//------------------------------// // 6: Experience // Story: The Successors // by Portmeirion //------------------------------// In spite of some bad hide-and-seek experiences early on, the forest behind Blue Moon and Summer Sun’s home eventually became the sisters’ favorite place to play – at least during the daytime. In spring and summer the treetops shone a wonderful leafy-green in the sunlight, and fresh breezes would come whistling through the trunks, shivering the branches and making the woods ring with a song of its own. Summer, having long since conquered her fear of getting lost, would lead expeditions through the bright greenery in search of lands unknown. Blue Moon would follow close behind, carrying her trusty map and compass in a saddlebag, making note of every new landmark they uncovered. It was perfect fun for both of them: Summer got to tramp through the woods, and Blue got to practice her cartography, and best of all, they got to spend hours together, just the two of them. On one particular summer afternoon, the pair stumbled across a shallow, muddy creek they had never seen before that ran along the bottom of a small, but steep, ravine. A thick, mossy oak trunk lay fallen across the ditch, forming what looked to be a serviceable bridge. Determined to prove that the woods no longer frightened her, Summer leapt onto the log. “Up here, Blue! This way!” “I dunno, Summer,” Blue replied. “That log doesn’t look very safe. It’s all covered with moss. You’ll probably fall.” Doubt clouded Summer’s bright eyes for the briefest of moments before bravado drove it out. “Aw, c’mon, Blue! It’s not that bad! See?” She stepped a couple of pace further onto the bridge, taking care not to slip on the moss. Aurora watched, flabbergasted. “Summer! Be careful!” “It’s okay!” Summer assured her, stepping forward again, now quite confident in her own sense of balance. “It’s not scary at all! All you have to do is not look down!” Needless to say, at the very moment Summer spoke, she looked down – and saw that the ditch was a fair bit deeper than she had first thought. The murky stream that ran along the bottom suddenly looked like a tiny, distant river on the floor of a grand canyon. A sudden dizziness took hold of her, and she swayed uneasily on the bridge. “B-Blue?” she called out. “I-I-I can’t move! Blue!” “Don’t panic!” Blue shouted, struggling to follow her own advice. “Just… just turn around really slowly, and come back!” Trembling, Summer obeyed, turning as slowly as she dared. Then her hoof met a particularly slippery patch of moss. Then, suddenly, the sky was where the ground should be, and there was a loud shriek and a terrible splash. Twenty minutes later, she found herself, bruised and band-aided, neck deep in the sudsy water of her bathtub back home. “I’m sorry, Blue,” she mumbled. “Thanks for fishing me out. You’re always taking care of me.” “It’s okay,” replied her sister, who sat just beside the tub. “It’s what I’m here for, remember? Just… just don’t do things like that, okay? You really scared me.” Summer nodded sadly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to show you that I wasn’t scared.” “I know, Summer. But you should probably say you’re sorry to Mom and Dad, too. They’re the ones who really took care of you; I just pulled you out of the water.” “M’kay.” Summer hung her head, eyes closed – and then, after a brief spell of silence, she grinned. “Hey, Blue?” “Yes, Summer?” “Thanks for being there. I’m really glad you’re my sister.” Blue wasn’t sure what to say. She just smiled in return. Tally Mark’s office, situated on the uppermost floor of Ponyville’s city hall, was a modest square room with beige walls, a hardwood floor, and a great mahogany desk sitting just in front of a wide window. The desktop was buried under mountains of paperwork, stacked and organized roughly into “to do” and “done” sections; the former pile was much larger than the latter. After seeing the princesses off, she had come back expecting a long night of tiresome reading, scribbling her signature on dotted lines, and turning page after uninteresting page. She most certainly did not expect Aurora and Corona to return a mere few hours later, and she’d expected them to bring a live changeling into her office even less. “You just found it?” she asked, peering with suspicious eyes over stacks of papers at the timid creature on Corona’s back. “Well, uh…we….” Corona stuttered. “No,” Aurora stepped in. “It… she attacked us. This is the ‘ghost’ that everypony has been seeing, masquerading as Nightmare Moon to feed on ponies’ fear. I don’t know how she copied the form, though – wouldn’t she have had to see Nightmare Moon with her own eyes first?” Tally Mark nodded hastily. “There’s an old statue of Nightmare Moon just on the border of the Everfree,” she explained. “We used to hold Nightmare Night celebrations there, before the forest began to grow more