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// Chapter 24: Hidden History, Varied Vignettes 
// Story: Destiny's Call: The tales of a foreigner in a familiar land 
// by Zenith Starwalker 
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	The pale light of Luna’s moon provided silvery beams of illumination via slits in the thick canopy as I silently walked the shoddy road from Zecora’s home in the Neverfree to the markedly less lush graveled pathways leading into Magiville. I grunted wordlessly to myself as some of my burn injuries acted up with a sharp flare of pain, which mercifully receded as the natural analgesics in the shamaness’s wrappings covering them reasserted its hold. I was very deep in contemplative thought as my fingers idly drummed at the coarse wooden casing of the box containing the tealeaves that were so critical to Celestia’s all important tea. Namely I was reviewing the tumultuous events that only latterly took place nearby on the old castle grounds of the Royal Sisters.

I had ended yet another life, and while I had retained the same level of indifference about my actions as the last time, I needed to be sure I wasn’t becoming a cold blooded killer. Convincing myself of this wasn’t exceedingly difficult, seeing as I could also pass this one off as self defense in a loose sense. The revenant pyromancer tried to kill me and we fought to the death, both at range and up close. I doubted that I could talk him down even if I was endowed with Celestia’s impressive repertoire of words for disarming diplomacy. He came off as the kind that did as he pleased as though nobody could stop him, at least until I did anyway. I won that fight by the skin of my teeth and equally exhausted magic reserves, end of story right?

Though what about the man’s magically bound soul? Did I really have the right to use the instrument that empowered him to such a sizable degree against him, and imprison him so? Perhaps not… but it was either that or allow him to become a problem somewhere down the line, and this time he would have a plan that took what I was capable of into account and devise countermeasures that would ensure that the next fight had a very different outcome. To say nothing of the disturbing concept that this man was short circuiting the lives of the people whose bodies he inhabited for his own usage. To me, the soul was an unquestionably sacred essence (A belief that was only reinforced by the immense beauty that I saw in Lyra’s own soul after I undermined the Night Terror’s curse on her), and to find out that there was magic in this land that enabled someone to usurp another being’s body using their own spirit sickened me beyond words. 

I resolved to do some serious research on the character of ‘Azure Phoenix’ and discover just how much of what he told me was truth, and how much he withheld in order to paint himself as this well intentioned vigilante who took matters into his own hands. It was propitious for me that the Sun Princess was in town while this happened. If the treebrary’s collection of history books proved to be inadequate (supposing that their written works were as suppressed as I was inclined to think), I could simply ask her for the most relevant material that she had in her palace’s archives. If Celestia was as long lived as many saw her to be, then I might even be able to inquire into her own knowledge relating to the elder days before the founding of Arcania.

I supposed that I should be thankful that I wasn’t set upon by any of the numerous predators that lurked in the darkness of the woods. With my magic as drained as it was, I wouldn’t be able to defend myself from afar before having to tussle with some big and nasty critter that would be armed with teeth, claws, stingers, or other lethal weapons. I brushed a free hand against the damaged, flaking skin of my face, feeling the dried residue of the herbalist’s salve that coated it and expedited the healing process. I was already slightly crispy from the many close calls I had with the pyromancer’s fire spells, I didn’t need to add claw marks to that list. 

The ever present aura of the dangerous forest felt abnormally subdued to my higher senses, almost serene. It was hard to truly describe, but I felt as if the forest itself had recognized that I underwent a great trial in its domain and would guarantee a right to safe passage for the duration of my visit (though the assurance of protection would wear off for future ventures). This inexplicable presentiment made me suspect that the Neverfree possessed some kind of semi sentience or linked collective conscious that governed it and subtly influenced all that lived within its confines. Given everything I’ve witnessed up to this point, it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch for me to believe that the Neverfree was an entity in and of itself.

The sensation of ‘eyes’ on me from the Neverfree gradually subsided as I made it to the tree line that marked off the boundaries of the wilderness. I stood on the metaphorical edge of the forest before closing my eyes and breathing, deep in rumination. My thoughts cycled towards the dreams that I had that morning, and how they were charged with violent images of crimson flames that lay waste to everything and choked the atmosphere with ash and smoke, much like what I had seen in the previous hours. The hopeful part of me wanted to declare that my ‘vision’ had come to pass and that the peril I beheld in my sleep had been overcome. 

But my realistic side knew better than to fully place my trust in wishful fancy. Tonight was only a bitter taste of the tribulations that were to come. Only a fool would presume that this looming threat on the horizon was a problem that could be solved within the course of a single evening, no matter how very nearly it came to reducing me to a charred cadaver. The only question that was left to me was how adjacent to reality those dreams were. Were they a run of the mill premonition? Or were they symbolic of things eluding my comprehension? Fortunately I cannot recall seeing any type of death that claimed the lives of innocent people, but everything they cherished was consumed by a great conflagration. I would have to speak to the Princess of the Night. With her extensive experience in the no doubt fascinating field of oneiromancy, she could council me on the prophetic properties of dreams.

The solid weight in my chest pocket pulled me out of my musings and reminded me that I was technically escorting an important prisoner to the highest authority in the land. Celestia would conceivably do one of two things: she would either destroy it outright (unlikely, as that would risk freeing the pyromancer’s soul to plague the world once more and hijack bodies again), or she would seal it away somewhere secure where the chances of it being used for malevolent purposes would be drastically reduced. I think it was safe to assume that the habitually benevolent Princess would only turn to destructive measures as a means of last resort only (and even then, regretfully so). I patted the bulge with a subconscious movement to make sure that it was still where I had stowed it before resuming my travel into the sleepy town, the sound of my boots infrequently grinding against the cobbled stonework being the only noise that accompanied my passing. 

‘I hope Celestia and Twilight aren’t too worried about my prolonged errand. Of course, the marks on my face will be a dead giveaway that I ran into some trouble anyway. I’d better not receive any seared scars from this misadventure, otherwise I’ll be most displeased’ I fumed to myself as the familiar silhouette of the Golden Oak library came in reach of viewing distance. 

The lights were still on (not that I expected Twilight to call it a night and turn in before I returned with her precious mentor’s tea ingredients) and my superlative sense of hearing was able to pick up on hushed conversation coming from inside as I brushed the soiled soles of my feet on the rigid bristles of the welcome mat. Heaven forbid that I track any dirt on the natural wooden carpentry of the living library. I didn’t knock as I entered this time, wanting to get straight to the gist of the ongoing dialogue between the Sun raiser and her magical prodigy.

With no solid obstructions in the way, I was able to tune in on their dialogue with crystal clarity, “I realize this my student, and I cannot begrudge you for wanting a clearer picture of his inner character… even if you may have taken it a few steps too far in achieving that goal” The admonition in the Princess’ voice was light, but I could all but feel Twilight wincing from the cushioned rebuke none the less. 

I rounded the corner and saw the two women seated in humble wooden chairs inside the kitchen room. The angle was such that I would only appear on the very outskirts of their peripheral vision, and only if they weren’t occupied with speaking their minds could they realistically notice my presence (although Celestia’s equally keen hearing could probably still detect my soft footfalls, since I had no mana to cast a spell to mask them with). It seemed that my fears were unfounded, as neither of them made any remarks about my lateness. They must have talked about quite a bit in my absence. Either that, or Twilight was stalling for time in the event that I was delayed. I wouldn’t put it past her.

“I know I made a grave mistake! I’m so sorry Prin-” Celestia gestured for Twilight to stay silent with an upward extension of her index finger. The student’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click of her teeth.

I was almost impressed with how automatic the bookworm’s response was. Her readiness to obey the Princess was an admirable quality, if not painting her as being totally submissive. Not that such a quality was necessarily a bad thing; I just hoped that it didn’t blindly apply to every other person of authority as well. Twilight may be a smart girl, but how adept she was at employing wisdom, remained to be seen.

Celestia continued her speech, “Zenith’s… unique social disposition makes him more challenging than most everyone else you’ve encountered so far in your education on what makes Friendship itself Magical. But regardless of this withdrawn attitude of his, he needs dependable friends in his life just like you do. Perhaps even more so” She said with sincerity, clasping her students hands in hers and giving them a firm shake.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Zenith?” Celestia asked aloud, an indiscernible hint of smugness in her tone. I wasn’t surprised that she did indeed hear my approach. My unadulterated sneaking skill was in dire need of some polishing work.

I guess I was through with eavesdropping for the day. I made my way further into the interior of the kitchen to formally make my presence known, “Not really, though I have returned triumphant from my quest!” I announced with a little dramatic flair in my voice that Rarity would approve of. 

I set the simplistic tea box down on the table for Twilight to unlatch and inspect the contents of. The table was already set up with three dainty teacups that would never satisfy my intense thirst after all of the fluid I had sweat out in my heated duel against ‘death’ itself. It was somewhat odd to me that neither of them bothered to look up at my chapped face when I initially came in, but I ultimately dismissed it. In fact, I’d even make a meager game out of it, whoever was the first to realize that I went through a great ordeal so they could sit here and drink tea would win a boatload of brownie points (to be redeemed at any time). I was currently banking on the high-strung librarian. She could really use them.

“Excellent!” Twilight chirped with a satisfied nod, getting up and manually retrieving a kettle of hot water that was left simmering on the stove. 

I briefly wondered why she wouldn’t just use her magic to save herself the effort, but classified it as a way of keeping herself modest despite how easily she could do it. I personally would utilize magic every time, but that’s just because I was almost as prone as Dash to my more lazy vices.

The bookish woman came back to the table with the kettle in hand and finally enveloped the tea box in the purple aura of her magical field before taking out six of the distinctively iridescent leaves and putting two of each into the teacups. She followed up this pseudo mundane action by unleashing a steady stream of warm liquid into the puny porcelain containers. I watched with barely concealed intrigue as the lustrous leaves began immediately imbuing their unique coloration into the water. It wasn’t quite to the level where it would resemble something tainted with the obscenely polychromatic Zapple juice, but it was close. Whatever was in these leaves that made them special worked their magic quickly. Of course, it probably was magic that was responsible for the rapid reaction.

“Tea is served! I hope I prepared it just as you like, Princess. Just below boiling point and without additional sweeteners!” She exclaimed, a faintly nervous tremor in her voice as she placed the kettle back on the stove and reclaimed her seat.

“I assure you that it would be quite challenging to prepare it any other way that I wouldn’t enjoy all the same, my dear Twilight” Celestia responded in good grace, a smile adorning her features as she took lady like sips of her refreshment of choice.

I meanwhile had downed my serving in one brisk draft like an uncivilized man who languished too long wandering the Mojave without a canteen. Necessity took precedence over propriety any day of the week in my book, luckily neither woman created a big fuss over it (or observed the damage that I had endured so we could even drink the damn tea in the first place). I made smacking sounds with my tongue as I tried to process the flavor, only to find that I couldn’t. 

I dare say it was even more confounding than trying to describe the flavor of pure water. Though the more I thought about it, the more I felt as if it copied the myriad flavors of all my favorite drinks in one. It didn’t overlap either. Each assorted flavor somehow remained separate from the other and yet singular all at once. The most shocking aspect of this drink however, was that I could sense a small volume of mana return to me in a moderate trickle. This Elysian blend of tea somehow revitalized the drinker’s magic reserves. It wasn’t that much to make it equivalent to something like a mana potion, but it was there.

I had to hand it to her. Celestia had superb taste in tea.

“Drat, and here I thought my special-tea would only ever exist in the realm of dreamlike fantasy” I absently commented, drawing the visual scrutiny of my company.

“What do yo-” Twilight paused with a short gasp, “Zenith! What in the world happened to your face?” She pointed to me, along with the inflammation marking my countenance. On the plus side, she finally won some desperately needed brownie points with me. 

Alas, it’s a real shame that my tendency to turn as red as a lobster rather than develop a nice tan had followed me into this strange, new world.

I wanted to roll my eyes. How kind of her to take that into account just now, “Ran afoul of some trouble in the Neverfree. And if you think I look bad, you should see what happened to the other person” I chuckled callously as I poured myself another serving after using a negligible amount of mana that the magical tea had replenished to float the kettle back over.

“Other… person?” She said, her brow knitting itself in confusion.

“A lengthy matter I’d like to discuss with her Royal Highness here” I cut her off as soon as she opened her mouth, “In private, if you don’t mind” I did mind as a matter of fact, if my formal but impatient tone was any indication.

“Oh, umm…” She looked to her mentor for instructions, who simply nodded toward the archway in response, “I’ll just… leave you two to converse in peace then”

Celestia waited until Twilight had relocated herself to a contrasting part of the library (probably to reorganize and dust her shelves for the umpteenth time) before taking an additional drink of her tea, “You know, I often wonder if you refer to me formally in an attempt to get under my skin or if you actually defer to protocol periodically. Your cryptic style of sarcasm is… difficult to reliably decipher” She confessed to me as she set the cup down on the table with a ‘clink!’.

I drummed my fingers against the table in sequence, “I’ll take that as a compliment. And the answer to that is none of them. Twilight just gives me the evil eye every time I speak of you as if we were on a first name basis, like two people who can confide in each other do” I sarcastically droned. I motioned with the kettle if she wanted a refill, to which she graciously accepted.

“Yes, Twilight is partial to ‘going by the book’, as it were. Especially when it comes to interacting with members of the royal family” She said as she took another sip and swirled the liquid inside with a circulating movement of her hand, “Although… I did notice that she makes an exception for you” She observed, her bright, beautiful eyes searching for an explanation for this in my dispassionate own.

I casually shrugged, “I had to correct her for the first few instances and remind her that I wasn’t officially recognized as royalty by any means, but operant conditioning eventually kicked in”

She stared at me for a few seconds, “And did you have to take out a rolled up newspaper and swat her with it a few times before this unprecedented exclusion occurred?” She deadpanned with a straight face, but there was a glint in her eyes that gave away her amusement.

‘Silly Celestia, knowingly making a reference to the training of a pooch is more along the lines of Pavlov’s work’

I smirked, “Not even once. Though I admit to being tempted to grasp for the spray bottle on more than one occasion” I jested in return. We spared a moment to appreciate our mutual linguistic touché before getting down to business.

“In all seriousness though, I encountered someone in the Neverfree that deserves our full attention. Somebody who was quite dangerous, but also quite neutralized by yours truly”

“And just who was this mystery character? Where are they being held now?” She asked in unhurried succession.

I tapped at my breast pocket, “They’re being kept right here”

She didn’t register what I meant at first until I reached inside and pulled out the torc like jewelry with the touchstone attached to one of the metal studs on the end. When her eyes caught sight of it, they widened by a degree that I very rarely witnessed for myself. I gingerly set it down of the table surface where it failed to make an ominous, all encompassing drumbeat like one would expect in the movies. 

Rather anticlimactic if you ask me.

‘Perhaps that is a property that only objects of unspeakable evil like the One Ring possess’ I drolly thought as Celestia all but gawked at the presently harmless touchstone blending in with the darkened table like any other common household article.

After a little while spent gazing at the faintly pulsating rock, she spoke, “I thought the Trifect’s Touchstone to have been lost, or ultimately destroyed. How did you come by this?”

‘Looks like I wasn’t wrong about its designation’ I noted with no sense of deductive achievement.

“I removed it from the neck of the man who tried to kill me” This time there was an utter lack of flippancy in my tone.

“And you encountered this man in the Neverfree? Wearing the touchstone? What did he look like!?” She said with an urgency that betrayed her normally calm composure.

I remained placid. Perhaps she would indeed know just who it was, “Tallish, spiked hair, made arrogance seem like an art form, and really liked to toss fireballs around like it was going out of style”

There was nothing in her expression that divulged to me if she recognized anyone with that profile. Her reaction to this news piqued my own curiosity. Just what was her connection to this touchstone?

“And did he commit any crimes?” She asked after a transient lull passed. Her voice was laced with muted disappointment.

“Yes… right after he barged into Miss Zecora’s home and nearly killed her in his mad search for the touchstone. He also attempted to deep six me after I gave chase and refused to be a part of his loose cannon madness when I confronted him” I absently rubbed at my midsection where he had scored more than a couple glancing hits, feeling gladdened that the spot was still numbed by Zecora’s frond like bandages.

“This Zecora had the touchstone then? How?” She asked, placing a lower priority on everything else.

“That is something you should ask your student. I’m frankly shocked that she neglected to mention a vital matter like this to you in her reports. She does know Zecora better than most… you’d think she’d register that she made a bit of a slip up entrusting a solitary medicine woman with its safekeeping” I said as I finished off a draft of tasty tea. Don’t get me wrong, I admired the foreign born shamaness, but she was ill suited for fending off attacks by renegade fire mages by herself.

Celestia’s eyes narrowed, much like they did when I revealed that I knew about Spike’s unique mail oriented talent, “And just how do you know this?”

“Zecora herself told me as much. A charming woman, she is. Likes to speak to people with the most endearing couplets” Even in a world filled with all kinds of magical things and bizarre happenstance, there’s still some things that manage to set people apart from the norm.

Even more impressive was that Zecora doesn’t let her peculiarity limit her topics of conversation either. What a lexicon she must have in her mind! I suspect that she doesn’t do many things with a primarily prosaic motive. I hid a grin by taking a nice, long swig of tea. I couldn’t wait to acquaint myself more with the enigmatic herbalist in the future.

Celestia hummed thoughtfully, “Twilight has informed me of that atypical characteristic. Though I’ve yet to receive a report detailing how she reacts when subjected to themes relating to the citrus family of fruits” She expressed as she made light of the situation. The non sequitur threw me off a bit, but I realized that Celestia wanted to preserve a modicum of the good mood that permeated the air of the library.

I vocalized an ‘ah’, playing along, “Then you’ll be pleased to know that I found that out personally. Zecora merely dismisses the attempt to subvert her verbal habits, all in superlative rhyme” She likely had a whole list of responses prepared beforehand in case of that scenario.

“I see…” She began, “It was worth a try then. How did you subdue this man?” The oddly detached way the Princess asked her questions made me feel as if this was more of an investigation than our usual tête-à-tête.

I curled my lips back and exposed my canines, “By slaying him and stuffing his magically bound soul into that glorified rock, otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed dead” I lifted a finger to point at said means for terminating the rogue pyromancer’s cycle of unnatural rebirth.

Celestia took my nonchalance in stride, save for a lifted eyebrow, “And how did you accomplish that?”

“I essentially reversed the intrinsic ‘polarity’ of the touchstone and turned it into a selectively magical vacuum. I introduced the newly modified touchstone into the man’s chest and let the stone do the rest. I built a funeral pyre for his body (‘One of them anyway’) afterwards. It seemed… fitting, I guess” I concluded with a half shrug.

“I see. Then may…” She purposely trailed off.

“Azure Phoenix” I filled in for her.

She crooked her head in respect for the recently deceased, “Then may Azure Phoenix find peace”

“The name doesn’t ring any bells?” I asked without joining in, having already carried out his funeral arrangements myself.

She slowly shook her royal noggin, “I may have heard a name like that in passing long ago, but he and I have never met before. Nor do I think that I will get the chance, now that he has been sealed away” She didn’t appear to regret this in the slightest.

“You are going to ensure that he stays sealed away right? Not that I’m afraid, but the last thing he did before expiring was vow revenge against myself” He had no right to be so angry about his defeat if you ask me. Nobody who instigates conflict without knowing what they’re getting into should be that surprised when the tide turns in opposition to them.

“I have a few vaults warded and guarded against unauthorized intrusions safely tucked away beneath the capital city. The power of the Trifect’s Touchstone shall never again be misused” She asserted, sweeping the object in question up and wrapping it in several layers of cloth that she tore from the folds of her regal dress before putting it away. I blinked away my bemusement. She probably had dozens of that outfit anyway.

“May I request access to any official records you might have with anything referencing an Azure Phoenix from the Pre-Arcania days?”

She considered it with swiftness, “Granted. I’ll have the palace archives send copies of its original manuscripts by the midday following the next. They’ll be delivered to this library, in case Twilight would also like to peruse them. Why the sudden interest in figures from a bygone era?” 

“I’d just like to know the unbiased truth behind the guy whose soul I was forced to imprison within a rock. Historical documentation is my best bet, seeing as I can’t just ‘ask’ him (‘Not that he was very keen on giving me a history lesson over frying me to a crisp’). Is that such a crime?” I shot back, somewhat defensively.

She dipped her head forward, “As you wish. Though I’m afraid we might not possess much in the way of information committed to paper from those days. Much truth pertaining to those happenings before the unification have been lost to time, and even my own memory fails me when it comes to the finer details. And while the scholar in me despises this sentiment to a large degree… I regret little of how things turned out”

So the Sovereign is higher on the totem pole of importance than the Scholar. It makes no difference to me. That’s why I was asking for the paper instead of picking her less than impartial brains.

While we were on the topic of bygone relics, “What’s the story behind the touchstone anyway? You looked at it like you’d seen a ghost”

She froze for half a second and took a deep breath that was riddled with underlying tension, “Because in some regards… I have. The touchstone was one of the last major creations of a dear friend of mine named Starswirl” A bittersweet smile graced her face, “Back before his sheer ingenuity with the magical energies that flow all around and his namesake facial hair earned a permanent place in the histories”

I was aghast at this new tidbit of info, ‘Celestia knew Starswirl the Bearded in person!?’ Wow… I’ve never directly asked how old the Solar Monarch was, but this revelation was a pretty indicative landmark.

My reluctance to respond to that cued for the Princess to continue, “I can see that this has caught you off guard. But it is the truth, in fact he was the first person to find us after Luna and I ascended as the earliest Trifects. Frankly, the texts never give him enough credit for all of his incredible achievements. That man was instrumental in both my sister’s and my own development as the new rulers of what was then a very young Arcania with an uncertain future”

She closed her eyes as she relived a portion of her past, “I’ll never forget his advice when I struggled with making hard calls as one of the Diarchs. ‘Making decisions you don't want to make is part of what being a ruler is about’ He told me, and it only began to settle in after many years of doing just that” Celestia was only half there as she gave me an account of her past. Her lowered pitch to match that of a wizened old man was impressively spot on.

She resumed her monologue after a moment of trancelike silence, “I applaud how this hesitation to do what is necessary, no matter how badly you wish for there to be a better alternative, is absent in you, Zenith. I have no doubt that you will make a sublime leader someday” Her optimistic tone was touching, even if I still wasn’t a fan of having any part in this whole ‘Princeship’ thing.

‘No, I just get all moody about it afterwards’ I mentally grumbled, unwilling to give voice to my thoughts for the time being.

“Extraordinary… and what happened to him? The books never explicitly mentioned what ultimately became of the great Starswirl” I asked, shifting the subject away from myself. What better source of answers than the woman with first hand accounts of him?

When her eyes opened again, they were murky with a number of emotions that I couldn’t make out with ease, “I do not know. One day he just… vanished. My sister and I personally led the search for him using all of the scrying magic and resources at our disposal, yet we came up with nothing. No magical trace, no paper trail, not even a letter saying where he left. It was as if he simply disappeared off the face of the Earth”

‘Perhaps he was abducted by aliens’ I wryly thought. 

It actually wasn’t that farfetched of an assumption, now that I think about it. I myself was basically stolen away from my home by unknown entities of some sort, if what Discord let slip was any clue. Or maybe he (or she, if you want to get hung up on technicalities) was just trolling me. It’s difficult to tell with that irritatingly misleading bureaucratic trickster. Either way, we would be having some serious words if I ever came into contact with the beings that brought me here.

“I can’t imagine finding any kind of closure for that. Someone who was that close to you, just evaporating into thin air? That’s rough. You have my sincerest sympathies, Celestia” I offered with the utmost honesty. I don’t even want to envision how well (or more accurately, poorly) my own family has coped with my loss. 

She stared down into the depths of her half drained teacup, “It’s an old wound, Zenith. And while it has never completely healed, it no longer pains me so. But I appreciate your heartfelt gesture none the less” 

She tilted the cup back and finished off her second serving before speaking, “Where are my manners? I haven’t shown even the slightest bit of concern over the injuries you sustained in your incursion with this Phoenix character” She self scolded with a sour expression. I couldn’t fault her for coming off as uncaring to my wounds. Our sense of priorities can often mix themselves up, I knew that well enough.

It was my turn to imitate insensitivity to my pains, “Just a few burns here and there, nothing that Zecora hasn’t already seen to with her natural remedies. On a similar note, Rarity must have used some very durable material when she stitched these robes together, because they’re remarkably resistant to burn damage” I’d still need to see her to get some repair work done, but the damage was substantially lighter than I expected. This was even more evident to me now that they were fully exposed to the illumination of the treebrary.

“That is very good news. You’ll be relieved to know that your recuperation period should be quite brief. As Trifects, we possess a rapid healing factor that has confounded and will continue to confound most doctors far into the future. You’ll be on the mend and your burns will fade away within one astral cycle’s time. Though I must warn you that you will have hunger pangs unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, afterwards” She forewarned, undoubtedly from personal experience.

I was skeptical of that statement, “I dunno… I’ve had nearly mythical onsets of munchies in the past. And I’m a rather heavy eater to begin with, so…”

She brushed my doubts aside, “You will know hunger more intimately than ever before. I assure you of this, Zenith” Her stern tone brooked no further contradictions.

“Well then, it’s a favorable thing that my cloud home came with a fully stocked pantry” I wasn’t terribly worried, either way.

I was suddenly reminded of the cheesecake that was sitting in my fridge, waiting to be shared and eaten with Fluttershy. I was going to have to find space in my schedule for that later.

“You might have to restock, before long” Celestia half joked, “So what else was this man capable of? Besides casting fire spells?”

My forehead scrunched itself together as I scowled, “I didn’t really see much in our fight from his side that didn’t relate back to the same thing. I gleaned enough from our initial conversation that this man was clearly off of his rocker, so I wasn’t about to let someone as vile as he was escape with something that granted him even more power than he needed. His brand of magic was… different than what I’m mostly familiar with. He mentioned something about ‘turning to the righteous anger within’ to fuel his fire spells to such an intensity that they could purportedly harm even icy spirits like Windigos” Now that I think about it, his magic sounded obscurely like Soulfire, though with significant differences, such as a lack of structure and direct connection to the soul.

My face darkened, “There’s another thing else I must bring up. This Azure Phoenix had, at one point, access to magic that allowed him to persist beyond his natural lifespan by subjecting his soul to some kind of magic that would seek out the offspring of his followers to use their bodies as his vessel. I would like nothing better than to dismiss it as the bold claims of a delusional pyromaniac, but the fact that he was a Valkyrian casting fire spells and the sorcery that happened after his demise has left little room for uncertainty in my mind”

Celestia was likewise troubled by this news, “Such magic shouldn’t be possible, only by mutual consent can a person usurp another being’s body, and such agreements are rarely permanent”

That’s what was so twisted about the whole yarn, “What if someone agreed for you... beforehand? And used their own lifeblood to seal the deal?” I injected. Whoever refused to object in aiding in Phoenix’s psychosis and contributed their own offspring for it deserved the worst ancestors of the millennia award.

The Princess looked disgusted at this, “Blood magic was forbidden for a reason. Not only is it immoral, but it also has a corruptive influence that only worsens with time. All those who perform its black rituals to gain power from it gradually devolve into distorted mockeries of their former selves” 

I snorted derisively, “Serves them right for committing such atrocious acts to start with. Although this Azure Phoenix still had the gall to think of himself as some heroic vigilante after all these years. He even claimed to cleanse the roadways of bandits and put down other gangs of brigands that plagued society”

“Arcania has a low enough population of outlaws that this Phoenix must have been traveling frequently to sate his yearning for ‘justice’. Yet roving gangs of bandits themselves are few and far between, only stalking the sparsely patrolled routes at the outlying edges of our borders, where guard garrisons are the weakest in concentration. Though this hasn’t stopped most mercantile companies from paying a hefty sum of coin to use the well protected toll roads that Concordia’s own Fancypants oversees and operates, as I’m sure he’s informed you himself” Celestia relayed, once again revealing to me that her eyes and ears on my activities and location were always watching and interminable. Not sure how I was supposed to feel about that.

‘If the seedier portions of the capital city are any indication, there will always be eyes and ears for belligerents looking to prey on weak merchant caravans’ I thought cynically. I’d like to take Celestia at her word when she says that crime is not some huge, glaring issue in the overall nation, but it still makes me uneasy when I think about it existing in such an idyllic country.

Another draft of the special liquid went down the chute and soothed my achy throat, “Nigel is a good, upstanding man, and I do genuinely believe that he puts society’s needs before his own. Not to mention that he is a highly competent player in the unspoken game of garnering respect from others and currying favor with the right people” I acknowledged, having enjoyed my time as his esteemed houseguest.

I may have even been one of those people whose approbation he sought. There was that slight increase in his already genial behavior towards me after he found out that I worked side by side with the Princesses. Though it’s probably just a second nature habit, much like Celestia’s tendency to think and act with long term goals in mind.

“But I’m digressing here. You told me that the Trifect’s Touchstone was a creation of Starswirl’s? How did that come about?” I could hear the sound of a book being dropped in the next room, making me suspicious of the authenticity of the bookworm’s busywork in the main chamber. Twilight had better not have been eavesdropping on things that did not concern her, although she was responsible for not ensuring that such a perilously alluring item was entrusted to someone with the know how to keep it out of the wrong hands.

“He made it as a way of measuring our power output after we ascended. No one knew exactly of what we were capable of, as we were the first of our kind among the three clans. Some even regarded us as Goddesses given flesh and wanted to worship us of all things! We were quick to discourage such practices and remind our subjects that we had more in common with them than they realized” She elucidated, her aversion to becoming idolized heightening my considerable esteem for her ever so modestly.

“What was this newly minted touchstone’s capacity for storing magic?” I asked, still digesting the idea of the common people looking upon the woman in front of me as a living deity. Revering respect for royalty was a tenable notion, but prostrating one’s self before them is positively absurd… as well as sacrilegious by my standpoint. But I’ll keep that wee opinion to myself.

“Theoretically it was crafted to have been able to contain an all but infinite amount of magic, so there was no risk of it overloading no matter how much of our sizable reservoir of mana we pumped into it. You could say that it was a means for ‘testing our mettle’” She said with a self amused grin. I had to admit that it was a decent context for a pun.

“I’m guessing that something took place that circumvented its intended purpose?” A mana battery that was charged even by a younger and less powerful Luna and Celestia would be brimming with arcane juice. 

