//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: Taking Matters Into Your Own Hooves // Story: Legacy of the Sun // by IceColt //------------------------------//         It was late in the evening. The sun was half sunken between the rolling hills of Whitetail Woods, its usually brilliant fire now reduced to a languid ember. Before it, the once vibrant nature had been turned timeless, drenched in an orange twilight. Yet the afterglow’s dominance did not turn the view unpleasant. Instead, it transformed the restless nature into a tranquil refuge from time itself as the woods seemed to hold its breath in awe. Everything was shushed by the tireless service of the sun which did not steer from its duty even in the very last hours of its awake state, instead giving its all to the very last minute to reveal the beauty of nature.         The results of this were particularly fruitful at Sweet Apple Acres. The entire farm was a grand symphony of gold and amber, only stirred softly when a pony in the fields bucked against a tree. This happened seldom however, as the workers in the field could not, and would not, close themselves to the spectacle that nature presented them with, enveloping the fields in an atmosphere of hushed admiration. It could be called irony that Twilight was the only pony on Sweet Apple Acres that did not admire the sun’s beauty. Letting her head hang, the princess’ protégé instead was getting closely acquainted with the trail underneath her hooves as she slogged along it through the farm’s north orchard. She sighed deeply. “C'mon now, sugarcube. No reason to be so depressed.” Twilight looked up. Applejack, who was walking alongside her, was smiling at her encouragingly. Unfortunately, Twilight did not feel like being cheered up. “You mean besides running all over Sweet Apple Acres the entire afternoon with nothing to show for it, effectively not just wasting my time, but yours too? I'd say there's plenty of reason to be depressed.” Applejack clicked her tongue. “Well, bein' grumpy about it isn't gonna solve anythin' either.” Twilight heaved another sigh. “You're right, Applejack, I'm sorry. It's just... this is so frustrating!” With the kick of her hoof, she sent a pebble flying. “Especially now that I dragged you into this.” “Hey now.” Applejack put a hoof against Twilight’s chest and stepped in front of her, wearing a stern expression. “Don'tcha start feelin’ guilty about a choice Ah made. It was mah decision to help ya, and Ah don't regret it.” Applejack's frown unfurled to make way for a smile. “After all, what are friends for?” “I suppose…,” mumbled Twilight, pawing at the ground. “But don't you have your own problems to take care of here?” Applejack's smile wavered a little bit. “Well, yeah, we do have a mite bit of a situation concernin' labor force...” Her smile steadied itself. “But it ain’t anythin’ ya gotta worry about.” “Situation? What do you mean?” asked Twilight as they began walking again. She had only suspected that Applejack would have wanted to supervise the harvest personally, but this sounded a bit more grave than that. Applejack gave another smile, but her eyes did not quite join in with her lips. “It's nothin' to worry about, really. It's just a busy season for the Apple family in Equestria, this time of the year. Lotsa orders comin' in for the festivities an’ all that. Turns out, this year’s especially busy an’ because of that, a lot of our relatives won't be able to come down an’ help us out.” Twilight looked up, towards the treetops. The branches were heavy with apples of all sizes and colors. The fruits looked ripe, juicy, and tempting – but also very unplucked. “So... that means you're understaffed?” “Well, technically not, seein’ how it’s usually just Big Mac, Applebloom, Granny Smith, an’ me. Guess the four of us will just have to work a mite bit harder this year.” Applejack gave a laugh, but it didn’t sound believable to Twilight. Apparently her expression reflected that, because after looking at her, Applejack hastily added: “Really, it’s fine. There’s nothin’ to worry about for ya, Twilight.” “I don’t know, Applejack,” said Twilight cautiously, “it may not be a problem now, but it could turn into one in a few days. Maybe the girls and I could help out…” “Ah appreciate that, Twilight, Ah really do. But there’s no need for that. We got it all covered.” “Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind at all, and the others surely think the same way. We could—” “We'll manage,” Applejack cut her off. Another offer danced on the tip of Twilight’s tongue, but she stayed quiet. At this point, anything she could say would make Applejack turn only even more stubborn. She would have to look into this another time. After she had taken care of her own problems... As if reading her mind, Applejack picked up the initial topic again: “So, what's so special about this list anyway that it has ya rummagin' through the barn an’ the farmhouse all afternoon?” Twilight opened her mouth, but then hesitated. Should she tell the truth? Yet a second later she shook those thoughts. Who could she be completely honest towards if not her friends? “It's actually not that special itself. But Magister Stone Quill wants to see it.” “That surly old codger we picked up from the train station?” The corners of Twilight’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Yes.” “And ya thought it was smarter to search through haystacks for a piece of paper instead of simply redoin’ it, because…?” Twilight shifted uncomfortably. “Well... I didn't want the magister to know that I had lost the list. I was hoping to find the original copy before he noticed.” Applejack raised an eyebrow. “And why in tarnation is that such a big deal for ya?” Twilight’s cheeks flushed slightly. “...because I didn’t want to look incompetent in front of him.” “Incompetent? Twilight, do you have any idea what you’re talkin’ ‘bout? Yer the bearer of the Element of Magic, the personal student of Princess Celestia, and four times savior of Equestria! And now yer organisin’ this whole Summer Sun Celebration almost single-hoofedly! One little mistake like that ain’t hardly a reason to call ya incompetent.” Twilight knew she should feel happy that Applejack defended her so vehemently, and a small part of her actually did. Yet she could only sigh in response. “That’s very kind of you, Applejack, but unfortunately things are not that easy when it comes to Magister Stone Quill. Especially because I am Princess Celestia’s student.” When she looked at Applejack again, the farm pony’s eyebrow had wandered several degrees higher. “Ya’ll have to explain that one to me.” Twilight smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I guess I should reach back a little bit. Do you remember how I told you girls about my entrance exam for Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns?” A small grin flashed over Applejack’s face. “Ah do seem to recall a story like that. Somethin’ about ya blowin’ off the roof by hatchin’ a full-grown dragon?” Twilight couldn’t help but briefly join in on that grin. “Well, yes, there was also that. But I also told you about how Princess Celestia took me on as her personal student once she had seen my, well, hoofwork, right?” Applejack nodded and Twilight continued: “Once I had accepted Princess Celestia’s offer, things happened very fast. My education started the very next day, which was fine with me since I was unable to get even a second of sleep in anticipation of the princess’ lessons.” Twilight let her eyes wander over the orchard’s intertwined tree tops as she recalled her time as a filly. “As it turned out though, Princess