Act Two Chapter Three - Arrival
“I thought Magus Clover said this was only a week long trip,” Celestia complained for the upteenth time.
“Again, Tia, it took her a week. She didn’t have a mile long caravan and a couple thousand ponies to worry about,” Luna tried to explain, also for the upteenth time. “She told us it would take longer with everypony coming.”
“Yeah, but nopony said it was going to take ten times as long...”
“It’s only been a month and a half Tia...” Luna responded, half heartedly.
“Only a month and a half? Only?” Celestia responded, frustrated, “Do you know how long a month and as half is?”
“About six weeks.”
Tourmaline ignored the sisters’ banter. It had been funny when they began the trip but that was before over a thousand miles had passed under her hooves. At least it had warmed as they traveled south. Two weeks had passed since the last time it snowed and even longer since the Arcanum ponies had to keep up their force fields, much to Tourmaline’s delight. It truly seemed they had left behind the unnatural winter that had befallen their homeland. Aside from the occasional windy howl in the distance at night, nopony had found any sign of wendigo.
High Horse plodded along beside Tourmaline silently. Though he had long ago given up trying to keep his beige coat pristinely clean and his hooves as delicately polished as he had at the palace he still managed to avoid a single strand of his mane falling out of place. ‘A duke must at least maintain some standard of presentability,’ he had joked.
Tourmaline warmed at the memory. She and High Horse had spent less and less time talking as the trip wore on. Not that they had run out of things to say or that the stresses of the trail had strained their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact, the more time they spent with one another the less they found words to be necessary to understand each other. She and her companion looked up at each other and smiled.
Kind of like that, Tourmaline thought, a moment before walking face first into the stopped carriage in front of her.
“Ouch!” she cried as she rubbed her bruised nose. “What gives?!”
High Horse put a hoof on her side, “Tourmaline... listen.” From far ahead, the wind carried the sound of a horn sounding in a staccato rhythm.
Tourmaline turned her ears to the sound and for a moment just listened, unable to remember which signal that was. Then it dawned on her, “Oh my gosh, we’re here,” she whispered to nopony in particular, hardly able to believe it herself. “We’re here!! We’re here!!!”
All around her, ponies began to cheer. Celestia and Luna ran off to wake their parents who were sleeping in the carriage. From the first cart to the last carriage, every pony of every type felt themselves carried away with emotion. As the noise and cries of happiness swelled, Tourmaline and High horse quietly held each other as their tears of relief soaked into each other’s coats.
Just after the sun had been set and the moon raised in her place, the ponies made camp. Soon after the campfires were set the leaders of the three clans, their advisors, several nobles, and a few other important members of the three clans, including High Horse, met for the first time since the trip began. As Clover’s personal pupil, although she was surprised to learn that the Magus thought of her as such, Tourmaline was also invited.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Commander Hurricane said, standing beside their private fire and holding aloft a cup of cider, “to our new alliance!”
Chancellor Puddinghead agreed and held up her own cup, “And to our new home!”
“And to new beginnings,” Princess Platinum said, holding her flute of sparkling cider.
“To friendship,” Clover offered and was greeted by assent from Smart Cookie and Private Pansy.
A few others offered toasts of their own before Tourmaline found everypony staring at her with expectation.
“Oh, to, uh, second chances,” Tourmaline managed to say, looking nervously to High Horse beside her, who smiled proudly. Clover and the others nodded before finally raising their cups, and flute, and drinking in agreement. After everypony else returned to their seats, Clover remained standing.
“We have many things to discuss in the next few days, plans for construction, farming or in the meantime foraging,” she said. “I think, though, the first thing that must be decided is a system of governance. We all agree that the time of the clans is at an end.” The three leaders and their assistants agreed, although the others were less enthusiastic. “So, I propose a Counsel be formed consisting of the Commander, the Chancellor, and the Princess to jointly guide and rule over our new home. A throne of three crowns, if you will.”
“What about you?” Puddinghead asked.
“About me?” Clover said, surprised.
