magic, the happier she would be. She would find a way home, even if she had to drag her best friend by the tail to get her there.
Nopony else noticed them. Most attention was on the front, where students lined up for their chance to leave the auditorium. Where they went after that, she couldn't exactly say. They would all have to visit a “shrine” apparently.
"Hi Lilac!" Firefly landed a short distance away. She wasn't very good at that either, and had to jog a few steps to slow down, nearly smacking into a wall. She managed to stop without hitting it, somehow. "Pretty cool holiday party, huh? We used to do things like this at my old school every year."
"Holiday," she repeated. "You mean Chr—" She wanted to say its real name, the same way she wanted to say her own name. It didn't matter how badly she wanted to get the words out, or how much energy she poured into it. Her mouth wouldn't move, and the only result was a steady throbbing in her forehead.
Lilac and Firefly couldn't use many specific words about their home. They could talk in vague terms, they could make general suggestions, or rephrase them into Equestrian equivalents. But Lilac couldn't talk about the real winter holiday, no matter how hard she tried.
She felt something settle onto her back after a few seconds—one of Firefly's little wings. Hers were bigger than many of their classmates, with different colored feathers on the underside. Maybe their size was part of what made her better at using them. "Deep breaths, Lilac. Just call it Hearth's Warming. It's close enough to the real thing."
The room was already about a third empty by then. Most of the instructors were gone, with only a few remaining to shepard students generally towards the exit. It was late afternoon on a weekend, they probably wanted to get back to their families as much as anypony.
"It is not. Come on, Firefly, you were singing along. Blood offerings are not part of any winter holiday I know of. This whole musical performance you just gave for us—you were basically bribing an evil cold god not to kill you. That's the holiday."
For all that, she didn't try to make her friend move her wing. They were soft and warm. Lilac longed for physical contact in a way that she had never much cared about back home. She refused to admit it of course, and thus yield to the humiliating transformation. So long as she kept ignoring it, she could stay in control of her life.
For a little longer, anyway.
"I'm sure that's just... the old tradition," Firefly said. Though for all the confidence in her voice when she sang, there was none in it now. "Willowbrook is just like that. Maybe it's because we're horses now. Motivated by fear instead of rewards, or... I dunno. You're the psychologist."
She had been, once. She had the degree hanging on her wall to prove it. Except that her offices were probably foreclosed on by now, her patients long since moved on to other doctors. She could only hope that they'd made the transition with a minimum of pain. After half a year gone, there was no chance the two of them weren't declared dead. The funerals would be over, their loved ones moving on.
It wasn't too late to pick up the pieces, if Lilac could find the way to open the door. "It was probably real once." She twitched, trying and failing to reach the burned scar on her back. At that moment it was hidden by the ugly uniform jackets they made every student wear for formal occasions like this one.
Underneath, some of Lilac's coat was perpetually missing. It was a price worth paying to save a life, especially since she was the only reason Little Risk had been in danger in the first place. Now it ached, and it might forever.
"There are real fire demons. That plane has an opposite, for cold instead of heat. If something got out, it could rampage just like that song said, destroying everything it touched."
"Lilac," another voice spoke from nearby, startling her to look up. It was familiar, because it was Risk's voice, the unicorn boy she'd saved. His uniform was far more sensible than the almost-dresses they made girls wear.
Maybe Lilac could get him to ask for an extra uniform, then steal it from him. She was about done wearing the girl stuff.
"Lilac, we don't have to wait until last. It's already our turn."
She took one step towards Firefly, and away from him. "I'm going with my friend. You can come with us too if you want. But I'm not going without her."
He groaned, glancing between them. "I know you two are... from the same place. But your family is important, Lilac. House Vale is entitled to almost anything you ask for."
"I ask to be with my friend," she said, each word slow and deliberate. "We were just talking about a much better version of this holiday. One that most p-ponies look forward to every year, instead of dreading."
Risk rolled his eyes. "You mean the lies they repeat in the rest of Equestria? About how ponies 'overcame' the Windigos just by feeling good about themselves? It would be nice if it was that easy. Say a few nice words to each other, and the ancient evil goes back to sleep. Unfortunately not—we have to force them to leave us alone. Make the right signs, the right offerings. At least we know who really has the power in the world, instead of blindly worshiping the princess."
The way he said it, he seemed to be waiting for some angry reaction, either from them or some other listening pony. But none came. They were in Willowbrook, after all. Lilac and Firefly had no personal investment in Equestria's political system. Why should they care what he said about the princess?