Celestia was not my only teacher. It was not due to her lack of desire to teach me, it was just that she simply didn’t have the time for it she needed. She is the ruler of Equestria, she can’t spend the entire day just teaching a filly. Luckily, that’s where the academy could help her out. Although she is not technically the principal, the Academy for Gifted Unicorns is still her school since she founded it. Normal lessons soon proved to be not demanding enough for me though.” “Gee, ain'tcha just the spittin’ image of humility?” “I’m only repeating what Princess Celestia had said,” replied Twilight, a stifled smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “Anyway, after the academy told Princess Celestia that I passed all my exams almost effortlessly, she tried a different method. From then on, I was not visiting the usual lessons anymore. Instead, I was privately tutored by a select few teachers of the academy.” Applejack briefly furrowed her brow and then raised them high up. “Oh, Ah see. And one of those ponies was—” “Magister Stone Quill, yes.” Applejack nodded slowly to herself. “So that’s where ya know him from.” A moment later Applejack furrowed her brow again. “But Ah still don’t understand how ya rummagin’ through Sweet Apple Acres has to do with ya bein’ Celestia’s student.” Twilight smiled and raised her hoof. “Don’t worry, I’m getting to it. “Anyway, as I was saying, I was now taught completely on my own. I still had a different teacher for each topic, but I was the only pupil attending in those classes. Despite those teachers however, Princess Celestia did not neglect her role as my mentor. Whenever she had the time, she would either be present at the lessons or teach me personally. “Because of that, my teachers were always mindful of the fact that I was ultimately the princess’ personally chosen student. That meant that most of them were eager to push me harder than normal students. Usually, my best efforts in fulfilling their instructions was enough, but sometimes it did not… quite suffice.”  Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Ah'm supposin' this Stone Quill fella is that “sometimes” yer talkin’ about?” Twilight nodded. “Magister Stone Quill was always very aware of who I was ultimately learning under. Because of that, he would always strive to… exert my abilities to the fullest.” “Ah’m guessin’ he didn’t put it quite as friendly.” “No,” said Twilight as she let her eyes wander over the trees. “No, he usually didn’t…” --- ”One more time, Miss Sparkle.” Twilight was not sure whether “one more time” was even in her. Her little heart was beating heavily against her chest and her small hooves shook under the weight of her body. She tried to take a deep breath, but the air, stuffy from the dust and heat, only oozed lazily into her mouth. Twilight felt an uncomfortable tickle at the back of her throat, but she gave her best to ignore it. Don’t cough, she reminded herself as she cast a cautious side glance to the numerous bookshelves that lined the chamber’s walls. The mounds of dust atop the tomes seemed to be perfectly tranquil, but Twilight knew from personal experience that even the smallest sudden gust could shroud this entire chamber in a thick, frowsty fog. Guess it’s a good thing that the architect of this room already took their precautions against that then, mocked a tiny voice in Twilight’s thoughts. She turned her head to the windows. Though technically nothing more than well-shaped holes in the walls, their rudimentary nature was compensated through their miniscule size. Barely even a breeze got through them. On the other side, Twilight could see the bright summer day outside. How much she’d love to be out there right now, enjoy the warm sun on her skin, maybe go to Canterlot Lake if Shining had some free time… Twilight shook her head. Focus, don’t get distracted! With a sigh trembling on her lips, Twilight turned away from the windows and focused anew on what stood directly in front of her. It was a lit candle. Twilight leaned closer to it, but then started back when the flame flickered towards her. Come on, don’t be so sensitive. Just because it’s a bit warm… “A bit is good,” murmured Twilight to herself as she brushed her sweaty mane out of her face. Stop talking to yourself. You always do that when you get anxious. Twilight bit her tongue and leaned closer once more. The warmth of the flame was very unwelcome in this suffocating heat, but this time Twilight persevered. As soon as she got close enough - far closer than she honestly wanted to be - she stopped and locked her eyes on the flame. For what felt like an eternity to her, Twilight did not move a muscle, did not bat an eyelid. She only followed the flame. Every single movement, every flicker she observed. Not a single nuance of the flame’s dance escaped Twilight’s attention. Then, suddenly, her eyes narrowed and her small horn lit up in a lavender magical aura. The candle’s flame flickered, as if frightened by this sudden appearance, but the wick proved too strong a chain for any attempts of flight. Softly, ever so carefully, Twilight then began to extend her magic. Cautiously she wrapped the flame in her own magic, at first forming a bubble around it. Yet she soon shrank the bubble, changing its form as she did so. The hard shell began to grow soft, as if melting. Finally, the magical aura reached the flame, touched it and then… seemingly disappeared. Yet Twilight knew better. She felt her magic, still active, wrapped around the flame and following its every movement perfectly. It was almost completely one with the flame. Twilight allowed herself a brief smile of relief. So far, so good. Now for the hard part. Twilight pressed her lips tightly together and furrowed her brow. The magic around her horn began to glow brighter and at the same time, the movements of the flame became more erratic. It jerked from left to right, as if trying to pull away from the wick and the filly’s magical grasp. Twilight’s brow twitched and the aura around her horn shone even brighter, summoning a fine, lavender line around the flame. Instead of following the flame’s movements, however, it pushed against them, as Twilight tried to keep it under control. Yet fire owed no obedience to any master but itself. Thus, the more Twilight pushed the flame back to the candle, the more the flame pushed back, trying to break free. And with each movement, the struggle grew more forceful, sending the lavender-shrouded flame flying in all different directions. Like a whip, the fiery tongue lashed out as far as it could, only to be forced back to its origin by the lavender filly, whose face by now was contorted in exertion. Back and forth jumped the flame, higher and further, pushed and pushed against Twilight’s magic. And then it broke loose. The young filly cried out in surprise back as the flame tore away from her control. Twilight staggered backwards, but stumbled and fell on her haunches. Immediately, her eyes shot open and darted through the room, trying to see the inevitable fiery retaliation in time. Yet no flaming whip rushed through the room and no menacing inferno was conspiring to destroy the haughty filly who had believed that she could tame fire. Instead, the flame rested on top of the candle again, flickering as softly as it had done before. The clearing of a throat tore away Twilight’s attention from the seemingly untouched candle and she looked up. Standing behind the candle with his horn aglow, was Stone Quill. As Twilight looked up, the aura around his horn dissolved and out of the corner of her eyes, Twilight saw something around the flame disappear. The