dangerous.” She glared again at the little changeling. “But… I’m sorry, your highnesses, but what is it doing here? Is it not responsible for the foalnappings?” “She couldn’t be!” Corona objected. The changeling hopped down off of her back as she spoke, and stood wobbling on weak legs before collapsing to the floor in a tired heap. Corona scooped her up with magic and set the tired creature on her back again. “The poor little thing was starved. If she had been stealing love from foals, wouldn’t she have been healthier?” Aurora nodded in solemn agreement. “My sister has a point. Eleven foals would keep a changeling well-fed for years. And besides, I searched the ghost town; there was nowhere she could’ve been hiding them. I hate to say it, but I don’t think that our ‘ghost’ problem is related to the disappearances.” “But it is responsible for the ponies in the hospital?” Tally Mark probed, eyeing Aurora uncertainly. “Well… yes,” Aurora admitted. “But she’s not like that anymore!” Corona cut in. “She was just scared and hungry and alone!” “What she means,” Aurora explained to the confused Mayor, “is that this creature was just lashing out from instinct, and probably desperation as well. When Summer – when Princess Corona voluntarily offered her love, it… changed her somehow. For the better.” “Now she really likes me,” Corona continued, looking back at the changeling. “Aw, look! Now she’s fallen asleep.” “The point,” Aurora finished, “is that I don’t think she’s much of a threat anymore.” The Mayor looked back and forth between the two princesses. Aurora had a worn and frazzled look about her, but Corona was in even worse shape – her legs coated to the knees in dry brown mud, her golden mane mussed and tangled, her once-smooth coat all speckled with dirt. She smiled, but it was a weary smile, so faint and fragile that it looked likely to disappear entirely if the princess didn’t get some rest soon. Tally Mark lowered her head with a quiet sigh as she worked her troubled mind. At length, Aurora spoke up again. “If there’s anything else we can do….” After a pause, Tally Mark shook her head. “No, thank you, Princess. You’ve done this town a wonderful honor just by coming here. I can ask no more of you tonight.” Aurora smiled in reply, but her glad expression was tainted with shame. “I… I appreciate your kind words, Mayor. I’m so sorry we couldn’t have been more helpful.” “It’s quite all right,” the Mayor assured her, after hesitating for an instant. “You’ve solved the more baffling of our mysteries: the mysterious alicorn, the comatose ponies, Pink Pearl’s story – hm, I suppose she’ll want to know about this, too.” She laughed gently, imagining how her friend might react to the news, before her smile faded again. “We’ll just have to continue our search for the missing foals ourselves.” “But we can still help with that!” Corona argued, though her argument might’ve sounded stronger if it hadn’t ended in a colossal yawn. She blinked tiredly. “Or, um… maybe we can come back another time and help.” Tally Mark nodded. “Perhaps that’s for the best.” Aurora bowed her head in gratitude, and Corona followed her example. “Thank you, Mayor. You’ve been remarkably patient with us both. If there’s anything more we can do for you, or for Ponyville….” “I assure you, Princess,” Tally Mark said earnestly, “It’s me who should be thanking you. But… I’m sorry, your highnesses, but I must know: what do you plan to do with that?” She pointed a hoof at the changeling. Both princesses’ eyes fell upon the tiny creature, still resting atop Corona’s back. She yawned, fluttered her insect wings, and snuggled her smiling face closer into Corona’s yellow coat. “We haven’t quite decided yet,” Aurora admitted after an uncomfortable silence. “We could take her back to the palace!” Corona suggested brightly. “I wonder if they’d let us keep her there….” “Probably not,” Aurora answered quietly. Her face darkened, and for a moment she looked broodingly at the floor. Then her head rose again, and she met Tally Mark’s gaze with pleading eyes. “In the mean time, Mayor – would you mind, well… not mentioning this to anypony? The changeling, I mean.” “You certainly don’t need to ask me, your highness,” replied the Mayor. “But… well, the fact is that there are over a dozen ponies sleeping in our hospital right now. Knowing that a changeling is responsible would make it much easier to help them, to know how best to treat them.” Corona frowned sadly. “Oh. I didn’t think about that….” Aurora scrunched her face in contemplation. Keeping the changeling a secret was one thing, but the thought of outright lying to her subjects churned her stomach. “Perhaps,” she said at last, “I could show the changeling to one of our researchers back in Canterlot. I’m sure he or she could figure out a treatment.” For several seconds, Tally Mark seemed to contemplate this. Then she nodded. “That sounds