“My dear Magus,” Platinum began, “If not for you, Smart Cookie, and Private Pansy all of us would be frozen solid in that cave right now. The three of you deserve a seat on that counsel as much as we do.”
“You want me to be a ruler?” Private Pansy whimpered, “oh.. um.. oh my.”
“You deserve it!” Hurricane slapped the mare on her back. “You reminded me that the earth ponies and unicorns are our comrades too. And Commander Hurricane never lets down a comrade!”
“I don’t know ‘bout this,” Smart Cookie admitted, “I ain’t no ruler.”
“Oh come on! You’re perfect!” said Puddinghead enthusiastically, “Trust me, nopony thinks inside a chimney like Smart Cookie!” Hurricane, Platinum, Pansy, and Clover stared in confusion. “So whaddya say?”
“Well,” Smart Cookie answered, rubbing her chin, “If you really want us to... what do you think Clover?”
Clover closed her eyes, considering. “If this is what everypony wants, then I agree. The Counsel of Six it will be.”
“So what will our first official act be?” Puddinghead asked. “Should we throw a party to mark the occasion? How about a celebration? Oh! I know! A holiday!”
“Maybe we should show these good folks what it was that brought us together in the first place,” Smart Cookie gestured to the Counsel’s guests around the fire.
Clover agreed, “Perhaps it will help put some of their concerns to rest.”
Tourmaline, High Horse, and the other guests followed the six members of the new counsel as they walked a short distance away from the camp. Ahead was a small stony hill with a cave overlooking a valley. Clover and the others lead the way, winding a path around the stones and through the entrance of the cave. The ponies entered and every eye shone wide with awe.
Floating high in the cave was a magnificent pink heart shaped flame. Its light cast dancing patterns across the walls of the cave and the faces of the enrapt pony onlookers. The heat of the flame poured out over the ponies and seemed to warm their very hearts with its glow.
Tourmaline stood, hoof in hoof, with High Horse, “It’s wonderful.”
Puddinghead stroked an invisible beard as she spoke, “Hm... it looks smaller than the last time. Does it look smaller to you?”
Clover nodded, “It’s fading.”
“Can’t you use your magic to regrow it or something?” Smart Cookie asked.
Clover shook her head, “I still don’t know what happened in the first place. I’ve studied magic my whole life and I’ve never read anything about a manifestation of harmony forming spontaneously like this. I don’t know if anypony has.”
“So what should we do?” Platinum asked.
“It would be nice if everypony had a chance to see it before its gone,” Pansy offered. “Um... if you think they want to.”
“You’re right,” Clover agreed. “Everypony deserves a chance to see what harmony has to offer for themselves.”
“I’ll begin organizing tour groups immediately!” Hurricane saluted and turned to dart out of the cave.
“Hold on there, Hurricane,” said Smart Cookie. “We got a lot of work to get done. Fields that need plowin, homes that need building. If’n we start pulling folk away we’re not gonna be done before supplies start running out.”
“Could we bring the heart to them?” Platinum asked.
Clover shook her head, “I don’t think so. The Fire manifested here. Even if I could move it, it would probably go out.”
“So what can we do?” Puddinghead asked.
“We could get rid of the cave,” Tourmaline thought aloud.
“Get rid of the cave?” Clover repeated.
Tourmaline walked over to the cave wall and placed a hoof against it. “This is travertine limestone. Light, easy to work, although too porous for sculpture it’s perfect for construction,” she explained. “If you give me Luna and Celestia and a few good workers we can clear away the hill and and cut down the stone. I’ll bet I can get it done in a week. That way the Fire can shine out in the open for everypony to see and we’ll have plenty of quarried stone for the construction of our new homes.”
“But what of the Fire?” Platinum asked, “Surely you don’t mean to simply leave it exposed on some strip mined cliffside.”
Tourmaline walked to the cave entrance and looked out over the vista of the valley, thinking it over. “Not at all. Once this hill is gone and the area flattened, this would be the perfect site for a new palace.”
The council looked to each other and discussed it.