old stallion didn’t say anything. He just looked down on her, his expression unreadable. Twilight gulped and gave a hesitant smile. Stone Quill narrowed his eyes. Twilight’s smile collapsed in on itself and she lowered her head. “Sorry,” she mumbled towards the floor. “I didn't ask for an apology, Miss Sparkle.” Stone Quill's voice was perfectly even, but Twilight knew him well enough to recognize his impatience in his choice of words. “I asked you to perform a task, which you failed to do. Again.” Twilight could feel her cheeks burning and she lowered her head further. “Well... it's really hard...” Stone Quill clicked his tongue. “I don't want to hear excuses, Miss Sparkle, I want to see results. If there is a theoretical part you have not yet fully understood, I am willing to explain it to you one more time.” Stone Quill sat down and looked at Twilight expectantly. “Otherwise, I suggest you get up now and try again.” It was hardly a suggestion and Twilight knew that. Yet recognizing a demand and following it were two different things. Her legs were trembling from exhaustion, the inside of her head felt like soaked cotton candy, and the ever-present heat made her feel like she was being roasted alive. If only I could take a break... “Preferably still during this lesson, Miss Sparkle.” Twilight stifled a sigh and shakily rose to her hooves. Her legs were still trembling, but Twilight tried to hide it by pressing her hooves against the hard floorboards. She looked at the candle, fixating on its flickering flame once more. The dance of the small fire seemed to have changed in character, no longer fearful, but instead mocking. ”You'll never be able to do it,” it seemed to laugh. Twilight tried to tap into her frustration as a source of energy, but she could only find silent agreement inside of her. The last try had already been pushing her limits, and this time she was in even worse shape. If only she was allowed to catch her breath... Twilight glanced upwards, towards Stone Quill. The elderly stallion had his gaze locked on her, wearing his usual expression of stern discontent. He didn't look like he was going to suggest a break anytime soon. Still, weren't regular pauses also part of the learning process? Twilight was pretty sure she had read something like that to that effect. “Do you have a question, Miss Sparkle?” Stone Quill's voice cut through Twilight's contemplation, dropping the young filly out of her thoughts back into the present. She blinked one, two times and then hastily shook her head. “Err, no. No, Magister Stone Quill, I wasn't...” She paused and inclined her head slightly to the left, letting her eyes wander. “Well, that is, I kind of was... purely hypothetical though! You could call it a thought experiment, really, it's nothing that you'd actually want to—” “Miss Sparkle,” interrupted Stone Quill her coolly. “Get to the point.” Twilight gulped as she looked up, directly into Stone Quill's cold, distanced eyes. It felt like her heart had jumped directly into her throat, blocking every word that she wanted to say. Yet silence was no option, the slight shimmer of impatience in Stone Quill's eyes told her that much. Finally, Twilight slowly and cautiously spoke: “I was... only wondering if... I could... take a short break?” The silence following those words was so thick that Twilight could almost taste it. Her mouth felt incredibly dry and her eyelids were slightly fluttering from the urge to squeeze themselves shut, in fearful anticipation of Stone Quill's undoubtedly furious reaction. The seconds in which Stone Quill remained silent seemed to turn into eons, each one making Twilight's thoughts race even faster. Finally, Stone Quill slightly drew breath, his jaw moved, and his tongue lifted. Here it comes, thought Twilight as she couldn't bear the tension anymore and closed her eyes, like a culprit awaiting the inevitable damnation of the court. “Do you know why you're here, Miss Sparkle?” Twilight opened her eyes and stared at Stone Quill. The words had been so far removed from anything the young filly had expected, she simply couldn't comprehend their meaning. “...What?” Stone Quill, who had been so irritated by Twilight's failure to complete her task, seemed completely unperturbed by this question. In fact, he looked perfectly calm. “Why you're here, Miss Sparkle,” he reiterated with a sweeping hoof gesture. “The reason.” Twilight continued to stare at him. What was going on here? Had he not heard her? Maybe her question had been so unreasonable to him that he simply chose to ignore it? He certainly didn't seem angry. He just returned Twilight's confused stare with a patience she had never thought possible of him. “Well?” Still confused, but not willing to risk his anger by insisting on her question, Twilight tried to collect her thoughts. “I'm... here, because... I want to learn?” “Because you want to learn,” repeated Stone Quill and tapped his chin with a hoof, as if Twilight had just proposed a very fascinating theory. “Very well. And why are you learning under me?” Isn't that a good question? whispered a flippant voice in Twilight's mind, but she ignored it. Whatever was happening right now, the Magister acted very unusual. He was almost friendly, and Twilight found that more unsettling than if he would have yelled at her. So she cautiously played along. “Because... Princess Celestia appointed you as my teacher.” “Very good!” praised Stone Quill in an almost jovial tone, and nodded. “But why is it that our Princess is personally interested in your tuition?” “Because I'm her student,” answered Twilight, faster this time. This question-and-answer-game started to annoy her. It made her feel like a foal, and Twilight hated being treated like a foal. Yet Stone Quill seemed oblivious to her irritation. “That is correct,” he said, this time a small smile dancing around the corner of his mouth. “and tell me, Miss Sparkle, why did the Princess take you under her wing?” “Because I did really well on my entrance exam.” This time, Twilight almost growled the answer. Did he have to use that kindergarten voice with her? She wasn't completely stupid! And why were they talking about this anyway? Stone Quill, however, seemed to have the time of his life. He even had a small grin on his lips as he nodded and slightly leaned forward, as if he could hardly wait for the answer of the next one. “And I wonder, how is it you did so well on this entrance exam?” That was enough! Twilight was boiling over with frustration. Just because she hadn't done so well on the exercise didn't mean he had to treat her like she was completely stupid! Defiantly, she directly faced Stone Quill, righteous anger burning in her eyes. “You don't have to treat me like a foal, Magister Stone Quill! If I can't take a moment to catch my breath, you can just say so!” Twilight's body felt like it was on fire, and for a change it was not because of the summer heat. She was so angry, she didn't even care that she had actually spoken up against a teacher! All she could think about right now that the Magister better start to treat her like a proper student, or Spirits help her, she was going to... do something! Yet her anger immediately disappeared into thin air the moment the grin fell from Stone Quill's face. An icy feeling flooded her stomach, suffocating the flames of anger inside her within a moment, and the shiver in her legs started to spread to the rest of her body. Not because of exhaustion though... “Oh, I think there is a necessity to address some fundamental things,” said Stone Quill, a chilling note in his voice that caused a particularly intensive shiver to run over