//------------------------------// // Chapter 4.5: Memories, Part 2 // Story: The Life of Fear // by Educated Guess //------------------------------// “Are you alright?” Phobos heard his mother ask. Slowly, he peeked out from beneath his hooves. The greenery around the monolith, and the foal himself, had been covered with a thin, speckled layer of gray ash. The initial heat and light had settled down to a deep, barely-audible hum and a steady glow, although the runes were still difficult to look at directly. Above him, Serena was gazing down at him with a worried smile. “I’m sorry we scared you,” she continued, brushing him off with her wing. “They don’t usually... do that.” “Do what? Explode, or drain so much power that I black out?” Terra yelled groggily from somewhere behind them. “I’m fine, by the way. Tua cura est gratus.” “Oh, quit whining. You’ve had worse,” Aqua jabbed. “Oh, really? Like what?” “Um... oh! Like that time you and Aeros spent four days straight -” “St!” Serena hissed at the pair. “You’re in no condition to move, puella. Rest here - Aqua and I will go ahead and start the next weave.” “What about me?” Phobos interjected meekly, finally standing up. “Why don’t you wait here with Terra?” Serena said, not missing a beat. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions she can answer, and you can make sure she doesn’t laze about for too long.” The answerer in question groaned, and flopped back onto the ground. Without another word, Serena and Aqua were off like pigeons fleeing a sap-hound. As they flew out of view, Phobos could swear he heard Aqua giggling, and Serena, just as giddily, shushing her. For a few minutes, he examined the monolith, trying to trace the shape and pattern of the symbols. Once, he thought he recognized vis, the rune for power and strength, but then realized that the lines were merely the center of a larger, more complex symbol that swirled at him tauntingly. When a few laps around the clearing revealed nothing else of particular interest, he settled himself down next to the bulging form of Terra. She yawned, and scratched her belly. I find it amusing, now. Before then, I had been so frightened of Terra and Aqua - their secrets, their sayings, their unshakable bond. They had been a mystery to me - a puzzle, shrouded behind what I later realized was primarily their gender. If there is one aspect of my upbringing that I can find grievance with, it is that my mother was woefully outnumbered. One mare, no matter how loving, can only do so much against the force of five stallions, even when one of those stallions is barely a shadow in the doorway. But now, here was one of these females, these enigmatic creatures - alone, and without the loud and prickly protection of her kin. At last, I could speak without fear - or at the very least, in longer sentences. “Are you... actually asleep?” Phobos asked, carefully. Slowly, Terra half-opened one amber eye to glare at him - then, just as slowly, let it close. “...No,” she said shortly. “Then - if you don’t mind me asking...” He pawed at the ground nervously. “What?” “Well... I thought that spellcasting didn’t require oral components.” “That’s right,” she said nonchalantly. Phobos stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to put together the pieces herself as Lexus or Hippocrates would. Eventually, she opened her eyes again to look at him curiously. “Did you... have an actual question?” “Oh, um,” he stammered, flustered. Hadn’t he already asked it? “Well... why were you singing?” “Ah - video quid velis.” Terra rolled over onto her stomach. “You’re right - spells don’t require oral components. But, certain kinds of spells do need rhythm, and that rhythm can be difficult to maintain when you have more than one caster working together. A song or a chant helps everyone stay in sync.” “Oh.” Ah, Terra. In the same words you would once say to me: “Tune lupo cum olere sanguinem, ipse persequetur eam.” “So, what was the song?” “Mmm,” Terra hummed warmly, a small, soft smile creeping unbidden across her face. “Just a lullaby that Hippocrates used to sing to us, when we were younger.” “Hippocrates?” Phobos asked in shock. He couldn’t imagine the dour doctor singing anything, much less a lullaby. Terra sat up, taken aback. “What’s so surprising?” “...He never sang to me,” Phobos muttered, feeling almost cheated. The earthmaster chuckled. “He wasn’t always such a luto-os, like he is now. He used to be more... more like Sanarus, actually. Happier.” “What happened?” “...Everything.” Her gaze took on the same sort of distance that he had often seen in Ignus when discussing such things, though thankfully, not as severely. “Sanarus was born, Avalon fell, Sarcio died in battle -” “Sarcio?” “His father.” Terra sighed. “Suffice to say, those times were hard on all of us. Hippocrates just took it... harder than most.” For a moment, they were silent. Phobos had never thought of Hippocrates as being a son, nor as being a surrogate father to any but himself. He