//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: A Simple Reflection // by FanNotANerd //------------------------------// An unseasonably cold wind blew through Canterlot, and the rumble of distant thunder rippled through the air. Fairweather lifted his head, looking out at the dark clouds massing over the horizon. The storm seemed to have come out of nowhere, blooming out of a clear sky. He shook his head, returning his attention to the small hole he was digging with a trowel. Nearby, an aged earth pony watering some plants glanced at him and gave him a friendly nod. Fairweather nodded back, carefully scraping a small amount of earth off the sides of the even, perfectly circular hole in the soft loam. To his side sat a potted orchid, purchased minutes before from a street vendor. Dozens of others like it bloomed around him, in hues of red, blue and purple, as they should be. He’d been carefully planting them here for nearly twenty years, every time he’d had to leave Canterlot on a mission or for some other purpose. The earth pony moved to another patch of plants, whistling merrily. He didn’t even know Fairweather’s name, but he knew him well enough to know he wanted to be left alone while planting one of his orchids. With slow, precise motions, Fairweather lifted the orchid out of the pot and deposited it in the hole he’d dug. As usual, it was a perfect fit. He’d had a fair amount of practice getting the holes just right. That done, he let out a heavy sigh and looked at the plain headstone in the middle of his cluster of orchids. His hooves suddenly ached for a piece of soapstone and a file, but he wrestled the urge down. I know it’s been a while, he thought, addressing the headstone. I didn’t forget. I just haven’t been here. His armour and kit lay in a neat bundle a few strides behind him. The chestpiece almost didn’t fit him any more, but he’d been able to punch a new hole into the canvas straps to loosen it some. I’m getting soft in my old age, he thought, chuckling to himself. His ears perked up at hoofsteps somewhere behind him. Fairweather looked behind him, blinking in surprise when he saw Shining Armour picking his way between the headstones. When the he saw him, the Captain ducked his head, ears flattening. “We’re due at the courtyard in a few minutes,” he said. “But if this is a bad time...” Fairweather glanced back at the headstone. “No, lad,” he sighed. Shining shifted uncomfortably. “Are you sure? Because I can come back later, and—” “Ah don’ recall stuttering,” Fairweather snapped. “This be as good a time as any.” He looked back at the headstone. “Ah was just saying goodbye. Just in case Ah... just in case.” It was a simple thing, really, saying goodbye. Why had he never had a chance when she was alive? “If you need more time, just say it,” Shining said. “I know you miss her.” “Ah had my time with her,” Fairweather snapped. “And now it’s over. No getting it back, so there’s nothing left to do but move on.” To prove his words, he stood, taking the trowel and the discarded flowerpot under a wing. He slung his kit over his back and strode past his friend, putting the grave behind him. He didn’t have to see the look on Shining’s face to know where his thoughts were. They were back in the Crystal Empire with his wife. Had he said goodbye before he left? “Who did you find t' bring along?” Fairweather asked, breaking the silence that had sprung up between them. “I found a few willing guards, and a decent tracker.” Shining replied, still gazing to the north. “We have our full squad, at least. A medic, too. He gave me something for my head.” Fairweather grunted. “You should ‘ave let me worry about it. Your noggin’s taken enough abuse today.” After a moment, Shining's words registered fully. "Wait, you found a tracker? How in blazes did you manage that?" “It wasn’t as hard as you might think,” Shining replied, rounding the corner and entering the palace’s east courtyard. Inside, eight ponies stood at ease, kits spread around the immediate area. Fairweather stopped dead, staring at the assembled ponies. “You didn’t,” he breathed. One of the ponies, a pegasus mare, looked over at him. She was the only one without armour. “Officer on deck!” she shouted. The other guards glanced over, cutting themselves off midword, and quickly assembled into a line, snapping crisp salutes. Fairweather shot a disbelieving look at Shining, who responded with a slight smile. “Are these...?” “The other guards in my cadet group?” Shining replied. “Yes. You were a sergeant, last they saw you.” Fairweather ran down the line of guards, finally stopping on a massive blue earth pony with more scar tissue on him than skin. “Dear stars, Patchwork. They made you a medic?” The ex-bouncer bared his teeth in a grin with more gaps in it than anything else. “Turns out I’ve a good hoof with needle and thread,” he replied. “Comes from stitching myself up so much.” Fairweather shook his head and continued down the line. The mare that had announced him straightened slightly when he approached, but he continued on without a word. “They’ll