reasonable. But I must implore you, your highness: please hurry. I can’t keep the truth from my citizens indefinitely, not when a solution is so close at hoof.” “I understand,” said Aurora, and meant it wholeheartedly. She hadn’t forgotten her promise. Something will be done. With that, they left the Mayor’s office. Corona briefly woke the sleepy changeling so that she could resume her owl disguise, and once their guards rejoined them, they made their way to the carriage. The ride back to the train station was blanketed by an uneasy quiet, and Aurora and Corona found themselves unable to meet each other’s eyes. The “owl” had now hopped up on Corona’s shoulder and perched there, sleeping; the guards silently accepted its presence, and marched along in perfect step behind them all the way to the station. Black smoke was already rising from the locomotive’s funnel by the time they arrived, and within a minute they were on their way home. The train ride was slightly less uneasy. The windows were still overhung with thick curtains, and the warm golden glow of the coach’s wall-mounted lamps was cozy and soothing. Free of the guards’ overbearing presence, Aurora at last spoke, unburdening her troubled mind. “We can’t keep her,” she said to her sister, eyeing the sleeping changeling. “You know that, don’t you?” “Of course we can!” Corona argued. “Nopony needs to know about her yet. Except maybe Glass Eye. He wouldn’t mind, would he?” “But we can’t keep her a secret forever. Summer, we’re struggling to gain approval as it is. How would the rest of Canterlot react if they found out that we’re keeping a live changeling in the palace?” “But we can’t just turn her over to the council!” Corona hugged the “owl” closer to her chest. “They wouldn’t understand. They’d probably try to hurt her somehow! Can’t we just let Glass Eye see her? He’d know what to do. He always does.” Aurora sighed. “Summer, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. I just… I just….” Her head fell in silence, and for a moment she simply sat listening to the quiet clacking of the train-wheels as it raced along the tracks. When she spoke again, her voice was low and uneasy. “I’ll talk this over with Glass Eye,” she agreed. “But we can’t just let this issue sit forever. We’ve got a bigger responsibility to our subjects than to one little changeling.” Corona frowned, but nodded. “I understand,” she said sullenly. After that, the ride was silent all the way back to Canterlot. When at last they arrived, it was still some hours before sunrise. More guards met them at the train station and escorted them through the city’s quiet streets back to the palace. It was a short walk down a wide stone boulevard, but it felt much longer to the sisters for the weight on their shoulders – or rather, the weight that sat perched, still sleeping, on Corona’s shoulder. The silvery moon above seemed unusually bright, shining down on them like a comforting smile, a friendly face trying to tell them that all was well. Corona eventually relaxed, but Aurora’s mood only seemed to grow darker. Glass Eye met them just inside the gate and received them warmly. Leaving the troop of guards behind, they followed him down the dim castle hallways and upstairs to his office, where he stopped just outside the tall wooden door. “It would appear you two had quite the adventure,” he said with a sly grin, noting Corona’s muddy legs, missing shoes, and disheveled mane. The sun princess grinned sheepishly in reply. “Heh heh… yeah, I guess you could say that.” She then looked down and blushed, seeing that her muddy hooves had left tracks across the elegant carpeted floor. A sudden flash of guilt struck her when she realized that she must have left Tally Mark’s office in the same state. “Hey, Aurora?” she said. “Would you, would you mind if I got a bubble bath? Right now?” Aurora nodded understandingly. “Go right ahead. I’ll explain everything.” Her horn glowed with a pale blue-white energy, and she magically lifted the still-slumbering “owl” from Corona’s back to her own. The old unicorn eyed it curiously, but smiled in tentative approval. “A new friend, perhaps?” he inquired as he opened the door for her. “Exactly,” Aurora muttered, stepping inside. Glass Eye took a moment to turn back and offer Corona a friendly wink before joining the other princess in the office. The door closed, leaving her alone in the hallway. Tiredly, Corona made her way up the spiraling tower staircase and stepped through the door just beside her bedchambers. Inside was a spacious and warmly-lit room of beautiful white stone, at the center of which stood a large round bathtub. After shedding her mud-stained regalia, the weary princess selected a few soaps from a nearby shelf, switched on the faucet with a loud squeak, and settled into the tub as it quickly filled with steaming-hot water. A bubble bath, Corona quickly discovered, was precisely what