did have another question, though: “What was Aqua talking about?” “Hm?” “She was saying something about you and Aeros spending four days straight -” “Hey, I’m feeling better! Let’s go!” Before the foal could blink, Terra had jumped to her hooves and strode off between the trees, nearly blowing them over in her rush. Phobos ran to catch up. “Where are we going?” he asked. “To the next Eminstone, of course.” His eyes widened. “Is that what those rocks are called?” “Ita. Named after Emine - your great-great-grandmother.” Phobos’ head, which had already been swimming with questions, began to overflow, the excess spilling out of his mouth like a babbling brook. “And - and why did that one... ‘explode’?” “It ‘exploded’ because it was almost dead. We were all but restarting it. Usually, they’re much less... violent.” “Dead?” Was the rock alive? “Out of power, curro sicca - whatever you prefer. It takes a lot of energy to keep this shield up.” Casually, Terra kicked her hoof out to the side. Where there seemed to be only empty space, it instead connected solidly with an invisible wall, making a deep, gonging sound that could more be felt in the bones than heard. Phobos stood and watched in amazement as a distorted ripple traveled up into the air, curving ever-so-slightly back towards the City before disappearing out of sight. “Wow.” He scrambled to catch up once more. “And - and you power all that? You, and Aqua, and Mother?” Terra snorted, almost laughing. “Hardly. We just keep the siphons open.” Phobos looked at her quizzically. “Uh...” She thought for a moment, piecing together an explanation. “Well, see, a shield this size would normally be impossible for just three of us to maintain. In fact, it would probably take more than a dozen of us working every day to keep it up on our power alone. What makes Eminstones work so well - and this is just one of the many ways in which Emine was a genius - is that they only require a STARTING charge from a caster. Then, they use that power to draw the rest of what they need out of the natural energy of the ground.” Phobos looked at the dirt beneath his hooves. “The ground?” “Everything has magic in it - the ground is no exception. Of course, different landscapes have different amounts. The Occidentager, for example - grasslands have a VERY low energy flow, so the stones have to stand closer together, and spend more of their power to collect it. We have to go out there more often than anywhere else. Forested areas,” She gestured around them, “last much longer - there’s a lot more life to go around. “But MOUNTAINS!” A sparkle appeared in her eye as she stared off into the distance at imaginary, snow-capped peaks. “Mountains are the strongest land of all. Their roots reach all the way down into the heart of the world. The stones in the Austermonts have only needed tending to ONCE, in all the years I’ve lived. Did you know -” “Oh, don’t tell me you got her started on mountains!” Aqua called out from somewhere in front of them. “Iuro - she talks about them like they’re her children!” “I do not!” Terra huffed, thrusting her nose into the air. “I simply have a deeper appreciation for their majesty.” As they came through the trees, Aqua was standing in the clearing ahead, rolling her one unobscured eye. “Et saxum est lapis.” “Velut fluvius est elix,” the elder retorted. Aqua scoffed indignantly. “I can’t leave the two of you alone for a moment, can I?” Serena said, appearing from behind an Eminstone slightly smaller than the first. “Don’t forget, Aqua - you’re the one that wanted to show Phobos canticumquats tonight.” “I remember!” Aqua grinned. She stuck her tongue out at Terra before trotting away, a smug grin hidden behind her bangs. “All that proves is that you’re a bad influence!” Terra yelled after her. She muttered under her breath as she walked towards the stone. “Canticumquats... ridiculous.” For many hours, they went on, curving their way through the forest. Most of the stones they came upon were large and imposing, like the first one had been, but some were barely any taller than Phobos himself. Some were not single stones, but clusters that burst out of the ground like wild thistles. Still others were intricate arrangement of tiny, hoof-sized rocks, like graveyards for the spirits of flowers. One wasn’t any sort of cairn at all. It was a roughly-built, arched cobblestone bridge, spanning what Phobos could only assume was the Anguiflum Serena had mentioned - a deep, wild river that looked liable to tear any tench or trout that lived in it fin from fin. They spent the better part of an hour there, Terra and Serena sitting at either end of the bridge while Aqua stood beneath it, neck-deep in the turgid, frothing currents. “Rivers are a bit trickier, you see,” the dripping, matted watermaster explained as they walked on. “You can’t just block it off like you would elsewhere, because that would block off the river, too. You have to make sure that the energy of the water can flow through the