//------------------------------// // In Ponyville. Part 1 // Story: Luna's Invitation // by CloudMagnet //------------------------------// Luna sat at the cold stone bench, her head buried in her hooves. The night had started so well. She had awoken in the deliciously cool dark of evening, filled with a sense of purpose and without a trace of the blinding headache she had endured the previous afternoon. Her mouth may have tasted of socks and felt like dry moondust but that was only to be expected and was not a cause for any concern or a dampening of enthusiasm. She had cheekily lit the fringes of the night’s dome with a spray of aurora as she flew to the Everfree Castle, her bubbling exuberance too great to contain. It helped to know that on a little balcony in an otherwise insignificant farming hamlet a certain mauve unicorn’s mouth would be hanging open in shock as she furiously sketched the rare phenomena into one of her bulging notebooks. Her ebullient mood had not survived the first sight of her laboratory. Nothing had changed. Perhaps that was unfair. The floors and benches had been cleaned, what little glassware and other equipment that had survived since Nightmare’s rule was sorted and stacked neatly in the storage cupboards, but the cleaning was substandard and none of the raw materials or equipment she had specifically requested in her beautifully prepared and penned lists were present. Though she had to admit, the cheerful little vase of red roses was a nice touch. Alembic was curled into a tight ball in the far corner of the main room, her wings covered her eyes but Luna knew that she was close to tears. Retort stood directly in front of her, the effect of his protective display ruined by the visible tremor in his front legs. Luna sighed. Biological beings were so .. difficult. One little frustrated slip-up with using the Royal Canterlot Voice in an enclosed space meant that she had to lose at least an hour of valuable lab time calming them down. “Please, both of you, I’m not angry,” Luna ventured. “Just tell me what happened.” With a backward glance at an unresponsive Alembic, Retort began to tell the story. -- Dusk was the perfect time of the day to be a newly minted moon-pony on a mission, even if you were reduced to hiding in a bush on the outskirts of a small town. The painful direct light of the sun was muted enough to be tolerable, but strong enough to show all the bright colours of the cheerful buildings and shops of Ponyville, their gay and fanciful placards advertising all sorts of business to the wildly colourful inhabitants in their strange clothing. Some of it was comfortingly familiar to the siblings, quills and sofas having changed little over the last thousand years. Some of it was almost beyond belief. Alembic’s eyes widened in wonder as a flying machine seemingly comprised of candy canes rose laboriously from the vicinity of a building that looked like a gigantic confection, a single pink puff of a pony working furiously at the controls. Alembic fussed with the hood of her formal cloak. Princess Luna had insisted that they keep their tufted ears covered and Alembic’s webbed wings securely hidden. That was of no consequence to Retort, who kept his mane cropped close to his head but Alembics fine spray of silver would be a mass of static-charged frizz within the hour. There were drawbacks to being a moon pony. Retort counted the contents of Luna’s coin purse and checked the list for the items marked as being of the highest importance. Equestria’s golden bits had not changed very much in the last millenium, but an alarming number would be needed to purchase their supplies. Without the Princess’ explanatory notes, Retort was fairly certain he would have assumed that he could have restored the entire Castle with the bag of bits Luna had casually tossed to him as she left the laboratory. With a nod to each other for reassurance, the moon ponies set off towards the town. -- Alembic stamped the dust in frustration. The market was empty. Signs swung slowly in the evening breeze above the firmly bolted doors of the towns businesses. Fruit carts and produce stalls still lined the main street, though one or two had been upended in the panicked rush to clear the market square. The resident’s pastel manes and wide eyes were comically visible. From within the darkened buildings, from behind the square’s merry fountain and even from under several of the upended carts, several score of obviously terrified ponies watched their every move, ducking back into cover if one of the moon ponies was too obviously looking in their direction. “What do you suppose happened here?” ventured Alembic. “There are no signs of any kind of recent disaster or violence. Why do they hide from us? The princess said the wars were long finished with and thoroughly forgotten.” Retort consulted the checklist. “Perhaps they will warm to us when they see the colour of our gold. The Princess wants good quality roses for love magic, preferably red. Try knocking on that florist’s door.” Alembic gingerly approached the shuttered building. Upended buckets of blooms and a floral watering can flanked the firmly closed front door. “Hello? Is anyone there?” There was a thin squeak from within, as if somepony were stifling a squeal with their hooves. Pressing her ear to the door Alembic could hear a pony’s voice moaning lowly: “The horror! The horror!” Alembic turned sadly away from the door. “These ponies are terrified. Did the brief return of the Nightmare affect them so much? What cowards. I wonder, brother, what kind of ponies they would be had our Princess’ vision of a new Equestria prevailed.” Retort turned away from poking through the mass of spilled flowers and lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Alembic, she was completely barking