I should count myself lucky that it was only equal to Cadence’s current level of magic at that point; otherwise I might not have been here to even discuss the very object that nearly ended me. Such creations must be kept under a close and mindful eye. It made for the perfect tool to be perverted into something resembling a weapon, and so it was, thanks to that ignoble bastard Murphy. 

She nodded, “That’s more or less what happened. Somehow… the touchstone acquired a corruptive influence that would ‘speak’ to a user through bodily contact, promising the fulfillment of their deepest and often darkest desires. With the massive quantity of power that was infused into it after our many experimenting sessions, it would certainly appear to the average person that it could keep that promise” 

All the more reason to lock it away and toss out the key in my honest opinion. My thoughts re-winded back to the time when it ‘spoke’ to me, tempting me with assurances of a gateway home. Whatever abhorrent spirit was inside of that rock, it was dangerously percipient of my innermost wishes, but it made a dreadful miscalculation when it presumed I was as gullible as the next moron to pick it up.

Her expression hardened, “When Starswirl discerned that his invention became tainted by evil, he vowed to destroy it. But before he could commit to this, someone broke into his laboratory overnight, disarmed his numerous wards and alarm spells, and made off with the invention in question. We awoke the next morning to find the touchstone and multiple mages who assisted with his research missing. The culprits also took measures to meticulously dust their physical and magical footprints from all of the specific spells that Starswirl innovated in the field of tracking”

Celestia’s countenance contorted at something that continued to affect her even to this day, “It was one of the few times I’ve ever heard him utter curses so foul that the very atmosphere in the room blackened. Starswirl was not a man that you wanted to see angry, even if you were not on the receiving end of his wrath” She recounted in hushed tones. The reverential way she spoke of Starswirl reminded me heavily of the way Twilight doted on Celestia. The irony of this was not lost on me.

This was quite a bit to process over a spot of tea, “Huh. Well now we know its story up to this point. So how long did it take for you to reach your unsullied prime?” I asked, wanting to know just what awaited me in the progression of my powers.

She angled her head upward as she sifted through more memories, “We reached the peak of our magical might after a decade or so… albeit truly understanding our abilities took another century of learning” She giggled mellifluously, “You should have seen the time Luna first discovered that she could alter her form into a shadowy mist. It took me hours to get her to calm down enough to concentrate on transforming back. I still rib her about it every now and again”

“That’s funny, she eagerly told me about the episode where she tampered with the palace’s cake recipes so the bakers would only use a quarter of the sugar specified as retaliation for something like that” I chuckled softly as I recalled more of the amusing tale, “She wished that today’s flash photography was invented back then so she could show everyone what the look on your face was after taking the opening bite of dessert”

She emitted an exaggerated ‘gacking’ noise, “I was only able to see the humor in it after removing her bed slats and replacing the mattress with her least favorite flavor of gelatin” She smiled dryly at me, “Be glad that you no longer live at the palace, Zenith. My sister and I are infamous amongst the staff for having petty prank wars against each other at a moment’s notice. Had you remained any further… you may have found yourself swept up in our antics”

I had no idea what she was saying, since I almost was (my primary target would have been Ol’ Blue though). Living at Concordia Castle was anything but dull, if its most important occupants were anything to go by.

I grinned rakishly, “You’ll find that I’m game, Dash can attest to that” I retorted in good humor, before shaking my head, “You know… Discord didn’t believe me when I revealed to him that you weren’t as boring as he pegged you for”

She gave me a funny look, “That’s because he doesn’t care if his version of ‘fun’ typically has innocent bystanders getting caught in the crossfire and mine doesn’t. Collateral damage is something I’m painstakingly teaching him is undesirable” She sighed and placed a hand against her head, “It has been… slow going, to say the least” She admitted, bemoaning the mountainous challenge that re-acculturating Discord presented.

“Nothing worth doing has ever proved to always be easy, has it?” I recited like a dictionary full of truisms.

“No, it hasn’t” She tiredly agreed, before returning to the original subject.

“While I’d prefer that you not have to endanger yourself more than what will unfortunately be necessary. Your actions tonight have never the less prevented much potential suffering, Zenith. You really do have a mediating touch of fate about you” She remarked in subtle tones of awe.

I wasn’t having any of it, “I don’t like any implications that fate itself is guiding my every move. What happened tonight was just the product of auspicious timing, nothing more and nothing less” I said, irked that Zecora and now the Princess had made the same conclusion. Though I would concede that the chances of that encounter in the Neverfree being merely a coincidence were pretty slim.

She was undeterred by my lack of faith, “Whether you believe it or not makes little difference in the end, Zenith. You have been enabled to effect great change both directly and indirectly. I have a strong feeling that it will be unlike anything this world has ever seen before, if the knowledge you disclosed to me on that balcony was any indication”

‘Be clever and full of tricks, and your people shall never perish’ The woman in front of me probably knew this axiom all too well.

That raises another important point, “Speaking of which, have you finally heard back from the heads of manufacturing?”

“I have received formal missives from them, yes” She confirmed as she filled her teacup for a third time.

I was getting fidgety as she kept me in the dark, “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense! What did they have to say?” I eventually cried out.

She blew gently on the liquid before sipping it, casually trolling me by exploiting my impatience. She relented once I stole the kettle for refills out from under her, an action meted out as a punitive measure, “They were… intrigued by the designs I apprised them about, but were unwilling to finance the replication of them out of their own pockets until each design proves to be as miraculous as your schematics suggested. In other words, they want a hands on demonstration before giving their full support… ideally at the upcoming Iron Innovator’s Fair to be hosted in the city of Steelhatten early in the New Year”

“You didn’t send them copies of the schematics themselves?” I probed, not really surprised by this.

Celestia quickly interpreted the underlying question, “Please understand Zenith, that this is not something I want to distribute with the same haste and transparency as the self contained ink pen. There is too large a risk that unwarranted eyes may uncover it and use it against us. By playing to the manufacturers’ dubiety regarding our inventiveness, we can keep these developments in house. Once we earn their metaphorical seal of approval, we can use their lack of faith as a bargaining chip for utilization of their funding and most secure factories to promote the whole of your ideas in earnest and in secret. The only thing the manufacturers would expect in return would be the rights to the fully fledged blueprints after we’ve… ironed out the kinks, so to speak” Her knowing smile told me that she intended to hold off on such a thing for a long time to come.

This still made my shoulders sag in undisguised dismay. The kingdom needed all of those designs as soon as possible if it was to minimize the hazards of the unknown dangers that it faced. This would constitute a delay that could prove disastrous. But I could begrudgingly yield to the logic beneath the Princess’s thinking. I never expected Operation Modernize Arcania to go over unobstructed in its implementation, after all.

I bowed my head in acceptance of this, “A most wise decision, Celestia. It would certainly become most detrimental if the enemies of Harmony were to even make crude simulacrums of what I transcribed” One thing eluded me though, “Where does that leave us as far as independently assembling prototypes to showcase at this Iron Innovator’s Fair goes?”

She exhaled a tense breath, “I can only divert so many funds from the Royal Treasury before the nobility takes notice and raises a fuss, which will then lead to investigations that would render our efforts to maintain secrecy in vain. All other currency must be reserved for the unthinkable occurrence of war. Mobilization and deployment of soldiers along with their equipment is not an inexpensive venture, as you might well know” She said, unaware of my current frown. 

I was unsure whether or not I should have resented that opinion, just because I knew more about the devastation of armed conflict than the overwhelming majority of her subjects didn’t make me some friendly war-lording consultant.

She continued unabated by the state of brooding she inflicted me with, “Although with Discord’s assistance we should be able to scrounge up enough coin to sponsor a minimum of three projects, give or take one or two depending on their viability, complexity, and ease of material acquisition… yes, I would surmise that we could actively pursue roughly three plans in totality”

“And what if I were to inform you that this Azure character did us the courtesy of clearing out the old mines of the Diamond Dog gang for us?” I added, hoping it would make a difference. I’d only heard about them not three hours ago, and was disturbingly indifferent to hearing of their demise, but it was unlikely that they would be sorely missed.

She considered this with identical insouciance, “H’mmm… the local mines never were completely prospected before that dangerous, ragtag group of Raven Rock escapees ousted the previous owners. If the Crown were to covertly begin adding its natural resources to its own, I’d say that we could finance a solid three projects, all difficulties therein notwithstanding” A guarantee was good. I’d have to make sure that those three choices counted then.

“Very well then, which plans sound appealing to you?” I wanted her opinion first. I did this for politeness sake, but mostly to gauge her stance on what she thought would be best suited to defend her kingdom.

“Personally? If I had my way, we wouldn’t need to reconstruct any of these horrid inventions of war. But as I’ve stated before, my subject’s safety takes priority over my own misgivings. As the introducer of these things it is your choice, Zenith” She deferred to my untested judgment, placing an exorbitant and unspoken amount of trust in me that both raised my hackles and warmed my heart.

I brainstormed for a minute, weighing the pros and cons of sundry schematics and concepts too innumerable to count. Unable to decide right way, I enunciated my uncertainty, “This is something that I’d like to sleep on before finalizing my selections. I can ask Spike to send whatever I do decide to lay the groundwork for your way” I said, putting it on the back burner. The potential fate of Arcania isn’t a topic that I’d like to determine over the course of late evening tea.

Celestia understood my hesitance, “This is fine, Zenith. I realize that this requires a certain interval of time used for careful deliberation. Some of your transcribed documents might have more of an impact on the world stage, but others may be more convenient for unveiling on the show stage in order to impress our prospective backers”

‘Who does she take me for? Steve Jobs? Showmanship isn’t a must for me’ Still… if I wanted to see this through, I’d have to play ball.

I scoffed, fed up with the whole approach we were taking before we even took it, “Phaf! If the schematics are followed faithfully, then all this chicanery won’t be necessary to get the rest of those industrial bigwigs to hop on the bandwagon”

“Chicanery isn’t the word I’d use to describe it. It’s closer to masked intra-national subterfuge” She automatically corrected like a grammar Gestapo.

“I’m well aware of that” I deadpanned, my sarcasm soaring clear over her head.

She made a slight ‘oh’ motion with her lips, “As I’ve said before, your dry wit is a challenge to decipher. It makes me wonder how those nearest to you succeed in correctly interpreting the real meaning behind your words” She voiced her thoughts.

“They often don’t” I grumbled under my breath, eliciting a smile from my wavy haired company.

“There is additional tentatively beneficial news that you should hear before you meditate further on this” She somewhat over-elaborated after a lull.

“Oh?”

“The Hammer Forge family found your ideas for replacing the bulk of their smoothbore muzzle loading cannons with the oppositely designed rifled breech loaders to be… an objection of a sort to their principles on weapons manufacturing. To say nothing of the ammunition overhaul required for this new breed of cannon”

“And what is this Hammer Forge family known for, exactly?” I asked, wanting to potentially reeducate the smoothbore heathens on what makes for superb artillery.

Celestia looked delighted at yet another chance to lord her overarching knowledge of her country over me, “They’re the premier arms makers of Stratopolis, owning several foundries there with which they use to supply the main body of the airship fleet, which itself is moored in the harbor district, with essential materiel. True to their Valkryian heritage, they’re vaingloriously prideful and set in their ways. But not so stubborn as to spurn anything remotely promising that they could use to advance their position in the overall business hierarchy” She filled me in thoroughly.

“So what? Do they also want a demonstration before unfolding their wallets?” I held a hand palms upward in a gesture of unsurprised blasé. Come one, come all, they too would understand that they’ve been living in the early modern period, arms technology wise.

“Not quite…” Her lips pursed together, “They’ve offered up a sizable sum of bits to the originator, or ‘fabled would be Hephaestus’ to purchase the rights to this idea and all the transcripts thereof, to do with as they see fit. If not, then they’ll have no interest in seeing it come to fruition via their own support”

“Hephaestus?” I whispered to myself with confusion. More Greek?

Celestia heard me and lectured anyway, “Hephaestus Hammer Forge was the man who propelled his family name to recognition, back when Stratopolis was just a miniscule collection of separate cloud towns and settlements. His skills in metallurgy and forging were legendary, and many of his revolutionary innovations still found in Arcania’s armed forces can trace their roots back to his workshop in the center of what is now the Olympus district. His descendants all aspire to live up to his legacy, which at times seemed bigger than the real life Hephaestus” 

I balked at this sudden flow of information. I didn’t comprehend that there was such ample familial history in this country that I’ve been missing out on.

“Did you know this Hephaestus in person? He must have be a rather charismatic fellow to have left behind so much”

“Of course!” She declared, “I commissioned a great many things from him back when our first palace’s foundations were in the slow process of being laid. He was the one who proposed a uniformed armor set for the Royal Guard, one that would all the same prove distinctive between clan types when it mattered”

“Right, were the emblems on their cape clasps his idea?” I hazarded a guess, parsing through what I did know. Their armor didn’t scramble or otherwise change their vocal signatures, so there couldn’t be any kind of enchantments there.

She shook her head, “Actually that was Luna’s. I adapted that to my branch of the guard after I saw how well it worked for my sister’s Night Watch. His brainchild was introducing light runes into each helmet that would identify a soldier’s rank, clan division, and identity number” 

So it’s runes then. I’ve yet to notice such a thing for myself, but then again I didn’t spend long enough to take their helmets into account.

I stifled another chortle at Luna’s personal name for her guard, habitually comparing it with a similarly named organization, ‘I hope that their oaths weren’t as binding as the one I’m thinking of! Arcania is short enough on eligible men as it is’

I nodded, “I see. So what would you recommend that I do with their offer?”

“Sell to them” She insouciantly suggested with a light shrug.

I blinked. I wasn’t expecting this, “Wha-!? But didn’t you say that you wanted to keep all of this in house?” I was reasonably perplexed by her ambivalence on this matter.

She waved a hand dismissively, “I know the hiring standards of the Hammer Forges. They accept only the best and most loyal workers, which they keep on for life. They’re a relatively smaller company in comparison to the giants in Las Valkyras and Steelhatten, but you’ll find no better craftsmen and women. In fact, the wedding fiasco we had in Concordia not so long ago actually frightened the nobility of Stratopolis more than the nobles who experienced it firsthand. They’ve set up an entire system of security measures citywide that makes it incredibly difficult for their ranks to be infiltrated. They also make creative use of electrostatic shock” I did my best to appear curious so she would elaborate some more, “Fascinatingly enough, a changeling’s disguise won’t hold up to a sustained barrage of non lethal levels of electricity without wavering and subsequently failing”

‘That sounds moderately useful’ I filed that invaluable piece of knowledge away where I could draw upon it later.

I furrowed my brow at this turnabout, but accepted her judgment, “Okay… and how much did they offer to buy the schematics for? Even with the muscle memory spell guiding my hand eye coordination, copying the designs for a hydro-pneumatic recoil absorber and then altering them so they could be built into the wooden gun carriage of those found on a warship and for a horse drawn one in the field was equally tedious and tortuous for me” I didn’t want to express my full feelings on just how difficult it was, otherwise I’d have to drop a few choice expletives here and there, and that’s just bad form. Still, it’s a system miles better than simply fixing arresting ropes around a cascabel to inhibit recoil that way.

You wouldn’t believe how many moving parts are involved in a recoil dampening system. I’m fairly certain that they’ll have to ‘invent’ many of the parts necessary to recreate such a mechanism. I was unsure that many guns would be outfitted with it even if they do mass produce the design, but the ones that do will be able to fire rapidly without losing as much accuracy. I’d feel sorry for Arcania’s enemies if they weren’t doubtlessly despicable enough to deserve it.

“They’ll send someone forthwith and utilize their engineering experience to evaluate and appraise the designs, face to face. The initial estimates they gave me if your designs could legitimately function are somewhere in the range of over twenty thousand bits”

I whistled to nobody in particular, “That’s a hefty chunk of change. So this would be a weapon’s contract of sorts?”

“Of sorts” She agreed, “But they would be signing it with me. You’d only be receiving remuneration for the delivery of your facsimiles, as I know how much you value your privacy” She said, evoking a sense of appreciation from me.

This was an interesting, though not wholly undesirable, twist of plans. I was suddenly grateful that I spent extra time and effort fastidiously filling in details regarding everything related to the big guns the kingdom would need to defend itself. It was a shoo-in for purchasing by this manufacturer, if they knew their stuff and could see the genius woven into every line (not mine, of course). With this Hammer Forge family modernizing the nation’s field artillery ahead of time, Arcania would have a huge advantage starting off in any conflict. That is… if it should it be forced into open hostilities, but I’m soundly confident that the larger number of world rending prophecies involved a great conflict of some kind.

‘Never thought I might make a profit off of someone else’s hard work’ I opined to myself. But hey, if people back home could do it legally, then why not me? It’s probably to my benefit that copyright laws aren’t observed here, in addition.

“And don’t you forget it” I returned good naturedly, “Permit them a peek at the plans then” I consented to the arrangement, “Yet before I forget, just how many specialized and adept engineers will you have on hand to be working on our covert projects?”

“Not as many as I’d like” She said with a tiny frown, “Why? Do you know someone trusted who might fit the bill? We’ll need all the assistance we can get if we’re to get these undertakings up and running”

“As I matter of fact I do. His name is Gizmo. He has a Mana mark of a robot on his shoulders. Since he’s worked with automatons before, anything with moving parts involved ought to be a cinch for him. He should prove to be a boon for us” Yes, he would do nicely. Better than pawning off items of limited use, that’s for sure.

She sent me an incredulous half lidded stare, “I’ll need more than just his name and mark, Zenith”

I grumbled unintelligibly, my knack for being asocial and not asking for more personal information impeding me at inopportune times, “Just search the town registry for his name and address. If for some reason it isn’t listed, I know the name of his cousin, Flip Switch. Once you do find him, coercing him into cooperating with us will be simple, as he owes me a favor. Not that it should take much to convince him after you mention what he owes me. I have a feeling he’ll take to what we aspire to do like a fish to water” Plus the palace staff gets a killer dental plan.

One might think that drafting someone into working on comparatively futuristic designs in utmost secrecy with only a favor might be overeager of me, but I’m not the one who neglected to specify the limits of said favor… and the standard Arcanian’s sense of obligation to meaning what they say.

“How shrewd of you” She drily observed, likely coming to the same illation, “Does this settle our private talk? I imagine that Twilight is just about running herself ragged with worry at this very moment” She made to call for her when I stopped her with a halting gesticulation.

“There is something else I’d like to go over, actually. It concerns the upcoming athletic event that will be held in the Krystal Kingdom?”

“You wish to represent Magiville by taking the stage at the commencement ceremony?” She correctly inferred. 

“Uhh, yes. How’d you know?” I replied, flabbergasted at her near clairvoyant insight.

‘Is Celestia psychic? How dare she read my mind like that!’ I indignantly expostulated, taking umbrage to the sanctity of my thoughts being invaded.

I was about to initiate mental static when she spoke, “Don’t look so shocked. I overheard that Rainbow Dash was pressuring you to provide additional representation for Magiville in the games. And based on the avid reviews regarding your demonstration from just before I arrived, most of the denizens that were in attendance are in eager support of such a notion. But what made you agree to commit to it?” 

Whenever the Princess wants to know something about me, I can’t help but feel as if she’s attempting to get to the quintessence of who I am. She probably regarded the ‘tours’ of my psyche that I gave her as just that, tours. Enough to verify me as being worthy of her trust, and to establish a hazy idea of the world I came from. Albeit I was under the impression that she regularly made to understand the character of other people the old fashion way.

I asked my own question first, “You overheard the details of our tiny dispute over the din and babel of more than thirty conversations?” And that was a conservative estimate, what with how popular the bake sale was. 

A thin smile graced her lips, “It’s a skill that you pick up with repetition, and I’ve had had to sift through countless colloquies and rooms filled with chattering people in order to listen in on information that I deem pertinent” 

Whenever Celestia reminds me that she’s lived long enough to develop these skills and succeeding habits using those skills, it always puts me ill at ease.

My contorted scowl reflected this, “I’m going to overlook the fact that your reign has taught you how to eavesdrop so efficiently. To answer your earlier inquiry, I’m mostly interested in seeing if having Royal connections are all it's cracked up to be" It’s not like my identity is going to become compromised if I participate, considering how incognizant people have been reacting when they fail to perceive that I’m hiding a lot more than I let on. 

She looked somewhat entertained by the bluntness of my response, “I’ll put in a good word for you. Though there might be another catch involved” She stipulated with that damnable knowing smirk that I’ll always have divided opinions about.

It wasn’t a done deal, but I absently resolved to make use of that fully stocked music room I had back at my house sometime, so I could brush up on my virtuosity. It mainly hinged on whether or not I would be taking part in any musical performances down the road, but I could always use an excuse to sharpen my hobby oriented skills. 

“What kind of catch?” I regarded her with minor skepticism.

“I want you to also compete in the combative duelist’s portion of the athletic games, beyond just performing in the commencement ceremony”

“Okay…?” I accepted without much hesitation. It was better than just observing from the venue’s sidelines I guess.

Celestia had the good grace to at least look the tiniest bit sheepish, “I may… have made a friendly wager with Cadence riding on a champion of my choosing being able to best her husband and the former Captain of my Royal Guard, Prince Shining Armor. He is to be the last opponent the finalists face” She disclosed, her plural choice of wording piquing my curiosity.

I raised an eyebrow, “Has Luna also staked a claim in this little wager of yours?”

“Luna abstained from choosing a champion of her own, but she did envy me choosing you before she could” She noted with faint mirth tweaking her voice.

“I’m… flattered by you and your sister’s faith in me. What are to be the winnings of this wager?” Was all I could manage to say, suffering from an onset of the warm fuzzies.

“That was something we agreed to keep between us, I’m afraid” Celestia said in a tone that brooked no contention.

‘Fine, keep your secrets’ I shall most definitely be keeping mine.

“How will this tourney of clashing blades work?” I asked in follow up, slightly irritated at having my inquisitive request shot down.

“Each round is single combat with an opponent initially chosen at random. The victor will proceed to the following branch of the championship and face a randomized winner from a prior match. A wide array of weapons are provided and magically blunted to significantly reduce the chances of grave injuries from occurring. It varies between the types of weapons used in a match and the propinquity of a hit to vital regions, but an average of three clean strikes are required to win the round and advance”

‘So I won’t be able to bring Dichotomy to bear. That’s fine by me. I’ll just have to challenge myself to get acquainted with plain swords’ But what about my magic or other capabilities?

Celestia anticipated my next question, “All Mages whose arcane proficiency in combat exceed the standards of fairness will be hindered with a magic retardant spell field. Likewise, there will be a strict flight ceiling for Valkyrians and body weights adjusted to match the individual strength of an Agrarian participant”

Those handicaps actually sounded appropriately equalizing.

“Good, overpowered abilities need to be Nerfed sometimes. For the sake of sportsmanship, at the very least” I would know. I use them all the time in lieu of taking the hard route, force of habit, really.

Celestia paid no mind to my foreign phrasing, “I’m glad you agree, since you’ll have to be inhibited by all three. I trust that you’ll also be properly prepared for when you take the stage? The Star Seekers are a skilled group, but I wouldn’t want to see impromptu improvising on the go with their unplanned extra member”

Star Seekers eh? I’ve heard less creative names for bands. I’ve also heard more awesome and succinct names, but that’s beside the point.

I fanned the air in a frivolous gesture, “I’ll look up the tablature and appropriate musical notation and have it delivered to you along with my choices for what projects to actualize later” 

‘Perhaps I best do that in person, that way I could use the palace’s training facilities to up my game with regular weapons. It would equally be the perfect excuse to see Octavia again’ I fondly thought of the elegant musician, who was part of the reason why I decided that I’d take to the stage at the games.

“Very well. But be wary, even with his magical ability stunted, Shining Armor will be no slouch in the ring of honor. I didn’t instate him to lead my Royal Guard simply because he was my personal student’s older brother” She warned me. Not that I was going to foolishly underestimate him to begin with, not before I see what he can do.

“I hold no reservations that Twilight’s B.B.B.F.F will be anything less than a serious P.I.T.A to cross blades with” I said with a sardonically dry inflection.

Now it was Celestia’s turn to stare at me with well masked dubiety, “And she’s shared her affectionate acronym for her elder sibling with you?”

My head lazily swayed from side to side, “Not at all. Need I remind you, that while she’s seen the contents of my heart… I’ve seen the contents of her head. I dare say that I know Twilight just as well (‘If not better than’) as you, Celestia”

‘Enough to know that she’s been just within eavesdropping range for the majority of this discussion, ready to spring back to shelving activities at the first sign of movement’ I’d let this one go, but if Twilight begins making disconcerting inquiries then I’ll have to give her the silent treatment.

“That’s hardly an excuse to carry on stonewalling her the way she’s briefed me about in your absence. You really must try to reciprocate my student’s gesture to include you as one of her closest friends” Celestia criticized disapprovingly. It would appear that rebuffing the egghead pisses off mother hen.

Now that’s just unfair. Is she still going on about all this jazz? Where’s my credit for compromising? For going above and beyond my comfort zone and meeting them halfway?

I held aloft a resentful index finger, “Hey, I lifted the block on her memories and apologized to her afterwards didn’t I? And I did that without having you nearby for encouragement” I defended myself with a vehement jab in her direction. I could have been a lot colder to her than I had been. That’s a guarantee when it comes to me.

She looked unconvinced by this, “And are you going to put more of an effort into giving her a chance? You’ve gotten on well with all the other Elements, as I’ve been informed. But Twilight has told me that she feels… disparaged that you haven’t extended her the same courtesy yet”

I sighed and pinched at the bridge of my nose, “All things in due time, your Highness. I’ve only just forgiven her for prying open doors that were better off remaining shut”

She reluctantly tolerated my mildly standoffish stance towards her prodigious padawan, “As long as you two share a harmonious connection to one another before the hour grows late” She mused, mostly to herself.

The enigmatic way she said that and the savvy gleam in her eye tugged at something in the back of my mind, screaming to me that I should to read between the lines. Silence reigned between us for a full minute, before my voice, ringing like the cracking of thunder, cut into it.

“What is your real reason for sending me to interact with the Elements?” It was an elementary question, with complex implications.

There was a flash of something like worry in her eyes, before it was snuffed with a speed that thousands years worth of experience stifling undue emotions afforded, “Whatever do you mean, Zenith? There were none better that I trusted could educate you on our ways of Harmonious interrelation” She laced her words with authentic sincerity, but I wasn’t buying the whole story for a second.

“Half truths do not live up to the Arcanian virtue of Honesty, Celestia” I chided, calling her out on her ruse, “You have ulterior motives for pairing me with the Elements, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question, nor was it an accusation. It was a simple statement.

She said nothing. Her facial expression was static enough to make a statue look animate in comparison. While it was didactic enough to confirm my suspicions, I would not settle for mere tacit meaning. I’d have to lay it on thicker if I was to get her to crack.

I leveled with her, “How can you expect me to ascend to the role of an Arcanian Prince if I can’t trust my fellow Sovereigns not to hide things from me? You trust me… don’t you, Princess?” I did a convincing job sounding betrayed by the idea that she might think of me as nothing more than a piece on the chessboard.

“Of course I do, Zenith!” She exclaimed in acute exasperation, before speaking softly, “But I need you to understand that I can’t always be an open book, not with my fellow rulers… not even with my own sister” That last bit was so low in volume that it was difficult to hear even with Valkyrian senses. 

I didn’t dare interrupt, lest I risk provoking her to anger.

“The years after I was forced to banish Luna to the moon were the hardest of my life, Zenith. For the longest time I was unable to face my subjects alone, not without my beloved sister at my side. And so for the better part of two decades, I sealed myself away in the recently constructed castle in Concordia, preoccupying myself with ruling the nation from afar via my forbearing proxies. If that weren’t enough, even my sleep was plagued with anguish. The Elements may have stymied the better part of the Night Terror’s power before going inert, but the twisted perversion of my sister was still capable enough to specifically torment my dreams… forcing me to relive that terrible memory every night that I took hold of her moon until I figured out a way to automatically ward my mind against her when I slept” 

She wiped her eyes, which were shimmering with unshed tears, “I never thought I’d be able to feel complete ever again… but when I finally emerged from my self induced exile, expecting a distant response from my subjects for my aloofness, they surprised me. The multitudes all flocked to my day court, but not to give voice to their usual concerns or to rail against my prolonged absence… ” She bared her soul to me, revealing deep secrets that I don’t believe she confided in with many, if any, others. I supposed to myself that I should deem this as a major display of trust. 

“…instead they showed me profound kindness, telling me that they kept me in their prayers for the entire duration that I secluded myself. I was overwhelmed by their selfless wishes and reassurances, even sympathy and regret for the loss of my sister and coregent of the firmament. Whereas I justly deserved each and every one of my subject’s ire for abandoning them for nearly a generation, I received only endearing warmth” She tittered in heartfelt reminisce, “To think that it was the citizenry’s love for their Princess that finally accomplished what the Night Terror could not and brought me to my knees” She explained to me, her facial features bordering somewhere between happiness and self realized irony. I couldn’t deny that it did indeed have a certain poetic beauty about it.

Meanwhile, I was at an impasse of sorts. Celestia was barely holding anything back from me now that the metaphorical floodgates came crashing down and the truth came flooding in. Was it merely another ploy to get herself in my good graces? Or was she being genuine with her actions?

‘Dammit Celestia! You make it so problematic for me to suspect you of duplicity!’ My cynical and deadlocked mindset wanted to mire her image with a warning sense of distrust, but there was an equally potent part of me that insisted that I should give her the benefit of the doubt.

“When I couldn’t find it in myself to have faith in my calling anymore, they brought me out of my despair and instilled hope in me. I fondly remember one of them, a young girl no less, bringing the many prophecies divined by the Sisters of Fate to my attention. One line in particular…”

“And the Stars shall aid in her escape” I parroted Luna’s own words from when I first met her.

Celestia’s gaze cast itself downward before reconnecting with mine, “There were those who were fearful of that prognostication, and advised that I prepare for the worst. But for me it represented the opportunity to purify my sister of the envy and hatred that had clawed its way into her core and refused to let go”

“Before her legend morphed into the stuff of nightmares for centuries to come. My sister gradually became more and more detached from the world. She would seal herself in her room with increasing frequency and read into restricted things that I surmised were partially responsible for poisoning her mind against me. She established contact with something that warped her into believing that her own sister was her mortal enemy, and that the only way for her night to reign supreme was to remove her own flesh and blood from the equation”

I knew nothing of this unprecedented revelation. Is that what has her so worried about me?