shield, while still holding out everything else. That’s why they bring me along. “Well, that, and Terra hates getting wet - the big pavidicat,” she finished with a sly wink. “I’m a WHAT, now?” The songs they sang during their spell-weaving were just as varied, from farming ditties in Ponnish, to call-and-response war chants in the Old Speech. There was even one slow, mournful love song in a smooth, wailing language Phobos had never heard before. “Yemanei,” Serena identified it as. “I’ve always found it to be the most poetic of the desert dialects. Even their insults have a certain... beauty.” “I’ve always preferred ugliness when it comes to insults, myself,” Terra said matter-of-factly. “It certainly is easier to stick with what you know, isn’t it?” Aqua mused, nodding sagely in agreement, a slight smile playing on her lips. Terra snorted derisively. “ .” Aqua merely tossed her bangs and pranced ahead - but at the top of the next ridge, she stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh no,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the horizon. A line of fierce orange flared out against the darkening sky, as though the sun which sank behind the hills had set their crests ablaze. “What is it?” Serena asked worriedly. “Ohno ohno ohno ohno ohno!” Aqua repeated, nervously stamping her hooves in a strange, wobbling dance. “The Ardenslacus! The day is almost gone! We have to hurry!” Without another word, she had leapt into the air, and was speeding northwards over the forest. The other three flapped wildly after her. “What IS she on about?” Terra grumbled. “The lake will still be there after dusk.” “I think she wants Phobos to see what it’s like before, as well as after,” Serena said. She chuckled a bit. “Though I will admit, she’s being far too excitable about it.” “Excitable?” Terra balked. “Potuistis aliquid dicere minus? She acted like we were under attack.” “Um,” Phobos interjected hesitantly, not wanting to sound foolish. “Aren’t we headed towards the shield?” “Actually, we passed through it a few moments ago,” said Serena. “If you have the intent of moving through it, and are permitted, it will allow it.” “Oh. ...And I’m permitted?” “Of course you are,” she said, turning to him with a smile. “You’re one of us.” ‘One of us’, indeed. If only I had had the chance to know what that would entail. Phobos had never seen a lake before, but if he had ever bothered to imagine what the perfect, quintessential lake would look like, the Ardenslacus would not have been far off. In the twilight, it was like an obsidian mirror, framed by an ornate rim of bushes and grass. Willow trees brushed their branches gently against the surface, sending miniscule waves against thin beaches of pebbles and sand. One of those beaches held an eager, grinning Aqua, the tips of her hair drifting lazily in the water. “You slow-pokes nearly missed it!” she hissed as they landed. “Quick, come here!” ‘Nearly’ was an overstatement, but nonetheless, they sat, and waited. The darkness around them was broken only by the stars above. Idly, Phobos tried to trace shapes and figures among them. There was a unicorn, and a pegasus, and an earth pony, huddled together in one corner of the sky. Another of each stood around them, their faces angry, their bodies frozen in what looked like crystals, or perhaps ice. And galloping in a circle around the six were three... he didn’t know what they were, actually. They had a head and front hooves like any other equine, but the rest of their bodies trailed off into nothingness, like wisps of smoke. They looked very... fluffy. Fluffy sounded nice. A rogue yawn escaped from his mouth. Surprised, he tried to stifle it, but found that his hooves refused to budge. He felt like he was stuck to the sand. Now that he thought about it, he had never walked so much in all his life. He could use a little rest, and it didn’t look like whatever-it-was was happening anytime soon. He set his head down on his hooves. No sooner had he felt himself drifting off to sleep, than he felt Aqua nudging his neck with her nose. “Wake up, you sleepyhead. It’s starting.” Blearily, he forced his eyes back open. The moon was rising, peeking its thin, slivered head into the sky. A flood of silver was spilling down over the treetops, covering everything in a bright sheen. The way the light glinted on the water almost made it look as though the lake was glowing. No, wait... He rubbed his eyes, and blinked. The lake was glowing. From somewhere in the murky depths, a dim blue light was glimmering, and as he looked on wide-eyed, it grew. From a single point, it spread across the entire lakebed - and from there, it grew brighter and brighter and brighter, until every drop of water shone like molten crystal. The stars which had only so recently appeared were drowned out by the intensity, leaving the moon swimming alone in a sea of darkness. The plants around them looked twisted and alien in their new underlighting, like creatures of shadow worshipping at