do,” he said simply. “I certainly hope so,” Luna said, striding out of the shadows. Shining stiffened and took a step back. Fairweather stifled a chuckle. He couldn’t blame the unicorn. Having a Princess walk out of nowhere right beside you had to be an unsettling experience. Luna surveyed the group. Where they had stood proudly under Fairweather’s examination, under Luna’s they seemed to shrink. “Are these the best you could find?” she asked Shining. “Absolutely not,” he replied. “But I trust them all, and that’s the important thing.” She sniffed and walked past the guards. “I trust that Shining Armour has briefed you. If he has not, simply know that we are pursuing a very valuable and potentially dangerous quarry. Which among you is a tracker?” “That’d be me,” the mare spoke up in a slight, nearly undetectable burr. Luna glanced at her. “Our quarry was last seen plummeting from my sister’s chambers into the Ice River. I trust that you will be able to guide us from there.” The mare grinned. “You’re talking to Trail Blaze here. If it walks, runs or flies, I can track it.” The grin slipped right off her face when Luna turned away without a word. “We have no time to lose,” she said. “Move out.” While the others were shouldering their packs and tightening armour straps, Fairweather strode to Blaze’s side. “What are ye doing here?” he hissed. “Shining gave me the idea that he only took guards.” Blaze bristled. “I happened to be near the palace to hand in some paperwork. Shining recognized me and asked me to come along. Simple as that.” “There’s still the issue of you bein' a civilian,” Fairweather pointed out. “If you get hurt, it’s on me.” “You’re being overprotective again,” Blaze retorted. “I’ve been in plenty of hairy situations in the field. I’m sure I can take care of myself.” “Ah don’t doubt that,” Fairweather replied. “Not one bit.” “Then why are you worried?” Fairweather sighed. “When your mother died, I... I promised no' to let anything happen to you. I cannae keep that promise if—” “If I keep getting myself in trouble,” Blaze finished. “I know.” She flashed him a lopsided grin. “Tell you what. When things get ugly, I’ll go the other way. No heroism from me. Happy?” Shaking his head, Fairweather clapped his daughter on the shoulder. “Ah would be if Ah didnae know you were lying.” He glanced toward the others. “Let’s go. You’ve got a target to track.” And now I have a daughter to worry about. You owe me for this, Shining. ---------- Wet, shivering and exhausted, Rainbow Dash glided toward the weather headquarters in Cloudsdale. Far behind her, the storm over Ponyville seethed darkly, sheet lightning flickering between the clouds. “Stupid Blossomforth,” she muttered under her breath as she landed, wings shaking from overexertion. “Stupid microburst. Stupid storm.” Her mind unwittingly flashed back to the incident that had brought her here in the first place. Giving up on tending the storm, returning to home base... seeing grass flattening in the field below them, calling out a warning an instant too late... Blossomforth was now in the Ponyville hospital with a dislocated shoulder, a broken wing and a concussion. Rainbow had heard of microbursts and what they could do to a pegasus in flight, but this was the first time it had happened on her watch, and it shook her to the core. The weather control station was in chaos when she walked in, dripping water through the cloud floor. Ponies ran and flew around, carrying topographical and atmospheric maps. Voices were raised to be heard over the frantic activity, only adding to the overall volume. “... the hay was in charge of that warm air front? It was supposed to swing to the west, not the north! That’s what caused most of this!” Rainbow winced, avoiding eye contact with the red-faced pegasus stallion stomping by. Thunder Head was one of those bosses that should be avoided whenever something went wrong. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had to fill out an incident report for Blossomforth, she wouldn’t be here at all. There. The filing cabinet with the forms was right in front of her. All she had to do was grab one unnoticed, and— “Rainbow Dash!” Rainbow bit back a groan and turned around, meeting her boss’ blazing eyes. “Yeah?” she replied. Thunder Head jabbed his hoof into the center of her chest. “Your team was in charge of redirecting that air front! What in the name of Cerberus’ balls happened?” “We did redirect it,” Rainbow replied, fighting to stay calm. She’d seen employees get in shouting matches with Thunder Head, and it never ended well. “I really don’t know what happened.” “I can tell you exactly what happened!” Thunder Head snapped. “You went and created one of the worst thunderstorms of the year! That cyclone’s thrown the schedule for the rest of the region off by weeks!” “I didn’t create it,” Rainbow grated, her temper fraying. “The entire system went haywire! The thunderstorm practically created itself.” “Do you think I’m an idiot?” Thunder Head roared, a vein pulsing on his temple. “The only way a storm’s created by accident