“You didn’t know what it was that she was reading? It might have had a direct influence on her”

She shook her head sadly, “Whatever miasmic material she had in her quarters was eradicated along with the majority of our Neverfree castle when she transformed with violent results. If you were under the impression that my sister was corrupted contrary to her will, then you are sorely mistaken. She accepted evil into her heart of her own accord” 

Even when her own family betrayed her, Celestia could only speak about the dreadful incident with remorse, excluding all resentful anger from her tone, even though it would have been a justifiable reaction. She truly loved her sister, and was devastated by this horrendous turn of events. Was it any wonder why I admired the Princess of the Sun? Her righteous spirit and indefatigable belief in the goodness within others was an inspiration to witness.

“If you feel as if that might happen to me, then you’ve got another thing coming, Celestia. I’m not so hermetic or averse to companionship in my life that I declare war on it. I simply have different ideas on what I consider to be a legitimized friendship, and as such it takes longer for me to recognize those connections. Yet once they are, those bonds are forged with a strength rivaling the sturdiest of metals. I’ll fully acknowledge that I like being alone… but I also enjoy being surrounded by people that I care about, and who also care about me” I just do a terrible job of showing it, mostly.

“And what caused this reserved behavior of yours that you’ve seen fit to shield yourself with?” Her perception was astute, I’ll admit, but it couldn’t pinpoint the cause of the whole motive for doing so.

“Some of it’s natural, I’ll have you know” I said with a blank expression, defending my introversion ardently, “But I guess I’m additionally just… saddled with a lot of baggage related to people from home” I looked away from her, staring hard at one of the living walls of the treebrary.

Celestia saw that this wasn’t something I liked to talk about and refrained from pursuing it further, “Do you miss them?” She abruptly asked out of the blue.

“Who?” I automatically responded, refocusing on her.

She tilted her neck at me, “Leave the who’ing to Twilight’s owl. You know of whom I speak”

“Does one ask a parched man if he wants a nice, cool glass of water?” I retorted, not appreciating having been reminded of my family.

“She does if one shows up in her backyard” Celestia calmly riposted, turning my defensive words against me with her sharp wit.

I leaned across the table and peered into her unwavering light purple eyes, “With. Every. Single. Iota. Of. My. Being” I punctuated each word, “I was my parent’s only child, Celestia. Disregarding my opinion on the matter, how do you think they feel? One day I was there, the next I wasn’t. They have no body, no clues, and no inkling whatsoever as to what became of me. Their hair has probably gone white with grief by now!” I settled back into my seat and sighed with intense frustration while holding a hand to my face. This was something I was extremely bitter about.

I felt supple fingers wrap themselves around my shoulder and a tender voice speak into my ear, “You have my deepest condolences for what happened to you, Zenith” She said comfortingly. I removed my hand from my eyes and turned my head to see a sympathetic Celestia crouched low by my side. 

“I don’t know if I’d be able to go on without my sister in my life, and you don’t even have a sibling to lean on when the hand that life deals you is grueling. But you are strong, and I have a hunch that you’ve inherited that trait from one, if not both, of your parents. They’ll pull through and endure… and so will you” She smiled at me, and I could feel the inner turmoil fade away from my soul with every second that I fixed my vision on those immaculate orbs. Not that what she told me wasn’t anything I hadn’t already gathered myself, but there was something inspiritingly persuasive about hearing it from someone else.

“Thank you, Celestia. That means a lot coming from you” I gave her a bona fide smile in return, before it turned mischievous, “You still haven’t answered my earlier question about your other motive for sending me here though” 

Celestia’s dimples filled themselves in at light speed, “Damn…” She muttered an expletive, “A diversion of that magnitude usually works with most people” She almost sounded secretly pleased that she’d been caught.

I maintained my grin, “I am not most people, Celestia. You ought to know that by now. I am, however, grateful for your support” I spoke with gratitude. My mother would often do the same thing to me, and she succeeded more than the Princess ever would.

‘The ball is in my court, Princess. Fess up’ 

“Fair enough” She conceded with a shrug, “The other reason I want you to build a good rapport with the Elements is because I have a sinking premonition that the fate of the world will depend on it” 

‘Oh, that might be a good reason’ A woman’s intuition is mysterious, but rarely wrong. I’ll err on the side of caution and redouble my efforts in this friendship business.

She gently poked me in the chest, “Think about that the next time you feel like snubbing poor Twilight”

“Fineeeee” I dramatically whined, “But she’s got a lot to make up for, never the less”

“How about a sleepover in the library next Sunday? That way all of the girls can reinforce our connection with you” A voice, one that didn’t belong to the woman adjacent to me, said aloud from the archway. I swiveled in place to see Twilight standing by the passage entrance. 

She bowed her head penitently to the Princess, “I apologize for my unsanctioned overhearing of parts of your private conversation with Zenith, your Highness, but I couldn’t help but suggest something to proactively restore some semblance of friendship with him” She rubbed at one of her arms nervously, “I’ve been hoping for a moment to right things between us, and this felt like the most opportune time”

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear” I mumbled to myself too low for anyone but Celestia to hear (who expectedly frowned at my remark), “That proposal is agreeable, Twilight. In fact, I’ll be the one to provide the entertainment” I capitalized on this welcome idea. It’s been far too long since I last shared a good movie with someone using my laptop’s extensive selection. Twi’s not the only one who had been biding their time for an opportunity like this.

She clapped her hands together, “I’ve only had gynocentric slumber parties before! This will be the perfect occasion for me to study the effects of sociocultural dynamics when a single male shares sleeping space with several unwed females!”

The blood drained from my face, ‘Oh God, she’s going to turn it into a science experiment’ 

“That doesn’t sound empirically feasible, bookworm” I drily commented, with the aim of suppressing her inner scientist.

“Nonsense!” She waved a hand, undeterred, “I’ve already got a layout for who will be in the control group for spin the bottle!” She spouted excitedly.

I scoffed loudly at this, “Screw your girly sleepover activities! We’re going to be having a proper movie night! No written observations, no inferences, and no studies of any kind” I dictated. Her methodical quirks were going to ruin the fun, which I would not abide by.

She didn’t like her chance to study something unique like this being shot down so easily, but gave my counteroffer some thought, “Well… I do have a projector stashed away somewhere in the basement. Are you going to be supplying the film reels?”

I replied in the negative, “There’s no need to pull such a clunky thing out. I’ve got a surprise for everyone that should really capture your attention come this Sunday”

“Right… surprise” She refused to meet my eyes, engendering mine to narrow in scrutiny. How very suspicious.

She shifted focus to her teacher, “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon, Princess? Now that Zenith and I have worked out the worst of our issues, there doesn’t seem to be much anchoring you here”

“So eager to be rid of me, Twilight?” Celestia said, relishing the harmless humor in causing her student to squirm.

“T-that’s not what I meant!” She stuttered in dismay.

“Relax, my dearest student” The Princess calmed her with a mollifying vocal resonance, “The Night’s supervision falls under my sister’s dominion. I am free to spend my time during the hours of moonlight however I see fit. Here is as good a place as any to ‘bed down’ until I am required again”

Twilight repetitively tilted her head downward, “My library and all of its substantial resources are yours to command, Princess Celestia” I heard Celestia smother back a worn out sigh. She could only take so much of being Princess’ed as I could of being sir’d.

“Do those resources happen to include a set of playing cards? I have an idea for what we could do to pass the hours until it’s time for us to go” I proffered.

Celestia eyed me strangely, “Would you perhaps teach us one of your homeland’s custom tailored games? Luna found the casinos that she saw in your dreams as some of the most lavish since her visit to Las Valkyras”

“I would be delighted to” I acquiesced. I was not surprised that Luna had been sharing our dreamland adventures with her sister.

“Uhh… I think Spike keeps a deck somewhere, I’ll go ask if we can borrow his before his bedtime” Twilight took a brief leave of us to go retrieve said deck.

I waited for her footfalls to crest the top of the stairs before making my solicitation, “Now that I know she’s out of hearing range, I’d like to ask you for some sensitive information which she won’t be privy to”

I received a critical look from the monarch, either for my blunt wariness of the bookworm’s nosiness or the nature of my request I couldn’t tell, “Such as?”

I wasn’t going to beat around the bush for this one, “Where is Daring Do? She couldn’t guarantee that she’d send me any letters apprising me of her trips into the wild blue yonder, but I’d feel worlds better knowing that she is safe”

“Based on her last report to me a little over a week ago, she was investigating a lead near the borderline of Gryphondria and Cervidia. So I’d safely assume that is where she is for the time being”

“And how often do you hear from her, regarding her status?” I inquired, apprehensive of whatever dangers she might be facing down without me to watch her back.

“Anywhere between a week and well over a month” At my incredulous stare she amended her answer, “It isn’t anything I’d get worked up in a tizzy over, Zenith. She frequently goes dark for extended periods at a time, owing to the furtive nature of her work. Her being unable to send you letters simply means that she has found a lead worth her undivided engrossment”

“May I ask what Daring is to you?” She tossed a question back.

“She is… precious to me beyond measure” I told her, my eyes likely glinting with fond remembrance of the plucky adventuress, "Daring is the first person to have wholly convinced me to abandon my ideas of becoming one with the background. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably be scratching a living somewhere else so I could sightsee the world on my own. Never mind what plans ‘fate’ had in store for me” Either way, I had a gut feeling that I would be getting what I originally wanted regardless.

“I see…” The Princess uttered with uncharacteristic terseness. I was too deep in thought to pay it any mind however.

I scoured my memory banks, “What was it she was searching for again? Some kind of Shards of Sheol?” 

Celestia nodded, “That is what it’s taken to being labeled. Rumors began popping up in the abstruse history scene a while back. An earthquake in the desolate deserts of Aridia shifted the greats dunes there and exposed a Ziggurat older than anything ever studied before. Explorers sent from the grand oasis city of Marabia… found something buried deep inside of its sand blasted depths after a hasty excavation”

“What did they find?” I breathed. Celestia was no Alfred Hitchcock in her presentation, but I was captivated by suspense none the less.

“A jagged fragment of a crystal that was said to have been the length of a long cubit. It was a shadowy object of such foulness that it seemed to devour all the ambient light shone on it. The written report that my staunch agent, our Daring Do, snagged for me concerning its other properties claimed that it filled the air with harsh whispers in a foreign tongue that could not be translated and put everyone who heard it on edge”

“Sounds Evil” I idly remarked, processing the added tidbit involving Daring ‘obtaining’ intelligence for Celestia. And here I only thought that she trespassed in the Sultan’s personal library and departed with a crossbolt to the shoulder blade as a souvenir.

“A grievously accurate description, I fear. Every single person involved in the Sultan’s recovery team who lingered for more than a few hours around the fragment, died a gruesome death within scant days of each other. All of them were frozen in positions of pure terror and pointing at some far off apparition as though it was coming for them” Her voice was quiet and her eyes downcast.

That’s not disturbing or anything.

“What was the cause of their untimely deaths?” I asked after a hesitant lull.

“Outwardly they looked whole and healthy, but autopsies performed on the bodies revealed that their major organs underwent spontaneous failure before putrefying rapidly. Whatever power that was in that crystal spared no expense in tearing them asunder and putting their lives at an abrupt end” She shook her head in disgust, “The earliest chance I could, I pressured the Sultan into isolating it where it could not do any more harm, after his sensible attempts to destroy it proved fruitless”

“And you’ve sent Daring to retrieve such a treacherous thing?” I almost growled, that highly protective part of me I’ve only recently started listening to flaring up.

Celestia was unfazed by the accusation in my tone, “She knew of the hazards before she agreed to pursue this, Zenith. I doubt I could have stopped her from seeking it even if I had issued an order forbidding her from doing so. Her headstrong attitude is what makes her my most tenacious agent overseas. You mustn’t fret over this. Daring is equipped with the tools and experience to favorably deal with whatever she finds. And I shouldn’t have to remind you that we are not the only ones who know about these shards. I will not risk any factions, rogue or official, striving to find and use them for their own gain”

‘Well… if her sizable series of ‘fiction’ novels are any indication, Daring has the credentials to make it out of any dire situation she winds up in. I have the utmost faith in her’ 

“Probably for the best” I begrudgingly concurred, “How do we know for a fact that there are more of these unholy shards lurking throughout the world?”

“We don’t know it as factual, but Hieroglyphs that were still intelligible in the preceding chambers of the structure strongly suggested that the crystal the shards originate from had once been the means of imprisoning a nameless and calamitous malevolence, much like the way you’ve incarcerated Azure Phoenix. It was shown to be subsequently broken up into multiple pieces in order to be hidden by a society composed of many puissant and influential individuals from differing countries and nationalities all working together in tandem. It is reassuring to know that Harmony was just as prevalent then as it is now” She stated with pride.

“I’m back!” Announced Twilight as she swung around the corner, “Sorry for the wait, Spike was a bit reluctant to dig into the contents of his closet for his comic hero themed cards”

“Stop apologizing so frequently, it’s not like we expect perfect punctuality from you every moment of every day” I chided her, which had less of an overall effect than it would have if it were Celestia speaking. Not that unexpected to be honest. I wasn’t the person who was practically a second mother to her.

“Sor-” She promptly caught herself and cleared her throat, “Right. So what game are we learning that wasn’t covered in the ‘Big book of activities for homebodies?’”

‘Twilight would have read something of the like, wouldn’t she?’

“It’s called ‘I doubt it’, though back home we crassly referred to it as ‘Bullshit’. The goal is get rid of the hand you have by ostensibly laying down a card blank side up that follows the correct sequence of cards starting from the ace when its your turn. If another player thinks that the player who just went is bluffing, they call bullshit. The accused player then has to show what card they put down. If they were indeed bluffing, then the player adds the whole pile to their hand. If the accuser calls incorrectly, then they take the pile. The first player to completely discard their hand before anyone else wins the game”

“This game doesn’t seem very honest” Twilight observed with faint unease.

“Well that’s what makes it so fun to play. You have to use your perceptive and mnemonic skills to determine whether or not your fellow player is pulling your leg. The fewer cards you have, the more likely someone will call your bluffs. Likewise, it is easier for a player with more cards to empty their hand without jeopardy. It’s a complex strategy involved for a relatively simple card game. Plus it’s fun to cry out ‘bullshit!’. At least for me anyways” I shrugged nonchalantly.

“I for one find the idea of such an unorthodox game to be oddly charming” Celestia expressed her opinion, “Deal me in”

The second she saw her mentor approve, Twilight hopped aboard, “Okay. Count me in too!”

And so for the remainder of the night, we played several rounds of cards. Twilight took a while to really get the hang of it (she also called us on our bluffs the boring way, using the standard ‘I doubt it’ designation), but was quick on the uptake once she did. Celestia used her day court ‘Princess face’ to her advantage and neither Twilight nor I will able to reliably discern her false facedown cards, so it was a roughly fifty-fifty shot at calling her after her turns. To my unending frustration, both the Princess and the bookworm were able to tell when I didn’t pile on the card I said I did. Moreover, I’m fairly certain that they were using their intimate mentor-student bond with the express purpose of picking on me. Then again, a sporadic, nigh imperceptible glow like that of a dying ember from either of them was a clue in that they weren’t necessarily playing a deceptive game equitably (which I deemed as my own fault. I didn’t explicitly notify them that they couldn’t use magic). 

Still, it was great fun to have the freedom of calling bullshit on the Princess (Twilight winced and sent me a heated glare for every instance that I did) without lasting repercussions. Even more delightful was when Celestia shed her regal decorum and liberally returned the favor while putting her own sophisticated inflection on it. It was an unprecedented move that shocked her student into stunned, gaping silence for a full three minutes and drove me to a small fit of chuckles. She hid it exceptionally well, but it was visible to the more observant that Celestia cherished moments like this. This illation was evidenced by a modest, sincere smile that made its stand on her lips and denied any attempts to dislodge it. 

Twilight also gave off the impression of contentment with her precious Princess nearby. She was stubbornly formal about it, but I was there to offset the bookworm’s stuffiness with my casual disregard for etiquette (which I knew that Celestia found to be a breath of fresh air). None of us were subjected to the influence of drowsiness as the clock ticked on. Celestia was enjoying herself far too much to become susceptible to drowsiness, Twilight was a hardcore veteran of studying who had seen many all nighters, and I persisted on account of being a Nightlark; simple as that.

As with all good times though, it came to a regrettable end. Celestia must have had one hell of a body clock, because she was instinctively able to tell when it was an only a quarter of an hour until sun-up. Twilight rubbed away the exhaustion that was settling into her eyes and wished her teacher a fond farewell, promising to stick to her deadline of various reports. I stood from my seat and saw to her departure in person like a right gentleman.

“The Sun must rise soon, and I must return to the capital not long after. But before I go, how would you like me to put on a little show for you?” She invited me as we stepped outside.

“And if I were to refuse your no doubt generous offer?” I asked for the sake of being contrary.

“Then I would lock you in place and show you anyway” She pseudo jested, knowing that she was more than capable of doing so without much resistance on my part, what with the massive amounts of mana she was packing. I was only able to elude her bewitched (and rather sultry at the time) clutches through whip smart ingenuity on my part and hubris on hers.

“Well seeing as I have no choice… show away” I said as I idly inspected some redness on my wrist without the slightest chip in my composure.

Celestia acknowledged me by sauntering ten paces from my position and turning to face me. The scant light that escaped from the confines of the library and illuminated her features hinted to me that her eyes were closed like she was concentrating on a task. I noted offhand in the corner of my vision that the Moon was speedily dipping beneath the horizon. The Princess’s focal gem sparked to life and covered her body in a warm golden aura. Her rippling hair parted to unveil two eyelids that opened up and revealed pupils that were overlaid in a fiery orange gleam as she glanced skywards. Majestic, ethereal wings of the purest white sprouted from her back and she rose into the twilit sky with a couple gentle flaps, her arms held loosely outwards at her sides. Accompanying her ascent was her namesake sun, which peeked over the rolling hills in the eastern distance and signaled the arrival of a new day.

I watched all of this happen in the span of ten seconds with silent wonderment. Whatever involuntary dubiety I had about the Princess’s ability to influence the heavens were put to ease after this manifestation of sheer power. Still, having been used to the Sun and Moon answering to no person’s beckoning for two decades back home meant that the spectacle I had just witnessed deserved a spot in the top ten preternatural things I’ve seen since arriving in a world not my own.

“That was quite a show, Celestia” I commended aloud to her as she floated down to Earth, “A bit on the flashy side though” I added in afterthought.

My subdued response caused her to laugh joyously, its rich peals ringing throughout the air, “You are a singularly tough audience to impress, Zenith. The masses go absolutely wild whenever I do that for them during the Summer Sun Celebration, and that’s a once a year occurrence” She winked at me.

I rolled my eyes, “Don’t I feel special. Be sure to reward yourself with an inordinate amount of cake as consolation for my rigorous standards” I quipped.

“That is an excellent suggestion” She smirked deviously at me, “I’ll have the palace bakers name their next commission in your honor” She teased me. Or I think she was teasing me. It is cake, and this is Celestia I’m referring to after all.

‘What in the world is she implying?’ My mind was addled trying to decipher her meaning.

I cast off my confusion and stayed true to my flippant bearing, “Make certain that it’s the best cake you’ll ever have. Ensure that it is composed of several layers with flavors that both contrast and complement the others. No colors brighter than crimson, and see to it that the core of the cake is a mystery that can only be reached with a carving knife crafted out of the void of interstellar space itself” I specified in detail with a straight face. If I was going to have a confection named after me then it had better do me justice dammit!

She giggled musically, “Just when I believe that I have you figured out, you say something witty like that and send me right back to the drawing board. Never change, Zenith” She told me with heartfelt candor, causing the warm fuzzies to come back to me en masse. 

She appraised the rays of light that were beginning to fill the valley, “Though I often feel as though my title as Princess of the Day is a misnomer. I’m only responsible for raising it during the early morning hours of Dawn, otherwise I leave it be for the rest of its travel along the sky”

I snorted softly at that, a small puff of vapor exiting through my nostrils due to the chilly air, “Don’t be ludicrous! Then we’d have to call you Eos the Dawnbringer!” I proclaimed; drawing upon what little knowledge I had of the minor Greek deities.

She considered what I basically shouted in jest with a thoughtful hum, “Perhaps. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going. My guards are a patient bunch, but making them stand sentry over my carriage for hours at a time is something that I am loath to do to them, even if they don’t mind. Fare thee well Zenith, until our paths cross again” She said in parting, which I repaid with a valedictory wave.

Once she was out of sight, I prepared to take my own leave. My wings fanned wide and I was about to take off when I heard Twilight’s voice call out to me, “Zenith wait!”

I stifled an annoyed sigh and looked back to see her standing by the doorway with her hand outstretched towards me like I was liable to disappear. Which to her credit, I likely was.

“Yes, Twilight?” I replied in a strained tone.

“I was hoping I could have a few words with you in private, the Princess advised that I speak my mind. The sooner the better, if that’s alright with you” She meekly requested, beckoning me into her dwelling.

“If you insist” I obliged her, passing through the doorway and hearing her close the door behind me.

“So what did yo-” I started, before finding myself the victim of another sudden hug by Twilight. I awkwardly patted her on the back, but did not return it this time.

She looked up at me, resting her chin on the lower folds of my robe collar, “I meant what I said, Zenith. I would like nothing better than to rebuild my friendship with you. Something I feel was damaged by my incessant need to know more. I always become like this when that which I cannot comprehend stumps me. The same happened when I tried to study Pinkie’s precognitive sense when I alternately should have quit while I was ahead. As you can imagine, it didn’t turn out that well… I’m still leery of bees” She shivered from the abject memories conjured by that black and yellow striped noun.

‘I guess she should have just let it bee’ 

And now my weekly quota for tasteless puns has been met.

“You’re alluding to what you saw inside of me, aren’t you?” I asked rhetorically.

“I’ll never forget what I saw in you” She said in an abnormally muted voice. 

“I have a teeming horde of personal issues, some far more deeply suppressed than others, Twilight. You know this better than anyone else now”

She nodded sadly, before perking up, “I know… but it only makes me that much more determined to carry out my task!” She asserted with enthusiasm. 	

“Nice to know that I’m also a checklist item” I dryly commented, before talking to her on the level, “We’re on opposite ends of the spectrum, you and I, in more ways than one. But that isn’t an excuse for the reclusive way I’ve been behaving overall, and for that I must apologize. I haven’t been fair to the people of this land, relationship wise. I keep judging them based on the standards that have been instilled in me from home. I’ve so easily overlooked the fact that a good nine tenths of the people living here are practically saints in all but name. In this manner, I have failed to truly appreciate this genial, altruistic society of yours” I confessed to her. Heck, even their snooty nobles weren’t that terrible, by and large. 

“Our misunderstanding is mutual then, in that respect. You never did let on much about this mysterious land or country you came from” She thoughtfully remarked, “And yet you are a Trifect just like the Princesses. Will you ever tell me just who you are?” She eyed me pointedly.

“You should know by now that I’ll only ever fill you in on the story behind my life’s situation when the rest of the girls are there to hear it. I won’t explain myself to you all more than once” 

Her posture slumped a little in disappointment, before I detected a glint in her eyes that notified me that she had already seen the solution, “In that case… I suppose I’ll just have to wait until the sleepover then”

She quivered in barely restrained joy once her thoughts cycled back to the slumber party, “Oh, it’s been so long since I last had a good sleepover! The last one didn’t count since I was too ‘mopesie wopesie’ as Pinkie so eloquently put it” She emphasized with the quote fingers. 

She didn’t stop there, “It serves a dual purpose too! You can fill us in on some critical information that’s been nagging at each of us, and we can additionally participate in activities that are scientifically proven to strengthen our ties together!” 

I raised an eyebrow, “Again with the science?” 

She gave me an incredulous glance, “Of course! Would you like me to show you the graphs and linked causality charts?” 

“I’d rather just take your word for it” I cringed and dismissively wagged a hand. It was too early for me to be putting up with this.

“We should catch up on some sleep, Twilight. It never hurts to be well rested. I should fly back home before folks start waking up”

She blocked me as I made for the door, “I won’t hear any of it. You’re staying here and that’s final!”

“What? You want me to sleep down in the basement again? I really can’t… not after what happened down there” The location of the deed actually had no effect on me, but she could do to perceive that it did. That way she’d let me go.

“And you won’t have to” She countered without skipping a beat, “I have a collapsible cot that I use on prolonged field trips stored under my bed. I’ll go and fetch that for you”

I was the one to block her this time, “That’s fine, Twilight. But before you go and do that, I need to get something off my chest” She looked at me in slight confusion but gave me the go ahead.

I took a deep breath before glaring lightly at the bookworm, “If you EVER betray my trust the way you did down in that basement again… I will eviscerate you and redecorate the library using your entrails as garlands” I seethed gutturally. My hands subconsciously clenched until the knuckles in my fists popped loudly.

Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks and her breathing halted as she stared open mouthed at me in horror. Gradually she recovered and chuckled fearfully to herself, “Good one… Zenith. I know that what I did crossed a lot of lines that shouldn’t be crossed, but there’s no need to be joking so morbidly”

My right eyebrow rose an inch as I watched her sidle past me, ‘She thought I was joking?’

I banished the surge of negative emotions that were flowing through me with practiced ease. My very sincere warning to Twilight served as enough of an outlet for my anger that it no longer needed to be vented. The aforementioned woman descended the stairs a short while later with the light green colored cot in question. She set it up for me in between two bookcases that weren’t part of the library’s natural wall shelves. The somewhat disheveled librarian followed this up by wishing me a good morning’s sleep, flipping a ‘closed for maintenance’ sign around the door, and pulling the curtains down over the windows before getting some shuteye herself. I traipsed to the bare boned bed and tucked myself into the cushion-less cot’s mauve colored blanket, processing one more thought before drifting off.

‘Looks like finding out how plush my Master Suite’s bed is like will have to be postponed… again’


⁂






“We’re burning it, Sparkle. End of story” I flatly declared as we trudged through a thicket-infested, once cobbled pathway that nature was slowly reclaiming with the passage of time. 

“B-but! It’s one of a kind! Think of all the ancient knowledge that’s hidden between those pages!” Twilight protested poignantly, trying her damnedest to jump high enough to snatch it out of my grasp, but I held firm. 

I found it slightly hilarious that she was so distracted by the prospect of me destroying a priceless tome that she forgot that she could simply try magicking it to safety. I’d quickly disabuse of her that notion if she did, but my point still stands. 	

It was an hour or so till the afternoon of Tuesday, when the palace archive’s copies of olden history were slated to arrive. Nothing really happened on Monday that was worth mentioning. Though Twilight consistently mustered excuses for me to stay and assist in boring, mundane librarian stuff while she more or less gave Spike the week off. Not one to let a good opening go to waste, I had him take a note to Rarity explaining to her that I’d need some repair work done on my robes. I knew that her Boutique was one of the first places on his itinerary, even though he would deny it if asked. So I gave him an excuse that was convenient for the both of us. I read between the lines that she wanted to spend time with me and indulged her. It was your usual ‘I’m penitent and proving’ spiel by and large, but she authentically put her heart into it, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Most of the things we talked about were clarifying the abstract concepts and viewpoints that she beheld in my soul that went against what she was taught growing up. Many times she was tempted to delve deeper than that, but had the nous to keep it to herself. 

Celestia was not lying when she said that my healing factor would make me hungrier than I had ever felt before, so Twilight offering to pay for lunch as remuneration for my help around the treebrary was a Godsend. Though for the price of feeling like my stomach was going to devour itself, having such an efficient rate of healing was quite nice. I looked as good as new, and even patches of marred skin that I was sure were going to emerge darker than the rest turned out fine. The only real problem I had so far was that the bookworm exhorted me to spend the week bunked up at her residence, stating sardonically that it was the ‘Week of Twilight’ and that she took her commitments seriously. While I admired how she was so dedicated to righting her previous wrongs, her strong-arming me into procedurally doing things her way was thoroughly testing my patience.

The reason why we we’re currently marching through the Neverfree (an unusually quiet affair, barring the odd, rogue ‘Cragadile’ as the Crocks were officially named, according to the walking encyclopedia in the guise of a companion) was by virtue of a visit from Luna during my dreamtime. The Princess of the Night had been reading up on the book that I had fetched for her back in the ruined Neverfree castle, and came upon an entry that concerned her. Apparently the derelict library of endless clichés contained a different book (It was more of a stone tablet with pages attached, really) with questionable incantations inside. Since it was undesirable for such a book to be left where any person or hapless fool who knew what they were doing or got lucky could stumble upon it, the Princess assigned me to prevent such a scenario, no matter how unlikely, from taking place. In a rather ironic way… I was acting as Luna’s version of her sister’s relic retrieving agent.

Twilight tagged along mainly because she wanted to check up on Zecora, and to collect the reagents that I couldn’t since the list that she gave to me was reduced to flaky, burnt, illegible pieces. I did what I could to dissuade her from following me into the castle, however she gave me the whole ‘But it’s dangerous to go alone!’ spiel and refused to budge from my side. She was anything but an encumbrance though, pointing out rare species of plants that would have resulted in nasty rashes from physical contact and casting a myriad of spells around us that doubled as predator repulsion fields and insect repellant. As you can imagine, she was not happy to hear what I intended to do to the book after all the trouble I went through of bagging it.

I switched the hands I was holding the book with and glowered at the pesky woman, “The only thing this book is filled with is knowledge that leans heavily towards EVIL… and mildew” I humorously included, though the bookworm was blind to the comical aspect. Why the Princesses would stow this in some timeworn stone chamber instead of destroying it is beyond me.  

“Princess Celestia taught me dark magic techniques that leaned towards evil, and I was able to resist! So please Zenith, don’t do this! I can’t bear the thought of losing this opportunity to learn something never before seen!” Her eyes were misty, and her cheeks were trembling as she tried to stifle her sniffles. All in all, it was a sight that only a particularly heartless person could look at and not feel even the slightest pinch of vacillation. 

‘So what does it say about me that I don’t feel anything at all?’ I brooded wordlessly. 

I sighed, “Listen, Twilight. I didn’t risk a crumbling stair trap dangling over a bottomless abyss just so you could add another forbidden text to your repertoire of parlous knowledge” I kept my stance, the controversial contents of her old tower library occurring to me. As if she needed more questionable material to tantalize her bad habits.

I had to cut it close Indiana Jones style with a desperate leap, clinging onto the jagged ledge by four sweat slicked fingers before hauling myself up with the book in tow. Panic periodically causes me to forget that I could have just flown my way out of that type of predicament. A fact that my present company saw fit to remind me with.