some otherworldly portal. On one of the bushes near him, a cloud of blue sparkles appeared, pulling away with a dangling bunch of large, spherical berries, and levitating it towards them. He couldn’t tell what color they were - in the lakelight, everything was varying shades of black and bright cyan - but they looked delicious. His stomach, which had, until then, deigned to remain silent, enthusiastically agreed. He moved his head to bite one off as they passed, but Aqua jerked them out of reach. “Wait,” she said. “Watch.” Phobos looked on with a mixture of curiosity and desperation as she brought the bunch to her mouth and delicately plucked off a single berry, stem and all. With her lips squeezed tight, she squashed the fruit against her tongue, gargling the juices in her throat. Then, she pursed her lips as though to whistle - but it was not her voice that came out. In fact, it was not a voice at all. It was a soft, airy noise - like the singing of wind through gaps in a stone, but... thicker. Stronger. “Flute?” Terra guessed. Aqua shook her head snootily. “Nope. Buffalan wood pipe.” The earthmaster snorted. “You cheater.” Terra was next, though she was much rougher in her chewing than her sister had been. She opened her mouth wide, and out came a deep, woody sound that Phobos had no reference for. The best he could do was imagine what it would taste - what it would sound like if trees could talk. “Bassoon?” Serena ventured. Terra nodded, shrugging slightly. “Close enough. I was going for contrabassoon.” Phobos realized that these must have been the songberries Aqua had spoken of. His eyes followed the bunch to his mother, just as amazed as they were hungry. Serena had a fruit halfway into her mouth when his stomach interrupted her with an angry, impatient growl. She smiled, and floated it over to him instead. He snatched the berry out of the air, and began to chew. The taste was like nothing he had ever eaten. The skin had a sharp, stinging zest, like an orange and a cranberry combined, but the juice inside washed over his mouth like a wave of heavy cream, sending an ecstatic shiver down his spine. Forgetting the proper procedure, he gulped the pulp down greedily, and turned to ask for another. His eyes widened in surprise when he suddenly found his mouth being held shut by Aqua’s hoof. Her sea-green eyes were narrowed, twinkling with mischievous glee. She tapped his chin lightly to make sure the message was clear, then wriggled herself backwards along the beach. The way she ducked her head and covered her ears made it seem as though some kind of explosion was imminent, albeit one she was excited to see. His stomach gurgled menacingly. Terra, unlike her sister, had not shifted at all. When Phobos met her gaze, she simply jerked her head in Aqua’s direction and spun the tip of her hoof around her temple, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue for good measure. Finally, he turned to his mother, who, though in a similar position to the watermaster, was also where she had been before. Her smile was reassuring, but also tinged with the slightest amount of worry. Feeling pressure building up in his belly, he realized he would have to open his mouth eventually. Taking a deep breath in, he faced the lake, and burped. The belch that emerged was deafening. The surface of the water shattered, sending shards of light dancing in all directions. Strands of his mane whipped his face as he was pushed backwards by the force, his flank leaving a trail in the sand. Just as suddenly as it had come, it stopped, leaving behind the agitated splashing of water, the panicked, cacophonous cries of every animal that had been asleep within half a mile of the lake, and one pony’s hysterical giggling. “Oh, by Aura’s scraggly beard!” Aqua managed to squeeze out between gasping breaths. Her legs waved through the air as though battling with some invisible mirth spirit that had pounced upon her. It was hard to tell whether she was actually crying, or had accidentally rolled into the lake during her convulsions. Or both. “That was... even better than...” She looked to find the other three staring at her blankly, and after a few more persistent guffaws, her laughter petered out. The only sound left was a few crickets still berating them for the disturbance. She cleared her throat awkwardly, and, still on her back, floated the bunch in front of Phobos, wiggling it enticingly. “Want another?” “Anyway,” said Ignus. “That’s about it for this side of the City.” They hopped off the balcony and winged their way around the Castle, landing on another platform approximately opposite the first. “Over to the right, there, are the Gardens. If you look closely, you can see the roof of Flora’s hut in the front corner.” He looked down at his little brother, and braced himself for yet more shock and disappointment. “You’ve met Flora, right?” To his relief, Phobos nodded. “Once.” “So... why are we going to the Gardens, exactly?” Phobos queried, slightly annoyed