is by sheer incompetence! Don’t try and pawn your failures off on some freak acci—” With an almost audible crack, Rainbow’s temper snapped like a poplar in a windstorm. “I did nothing wrong!” she yelled back. “That front swung back north all by itself. I’ve spent the last three hours working myself to the bone to try and stop this from getting any worse! It’s only because of me that we’re dealing with a thunderstorm right now instead of a full-on tornado!” Rainbow shut her mouth, aware that the room had fallen silent. All eyes were on her, the pony that had dared to yell back at Thunder Head. Her boss’ face slowly went purple. “That’ll be all,” he said quietly, before turning and walking away. Rainbow watched him go, and then turned to the filing cabinet. Her hooves were shaking so badly that it took her three tries to get it open. The silence continued as she filled out the incident report and tossed it carelessly onto a desk. Someone would find it eventually. Whether or not they’d be able to read what she’d written was an entirely different story, and not her concern anyway. Guess that’s my two weeks notice, she thought offhandedly. Ah, well. I’ve got some savings stored up. Let’s see how they get on without me. In the meantime, I’ve got a job to do. The thunderstorm was only the beginning. She could feel it. When she’d been working with the team to avert the storm, everything had been more difficult. The clouds almost resisted their efforts, and by the end of it, even staying aloft was a challenge. She looked around. The ponies around her all bore the same expression of dull shock. And none of them believed her. She could see it in their eyes. Her words were nothing but the desperate defense of a doomed employee. They don’t believe me. That’s fine. I don’t need their help. Nopony in the room so much as moved until she left the cloud building. ---------- The Ice River always ran fast this time of year. Fed by both glacial meltwater and underground hot springs, the river was always just warm enough to swim in, yet always carried the chill of the mountains, giving it its name. Sediment and minerals from the glaciers high in the mountains surrounding Canterlot gave the river a translucent turquoise hue. It was bordered on on one side by forest, which thinned out to grasses and reeds as it neared the river. Shining stuck a hoof in the river, and snatched it back, hissing. Just warm enough to swim in. As in just warm enough to avoid instant hypothermia. To think that in the autumn, when the river’s flow had abated somewhat, ponies actually went floating down the river for therapeutic purposes. The mineral-rich water was apparently very good for the skin. I’ll take dry skin over freezing water any day, Shining thought, shaking a few drops off his hoof. Farther downriver, Blaze was picking her way through the growth on the river’s banks. Only the movement of the tall grasses and reeds marked her passage. For a moment, Shining wondered if the pegasus mare was actually capable of tracking something over a day gone, but then reminded himself of what she did for a living. Blaze was a field operative for Canterlot’s conservation authority, in charge of tracking and tagging endangered wildlife. Her last project had been collecting observations on the Everfree’s timberwolves. How she'd managed to do so and remain intact was a mystery to him, but she’d done it. To the side, Fairweather watched his daughter work, pointedly not looking at Shining. He was talking quietly with Luna about something, but Shining couldn’t even catch a whisper. Luna must have put up some kind of sound-dampening spell. Blaze suddenly let out a shout. In response, Fairweather’s ears went flat and he took to the air midword, streaking to where the shout had come from. Shining followed an instant later, his heart pounding. Collapses along the bank were common this time of year, and he knew from experience that pegasi weren’t good swimmers. If Blaze had fallen in... He crashed through the bush and skidded to a halt when an upraised hoof almost struck him in the muzzle. “Not another step,” Blaze snapped, peering intently at something on the ground. Shining’s terror vanished, replaced by sheepishness. “I thought you’d...” “So did my dad, apparently,” Blaze replied, glancing up to where Fairweather circled. “Seriously, it’s bad enough with just him looking out for me. And at least he knows to keep to the sky. You’re standing in stinging nettles, by the way.” Shining glanced down. “No I’m not...” As soon as he opened his mouth, his legs started to burn. He carefully moved to the side, although the burning feeling remained. Now that he had a better angle, he could see what had made Blaze shout in what he now realized was triumph. The river bent slightly, creating a small outcropping of sediment. A few reeds beside it were flattened, and hoofprints were sunk into the soft earth. From any other angle, it was nearly invisible. “This is where he got out of the river,” Blaze explained. “Judging from the depth of the prints, it must be a stallion—either that, or a