“But you have wings! You were in no real peril of falling! And even if you didn’t, I would have caught you with my magic!” She objected, desperate to change my mind. 

I waved a free hand, “That’s beside the point. Luna told me that it was vital that this book be destroyed, and after getting a peek of what horrors lay within, I’m feeling inclined to agree with her. So that’s what I’m going to do” And nothing she could say would stop that.

Once I brought Luna’s instructions up, the ever obedient Arcanian citizen backed down, “Can you at least tell me what it was that you read?” She asked in a fragile, capitulating voice.

I shrugged to myself in a ‘why not’ gesture, “The spark notes version is that this book contains incantations that will transform you into a neurotic, obsessed, perfection seeking monster that will stop at nothing to get what you want. Provided you speak the words aloud, that is” I relayed to her. I didn’t need any more of those people in my life, thank you very much. 

I shuddered, ‘Imagine what would happen if Rarity got her hands on this!’ Yeah, this thing was definitely getting incinerated.

Twilight moaned in regret, “Incantations? But I know so few of those! Are you certain that the Princess told you to destroy it?” She nettled me with the question she already knew the answer to but couldn’t fully accept.

I pressed the linen wrapped book adjacent to my chest, where Twilight peered at it longingly, “I say, and I quote, ‘Do not hesitate to wipe this blight of a spell caster’s volume off the face of the Earth! No good can come of it’ unquote. That’s pretty damn certain of her, bookworm” Her passionate plea made sense after her sister filled me in on the events preceding the rise of the Night Terror. Luna probably held a grudge against any and all corruptive written works, and I couldn’t fault her for being of that opinion.

“Fine!” The woman crossed her arms together and shifted the leather satchel containing her ground up reagents so it rode higher on her shoulders, “But Princess Luna hasn’t heard the end of this from me” She growled to no one in particular.

The rest of the journey back was spent picking the brains of a miserable looking Twilight in an attempt to pull her out of her funk. It mostly worked, with her mind elsewhere besides the doomed book I held in my grasp, she stopped dragging her feet and swapped crabby mode for intellectual lecture mode. I paid enough attention that I even learned a few things that I might not have otherwise picked up, like how the Neverfree was approximately one hundred kilometers across at its widest (stretching southbound anyway), which the locals considered to be extremely large. Twilight saw their standards as being overstated, since the forests of Cervidia were hundreds of miles wide in comparison, they spanned the country’s complete border with Gryphondria, and were just as pregnant with mystery, owing to the reclusive nature of its occupants. 

We made good time back to the Golden Oak library. Twilight had gotten over the worst of her sullen mood and was spouting countless facts and tidbits on a broad range of subjects that held little use for me but were interesting to hear regardless. I took advantage of her distraction to add the tablet like book to my robe’s inventory. The minute that we were back, Twilight sequestered herself in her basement to make expeditious use of Zecora’s reagents, while I waited for Celestia’s promised historical documents to turn up in the mail. 

To pass the time before they arrived, I began browsing the copious bookshelves for anything that would catch my fancy and keep it. Much to my vexation, the sorting system of the library was entirely alphabetized, not the organized classification by category devised in the Dewey decimal system. I recorded a mental note to myself to leave her a note describing to her just how she could optimize her library’s efficiency if she utilized Dewey’s brainchild.

Eventually I came across a selection of volumes that I deemed valuable enough to read. They didn’t have an official overarching name tying them together, but seemed to be a compendium on the study of magic and all themes therein. I had plenty of opportunity back when I was lodging inside Twilight’s tower in Concordia to study about magic, but the tomes available to me there were… esoteric at best, and made for singularly dry reading. I found myself a nice little nook close to the door that would allow me to be in the nearby vicinity if anybody came knocking. I dropped the load of books that I collected and carried with me and piled them on the desk, before pulling out a chair and sitting down for some reading. I’ve always had a penchant for speedily analyzing texts while maintaining sufficient retention of what I’ve read. Of course, I might have had an overallotment of points invested in that skill… because while I breezed through the written language with ease, computational numbers and the like bogged me down severely.

Thankfully, such was not the case with the first book I opened up. While it was comprehensive in its overall scope, the author (who remained unnamed) or whoever penned it down did a decent job of simplifying terms to the point where the layman could easily envision the meaning behind the paragraph’s message. Magic was defined as the regularly occurring Arcane energy that rushed through the core of the Earth and permeated the atmosphere, where it would at some point flow back into the Earth like a macro scale circulatory system. There was a footnote speculating on the existence of magic in the stars themselves as well. But there was no way for modern day academics to substantiate this speculation.

Similar to the Force, it surrounded and bound everything together like strands in a metaphorical ball of yarn, with it showing a peculiar affinity toward living things. Organic (and inorganic creatures like the monstrous star beasts, who were all but completely composed of the stuff given solid shape) organisms had their own pool of magic to call upon, whether deliberately or through diffusion into the body to aid with natural processes. They could replenish it, when they ran low (complete expenditure of magic causes a long lasting kind of physiological harm in most cases. That’s how reliant on magic living things are in this world. The same proved doubly so for the exotic star beasts, although such an event was unlikely), through passive absorption of their environment’s magic and internally modifying it to match their arcane signature, or ‘fingerprint’ from the sound of it. 

Magic existed in dozens of forms, but each form could morph into another one if certain circumstances were met. The closest analogy to compare with it was the inherent energy in a log of wood being converted into thermal and light energy during ignition. What made magic separate from those other forms of everyday energy was that it was almost exclusively harnessed by organic willpower, both directly and indirectly. There were numerous ways to harness magical energies, which manifested in practices such as vocal incantations (a lesser used method, but still effective and versatile. Those were associated with the prohibitive geas), alchemical solutions blended from magical materials and herbs (this one was favored by the Zstarasians, who did not have a conduit or medium like a focal gem to channel magic through), spells (such as those used extensively by the Stellar Magi and myself), and many more.

Magical forces had ‘charges’, but not in the same way as one would associate with electrostatic attractions or magnetic pulls of the north and south variety. For instance, instead of similar forces repelling each other, there was a magnification effect the more of an ‘alike’ magic was concentrated in the same area. Points in the leylines that crisscrossed the Earth with the highest concentrations of magic were referred to as Hotspots. Hotspots were phenomena that came about both normally and artificially. The latter of the two was present in the case of the Krystal Kingdom, which allowed for it to subsist and even thrive in an otherwise unforgiving frozen tundra in the far north. This would also explain why living in the vicinity of the Crystal Heart’s sphere of influence resulted in positive feelings regardless of how crappy a day one was having (it skirted the lines of magical brainwashing dangerously close, if you ask me). It took the positive emotions emanating from people’s hearts and propagated it. From what I remember learning, King Sombra had a way with crystals and found a way to pervert the Heart so that it spread great fear of himself, which allowed him to more evenly oppress the population once he had seized the throne for his disreputable and nefarious purposes. I didn’t know whether to be amused or marginally disconcerted that the Heart had little to no noticeable impact on my undeviating mood during my time there.

Interestingly, the author was resolute in their belief that magic was neither inherently good nor evil, and that its ‘alignment’ depended solely on the one who wielded it. To put it simply, spells that most judged to be evil could theoretically be used for good. Oppositely, light sided spells could also be used to malicious effect. After mulling it over for a bit, I could understand where the author was coming from. Magic was like a gun in that respect. It was indisputably dangerous and could maim or kill with but the slightest action, but it lacked a free will to do so of its own accord. There had to be someone ‘pulling the trigger’, so to speak. The author did concede in the footnotes that some forms of magic tended to ‘lean’, in that its influence could feedback with often deleterious results to the user. Channeling spells using the potent magic suffused into a being’s lifeblood was the most prominent illustration of negative feedback, with all the known and infamous casters spiraling into the precarious depths of insanity.

My eyes widened as I came upon a chapter detailing ‘Runes of the mind’s eye’, I frantically flipped the page and devoured the chapter’s contents in record time. What I read within cleared up a lot of questions I had been asking myself about my arcane ability. While it was true that a Stellar Mage need only give purpose to a spell and have the magical reserves necessary to meet the spell’s inherent energy demand, there was ‘sequencing’ involved before the spell was unleashed. The next few pages listed a series of symbols that corresponded to an intended action. The recording of these symbols was a tricky business, since the faithful replication of what one sees in their mind’s eye is a touch and go business. The origins behind these images were unknown, but were theorized as being nature’s way of giving structure to a spell in order to achieve the intended result. Some of the symbols were uncomplicated and made sense. For example, a trio of wavy lines depicted the one relating to water, while a near identical one going upwards portrayed levitation. Others were more difficult to make out, like the pictogram for transmogrification and it’s reversal, which looked closer to complex kanji drawn together than anything else (The reverse spell was aptly a mirror to the prime rune). Simple spells only saw one or two of these runes in their casting, while intricate ones had well over that number in huge and convoluted combinations. 

The book didn’t convey the full manifold range of spells that could be cast but provided an ample itemized index. Among the most intriguing spells that stood out were animation of inanimate objects, alarm charm, augmentation of the five inborn senses (albeit nothing that could parallel what the Valkyrian’s innately had), basic and multi-article telekinesis, bone setting, burn mitigation (‘Damn, should’ve read up on this one sooner’), calligraphy interpretation, color warping, cure insomnia (aka knockout spell), cryokinesis, dry wet clothes, dusting, energy blasts, energy beams, energy detonation, echolocation, elemental transmutation, failsafe spell (warning, not a guaranteed result), gravity manipulation, invisibility (this one had three disparate symbols denoting it, probably due to the many ways one can be perceived as invisible), illumination, illusion, magnetic manipulation, memory transfer, open canned food (I had to do a double take to make sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me), projection of force fields (the symbol for this one had an aperture in the middle where another mind rune would go, therefore reinforcing the field against whatever was being used against it), pheromone imitation, portal generation (this one had a lot of prerequisites before it could activate), pyrokinesis, spatial displacement (otherwise known as teleportation), telepathy (see consensual magic for clarification), time travel (only successfully done by Starswirl the Bearded, and the representing rune was under lock and key), and the page concluded with water breathing (Which would have been useful if I felt like impersonating a merman).

While all those spells were very interesting, what made what I did on an everyday basis strenuous for the average mage was not only the power requirement of any given spell in question, but also the fact that these mind runes had to be upheld just right at the moment of casting. It didn’t go into much specific detail as to how difficult it was for a normal spell caster to do this, but it was conveyed coherently that this was something that took years to get consistently right. So it wasn’t as if anyone could sling around a diverse number of spells willy nilly. There was a loophole of sorts, however, dealing with those mages sporting a Mana mark corresponding to one or more talents covered by the symbols in the chart. They had a notable proclivity such that those characters were essentially memorized by heart, which meant that they specialized in that brand of magic and could readily call upon them and outperform a non-specialized mage in most aspects. 

Those who won the figurative Mana mark lottery like Twilight took to all permutations of magic with precocious ease, though the chances of a Stellar Mage earning such a generalized mark was a one in many thousand shot. A sedulous mage would rely on objects to help them cast spells faster and with less of a delay between castings. My Tantō was one such object, though I knew not how it helped me accomplish these feats. There was a special mention at the bottom of a page concerning how Trifects were able to curiously harmonize these intrinsic runes with an adeptness that seemed second nature. I could safely say from personal experience that it wasn’t far from the truth. Hell, I was so effortlessly formidable that I was coming up with spells on the fly, basing them according to my most pressing needs. I was by no means griping about this, but I now had a newfound respect for those mages who believed in both themselves and their magic prowess that they would apportion their time to honing their aptitude.

I was so absorbed in the book that I almost missed the tapping report of knuckles meeting wood. Slamming the book closed and setting it aside, I shook myself of my ponderings and rose to attend to the door. Opening it, I was greeted by a familiar mailwoman with a fat envelope in one hand, and a crumbling, half eaten bran muffin in the other. At her side was a large leather satchel with an unhooked clasp that exposed a middling amount of mail to my searching eyes, suggesting that she was just about done with her duties. As per usual, she had one golden eye trained on me, and the other observing something the sky.

“Ditzy!” I exclaimed with a cheerful intonation, expertly feigning delight in seeing someone (I blame it on my frequent ‘I want to be left alone’ moods), “How pleasant it is to see you again” I dispensed with the niceties.

She attempted to give me a slipshod salute when she promptly remembered that she was holding a muffin and withdrew the gesture midway, “Hello, fancily dressed Zenith! Fancy seeing you as well! I’ve just reached one of the last stops here on my afternoon rounds. It’s been a really productive day for me!” She chirped happily, before showing me the envelope in her charge, “This just came in from the Capital, specifically instructed to be delivered to this library. Is Twilight in? There’s a rule stating that the official caretaker of the residence is supposed to take delivery of any and all mail” She stipulated, likely quoting a passage from a courier’s guide book.

I gave her a stiff nod, “She is. But she’s currently locked herself in the basement and can’t come out” I said with minor sarcasm and a rolling of my eyes.

“Oh my goodness gracious!” She gasped, the real meaning sailing clear over her pretty little head, “I accidentally lock myself in the rooms of my own house all the time! Take me to her. I can teach her how to pick the lock with a bobby pin in case it happens to her again” She entreated of me.

‘I wasn’t expecting that, but am sadly not surprised to hear it’ It was actually quite charming how willing the blonde mailwoman was to help out someone that she perceived was in need.

“No, no!” I hastily corrected her before she could cross the threshold, “Twilight’s just doing science. She does not want to be interrupted either. It’s practically the same thing as self incarceration whenever she’s concerned. I’m technically appointed as the acting librarian in her stead” I tenuously explained to her, stretching the truth ever so slightly. I was just using that as an excuse to blow off speaking to Twilight while she was in her irksome ‘scientist mindset’.

It wasn’t a terribly busy job watching over the rather unnervingly quiet library in all honesty. It also allowed for me to pass the week by without risking getting recognized by most of the female population as a temporarily famous male model (‘I wonder what they did to my body double after they cornered him? I almost felt sorry for the gullible fool’). There were an appallingly paltry number of people who came in just to skim the titles, let alone check them out of the building. It was the subject of much aggravation that the nerdy woman saw fit to bless me with the other day. I could sympathize with her objectively. I know that I would feel pretty unappreciated if the candy barbeque idea I came up with hadn’t gone over as well as it did. I personally would have kept these well founded complaints to myself, but I could acknowledge the fact that there were exceedingly few people in this land who were even remotely like me.

“Huh…” She dully vocalized, “Well in that case, I’m not acting out of my bounds by giving it to you” She handed it to me, which I graciously took.

“Hey listen” She said in a less businesslike tone, “I wanted to thank you again for those inspiring words of yours to me when we first met. They’ve really helped me realize that I was wrong to listen to and be discouraged by other people’s doubts about myself and my competence at my job. In fact, my manager Post Haste has noticed a huge increase in my already considerable efficiency since then!” She spouted with vigor.

I smiled, a little less artificially this time, “I’m glad to hear that. No one should ostracize somebody else just because they deviate from some overrated norm” I philosophized with some disdain evident in my tone. How dare anyone treat such a sweet, hardworking woman like her with contempt for something that she has no control over!

“You’re too nice! And that reminds me that I’ve wanted to show my thanks in a more solid form…” She rummaged around in her satchel and pulled out a brown paper bag and offered it to me, “…I baked you a muffin! I made a fresh batch of them this morning. It’s plain… in case you had allergies to fruit bits, or something” She concluded thoughtfully.

“Thanks…” I said, gingerly taking it, “But how did you know to bring one for me here? No one besides two or three people even saw me in the library yesterday, and I’m not residing here in the strictest sense” I expressed with slight confusion. How could she have known? Unless…

“Well I always carry around a cache of muffins! Three for my lunch break and a crisp spare… in case I ran into you again on my routine runs” She answered me. But that would mean that she lugged around an extra one for when she next interacted with me.

‘Heurk! Too many warm fuzzies at once!’ My face twitched a couple times, but otherwise I was okay on emotional lockdown mode. It was mildly alarming to me that I’ve had to engage it with rising regularity the longer I linger here. 

This wacky world must be getting to me.

“You didn’t have to do that for me Ditzy” I uttered, after recovering from a serious case of the feels. 

She laid a steepled hand against her collarbone and struck a pose, “It was my sincerest pleasure as a neighborhood postal worker and as a friend. Now if you’ll pardon me, duty calls in the northern end of town” She fanned her wings open and rocketed skywards… before heading on an incorrect bearing that pointed towards the Neverfree.

“Uhh… Ditzy!? North is in the other direction!” I called after her. She somehow heard me over the shrillness of the wind rushing past her ears and heeded my advice, sending me a gracious salutation in passing and continuing on her way. 

I scoffed in silent amusement to myself and shut the door at my heels with my magic. I walked back to my little nook with my cargo in tow and tossed the hefty envelope onto the desk before appraising the paper bag containing the muffin that Ditzy baked for me. I don’t know what possessed me to give it a cautionary sniff, but I did, and it had a genuinely enticing aroma that caused my stomach gurgle in anticipation. 

I discreetly scanned my surroundings as if the bookworm was just lurking around the corner. Twilight had a stern rule about no eating in the main chamber of the library, and she would raise hell if she even suspected that mischief was afoot. But she wasn’t here to observe me breaking that rule, and I was too lazy to bother bringing my reading into the kitchen where the lighting wasn’t as bright, so I unfolded the bag and out fell a plump looking brown muffin that was almost too picturesque to be eaten. After a delicious first bite, I horked the rest of it down in record time and groaned in a sensation of repletion. I had to hand it to Derpy. She unquestionably knew what made even a plain bran muffin taste incredible. I cleaned up the crumbling grains to ensure that no evidence of my transgression was left behind. 

Satisfied with my thorough cleanup. I turned my attention to the envelope sitting on the desk and examined it. It looked just like a standard manila envelope from back home, with the small exception that it was sealed using candlewax, and with a curious stamp on it of a bird perched atop a pyramid of scrolls that I assumed to be that of the archives. I broke the seal using the razor sharp tip of my Tantō as a makeshift letter opener and poured out its musty and aged contents for my scrutinizing enjoyment. I was a little confused as to why they were so weathered looking for copies. Perhaps these documents were so ancient that even their copies could be passed off as antiques.

With that in mind, I handled the fragile manuscripts with care and unfurled the closest scroll in order to digest the lore of an age long since passed. The documents were a medley of first and second hand accounts in their totality, most stemming from chroniclers and scribes who penned down any and all observations about important goings on and characters for the sake of posterity. A majority was written in an obsolete form of cursive that was hard to make out, but what I discovered within the faded papers was worth the wait. 

Azure Phoenix was once a Stellar Mage in his original incarnation, serving in the high court of Stellaria as one of Platinum’s courtier advisors and as a member of the lesser nobility. He was remembered as a controversial figure that was one of the outspoken few that actually advocated joining with the other clans, much to the disapproval and disgust of his fellow court members. Only, he did so with the underlying reasoning that they needed to combine their strengths with that of the other clans if they were to combat the Windigo (I noted offhand that there existed spelling variations of Windigos and Windigoes, much like the theater-theatre disparity) menace that ravaged the lands in a constant and withering state of permanent winter. The other rare proponents of unification did so with less violent ends in mind, wanting to found a new home far beyond their frosted borders. The young and headstrong mage studied under the legendary Starswirl for a time, though it was said that he only really took what he wanted to know from the combative school of magic. Even so, he was not quite talented enough to be completely taken under his wing, that honor went to Clover the Clever (Whose wry wit was thought to be one of the reasons for earning Starswirl’s exclusive mentorship).

Speaking of the wizened wizard, Starswirl himself took an extended leave of absence many months prior to Phoenix’s exile from Platinum’s good graces and left what he considered to be the “Sanctimonious hypocrisy of Stellaria” in the rearview. He didn’t say much about where he was going, but hinted that he sought out the ‘prophesized siblings’ that were foretold to unite all his brethren, ignoring the predominant clan lines, under a just and harmonious banner where all would flourish and live in unanimity. 

I briefly perked my head up from my perusal. Gee, I wondered who the prophesized siblings could have been? Did one of them have an endearing love of cake? And did the other exhibit a habit for popping up in my dreams before I even finished their housekeeping? The probabilities were infinite. I supposed that it would have to remain a mystery to be reflected on for later revelations on the character of the prophesized siblings.

After a furious yet fateful tirade in the throne chambers of the Princess, (who for all intents and purposes was the prime ruler during this period. This was so as her parents, the King and Queen, took ill from the dreaded cold of winter and were too bedridden to rule anything) Azure Phoenix was dismissed from the castle until further notice (which was a roundabout way of saying permanently in those days) and he stormed out of her presence in a rage. The document that was in my hands made no mention about anything disappearing from the Princess’s belongings, but a footnote in a second hand account confirmed what Phoenix told me and lent some credence to his claim. Although heretofore I was mostly convinced that he was who he said he was, or at the very least a plausible liar.

I had to sift through the papers for one that would chronologically align to Azure’s story but I eventually found what I was looking for. This particular chronicle was written by someone named Glinting Sand, (ironic, since he had known only snow by the time of that paper’s printing) whose biography listed him as an average Agrarian living in the aptly renamed Snowed-in Village. What made this seemingly insignificant village stand out from all the others was that in this community the three clan types scratched out a living together in a rough collaboration. It was an unprecedented precursor to Arcania’s full on cooperation between the clans that exists today. I’d even go as far as designating it as a proto-Magiville, where peoples from each clan could be found, only with less friendliness all around. There weren’t enough of them to catch the attention of the higher ups and they were only barely able to make ends meet, but it was this quality that earned them a place in the histories, even if it was a side story in import.

Azure had arrived in town one day with his ‘disciples’, which only consisted of attendants and servants that he pretty much press-ganged into following him. He swiftly earned himself a position as one of the town’s leaders after he fended off an assault by an incensed Windigo whose manipulation over the weather surrounding the village was weakened by the merely mutual dislike harbored there, instead of the hatred that was dominant throughout the land. It tried again a second time and was slain for its efforts by a ‘blinding finger of flame’ that must have been the mana eating fire that Phoenix came up with. That was when Phoenix’s popularity decidedly began to gain momentum among the town’s residents.

Azure understood and legitimately believed in the concept of synergy, and implemented it to tremendous effect. He used his newly developed spells to melt the snows enveloping the town and freeing up the trapped soils that were critical to the Agrarian’s farming. He taught the other Stellar Mages to cast flames the way he did by calling upon their righteous internal anger to rain down hell on those that would threaten the safety of their families. He persuaded the obstinate Valkyrians to act as forward scouts and sentries that would alert everyone else if danger of any variety was approaching. With this in mind, he established the town’s guard in follow up and supplemented it with all three clan types so that each one complemented the other. His magnetizing charisma and forward thinking made him a upstanding figure for the villagers to follow, who adored him as if he were a member of their own family. And for a time, the Snowed-in Village knew a phase of peace and relative plenty.

I had to exchange papers for the succeeding sheet in the series to see what came next. But I had a strong inkling of an idea as to what came afterwards, if what Phoenix boasted to me held any kernel of truth. 

I formulated my cynical presumptions much too soon. Apparently the man who tried to kill me in that forest was then enveloped in some kind of conspiracy involving the three powers. The steadily starving clans gazed upon the fertile soils of the village with hungering need in their eyes and rapacity in their minds. They each separately sent representatives to bargain for the tenable farmland of the village. The mouthpieces of each clan used any tools at their disposal, offering wealth, the status of protectorate, or subtle threats to turn it over to their government. The specific details were scant, but Phoenix managed to bluff them away, saying that he would see the rows of wheat razed to the ground rather than concede them to those who didn’t earn it through the sweat of their brow. He especially hated the persistence and silver tongues of the Stellarian negotiators, many of whom he recognized from his court days and angrily swore that he would send them home in a box if they didn’t leave the town that was under his protection alone. 

Obviously, once diplomacy failed, each of the three puissant powers tried using force of arms to gain control of the golden fields of the town. But foreseeing this, Azure strategically maneuvered himself ahead of time by having the majority of the growing fields sown in what was essentially an open no man’s land bare of any slopes or inclines. So when the forces dispatched from the three powers converged, they saw each other in full view and the hatred in their hearts boiled over. The ‘Massacre of the fields’ as it infamously came to be known, was a most bloody example of what happens when harmony fails and swords are clutched in a white knuckle grip. The three detachments slaughtered each other until each was forced to withdraw, and while the fields were unfortunately sacrificed in the process, the three powers never again attempted to snatch Snowed-in’s assets. Fields could be re-sown, but lives weren’t as easily replaced. The rebuffed three clans learned that the costly way.

I took a break from my reading and leaned back in the stiff wooden chair. So far I was at a loss as for what to make of Phoenix’s character. The man I was learning about seemed like someone I could almost cheer for, if he hadn’t tried to burn me to death just a day or so prior. He fought the system when he knew that it was making a glaring mistake and set out to make his own way when he realized that they wouldn’t listen to him. He wasn’t the nicest guy out there by any means, but he had honorable intentions and was cunning enough to thwart his enemies’ plans. The innovation of magic rooted in his inner fire was impressive as well. He seemed to have no reservations about using force to get things done, but I saw no signs indicating that he was vengeful in his original life. Perhaps once he was an upright man, but that was not who I dueled with in the ruined deep of the castle. Time was not kind, indeed, principally so to the wretched users of blood magic.

With my reformed perspective of Phoenix factored into my judgment, I resumed reading.

Having won a great political victory over his opponents, Azure wasted no time in solidifying his unofficial title as the Guardian and decision maker of his little kingdom. With his authority secured, Azure engaged additional measures to seal off his village from intruders. The details once again glazed over just how he specifically managed to accomplish this, but Snowed-in virtually disappeared from the maps. Years passed, which then turned into decades. While their brethren were immigrating to a “Promised land, flowing with milk and honey”, (Those were the exact words. Cue the double take) the inhabitants of the growing town stayed behind where they felt both cozy and at home. Azure grew bored of micro managing his hard fought home and often ‘went out’ to cure his restlessness, usually by hunting down Windigoes and burning them into oblivion. Even if Azure Phoenix made good on his bold claim of destroying the Windigo spirits, it did nothing to lift the icy veil that had descended on the old country. There was simply too much residual hatred left over from the three clans for it to revert back to the way things once were. 

Like all mortals, no matter their monumental achievements, Azure Phoenix advanced in age and grew feeble, even though the fire in his core burned as bright as ever. His mind remained sharp despite this impairment, and he devised and rejected dozens of ways to stave off the inevitable grip of mortality. Finally he… reluctantly (‘Huh?’) brought his concerns to his townsfolk. The contented people who lived under his protective and just hand, saw the fear in their fearless leader’s eyes. The grateful citizens of Snowed-in took heart and offered to do whatever they could to aid him, as it was the very least they could do for all the things that he did for them as a public servant. Phoenix informed them about one method he could employ to live on and protect the weak, but it would require a sacrifice that might have long lasting consequences for his adopted kinsmen. 

At that point I skipped ahead, it’s not like this wasn’t anything new to me. It was another decade or so before the villagers could tell if the ritual was successful, since Phoenix’s body succumbed shortly afterwards. Sure enough though, an Agrarian couple’s son returned home from playing outside one day behaving radically different. He no longer answered to the name Dust Rush, but referred to himself as Azure Phoenix, the man they owed their allegiance to. His parents thought he was joking at first, but even if it was an elaborate hoax, their son wasn’t acting like his usual self. The newly reborn Phoenix didn’t stick around to prove his identity to his newly acquired ‘parents’, mostly dedicating his time to casting his special fire magic without having to rely on a channeling focal gem like he had for his previous lifetime. 

While he had cheated death (at another being’s expense), Azure wasn’t quite the same person coming out as he was going into the ritual. He retained most of his past memories, but had no tangible connection to them, and therefore no reason to stay and defend Snowed-in like he said he would. He stopped living according to the needs of others, and started living for himself. The one thing that did stay constant, however, was his desire to see justice done and mete out punishment where he considered it deserved. Azure abandoned Snowed-in once his body came of age, forsaking his kinsfolk and traveling alone towards the recently founded Arcania for reasons only known to him. 

Without his guiding influence, Snowed-in became a ghost town as more and more of its denizens made the move to the warmer and united lands that I find myself in today. But a sinister shadow from their prior town life followed them wherever they went. Every generation or so, male members of their family would either come home with a foreign glint in their eyes or not come home at all. Azure Phoenix’s price of protection took its toll interminably onwards.

‘Up till recently that is’ I amended mentally.

The sound of the basement door opening and a woman emerging from the stairwell humming to a tune scarily similar to ‘If I only had a brain’ demanded my immediate attention. I glanced out the window and was made aware that the sun would be setting soon. Sorting through all of those documents ate up extra time than I initially anticipated.

Twilight covered her maw to suppress a yawn, “Phew! Science might be fulfilling, but sometimes it’s a little tiring. Still, Zecora’s reagents worked like a charm! Well… not exactly like a charm, it’s more of a figurative expression. It’s a pity though that I couldn’t initiate the electrolysis of the resultant solutions into their separate components” She wasn’t facing me, occupied as she was with putting away some of her handheld lab equipment in a shelved closet where the brooms and feather dusters were kept.

‘It’s getting awfully nerdy in here’ Mayhap I should open a window.

“Are you… talking to me? Or yourself?” I vocalized to her, inserting the papers back into the envelope and leaving it on the desk for her to see.

She shut the closet door and twisted about to face me, “Why, you of course! Who in the world would speak to themselves when they could think? Anyhow…” She trailed off, narrowing her eyes at me for some reason, “Why are there food crumbs on your collar, Zenith?” She asked in a harsh voice, with plentiful undertones of anger.

“Oh, I had a muffin earlier” I truthfully answered, quickly fabricating a realistic backup excuse.

“And where did you eat it?” She demanded to know, seconds away from grinding her teeth together.

“Within the kitchen’s vicinity of course!” I ambiguously answered, “These offending crumbs are a result of me forgetting to clean myself off” 

That’s right, I was portraying myself as a bit of a slob to a low level neat freak in order to exculpate myself. Shame is for squares.

I received a deadpan stare worthy of a fellow snarker, “Uh huh… and I suppose you forgot to throw out the paper bag too?” She said, pointing to the equally messy piece of evidence sitting on the nook desk and not in the rubbish bin.

My shoulders hitched until they were even with my earlobes, “What can I say? I’m forgetful about these things” Was my lackadaisical response.

