//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Of The Last Millennium // by BlndDog //------------------------------// Chapter 1 The town was all but abandoned by 6:40. Most ponies had closed shop early to enjoy the balmy weather, confident that anyone who slept past noon deserved to go half a day without apples or cabbage or a sandwich. Rose had spent the day under her dull red umbrella in the market square with a jug full of lemonade and a box of bite-sized spinach fritters. Lyra had ordered a rather elaborate floral arrangement, saying that she would pick it up at 6:00. That she did, but by then the florist had received five beautiful flowers from several passers-by to be identified and domesticated, and a flora from Twilight to help her in her endeavor. The night orchid she ordered from Canterlot also arrived that day, delivered at around noon by a young pegasus colt who barely managed to carry its massive ceramic pot from train station to flower stand. That transaction went without a hitch, and the colt received a handsome tip for his efforts. Rose wasn’t especially tired from a day of standing around, and the cool breeze that blew through the squat buildings around her was refreshing, so she didn’t mind waiting at her stand for the night to awaken the dozen pale blue buds drooping from the dark green inflorescence. Darkness was tardy, however, and her box of fritters had been empty for a while. It had taken the better half of a day, but she was finally convinced that she could probably wait for the orchid to bloom just as well from the comfort of her dining room table. Rose marked her place in the hard-covered tome, and was packing up her flower stand when the trio staggered through the market square. She had seen them before; had lost two wagons to their shenanigans, in fact, but one good look at them and she was at their side in an instant. The largest of the three— a yellowish earth pony—lost her footing, nearly knocking over the pegasus filly to her right. All three of their manes were matted with dry mud, and their legs were likewise hidden except at their joints. “Water…” the young pegasus moaned, struggling to raise her head. Rose knelt down to her level, brushing a clump of mud from her forehead as she checked her over. There was a wide bruise behind her shoulders and at the base of her neck. The other two had similar injuries. Rose led the group to her stand and bid them stay there. Running back to her house, she filled two large watering buckets from her rain barrel and hooked them up to her carrying pole. By the time she returned to the stand, all three were lying flat on the dirt road. The fillies drank greedily, the pegasus and the unicorn from one bucket while the earth pony had the other all to herself. Flakes of mud fell from the tips of their hooves into the water, and the unicorn stopped a few times to cough. Should I say something? Surely it wasn’t good for them to drink so quickly. The pegasus was the first to slow down. Her muzzle was coloured brown from the now-muddy water, and she gasped deeply. Rose thought that maybe she had been breathing the water too. “What happened to you?” Rose finally asked. “Are you hurt?” “We went off the road on our way back from Zecora’s,” she replied. “Sweetie Belle and I got stuck in quicksand, and we lost our water trying to get out. Apple Bloom had to pull us out, and then we got lost for a while. Do you know if Applejack is around?” “I think she’s at the farm,” Rose replied, feeling relieved as the other two stopped drinking. Apple Bloom was washing off her hooves and forelegs with the rest of her water. A strip of her coat on her left shoulder had been ripped out, and the skin underneath was inflamed, but already she was looking stronger than before. “You girls rest here for a bit, okay?” The florist suggested, seeing the pegasus and unicorn getting up on shaky legs. “It sounds like you’ve had a rough day.” “Sorry Ms Roseluck,” Apple Bloom said. “I’m already late. We’ll just wash up at Sweet Apple Acres. Thanks for the water!” Rose thought about arguing, but already they were disappearing into the blazing red sunset. She smiled to herself, briefly remembering her own childhood, and how the fear of being late for dinner had been such a powerful motivator. They would be okay; the town was small and full of nice ponies. She emptied the murky contents of the buckets onto the dirt road and stacked them with the ones she used to keep her flowers fresh. Checking all the hatches and hitching the cart, Rose was about to leave when a tall stallion suddenly materialized in front of her. She reared up in surprise, and the wagon began rolling backwards. The stranger pulled her down rather roughly, saving her spine but leaving the mare a bit dazed. She opened her mouth to yell something unsavoury but left it hanging instead, her anger replaced with confusion and concern. Now that she had a better look at him, she recognized the golden helmet and chest plate of the Royal Guards gleaming against his dark grey coat. He was an earth pony of a rather slender build, with unkind, pursed lips that did not match his youthful face. “Madam,” he said with great effort to keep his teeth hidden. “I’ve been sent from Canterlot in search of a runaway pegasus colt. Eight years