Stormsinger

by Airstream


Epilogue

The hospital wing of the Regia was a state-of-the-art facility, containing the absolute best in medicine that could be found in the Evening Kingdom, from on-call alchemists and healers, to more specialized personnel that took care of mental health, extreme injuries, rare diseases, and other unfortunate ailments. Patients were kept in a near-constant state of stasis as soon as they entered the doors, more or less suspended in time while their injuries were treated, and doctors and nurses were on-call around the clock to ensure nothing went wrong with their patients.

Some of the most powerful and prominent figures in the Evening Kingdom received treatment here, and while the Regia’s medical staff did not have a perfect track record, theirs was the highest in Equestria bar none. Competent, discrete, and efficient, to be a member of the Regia’s medical staff was to have reached the pinnacle of medical science.

With that said, the past few days had been trying for every member of the staff. Two high-profile patients, each with extensive physical and magical damage, not to speak of the severe trauma to their psyches, had been brought in simultaneously in the wake of an attack that had left other hospitals in the city overflowing. Also overflowing were the morgues.

The staff prided themselves on discretion and a lack of gossip, but the strange events of the past few days had proved to be more temptation than even they could overcome, and so the halls were abuzz with rumor and speculation on what had really transpired in that arena. Was it true that Lady Serale’s defense of herself had killed nearly a thousand innocent ponies? Or had they already died in the blast that heralded the arrival of one of the most feared necromancers in recent memory?

And for that matter, who was the young mare being kept in the room directly next to her? Her tattered robes marked her as an apprentice, and the Magus herself had stopped to check on her more than once, but there had been no formal announcement as to whether or not Libra had taken on a protégé. Also unusual was the large black cat that slumbered by her side, never leaving her, or even eating, curled up into a ball at the foot of her bed. Every doctor or nurse that came to check on her was greeted with the baleful stare of that cat, and there was something more than a little unnerving about it. After much consideration, it had been decided that the cat would not be moved, to the great relief of the orderlies who would have had to move him.

So it was that Serale Everstar and Cobblestone, apprentice to the Magus, spent three days in silent repose, being attended to, rubbed with unguents and fed potions as well as being given medicine and having the beating of their hearts monitored for even the slightest deviation. And well had they earned their rest, for their injuries were grave. The Lady had suffered major frostbite along her back and scalp, especially around her horn, and had somehow contracted a case of near-fatal hypothermia that had sent her into terminal shock. It had been a close thing, but she had survived.

Her friend was even worse off. Cobblestone’s body had been covered in burns of varying severity, especially her horn. Damage had been done to her lungs, her eyes, her heart, and the musculature underneath her coat. Her bones had become brittle due to the potency of the magical flames, and she had also showed signs of significant blunt force trauma. Witnesses said that they had seen her slammed into the back of the royal box hard enough to leave cracks in the stone. She should not have gotten back up from such a blow, but rise she did. Things were not looking good for Cobblestone, and though she would definitely live, the healers did not know how much of her would be damaged after her recovery, or if she ever would fully recover.

The doctor, a venerable stallion with forty years of experience, sighed and removed his spectacles as he finished checking on his charge for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. It was, quite simply, a miracle that Cobblestone was alive. It was a miracle either of them were. He had done time as a medic in two small wars, practiced in some of the most forsaken lands, and still he had had an easier time protecting those under his care then than the two young mares under his charge now.

The clock on the wall chimed seven in the evening, an hour until his shift ended and he went home for a few scant hours of rest. He straightened up from reading the chart, feeling the bones in his back pop, and he gave a low groan of pain. He would need to start using a cane soon, and was dreading every minute that brought him closer to that point. His own mentor had used a cane when he began service in a hospital, and he had never quite shaken the image of him as an old fuddy-duddy out of his mind. That was the penalty of age, he supposed. It would only ever get worse for him from here on out.

“Pardon, sirrah?”