She dragged a palm against her face, “Ugh… just… don’t let me catch you with foodstuffs on your person outside of the kitchen again” She tetchily commanded, “I’d rather this place not have to be warded against ants” 

“Gotcha loud and clear!” I saluted with two fingers, “So what were you going to tell me before our conversation veered off on that tangent?”

“I was going to apprise you that Applejack and Pinkie Pie were joining us for night sky watching up on Stargazer’s Hill” 

The name rung a bell, “Consider me apprised! Mind if I set up a bonfire for us on the side? I haven’t done anything camping related in forever” That was one of the reasons anyway. I had one last order of business that needed to be crossed off my imaginary checklist before I could call it a day.

Her eyes flicked side to side as she gave the unusual proposition some thought, “Err… sure? Just don’t make it too big. Any excess light given off by it could interfere with our view of the sky, which would be counterproductive to the overall intent of our outing. I also deem it prudent to tell you that it will only be us four, since I won’t permit an extension on Spike’s bedtime when he already has the bulk of his duties taken over by you” She helpfully pontificated, reminding me that I was her indentured servant for the week in all but title. Twilight might not be a slave driver, but she was real finicky about adhering to her prearranged timetables.

I held up my hands in a diplomatic gesture, “Relax. I’m not going to ignite an inferno, Twilight. At what precise time does this sky watching occur?”

“As soon as the Sun sets and Luna’s Moon nears its apex” She explained, “Why do you need to know?”

“So I can run an errand or two before I meet you there… and so I can change. I’ve been wearing these robes for well over a day now!” I exclaimed indignantly. My clothes still smelled of char and the great outdoors. It’s done wonders for my sinuses.

With that said, I painstakingly returned home to dispose of my accoutrements and avail myself of my expanded and stocked wardrobe (How did they know my measurements?). I selected informal wear of blue jeans and a red woolen sweater before folding up my worn outfit so I could bring it to Rarity the next I saw of her (Which was to be any of the following nights right after the sleepover scheduled for this Sunday that was convenient for me, if the reply note I got back from Spike was any clue. It’s probably for the best that Spikey Wikey wasn’t nosy enough to read it himself, or there would be undue tension between us from jealousy, and I never liked facing up to conflict that I couldn’t merely sidestep out of the way of). Wrapping that up, I strapped my guitar to my back and slid a special item into a spare satchel to carry with me before heading out again. Furthermore, I made a couple purchases at the stores in town before they closed shop for the day.

I had memorized the overall layout of Magiville and the surrounding landmarks through a mixture of familiarity from living here and from memorizing a cartographer’s map yesterday during the lull between Spike’s repetitive library duties. Stargazer’s Hill was a taller than average prominence outside of the built up portions of town and was located somewhere in-between the expanse separating Sweet Apple Acres and Fluttershy’s cottage. It earned its name for reasons that should be evident enough. Yet, I’ve never been able to partake of the location myself, so I couldn’t judge the importance of its position with my own understanding. But if I had to guess, it was likely popular insofar that it was unaffected by the obscuring light pollution that sufficiently populated settlements were known for.

I arrived ahead of time with my recently bought supplies in hand and began setting up a ring of stones to contain tonight’s bonfire. Sure a patch of healthy and verdant grass had to be immolated for the site to be constructed, but as a benefit, it could be used and reused ad infinitum. I used logs doused with a tiny sprinkle of ignition fluid in lieu of kindling because I didn’t feel like going cheap on this one. Rifling through the contents of my satchel, I pulled out the stone-back book (‘Talk about hard cover’) whose process of retrieval well nigh gave me a heart attack and tore the pages away from the tableted binding one at a time, savoring each ripping noise with a eerie sense of satisfaction. After burying the tablet component of the book's binding, I wedged the pages into each of the cracks between the logs and stood back to admire my handiwork. I was no great outdoorsman by any definition, but the sight in front of me could pass itself off as reasonable imitation of a campfire. The only thing that remained was to light it up.

I was going to just use a standard spell and squeeze a spark onto the flammable material, but was reminded of the intense fire that Phoenix could summon by fueling his with righteous anger. Come to think of it, his technique was remarkable similar to when I experimented with imbuing emotion into my spells back in Concordia, and that achieved some pretty potent results. Albeit turbulent emotions made for unstable and uneconomical casting, mana wise. Shunting raw emotion into magic is always a risky business; any sudden fluctuations in your mood and the spell could short circuit, or worse… backfire. This didn’t stop memories that I didn’t particularly care for, and which roused me to anger, from automatically pouring forth from my subconscious mind and accidentally activating the enkindling spell that I prepped in advance. 

A blazing surge not unlike the funneled kind that streams out of a jet’s engine discharged from the palms my hands and onto the wooden fuel, fulminantly triggering combustion and causing me to recoil backwards onto the earth. My potentially embarrassing pratfall aside… the result of my spell work was quite a spectacle, once the torrent of flame settled down into an off putting color that normal campfires did not take after. The crackling coming from the fire was also odd, almost reminiscent of morose whispers steeped in cafard. Those died down after a minute however, while the illumination remained a creepy combination of hues that would have made for a spine tingling Halloween ambiance. The moment my heart rate stabilized itself, I removed my other camping goodies from my satchel and set them up appropriately. I snugly basked in the otherwise soothing warmth and reveled in my introverted aloneness.

It was a feeling that was not meant to last, sadly. I soon caught wind of the rhythmic footfalls of Twilight and her Agrarian friends cresting the hill, drawn to my campfire like moths to a fiery beacon.

I waved to them as they came near, “Twilight. Applejack. Pinkie Pie” I addressed them individually, and each mirrored it in their own amiable way. They formed a secondary ring around the campfire and stared at it with varying looks of bemusement on their faces.

“Err… did somethin’ go wrong here? Cuz that there fire jus’ don’t look natural” Applejack commented aloud about the greenish yellow glow bathing us. She freed her Stetson from her head as she sat down, placing it over her protruding knee as a substitute hat rack.

“Yeah! It’s all spooky and sinister looking! Are we telling each other ghost stories already!?” Pinkie piped in energetically as she plopped herself by the fire with a slight bounce. I was tempted to give into my impulsive urge to use the quote ‘Baby got back’, but restrained myself, finding the reference to be in poor taste.

I ignored the party girl in favor of the flaxen haired cowgirl, “What do you think is fueling that fire?” Was my rhetorical question to the humble fruit farmer.

Her forehead scrunched in on itself, reckoning over whether or not it was a trick question, “Uhh… wood, I assume?”

I shook my head, “You assume partially incorrect then” From the horrified look on Twilight’s countenance, I could deduce that she pieced it together, “Why don’t you enlighten them for me, Twilight?” I cheekily suggested to her.

“T-t-the b-book… the f-forbidden one t-that I w-wanted to r-read” Her voice became weak as her eyes moistened and she sandwiched her head between her legs. 

“Don’t feel too depressed Twilight” I told her reassuringly, before reaching into the fringes of the campfire and pulling out a straightened coat hanger wire with a toasted marshmallow of a golden luster speared on the end of it. I blew on it in case it was still hot and had a tentative nibble taken from the top. I hummed positively and then wolfed down the rest of it. It was undoubtedly one of the better marshmallows I’ve ever sampled.

I tapped her on the thigh and offered a second one to her, “Turns out that books filled with evil incantations can additionally make campfire comestibles taste delectable!" I advertised to the disheartened woman. Even though I was acting waggish about it, I felt the teensiest smidgen of guilt for literally sending her hopes of reading the tablet book up in smoke.

She accepted the thin rod with a wobbling hand and bit into the spongy confection. Chewing thoughtfully for a moment, she swallowed, “I… can taste the magic in the texture. Should we really be eating this?” She hesitantly gandered at me in inquiry. Food tainted with magic didn’t exactly enhance its palatability factor. Magical food poisoning didn’t sound like a pleasant experience either.

But I was largely unconcerned for the most part, “I will let you know if I become explosively ill from using enchanted book pages as tinder for the purposes of marshmallow roasting” I mentioned with a carefree bearing, counting on my mellowness to banish her fears somewhere they couldn’t cut into the relaxed atmosphere of the campfire. A trifect’s constitution was practically hammered out of durasteel. Even so, I did prompt myself to remember that I shouldn’t be using that as an excuse to test the limits of that metabolism.

“Can’t be nearly as unhealthy as the time I tried some of Applejack’s baked bads! I was certain that I actually tinted green at one point! It wasn’t much of an enviable situation though!” Pinkie exclaimed with a giggle as she grabbed a stack of toasted marshmallows of her own and messily chowed down with no observance of decorum whatsoever.

Applejack attempted to hide a grimace at the memory (or Pinkie’s atrocious pun) that portrayed her in an unflattering light, but without her trusty hat to shield her expression, she was easier to read than most of the sperglord’s child learning books. I proffered a marshmallow to her with an outstretched arm to put her at ease, but the country girl politely declined, impelling me to enjoy it in her stead. With my right cheek puffed in expansion from my prolonged savoring of the melted treat, I took my instrument out and began casually playing the Engineer’s theme song, which I felt apposite for the ongoing occasion. Minus the noticeable lack of sentry guns, being shot at, and briefcases stuffed with enemy intelligence anyways.





No more words were exchanged as we gazed upon the twinkling stars as each one unveiled itself. It was then and there that I realized that the unadulterated canvas of brilliance above me was truly a marvel to behold. The night sky over Concordia was beautiful, but here on Stargazer’s Hill it was absolutely breathtaking. I couldn’t even recall the last time I saw that many shooting stars dart along my vision. The others (even Twilight) quietly wished upon them, which I found charmingly rustic, but also a tad superstitious. 

Undulating multicolored ribbons of aurora danced along the sky and bedazzled us. After an interval of admiring the empyrean ceiling, Twilight started pointing out specific constellations, unintentionally lecturing the rest of us about how some were named after valiant heroes from olden times, or after the tools and weapons that rendered them as legends. I’ll readily admit that I was never terribly proficient with astronomy, but it was worrisome that none of them were names or shapes that I could recognize right off the bat. Even Orion’s distinctive belt was nowhere to be found above, which evoked a melancholic sentiment in me. My face betrayed nothing as per usual, but anyone who looked me in the eyes could figure out that I felt mildly homesick.

I heard the blades of grass next to me shift as Applejack scoot over to me, “Hey sugarcube. What’s wrong? Yer givin’ off an aura bluer than the fuzz on those pancakes that I found lyin’ forgotten under Apple Bloom’s bed yesterday” She analogized in an effort to break the ice. I didn’t even want to know what breed of mold the adorable girl with the red bow tie in her hair was unwittingly cultivating.	

I idly plucked at my guitar, not focusing on any one exact song, “Forgive me for asking this, but do you find yourself missing your parents at times?” I posed the question gingerly, not wanting to cross a sensitive line with the woman.

“Shucks, ya don’t hafta apologize for askin’ that!” She pardoned me with an unexpected chuckle, “A’course I miss ‘em! But I also know deep in ma’ soul that they’re watchin’ over me and mah family” She echoed the words that Annabelle said to me.

“And what if you were told that the chances of ever seeing them again were just about nil?” I disclosed in a low voice, twanging at the strings of my guitar with an imperceptible increase in volume. 

Twilight was distracted with educating Pinkie (who was actually sitting still and paying attention in a manner that was most unlike her usual bouncy self) on some subject probably related to our stargazing. Why I was about to give the Element of Honesty off all people a sneak peek into my origins was beyond me. But this… inexplicable urge to talk to her about this superseded my desire for delayed secrecy.

Her peaceful expression evaporated, “Land sakes…” She began, unsure of how to process that, “…I don’t know what ah’d do if I could never see mah ma and pa again” She eyeballed me sternly, “Why do ya ask me this? You separated from yer parents or somethin’?” She broached a sensitive issue.

“Look at the stars, Applejack” She stared at me funny before she complied, simultaneously stealing sidelong glances at me, “Count them. How many of those pinpricks of luminosity do you think there are?” I queried of her.

She scratched at her unladen head as she worked it out, “Uhh… maybe a few thousan’ or so?” She eventually guessed after a minute.

‘I knew she wasn’t a fan of math, but that was kind of pathetic’

I briskly shook my head, “Disregarding how far off the mark that estimate is, let’s say for a moment that you were correct. If each of those stars counted as a mile, how many of them do you surmise would represent how great of a distance removed from home you reckon I am?”

“Ah’m gonna take a wild guess and say… all of ‘em?” Was her lackluster reply. Man, she wasn’t even trying anymore!

“Then you must forgive me when I reveal to you that it was a trick question. The answer in all likelihood transcends the very concept of distance” I explicated in a short but difficult to decipher style of speech.

She appeared hopelessly lost, “M’fraid I don’ follow yer fancy train of logic there, Zenith”

“Suffice it to say, the two people responsible for bringing me into the world… aren’t even a part of this one” I let her mull that over for a while.

“Okay, enuff of that hogwash ambiguity!” She whispered shrilly, “Either say what ya mean, or don’ say nothin’ at all!” She issued her ultimatum, evident by the folding of her arms and a stink eye leveled at me. Why did the women here use the same body language so frequently?

I sighed, tolerating her rational impatience, “Let’s just say that I won’t be seeing my parents in the flesh any more than you or your siblings will with yours”

She didn’t accept this, “But jus’ what are you sayin’? That they’re in the grave? Same as mine?”

I was taken aback by the morbid thought, “Heaven forbid! They’re very much alive and well, I should hope! It’s just that they live beyond the metaphorical cosmic veil on a world quite like this one, and at the same time, radically different from it in so many aspects” It had considerably less fantastical things, to begin with.

She goggled at me like I had grown a second nose, “Yer a strange one, Zenith. That’s fer sure” She slowly remarked, “But if that’s true, then why arn’tcha doin’ everythin’ ya can ta get back to ‘em?”

I scoffed incredulously, “You and your bullheaded straightforwardness, Applejack. It’s just not that simple” I spoke in a way that warned her to drop it.

She didn’t take too kindly to being called ‘bullheaded’ and pressed onward, “An’ why not? What’s stoppin’ ya?” She challenged, unaware of how absurd the odds against me going home were.

I tilted my head to the side sarcastically as I ceased strumming Octavia’s gift to me, “Oh… I don’t know… maybe the fact that no known magic exists that can bridge the gap between worlds, or maybe how I was possibly summoned here with the express purpose of preventing countless lives from being snuffed out, or perhaps God is just screwing with me and I’m the derriere of some sick joke!” I snidely listed off to the apple farmer, losing my cool.

She slapped me across the face… hard. On account of her being Agrarian (and an incredibly toned one at that), it hurt like the dickens, “Don’t you dare take yer creator’s name in vain! Whatever superlative reason that brought ya to us, it was a damn good one! Ya hear me? So quit yer bellyaching and man up!” She hissed at me like a diamondback, our chatting company still oblivious to the tension going on behind them. There was a spark of outrage in her normally gentle, emerald green eyes that I’d never seen before. Even though it was night, that little rant of hers was as effective as any wake up call.

To my credit, I didn’t rub at the stinging sore spot like a wussy, “You’re right, Applejack. That was disrespectful, and most unbecoming of me” I turned away from her in genuine shame. I shouldn’t have slipped like that. There was a reason why I refused to let my emotions get the better of me.

“Zenith…” Her voice softened perceptibly, “I don’t rightly know what kinda burden yer shoulderin’… but ya can’t become bitter. Take it from someone who knows where that road leads” She exhorted of me.

“I sense that there’s a story behind those words” I observed. Whether or not she imparted it to me was her prerogative.

“Sure is. Have I ever told you the story of how I obtained mah Mana mark?” She asked first, to which I responded in the negative. 

It wasn’t necessarily lying that I knew in advance how those apples manifested on her hands. While I got the basic gist of it, Applejack herself never narrated to me of the tale. Heck, I sort of feel like a jerk for not asking a single instance during the time I toiled next to her for an arduous, laborious week at the Acres. But in my defense, she cracked the figurative whip hard enough that I had to utilize any free time she permitted me in order to recuperate.

She inhaled deeply before speaking, “I wasn’t always the eager farm gal that you see before ya now. When I was a girl, not much older than Apple bloom is now, bless her young heart, I dreamed of participatin’ in the sophisticated life that people led up in the city of Steelhatten”

Even though I had foreknowledge of this, hearing it from her lips still elicited a snort from me, “You? Living the high life of a city socialite? That’s a funny picture” 

She thwacked her knee against mine in retaliation, “Granny’s got a photo album somewhere provin’ what I say, if ya won’t take mah honest word for it” She countered with a smirk, “Now where was I? Oh right, yearnin’ for the Big Apple, instead of the countless and borin’ regular sized apples growin’ just outside mah bedroom window”

‘There are some uncanny similarities shared between our worlds’ I noted, with the informal name of the city tickling at my imagination.

“I took mah concerns to mah Granny, who had a wise glint in her eye that I was too young and foolish to think anythin’ of back then. She arranged for me ta stay with mah aunt and uncle Orange and sent me off with whatever I could haul with me on mah back” She said, mimicking the motion of swinging a bindle staff onto her shoulder.

“Sounds like it was an adventure” I stated, having a fondness for traveling and experiencing what the world had to offer.

She fanned at the air in refute, “T’weren’t nothin’ of the sort, at least in comparison to the stuff I find mahself doin’ these days. Anyway, I took a carriage to the city and knocked on mah aunt and uncle’s door. I never knew that side of mah family very well, on account of them skippin’ the majority of our family reunions and all. But they said they found mah country charms to be ‘quaint, if not out of place’, and so they trained me how to act and speak like a proper lady” She vocalized the last part in a very convincing and refined southern belle accent. It didn’t suit her, to be candid. She pulled off the cowgirl mien tinged with that drawling accent too well for that.

“Obviously some of that training rubbed off on you, but didn’t stick” I interjected randomly, doing the peanut galleries in my mind proud.

She huffed derisively, “Ah don’t believe in that ‘nature or nurture’ horse manure anyhow, but that’s what I was to them. An unofficial experiment for mah aunt and uncle to showcase to their high class friends” She held up five calloused fingers and pulled then down in sequence, “I dressed like ‘em, ate like ‘em, talked all hoity toity like ‘em, engaged in anecdotes like ‘em, and even listened to that confusin’ opera stuff that they so were passionate about. Yet even after the hassle, they could only ever view me as some back country bumpkin from a farm whose name didn’t ring a bell in their thick skulls” Her expression was sour. It was plain that this was a touchy topic that irked her to this day.

“And now you’re an Element of Harmony, renowned throughout the country for her virtue. Shows you what they know” I gave a louche grin to articulate the ambient mirth, which spread to her in a small fit of laughter, despite her efforts to remain dour faced.

“Heh, ya got that right. But you’re distractin’ me, so quit it!” She cleared her throat, “After one particularly awful an’ alienatin’ dinner party, I realized that I made a mistake turning on mah roots and mah kin. Again, I was mopin’ by mahself next to the window when I saw a wave of colorful light streak its way across the sky. Whatever it was about that rushin’ surge of light… it awoke somethin’ in me, somethin’ mighty powerful. So by the time breakfast rolled around, I bid mah aunt and uncle goodbye, thanked ‘em for their generous hospitality, and booked it on the very next coach bound fer home”

She paused for a moment to inspect the back of her hands and the trio of apples superimposed on them with a smile that was equal parts prideful and piteous. The latter of which nagged at my inability to understand. Why would she look resentful as well?

“Mah family was there at the gates waitin’ for me, arms wide open. That was the day these cropped up and mah decision to return to the apple household justified itself in the fullest” The curve of her mouth tugged downwards as the happiness of the memory wore off.

“That strikes me as being a momentous occasion that everyone could delight in. So why the long face?” I inquired neutrally.

She sighed, “Not everyone, ah’m afraid. Ya see, I gained what every girl mah age wanted most in the world, only to lose the people I valued more than anythin’ in mah life. Mah Ma and Pa were out of town tendin’ to Sweet Apple Acre business like they always did… only they wouldn’t come home to see their daughter’s joy this time. It was only a week later that we received news about the accident on the road” She held back a sob. A choked heave was sent rippling through her chest as she preemptively dried her pre-formed tears. I would have lent her some kind of physical touch to convey my sympathies, but her posturing warned me that she would have just shaken it off.

Her visage darkened intensely, “I was beside mahself in sadness, grief, and eventually… anger. It affected me in ways that I’m quite frankly ashamed to remember. It took a slap upside the head from mah good ol’ granny to make me see that I was becomin’ a bad apple, and that I had to recant mah tempestuous temper unless it consumed me. Mah parents sure as sugar wouldn’t want me to be like that fer the rest of mah life. Meditatin’ on this, I came to realize that I had no right to act bitter about mah parents bein’ unfairly taken away from me. Sometimes these tragedies happen, and there ain’t a thing we can do to prevent ‘em. What good was railin’ against some higher authority gonna do? Nuthin’ but steamed up blood, that’s what. The best I could do was persevere right through the worst of it. If not for mah sake, then for mah parent’s sake, for mah family’s sake, for mah precious Apple bloom’s sake”

She sniffled and shifted her head to look at me, “Whatever spot of trouble you’re goin’ through now. Ya don’t have to go it alone, Zenith. The amazin’ thing about friendship is that it’s supportive. Our woes lose their sting when succored by those who we know are our dearly loved friends. We’re stronger together, ya know? A grove of apple trees resists the storm a mite deal better than a lone one” She intentionally understated, ending her uplifting tale on a humorous note.

“You’re not a half bad storyteller Applejack” I praised lightly, “A little heavy on the stressing of the moral, but not too shabby in its delivery” I added, the lion’s share of my inner critic seeping into my words.

Her nose crinkled in amusement and pronounced the numerous freckles on her cheeks, “Shoot! T’weren’t nearly as intriguin’ as that one with the robots that ya told mah sister and her friends. So long as mine has soaked into yer heart and made ya realize that you should always count yer blessin’s, I’m happy” She leaned back, using her hands as struts to keep her upright.

I laid a hand over hers, feeling the rough and yet feminine quality of her sun tanned flesh, “For what it’s worth… I think your parents did a hell of a job, if they gave rise to someone as saintly as you, Applejack” I complimented, feeling my respect meter for her jump by a whole three hash marks (That’s a lot for somebody to be making with me in such a short time, by my standards).

She beamed at me, a faint blush on her face (or maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me), “Right back at cha, sugarcube” Her eyes flicked to my guitar, being cradled and left unused on my lap, “Say… ya don’t mind if I have a turn, do ya?” She held out an open palm, an anticipatory gleam in her gaze.

I couldn’t see why not. I was out of unoriginal material anyway, “Help yourself” 

I flipped it about and handed it to her by the neck, tossing the plectrum to her next like it was a coin. She thanked me tersely and began to play a country song, adding her voice to the melody and singing about having friends there to lift you up. It transformed into another one of those synchronization events that did its damnedest to seduce me into supplying lyrics for one of the choruses pertaining to myself. But I was much too stubborn for that, so instead there was an awkward lyric-less interval where Applejack had to hum my part in substitute, glaring disapprovingly at me all the while. She concluded the cloying ditty with gusto and was applauded by her friends (I golf clapped). Then Pinkie swiped my guitar from her grasp and began playing the ‘campfire song song’ in earnest.

And that… was basically the high light of my Tuesday night.


⁂


I stretched with a groan as the sun’s piercing rays of light lanced through my thin eyelids and scored a critical hit on my retinas. I lazily rubbed at my face while muttering something impolite about it’s matron under my breath. I opened my eyes, only for the greasy mop atop my head to let loose a few strands, flagrantly obscuring my view of the blandly colored rows of books that had become commonplace after the first few happenings of me being cooped up here. I couldn’t see how Twilight could stand waking up to the same sights and smells day after day and be as sane as she was (Relatively speaking). Perhaps that was just my wanderlust speaking, but Twilight could do well to spruce this place up a bit. A pinch of incense at the entrance, wallpapers that didn’t look like the interior of a tree, and some mood lighting. I doubted that it would do much to remedy her blatant lack of library goers, but at least Spike and I could appreciate it. 

Speaking of the lucky blighter, he insisted against his caretaker’s wishes Wednesday afternoon that it wasn’t necessary that I take over for his duties, which was nice of him. Although I’m fairly sure that his ulterior motive for doing so was that he perceived that his number one assistant titles and all its accolades were threatened by my presence, forcing him to intervene lest he lose face. But it was considerate of him to free up my schedule never the less. To her dismay, Twilight now had no more practical ground that I assist her during the day to base her stipulations on. This was most auspicious, since I needed to finalize my choices for which projects the Princess and I were to pursue without delay. The fate of the country might hang in the balance! But for now… the balance could wait until I got my personal affairs in order.

I blew the hair out of my eyes, only for it to rebelliously flop back down, ‘That settles it. I’m in pressing need of a haircut. I should also ‘pay’ the twins a visit before they start thinking that I’m flaking out on our bet’ That, and I was too scruffy in appearance to present myself to the Princesses for my tastes. I’m not ashamed to admit that I was also very much looking forward to my next session with the sisters regardless, and not just the royal ones. 

I flung the blanket to the side and swung my legs over the cot. I reached under and pulled up my bag, which was filled with priority belongings packed from my mobile home. Digging through one of the inner pockets, I produced a Siam rhinestone that I had removed from the collar of one of Rarity’s male outfits, which she designed for me in Concordia. I then channeled undifferentiated raw magic from my center and into the tip of my index finger before I blew hot air on it. I’m not entirely sure why I did so unorthodox an action, but the reddish aura flared brightly in reaction before reverting to its baseline luminance, meaning that whatever I did worked. I applied my finger to the back of the rhinestone and watched as my aura stuck to it like a wad of gum before winking out. I pressed the fake gemstone against my forehead and felt it adhere to the skin there as effectively as if I glued it on. I checked my reflection in a portable mirror and was pleased to see that I initially got it on center. I could thank my fine tuned sense of spatial awareness for that.

My reasoning for this idea should have been self explanatory. With my improvised ‘focal gem’, no one would be tempted by the need to question how I could cast magic without one. It wouldn’t hold up its disguise under close scrutiny, but it could visually pass me off as a Stellar Mage. I gave the false rock a moderate pinch and tug, nodding in satisfaction when it didn’t so much as budge from its perch. If I ever felt the need to take it off, I could just cast the opposite spell (which would have been blowing on my finger with cool breath. This subconscious knowledge of how to cast useful to mundane degree spells was weird) and have a smooth forehead anew.

Grabbing a scrap of notepaper and an ink pen (thank me very much) from a nearby desk, I wrote a notice to Twilight explaining my absence ahead of time. Desiring some autonomy and more than a little breathing room, I’m ambiguously wrote on the page that I’d be back ‘whenever’. As much as I’d have liked pulling a batman on the bookworm, I’d receive a nagging earful once I got back for ‘running out on her’ and leaving her to her lonesome (Comparatively speaking. Spike has this strange habit of melding into the background a tad too well). 

I fought the urge to grumble as I slapped the paper to the refrigerator in the kitchen via another application of my adhesive spell. Why did I even have to do so? What was I, married to her? Entertaining the notion of being shackled to a woman like that reduces me to a trembling wreck. It wasn’t that I was terrified of commitments per se, but there was a free Mustang in me that needed large, open ranges to roam without fear of being confined.

‘So basically we’re afraid of making serious commitments to the fairer sex’ My sardonic side quipped, grumpy as it was from the happy rays of sunshine streaming into the treebrary in their never ending quest to interrupt my slumber in the worst possible manner.

‘Shut up brain’ I soundlessly grumbled in return. Snarky little pissant.

I snatched a simple banana from a fruit basket on the kitchen counter and was halfway done with scarfing it down as I egressed through the door and into the world. The sleepy town of Magiville was in the same process of waking up, so I thankfully had some time left to book it to the barbers before any wayward ladies spotted me. I hadn’t seen Davenport since the ‘face morphing, but not quite trading places’ incident, but I wasn’t keen on finding on how much he regretted his decision to feel young and stupid again (But mostly stupid). The barbers’ shop was in the same general area as the Town square, and conveniently enough… right across from Aloe and Lotus’s fine establishment. 

I got there within opening time and was immediately serviced by an older Agrarian fellow named Smooth Shave, who owned the place. The rates were reasonable at seven bits for a haircut and ten for the full treatment involving the straight edged razor. I decided to spoil myself and make sure I was as clean cut as I preferred myself. Smooth Shave himself was an affable guy, chatting me up as if I were one of his regulars, though with the exceptional job he doing as his blade swimmingly glided across my skin, it might become true enough. He asked the usual things, how I was, what I took pride in, where I was going with my life, which woman that I was of the opinion had the shapeliest arse (You know, guy stuff). With my hair length buzzed to more manageable levels, I paid the man generously and made a beeline for the spa next door.

I emerged an hour later with a significantly lighter munny pouch and a silly grin on my face that just wouldn’t come off.

“Best three hundred bits (‘plus tip’) I ever spent” I bumptiously murmured to myself, crossing the ‘massage appointment with twins’ section off my bucket list. I aimlessly meandered around town from there, no real agenda in mind yet. 

Something that would apparently rectify itself, for I found myself getting accosted not two minutes later by an angry girl in scrubs with two toned blue and white hair, who vociferously reminded me that I had a dental appointment in the next fifteen minutes that she would not allow me to be late for. She was really aggressive in her mannerisms too, all but literally dragging me throughout town with a strength that belied her smaller frame and Stellar Mage alignment. The emotionally unstable dentist that I cheered up back in the bakery known as Minuette heaved me through the doors of her dental clinic. She escorted me past several nonplussed patrons waiting with outdated magazines in their grasp, before none too gently pushing me onto a chair that occasionally haunted me in some of my lesser nightmares. I gripped the armrests of the deceptively comfortable chair tightly. I didn’t like going to the dentists, you see. The memory of those gaping, bloody holes in my mouth from having all of my wisdom teeth removed in one surgery made me irrationally leery of them.

“Uhm… didn’t you say that I wasn’t due for another ten or so minutes?” I tentatively began, glancing at the clock and indeed seeing that I had time aplenty.

She was undeterred by this, “My previous engagement canceled on me. So I’m bumping you up on the list!” She replied, accompanied by the loud snapping noise of medical gloves conforming to her hands.

“Can I cancel my appointment too?” I meekly asked with a lopsided simper, hoping against hope.

“NOPE!” She cackled with almost sickening glee as she donned a light blue face mask, “Now open wide, big boy! It’s time to see just how poorly you’ve been maintaining your teeth!” Nestled between her fingers were the pointy and reflective metal utensils used to poke and prod for presumably plaque propagated problems.