mad. I am not sure that ..” “SHE WAS NOT MAD.” Unable to endure Retorts incredulous expression, Alembic studied her hooves. “She was getting better. I’m sure she was. They didn’t have to leave her all alone for a thousand years.” Retort gave his sister a quick nuzzle as he dropped a bouquet of roses into her saddle bag. “Well, at the very least I agree with your assessment of the local ponies. They may as well be made of marshmallow.” They both spun around at the sound of a disapproving snort from behind them. "Words so harsh are ill to hear, In Ponyville there’s much to fear, Monsters from Tartarus, villains of renown, It seems every week they must rebuild this town.” A zebra was picking her way through the debris, stopping every so often to regard one of the hidden locals with a quizzically lifted brow. “Parasprites, wizards, magical tests, Celestia’s student can make a huge mess. In Ponyville’s heroes we can have some pride, But most everyday ponies should just run and hide." “But.. but we are not evil. We’re not even dangerous,” interjected Alembic. The zebra sadly shook her head and lifted a hoof to point at them. “Your portentous capes, whilst practical attire, Speak to these folk of a threat most dire. You will see no business form these ponies tonight, But I may be of some assistance, what is your plight?” “Well, we..” “Hold on Alembic, I’ve got this one.” Retort ostentatiously cleared his throat and spoke: “A checklist we bear, One thousand lines of fine print, No shop is open.” Retort felt pinpricks of sweat form on his brow as several tumbleweeds rolled past, accompanied by the sound of crickets. The zebra looked like she had tasted something unpleasant and was undecided about where to spit. 'I think I’ll need to try a different tack,' he mused. “Of small compense, these ragged roses red, Bequethed, humble upon her returning hour, shall liven the grey mood of our princess dour. Freshly risen, the golden sun put abed She of the night, cold, with visage dread Our empty bags shall regard with brutal disdain Her golden bits unspent. Her checklist in vai..” “STOP THAT.” Retort suddenly found that he was a scant inch from the muzzle of an annoyed zebra. “If herbs you need, or a potion brewed, the wisdom of my people, or simply some food, come with me back to my forest home. But don’t ever again try to speak with a poem.” The zebra spun about and stalked away from the town centre, seemingly not concerned about whether her offer was accepted or not. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” ventured Retort. Alembic placed a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “It wasn’t good. Now make sure you slide some bits under the door to pay for those flowers. We’re not thieves.” “But I didn’t get to the sestet.” “We can both thank Luna for small mercies. If you had, that zebra might have hit you. I might have too. Let’s follow her.” -- “A zebra!” Luna interjected, as she accepted a cup of herbal tea from a greatly restored Alembic. She paused to delicately sniff the cup. “And with a great aptitude for preparing herbal infusions, if this tea is indeed her own work. You must have run into Zecora of the Everfree.” "Yes Princess, it was a gift. She was most accommodating, even after Retort made a foal of himself by trying to answer her in sonnets." "Oh no! Retort, did you not know that iambic pentameter is a subtle insult to a Zebra? I only hope that you did not try a limerick. You may have had a fight on your hooves." Retort looked very sheepish as he stared into his own steaming teacup. "Haiku wasn't working, it was the only thing I could think of..." Luna openly giggled and felt the last of the bad atmosphere seemingly evaporate through the thick stones of the old laboratory. ’This lack of provisions is not such a disaster. I may have been saved from making a bad decision. What was I thinking of, brewing up potions for my Twilight? How gauche. This demands a far more elegant approach. Besides, potions are so difficult to administer, if one wishes to remain discreet.’ -- After some hours at her workbench, Luna reached out to the moon in a distracted lazy way, just to feel it's comforting presence. ’Hmm, It's nearly 4am. I should finish within the hour if I want to be in Canterlot by dawn.’ In front of her gemstones were arranged by colour and grade across the surface of the bench. Several large faceted sapphires spun slowly in the air around her head. She regarded them with a suspicious eye. They had to be perfect. Gemstone magic was an ancient art that had largely fallen from favour due both to its innate complexity and the difficulty of finding the right materials. Powerful pieces like the infamous Elements of Harmony were rare for good reason. ’Perhaps if I use three at once? They could be combined into a nice necklace...’ There was a resounding crack as all three gemstones fractured into powder before her eyes. "This is useless. If these stones are to contain my power it seems that I shall have to facet them myself from the raw stock. Alembic, take a note..." Receiving no response, Luna sought out the moon ponies, finding them curled together in a corner, huddled under their cloaks. ’Sleeping? They never had to do that when they were creatures of dust and magic. Oh dear.. They don’t even have a bed. Or blankets. This is precisely why I do not keep pets.’ Luna regarded the sleeping ponies whilst she thought. Alembic had found an easy way to compensate for the lack of a soft object to sleep on by simply sprawling herself over the top of Retort. ’I imagine that Retort will have much to say on that matter when they awaken, that cannot be comfortable. I shall have to find a solution for this, and quickly.’ ’But for now, my work here is done. It is time to stretch my wings, and enjoy what little remains of my night.’