They shuffled vaguely towards the exit as other students made their way out, but always remaining far enough away that they couldn't be overheard. Lilac wasn't going to hold the prestige of her adoptive family over other kids—but if their fear of her meant they didn't try to talk to her, maybe some parts of it weren't so bad.
She didn't mind Risk's company, even if he could be a little silly. He was young, but his knowledge of unicorn magic had already proved incredibly useful.
Besides, he didn't act as immature as most of the other foals did. Lilac only had so much patience to deal with kids, even if she was one.
"If you want to celebrate a real holiday, you don't have to go along with what they're doing," Lilac said. She still kept her voice down, in case any of their instructors happened to be listening. A school that went to so much trouble for their ritual would not take kindly to her openly defying it.
But nopony bothered them. All she had to do was look like she was obeying, and everything else took care of itself.
"Forget blood offerings at a ritual shrine. Get a tree, decorate it, make cookies and a honey ham and stockings and anything else your family used to do."
Firefly looked back, expression transforming to a grin. From her face, she genuinely hadn't even considered what it would be like to defy the adults around them. "I... don't think my dad understands the local holidays very much either. He acts like he's putting me in charge because he wants me to develop leadership skills or whatever—but I think he doesn't know. I could tell him whatever I wanted."
"The pony who adopted you," Lilac corrected. "I know we're... stuck with some of the dumb words. But you shouldn't let them manipulate you."
Firefly shrugged open both wings. Even at the end of the line, even with nopony watching them, her expression remained furtive. Who was going to catch them here? Who cared what they had to say?
Firefly, apparently. The same way she let them bully her into singing along with the ritual. She would probably go right along with blood offerings at a cult's altar if Lilac didn't get her to stop and think.
"What about you, wanna have a... holiday party with me?" Firefly finally asked. "You can even come, Risk. So long as you don't act all weird."
"I'm not gonna act weird," he snapped. "Are you sure it's a good idea to have a party during the season of cold and despair? We don't have infinite protection against the Windigos, even with the right blood offerings. They won't like it if you spit in their faces."
"They're not gods," Lilac said flatly. "Even if they're powerful spirits of cold and darkness, they don’t know what we're doing."
She patted Firefly on the shoulder, making the short pegasus look up. Short compared to an earth pony like herself, anyway. "We'll have to do it at your place. The Vale household is just going to cower around the fireplace and mutter prayers like everypony else."
Firefly's smile faltered. "It... might not be as great if I host it. We don't have the money you do. My dad—the one who adopted me—winter is tough. There aren't as many currents bringing in new parts of the Cumulus Maze for him to explore. It will be better in spring."
Finally, they reached the doors and had no choice but to make their way out. The line of students continued into the center of town. Most of them weren’t making it all the way back to join up with their families at the school, despite what the headmaster said. 
She couldn't see the shrine from here, but what did that matter? Lilac wasn't going to give offerings at it, anyway.
"Money is whatever." Lilac reached into the pockets of her silly jacket, withdrawing a little cloth pouch filled with different sizes and shapes of metal coins. She tossed it to Firefly, landing it on her back. It still sucked to just use her mouth for everything, but she had months to practice now. Lilac was learning.
"Spend that however you want, and tell me when it's gonna happen. Willowbrook ponies seem like they... actively hate the holiday. I can probably get away with spending it with you."
"Oh." Firefly rolled sideways, catching the little pouch of money with a wing, then tucking it away again. "I can do that!"
She leaned out to one side, staring at the long line of waiting students. She groaned, settling back in beside Lilac. "The pegasi are practically there already. Why'd you have to pull me out? Half the shops will closed before we finish with this dumb ritual."
"Because nothing they're doing matters. Just wait for a group of ponies to pass by, and go. I'll cover for you."
Risk cleared his throat loudly, glaring between them. "She needs to give an offering before she leaves, Lilac. So do you. The true gods can't protect us if we don't."
"She doesn't," Lilac said, just a little louder. Loud enough that the ponies directly in front of them turned to stare. "Go on, Firefly."
"You're the best, Lilac!" The pegasus leaned in close for a brief, pony hug. She only had to wait a few seconds more for an opening: a large group of tourist ponies moving through town. When they weren't looking, she slipped into their group from the back. Soon she was gone, and none of the instructors noticed.
"This is a very bad idea," Risk repeated. "Weren't you listening to the music? The Windigos almost wiped ponies out. Being nice to each other isn't good enough."
Lilac shrugged. "You can go wait in line for the blood altar if you want. But I can see the family carriage waiting at the front of the building. I'm leaving."