Twilight's spine. “Because it seems to me like you have forgotten your position here, Miss Sparkle.” “My... position?” repeated Twilight, the words leaving her mouth against her will. Her eyes, previously poised to spear Stone Quill with their stare, were now locked on him with the frightful attention one displayed when face to face with a dangerous creature. “Your performance at the entrance exam was not good, nor was it very good. It was exceptional. You are an extraordinarily gifted pony, Miss Sparkle, and such a gift must be nurtured.” Stone Quill narrowed his eyes. “In certain cases even against the gifted pony's wishes.” Twilight gulped and took a step backwards. Had Stone Quill's earlier jovial nature been disturbingly surreal, his behavior now was of the other extreme – an icy rigor she had never seen on him before. His facial features had hardened, and there was a steely glint in his eyes that was devoid of any compassion. Stone Quill got up and began to walk around the candle, towards Twilight. “Understand this, Miss Sparkle: A talent of such exceptional nature is not just a gift. With it also comes a responsibility. A responsibility towards one's fellow ponies, towards Equestria.” As the Magister came closer, everything in Twilight instinctively screamed out to her to run away. Yet Twilight couldn't move. Her legs, just moments ago unable to stop shaking, felt as if they were made out of lead and her hooves seemed to be frozen to the floorboards. All Twilight could do was to fearfully look at Stone Quill, unable to break eye contact as he came closer and closer. Finally, Stone Quill stood directly in front of her and was looking down on the filly that fearfully shrank before him. “You have such a responsibility too, Miss Sparkle. As Princess' Celestia's student, your level of skill is a matter ponies, and other nations, can measure Princess Celestia with. And they will do so. Therefore, simply being better than other ponies is not enough. You have to be the best. You have to stand above everypony else, as a shining example of Celestia's benevolence for Equestria's ponies and as proof of Equestria's prosperity to other nations.” Stone Quill leaned forward until his face was directly in front of Twilight's. “So I hope you understand, Miss Sparkle, that rest is something reserved for when you are at home. And I also hope that from now on you will strive for better results in our lessons.” Twilight had no idea what to say. Her mind was aflutter with all kinds of things, overwhelmed by Stone Quill's words. She, an example for Equestria? The mere thought robbed Twilight her breath and made her chest feel tight. Her heart raced with anxiety, painfully hammering against her ribs. She hadn't asked for this! All she had wanted was to learn under Princess Celestia, to understand everything. Yet then Twilight's mind wandered to her mentor. To her graceful figure, and that flowing, colorful mane. The way she seemed to glide through a room and warmed every place with her mere presence. She thought of those warm, understanding eyes, and the gentle smile that appeared whenever she looked at Twilight. And as Twilight thought of those wonderful memories, she also thought of Stone Quill's words, that it would be her skill other ponies would measure Celestia with. And, inevitably, she couldn't help but wonder if, if that was true, how disappointed Princess Celestia would be if Twilight failed to live up to the other ponies' standards. Twilight looked up at Stone Quill, who was still looking at her expectantly. He raised an eyebrow. And Twilight nodded wordlessly. Stone Quill huffed. “Very well. Now then.” He turned around and walked behind the candle, sat down, and looked at Twilight. “One more time, Miss Sparkle.” --- “Gee, doesn’t he sound like a right charmer?” Applejack shook her head. “Ah don’t mean to be rude towards the Princess here, Twilight, but puttin’ ya, or any young'un, in the same room as that guy doesn’t sound like a really smart idea.” Twilight shrugged and gave a bashful smile. “Well, for all his faults, Magister Stone Quill was quite a capable teacher actually. He may be a terrible pony, but I learned a lot from him. And in the end, I came out none the worse for wear.” The serene moment of dusk had come and gone, and night had followed it closely. With the sun retreated to her mysterious resting place, the moon shone bright in the sky, accompanied by the numerous stars which sparkled playfully around it. Beneath them, Sweet Apple Acres and its surroundings were covered by the dark blue blanket of the night. Individual bright spots appeared here and there between the trees, lanterns carried by workers on their way home, but overall the darkness remained untouched. Twilight was a bit taken by surprise by this change in her surroundings. Recounting the tale of one particularly memorable lesson with Stone Quill to Applejack had taken up so much of her attention that she had completely forgotten the time. Good thing Applejack had insisted on me stopping for the day when she did, thought Twilight as she looked back to the barn. The bright red building, which had been colored just as darkly blue by the night as the rest of the farm, had shrunken quite considerably in size since they had begun walking, and now that Twilight stood at Sweet Apple Acres’ entrance, it was barely bigger than a hoof. “Alright, here we are!” exclaimed Applejack and gestured towards the sign above their heads, which read the name of the farm. Lowering her hoof, she looked at Twilight. “Think yer gonna be alright from here on out, sugarcube?” Twilight smiled. “Don’t worry, Applejack, I’m going to be fine. I’m not a little foal anymore who’s afraid of the dark.” “If ya say so,” said Applejack. Instead of turning around or saying goodbye, however, the farm pony lingered. “Listen, Twi, Ah know it’s not really my business, but…” “Yes?” asked Twilight when Applejack paused. Looking away, Applejack began to draw circles in the dirt with her hoof. “Well, Ah’m just thinkin’ that, with yer history with this Stone Quill fella and him bein’ here for the Summer Sun Celebration, ya maybe should use the opportunity to… Ah dunno, get past all that.” Twilight didn’t answer. Of all the things she had feared, should her friends learn about her past with Stone Quill, this was… well, it wasn’t really high up on the list, but she had worried about it. It was a good point, after all. Why not bury the past when there was such an opportune moment? Yet there was a difference between suggesting a good idea and actually following it through. Why dig so deep in the past when you could just try to ignore it, until it all went away again? Stone Quill wasn’t planning on staying in Ponyville forever, after all. She barely even saw him whenever she was in Canterlot! And she had already tried so often to overcome her past, but it was just not a thing that was meant to be. Or maybe you just didn’t try hard enough. Twilight shook her head to shoo away the little voice inside her head. She was not going to think about this now. Wearing a slightly forced smile, Twilight faced Applejack. “I’ll think about it.” Applejack nodded, but she didn’t look quite convinced. She opened her mouth, but then paused and looked to the side. “Did ya hear that?” Twilight followed Applejack’s gaze. The road to Sweet Apple Acres was lined by the Whitetail Woods and right now, Applejack looked at particularly thickly grown parts of the forest. At first Twilight didn’t hear anything, but then a sound reached her ears. It was a shuffling and rustling, as if somepony was trying to breach through an undergrowth with very impractical