she needed. After hours of trekking through woods and sitting uncomfortably in trains and carriages, just the steamy air and soothing scent of the soap was indescribably rejuvenating. Already she could feel the sudsy water lifting the grime off of her coat. She sighed contentedly, relaxing her weary, aching limbs as she sank deeper into the foam, happy for the moment just to lose herself and forget. Aurora would work everything out, she told herself – just like she always did. At some point in her repose she must have fallen asleep. A knock on the door jarred her awake and she sat up quickly. “Hello? Who’s there?” “It’s me.” Aurora stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation; she knew her sister wouldn’t mind. She shut the door behind her and made her way to the side of the tub. Corona smiled at her – but her smile faltered when she remembered what Aurora had spoken with Glass Eye about. “So, um… what did he say?” “He’s agreed to let us keep the changeling hidden for now,” Aurora explained. “On the grounds that….” She seemed to struggle crossly with the rest of her sentence, but at length the words came crawling uncomfortably out of her mouth. “…on the grounds that I take her to see Lord Stargazer tomorrow, and let him figure out what to do.” She shuddered at the thought. “But that wasn’t all we talked about. Do you remember that this was supposed to be a test of our abilities? To see if we could handle a crisis?” “Oh, yeah. Did we pass?” Aurora shrugged. “Well, we didn’t quite pass, and we didn’t quite fail. Glass Eye thinks we did the best we could, given the situation. He went to speak with the council for a short spell; the only thing they all agreed on is that we’d been through enough for one night. Lost in the woods, attacked by a ‘wild animal’ – it was enough to convince them to give us a few days off.” “Oh. That’s good, I guess.” “Mm-hmm.” Silence fell, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. In the aftermath of a misadventure, the sisters finally felt at ease to simply enjoy each other’s company. Corona sank back into the bath, and Aurora sat close beside her, staring across the room and out the window on the far wall at the cold, starry sky beyond. “Blue,” Corona finally spoke up. “I’m sorry.” There was an uneasy shadow in her voice. “Sorry?” Aurora echoed. “About what?” “Everything.” The shadow in Corona’s voice spread to her face, and she looked down shamefully. “I was all kind of my fault, really. I got us lost in the swamp. I fell in the bog. I got hurt by the ‘ghost.’ You had to save me, and Glass Eye has to cover for us, and Tally Mark got mud tracked all over her nice office floor.” She turned, casting her sad gaze out the window as this new, unhappy thought flowered in her mind. “It’s always been like that, hasn’t it? You have to save me, and somepony else has to clean up the mess.” “If it makes you feel any better,” Aurora said tenderly, “it’s really mostly my fault.” Corona turned to look at her. “What do you mean?” “I’ve been trying to be the sensible one,” Aurora continued. “I’ve been trying to be the one who takes care of you, of Equestria, of everything. But I haven’t been doing that at all. I’ve made awful decisions. I led us head-first into a problem we weren’t ready to solve. I let you get hurt. And now I’m keeping a secret from most of the kingdom. Summer… Summer, I’m a terrible princess. And I’m a terrible sister.” Corona sat silently for a while as well. The shadow over her face seemed to grow deeper – and then, in a strange flash of insight, it started lift. A faint smile broke out on her lips, like the summer sun, her namesake, peering out from behind a wall of clouds. “I guess that just means we both have a lot to learn,” she said. Her voice brightened considerably. “And you know what? It’s okay. I mean, you don’t need to worry about it or anything. We’re not perfect, but we’re getting there, aren’t we? We’re still just learning.” “Well, I suppose so,” Aurora conceded. “And besides,” Corona went on, “I don’t care how good a princess you are, or how many mistakes you make, or anything.” She turned her smile directly on Aurora. “I’m still really glad you’re my sister.” For several seconds, Aurora stared back at her with glistening eyes, unsure of what to say. That smile was so warm, so bright, so sincere, that it seemed to melt her worries away entirely. “Th-thank you,” she said at last, with a noticeable catch in her voice. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.” “It’s no big deal,” said Summer, sinking blissfully back into the sudsy water. “Now go on! You’re probably gonna need a bath, too. Lemme have mine!” “Okay, okay!” Aurora turned and stepped away from the tub, shaking her head and suppressing a laugh. She stopped at the door and smiled back. “I love you, Summer. I’m… I’m glad you’re my sister, too.” “Love you too, sis. And thanks.” “Good night.” “G’night.”