The doctor blinked, shaken from one of his increasingly-frequent reveries by the silent arrival of a young mare, with fine features and a red mane of frizzy hair that nearly reached her hooves. He frowned, almost sure that he could see fangs in the polite smile she was giving him. He fumbled with his spectacles, resolving the fuzziness of what he was seeing, and nearly gasped. This young mare, hardly older than a filly, was one of the prettiest things he had ever seen. Her eyes were especially captivating, a stunning shade of green.

“I’d heard a young mare was here, wounded nigh to death. Wouldst thou know whither she might be found?”

The doctor shook himself, trying to find his tongue. “Who are you?” he asked. “Why are you here? How did you get past the guards?”

“My name is Leanan mac Baobhan mac Niamh du Feinan, late of the Grove of Silver Apples. I asked the guards politely if they would let me by, and they agreed. And I am here seeking the one called Cobblestone, for she has my cat,” the young mare said, giving a brief curtsy to the doctor. “And how are you called?”

The doctor gulped, suddenly nervous. “You…you’re one of the Fae, aren’t you?”

The mare calling herself Leanan smiled, and it seemed that the shadows around her grew sharper as she did. “Aye,” she agreed, “I have been called as such. Thou’rt well-learned, to guess my nature so quickly. Thou knowest what rules I must abide by when I am here? I can do ye no harm, if thou offer me none.”

The doctor swallowed, nodded. “The ponies under my care are under my protection,” he said firmly, summoning strength he didn’t know he had. “They’re my guests here, the same as you.”

“Art thou the master of this hall, then?” the monster asked sweetly.

The doctor thought fast. “It has been given to me in trust by the Lady Everstar. I am the most senior doctor in her service. By rights, this hospital is mine.” As he finished, he knew it was the right thing to say. The deep shadows that had been pooling around the Fae’s hooves softened, and the air in the room appeared to have thawed, somehow.

“Then I would ask of thee a boon,” the creature of the Forest said, “And in return, reward thee in equal measure.”

The doctor didn’t let his guard down for a moment. “If it is within my power, and brings no harm to anypony in this building, I will grant you your boon. But then you must leave. It is not safe here for you or anypony else.”

“Thou carest for my well-being?” Leanan asked. She tilted her head inquisitively. “Why, if I may be so forward?”

“I grew up in a small village not far from your grove,” the doctor said. “One of them, anyway. We used to leave offerings there at the end of every harvest in thanks. Barley, apples, and herbs.”

“I know thy village well,” Leanan said with a smile. “You were well-loved among the Unseelie.”

“Ask your favor,” the doctor said.

“I wish for the space of a minute with the mare in that bed,” Leanan said, pointing at Cobblestone. “I swear a solemn oath that I shall not harm her in any way, nor shall I deprive her of anything she would miss.”

The doctor thought about it for a moment, trying to discern any lies behind her words. While under his roof, she couldn’t lie outright, but she could twist the words of her truths in unpleasant ways.

“Alright,” he said after nearly a half-minute of thinking. “And then you go.”

Leanan nodded, examining the doctor as she did. A smile lit up her eyes, and she rummaged through a saddlebag that the doctor had not noticed up until that point. From within its depths, she produced an apple, gleaming silver in the soft light of the hospital room.

“Thou feelest the cold touch of age,” she said solemnly. “This is the fruit of youth. One bite of its flesh, eaten under the light of a full moon, will banish thy ailments until it is full again. It cannot stave off the grave, or undo the vagaries of age, but it will allow you respite from aches and pains. Keep it well, and it will last you the rest of your days. I ask only that when you have reached your mortal coil’s end, you have its seeds planted. Have we an accord?”

The doctor’s eyes widened, and he was struck speechless. “I…” he stammered, “I don’t know what to say. I cannot accept this.”

“Consider it payment,” Leanan said, “For the offerings you used to leave by my tree in your youth. And think fondly of me in your dotage, Basil.”

“I never told you my name,” the doctor said, taking the apple.

“It took me a moment to remember,” Leanan replied, “But I remember you from your younger days. Many an afternoon I would watch you play in the fields. I appreciated the respect you showed my grove, and the wassails you performed on cold winter nights, when you thought not a soul could see you.”