at this spontaneous excursion. “I thought we were going to start on the writings of Genetrix the Prolific today.” The air around them buzzed and wavered. Everything, from the grass eternally warring with their hooves for control of the worn dirt road, to the trees and columns that stood close enough to be noticed but not close enough to be helpful, looked to be on the brink of melting under the harsh light of the late-morning sun. The outer walls loomed large in the distance, taunting the pair with their obstinate lack of shade. He could hear the cool, dusty confines of the library crying out to him, and feel himself pulling farther away with each reluctant step. “Ah, well, you see,” Lexus panted as they walked along the path. The already-pitiable condition of his coherency had been exacerbated by this uncharacteristic bout of activity - his icy coat was dark with sweat. “I was th-th-thinking back on our... b-botany studies, and, if you rec-recall, there were q-quite a few of your m-mu-m-more specific questions that I c-c-couldn’t answer.” “Right...” “And then I remem-em-em-membered that you haven’t met... Flora, yet, or seen the G-Garden, and I thought to m-myself, ‘Ah, there’s a f-f-filly who kn-nows her plants - why not s-s-sc-core three points with one g-g-goal?’” “Ah.” It was not technically true that he had never seen the Garden before - he and Aeros often passed over it during flight practice. From above, most of the city was a mottled mixture of plant and stone, tower and tree - but the Garden was a diamond-shaped swath of pure life. Green grasses, golden grains, and hundreds of colors of flowers battled for control of the fields, spilling over the thin gray lines that had once kept them so carefully separated. In the far corner, against the outer wall, stood a cluster of trees, huddled together to avoid being swept away in the rampant chaos of their short-lived cousins. On the opposite, nearer side was a semi-circle of close-trimmed grass, containing a short, squat wooden hut, a small stone well, and a few dozen log planter boxes, filled with the more delicate herbs that wouldn’t survive long in a straight fight against dandelions and bindweed. It was into this clearing that the pair entered, through an arched gate in the cracked, vine-ridden wall. The area was slightly more cluttered than Phobos remembered - each planter had had a slapdash structure of bamboo poles and threadbare silk erected over it to shield their inhabitants from the sun’s rays. Phobos was thoroughly jealous of them. “Flora?” Lexus called out. He knocked gingerly on the door of the hut, but nopony answered. The librarian sighed heavily, attempting to let his breath catch up with him. “St-trange - she’s almost alw-w-w-ways here, or c-close by in the f-f-fields...” He squinted, shielding his eyes with one hoof, and weakly tried again. “Flora? W-w-where are you?” “Hi!” said a bright, cheery, female voice. They both jumped. Phobos couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it certainly wasn’t coming from anypony nearby. “It looks like you’re looking for me! I’m over in the orchard at the moment - the trees wanted to talk to me about something. They may not say much, but when they do, it’s always worth listening to. “If this is Sanarus, the plants you asked for are inside on the table. You know what the key is. I hope whatever your plan is works out - don’t be too hard on them! If this is Hippocrates, the herbs you were going to ask for as an excuse for coming inside are hanging in the back shed, and you really shouldn’t be spying on Sanarus like that. If this is Ignus, you can leave a note on the stairs - you make the basil nervous. If this is Oranos, Z’alva, Patreiu. Flüriana sitarentalo, ze’ed paluvran nesol tramana veniiras l’antu.” Hǝllo' Ⅎɐʇɥǝɹ˙ ┴ɥǝ ɟloʍǝɹs ɐɹǝ ʇɥıɹsʇʎ' qnʇ ʇɥǝ ɹɐıu ɯnsʇ sʇıll ɔoɯǝ sloʍlʎ˙ Phobos gasped in shock, clutching at his head. His vision was overcome by a sudden maelstrom of images and emotions. They flashed by like sparks in the wind, too quickly for him to understand - a field of flowers, all in bloom - the sun, white hot, raging - a lone, blurry figure traipsing along the crest of a dune, surrounded by nothing but sand as far as the eye could see - a swarm of clouds gathering on the horizon, dark and grumbling with thunder - rain tapping gently on a window pane - a terrified voice far off in the darkness, crying out for something, though he couldn’t quite make out what - a long-legged insect crawling along the surface of a pond. Just as quickly as they had come, they ceased, leaving the foal feeling dizzy and sick, like his brain had been cranked around in one direction while his stomach had been flipped the other. Lexus seemed unaffected. Phobos was about to ask the librarian what in the wide world that had been, when the voice continued. “If you’re anyone else, or if it’s really, really important, you can wait here for me to come back. I’ll warn you, though - that’ll probably be loooong after nightfall. Possibly