‘And people wonder why I’m wary of overeager dentists’ Holy crap, this lady knew her cliché scare tactics virtually by heart!

It was all I could do not to squeak out a whimper at the clearly insane woman in front of me. Begrudgingly, I granted her access to my oral cavity (not that kind I prayed!) and wordlessly urged her to get it over with. 

She hemmed and hawed as she examined each tooth and the underlying gum line beneath with a careful precision that assured me that she was at least thorough in the execution of her duties. I couldn’t say that I enjoyed the sensation of her pushing on my teeth or probing the gaps between them with those tools of hers, but there was nothing I could do to lessen my discomfort. Unfortunately, she was another one of those dental professionals that liked to engage in conversation with their instruments shoved a quarter of the way into your uvula.

“Preliminary findings suggest that my earlier assumption about the state of your teeth was unfounded. Congratulations mister Zenith, there aren’t many in this town who manage to meet my expectations on the condition of their oral hygiene, let alone surpass them” She said in an impressed tone.

“Jush Xenith plreash” Was all I could say with my tongue depressed.

She acted like she understood me, “Right, right. So what’s your secret? How are your teeth in such pristine condition? If I didn’t know better, I’d say that they were freshly installed like the seniors in the retirement home swap in their dentures” She remarked, withdrawing the utensils far enough for me to speak normally.

‘Some uncomfortable implications there’ I mused. Was my body even the same as it was back home but altered? Or replaced entirely? I couldn’t say for sure.

“Uhm… brushing after each meal and flossing every night?” I fibbed, having used that addictive mouthwash stuff for most of that.

She nodded with approval, “Healthy habits, and I can see that you’ve been supplementing them with antiseptic wash” 

“Love that stuff” I opined with a tiny chuckle, “And if it keeps my chompers a pearly white, then more power to me”

“I have a multitudinous stock of those up front, if you feel like expanding your bathroom cabinet’s inventory” She helpfully informed me.

“I’d very much like to have a look” I started to lean into an erect position, but she nudged me back down with her forearm.

She held up a finger, as if to reproach me for being hasty, “Not just yet. I still need to burnish the surface of your teeth and provide a long lasting barrier against tartar buildup”

I resisted a tired sigh. Another thing I loathed about the dentists was how in depth even a simple check up and cleaning procedure was. All in all though, it could have gone worst. Mental images of a whirring drill flickered in my mind, causing my stomach to tie itself in a knot. I gulped anxiously once I realized that I wasn’t imagining the sounds of the whirring too. It was only the fact that I could see the dab of bluish paste on the end of the buffer device that kept my heart rate from skyrocketing.

And to make matters more complicated, she insisted on talking through that procedure too! At minimum, she had the courtesy to dip her instrument in that chalky polishing chemical gunk so I could respond between monologues. Apparently, Minuette felt that she was unfairly being labeled as a ‘bad gal’ simply because she was so insistent about people keeping up with her reasonable oral hygiene standards. The reason she was attending sugarcube corner’s bake sale was to advise its customers about which amounts of sugar were appropriate to ingest at any given time. Some had openly accused her of pontificating for extra business (which she saw as being a ridiculous allegation, as she didn’t charge a single bit for primary check ups), while others saw her as an overbearing dental baroness and secretly shunned her. 

Needless to say that second hand reports of the words spoken about her behind closed doors hurt her feelings. Hearing a small and innocent child such as Pound Cake demonize her (even though it was unintentional, and mostly my fault for not holding my tongue) was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She sank to her knees and cried out in an emotional break that just make her the subject of many more conversations. My intervention was ‘well timed’ according to her (this gal seemed to have some issues with outright expressing anything with a semblance of indebtedness), as it gave her some much desired clarity that not everyone was against her. I heeded that she avoided unequivocally thanking me, and while I wasn’t someone who required verbal acknowledgment to justify their actions, it struck me as a bizarre form of self restraint.

“Well maybe people would appreciate you better if they saw you under a different context. From what scant news I've heard of you, you’re kind of a workaholic” I commented, understating what I really heard.

“Of course I am! How can I rest knowing that someone, somewhere, is mismanaging the maintenance of his or her teeth? I have to be on constant vigil to conduct damage control” She stated her dogmatic mandate.

I shook my head in minor dissent, “You shouldn’t be mixing business with pleasure, set aside time for each so that a balance is established. Maybe then your life satisfaction will increase” I was no self helping guru, but even I knew that this woman was overworking herself. Her slightly bloodshot eyes and frazzled hair were evidence enough.

She gave me a confused sidelong glance, “I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Open again please” She instructed. I sank in my tongue and allowed entrance for her to use her mirrored utensil to re-inspect my even shinier teeth from all angles. She hummed in validation once she discerned that she was done.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that stress from ceaselessly concerning yourself with other people’s oral health is ironically, unhealthy for you. It results in frayed nerves that interfere with your abilities as a dentist, and that can lead to a further damaged reputation. If the public wants to neglect their teeth and eat sugary sweets, then that’s their choice. It just means that you can charge extra for when they consequentially develop problems that need more intensive work on your part” Assuming that health care wasn’t socialized here.

She neither confirmed nor denied my prior misgiving, “Your recommendation requires me to turn a blind eye and let people answer only to their saccharine enslaved impulses” She said neutrally, placing her equipment on the rolling metal cart-tray.

“It’s superior to the alternative of asserting yourself into their daily routines, results wise” I countered, “You can’t force them to hold your hand when it comes to their brushing habits any more than you can read their mail for them. You can technically do it, but it’s interloping in their lives to a frown worthy extent, and you’re in this business to promote happy smiles aren’t you?”

“A smile is the natural byproduct of a healthy mouth, but it’s not the sole aim of my profession” Her eyes narrowed by a centimeter, “Besides, I’ve heard about you as well, Zenith. They say that the sight of an upward curl on your face is as rare as a personal visit from the Princess, if not more so. Who is a stone face like you to dictate to me what makes people smile?” She pointed out with an imperceptible sneer in her voice.

Well she had me there.

“Hmmf, I know that I’d definitely attempt to smile more often if people didn’t meddle in my business so frequently” I evenly replied without missing a beat, “I’m just relating to you what stance I take on your predicament and offer my own advice. Whether or not you take it into account is your choice… just as it is for the people of this town to regard or disregard yours”

She huffed in ambivalent beguilement, “Your rhetorical skills are a refreshing change of pace from my usual gauche company” She said as she removed her gloves and mask, discarding of them in a nearly overflowing biohazard labeled refuse bin. 

On her hands was the Mana mark of a half emptied hourglass (And I don’t just say that because I’m a pessimist-realist. Gravity naturally causes the grains of sand to empty from the upper chamber of the glass container into the lower chamber). While I had a decent idea as to how it was relevant to her work, I wanted to determine how close to the mark (pun intended) I was.

“So how do those hourglasses relate to the dentistry field?” I struck up to renewed conversation.

She looked so happy to oblige me, “It’s hard to tell at first glance, but those are the micronized versions that only count down by a full minute. They’re used as indicators for how long you should brush each row of teeth” She explained with a drone in her vocal timbre, as though she’d rehearsed it too many times, “And also because I like to keep a tight schedule”

“I’ve noticed” I dryly retorted, “So are we all finished here?”

“For the most part, yes” She gave the okay signal for me to sit up, “However, there’s some paperwork that we need to sort out up front. All first timers need to keep records with me so I might plan future appointments for every six months in advance”

That didn’t conform to my envisioned calendar of probable events, “I get the feeling that I’ll be out of country by the time six months rolls around” I murmured.

She shrugged, “I never said that they were mandatory. But I must know… why would you ever leave the sanctity of Arcania’s borders? The outside world is fraught with danger!” She scowled at me in non-comprehension.

I couldn’t help but chortle at that, much to her indignant confusion, “This town resides a stone’s throw away from a forest absolutely teeming with all kinds of hostile life forms, and yet you think that it’s the outside world’s dangers that are the immediate concern? That’s comedic, that is”

“Hey! I have faith in their Majesties’ government that they’ll protect us from anything that dares to rear its ugly head in our beautiful home. Besides, what would you know about the dangers of the Neverfree, tough guy?” She asked me, crossing her arms like every skeptical woman in this town did when they were unconvinced.

‘Damn, I don’t have the scars to prove anything’ Sometimes, dynamic healing can be a real let down in the persuasive boasting department.

“More than you’d speculate” I said, not caring whether she believed me or not. It’s fortunate that I’m typically humble. Otherwise I’d feel like I had egg on my face right then.

“Uh huh. So what’s your Mana mark then?” She pointed to my shoulder area, covered up by my gray tee shirt lacking a logo.

‘Crap, I was hoping she wouldn’t ask about that in return’ Quick! Gotta make up something mildly believable!

“You’d mistake it for an elongated, arched horseshoe at first” I thought expeditiously, “But upon closer inspection, you’d see a star embedded within” I weaved a plausible lie. Though it made me ponder on what mark I could have had, if only for curiosity’s sake.

“Yeah? And what does it say about you?” She inquired, sounding moderately attentive.

‘That I’m talented at talking out of my ass and getting away with it?’ I wanted to say, but wisely refrained.

“It could mean anything, really. My potential isn’t strictly defined by some mark on my skin” I propounded.

“Interesting” Minuette said in a way that I couldn’t reliably decipher, “Well then, let’s get you squared away with so I can attend to my other no doubt anticipative clients” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she herded me to the front desk of her clinic. 

I signed some papers that I barely read (to ensure that I wasn’t selling my soul or anything), before politely requesting that she show me the ‘good hard stuff’ that she hoarded in the back. She frowned at my word choice (mumbling something about that being Berry Punch’s thing) but acquiesced once I patted the enlarged girth of the munny pouch resting inconspicuously on my hip. Minuette’s stock of mouthwashes was impressive, I counted no less than forty seven distinct flavors and dozens of different hues for each. Some of the text describing the flavors were kind of girly, but despite that, I was experiencing magical mouthwash nirvana. I left Minuette’s place of business with a hefty assortment of liquid containers stuffed into a burlap sack that I managed to barter into our monetary exchange.

‘I have officially changed my mind. This is the best three hundred bits I’ve ever spent! And to top that off, no tip necessary!’ Not that I was slandering Aloe and Lotus’s considerable skill as masseuses. I felt limber and fit as a fiddle! They’ve more than earned my recurring patronage.

Once I deposited my mouthwashes at home, I began to brainstorm ideas for what I could do, or else I would have to report back in to my unofficial friendship parole officer Sparkle. Ever since she swore that she’d right things between us, she’s become a repetitious fixture in my life lately. ‘Hi Zenith! Mind if I join your reading space? Got room for an extra crossword puzzle player? In the mood to be my test subject? I promise on my honor as an Element that this one’s harmless!’. Urrgh! It’s enough to reduce an asocial man to a head pounding migraine just thinking about it. Even though it would have the same effect as sipping run of the mill water, I needed a drink to steady my nerves.

I stopped in my random wandering on the outskirts of town as a light bulb switched on in my head, ‘There’s an idea! Let’s enjoy a few with Lyra. Plus, she did say that she’d be the one buying…’ I’m not so old fashioned that I’ll turn down an offer from the opposite sex for a drink. I’ll just have to be on the lookout to be sure I don’t take full advantage of it.

A half hour of strolling over to her cozy cabin nestled in the woods later saw me knocking on her door. Because it was noonish, there were no indicators such as active lamplights on the inside that would announce her presence. I caught her at an expedient time in spite of this, since she opened up looking like she had just gotten out of the shower, dressed in a light green bathrobe with a damp towel wrapped encompassing her head and everything.

A delighted smile graced her lips as she saw me standing there, “Well if it isn’t my Snark Knight? What brings you to my humble, log constructed castle this side of the woods, good sir?”

I grinned, deciding to play along, “I was aspiring to seek out her most exquisite highness, in order to ascertain if she would engage in a spot of alcoholic beverages and general merrymaking with yours truly” I proclaimed with a kneeling bow, clipping my non accented voice to sound more elegant and sophisticated.

She tittered, finding my Elizabethan acting most invigorating, “Rise, my noble Knight, and take solace in the fact that your lady gladly accepts your invitation… as soon as she finishes drying off from her favored, unwinding bath time soak” She broke character as she turned away from me to tussle with the towel tangled in her mane, whipping it off to expose her minty toothpaste like hair. I hastily made to pull the door shut and look at something else once she shamelessly took off the bathrobe in my direct line of sight. I will say this though. She had some superb assets.

Lyra kind of reminded me of Rainbow Dash in that she didn’t bother with styling her hair, only brushing it enough to be presentable so she didn’t go out into the world with a coiffure that could double as a bird’s nest. Normally my judgmental side would see that as a sign of a sloppy life conduct and commence blasting the warning alarms. But Lyra was special enough for me to overlook that little tidbit. I’m more tolerant of unorganized people than most, especially when they have some extremely redeeming qualities like a charismatic personality and an enchantingly sweet voice. If it weren’t for the fact that I could self diagnose hexes automatically, I’d suspect that she put a spell on me.

Lyra emerged from her home wearing jeans and her green patched up hoodie. Apparently she had taken Rarity’s advice to get the worn thing repaired. It now looked as good as new, although it retained a majority of its character in the form of slightly lighter threads where the patchwork was located. She looked more or less the same as the first few times I met her.

“I noticed that you didn’t partake in the show I put on for you. Not sure whether I should be esteemed or insulted” She noted aloud, fixing me with an odd stare.

“I respect a woman’s modesty” Was my moralistic response, “Even if her enticing showmanship is rather tempting to watch” I added, complimenting her in any event.

“And there are some women I know who believe chivalry to be dead” She remarked with raw amusement, “You’re either an exceedingly rare catch or I’m a very lucky girl”

‘What am I, a fish? But I’ll admit that she’s certainly reeled me in’ Better come up with some memorable banter to stay on par with her.

“Not to flatter myself, Lyra…” My grin became rakish, “…but luck has nothing to do with it”

She clicked her tongue and murmured something even my well honed hearing couldn’t listen pick up on, “C’mon you clean cut Casanova, I’ll show you over to the Bawdy Bar”

How nice of her to take notice of my haircut. It was peculiar how she said nothing about the fake focal gem though.

I made a sweeping motion with my arm, pointing in front of us, “Ladies fir- ack!” She forwent the formalities and snatched me by that arm, towing me towards wherever this strangely named bar was.

‘What is it with women dragging me around today?’ I opined in mild dismay to myself as I was unceremoniously paraded into the thatch roofed, commercial area outskirts of the settlement.

The Bawdy Bar was… difficult to pin down my determinate opinion about. On the outside, it looked like your average dive bar in the west side of town with a lit sign above the door and dark colored glass obscuring what was going on inwardly. Which is funny, because it really was on the western edge of Magiville, well within viewing range of the fruit orchards of Sweet Apple Acres and a small distance removed from the local town schoolhouse. The rest of the bar’s surroundings didn’t feel anywhere near as seedy, but there was something naggingly disreputable about this place. Lyra was not deterred by the discouraged expression on my face, and she all too enthusiastically tossed me through the doors with a push of her magic when I tried resisting.

The interior of the bar was… a marked improvement in comparison to my lowered expectations from seeing the exterior. It was no Gemmed Tankard in its familial friendliness per se, but it was straightforward in its approach. There was a mahogany bartender’s counter with bronze metallic rimming, where I saw a familiar purple haired woman cleaning drinking glasses to a mirror shine. Pull back levers for beers and lagers were prominent on the right end of the counter, while glass rows of bottles containing all sorts of spirits dominated the entirety of the wall behind her. Private leather upholstered booths lined the walls for larger groups to enjoy their privacy without having to seclude themselves in the back, where smaller tables were set up. A stage could be found in the middle that looked like it would be perfect for drunken karaoke nights, or a professional singer that could hold a tune and wouldn’t stagger about like they were ready to keel over into a puddle of their own puke. At this slower time of day, there was only a trifling crowd of customers in the bar.

Even with all the differences to the one in the Krystal Kingdom, it made me miss a one of a kind adventurous, swashbuckling woman.

‘Great. Now I can’t even enter a tavern without reminiscing about my older memories with Daring’ Sure she tried soliciting me while under the influence of her booze induced haze, but I had a fun experience none the less. I put those thoughts on the backburner for now, since it would have been rude to Lyra. I still found the idea of dating multiple women at the same time to be marginally overwhelming in some regards.

The barkeep waved us over, “Welcome to my establishment! I’m Berry Punch. Park your keisters wherever you please and I’ll be right with ya!” She greeted us with a genuinely welcoming attitude. The inner critic tallied a few more points on my ratings board for this place. While this place seemed somewhat short staffed, it showed excellent regard for the customer so far.

We did just that, taking a couple of seats by the counter for faster service, “So what can I get for the cute couple?” Berry Punch asked with an ingratiating, but kindly smile.

Lyra spluttered and turned beet red, fighting for a proper rejoinder. All of her previous bravado melting once someone other than myself invoked the intimate existence our relationship. 

Meanwhile, I felt vaguely insulted by the cuddly adjective, “Cute? That’s not an apposite word I’d use to describe Lyra or myself… can you instead try zesty, perchance?” I requested.

She nodded brusquely as she put away the bulb shaped glass she was polishing, “Well sure… if you two were food flavorings, and not a cute couple” She countered as she wittingly stuck by her original opinion, “So what can I getcha?” She repeated.

“I’d fancy an explanation for why this place is named the Bawdy Bar, when it’s clearly not a strip joint” I humorously commented, noting the lack of metal poles for visually alluring exhibitions. Maybe Pinkie had a monopoly on the supplier for those, among other contraptions.

“Oh that?” She snorted, “That’s because it was a less invective name than the Bitch’s Brew, which was my original choice. The Mayor didn’t take too kindly to the title when I went to her to get the building permit approved, and she required that I rename it as something more ‘tactfully tasteful’, as she basically commanded me. Unless I wanted the permit revoked, I had to comply. So I tried different combinations of catchy words so the name was easy to memorize” She spun her tale behind the name of her joint.

“Is Bawdy supposed to be a pun?”

Her shoulders hitched upwards, “If that’s how you want to see it. But it’s also that way because I know quite a few excessively naughty jokes that will have your lungs turn purple from laughter. Some of which Big Mac of all people taught me” She disclosed with a snicker.

Lyra finally found her voice, “Is it happy hour by any chance?” 

Berry swiveled her head to her and smiled at her like she had asked a silly question, “Well that depends hon, are you feeling happy?” She answered with her own question.

Lyra gave me a sidelong glance and also smiled, “I am. And I owe this big lug here a few drinks because of that” She gestured to me with her thumb.

I pretended to be self conscious, “Stop it. You’ll make me blush” I told her, eliciting a short giggle from her at my antics.

Berry’s smile broadened at our exchange, “Well in that case, thirty bits gets you two all you can drink. Though I will have to cut your intake off if I feel that you’ve had enough servings. Safety reasons, you see” She politely warned us. How responsible of her.

Lyra slapped a duo of coins on the counter, “Here. I hope you’re easygoing with your standards on what constitutes ‘enough’ alcohol”

Berry scooped in the money, examining us as she did so, “I can safely judge what your limits will be just by getting a decent look at you. You can probably handle about two or three pints worth, if you pace yourself” Her eyes scanned me a lot longer than they did Lyra, “Hmm… I know your face from somewhere, don’t I?”

I was ready for this eventuality, “Most likely. You first saw me at my welcoming party in Sweet Apple Acres perhaps? I know that I saw you leaning on Big Mac for support once you both had dropped out of the drinking contest” I called to mind. The romantic nature of their relationship should have been more evident to me back then, given how she had nuzzled her face into his shirt as they made a beeline for the restrooms to vacate their stomachs.

She made a pleased humming noise as I brought up the strong and silent man, “Mmm… I love that dreamy guy” She said, before refocusing on me, “So that was you who drank Dash under the table? That’s no small feat in view of how much that crazy speedster can put away. You must have had a killer headache the morning following your victory all the same, still” She jestingly chuckled.

“I don’t believe I can be afflicted with hangovers from indulging in any volume of alcohol. I seem to have a natural resistance or tolerance to it (‘Pink elephantine phantoms notwithstanding’). My system processes it the same as if it were any regular liquid” I truthfully refuted and informed her. Even if the more fitting word ‘immunity’ came to mind.

Berry’s eyebrows shot towards the roof before a devious smirk grew on her features, “Really? Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

I looked down at my munny pouch and back at her, “I’m a tad hesitant to do that… I have no idea where most of these coins have been” I quipped. 

Berry Punch just rolled her eyes before reaching under her counter for a big black bottle filled with an inky purple fluid held back by a cork. She plunked it on the surface of the counter with a loud clink that punctuated the lack of lively chatter in the room, “This is a cocktail concoction that I’ve been working on in private. It combines so many things that it could be classified as an entire bar in and of itself. Feeling man enough to prove your fustian claim?” She challenged me.

“What are the stakes? Other than the relevant weight of my future claims?” I inquired, wanting to make this a real wager.

She scoffed, but gave in after my piercing red eyes bored into hers, “If you can chug this bad boy down in one sitting and not immediately face plant on the floor, I’ll set up a generously prepaid tab for you here for a full three weeks worth of visits. If you can’t, then you’ll have to fork over fifty bits so I can replenish the stock that I used to create this. Don’t be insulted when I state that I’m betting against you… but I don’t find the chances of you enduring this to be favorable” She boasted, vaunting her own mixology talents in the process.

Before I could answer in the affirmative, I felt Lyra tap me on the shoulder, “Zenith? Are you sure you should be doing this?” She stared at the bottle nervously. I couldn’t figure out why, it’s not like she had to drink from it.

“No, but that prepaid tab is a very captivating incentive. Appreciate the touching concern though” I audaciously faced Berry, “Bring it on”

The bartender slash owner shrugged, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you” She poured me a large mug of the potent smelling, frothy drink, pushing it towards me, “Helluva drink to start off with, but it’s your body, not mine” She coolly stated the obvious, seemingly to preserve the idle talk she had established with us.

I pinched a wooden stirring rod used mainly for piercing cherries or other foodstuffs between my fingers and dipped it into the cup. I was slightly disturbed when it came out looking significantly more shriveled than when it went under.

‘This takes picking your own poison to looney tunes level insanity. Meh. It’s not the stupidest thing I’ve ever contemplated doing’

I nursed the mug to my nose, inhaling the incredibly pungent scent, “Well then…” I raised it in salute, “Bottoms up” I declared, before fearlessly quaffing it down like a maverick. 

Wow was that a mistake! It was like gargling firewater that was actually on fire. The urge to hack and cough was mighty powerful, but I ignored it through sheer force of will. Tears streamed from my eyes in attenuated rivers and an odd sensation tickled my ears as I painfully gulped down the last mouthful, only feeling the tiniest bit vindicated when I saw the two women near me with their jaws practically joined with the floor.

I wiped my mouth with a forearm to stealthily suppress an airy belch, “Now there’s a drink that could strip the paint off walls” I gave Berry a lopsided grin, “Are you gonna uphold your end of the deal? My liver will still hate me for it, but I’ll be much obliged”

She regained her composure after I addressed her, “How about that? Welp! A deal is a deal, and I am a woman of my word” She conceded, “Besides, this more or less guarantees me another regular, and an interesting one at that”

“I’ll just have a mint and rum please” Lyra asked, not taking her ongoing shocked eyes off of me.

“Sure thing” Berry replied, mixing the suddenly glowing Lyrist her requested beverage.

‘Lyra prefers Mojitos? Not surprised in the least. Man, I never realized how attractive she is at this angle’ I shook my head vigorously afterwards. Where had that come from? Lyra’s magnitude of physical attractiveness wasn’t something that fluctuated during the time that I’ve known her. I peered down at the puny puddle of drink left in my mug. Either I was having a recurrence of what happened at Vinyl’s, or I was thinking with the wrong head again.

Ultimately dismissing this, I poured myself another mug from the bottle of what I decided to dub the Berry Blaster and lifted it in a toasting gesture, which Lyra reciprocated with me.

“To us!” I dedicated to our as of yet, unproven but unbreakable relationship, “May we forge new memories that we can always smile on in retrospect”

“Hear, hear!” She clinked her drink against mine as we commenced with the carefree carousing.


⁂


The first sensation that rebooted in my addled brain was unfortunately… pain perception. To put it into perspective, it was as if somebody had jammed a hundred white hot fishhooks into my brain and was yanking and jerking at the line. A second killer symptom of my already spoiled waking mood accompanied the roaring jackhammer in my head in the form of garish light. The sunlight that focused itself smack dab on my constricting eyeballs did so with an intensity that I’ve never known before. My mouth felt dehydrated and my tongue about as smooth as sandpaper. I discovered what hangover breath smelled like, and it was rank. Speaking of foul smells, my clothes had enough booze saturation in them that I feared that they might ignite. Overall, this ranked near the top of the least agreeable awakenings I’ve ever had the displeasure of going through. So much for the legendary Trifect’s immunity.

Cracking open my eyelids to see where I had wound up was a mistake that was met with even more searing retinal pain. Slamming them closed, I groaned ruefully and haphazardly tried to recollect my bearings through my other disrupted senses. The signals that flooded my receptors were mercifully there and in gear, though they weren’t arriving at the cognition center properly. I meticulously sorted through and analyzed what I did know concerning my circumstances. The air was heavily saturated with the smell of pine and pancakes, I could hear the low sizzling of melted butter on a stove pan, and I could feel that the bed I was sprawled on was a few sizes too cramped for my liking. I quickly pieced it together that I had stayed the night at Lyra’s cabin. In all likelihood I was in no condition to safely return to my home in the sky, nor would she in good conscience let me stumble back to Twilight’s (Where the abstinent bookworm would undoubtedly chew my ass out for my foolish lapse in judgment).

“Grrraaahh, my poor head” I complained as I rubbed at my pulsating, sore temples. Even the action of speaking hurt like a mother, “I could really use one of Dee’s vials of rejuvenation right now”

“Who’s Dee?” Came Lyra’s melodic voice from somewhere to my right, accompanied by the noise of a spatula scraping against metal to flip a pancake.

I evaded the potentially loaded question by credibly groaning again and cupping at my ears, “Not… so loud, please” Having both acute Valkyrian hearing and a hangover was a match made in hell.

I oscillated my knuckles against my eyes and groaned for the nth time that morning, “Dear Lord. It’s like I skipped the pleasantly buzzed stage and went straight to the ‘waking up at a stranger’s place with a debilitating headache’ part”

“Really Zenith? You think of me as strange?” Lyra said with faux hurt, she still sounded pleasant to my currently oversensitive ears. 

“In my defense… we’re all a little bit strange in some aspects” I bilked her innocent indictment as I slowly got up from Lyra’s rinky dink bed that only her smaller than average frame could fit. My opened eyes still had to adjust to the light and my equilibrium fought to stabilize itself as I wobbled like a sandwich that was piled on too high.

Her lovely laughter filled my still ringing ears as she beheld my pathetic display, “Guess you weren’t as resistant to alcohol as you thought you were! Albeit Berry Punch did admit that the concentration percentile in that drink was potent enough to inebriate a Trifect and flat out hammer an average drinker into the ground, so I guess that was a given” 

She stifled another chortle of laughter with her arm, “I should get you drunk more often. You’re a pretty fun guy when your reservations are uninhibited. Heavy as hell when I’m guiding you back to my home to crash, but fun”

Was she implying that I was normally boring to be around?

“I am plenty of fun when I’m sober…” I protested with a spurious trembling lip, “...just not as outgoing or spontaneous. But I’m getting off topic here. How badly did I embarrass myself? There’s a huge gap in my memory and it worries me” I wanted a damage report, stat.

She waved the spatula at me chidingly, “Oh quit whining, you big baby. Berry Punch actually found the shenanigans that arose and lasted long into the night to be so entertaining to watch, that she gave us a couple complementary vials of that rejuvenation stuff you mentioned and asked us to come back any time. She also lent me a voucher for a couple’s retreat in Vanclover for some reason” She touched upon as an afterthought.

I ignored that last morsel of news, “You have a vial!? I beseech you! Gimme gimme gimme!” I made needy retracting motions with my fingers. 

She rolled her eyes and fished out a vial from the inside of her tightly wrapped, plain dyed apron before lobbing it over to me with an underhand throw. I popped the seal and guzzled down the green contents inside like one of those Lilliputian energy drink bottles, wincing at its fresh cut grass taste. It took roughly fifteen seconds for the effects to kick in, and another minute for my headache and other negative symptoms gradually receding until they were nil. As extra benefits, it purged me of my hangover breath and empowered me with an instant boost of energy, as if I had directly injected epinephrine into my ticker. My pupils dilated as I underwent a rush of exuberance that expeditiously evaporated the dour fog that had clouded my spirit.

Inhaling deeply of the scrumptious smelling food that Lyra was cooking up, I grabbed a miniature dining chair and pulled myself up to the kitchenette table. 

Not wanting to give off the impression that I expected her to feed me, I echoed my earlier inquiry, “Would you kindly fill in the blanks as to what I did last night? Everything after our toast is shrouded in a haze of amnesia” I told her. Try as I might, I just couldn’t recall what went down in the Bawdy Bar.

Lyra looked at the ceiling in thought, “Where should I begin?” She tapped at her chin with the pommel of the spatula, “Well… after we toasted each other, I launched into a string of questions about the marvelous world you came from. A lot of what you revealed to me only presented me with more questions…” She shook with girlish excitement, “…but it’s so fascinating that I was left wanting to learn more!”

“Oh… that doesn’t seem too bad” Maybe my fears were misconceived.

She continued, “Then you started acting different, but in a new and interesting way. You clambered on top of that center stage and started reciting what sounded like poetry in iambic pentameter… you slurred a lot of the words though, so I couldn’t figure out what the heck you were talking about”

My palm eagerly kissed my face, “I quoted Shakespearian sonnets… and didn’t even manage to do it justice. I’m so sorry that you had to hear that. I’m miles better with prose” I apologized to her, massaging the bridge of my nose in my self targeted disappointment. I wasn’t even that much of a fan of Shakespeare to begin with. I must be a completely dissimilar person when I’m intoxicated.

“Oh no no! You were incredibly mesmerizing up there. The growing audience was practically eating out of your hands after you entranced them with your mastery over grandiloquent enunciation. And I found your baritone singing tenor to be enchanting too!” She honestly complimented with the goal of making me feel at ease, only for it to have no effect on my obstinate self.