“We agree to your proposal, Tourmaline,” Clover said. “Consider yourself lead architect.”
“Architect? I don’t know, Clover. I’m just a sculptor. I’d be happy to decorate the Palace once it’s completed but I don’t know much about construction.”
“We’ll find somepony to handle the technical details,” Clover explained. “This Palace is the cornerstone of a new civilization here. We need somepony who has an honest appreciation of the historical significance of what we are doing and I can think of nopony better than you.”
Tourmaline felt High Horse take his place beside her. “You can do this,” he comforted.
She took a deep breath and nodded, “I accept.”
“Then it’s settled,” Clover held out her hoof to Tourmaline, who nervously took it. “I know you’ll make us proud. Don’t think this means I’m giving you a break from your studies though.”
Tourmaline smiled despite herself. Even as they crossed the mountains and dragged heavy carts across stony fields Clover had insisted Tourmaline maintain a strict regiment of study.
“I suspect you’ll double my course load, at least,” she joked. Clover just smiled and answered with a noncommittal shrug.
Tourmaline took one more look up at the flickering Fire of Friendship before following everypony back out into the night. They threaded their way down the slope and returned to the campsite where they found a party in full swing. Somepony had unpacked their instruments and put together a hodgepodge band of classical and folk instruments.
High Horse took one look at the ponies dancing between the carriages and smiled as bright as the moon overhead. He grabbed Tourmaline by the hoof and, ignoring her protests that she doesn’t dance, pulled her into the fray.
Tourmaline let herself go and joined in the dance. She stepped and tapped her hooves to the sounds of harp and clavichord alongside banjo and hurdy gurdy as she swung from partner to partner around the campfire. Eventually the pattern would always return her to High Horse. Whenever it did, the couple always tried to hold onto each other a bit longer before crowd pulled them apart again and sent them dancing through the crowd once more, laughing as they went.
Everywhere she looked Tourmaline saw happy faces. Pegasi and unicorns traded jousting tips. Earth ponies pressed simple but hearty treats into the hooves of ponies who would formerly have never considered tainting themselves with base carnival fair. Tourmaline even spied Finish Line on one knee heartfeltly apologizing to Celestia and Luna for everything he had done.
During that first night in their new home, as music played and ponies danced in the moonlight, everypony was family. For the first time in a hundred generations the ponies were one people again and a short while away, though unseen, the Fire of Friendship blazed brighter than it had the first day it appeared.
It was late enough in the night to be called morning,when the party finally slowed down. One by one ponies began to slip away to their carriages to sleep away the few short hours until dawn.
“Come on young lady, it’s time for bed,” Lily said to Celestia.
“But it’s a party and I’m not tired,” she argued, despite the fact that she could barely keep her hooves under her. “See look I’m still dancing.” Celestia tapped her front hooves while her rump was firmly planted on the ground.
Lily laughed tiredly and scooped up the exhausted, and cookie filled, filly and carried her off to join her sister in High Horse’s carriage. Other ponies gathered up family members or friends, old and just made, and helped them off to bed. Tourmaline and High Horse found a seat close to the fire and relaxed in it warmth.
“Not much sense in going to bed at this point,” Tourmaline said.
“I fear you might be right,” High Horse answered, rubbing his eyes. “Though it would seem that sleep itself is hardly optional. If I stay still a moment longer I daresay I’ll be fast asleep right here on this log.”
“The Archduke of House Braccae asleep on a log beside some commonpony, can you imagine the scandle.”
High Horse managed a smile beneath his half lidded eyes, “If it were anypony else, it would be quite the uproar at court. Unfortunately, I believe my fellow court members have come to expect unconventional behavior from me. So long as I am not found sleeping in a cask of jelly i doubt anypony will bat an eye.” Tourmaline smiled at the image. “Besides you’re off on two counts.”
“How so?”
“First of all... my uncle told me this morning that he officially retired.” He poked her in the shoulder in mock indignation, “So that’s the Prince of House Braccae that fall asleep on a log. Thank you very much.
