//------------------------------// // The fears of night and day // Story: Short stories about ponies and whatnot // by shutaro //------------------------------// Clover looked up from his scrolls when he heard the door open and close. Who could that be? Not many ponies ventured this deep into the royal library, he mused, and mentally corrected himself: former royal library. The immense collection of books was one of the few things they had brought from the king’s castle in the old country, but Platinum had refused to donate them to the public library. Instead she had founded a new one in memory of her father who was one of the last ponies to succumb to the windigo’s ice before they had left for Equestria. She was no longer a princess, but her pride had only grown since they had founded their new home. The slow clip-clop of hooves on stone approached, and Clover already knew who was visiting him, even though it would take a few more moments until he could see his guest. He stood up from his desk and turned to the corridor that connected his small study to the huge halls of the main library. “Pantsy, my friend!” he greeted the pegasus pony that had just turned around one of the shelves. The two smiled at each other and shared a hoof-bump. This earthpony greeting had yet to replace the more traditional greetings of touching-of-horns among unicorns and the winghugs shared among pegasus ponies, but it was becoming more common with every passing day. As usual Pantsy talked quite silently, but in this place it was appropriate for once. “Clover, it’s good to see you. I just wish I had better news for you.” He pulled a sealed scroll from his bags. “They have been seen again.” Both looked up to the flag they had raised the morning after they had realized the power of the fire of friendship. It was one of the better kept secrets that the flag in the council’s hall was just a replica. All six of them had agreed that this was their flag: sewn out of one of Platinum’s dresses, with a needle made from a piece of Hurricane’s armor, embroidered with hair from their very own manes and raised on a flagpole Puddinghead and Smart Cookie had made from a tree they had grown just for this. And inspired by one of the oldest legends of ponykind: the legend of the ancient sisters. And now this legend was becoming real for them. Clover broke the scroll’s seal and read the report. A patrol claimed to have spotted a pair of winged unicorns. Or horned pegasus ponies, depending on who you asked. One white and one black, they were both able to escape the fasted pegasus and could hide their magical signatures from the most skilled casters. At least that’s what the legends had claimed for centuries, if not millennia. ”I don’t know Pansy, I really don’t know. We talked about this last time.” Clover walked to his desk and held up a number of notebooks. “Smart Cookie is still trying to collect some more stories from the zebras and buffalos, but the legends are as old as ponykind itself. They have always been there. The sisters can be found in the oldest cave-paintings, they predate history itself.” His magic projected a crude cave-painting of a mixed herd of ponies. The stick figures in brown followed two huge ponies, one white with a sun-cutiemark, one black with a moon-cutiemark. Pansy sighed deeply. ”I fear what we have brought upon ourselves by putting them on Equestria’s flag. We wanted a symbol of unity, but you know how brittle the union is still. I fear for our dream should they turn out to be real. Hurricane, Platinum and Puddinghead are capable leaders, but we don’t get any younger and the last ten years were hard work for all of us. Not just raising Equestria from the ground, but keeping it in the air against those stupid separatists. I still don’t get how anypony can forget the windigos that fast. And what if those sisters want actual power?” Pansy shook his head again. “Don’t despair,” Clover tried to resolve his friend’s doubts. “It’s only been ten years against centuries of prejudice and mistrust. Give Equestria a bit more time, my friend. And have a bit more hope, too. Every story about the sisters tells of their wisdom and gentleness. Should they turn out to be actual ponies after all, they’ll have thousands and thousands of years of experience. The tribes had rulers who couldn’t walk in a straight line after marrying their cousins for generations, but we still prevailed. We could a lot worse than a pair of immortal, super-powerful pegacorns.” Pansy smiled at him and for a moment Clover thought he saw the telltale shimmer of magic around his friend’s form. But more than anything he felt his eyelids become heavy, the long hours of work were catching up with him, it seemed. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with a hoof. He wanted to apologize for this but he was already half asleep. The last thing Clover heard was an unfamiliar voice. “Rest well, my little pony. You earned it.” *** Clover startled from his sleep, somepony was shaking him by the withers. A young stallion was standing next to him. “Sorry for waking you, sir. You are Clover the Clever, correct, sir? I have an urgent scroll for you.” Clover recognized the striped cap of the “Swift Wings”, the fastest delivery service money could buy. “Yes, that’s me.” He stretched his legs. “Uhhh, I must have fallen asleep.” He took the scroll the delivery colt pulled from his holster in his magic and gave a generous tip. Waking a sleeping customer and waiting for him was not a common trait among the speedsters. He looked at the scroll and had to fight the strangest feeling of déjà vu. He broke the seal and read it, the feeling growing stronger by the second. “Oh dear,” he said aloud, talking to himself against his usual habits. “I could swear I have read this very letter before. But for the life of me, I can’t remember where or when.” *** Any real “Swift Wing” would have become green with envy at seeing this pony shoot over the night sky. But despite the obvious power this pegasus stallion possessed, not a single leaf or blade of grass was rustled out of place as he landed in a small, hidden clearing. The illusion faded and from the disguise stepped the very ideal of beauty, a white mare with both a horn and wings. “Dear sister, it is as we feared. The prophecies are coming true,” she addressed the mare waiting for. “We have to return to our ponies. Times of great turmoil lie ahead and I think they are ready.”