Chapter IV: Tea Time Part I
While many parents may dream of their foal arriving home with royalty, most begin hyperventilating when it actually happens. Swift and Mahogany fit rather nicely into this generally accepted fact.
Mahogany Glee was well aware that her son was gifted in the field of magic, both practical and theoretical, but, well, she never expected to be sharing tea with Princess Celestia in her living room because of it. It all started as a normal afternoon...
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“Honey, Swift, have you seen Fair?”
Swift Drift was sitting on a couch in the living room working on some annoying calculations for a very luxurious piece of cloudwork for a noble couple in Cloudsdale. He was sav- I mean interrupted by his wife calling to him from the doorway to her workshop.
“Hmm? No, he probably went to play with Canvas’ niece.”
“I’m sure you’re right, there’s no telling what those two are up to.” As she was saying that she was concurrently walking to where her husband was sitting. Reaching him, she nuzzled his wing, which he lifted up and enveloped her in, whilst simultaneously placing his papers on the nearby coffee table.
Swift’s mood was now much improved from what it had been, he’d trade paperwork for a cuddle with his wife any day.
“Those two remind me of us when we were their age.” Swift nuzzled his wife’s cheek as he talked.
“Please, we were worse.” Mahogany mumbled this into her husband’s chest. “*sigh* I need this. I think I had to sacrifice part of my soul to finish that last order. Who needs a fan made of Makassar Ebony? I must have gone through a dozen pieces before I managed to get that last blade. The client probably won’t like it anyway, I told her she’d want something less eye catching for a fan.*sigh*” She looked up from his chest and looked him in the face. “How’s your torture going?”
“Me? I’m doing fine. You know, aside from the whole lightning bed project.” With that he laid his head down on the couch and pouted in a manner Mahogany thought very cute. “I can’t fathom how anypony expects a bed to emit static electricity on demand, not erupt when you bounce on it, and on top of it all, charge itself passively without turning the entire house into a thunderhead. *sigh* It’s like they want a bomb you can kick like a ball, use as a headrest, and then explode and put itself back together in time for your soccer game.”
Mahogany giggled at her husband’s little rant. “Aww, honey. It’ll be okay. Just ask Fair to help you.”
“That’s a good idea, maybe he can put a fireball in there, give my clients a real piece of my mind.” He sighed and sat back up. “Speaking of our little pyromaniac, he should be home now, it’s almost-”
“-time for dinner? I hope you feel like getting takeout, because ‘our little pyromaniac’ burnt down my vegetable garden.”
Swift facehoofed, which his wife giggled at, and said, “That colt is either gonna be a war-mage or a lawyer. Either way he’ll burn ponies.” He gave his wife a cheesy smile, “Pretty good huh?”
Mahogany rolled her eyes, “Don’t quit your day job dear.”
Swift stuck his snout in the air, “Hmmph, some ponies just don’t know good comedy.”
“W-”
*knock-knock* “Hello?” A stallion’s voice sounded from behind the front door
“You get back to your work dear, I’ll get the door.” Mahogany stood from the couch and made her way over to the door. She expected to see a potential client when she opened the door, not a Royal Guard.
“Hello, miss Glee?” The guard asked.
“Umm, yes, sir that’s me. Who are you, may I ask?” She asked, noticing the incredibly lavish carriage on the street behind the guard.
“I’m Lieutenant Sacred Oath, personal guard to Her Majesty Princess Celestia. The Princess has arrived with your son and his friend and requests an amount of your time to discuss the future of your son.” This was delivered with a warm, if not quite friendly, tone.
With her jaw somewhere on the ground around the front porch, and her eyes ready to relocate to a socket capable of fitting them, it could be said that Mahogany was somewhat, to a degree, perhaps, slightly, as in it wouldn’t be an overly long stretch to say, well, she was blown completely away, flabbergasted, wholly and unadulteratedly shocked.
To move this verbosity along she said, with a voice like a lotus leaf floating over a minefield, “Swift, dear, make some coffee.”
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…and now she was having a "chat" with the immortal, universally revered and feared, Goddess of the Sun, and Supreme Monarch of Equestria, Princess Celestia.
And it was only Tuesday.
Her son and his friend were off playing in the backyard, probably in the ashes of her vegetable garden.
She hoped her eye twitch wasn’t overtly obvious.
Oh, and not to forget, she was discussing her son’s entire future with said Princess-Goddess.
“Your son is exceptionally talented, Miss Glee, Mister Drift, the average adult unicorn would experience at least moderate thaumaturgical fatigue after welding military grade steel alloy, but your son did all that without breaking a sweat. In fact, I daresay he could exert four or five times more effort before beginning to experience any substantial fatigue. And with training? I believe prodigy is a term aptly applied to him, and by extension, his friend, Vinyl Scratch. Whose uncle should be joining us shortly.”
Swift was about to speak, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. The guard that Mahogany first spoke to magicked open the door from his position beside it, and in trotted Canvas Scratch, and the other guard who promptly shut the door and assumed a guard position on the remaining side of it.
He bowed, “Princess Celestia.”
“Oh, Mister Scratch we were just speaking of you. Please do join us, I believe you and our gracious hosts are acquainted?”
“I teach general art to their son, yes ma’am.” Canvas seemed rather, perhaps not unfazed, but composed. Mahogany was more than a little envious of his ability.