old, very large wings, green eyes, palomino coat, long fetlocks. He got on a train heading in this direction two days ago. Have you seen him at all?” Rose felt her heart skip a beat. The night orchid. Ordered from a nursery in Canterlot. Delivered by a white pegasus colt. “I think he was here this morning,” she said blankly. A big gold-shoed hoof came to rest on her shoulder. It should have been comforting, but she shied away from the hot metal, causing her cart to jerk backwards again. “I’m sorry. I… He said he was just delivering my order. I’m so sorry.” “Are you sure?” The guard asked, hastily looking over his shoulders towards the last rays of sunlight. “Did he tell you his name?” “No,” Rose replied. “I thought he was just a delivery boy. I gave him the bits for this flower, and I thought he was heading for the train station to get home. I’m so sorry…” She fell silent under the stallion’s intense gaze. Was he going to arrest her? It took her a while to realize that he wasn’t staring at her at all. His dark grey eyes were focused on something behind her. Does he want the night orchid? But I already paid for it! “You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he said at last. The relief in his eyes and voice teased at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you for your help, ma’am.” With that, he too headed for the sunset, now only a rosy semicircle. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Rose followed him, heading for home. She wished she had stopped the colt that morning. But how was she to know? He said that he was working in his mother’s nursery. That wasn’t at all implausible. Maybe it was just a coincidence? Sure, his wings looked a little bit too big for a pony that size, but she didn’t see them extended. Maybe he did head home, and all was okay. Leaving the cart in the yard, Rose carried the orchid inside. The black ceramic pot was a work of art in its own right, but she was mesmerized by the silvery glow that shone from the drooping buds as she stepped across the threshold into the dark lobby. The circular leaves seemed to become plumper and greener, and the youngest leaflet glowed just like the flower buds. Her anxiety was instantly lifted. Rose brought the flower into her kitchen, where the last light of day still licked at a corner cabinet. She placed the pot gently on the extra-broad windowsill and stood back with her tail wagging like a dog’s. I haven’t been this excited since… since I got my cutie mark! At first there was darkness. The stalk swayed in an invisible wind as the reluctant summer sun relinquished its hold on the world. Its ghostly glow faded slightly, or was it just her imagination? The white mare held her breath. With a flash the flowers burst open, starting from the bottom of the stalk and quickly going to the very tip. Silver moonlight filled the kitchen, yet it was never uncomfortably bright. Each blossom was about the size of her hoof, white and perfectly circular, its one petal ever-so-slightly cupped backwards. Rose was beaming ear to ear as she beheld the magical flower. She stood there, admiring the new gem of her collection for a good ten minutes before turning on the lights and preparing her dinner for one. # “Oh Scootaloo, what will I do with you.” “Dad, it was an accident!” The orange filly blushed as she took another mouthful of reheated buttered beans. The unpainted kitchen table was big enough to seat four and more than big enough for a family of two. Scootaloo sat on top of three cushions with a towel draped across her back like a cape. Her mane was still wet from the bath at Sweet Apple Acres, and despite the heat of the day she was feeling a little chilly. A burly orange stallion with an almost shaved mane sat across from her. He didn’t seem angry, but throughout her meal Scootaloo couldn’t help but glance up nervously from time to time. “I know, sweetie,” the stallion smiled. “I’m glad you got back safe. Good thinking, using vines to make a harness. It was the right thing to do. If Apple Bloom left you two there, she might have gotten lost herself, or she might not be able to find you two again. I am disappointed that you went that deep into the Everfree Forest, however. You all know it’s dangerous. What were you thinking, going off Zecora’s trails?” Scootaloo blushed even darker, and could not bring herself to speak for a while. “Cutie Mark Crusaders Trail Blazers?” The Stallion sighed and got up from his cushion. Scootaloo flinched as he extended his wings, but instead of whipping her foreleg he draped one over her shoulder and pulled her closer. The warmth that surrounded her took away some of the uneasiness. She raised her head to meet her father’s gaze, ignoring the cramp in her neck. “Sweetie,” he said. She could feel his deep voice reverberating through his chest before it reached the open air. “I worry about you sometimes. It’s all fine and good to have adventures with your friends, but please don’t just go off doing the first thing that comes to mind and then try to tell everyone that it was for a cutie mark. You have to be more responsible, okay? Today could have gone so much worse, and you know it. Before you do anything, you really have to stop and think it through. I know you can do that. Do you understand what I’m