clothes. Twilight concentrated and perked her ears, trying to discern the source of the noise. It was definitely coming out of the woods… and it was also coming directly towards them. Applejack glanced towards Twilight and motioned with her head backwards. Twilight nodded and quietly, the two mares backed up, bringing open road between them and whatever was trying to break through the wood. The noise came closer, and closer, and then suddenly stopped. Twilight held her breath, Applejack readied herself to jump on the first thing that came out of that undergrowth. The seconds stretched as Twilight could hear the blood pump inside her ears. Then, a voice. “Blasted forest! I can’t even see the hoof in front of my eyes!” Applejack furrowed her brow. “Ah know that voice…,” she mumbled to herself. The voice was also incredibly familiar to Twilight. She felt like she had heard it before, and not too long ago either. Yet there was something off about it… it’s choice of words… Suddenly, the undergrowth parted with a particularly loud crack and out stumbled a pony. A cerulean mare with a silver-white mane and dressed in a magician’s cloak and hat. Twilight’s eyes went wide. “Trixie?!” Trixie looked up, and then grinned broadly. “Ah, Twilight! The Savvy and Very Un-Lost Trixie has finally found you!” Twilight blinked. “Found me? But I told you to stay at the library!” Trixie waved a hoof which was covered in small cuts and bruises. “Do not fret, Twilight Sparkle, everything is perfectly fine. The Great and Powerful Trixie simply wished for nothing more than a relaxing evening stroll and it just so happened to cross her mind that Twilight Sparkle could possibly be in this area. Think nothing of it.” “Relaxing,” repeated Twilight and looked at Trixie’s cloak, which was covered in leaves, sticks, and mud. “Right.” “Er, Twilight?” Twilight turned her head. Applejack was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, occasionally shooting a glance towards Trixie. “Mind tellin’ me what in the hay is goin’ on here?” Twilight opened her mouth, but Trixie was faster: “Why, nothing more than the wonders of friendship, my dear Applejacques.” “Wonders of friendship?” repeated Applejack with a still raised eyebrow and looked at Twilight. “What Trixie was actually trying to say,” replied Twilight, shooting a stern glance in Trixie’s direction, “was that she appeared on my doorstep today, completely out of the blue, and asked for my help.” Trixie grimaced. “Trixie would prefer the expression: “letting me partake in her adventurous lifestyle”.” Twilight ignored her. “She has no place to stay right now and so she asked me to help her find something in Ponyville, since she left a less than stellar impression the last time she visited.” “Which was all the amulet’s fault, Trixie would like to emphasize once more!” “Ah… see,” answered Applejack, still shooting an uncertain glance in Trixie’s direction every now and then. “And did ya have any luck?” “No,” sighed Twilight. “Of course not.” “Hey!” Twilight ignored Trixie again. “I have been way too busy with looking for that list. Besides, can you imagine anypony in Ponyville letting Trixie stay with them?” “She’d have to pay a lotta money,” guessed Applejack. “Such problems of monetary nature may be a bit cumbersome,” interjected Trixie cautiously, before Twilight cut to the chase. “She doesn’t have any bits.” Applejack now outright stared at Trixie, before turning to Twilight again. “Then how in tarnation does she think she’ll get any place to stay in Ponyville?” Twilight shrugged her shoulders and looked towards Trixie. “I don’t know. I was thinking of maybe getting her a place where should earn her place by working.” “Now just one moment!” exclaimed Trixie. “That’s the first the Great and Unprepared Trixie has heard of this!” “Well, ya ain’t gonna have a lot of luck there. Almost everythin’ like that has already been taken up because of the Summer Sun Celebration, with all that travelin’ folk comin through.” Twilight sighed. “I know. But there has to be still at least one place where they’re still looking for workers. Someplace big enough to offer a place to sleep and where there’s no… shortage of work…” The further Twilight got in the sentence, the slower she spoke, as she gradually turned her head upwards. The words “Sweet Apple Acres” were just readable in the dark of the night. --- The lantern’s erratic dance painted the passing houses in shadows. Their silhouettes flowed and leaped over the walls, allowing anypony to read the figure of the most unwanted company for a night into them. Consequently, to the lantern’s carrier, every scheme looked like a sudden ambush by the Royal Guard. One particularly vicious shadow, assaulting his vision from the periphery, made the stallion jump around and stare at the wall. His chest heaved under deep breaths and his wings were flared as the stallion’s eyes darted over the wall’s surface, trying desperately to find no proof for his irrational fear. A deep sigh of relief escaped his lips when he succeeded. Calmed by his inability to find any danger, the stallion folded his wings and continued on his path. The lantern he carried in his mouth swayed slightly with every step, eliciting a creak from the grip’s worn joints every time. Not for the first time since he had begun his journey through the night, the stallion cursed himself for not oiling the joints properly before setting out. On any other night, he would not have minded the rhythmic noise, perhaps even enjoyed it as a substitute for missing company. Yet tonight was different. Tonight, the plan would finally be set in motion. At last, the stallion stopped. He had arrived at the goal of his journey. The inn in front of him was the spitting image one would think of when they used the words “charmingly rustic”. The house had a stunted look, seeming too short for its width, as if somepony had started to build a barn, but halfway through had been informed that they were supposed to build an actual residential house instead. In an effort not to break with the usual ponyvillian architecture too much, the roof was made out of hay instead of roof tiles and the walls were painted beige, but still the house bore a great enough difference to the rest of the town to make it seem misplaced. Still, in their usual welcoming manner, the Ponyvillians had taken quite a liking to the building and lovingly called it “The Town Barn”. Or at least they used to do it lovingly. Ever since the building had become an inn, low rents and an administration that was not keen on asking questions had turned it into a meeting place for all kinds of shady characters. Nowadays, normal ponies steered clear of “The Town Barn”. It was a giant blind spot in the middle of the town, to which everypony was willing to turn a blind eye to, hoping to not be dragged into whatever was happening at this place. Concerning meeting spots where one wouldn’t have to worry about anypony eavesdropping on you, it was perfect. Still, that didn’t mean the stallion felt comfortable about it. I guess there are just some things you never get used to, he thought to himself. He lifted his hoof and cautiously knocked three times against the door. There was a brief moment of silence. Then, hoofsteps sounded, something clicked, and the door opened slightly. Out of the shadowy gap, a single eye spied intently through the door crack, warily sizing up the stallion. The stallion took the lantern out of his mouth with a hoof and held it up, letting it illuminate his face. “‘Bout time you showed up, Rain Wing,” grumbled the eye’s owner as he opened the door. “Trumpet ‘n I’ve been waiting.” Rain Wing