Morning.
It took some reassurances of diplomatic immunity from Ambassador Vorsl, and a promise from Jars to personally protect her, before Reflection finally agreed to go outside the Embassy walls. It all began with an offhand comment about how good she remembered pancakes being; of course, as she was doling out the salted fish at the time, the entire Embassy ganged up on her to show them.
Her mane was in a headband, a few errant strands flopping out; otherwise, she thought it looked gratifyingly unique. Her green cloak was clasped around her neck with a brooch that had lightning and claw emblem on it, the symbol of Eas and the late Griffon Empire. She's already heard the griffons reference the old Empire a dozen times in casual conversation
All in all, she felt great, and the brisk morning air of Canterlot was positively invigorating. The streets were nearly empty, the initial morning crush of working ponies having given way to tourists and nobles. And, you know, griffons and clones. The griffons tended to sleep in, much to Reflection's pleasure.
"So, anyway, that strutting Saddle Arabian looks like he saw a spirit!" Jars was saying, gesturing animatedly as they descended flight after flight of stairs, heading for the lower areas of the city.
"This 'Crown Princess Vaernya' seems like an imposing griffon," Reflection observed, shrinking at the snobbish, yet worryingly curious looks she was getting from the nobles strutting past them.
Jars nodded. "Aye, you wouldn't think it. She's nothing special physically, certainly. It's what on the inside that scared ponies like those idiots who boarded our airship outside of Redclain."
"Which is . . . ?"
"Nothing against our current High King," now he leaned in and whispered, "but he's old and slow. Unimaginative."
"And?"
Jars straightened up. "Vaernya, not even the leader of Eas yet, is already uniting the old colonies and citadels of the Empire. She's got a fire in her, the type that's led us to glory in the past," he shrugged, "or, that's what every griffon who knew the old Empire says, including Vorsl. That old hawk's seen more than you ponies give him credit for."
"He seems pretty sharp to me." Reflection huffed, before readjusting her cloak. "Ugh, this thing's not built for travelling, is it?"
"It is," Jars said, "but for another place. Not where the weather's controlled down to the raindrop, no. Here, you can just throw on whatever best suits the planned weather."
"I guess." Reflection conceded.
As they neared a dry goods store near the base of Canterlot, Jars pointed to a nearby bank. "You see that? Apparently, it got-"
Reflection had stopped moments before, wincing and holding her stomach. Upon seeing a concerned look from Jars, she waved him off and trotted up, putting on a brave smile.
"Did you eat something . . . ?" Jars began, before Reflection marched right past him and through the doors of the store.
"Ponies," he shrugged.
~
The day went as well as she could hope; she was looked up to as some kind of god for her pancakes, stuffed with more sugar than a griffon king's desert. After, she'd taken to sweeping up the hallways of the Embassy, alone for most of the time as the griffons went to another high society dinner.
Her thoughts, however, wouldn't stop lingering on the morning. It'd seemed random to Jars; at least, she hoped it did. She knew better, though. That nauseating hole in her stomach, sudden and staggering, happened when a nearby unicorn had lifted a heavy box. She'd felt some vague unease, watching other unicorns use magic around her as she'd walked through Canterlot; but those had been small things and relatively far away. That stallion was clearly exerting himself magically, and it'd hit her like a force.
As she lay in her bunk, still for the first time that day, she felt a little twitchy. She tossed and turned, but couldn't find a good spot. One moment, her skin burned at the slightest contact; the next, she was pulling the covers over her, a chill causing her limbs to shake uncontrollably. If she didn't know any better, it felt like she was coming apart.
Eventually, mercifully, she fell to sleep.
She'll feel better tomorrow.
~
The next day, she stayed cooped up in the Embassy. Midway through the day, she'd made the mistake of looking out the window as she was preparing some food. She saw a unicorn stallion levitate a bouquet of flowers to an pegasus mare; she'd felt some vague stirrings of unease at the sight, until the mare had taken them with a bubbly smile and flew off in excitement, right past her window.
She'd been reading up on Equestrian culture that morning, to better expand on the distant memories that had allowed her to go about daily life. She knew pegasi were magical in their ability to fly, and her theory from yesterday was confirmed. She recoiled from the window, almost falling to the floor. Her legs were shaking, her muscles feeble, and again her skin flashed from burning to freezing.
As she raised a hoof in front of her face, she stared in mute horror as the bright pink faded, then glowed, and finally settled to its original pigment.
She organized the crates the hidden below-ground storage room for the rest of the day.
~
Another day of skulking around the Embassy, although she noticed her food beginning to loose its taste. Probably. The griffons hadn't had anything big to do that day, but luckily most of the them went on a tour of the Canterlot cave system like any old tourist. That'd left her, Jars, and Karlya alone in the building. A requested repainting of the Embassy doorway was agonizing for her, glancing around to make sure nopony came near. It was a hasty job, in the end.
Other than that, her stigma of the outside world had been pretty well respected that day. Jars, however, seemed to be growing ever so suspicious of her - and she couldn't blame him.
~
Next morning, Jars had cornered her after breakfast and asked if she'd go with him and Karlya to a nearby bar. She knew what that probably meant to him, and silently congratulated him; but she still was morose over the course of the day, the inevitability of running into magic use at the bar putting a dampener on any potential excitement.
Still, once she got there, it wasn't so bad. They picked a shadowy corner and cavorted late into the night, mostly singing griffon drinking songs that decreased in quality as the night went on. Much to her relief, Jars had insisted on grabbing the drinks from the counter himself, avoiding the possibility of somepony levitating a cup over to her.
That was, until a particularly bold salespony had swaggered in near closing time.
"Blueleaf's Patented Blemish Removal!" he announced grandly, "Try one and you'll never go back to baths, makeup, or anything else like that again! Try one treatment for free!"
She hadn't paid much attention to him until he'd found a volunteer, idly watching the scene. His horn glowed, and the volunteer's body was covered in a blue glow, sparkling with concentrated magic. True enough, blemishes on his skin were wiped away, but she nearly keeled over from the overflow of magic.
Her heart nearly stopped when she heard the triumphant salespony address her. "You, there! You look like you could use a free trial of my technique!"
Sure, she was in a sorry state. Bags under her eyes from lack of sleep; small cuts and bruises that hadn't fully healed from her ordeal several days ago.
But she didn't dare think what would happen if he covered her in magi-
"Well, why don't we find out!"
Every nerve in her body exploded, burned, and froze all at once. She shrieked in pain as the blue glow washed over her; it stopped a second later as the surprised salespony recoiled at her outburst. She saw a hoof flicker, and she screamed even louder as pandemonium erupted in the bar. Her griffon companions hauled her out at her own behest, the other ponies stared in horror; luckily, Jars and Karlya had trusted her when she begged for them not to let unicorn healers arrive and work her over.
The next few minutes were a blur, barely feeling the rough cobblestone she was being dragged over. She threw up along the way to the Embassy, shaking violently, but they made it.
As alarmed griffons cleared off a table that doubled as healer's table and Vorsl pulled out the medicinal chest, she saw through the haze of pain the griffons stop in confusion.
Jars stood there, a bulky splinter from a rotting table in the bar gripped in his claws. She followed their gaze down to her own leg, and realized with a start that it'd come from there, embedded.
And the wound did not bleed in the slightest.
She stared at the flickering, unnatural hole where the splinter had been, and started shaking with greater force.
And it was going so well.