“I sang as well!?” I moaned crossly as fragments of my waking headache began to reemerge and reintegrate themselves into my torment. Drunken Zenith is sacrilegious to the standards of his own abstemious self. Even if Lyra found him to be charming, that wasn’t a part of myself that I would be rediscovering anytime soon.

“You sure did! You weren’t terrible at holding a tune either. I think it went something like this…” 

Without further ado, Lyra began a combination of singing slash humming the lines to what was unmistakably ‘It’s Not Unusual’ by Tom Jones, swaying her hips back and forth as she stacked the cooked pancakes on a silver platter. It may have been a trick of the light at this angle or my vivid imagination playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn that she was wearing skintight peach colored pants. I wrote it off as unimportant compared to the matters at hand.

‘I sang that in baritone? But the original was done in tenor!’ I nitpicked in consternation. Drunken Zenith apparently couldn’t care less about staying faithful to the original version.

Lyra finished her rendition with a dramatic flair as she carried the platter of pancakes to the table using an application of her levitation magic. She made a show of circling the tiny table, pausing as she passed by me to stroke my hair with her hand as she set brecky on the table. I looked at her backside in confusion and felt my heart seize in shock. Lyra wasn’t wearing skintight pants to go with the cooking apron like I had assumed.

She wasn’t wearing anything in fact.

Other than the smock, she was dressed in only her birthday suit, freely baring all for me to see. I averted my eyes automatically as she took her own seat across from me, a devious grin plastered on her face.

“What’s wrong, Zenith? It’s nothing you haven’t seen the other day” She drawled in an all too coy, playful voice. 

‘Yesterday I wasn’t close enough to make out that she was mint colored down there too’ I sarcastically thought in retort.

She taunted me further by helping herself to her share of breakfast, tantalizingly pouring on the maple syrup and moaning in delight the moment she her teeth sank down into the crisp skin. This woman was a mischievous minx, rendering me both aroused and hungry at the same time with her seductive behavior. Her overly smug expression prompted me to put up a courageous resistance. I carved into the remaining stack of pancakes with her spare utensils and inhaled them like a human vacuum cleaner. I smirked to myself once I saw her expression falter by just the slightest amount, either at my perceptibly feigned ignorance, or my sloppy eating habits I couldn’t tell.

She scowled, “You have got to be the most ascetic man I have ever met. The only way I could be any more obvious was if I drew a written invitation on my ass!” She spouted in frustration. I supposed that it was the former.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m of the opinion that you have a magnificent posterior” I gruffly placated her as I swallowed a chunk of syrup soaked flat cake.

She didn’t look too amused, “Glad to know that some part of me doesn’t repulse you. Are you sure you don’t bat for the same team?” She tilted her head to me in question. Her tone was spurned enough to indicate that she wasn’t kidding about doubting my orientation.

I nearly choked on a wad of pancake, coughing and pounding on my chest as a means of clearing my throat, “W-what!? NO! How could you even think that?” I was unequivocally straight, thank you very much!

She held up hands in mock surrender, “Can you blame a gal for reaching hasty conclusions? You passed out last night before we could have some fun under the sheets” She said with a crestfallen pout.

‘When was Lyra this horny? She ain’t no unicorn’ I was unsure whether I should have been enkindled or aghast at this revelation.

“Okay, two problems with that” I extended my index finger, “First… I’m not the kind of guy who looks around for a casual roll in the hay. I may be a man, and therefore expressly susceptible to the temptations of the flesh. But I do a decent job of keeping my immoral hands to myself, and I’d prefer to keep that record untarnished”

My thumb shot out, “Second… your bed is an inadequate size for that kind of aerobic activity anyway” 

Lyra sniggered, “I can agree with your last point. But what if I told you that I had a solution to our mutual dilemma that keeps both parties satisfied?”

I stared at her skeptically, “I’ll hear what you have to say about this solution, but if I feel like I have to jeopardize my integrity for it…” I let my sentence hang in the air.

She shook her head, “It shouldn’t” Her focal gem sparked to life as a cabinet in her dresser slid open and a curious translucent stone was floated out and over to us. It was the size of a billiard ball and just as spherical. Its outer coloration was a deep magenta, but there was a bright pinkish glow emanating from the center that I found hard to look away from.

“This…” The aforementioned object in discussion landed in Lyra’s palm, “…is what is known as an Eroti-stone. As you could probably guess, its function is to immerse the user or users in a scenario of their mutual liking where they can ‘enjoy’ themselves, and vent off a little steam before it builds till it becomes intolerable. It works by creating a mental bridge that doesn’t take away physical sensation. All the joys of sensual touch and none of the risks or hang ups that happen after” She explained, clutching it close to reverently, “They aren’t terribly common. I got this one at an enchanter’s emporium in Concordia for a few hundred bits. It took care of my baser needs when I was still under the Night Terror’s curse” She came clean to me with a downcast countenance on her face.

“So it stimulates you mentally?” She nodded a yes, “And allows two people to relish each other’s company without technically getting physical?” I got another nod in the affirmative.

“Before I give you my answer, will you tell me what I mean to you?”

She blinked, not expecting me to ask that, “You’re the one who unshackled me from the metaphorical chains of being enslaved to a horrific curse. You were the sudden burst of light in my life when all else seemed like it would remain forever dark. My justification for hoping in an otherwise hopeless situation. The reason why I’m even able to make some people remember me for longer than five minutes. You mean more to me than words could possibly convey, Zenith” She spoke from the heart, “And I also think… that you’re quite witty, caring, and handsome… on top of being my rescuer. I’d be lying not only to you about my attraction, but also to myself, if I denied that I fancied the idea of being one of your girls” She confessed, absentmindedly stroking at the length of her arm. While I was honored that she felt this way towards me after such a short time, I needed to confirm its level of prurience.

“And is this attraction towards me amorous in nature? Or lascivious?” I put her on the spot, scanning her for even a minuscule hint of deceit in her eyes or vocal patterns. I forwent using magic to assist me in this. I intuitively knew Lyra better than anyone else, having visited the depths of her innermost being. Although it wasn’t to the degree that I could instinctively read her thoughts, any more than she could read mine.

She met my gaze firmly and unwaveringly, “Mere words are insufficient for the veracity of my reasoning” She paraphrased my statement to her in the mirror, “So instead of verbally convincing you, I’ll just have to get my argument across this way”

She leaned over the table, seized my head with her dainty, soft hands, and laid one of the tenderest kisses I had ever received on my lips. The kiss itself tasted strongly of her punchy crème de menthe mouthwash coupled with the sweetness maple syrup, and while it wasn’t the greatest combination of flavors, it was delectable none the less. We detached from each other and fell back into our seats, sucking in sharp puffs of air after the extended duration of the kiss sapped us of our breath.

I hummed thoughtfully once I fully recovered, “You utilize a very unorthodox method of persuasion, Lyra” I smiled to alleviate her nervous fear of rejection, “But… you can consider me convinced”

She beamed back happily, no words needing to be passed between us, “So what was your answer going to be?” She asked after a minute, her eyes settling on the stone sphere.

“I’ve come to realize that I have figuratively held your feet to the fire, Lyra” I pushed the stone aside and pressed my lips against hers, caressing the back of her head with my hand. Her surprised squeak soon morphed into a throaty moan of delight, “Allow me to make it up to you... vigorously” I growled in a husky tone, literally sweeping her off her feet and carrying her somewhere where we could do this properly. 

The door to the cabin shut with a low sounding click as I exited the cabin an indeterminate amount of time later. I left Lyra soundly asleep under the sheets of her diminutive bed with an adorable smile on her pleased face. I penned a note and dropped it by her nightstand before I took my leave. The parchment piece explained in advance that she had a special place in my affections, and that I would love to hear her play the Lyre for me again sometime in the future. I gently pecked her on the cheek in goodbye so that I wouldn’t rouse her from her slumber. Not that I really expected her to be awake until after she had rested herself. Our comprehensive ‘activities’ (which proved to be a learning experience for us both) had worn her out to complete exhaustion, and she was out cold by the end of them. 

In case one was wondering, we did not go all the way, stopping shy of home base. I did go through the task of thoroughly satisfying her in my efforts however, so I don’t think she had any complaints about that one reasonable reservation. I repeatedly fended off her attempts to return the favor; politely apprising her that it would have risked crossing the one line that we had only recently parked ourselves onto. A line that I refused to pass over, as I would be honor bound to put a ring on her wedding finger and a white veil over her golden eyes. That… was a commitment which I was just not ready for, not with this impending prophecy of uniting the world against some unspoken evil, dark omens of arms buildup and war looming on the horizon, and finally the hampering weight of my own insecurities about being capable of caring for those whom I love.

I stood on the front deck of the cabin with my eyes on the orange skies. I had spent more time with Lyra than I initially estimated, for the Sun was not far away in its course from setting in the sky. With a flap of my wings, I immersed myself in that blue welkin, the briskness of the air chilling my nostrils in a vivifying fashion. The cloud cover was obscuringly thick enough that I chanced the possibility of somebody spotting me in the air as I flew back to my cloud house to change into new clothes. It was also so I could consolidate my defense project choices to bring to the capital city the day before the sleepover, which was the day after next. I pondered about the relationships I was fostering with the good people (especially some of the ladies, if you know what I mean) of Magiville. Almost all of them, with the exception of Golden Harvest, were courteous and approachable… and any crises between them were resolved in such a manner that it regularly improved their friendships afterwards. Such a congruous concept was familiar to me, but to see its influence in action for myself was educational. 

I made it home (was not quite feeling the word, no matter how frequently I used it) at a hurried pace and to employ the services of my shower, as well as my robes and their accompanying armaments for another occasion. I hadn’t gotten them fixed by Rarity yet (I did enact measures to wash them clean until then, scenting them with cologne withal), but they were still serviceable. Burnt and torn in some areas, but more than adequate for the purposes that I had in mind. I also used that unburdened time to explore my Master Suite bedroom, which was simply put, extravagantly opulent.

Stepping out onto my porch with a languid stretch, I took a long walk off of the short pier, falling through the air until my wings flared out to slow my descent. The grassy space underneath my home was open enough for me to conveniently spar with my shadow opponents. The clearings between the copses of apple trees at the Acres were sufficient when I was working there, but Applejack didn’t like me training so repetitiously where Apple bloom and her equally naïve friends could stumble upon me and put themselves in danger. It cut into my opportunities to hone my fighting skills, but I placed a higher emphasis on their safety over my combat priorities. The tall knee length turf that composed the glade screened in the shade cast from my sunlit house was not a bother, now that I wearing my boots. 

Channeling my magic from my core, I shaped several indistinguishable shadow men and filed them in front of me for imminent modification and behaviorally adjustment. I didn’t arm them right off the bat, taking time to deliberate what weapons they would be using against me. After facing the fire mage, I charged one or two of them enough juice to enable them the ability to cast projections that would imitate the fast fireballs that Phoenix flung at me like a madman back in the Neverfree. Six of them were equipped with your standard swords, spears, daggers, and axes and given the aggressive mannerisms of an infantryman. The last three I made into crossbowmen so I could replicate the expected conditions that I might face out in the world.

The next part was setting up the scenario. I commanded the ranged fighters to hang in the rear while the melee soldiers took a closer position near to me. I spread them out reasonably well so that I was more or less surrounded by them, but not ganged up upon. While the shadowy men were enthralled to me no matter what, I had the presence of mind to give them enough leeway to think and react like a soldier. They wouldn’t attack mindlessly and would calculate their chances of scoring a hit on me, which would register as an uncomfortable sting on my body if they succeeded, so I was encouraged to be nimble and quick on my feet.

Not every scenario went the same way whenever I trained. I would either set up an objective of sorts where I would have to capture a point by myself and hold it against the odds, or where they would have to protect a VIP shadow from myself. My rate of success was moderately high, but I wouldn’t content myself with just that, so I pushed myself to make the challenges more dynamic so it would force me to either fight harder… or fight smarter, often by using the environment to my advantage. My shadow clones almost surprised me with how on the ball they were when I commanded them to be. They would set up ambushes for me when my weapons were undrawn and score first blood, or think like a hive unit and attempt to outflank me in tandem, which worked many a time when I was deadlocked with the ones I gave additional strength.

Not that I was flaunting my incompetence on the field. There were plenty of matches where I tore them limb from inky limb, usually on days when I was stricken by a foul mood and needed an outlet for venting my wrath out on. I never liked the idea of overwhelming, ostensibly insurmountable challenges such as inhibiting myself to using just a small fraction of my capabilities, but I realized that there would come situations where I couldn’t show my full hand until the timing was right. I knew all too well that secrecy could be a weapon in its own right. Less obvious a weapon perhaps, but devastatingly subtle in its impact. And on those instances when I went full battle mage made out of meat and rage? Forget about it. 

Today however, I was spaced apart from my close range opponents by a distance of fifteen feet, while the long range soldiers in the back were about double that radius. I conjured the sound sphere to provide some background music in the form of Skrillex’s Reptile’s theme. The signal to initiate the fight was always the same. I would hum a melody of four short notes, followed by a long one that I would repeat twice. I did this mostly as a reference that no one else in this world should have been able to recognize (With the probable exception of Pinkie, in all likelihood) and I could derive amusement from. 

The two footpads with the dirks were the swiftest in reaching me; they split around and converged on my rear while I was in the process of drawing my Tantō. I sank back from a jab to my stomach from one while the other made to knock me off my feet. I hopped like a rabbit and slammed down on the leg of the shadow, pinning it in place for the lone second that I needed to disperse it with a stab to the neck. I grabbed the second one by the arm and spun it about to take the axe that was meant for me, dispersing it and giving me a split second vulnerability where the drawing back of the axe left the shade who brandished it open to attack. I capitalized on that by slamming a fist into its gut and making it recoil backwards (Extra strength shades took more than one physical hit, even taking my robust strength into account, to lay low. This was to simulate opponents that wore blunt shock mitigating armor).

I was given no time for breaks, since a spearman shade swung the staff portion of its weapon against my unprotected back. The blunt force of the attack was only potent enough to mildly stun me, which threw off my balance as the shade reared back to prepare a lunging strike. I sheathed the Tantō in favor of an unarmed tactic as the shade thrust its spear towards my midsection. With a fluidic movement, I sidestepped the attack and grabbed the business haft of the spear with my right hand, meanwhile hewing down on the center of the shaft with my left, breaking it in twain. I pivoted around and, using its own weapon against it, found purchase in the shade’s neck. I had to duck to avoid a string of shadow bolts from the mages in the rear and speedily assembled Dichotomy to bat away the rest before clashing with the sword wielding shades.

The sword wielding shades were always a wild card for some reason. They were either cumbersome or heavy handed in manner, like they were pretending to wield greatswords, or they were agile and lethal with the preciseness of their strikes. The two facing me appeared to be an even mix of those. I deflected the faster one’s lunge and rolled on the grass to avoid the other belligerent, slower shade, which swung wide like it was chopping at a tree. I was barely able to get back on my feet before I had to deflect several lightning fast slashes and jabs that were probing the stoutness of my defense. My steadfastness did not deter the fast shade from driving me back into swinging range of the slow one, who aimed to take out my legs. I engaged in acrobatics with a backflip and landed a kick on the back of the slow one’s right knee, forcing it to kneel on the injured limb. 

I heeded that the mages were preparing another wave of shadow bolts and hooked the crook of my left arm around the slow shade’s neck, effectively turning it into a body shield, while at the same time minimizing the area of me that was exposed to their fire. The sudden influx of shadow bolts peppered the slow shade, dissipating it. I used the moment before it did so to unsheathe a dagger from its chest pocket and hurl it at the fast shade as an impromptu throwing knife. Knowing that it was alert and coherent enough to deflect the attack, I followed it up with a swift and powerful hack of my sword, imparting centrifugal force on it by spinning mid strike. Unable to get out of the way in time, it futilely tried to block my attack, but the power behind the mighty blow sheared its weapon and its featureless face clean off.

It was a shame that facial expressions couldn’t be added to the shadow soldiers, the look of fearful surprise would have made the fight much more engaging.

The shadow mages had recharged at this point, and were tossing blackened bolts at me left and right. Whichever projectiles I couldn’t stop with Dichotomy’s nullifying edge were evaded with graceful sideway somersaults as I made headway towards the range and support oriented enemies. The mage class wasn’t being too innovative in this scrap so far from what I’ve seen, but I hadn’t trained with them for long enough to innovate and codify their appropriate behavior, whereas I tinkered with the other classes to the point where I was, for the most part, satisfied with their performance compared to what I had seen of the real deal. Their pattern of attack had run its course when I tore into them, slaying them without trouble and sending their forms back into the magical aether through which all ambient magic springs forth.

I hastily scanned the bushes of the natural enclosure for the crossbowmen, unable to detect them until it was too late. They covertly enacted their ambush plan hidden from my sight (and therefore safe from immediate reprisal), equilaterally launching their arrows at me from three angles. Each of those arrows hit their mark and I hissed in minor pain as the surge of stinging agony assaulted my brain. I raised a balled fist to signal them to cease their activity while I crouched to my knees and brooded over my situational defeat. Debilitating wounds like that would spell disaster for my well being if I didn’t decisively prevail in my skirmishes. I couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that in the heat of the battle if I wished to remain an effective influence in any future disputes. While I knew that if I had permitted myself to use magic to augment my senses, I could have uprooted the guileful crossbowmen and made short work of them. But that would have only defeated the purpose of preparing for arduous circumstances. My responsibilities would doubtlessly be onerous, and it usually paid to be ready for anything.

‘Damn… I always did have a weakness against sneaky opponents attacking with ranged weaponry’ I resolved to do something about that before it could come back to permanently bite me in the posterior at an inopportune time. I was so occupied with these thoughts that I didn’t even register the fact that I had live company.

“Zenith?” Came a benevolent, if not subdued voice from behind me. 

Acting mainly on trained instinct, I whirled around and had Dichotomy leveled mere inches from the speaker’s throat. I was so swift in my movement that Fluttershy couldn’t even ‘eep!’ in fright before my blade was all but grazing the skin on her neck. However, much to my puzzlement, she remained placid, looking me in my fiery red eyes with her watery oceans for orbs. I felt the raging inferno in my soul extinguish, and recede into indistinctness instantly. The Element of Kindness just had that kind of effect on me.

I found it within me to speak, “You shouldn’t sneak up on me when I’m in the warrior mindset, Fluttershy. I could have grievously harmed you or worse! And that would have destroyed me inside” I admonished her, but only because I cared about her wellbeing more than most.

She smiled shyly at me, “It’s okay, Zenith. I knew that you wouldn’t hurt me. I could tell because there wasn’t that aggressive spark in your eye that some of my animal friends have when they’re on edge or feel threatened. I’m sorry for intruding on you though… and for not catching your attention through other means” She sincerely asked to be pardoned, while I pointlessly observed to myself that she was eyeing my robes with fascination. Regardless, she made no comment on her opinion about them.

I would never forgive myself if I had a lapse in judgment to such a degree that I would purposefully injure a pure woman such as her, “By the Sun and Moon! You’re forgiven a thousand times over! May the Almighty strike me down if I ever intentionally cause harm to an angelic woman like you” I shatter-sheathed my weapon as my words elicited a pinkish blush on her cheeks, “Still… it’s unwise to be in the vicinity of someone training themselves to fight more efficiently with might and or magic” I advised her, in the event that she sought me out in this setting again.

Fluttershy looked appalled, “Why would you want to, though? Violence isn’t the means to an end” She protested, being fundamentally peaceful at heart.

I gave her an aside glance as I dispersed my remaining shadow soldiers with a flick of my hand, “You’re absolutely right, Fluttershy. It’s a means to an end. Not the first one that I want to use, mind you. But one that I should ensure my proficiency at, should a situation turn for the worst” I thumped my chest with a fist once, “We’re classic examples of the dimorphic stress response, pretty bird. I’m fight and flight, while you’re tend and befriend” I listed in juxtaposition. She and I represented those words with eerie aptness, in fact.

She stared somewhat sadly at me, “You must carry a heavy burden if you continually find yourself in such severe situations” She remarked with pity.

‘If only you knew’ I mused regrettably, remembering all the living beings that I had to put down in order to survive. I hid my inner grimace from her despite this. Fluttershy didn’t need to get caught up in that noise.

I gave her a halfhearted shrug, “I’ll manage, Fluttershy. I have little choice in the matter”

She closed the distance and embraced me, shocking me with her unexpected assertiveness, “You don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, B- I mean… Zenith” She corrected herself, almost calling me by my real name, which made something in my feels center twitch. Whether it was from wistful disappointment or suppressed yearning, I couldn’t discern for sure.

I gradually returned the warm hug, my lower chest squishing against her impressive bust (‘Gah! Go away naughty thoughts! We’ve already had our consensual sexy times for today!’), “I know… Thank you, Fluttershy. You’re much too kind” I joked lightly, prompting a delicate giggle from her. There was something about seeing her happy… that was indescribably beautiful.

I pulled away from her, “You want to know something weird? Applejack told me a similar truth last Tuesday night” I arched an eyebrow at her in mild accusation, “Are you sure you girls don’t have a list of uplifting things to say prepared in advance?” I inquired with a semi serious inflection. I was on the verge of uncovering a friendship conspiracy here.

She grinningly shook her head, “Not even Twilight does anything that detail specific in regards to her favorite subject. Not that I feel it even could be packaged and pamphleted like that. We each speak from the core of who we are, Zenith. If we tell you the same thing, it is because we have respectively learned it for ourselves” The demure woman patiently explained to me.

“Well… repetition does breed familiarity” I conceded, rolling my hand in emphasis. It’s unfortunate that it still has not bored its way into my thick skull yet.

“So what brings you by my airborne abode?” I asked, shifting the conversation towards more relevant topics.

“Have you forgotten the cheesecake? O-oh, that’s okay, I understand if you were too busy” The upset tremor in her voice was enough to wrench at my heartstrings.

I looked at her like she was being silly, “Me? Forget the cheesecake?” I chuckled, “My dearest Fluttershy, that was one of the very first priorities I made for myself when I was staying in Concordia with Rarity, unexpectedly establishing myself as a single event male model on the side” I included in afterthought.

“Oh my, you were a model too? I still remember my time under Photo Finish’s thumb. She’s a nice lady, but too passionate about her work to see that it’s often done at the expense of other’s comfort” She let out an nervous laugh, her face contorting as she perceived what she said as ill spoken (Even if it was all too true).

“And how!” I agreed vehemently, “I had to put up with both her and her rival. Their disagreements over everything was funny for the first few minutes, but got stale fast once I had to stand in place for hours on end”

“Yeah…” She involuntarily concurred, even though there was a flicker of failure to recognize the other person I was referring to.

Foreseeing the dreaded awkward silence ahead of time, I extended an open hand to her, “How about you and I go enjoy some of that Concordian cake?” 

“I’d love to” She accepted gracefully, ennobling me with her company as we ascended up to my home for dessert.

Our dinner date was your average affair, all common traits taken into account. We talked, ate some slices of cheesecake (still fresh after so many days), and talked some more after that. The shy woman was actually quite gregarious once you got her speaking about things that interested her or engendered that caring spirit of hers. The animal caretaker relayed to me that she had a recent influx of critters that had needed her help preparing for the full on winter weather that was scheduled to be just around the corner, which was also why she came to me for our date just now, since she had delegated a less busy day’s work to Angel’s supervision. Provisions like food was something that they could accumulate on their own, but not all animals had the organizational skills necessary to get the most bang for their buck. They came to Fluttershy because she had a long standing food rationing system worked out that allocated resources where they were needed, and even had a side effect of getting the animals to work together in cooperation. Something that I would just not see happening back in the homeland. The plus side to winter time was that most of the animals that Fluttershy felt obligated to care for would revert to their hibernation states, so her workload would level out before dropping as the first snows fell. It agonized me that I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I might not always be around.

We relocated ourselves to my porch area after our date, just watching the changing firmament and telling each other anything we felt like. She implicitly trusted me, and unsurprisingly, that was a sentiment that I shared in regards to her. Almost out of nowhere, I was struck by the urge to express how I felt to the world at large. Being sober came with the advantage of retaining conscious control over my actions, so I did nothing to indulge in that urge. The sensation only got worse with time the longer I refused to do what it wanted me to. In spite of my attempts to keep my bothersome woes internal, it began to show outwardly to anyone with a functioning brain and empathic perception.

Fluttershy noticed that I was bottling something in, “What’s the matter, Zenith? Are you suffering indigestion from the cheesecake?” She guessed offhand. Were this my old body, she would have been correct. As it was though, I was being resistant to the spontaneity of the synch event, and the harmonious magic in the air was discouraging me from doing that accordingly.

“No, it’s worse than that. My heart is asking me to sing, but my mind wants nothing to do with it and dismisses it as nonsensical, but that impulse to put how I feel into words just won’t go away!” I fretted, my face a rictus of vexation. Why wouldn’t this world take no for an answer!? I only sang when I was the one who was initiating!

A twinkle of amused disapproval flashed across her face, “Zenith… what have I told you about expressing ourselves from the heart?” She tilted her head at me as she upbraided me.

I winced, “That it was natural and nothing to be ashamed of?” I restated sheepishly.

She nodded, “Mhm hmm. So then why aren’t you singing yet?” She asked rhetorically.

I sighed explosively, not wanting to lose face in front of her, “Fine!” I swept her up into my arms, surprising her with a small shriek. 

Once she realized that I was dancing with her while singing about ‘Sweet Wings of Love’, she visibly relaxed and let me lead, cheeks flushed with blood the whole time. All the mental parallels I made of this world with those envisioned by Disney were punctually regretted and justified all in that capering instance. The only thing missing were the butterflies providing the echoing chorus. I supposed that Fluttershy’s Mana marks would have to suffice.

“Let’s keep what just happened between us, okay Flutters?” I requested of her once the urge to cavort had burnt itself out and I was free of its damnable influence. Fluttershy had loosened up over the course of our dancing (likely because it was far from any prying eyes that would silently judge her), and managed to have fun, whooping and laughing as we rotated in circles like the mad teacups ride in the Fantasyland section of a particular theme park. Which made one of us, really. I was more of a space and thunder mountain kind of guy anyhow.

“I won’t breathe a word of your romantic singing voice to anyone” She promised with a titter as she made a zipping motion across her lips. 

She smiled joyously by my side as we beheld the sun set in the distance before dipping below the horizon, the purple crepuscularity before the moon’s ascent made it the prominent astral body creeping into the sky’s features. Our fingers were entwined together as yet another day made the metamorphosis into night, the brightest stars slowly unveiling themselves one by one.


⁂


Saturday was to be my productive day. Having had almost a full week to mull it over, I was now mostly certain on what projects to submit for undertaking. I wrote my choices down on a card to personally hand in to the Princess. The selections had a number written next to it that corresponded to the page it could be found on in my original submission (I can be most meticulous when I want to be). I also took the liberty of transcribing a few more innovations, such as the concept for a ‘conductive coil orbited by a magnet’ simple electric generator, for use as a backup to their magical based brethren. Included with that stack was the tablature for the songs I intended to play at the opening ceremony of the games alongside the Star Seekers.

I traveled light, only toting the card and my armaments with me as I headed for the train station to catch a ride, seeing that flying there on my own power would have been tiring and I was a lazy git at times. Tickets for the ten o’clock were inexpensive (only ten bits), and my robe’s hood obscured enough of my face that nobody would be able to recognize me visually as that ‘Rogue who was devoid of respect for traditions’, as one older chap with a bowler hat had profiled me in a newspaper that followed not long after the fashion show which had made me equally famous and infamous. It wasn’t that I actually let public opinion about me affect my functioning, but I habitually preferred to stay out of the public eye, and media articles that either whined about my nonobservance of established etiquette or praised me for my bold progressiveness were definitely not helping on that front.

The tooting whistle of the train arriving in station mercifully rescued me from my mental irritation. A sizable mass of passengers and myself promptly boarded the iron horse and settled into our plush seats as the metal contraption pulled past the boarding ramp and out of the railway station as we embarked on a journey to the palatial capital of the country. I had my ticket punched by that same conductor guy from my last trip before turning my eyes to the window and watching the passing sights in peace (‘And with no Rarity to spoil that for me’). My hood and general aura of solitude subconsciously alerted people not to bug or otherwise interrupt me as I self isolated, so I had the whole seat section to myself. I could come off as really unfriendly without even the slightest of effort, something that was both a boon and bane for me at times.

Even though the capital couldn’t have been more than twenty or thirty miles removed from the less bustling town of Magiville, it still took the steam driven train about an hour to get there. It could be chalked up to the steep slopes that the metallic beast had to climb so it could align with the altitude of the skyward city, but I still felt as if there was something incongruous about the constant speed we maintained and the inconstant amount of time that it took to reach the turnstiles at our terminus. I mused about this as I alighted from the public mode of transport and made a beeline for the gates of the palace. Ducking and weaving around the thronged streets using a method of predicting the mob’s movements like a connate pro, I found myself at the gates of my paramount destination. Remembering what Luna had informed me about the hilt of my Mage-blade doubling as my badge of office, I pulled it out and flashed it to the guards. I was moderately taken aback when they deferentially bowed to me in respect before granting me passage to the palace grounds.

Of course, this late in the morning there was a huge line for admittance to the day court’s proceedings, and while I really wanted to exploit my position to once again gain expedient entry, I refused to become the kind of person who held their entitlement over the commoners (Or about as common as the nobles and aristocrats were in this city). Power was a privilege, and could be just as easily taken away as it was given. So with every patient fiber in my being, I waited for my turn, politely rejecting several attempts by the people to my front and to my rear to engage in pointless small talk and gossiping (These people were generally not receptive to the aura that served me so well on the train). Needless to say that it was agonizingly boring and irksome for me to act nobly. I would have passed the hours by with the sound sphere, but that would have attracted too much attention for my liking, especially from inquisitive Stellar Magi, who were the majority population in the capital. Concordians were a very nosy bunch, and that ticked all the wrong boxes in my books, which made me glad for the change in both scenery and personalities that I have found in Magiville.

I resisted the urge to shout in joyous glee as the court herald called me in next. The fancily dressed man was understandably confused when I told him that he could take a rain check on announcing my many illustrious and overinflated titles to a monarch who honestly couldn’t care less for pride, especially when it was wasn’t warranted. I brushed past him and into view of the Solar Princess, whose rehearsed smile became a little more authentic when she saw me stroll into her domain. She asked me why I didn’t just use the balcony window that she showed me from before. I told her my reasons and she was pleasantly impressed by my humility, but humorously quipped that it would be suitably acceptable for me to simply ‘drop on by’ whenever I felt it prudent. 