lowered the lantern and held it with his mouth again. “Sorry about that, Beaker,” he mumbled past the handle as he entered. “Something came up.” Beaker grunted. “Lemme guess. Yer wife?” Rain Wing placed the lantern beneath the coat rack next to the door and blew out the light inside, before turning to Beaker with a frown. “I don't think when or when not my pregnant wife needs my help is a reason for any disdain.” Beaker shook his head and closed the door. There was another click as he turned the key and then took it out, sliding it into a pocket of his vest. He then turned to Rain Wing and motioned with his head down the corridor. “Come on.” Rain Wing followed Beaker past the stairs, which led to the guest rooms, and through another door. Behind it was a spacious room, furnished with numerous tables and chairs which looked like they had never felt the refining touch of a wood plane. On one side of the room was a bar, or at least a crude construction that served the purpose of one, on the other side a fireplace, framed by a stone chimney. Rain Wing rather guessed than actually saw those things, since the entire room was almost completely unlit. A candle, placed on a table in the middle of the room, was the only source of light in here, effectively casting the rest of the room in even darker shadows. At the table sat a unicorn stallion, who had been watching the room’s entrance cautiously. As soon as Beaker and Rain Wing entered, a wide smile appeared on his lips. “Rain Wing! So glad you could make it.” While they came closer, Rain Wing returned the smile. “Thanks. It’s good to see you, too, Rusty Trumpet. How was the journey?” Rusty Trumpet waved with his hoof. “Nothing worth mentioning. There were some difficulties with the train connections, but you know how it is, with an upcoming Summer Sun Celebration and all that.” Suddenly, his smile vanished and he gave Rain Wing a serious look. “Have you been followed?” The question sent a shiver down Rain Wing’s spine, quickly reminding him why he was here. He shook his head. Rusty Trumpet nodded. “Good. Beaker told me that most of the… regular guests have already left, since the Ponyville constabulary has become more present due to the upcoming festivities. So we should be safe from curious eyes and ears here.” Rain Wing’s mouth suddenly felt very dry and he swallowed. “Do… do you have it here?” Rusty Trumpet gave him and Beaker a stern look, then nodded wordlessly. His horn lit up and a pair of saddlebags beside him opened. A scroll floated out of them slowly, hovering between the three stallions, before softly setting down on the middle of the table. Rain Wing barely dared to breathe. This was it. This was what would change everything. He could scarcely believe that they had come that far. Beaker was not quite as enthralled. “So that’s yer “secret weapon”?” Rain Wing shot an irritated glance towards Beaker, but Rusty didn’t seem to mind the earth pony’s gruff tone. He nodded. “The very one.” Beaker snorted and eyed the scroll reservedly. “So yer plan’s, what exactly?” “Well,” began Rusty, wearing a confident smile, “For now we wait, until the Summer Sun Celebration is fully underway. And then, when Celestia steps in front of everypony to begin the traditional raising of the sun… we confront her.” Beaker blinked. “Confront her?” “On that scroll is listed every bad state of affairs in Equestria which is due to Celestia’s decision,” explained Rain Wing. “She will be unable to prepare any excuses when we surprise her like that, effectively exposing her as the irresponsible tyrant she is.” Excitement flashed in his eyes when he looked at the scroll. “After that, the ponies are bound to throw off her leash.” Beaker looked from Rusty Trumpet to Rain Wing, his eyebrow raised. “That’s it?” The two stallions looked at him confused. “What do you mean?” asked Rusty. “Well, I don’t really know that much about political debates ‘n what have ya,” admitted Beaker with a shrug, “but don’tcha think that ya two imagine this a lil’ bit too easy? There’ll not just be constables to watch out fer trouble makers, Celestia’s bound to have ponies of her Royal Guard around her as well. ‘N from what I heard, they’re not shy on the cudgel if they think yer a threat to the princess.” The mere thought of the Royal Guard sent a shiver down Rain Wing’s spine. He gave a nervous laugh. “Come on, Beaker, aren’t you exaggerating a bit?” Yet it was Rusty that shook his head. “He may have a point there, Rain Wing. When I arrived at Ponyville today, I saw a pony from Luna’s Night Watch attack somepony out of mere suspicion that there could be an assassination attempt. There was no hesitation.” The candle on the table flickered softly in a sudden breeze, sending a disquieting ripple through the shadows around the three stallions. Rain Wing swallowed. Rusty turned to Beaker. “So, what are you suggesting?” Beaker looked at Rusty, then at Rain Wing, and then leaned forward. When he spoke, his voice was a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, I’m not saying we should use it, but we should have a back-up plan. I know this one stallion who’s involved in the construction of the stands and stages, and he ain’t a pony who asks a lot of questions. For a few bits, we could ask him for a few… personal preparations on the stage Celestia’ll use. Like, just for example, a detonation spell…” Rain Wing’s eyes went wide. “A bomb?! You want to put a bomb directly under Celestia?! Are you—” “Just as a safeguard,” Beaker cut Rain Wing off with a hiss. “I’m not saying we should blow Celestia up, but if she decides she wants to cut off our heads ‘stead of listening to us, ain’t it better to have something to persuade her otherwise?” Rain Wing opened his mouth, but no words would come to him. Try as he might, he could not deny that a small part of him found Beaker’s plan not that crazy, sensible even. Still, what he was talking about was just too outrageous! In a desperate attempt to extinguish that rising acceptance inside him, Rain Wing turned to Rusty Trumpet. “Rusty, say something!” Yet Rusty didn’t answer. His brow furrowed, he had placed his two forehooves against each other and leaned on the table, looking intently at the scroll before him. For a moment that seemed like an eternity, silence hung over the small group. Finally, without looking up, Rusty spoke: “This stallion… how much do you trust him?” Beaker didn’t waste a second to reply. “Completely. He has some skeletons in his closet, he won’t want the attention he’d get from ratting us out.” Rusty nodded slowly. “And what do you think, Rain Wing?” “I…” Rain Wing knew he should vehemently object. It was what every sensible pony would do. Yet… “I think I heard enough.” Rain Wing blinked. Those words had come completely unexpected and were carried by a tone of voice he hadn’t heard before. Instinctively, he looked towards Beaker, thinking that impatience had gotten the better of him. He turned his head just in time to see his conspirator collapse on the ground. It happened too fast for Rain Wing to comprehend. The one moment, Beaker looked perfectly fine in the corner of his eyes, the next, he just slumped and fell to the floor with dull boom. All Rain Wing could do is stare at the motionless body next to him, his eyes wide in disbelief and shock. Suddenly, something flashed in the corner of his eye and the next moment, a sharp pain shot through Rain Wing's head, drilled itself deeper, and then exploded throughout his body. Rain Wing barely managed to give a yell of surprise and pain, before his knees buckled, his body leaned to the side, and his head hit the ground hard. The impact rang