“Secondly, and most importantly,” he placed a hoof on Tourmaline’s cheek. “You are anything but common.”
He smiled dreamily and leaned in toward her. Tourmaline felt butterflies rise up in her stomach. She closed her eyes as he closed the distance between them. Nervous beyond imagining, she felt her heart began to flutter in her chest and just as she was about to burst she felt... his head plopping down unceremoniously on her shoulder, fast asleep.
It took Tourmaline a moment to realized what just happened. She giggled as she lifted his head off of her, “Some dashing prince you are. Falling asleep right as you’re suppose to be sweeping me off my hooves,” she gently picked him up in her magic and started walking back to the carriage, “and now I have to tuck you into bed, again.”
She placed him softly on the padded seat of the carriage, taking care not to disturb the jumble of limbs, hooves, and covers that was Celestia, Luna, Lily, and Silver. Tourmaline pulled a light blanket over High Horse’s sleeping form and wished him a whispered goodnight. Clicking the carriage door closed she returned to the campfire. It was only an hour till dawn if she slept now there would be no waking up. Finding a warm log by the fire and something to nibble on, Tourmaline relaxed at stared up at the night sky to wait until dawn.
“It never grows less beautiful does it?”
Tourmaline looked over her shoulder to see Clover standing behind her, eyes gazing upward. “No, I guess it never does, “ she answered.
“It‘s nights like this I wish I could have seen it back in ancient times,” Clover responded as she stared upwards at the seemingly endless sea of stars. “Can you even imagine how it looked?”
Tourmaline tried, but it was hard to picture. The stories told of a sky so rich with stars that the sky looked like churned seafoam and flowed in great currents across the sky. Today the stars seemed as eternal candles, silent and perfectly still against the velvety blackness with all that remains of the rivers of stars appearing as the milky way stretching dimly from horizon to horizon.
“It’s almost a shame to raise the sun,” Tourmaline thought aloud.
“Almost,” Clover agreed, taking a seat beside her. “Tourmaline, do you remember my lesson about the stars? How they affect gem formation?”
“Of course, Magus,” Tourmaline answered. “You said that when the stars fall some of their energy is absorbed by the minerals in the ground. Just like at a rock farm, but much faster.”
“Much faster,” Clover agreed. “Have you seen this?”
Clover levitated away a patch of earth, leaving a wide hole, a couple of hooves deep. The ground was littered in gems of every color. They caught the light of the fire and sent a rainbow of lights dancing around the trees and carriages.
“It’s beautiful,” Tourmaline said in awe. “I’ve never seen so many gems. Especially so large.”
“You’re right, it is beautiful,” Clover said sadly. “But do you know what it means?”
Tourmaline shook her head and admitted she didn’t.
“It means, this place was once home to our ancestors,” Clover explained. “This place was once a battleground.”
Tourmaline realized what Clover was saying and looked out on the landscape with fresh eyes. For a moment, the valley became an ancient scar left carved in the land. The single tall mountain in the distance became a pile of rubble from a cataclysmic upheaval. The gems in the grounds seemed to reflect the pain and loss of those who had come long before. Worst of all, the very stars seemed like silent witnesses to the end of a world, victims and sole survivors of a terrible conflict they hadn’t been a part of but couldn’t avoid.
“This land has known sadness,” Tourmaline said.
Clover nodded. “Much,” she agreed, “I can still sense something here. Some... disharmony we inflicted on the land. It’s almost...” she shook her head, “ I don’t know.”
The Magus placed a hoof on Tourmaline’s shoulder. “This Kingdom we’re founding here, it’s more than just a new start for ponykind. It’s a chance to undo some of the damage we did long ago.”
Tourmaline gave her teacher a curious look, “We?”
Clover laughed, “Our forebears. I’m not quite that old, Tourmaline.” She rose her her hooves, a little shakily. “Not that I’m not old, mind you.” She sighed, “I’ve lived a long life, longer than anypony alive today. I’ve seen many things, some haunt me even still, some that still bring tears of joy to my eyes... even a century later.” Tourmaline still had a hard time accepting that Clover what quite that old.