saying?” “Yes dad,” Scootaloo sighed, averting her gaze. “Good.” He pulled her closer and ruffled her mane playfully. “I know you’re tired, so you can go to bed after dinner. Starting tomorrow, though, you are doing dishes. Breakfast, lunch and dinner; every day for two weeks. Got that?” “Yes dad,” she replied unenthusiastically. After eating half a head of lettuce and finishing her orange juice, Scootaloo ascended the stairs listlessly, ready to collapse on her bed. Her room was stuffy from the windows being closed all day, and her hooves were still shaky from her trudge through the woods. After a few tries, she managed to undo the latches and throw open the wooden panes, letting in the cool night air. Despite her weariness, she stood there for a moment admiring the starry sky and the half moon. The night was as cloudless as the day, and once in a while her heart rate swelled at the sudden movement of a shooting star. Lowering her gaze, she noticed a pair of armoured ponies in the street below. They certainly looked like typical Royal Guards, but that was the only typical part of this scene. The only times Scootaloo had ever seen Royal Guards in Ponyville was during Princess Celestia’s visits. She was sure that the Princess wasn’t around, seeing as there were no banners or parades or one of Pinkie Pie’s parties in the town square. As the filly watched with eyes narrowed, one of their saddles seemed to twitch of its own accord. They were hiding their wings. On any other day, Scootaloo would have puzzled over this for quite some time. Heck, she wanted to follow them then and there, but her aching legs and sore back won that argument pretty quickly. Hopping into the air, she dropped onto the soft mattress and crawled under the warm covers. Her mane was still a little damp, but she was too exhausted to care. Once closed, her eyelids were practically glued shut. Even her tiny wings fell loose as sleep overtook her. Five minutes later, something darted in through the window; a pale body stood illuminated for a moment in the pool of moonlight on the floor before disappearing into the shadowy corners of the bedroom. # He was tired and a bit hungry despite his recent dinner of creek water and dumpster muffins (very good muffins by any standard). Standing in the corner furthest from the open window, he felt very strange. He shouldn’t be in this town, let alone this room. But there would be no escaping until daybreak, and he had expected something like this, so maybe he wasn’t doing too badly after all. Staying low to the wooden floor he approached the bed, gently planting each foot before advancing another. His trailing fetlocks muffled his steps, and he extended his wings slowly. Two rows of black down feathers on their undersides bled into the shadows, and though his coat was pale and the room not so dark any casual observer would not have noticed anything amiss in that little bedroom. Footsteps ascended the stairs. Frantically he scanned the Spartan room as panic took over. The closet door was closed, and there was no way to open it quietly. The stallion was going to check on his daughter, of that he was sure, and he could not fight him. He couldn’t face the guards outside either. The hooves stopped just outside the door. Folding his wings silently, he dove under the bed, displacing a family of mice but making no sound himself. The door swung open with a drawn-out creak. From under the bed, he saw a large orange hoof and a soft yellow glow coming from the hallway. Don’t come in. Don’t come in. The stallion lingered for a few seconds. Then he stepped out, letting the door latch spring to with a click that nearly drew a yelp from the pony under the bed. He stayed in his hiding spot until all the potentially-comfortable poses were tried. Convinced that the stallion would not return, he worked his way awkwardly out onto the open floor to face the sleeping filly. Extending his wings once again, he was about to rear up when he noticed the vase and bits sitting on the bedside table. For crying out loud… Carefully stepping around the bed, he picked up the vase first and set it underneath the window. Then he scooped the bits onto one hoof and transferred them to the floor as well with the tiniest jingle. He gripped the sides of the table, ready to move it, and felt a single drawer slide a centimetre out the front. REALLY? But he knew what had to be done. He steadied himself with a deep breath, imagining all the horrible frilly things that surely lurked in every girl’s room… A thick brown photo album and a black-covered journal took up much of the space within. In front of these was a collection of pins. He saw the Wonderbolts insignia a few times as he picked these up, as well as a disc of inscribed diamond from the Crystal Empire. This he was tempted to take for himself, but ultimately he had no need for such things. The album was surprisingly heavy, but he managed to move it and the journal in a singled trip without making a noise. Finally, he could deal with the table itself. Tipping it onto one corner, he “walked” it a few inches from the bed, until it was out of reach for the sleeping filly. Repositioning himself at the end of the bed, spreading his wings and propping himself up on the footboard, he readied his legs and pounced.