really fat mare.” She continued on, casting a critical eye over the prints, which grew fainter as they moved farther from the river. “Not much distance between the prints here. He wasn’t moving quickly. I wouldn’t be, either. Almost drowning never put me in much of a running mood.” She walked past Shining as if he wasn’t even there. Overhead, Fairweather made one final circle and returned to where the other guards were waiting. “He laid down here for a little while,” she said, indicating a patch of flattened underbrush under a tree. “Catching his breath. From there...” Blaze bared her teeth in a feral grin. “Oh, it’s like he’s not even trying. This guy doesn’t have a chance.” Shining followed her gaze, frowning. All he saw was leaf litter and an uneven forest floor. “You, uh... found a trail?” “Don’t ask stupid questions,” Blaze replied, walking along the trail it seemed only she could see. “Get the others. I’ll lead the way.” ---------- A knock sounded at the entrance to Luna’s chambers. “Come in,” Celestia said, stifling a yawn. The sun was starting to go down, and without the rush of energy it gave, her bone-numbing exhaustion made itself known with a deafening clamour. A blue unicorn in a tattered lab coat tentatively pushed the door open, shaking his wild mane out of his eyes. “Sorry to disturb you,” he said, “But I’ve found something odd. I need a second opinion.” Celestia nodded. “Go on.” The unicorn, a member of her personal research team whose name she couldn’t recall for the life of her, hesitated. “Well, I decided to go up to your chambers to have a look around. Scan it for magical resonance, and all that.” Stiffening, Celestia gestured for him to continue. Her and Luna had been trying to keep their little experiment quiet, mainly because of the public outcry that was sure to come as a result. They couldn’t understand what drove them. If this pony had figured something out... “What did you find?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice neutral. “That’s exactly it,” he replied. “I didn’t find anything. No residues of any kind.” Celestia frowned. That was unexpected. “What do you mean?” “Just that. I didn’t even feel background resonance. Your entire room was... well, for lack of a better word, it was a void.” “Interesting,” Celestia said carefully. What in the world did that mean? She'd drawn enough power to lay waste for miles! How could there be no resonance whatsoever? “Your Highness, with all due respect...” The unicorn transfixed her with his intense cobalt eyes. “What happened up there?” “I...” What was she supposed to say? “I don’t remember.” The unicorn’s expression softened. “Can’t blame you, I guess. Head injuries have a way of doing that.” “Do you have any idea what it means?” Celestia asked. “Not a clue,” the unicorn replied. “I can’t think of anything that’d do that. It’s like something just... cancelled all the magic out.” Celestia flinched. The unicorn saw the slip and looked back up. “You sure you don’t remember anything?” “If I knew what happened up there,” Celestia said truthfully, “I’d tell you. Now, I must rest.” The unicorn bowed and backed out. “... see what the other guys think,” Celestia heard him mutter on the way out. She sank back on the cushions, trying to recall exactly what had happened. The moment that thing had touched her spell, the whole thing had unraveled. No, it had recoiled. Celestia shivered. For some reason, remembering that afternoon made her feel cold. Not the chill of a cold day; something far deeper than that. The lightless, heatless cold of an utter void. Her heart jumped into her throat. Luna! Her sister was well versed in magical attacks and entrapments. If she located her target and used one of them... She leapt out of bed and staggered to Luna's study, feeling the effects of leaving the sunlight instantly. Pain shot through her side with every step, but she ignored it. Luna had to be warned. She reached Luna's desk and yanked open the first drawer that came within reach, pulling it out completely and spilling parchment all over the floor. She dug through the pile for a blank sheet and, forcing magic through her horn, levitated a quill from the desk's surface. When she finally found a blank sheet, she hunched over it and began scribbling. It took a massive effort of will to make the quill move the way she wanted it to, making each letter a challenge. Finally, it was done. She hastily blew on the ink, counting the seconds as she waited for it to dry. That done, she forced magic through her horn one last time into a teleportation spell. At that moment, the sun sank below the horizon. Every ounce of strength she had left fled from her, and utter exhaustion settled over her like a crushing weight. She felt the magic fade from her grasp, and the desk rose up to meet her. No... she thought, fighting her traitorous body to stay awake. Against her will, her eyes drifted shut. To the south, the storm continued to roil. Its fury was spent, but it seemed that the land was still holding its breath. Watching. Waiting. For this was only the beginning.