through Rain Wing's skull like an explosion. The pegasus groaned and blinked sluggishly, trying to see what was happening. Yet his vision, blurred from the rough landing, and the unaccustomed point of view made it difficult for him to discern anything clearly. He could hear hastily shuffling hooves, the clatter of a knocked back chair, and Rusty's voice, which sounded strangely muffled in his ears: “What the—” Due to the angle Rain Wing had fallen, his eyes were directed towards the room's entrance, allowing him to see, at least somewhat clearly, what was happening. In the darkness, a magical aura lit up, and the next moment a bright bolt exploded out of it. It shot past Rain Wing's field of vision, but he could hear Rusty give a pained grunt and an impact. Only now did Rain Wing finally understand what was happening. We're being attacked! The moment he realized this, Rain Wing's eyes went wide, and cold sweat started to break out all over his body. Why? Who could possibly want to hurt them? Could it be the Royal Guard? An icy shiver went down Rain Wing's spine as he remembered Beaker's and Rusty Trumpet's words. Oh Spirits, I don't want to die! The creaking of the floor in front of him immediately silenced Rain Wing's rampant thoughts. His eyes fixed themselves on the darkness in front of him, trying as hard as he could to see something, anything of their attacker. The creaking followed another one, and another one, but this time Rain Wing could also hear the steps of hooves at the same time. Somepony was getting closer. Rain Wing swallowed. Right now, everything in him wanted to just run away, but his legs did not obey him. The spell he had been struck with must have paralyzed him. Thus, Rain Wing could only lie there completely helpless, staring at the darkness as the hoofsteps came closer and closer. Finally, a hoof appeared out of the darkness, quickly followed by a second, a third, and then a fourth, until the assassin stood completely in the lonesome candle's light. Rain Wing barely dared to breathe as he stared at the hooves in front of him. The face was outside his field of vision, but he could see the color of the coat. It was a dark brown, reminding Rain Wing of chestnuts. Finally, a semblance of feeling seemed to return to Rain Wing's body. He still could not move his legs or wings, but it was enough for him to at least move his head. Straining, Rain Wing slowly turned his neck, directing his muzzle upwards and with it, his eyes. If he was going to be killed, he at least wanted to see who it was. It seemed like an eternity, but after a while, Rain Wing finally could see high enough to look at the assassin's face. Yet when he saw it, Rain Wing paused. It was not a pony he recognized, nor did this pony look like somepony from the Royal Guard. It was an elderly unicorn stallion. His blond-gray mane was a curly mess, yet his goat beard was neatly trimmed. What really drew Rain Wing's attention, however, were the eyes. Behind a pair of half-moon glasses were those forest green eyes that seemed to pierce through everything they looked at. And right now, they were looking directly at Rain Wing. “Now then,” the elderly stallion spoke, his voice a cold and clinical, like a scalpel. “Let’s talk, shall we?” Rain Wing opened his mouth, trying to answer, but he could only croak. The elderly stallion clicked his tongue. “Seems like I overestimated your resistance to paralysis spells, Mister Rain Wing. Or do you prefer Rising Wind?” Rain Wing stared at the stallion with a still open mouth. Then, his eyes went wide. Could it be that this stallion… ? As if reading Rain Wing’s thought, the elderly stallion continued: “Oh yes, I read the book you co-authored. Though,” he then said, looking over Rain Wing, “I dare guess that most of the writing was done by your dear friend over there.” As if on cue, there was a shuffling sound behind Rain Wing. Trying to see who the elderly stallion meant, Rain Wing craned his neck as much as he could to look behind him. He gasped when he could see. There, leaning on the table with one hoof, was Rusty Trumpet, breathing heavily. No, not heavily, Rain Wing corrected himself. Sluggishly. His unicorn friend swayed slightly and every movement from him seemed slow, as if he was tired and drunk at the same time. Yet in his eyes burned a bright fire as he stared at the elderly stallion. “You… you’re from the train station,” he slurred. “Oh? You were there?” Out of the corner of his eye, Rain Wing could see the elderly stallion wave a hoof. “No matter. I know you as well, Mister Rusty Trumpet. Or Resonating Thunder, if you prefer your pen name.” “How… do you—” “Please,” the elderly stallion cut Rusty Trumpet off. “It was almost too easy to find out your real name. After I got a copy of your book in my hooves, all I had to do was ask some questions. You’d be surprised how few disgruntled scholars in a master of literature there are in Canterlot, especially with such a fondness for dramatization. I mean, The Failings of our Self-Righteous Ruler? Rather eye-catching.” Rusty ground his teeth. “Then why… didn’t you… do anything against me?” A hoof set down right in front of Rain Wing’s face, followed by three more in turn as the elderly stallion stepped over him. “There were several reasons that prevented me from doing so, but the most important one was that I had no idea who your accomplices were. You may be terrible at inventing aliases, but you succeeded in keeping your meeting place a secret. And I didn’t want to risk to roust the rest of your little group by taking care of you. “Fortunately,” he said, casting a glimpse over his shoulder towards Rain Wing and Beaker, “I found a way to take care of that. Anyway,” He turned back to Rusty. “I have some questions.” Rusty snorted and looked away from the elderly stallion. “I’ll… say nothing… until… you take your spells… off my friends!” The elderly stallion’s horn lit up. Immediately, a magical aura engulfed Rusty and his head was smashed against the table. Rain Wing gasped, unable to do anything but watch. “You’re not in any position to make demands, Mister Trumpet,” said the elderly stallion, looking down on Rusty with icy contempt. “You and your friends conspired to assassinate Equestria’s rightful ruler. In my eyes, you have given up your rights as ponies of Equestria the moment you thought of ending Princess Celestia’s life.” The thoughts were racing in Rain Wing’s mind. Assassinate? What was this stallion talking about? All they had wanted to do was to confront Celestia about her wrongdoings! If only he could explain that to him, maybe he would understand. Yet only a croak escaped Rain Wing’s throat when he tried to speak. Swallowing any sounds of pain, Rusty gave a humorless laugh. “Ending her… life? Don’t… mistake us for… the Royal Guard… or the… Night Watch. We’re not… the ponies who… attack others… in cold blood.” With a flick of the elderly stallion’s horn, the magical aura pulled up Rusty’s head and then let it crash once more against the table. “Don’t lie to me!” barked the elderly stallion. “I heard you talk about the bomb, I know what you are planning.” “You… must have… quite… the selective… hearing then.” The elderly stallion’s eyes narrowed and his horn started to glow brighter. The table’s wood creaked as the magical aura began to apply more force on Rusty’s head, eliciting a pained grunt from him. “You’re pushing it, Mister Trumpet,” growled the elderly stallion, now a dangerous fire flickering in his eyes. “If you keep this up, I can’t promise that you will—” The elderly stallion had suddenly stopped mid sentence and slightly stumbled backwards. A groan escaped his lips