“But this,” Clover continued, “this migration, this party, nothing has ever given me greater hope for the future.” She looked up at the sky again, “Ready to set the moon?” she asked.
Tourmaline nodded and waited by the campfire while Clover woke Aster Skies and Noblesse Oblige. Again the familiar music played through Tourmaline’s heart as she stood between Noblesse and Clover as the moon answered their song and began to set. Then she stepped aside and was shocked and amazed as Clover again raised her horn to the sky and side by side with Aster, raised the sun.
“You... You can do both?!” Tourmaline gasped.
“Perhaps I’ll teach you how someday.” Clover smiled. “It’s amazing what you can learn after more than two hundred and forty years of study.”
“Two hundred and forty...” Tourmaline mouthed.
Clover chucked. “I learned a great many things from my old teacher, Star Swirl the Bearded. Age spells are just a small part of his knowledge I hope to pass on to you.”
“Me?” Tourmaline asked in surprise. “Why me?”
“Why not?” Clover said, answering her question with another. “I know you’re not the most magically inclined unicorn, despite your impressive levitation abilities. You also lack much of any formal education in magic. You’re short tempered... A bit cocky...”
“Hey!” Tourmaline protested.
“You also have a kind heart,” Clover said with a smile, “And you profess a deep understanding of history and a inborn appreciation for harmony. In short, you are very much as Starswirl once described me.”
Tourmaline felt the heat rise in her cheeks at the praise.
“You also honestly appreciate praise, even though you don’t seek it.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Tourmaline after shaking her head in hopes of pushing past her embarrassed fluster, “if Starswirl the Bearded trained you, who trained him?”
Clover shrugged, “I don’t know, he never spoke of a teacher. Maybe he didn’t remember anymore.”
“Didn’t know?”
“Starswirl was quite old, older than I am now by far.”
“How old was he?” Tourmaline asked in wonder.
Again Clover shrugged, “I wish I knew...he never said.”
“Ah,” Tourmaline said, accepting this.
“There was one thing though...” Clover said thoughtfully, “A song he once sang for me whilst I was recovering from a backfired spell. He said his mother would sing it him when he was ill.”
Clover cleared her throat and let her memories carry her back...
Rest now, precious little star,
adventure, seek no more.
Relax now, precious little star,
and let your dreams soar.
Sleep now, precious little star,
Have no cares until morn.
Be still now, precious little star,
all your worries, forlorn.
Imagine now, precious little star,
peace of a moonlit field.
You’re safe now, precious little star,
my magic be your shield.
Listen now, precious little star,
hear this song that I sing.
I’ve got you now, precious little star,
Cradled gently in my wing.
Tourmaline let her head sway in time with the lullaby, feeling the calming melody flow through her, just as it was meant to. Suddenly she realized.
“Wait...’my wing’, ‘my magic’?”she asked, surprised. “You mean Starswirl the Bearded’s mother was a....no, she couldn’t have been. That’s impossible, isn’t it? Surely he wasn’t that old.”
Clover didn’t answer, only smiled.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Tourmaline was absolutely aghast, “Nopony taught him, did they? He was born to magic, drank it in with his mother’s milk. Because his mother was an...” She paused, still unable to admit it.
“I don’t know,” Clover answered, “but I have scoured books, scrolls, and codexes that go back to the dawn of history. As well as etchings and rune stones that go back farther still. Yet, no matter how far back I go, he was always there. I can’t say for sure, that song is the only real clue I have.
“It’s also possible, of course, that he was quite ancient but that both his name and that lullaby have been passed down from generation to generation. I can’t say for certain. It’s just that everytime he spoke of the beginning times it seemed he was speaking not about history but about his own foulhoo...”
Clover cut off mid syllable drawing in a sharp breath. She nodded toward a hill in the distance.
Peering over a boulder on the top of the hill where three figures, ponies, faces painted with blue markings and wearing garments woven from bird feathers.
“We are not alone.”