even tomorrow. Sorry for the inconvenience!” “Oh,” said Lexus, still attempting, without much success, to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Hm. Well, I... suppose we c-c-could... try again, another day.” Phobos cocked an eyebrow. “She sai- urp.” A hoof went to his mouth as a wave of nausea burbled up his throat. He swallowed it back down, and tried again, somewhat croakily. “She said she was in the orchard. Can’t we just go find her?” Lexus turned to look at the short line of trees, which stood as an enticing bastion of cool darkness, far across the fields of hazy green and golden fire. He appeared to be weighing the pros and cons of leaving the paltry pool of shadow provided by the hut’s eaves. Eventually, he came to a decision. “Um,” he began, stepping slightly backwards towards the wall of the house. “Well... you can, if you’d like, I sup-p-pose. I’ll, uh...” He sank down onto his knees, grunting quietly in relief as he folded his aching hooves underneath him. “I’ll w-wait here.” Phobos blinked at him a few times, then sighed, shook his head, (not a good idea - it made his skull feel like it was coming apart at the seams) and set off towards the orchard. As he trudged deeper into the fields, his mind gradually settled back into place, and he began to feel much better. The grasses were even wilder than he had thought, growing far above his head, and filtering the sunlight to much-more-bearable levels. The ground was soft and loamy beneath his hooves, and radiated a delectable, musty cold. He allowed himself to follow the slight traces of disused paths that lay hidden here and there amongst the blooming flowers, meandering in incomprehensible and circuitous routes. Occasionally, he would come across the remnants of an old dividing wall, and use its height to boost his head above the surface, and correct his course. Eventually, he clambered his way out of the sea of stalks and leaves, and up the slight mound on which rested the orchard. The trees, though beautiful and varied, were drab compared to the rest of the field, having shed their blossoms weeks ago. On each old and gnarled branch, the first green, delicate signs of apples and cherries and mangos, and a dozen other fruits, were just beginning to peek out of their buds. “Hello?” he called out. Only the breeze responded, whistling out from between the trunks to tousle his hair playfully. It felt cool against his sweat-soaked fur, but that made it no less annoying. He scowled, patted down his mane, and forged ahead. The orchard seemed much bigger from the inside, but it still wasn’t long before he had found what he was looking for. In the center of the trees was a small clearing, surrounded by an evenly spaced ring of seven tall, slender rowan trees, and in the center of the clearing was Flora. She sat with her eyes closed and her ears held high, as though straining to catch some distant melody. I wish I could say that my heart raced at the sight of the sun shining on her pearly fur. That her emerald hair fell from her head with the grace of rolling hills - that the flowers she wore in her mane were made infinitely more beautiful by their being there. I wish I could say that my breath caught in my throat, and was only coaxed out again by the gentle rising and falling of her own. I wish I could say that time slowed as I approached, and that when she turned her head to look at me, the brief moment when her sky-blue eyes met mine, and refused to part, seemed to last an eternity. She deserved that much, and so much more. But I was young, and naive, and did not know of such things - and my affections would someday fall elsewhere. “Hello?” Phobos ventur- “AAAH!” Flora leapt into the air, all at once whirling around to face her assailant and scrambling to flee. When she found him to be only another alicorn, she sighed heavily in relief, and fell back to the ground. “You shouldn’t sneak up on ponies like that!” she chided, reaching up with one hoof to straighten the lily behind her ear. Phobos tried to say “I’m sorry,” but found that his vocal cords had been stunned by Flora’s scream. When she received no response, Flora looked at him curiously, and only then realized that he was somepony she had never seen before. She blinked a few times, then smiled as she finally made the connection. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “You must be Phobos!” He nodded. “I’ve been wondering when I would get to meet you! Aqua told me all about you when she helped with the watering last week.” She looked him up and down. “You’re much larger than I expected, though. How old are you?” “Five-and-a-half,” he finally managed to say. Flora gawked in disbelief. “Five-and-a... goodness, time just flies, doesn’t it? Tell you what, let’s... uh, hold on.” She turned back to the trees, and the sound of leaves rustling in the wind somehow emerged from her throat. Phobos swore he could hear the rowans creaking in response. “Sorry - we were just in the middle of discussing some... very important things. But!” She threw her leg around his shoulder, and led him back towards the edge of the orchard. “I’d say you’re a bit more important, at the moment! We’ve got a lot to catch up on!” Ignus nodded in return. “Good. And lastly, over to our left, is what used to be the main Assembly Hall.” “One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four...” The Assembly Hall had survived much better than most of the structures around it, mostly due to the fact that it had never been much of a structure to begin with. Tiered rings of flat stone seating surrounded a large, circular dirt stage, where the debaters, orators, and leaders of old would present their speeches, opinions, and plans to the gathered masses. Now, of course, there were no masses to be gathered, and Bellic had long since turned the arena of the mind into an arena of the body. “...Two, three, four, one, two, left face! One, two, three, four...” The black stallion stood to one side, barking out his chant to Aeros and Ignus, who opposed each other in the ring. They circled each other carefully, their steps in time with their father’s voice. Occasionally, he would interrupt the “One, two, three, four”s with “right face”, “reverse”, or “back five”, and the two brothers would turn to the side, or change direction, or take a few steps towards or away from each other. But always, they circled. It looked rather boring. Phobos had been curious about what exactly went on in his father’s infamous training sessions, and Bellic had grudgingly allowed him to watch. So far, he wasn’t terribly impressed. They had started with a variety of push-ups, wing-ups, and other such warm-up exercises, and had moved immediately to this circling, which had now gone on unbroken for the better part of five minutes. Flora, sitting beside him, was similarly baffled. “I’ve never watched them before either,” she admitted. “I’ve always been too busy. Although...” She put a hoof to her chin in concentration. “I think I remember Aeros describing this to me, once. Something about...” “Being ready to attack or defend from any angle at any time,” Ignus recited as he walked backwards past them. Flora nodded, unphased. “That sounds about right.” Phobos watched the circling for a few more seconds, then turned and asked the obvious question. “When does the attacking happen?” As if on cue, Bellic’s chant ended. “...One, two, air defend!” Aeros barely had time to turn himself around before the first of Ignus’ blasts whizzed past his head. The firemaster was relentless in his assault, his horn blazing white-hot, his body twisting and undulating wildly as he kicked out burst after burst of flame. It was amazing that he didn’t break himself in half. Aeros, by comparison, barely moved at all. With the grace of a breeze, he ducked, weaved, side-stepped, and twirled, his silver hair trailing behind him. Only occasionally would he use his magic to bat aside a stray fireball or tongue of flame. It almost looked like he was dancing, and this fact only seemed to be making Ignus more furious. This went on for almost a minute, with the flailing Ignus never landing a single hit on the waltzing Aeros. In a last-ditch effort, Ignus dug his hooves into the ground and summoned an enormous  jet of fire. Aeros seemed to have anticipated this, and deftly jumped to the side. With a flare of his own magic, he curled the stream around himself, forming a ring of concentrated flame. Then, with a single, decisive blast, he hurled the ring back at Ignus. A few moments later, Phobos gingerly uncovered his eyes. Ignus, and a large patch of the ground around him, was blackened and smoking. Aeros only looked slightly disheveled, but both brothers were panting, and staring at each other intensely. “Hut, two, march left!” Bellic bellowed. “One, two, three, four...” Without hesitation, the circling began again, as though it had never stopped. Flora shook her head sadly. “Honestly, I don’t much see the point. This barely qualifies as practice - all they’re doing is beating each other up.” “Yeah, well,” Aeros chuckled, walking by sideways. “Sometimes he needs a bit of beating.” It was only about half a minute until the coin came down the other way. “...Two, three, four, one, two, fire defend!” The fight was over almost before it started. Aeros simply lit his horn, and Ignus, who had been sinking into a defensive stance, was flung up into the air by a gust of wind. He twirled around several times, before landing on his back with a dull whumph. “Urgh!” Ignus grunted, more in disgust than in pain, as he rolled back onto his hooves. “You always do that!” “And you always do the big-jet-of-fire thing!” Aeros shrugged, and grinned evilly. “It’s not my fault you’re so predictable.” “Hut, two, march right! One, two, three, four...” Flora sighed in something akin to defeat. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand those two.” Such moments are the ones I miss most - but as with all things, they could not last forever.