and he raised a hoof to his forehead, softly touching his horn. When Rain Wing’s eyes followed the movement, he saw the reason why. The magical aura around the horn had weakened in its brightness and was now instead flickering, like a candle struggling for the last second of its life. Rubbing the flickering horn, the elderly stallion mumbled something to himself, barely audible for Rain Wing. “Ugh… not now,” he seemed to murmur. Rain Wing had no idea what was happening and a glimpse towards Rusty told him that his unicorn friend had no idea either. Yet unlike Rain Wing, Rusty did not waste any time on contemplating this for long. With a glow from his own horn, the magical aura was dispelled from his body, freeing him of any constraint. The elderly stallion looked up, but it was too late. Apparently having recovered from the paralysis spell during the interrogation, Rusty rose up, pointed his now brightly aglow horn against his assailant, and then cut loose. The blast came like an explosion and shook the entire room, throwing chairs and tables to the side and shoving even Beaker’s motionless body and Rain Wing aside for several centimeters. It lasted for only a second, but it was enough to cause a loud ringing in Rain Wing’s ears. He coughed from the awhirl dust that danced through the air and blinked, trying to see anything. He found Rusty immediately, staring towards where his opponent was. Yet what about his opponent? As fast as he could, Rain Wing turned his head - and then just stared with wide-open eyes. The elderly stallion didn’t stand where he stood before, apparently pushed back by the magical blast. Yet he did still stand. Not only that, though, he even seemed completely unharmed, aside from his wildly disheveled mane. And he looked very angry. “You shouldn’t have done that, Mister Trumpet,” he snarled as the dust parted around his glowing horn. Rusty immediately lit his own in response, but then froze in his motion. Rain Wing could not blame him. He could barely believe what he saw either. The elderly stallion’s horn was gone. Or at least its original material was, because what was on the elderly stallion’s forehead right now was a horn made out of crystal. It was rough around the edges, as if somepony had found a pointed, elongated shard on the floor of a crystal mine which was approximately the length of a unicorn’s horn. Then, for whatever reason, this somepony seemed to have thought it a good idea to try and see what happened if he stabbed another pony in the head with it, because the elderly stallion’s forehead looked just like that. The area around the crystal horn’s base was heavily scarred, almost to the point of mutilation. It looked as if somepony had cut something out in this area, only to then stab this unrefined crystal in the mangled remains of the forehead. It was a gruesome sight. Rusty Trumpet and Rain Wing stared at this abnormality with pure disbelief. “What… are you?” Rusty whispered. A magical aura grabbed Rusty again and ripped him off his hooves. Rain Wing whipped his head around to see his friend fly across the room and crash into the wall. Rusty gasped for air at the impact, but his head was pushed back against the wall immediately by the magical aura. “Right now?” Rain Wing turned his head back again at the sound of the voice. The elderly stallion slowly walked towards Rusty. His eyes were filled with something that sent shivers down Rain Wing’s spine. This was not irritation, anger, or even rage. Rain Wing had read about these kind of expressions in adventure books, heard them being described in stage plays. Yet he had never thought he would see a look of murderous intent in his own life. “Right now,” the elderly stallion growled, “I am your worst nightmare.” Cold sweat broke out all over Rain Wing’s body as he watched the elderly stallion steadily close the gap between him and Rusty. He had to do something, anything! Otherwise, his friend would surely die! Driven by furious desperation, Rain Wing tried to move his limbs, but to no avail. The paralysis was too strong. Rain Wing looked up, only to see that the elderly stallion was no more than a few steps away from Rusty. And in face of this impending danger, in face of his friend facing a fate he wanted to prevent at all costs, but with no power to do so, Rain Wing turned to the heavens. Dear Spirits, he prayed, if you exist and if you can hear me, then please, please help Rusty. Send somepony to save my friend! The elderly stallion set down his hooves from his last step as he stood directly in front of Rusty. “Now,” he growled, “it’s time to show you what a true tyrant is.” Anypony! White light exploded throughout the room. Within a moment, every shadow was cast out and banished, letting the room be illuminated by the brilliance of a sun. Rain Wing couldn’t even keep his eyes open, too bright was the light for him. He could only see in schemes how the elderly stallion and Rusty Trumpet turned their heads away as well, before he shut his eyes. Yet even with his eyelids bringing darkness, there seemed no escape from the brightness. It was as if it filled his every fiber, rolled over his body like an unstoppable flood, a force of nature. It was so overwhelming that it took Rain Wing a moment to notice that nothing menacing was coming from this light. It felt warm and comfortable, like a perfect summer day. Every worry and discomfort seemed to get washed out of his body, and when he perked his ears, he could hear a gentle melody flowing through the air. It was calming, a soothing lullaby which reminded him of the times when his mother would sing him to sleep. Then, the song grew softer. Not quieter though, just softer, more bearable for his mere pony mind. And before Rain Wing knew it, he could open his eyes again. The room was dark again, but the quality of it had changed. The shadows were no longer a threat, they seemed warm and comforting, like a thick blanket. Rain Wing’s heart felt light, even in face of the danger that was about to befall— Rusty! Rain Wing rose up and whirled around. His eyes raced through the room, until they finally found his friend. He was unharmed. Rusty just sat at the wall, staring into the distance, no menacing magical aura engulfing him. The elderly stallion stood beside him, but any intent of cruelty was washed from his expression as he looked in the same direction as Rusty. Rain Wing sighed with relief. Only then did he realize that he had regained control over his body. How is this— He interrupted himself again when he noticed that Rusty and the elderly stallion were not staring into empty space. They were looking at something in this very room. Though while Rusty wore an expression of complete disbelief and overpowering, the elderly stallion seemed defensive, all the while trying not to look like he felt… caught? Confused, Rain Wing turned around to see what the two of them were looking at. His breath caught when he saw. A goddess had descended upon them. Although the light had retreated, her presence alone seemed to illuminate the room. Her pure white coat was magnificent, her slender body the epitome of beauty. All the while her face bore the features of a gentle mother, even now, when a stern expression dominated her countenance. Her long, flowing mane shimmered gently like the finest silk, countless colors dancing on it with every ray of light hitting it. Her long, pure white wings were pristine and looked inviting, softly waking the wish in Rain Wing to be embraced by them. She was beautiful. She was what they all had feared. She stood right in front of them. “Princess Celestia,” said the elderly stallion in an even voice.