Mildly embarrassed by a notification which I should have figured out for myself, I automatically cleared my throat and seized that moment to hand her my card and the additional transcribed papers. Accompanying this action with words, I presented her with my logical reasoning behind my choices, elaborating on the advantages and whitewashing the drawbacks. She waved me off before I could really get to the cool stuff, teasingly comparing me to her student when she used to yammer on and on about her findings when all Celestia wanted was the message cut, dried, and centered on the overall conveyance. 

I promptly shut my trap for a moment, before succinctly asking where I could find Discord in a flat tone. I smirked a tad victoriously when I saw her amused expression mutate into something vaguely resembling worry as she asked why in the world I would desire to speak to him. I replied to her that it was my little secret, and if she wanted in on it, that she would have to ask Discord to spill his guts (Something I’m sure he was viscerally capable of. Without the downside of gruesomely dying anyways). She grudgingly pointed me in the direction of his office and I was on my merry way.

Half and hour later, I was practicing in the training room where Luna first taught me to use magic. I was decked out from head to toe in clunky, unwieldy body weights, had a magic distorting circlet on my head, and was too confined by the low ceiling to make full use of my wings. Despite these handicaps, I was doing quite well with the Claymore in my hands, holding my own against several smoke colored shadow dualists conjured repeatedly for me by a helpful Stellar Mage guard aptly named Smoky Marionette. One of the reasons I was doing so well was because I was fervently working off stress caused by the crap that the Lord of Bureaucracy subjected me to in order to speak with him about that favor he owed me. The worst of which was the endless hallway of trivial banalities that looped in on itself (yet it had something new to show me every time) no matter how many doorways I passed through. It had cost me a few minutes to come to the understanding that the only way to move forward in that blasted hallway… was to go backwards and out the way I came. Discord’s twisted logic never failed to reduce me to grinding my teeth to dust in frustration, much like how I was currently grinding my boot against the spinal column of one of Marionette’s puppets.

Having a second person controlling the puppet’s made sparring more effective. Marionette never used the same tactics twice, and was more than happy to hand me my ass on a silver platter when I slipped up. He was a quiet and analytical fellow like myself, so to recite an old expression that was the same in this world as it was in mine; we got along famously like two peas in a pod. I took a quick liking to the Claymore, it had a long reach backed by a lot of power behind the blade when it bit into simulated flesh. Only the puppets with more imitated and often ersatz armor were able to absorb the brunt of two or more blows from an on target swipe by me. The grand weapon’s few flaws were easily rectified by playing it to its strengths and utilizing unconventional methods to amend its weaknesses into something useful.

Even with the heaviest weights the royal barrack’s armorer could strap onto me, I was still light on my feet, with only my turn speed really getting de-buffed. They also came with the unintended benefit of allowing me to put the hurt on someone if I body slammed them into the wall, with devastatingly results, as many of Marionette’s poor puppets found out for themselves. The guard occasionally gave me advice as I fought, warning me when I was slacking in checking my peripherals for foes or if I wasn’t maneuvering frequently or wisely enough to keep his puppets from swarming and overwhelming me with their sheer force of numbers. I learned a lot in the hour or so that ticked by faster than I would have liked, in anticipation of the Athletic Championship that would be hosted in the ensuing month. I wouldn’t rate myself as raring and ready to dominate anyone who would challenge me in the ring of honor, but I was slowly yet surely improving my baseline fighting ability.

Events took an odd twist in direction when Prince Blueblood sought me out on the training grounds of the palace and threw himself to my feet, where he noisily begged for my forgiveness in front of dozens of guards. To their credit, none of the golden helmed warriors ceased in their drilling routines to watch the unprecedented spectacle of Blueblood humbling himself before me. If anything, I was the one who was embarrassed by his rash behavior. I roughly dragged him by the collar to some place that was out of sight where I reprimanded him for not formally asking to speak to me instead of debasing himself on the filthy floor.

He continued to apologize profusely, making me idly wonder if the real Blueblood hadn’t simply been replaced by a changeling spy (Which I was sure most people would have considered an improvement contrasting with his old narcissistic self). I thought better of it and asked him what his act was for, since I had trouble buying it after the hostile way he treated me when I first came to the palace. He reassured me that his efforts to atone for his atrocious mannerisms from when he was what he sardonically dubbed ‘Badblood’ were entirely genuine. 

I perceived his words as an unspoken challenge for me to test his claim, so I asked him if he would accompany me to a place I knew of where wealthy and common folk alike could convene to partake of aliments and ale. He twitched at first at the mention of loathsome commoners, but lowered his eyes and nodded his consent, garnering some essential esteem from me. Just to be sure wasn’t lying about his intentions; I thanked him for his willingness to treat me to few drinks, chuckling to myself when I caused him to wince as if struck.

Not really having knowledge of other joints worth looking at, a commonly dressed Blueblood (at his own insistence, done to avoid unwanted attention. Which I could understand perfectly) and my regularly robed self were pounding back drinks on the mezzanine of the Lofty Lounge restaurant and jazz club. The bar on the second floor that overlooked the performer’s stage was something that I missed since there were curtains at the entrance that obscured the stairs leading to it. Blueblood was relieved that I had chosen a place that managed to meet the lowest of his standards, clearing his throat and nervously looking away from me once I sent a pointed half glare his way for relapsing into his horrid habits. 

The eccentrically voiced owner and proprietor of the place; Smooth Jazz, happily announced that one of his on and off cellists had offered to do something radically different with her skills that night. He grinned knowingly and pridefully stated that he had the honor of employing some supremely talented people, and that he hoped that we the audience would see what he meant by that shortly. With a melodramatic flourish on his part, the curtains parted to reveal a phenomenon that I never thought I would ever see.

It was Octavia. 

The classical musician was clad in an eye catching, scintillating backless black dress that caught the light and managed to refine it into a more pleasing form. Or maybe it was the alluring way that the dress hugged and accentuated the rather shapely curves of her body. Her arms were sheathed in midnight black evening gloves that added a layer of depth to her persona that I was appreciating immensely. She was standing on the stage with her signature stringed instrument nowhere in sight, positioned behind an old fashion metallic microphone that reminded me of those used in the forties era. 

She languidly bowed her head to her audience before she cued the band to her left to start playing. She tapped the surface of the stage with one of her heeled shoes until it came time for her to sing. The tune was not something that I recognized by name, reminding me of ‘Blues in the Night’, but I instinctively knew that it was a classic in its own right. She swayed side to side as she grasped the microphone stand and caressed it like she would a lover. Her velvety voice bounded off the coffered ceiling and was soothing to my ears, making me momentarily forget of all my worldly worries. The marvelous woman taking my observance on the smoothness of her voice and trying her hand at singing caused an upward curl of my lips, as I enjoyed another Mojito (Lyra had some fine tastes) on Blueblood’s dime.

I cheered loudly once she finished, wolf whistling to catch her attention when she looked for the person who thought so highly of her performance. Her eyes widened considerably once she saw me raising a drink in a toasting gesture. She composed herself for her applauding audience and curtsied to them before leaving the stage. She casually made her way up to where Blueblood and I were presently getting our buzz on (Well, Blueblood was anyhow. Only Berry Punch could concoct a drink concentrated enough to get even me intoxicated).

Blueblood himself was all too eager to drown his troubles in torrents of alcohol. Once his inhibitions were sufficiently loosened and before Octavia crested the stairs, I grilled him on what he had been doing to curry favor with those he longed for forgiveness from. When I did, he broke down into a sobbing mess. He confided in me that his efforts to right things with the people he had besmirched have been met with disgust and scorn. He then gave me an awkward, stumbling hug and asked me why I was one of the few to even spare him a wink of their time instead of rightfully spitting in his face. He raised an interesting question, and I had to meditate on my response.

“Maybe what you needed instead of self validation… was a shoulder to lean on. In other words… a friend” I said to him, stealing material from the guidebook that I was sure the girls were keeping a secret from me.

“W-we’re f-f-friends?” He stutteringly pulled back, sniffling as he stared hopefully at me.

At that bizarre moment, Blueblood was an utter wreck of a royal family member to look at visually. His hair was unkempt and messy, his face was getting streaked from tears, his clothes were ruffled, and he was coping by drowning his miseries at an establishment that served alcohol. He looked nothing like Arcania’s most eligible bachelor prince, and I bet his reputation would be in ruins if he wasn’t dressed in ‘commoner’s clothing’ (They were still pretty damn fancy, all things considered). If anything, he looked like some lost man-child who had finally realized that he was a wretch of a person, and that the road to reparations was not an easy one to walk. Despite my less than cordial history with the man and my acquired disliking of him, I took pity on my fellow prince.

I shrugged and finished off another mojito steeped with maraschino cherries piled on floating toothpicks, “That’s a work in progress, but I’d safely say that we are acquainted drinking buddies at this point”

He tripped toward me and I was compelled to catch him in my arms, “Heh, I’ve never had a *Hic!* drinking buddy before… it’s nicer than I thought it would be” He contentedly hummed aloud as he used me as a pillow. He hadn’t even touched his second glass of gin! This dude was a flyweight.

“You’re drunk, Blue” I took his arm and held it over and around my shoulder before helping him onto his feet, “C’mon, let’s get you back to the palace so you can pass out in your own room instead of on the wooden paneling”

He mumbled something unintelligible and took that opportunity to rudely fall asleep. I paid the straight faced barkeep (what a consummate professional) out of my own pocket for the last round of drinks and carried the conked out prince slung over my back like an expensive sack of potatoes.

‘Why is it that everyone I get in friendly with in this city has drinking issues? I guess the capital city’s lifestyle is just stressful that way’ I contemplated advertising sojourns to the countryside to stressed out city dwellers, but decided to delegate it to someone else with the know how to pull that off.

“Zenith!” Octavia called to me once she was in hearing range.

I jerked upward to get a better grip on the unconscious prince as I regarded the second woman to capture my affections, “Hey beautiful. You were incredible up there” I truthfully lauded her.

Her face heated up at my praise, “You really think so? Smooth Jazz needed me to cover for one of our singers who came down with strep throat. I remember what you said to me about my voice and I volunteered after memorizing the lyrics and auditioning for him. He claimed that he was ‘In awe’ of my hidden talent, but I personally didn’t think I was anything exceptional” She bashfully brushed the accolades aside, “Who is that?” She asked me, eyeing the man slumped against my shoulder. She couldn’t recognize Blueblood at this angle since he was facing the floor, and his ridiculous feathered hat shielded his platinum blonde hair from view.

“Somebody who owes me five bits that I intend to collect the next time that he’s awake” I answered as I leaned towards her, giving her a kiss that she enthusiastically returned with an elated moan.

‘With interest, no less! Was that a tongue prodding at my lips that I detected?’ This girl was already trying her darnedest to get me randy, and she was precariously close to succeeding. It was too bad that I had human luggage that was inelegantly getting in the way.

“Oh my! How cutthroat of you” She dryly remarked with a smile as she disconnected from our osculation.

“Yup” I played along, “I’m a legendary loan shark when I want to be” That wasn’t an unfounded boast either. I was somewhat infamous among my family and what few friends I kept close by for consistently reminding them that they owed me that quarter or dollar that I had spared them during that instance where they were short on funds to buy something.

“And is this legendary loan shark available to see me tonight, in my abode?” She asked with an impish gleam in her dazzling eyes, “I might have a surprise for him that he will no doubt, savor… for quite some time to come” She puckishly apprised me.

“I’ll consult him and see if he’s free of any imperative duties” I joked, before turning serious, “But I’m inclined to believe that your chances of seeing him tonight are all but guaranteed in your favor”

“Mmm… I’ll patiently endure every second until he does” She uttered in that ever classy melodic voice of hers, bidding me a fond farewell as I lugged Blueblood back to his quarters at the palace.

It was early into Luna’s night, and her moon provided only the scantest of illumination as I walked the back alleys to avoid the main street’s foot traffic and people who might recognize even the commonly dressed prince, who was mumbling to himself in his sleep over my shoulder. I was halfway down one of the alleys when three silhouettes emerged from the shadows, one cloaked figure to my rear and two to my front. Sensing that danger was close, I heaved the prince into a nearby and opened garbage dumpster to the side and slammed the cover shut with a flash of my magic. I was counting on them being focused on me, and not him. It would be a shame if my newly acquired drinking buddy was kidnapped and held for ransom at the hands of low life thugs.

“Something I can assist you gentlemen with?” I kept my voice steady and even, meanwhile accessing how to best emerge from the situation with a minimum of danger.

“Yeah” One of them, a portly fellow, rasped in a low guttural tone from behind me. He drew what looked like a dagger from the inside of his sleeve, “You can bleed!”

He rushed forward with a lunge. In the split second that this happened, I analyzed his attack. I discerned from the sloppy footwork and the arrogant glint in his eye that it had no semblance of a tactical plan backing it. So with this in mind, I fleetly sidestepped his stab, coiling my right arm around his arm and karate chopping at his vulnerable Adam’s apple with my left hand like Liam Neeson. This stunned him severely and forced him to drop the knife where I could kick it out of reach. The other two stared at each other worriedly as their comrade doubled over, clutching at his neck and struggling for breath. I may have forgotten to magically blunt that last strike. He’d live through it… I think.

“What?” I held out my arms in challenge, “Weren’t expecting me to put up a fight? That I would be easy prey? Screw that, screw this, and screw you!” I obstreperously declared with the one finger salute.

“He took out Pork Chop!” The larger (and stupider, if his numbskull voice was anything to go by) of them hissed, “The contractor didn’t say he could fight!”

‘Hired thugs?’ That’s just great. Somebody in this town had it out for me.

“I don’t care! We don’t bring back proof that he’s taken care of and we don’t get paid!” The other harshly whispered back, turning to me he shouted, “Together we can kill ‘em!”

They both charged towards me. The dumber of them brandished what was likely some kind of blunt mace, while the other extended four pronged claws from over his knuckles that reminded me of the main villain’s final weapon from the movie Enter the Dragon. The smarter one (likely the leader of the bunch) swiped at me aggressively and kept me on my toes as I backpedaled, while the larger one prepared a heavy handed downward swing that I dodged with a leap. The clumsy weapon cracked against the stone floor of the alley and rebounded off of it, smacking the squatting oaf in the head and benumbing him. His idiocy bought me some valuable time. 

It was time that I exploited to make the switch to my hidden blades and catch the leader’s next claw swipe by inserting my left blade’s edge into the claw’s prongs. I twisted it ninety degrees away from myself so the smarter one couldn’t pull out of the trap and stabbed into his exposed arm with my right blade, causing him to scream in pain as he unstrapped his weapon and recoiled away from me. My fist was the last thing he registered before it was lights out for him. I didn’t get the chance to turn around before I felt a heavy weight slam into my back and knocked the air out of my beleaguered lungs, launching me into the air by a few feet. I fell face forwards and rolled to the side to avoid another smash that was aimed at my skull. Not holding back at this point, I blindly lashed out with an unencumbered kick, fortuitously striking the big oaf square on the left shin and breaking the bone. He howled in agony as he collapsed onto his side and nursed at his shattered leg, muttering curses all the while. It was pardonable of me to assume that he was out of commission.

After I could suck in air through my teeth, I hopped to my feet and made sure there was no one else who wanted a piece of me before examining which of these thugs was in the best condition to extract some answers from. I winced as pain flared in my backside, stopping and bending over for a moment to recover. Big dumb and ugly over there hadn’t been playing around with that mace of his. 

“Arrgh! I’m going to be feeling that one in the morning” I griped to myself. Rising back to my full height, I dealt with the one responsible by delivering him to the realm of restless sleep with a swift kick to the cranium via my steel shod boot. It might have been petty of me to kick someone who was already down, but he probably wouldn’t have the information I needed… and my back was sore because of the bungling moron.

That left only one other thug for me to interrogate. The man whose neck I tenderized was only just in the beginning process of recovering his oxygen when I bore down on him.

“Here piggy, piggy” I taunted the fat man.

‘Time to work on my terrifying presence perk’ What I was about to do was not for the faint hearted. The boundaries of morality were always in the back of my mind, trying to constrain me. But I was not afraid to exercise the right to suspend them whenever the situation called for it.

“Who sent you?” I asked in an unnervingly calm voice.

“Piss off!” He spat back defiantly, which earned him a kick in his pudgy gut and his lungs re-vacated of air.

“I won’t ask a third time” I warned him, “Now who sent you!?” I demanded in a deep growl.

“That… the… best you got?” He eked out, entitling him a one hundred percent discount on the next two jabs to his collarbone and solar plexus regions. I was about to prepare a shock spell to ignite every pain receptor in his body when he caved in.

“Her name’s Melody!” He wheezed, surprised by my draconian brutality. I did not mess around when it came to attempts on my life. You order a hit on me and I’ll go Jack Bauer on the lackeys you send, and then I’ll hunt you down.

‘I knew that snake in the grass wouldn’t stay gone from my life’ I brooded. Perhaps I should have made my meaning to her a little clearer back in the auditorium.

I grabbed him by his thinning ruddy hair and emphatically introduced his face into the alley’s stonework, “You’re going to carry a message to her for me” I compelled the man, just daring him to argue with me.

He spat out a chipped fragment from a tooth, “An’ why should I come crawlin’ back to ‘er with my tail between me legs?” His angrily asked in his salty, accented voice.

“You’ll do it… even if I have to carve it into your flesh for all to see!” I seethed in a tone that brooked no contradiction, lest I make good on my very real threat.

The man took heed and began struggling in my snaring grasp from fright, “Alright, alright! I’ll do it… What should I tell ‘er?” He yielded with an ease that almost disappointed me. But I wasn’t a sadist, so I harmed him no further and released him from my clutches.

“Tell her that if she ever pulls a stunt like this again, I’ll find her, tear her ovaries out… AND PROCEED TO FEED THEM TO HER! AM I UNDERSTOOD, YOU PISS BORN TRASH!?” I might have lapsed into the Royal Concordian voice right there, but I was too furious to pay it any mind.

“Yes yes! We’ll tell her to leave you in peace!” He more or less cried out in compliance and fear, which was my ultimate objective in this exercise.

“Feel free to quote me on that!” I cheerfully spouted, “Now rally your friends together and get out of my sight… before I change my mind” I said in an ominous voice completely devoid of emotion. He perfunctorily nodded and obediently hobbled over to check on his incapacitated comrades, frenetically urging them to get the hell out of there.

I fished a significantly more odiferous Blueblood (who had slept through the entire exchange) out of the dumpster, wiping the rotten food chunks off his person and holding him with my magic since I didn’t want to become dirty myself. Showing no fear whatsoever, I ambled past the thugs who were licking their wounds and out of the alleyway, giving them arrant access to my exposed backside. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t have my extra sensory perception spell active in case they felt like getting in some cheap shots, but none of them dared to lift a finger against me. Too fearful were they of the unassuming man wearing robes, and the vindictive monster that he restrained within.

I made good time back to the castle and left the heavy sleeper of a prince in the capable hands of the gate guards on duty. Their perturbed outcries were mollified once I truthfully explained that the man only had one too many drinks with me and suffered a mishap with a dumpster. They summoned some of the palace servants to bear him to a bath so he could sober up and clean off the filth that stubbornly clung to his matted locks of hair. 

With that insipid business all in order, I hightailed it back to Octavia’s place, spurred on by curiosity as to what sort of surprise she had prepared for me. I entered her apartment complex and knocked on her door to announce my presence. I heard some shuffling from inside before she gave me the okay to make my ingress. I dramatically inhaled deeply in suspense before twisting the knob and pushing forward. I must admit… Octavia’s surprise for me was sexy as all hell. I’m not sure where she acquired it, but she was wearing a maid outfit that was wrapped up with a magenta bow that matched the pretty color of her eyes. She had positioned herself by a large mirror, facing away from me with a polishing cloth in her hands and showing off her plump posterior. She seemed to be into the art of role play. And boy, could she play.

‘Oh… Octavia, you certainly know how to tempt a man’ I felt weak kneed as I beheld her lithe form, the great Zenith about to be laid low by a woman. His woman in fact, but the irony was pertinent regardless.

She ditched the cloth and strutted over to me with a sultry gait, “I recall you made a promise about performing for me?” She said with a frisky bounce in her step, pulling me down into a passionate kiss as she spun me around and closed the door behind us with a hooking motion of her foot.


⁂


I awoke enveloped in Octavia’s warm embrace. I was supremely tempted to just lie there for the rest of the morning and stroke at her lustrous hair, (the wretched sunlight couldn’t penetrate the cellist’s thick curtains. Something I was very grateful for) but I remembered that Sunday was sleepover slash movie night at the treebrary. After extricating myself from her iron grip, I wrote another note using the almighty ink pen explaining that I found her company to be most pleasurable (pun intended. Still didn’t compromise on my no home base rule) and that I would visit her as frequently as I could given my present circumstances. Planting a kiss on her snoozing brow in goodbye, I got dressed and hurried to board the first return train to stop at Magiville. 

As soon as I stepped foot onto the platform, I scrambled back to my home in the clouds and to change clothes and isolate myself within its confines until it came time to indulge the others in both my origins and my movie collection. A note from Twilight that was posted to my door informed me of when I was expected at the library in a detached tone, likely because I had been giving her the runaround for the past few days. Shrugging to no one in particular, I occupied myself until then by taking advantage of my semi anechoic musical chamber to rock out, playing songs that I had never tried before and using different instruments than my trusty guitar. I put the world’s harmonious synchronization events through their paces in those jammin’ hours.

Day once again morphed into night and soon I was impelled to congregate with the others at Golden Oaks. Thanks to my keenly honed sense of punctuality, I was the first guest to arrive. Twilight welcomed me by zapping me with a stupefying spell (which was ineffective against me, but I pretended like it worked so she would feel empowered. I’m a giver like that. A deceitful giver, but a giver none the less) and giving me an earful for disappearing on her, which I bore with the expression that I used to seem like I was listening when I really wasn’t. Having vented her frustrations out on me, she recomposed herself to be cordially welcoming to her five other best friends.

Once we were all settled in, they wasted no time in grilling me on who I was and where I came from like I had promised them I would. They were shocked that I came from another world, and initially had difficulty believing me. Twilight wasn’t as flabbergasted, as she admitted that she had rifled through my belongings once and couldn’t recognize many of the objects she found, nor their foreign inscriptions (China didn’t have an analogy on any of this world’s maps). Even though I had already suspected her of doing this in the past, I still experienced a pang of disappointment at her meddlesome inquisitiveness. I withheld revealing what my birth name was (except for Fluttershy, who knew beforehand), giving them my reasoning for doing so. But I did promise to tell them all someday when I felt it befitting the occasion. 

They couldn’t even process the idea of my world’s Sun and Moon being out of the control of any one person, and were utterly flummoxed when I explained to them that gravity was their master. To illustrate my point more effectively, I asked Twilight for a bed sheet, a paperweight, and some marbles. Having Applejack and Twilight hold the sheet to the extent of moderate tautness, I explicated on how the sheet represented the fabric of space and time. I subsequently dropped the paperweight in the middle and told them how the object with the greater mass had a correspondingly greater gravitational pull on lighter objects, before taking the marbles and rolling them around the stir-fry shaped bowl demonstrating the orbits that the planets took as they made their way around the sun. Twilight appreciated the demonstration immensely, and eulogized my example after she had mentally thrown out her concepts of the influence of magic on that system.

After the questions and answers portion of the sleepover was finished, we moved on to the socializing part. This part I decided to skip while I busied myself with setting up the main entertainment. Unfortunately, the others would not concede any breathing space for me to do this. Applejack demanded a word about being loose lipped with Rainbow and apprising her about the occasion that she tried to trick me into thinking that I slept with her. Her timing for this confused me, but I chalked it up to wanting to appear justified in front of her friends. I could have turned it on its head by reminding her that Rarity was the one who schemed that up and Applejack was just an accessory, but I let the apple farmer have her ostensible victory over me. 

Somehow from there, everyone crowded around me as they began telling me things that I approximately knew about them, but had never heard about in their own words. I learned for a fact that both Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were only children much like myself, though they considered each other to be sisters after a fashion, since they had known each other for such a long time. Pinkie revealed in a fit of giggles that she still kept all of the spent confetti from the very first party she ever threw as a memento and sometimes bathed in it (She’s so unusual!). Applejack relayed to me how she could count the number of big official places that she had been to outside of Magiville on one hand, and seemed indifferent as to whether or not she wanted to see more. Twilight disclosed with flushed features that she kept a steamy series of novels hidden behind inconspicuous tomes back in her tower as a guilty pleasure whenever she had free time.

I smirked as she said that, “My personal favorite scene was when Courtier Heartthrob finally gave up his skirt chasing habits to confess his endless love for the relatively low born Scribe Midnight Oil, even though he could have had the hand of any noble lady he so chose. Those little doodles of yourself in the place of Midnight Oil that you drew on separate sheets of paper crammed into the back were adorable, Twilight”

“Y-you… you read my romance books!?” Twilight shrieked, looking like she was about to hyperventilate and faint from embarrassment. Score one underhanded point for me.

“And legitimately enjoyed some of them” I shamelessly averred, “But enough of that! It’s time to break out the movies!” I pulled out my prized laptop from my satchel and set it on a low lying table in the main atrium and signaled the girls to pop a squat behind me.

“What the heck is that thing?” Rainbow Dash asked aloud.

“I don’ rightly know. But ah can approve of its logo” Applejack piped in, nodding at the Apple symbol on the screen. It’s probably for the best that she didn’t claim that it represented her family in general; otherwise I was afraid that the Apple Corporation would traverse the cosmic veil just to file a lawsuit. Even if they did, they would quickly find out that copyright claims don’t exist on this side of the reality.

“Are you sure we can’t engage in at least one round of spin the bottle?” Rarity asked me with a sigh. I ignored her, because I knew that she only wanted to get gossip worthy dirt on everyone else, and to rope me into more uncomfortable situations.

“Do you fancy cinema films, Rarity?” I directed at her.

“The last motion picture I recall spending two hours watching was Con Man, the one with the spy who infiltrates evil organizations and brings them down from the inside?” Rarity sighed dreamily, “Such suave class… and those Tuxedos! I dare say that I couldn’t do much to improve on them if I had made them myself!”

‘Huh, must be this world’s version of Double O Seven’

“High praise, coming for you” I remarked offhandedly as the screen booted up. 

The device that they had never laid eyes on before, and it was only on the home screen, awed the girls. If I showed them what this baby could really do, their minds would chase their literal tails ad infinitum. I tapped the iTunes icon and scrolled over to my movie tab, displaying my impressive list of digital titles worth perusing. My mother had obsessed over collecting high definition movie discs and their additional digital copy cards, so I had plenty of material that was imported over from the home sharing network. To be fair though, I taught them how to use the touch pad (the coveting glister shining in Twilight’s eye was cause for some concern) to scroll up and down so they could vote on whatever they might like to see.

Something that I almost immediately regretted.

“What’s this one? …Frozen?” Twilight uttered curiously, scanning her eyes over the title.

“NO!” I rushed over at speeds faster than I thought myself previously capable of and snatched my laptop away from her, “We’re not watching that… ever” I suppressed a shudder, I could already envision them singing along to those damnable songs and driving me into an early grave.

‘The last thing I want is for frozen fever to spread here’ I should delete that movie as soon as possible and save the world from at least that scourge.

“New idea! I’ll do the picking, and you sit pretty and watch. Alright?” My tone made it clear that it wasn’t up for discussion.

“What was wrong with Frozen?” Twilight confusedly inquired.

I shook my head, “Not talking about it… nope” I hummed thoughtfully as I found one that they might like, if only for the comparative symbolism. I set the laptop down again and put on the eighties movie Legend. Over the course of the film, I was gauging their reactions. Twilight was watching my laptop more so than the movie itself. Rarity and Applejack watched attentively. Pinkie and Rainbow Dash were horse playing before they noticed me staring disapprovingly at them and cut it out. Fluttershy was smiling at me once it showed the excessive nature scene, like she thought that I picked this movie with her likings taken into account.

“Well? What were opinions of it?” I surveyed them once the movie was over.

“It may have coincidental, but I was drawing parallels between the protagonists' struggles, and our struggle against the Night Terror, who also sought to bring about eternal night” Twilight studiously said.

“Unicorns? Ridiculous! Simply ridiculous” Rarity criticized with a huff. I couldn’t help but snicker at the situational incongruity of her words.

“And just what are you grinning at?” The seamstress narrowed her eyes at me.

“The sheer irony permeating the atmosphere right now”

“That demon was scary…” Fluttershy meekly spoke up, just at the threshold of my exceptional hearing.

“If you think Tim Curry was scary in this movie, you should see him in the rocky horror picture show. That was Grade A weird” I told her with a chortle.

Oh nuts, I just realized that I never should have mentioned that to Pinkie.

“Ooh Ooh! Can we watch that one next!?” Pinkie pleaded with her usual fervor, waving her hand in the air like a kid in class.

“Maybe next time” I gently put a damper on that, selecting the Nightmare before Christmas at the next film on the list. I entertained the girls by whistling along to the songs. Now that was material worth doing unorthodox things for. Reactions to this movie were generally positive. The girls cheered Jack Skellington on as he rediscovered his passion for Halloween and when he battled boogie to rescue his friends.

It was getting late when I made one last choice before we had to turn in for the night. I scrolled to a special, almost hallowed section of my media library and put the first Star Wars movie on the screen for their viewing enjoyment. I also did it for myself, since Star Wars was the heart and soul of my favorite futuristic fantasy epics. I loved practically everything about it, the vast and beautiful setting set against the backdrop of the stars, the conflict of the noble and resourceful Alliance rebelling against the evil Galactic Empire, and the personal story of the unassuming moisture farmer becoming a hero destined to save the galaxy. It took all these amazing storytelling elements and blended them together in such a way that it captured my love forever onwards. Furthermore, I think I might have also converted Twilight in the process, because she watched this movie with rapt attention, absorbing every detail and committing it to her deepest databanks for reference. Halfway through the tale she began sketching something on a pad of paper that I couldn’t see at my angle. I just dismissed it as Twilight taking notes and thought nothing more of it.

All things considered, it was a superb way to conclude my Sunday.
...

“That was… nice” Fluttershy opined to me, after the credits screen rolled around.

I was pretty sure that the sound of shattering glass was my core breaking apart as I gaped open mouthed at her.