“Oh, let me get you some coffee Mister Scratch.” Mahogany was eager to get a quick respite from the mental onslaught that was this conversation. Her husband was on his own for the moment.
“Thank you, Miss Glee, that would be lovely.” Canvas Scratch took a seat on one of the cushions around the coffee table. Celestia occupied the couch, as, for some odd reason, the owners of the house had quickly vacated it and left it open.
“Two sugars?” Mahogany called from the kitchen.
“I’ll take it without sugar, if you don’t mind.”
“Is there anything we can do for you, Your Highness?” Swift asked, pointedly looking away and below the gaze of Her Most Immaculate Majesty.
“I thank you for the kind offer, Mister Drift, but I wouldn’t want to trouble you; I am quite alright.” Celestia declined the offer with a small smile.
“Tea, coffee, swan, anything?” Swift continued nervously, looking up at Her Majesty for the smallest fraction of a second.
“Some tea would be lovely, if you please.” Imperceptible to nearly anypony, excepting her guards, Celestia gave the smallest of sighs.
“Right away, Your Highness.” Swift upheld his moniker and was beside his wife in the kitchen in what was, more or less, a new world record for the twelve meter dash.
“So, Mister Scratch,” Celestia took her attention away from the quickly retreating form of the pegasus and toward Canvas Scratch, “Let’s get right to business.”
“A sweet hello to you too, Celestia.” Canvas stuck his snout in the air with a clearly over exaggerated look of indignation.
“I’d be careful if I were you Canvas, wouldn’t want a certain painting to be mysteriously stolen and end up in the hooves of an EQD reporter, would we?” She threatened with a sadistic little grin, and Canvas couldn’t tell if she was serious or messing with him.
“Celly, you wouldn’t.” He wasn’t sure where his jaw was, but it certainly wasn’t with the rest of his face.
“Wouldn’t I, Canny?” Celestia had the sweetest, most “You’re right where I want you,” look possible adorning her trickster's face.
Canvas sighed, “Fine Celestia, I’m too old for this, what do you want?” he looked her straight in the eyes.
“I want to put your niece and her friend in CSGU’s EP-YGaD program.” She disposed of any playfulness and jocularity, business time.
The guards, of course, hadn’t done more than respirate the entire time.
“Yes!” Celestia gave his euphoric countenance an incredulous, and disapproving, glare. He wilted noticeably and defended, “Don’t get me wrong, I love the filly, she’s great kid, but I can’t take care of her, not full time. Between my job and my job I have a pretty full plate, for a sixty-eight year old stallion. And, to be honest, my health isn’t all that great, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be around, but I have pretty good chance of kicking the bucket before the kid is eighteen.”
“Don’t say that Canvas, you’re stronger than you know.”
“Even so Celestia, the kid doesn’t have anywhere to go when I go, this is perfect.” He looked pleased with his defense, then his eyes widened slightly, as if realizing something that should have been obvious. “Umm, I’m grateful and all, but why?”
Celestia gave a small laugh, “I was wondering when you’d actually hear what I said. And to answer your question: Your niece’s general thaumaturgical potential is somewhere around four million PSTU, and Fair’s is about four point five million.”
“Y-y-you can’t be serious, that’s extraordinarily high. I’m three hundred seventy-five thousand, and that’s considered uncommonly high.” Canvas looked like he might need a few, no most, actually ALL his medications, and a doctor to prescribe refills and at least a crate of new chemically engineered somewhat legal medications
“There’s more. Will you be oka-”
“THERE’S MORE!?”
“Indeed. I suspect that, with proper training, these two could become the most powerful unicorns in at least seven hundred years. Maybe the most powerful since Star Swirl.”
“I-I can’t-I mean that’s-that is incredible. I wish Meadows was here to hear this.”
“I suspect that if you had become much louder she may have very well heard you. I am well aware that our gracious hosts did, and on that note: they are more than welcome to join us.” Celestia turned herself from Canvas and toward the kitchen doorway, where two sheepish ponies made their way out.
“I apologize Your Ma-”
“I apologize Prince-”
The two looked at each other.
“What I mean is-”
“We were looking for the light switch.”
All eyes went to Swift.
Mahogany facehooved, “Honey, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you ever learned to talk, but it’s more like a curse.”
“But the light switch IS out here. It’s right here.” He flicked it a couple of times to demonstrate.
“Honey, open your eyes and get that smug grin off your face.”
Swift did as his wife said, and promptly realized the room was dark. “Why-”
“Dear.”
“Oh. I’ll go finish the coffee.” He started towards the doorway only to bump his snout into the wall. “Ow. Ponyfe-”
Before he could finish that mysterious word, that will forever remain a mystery, his wife magicked him into the kitchen. Except it was still dark and she instead rammed him into the wall.
“OH MY GOSH! HONEY ARE YOU OKAY!?” Mahogany rushed to her husband’s side, as Celestia magicked on the lights, well aware of what would happen if she didn’t.
“Never better dear.” He said as he dislodged his head from its designer wall mount. “I think I’ll just go water the coffee machine and pour the kids. Wouldn’t want the coffee to get in the ceiling fans.” Stumbling around the living room, he fell over the coffee table and wound up at Celestia’s feet.
“Hey Princess, you got a rainbow mane in your crown, or is that a bird? No, it’s stars, a lot of pretty stars.” Then he passed out.