She gestured to the door. “Go,” she said, “And fare thee well.”

The doctor said nothing, instead hurrying from the room. He trusted the Fae to keep her word, and he knew that he would never see her go, nor would he likely see her again in his life. He wasn’t sure if he was glad of it, or saddened by it.

Leanan waited until the door had closed behind him before approaching the bed. She looked it over, noting the damage done to Cobblestone’s body. Her wounds ran deep, deeper than even the healers here knew. If left untreated, she would slip into a coma and die, despite all the efforts of the doctors and perhaps even the Lady herself. She shook her head. Something would have to be done.

Good evening, came a dry voice from the end of the bed. Leanan jumped slightly, the coolness of her demeanor broken for the briefest moment.

She inclined her head respectfully, as she had been taught to do with her betters. “Good evening, cat,” she replied.

If you intend to harm my new keeper, I’m afraid I shall have to stop you, Hob said, uncurling himself. He yawned and stretched, exposing white-needle teeth.

“I have no such designs,” Leanan said respectfully. “ She is thy master now, not I. I wish her all the luck for it. I did come to have words with thou, but they can be said later. For now, she has need of me.”

What game are you playing? Hob asked shrewdly. You can’t have let me go that easily. I’d been trying far too long for it to end that quickly.

“Hush,” Leanan said, bending over the still form of Cobblestone. She remained in that position for a while, seemingly fascinated by the slow swelling of her chest, deep and rhythmic. “She has the death-taint,” she murmured. “It will claim her unless I act.”

You were never altruistic, Hob said. Why have you changed?

“My own mistress bade me do so,” Leanan said carelessly.

Hob was far less calm now. She got involved? he demanded. Oh, damnation.

Leanan chose not to answer that. Murmuring a few short words under her breath, words that flowed like water, she placed her hooves on the chest of the too-still apprentice, concentrating on her work. To any observer in the room, the only difference they would have noticed was that Cobblestone’s body became a bit more relaxed, and a few lines on her face smoothed. But Leanan’s work was not done yet. Carefully, she leaned towards Cobblestone’s face, her eyes distant, and placed a kiss on her forehead, in between the base of her horn and eyes. Satisfied, she leaned back, her task completed.

“Goodbye, cat,” Leanan said, and without waiting for a response, turned and left the room, vanishing silently through the door and out into the halls.

Hob watched her go before settling into an uneasy sleep. She had provided a much-needed service to Cobblestone, but there was always a price to be paid when taking gifts from fairies. Hob worried about the later cost. It might cost Cobblestone much, but it might cost him more. Sighing, he curled in on himself, feeling the weak beating of Cobblestone’s heart slowly getting stronger as he drifted off to sleep, to await his mistress’s awakening.

In the hallway outside, Leanan smiled to herself, tucking a short lock of brown hair into her bag. Her mother may have told her to make sure Cobblestone would not come to harm, but she had never said how to go about it. A lock of her hair was all she needed, and she would be able to keep a much closer eye on the mare who had taken so much from her.


Twilight Sparkle was drunk. Gloriously, terribly, irresponsibly drunk. She had called an early end to the Evening Court, given strict instructions to her servants that she was not to be disturbed by anypony, and the pony that interrupted her would be taken into the public courtyard and flogged, a punishment that had not been implemented in three hundred years, and then only for the worst sorts of miscreants. She felt that had gotten the message across in a clear and concise manner.

So she had retired to the top of the topmost tower of the Regia, the one that dominated the skyline of Starfall, and with the aid of three bottles of finest scotch, she proceeded to get ridiculously intoxicated.

The view was spectacular. It took in the entire western half of the city, from the third tier out past the first, into the fields and hamlets beyond, and even a bit of the Everfree, which dominated the northern side of the river before it dipped down, cutting through the city and flowing out towards the ocean in the west. Out through another fifty small towns and cities until it reached Crescent City, and from there it went beyond into an ocean which held more than she had thought it might previously.

The setting sun was a rich shade of red, glinting off of the roofs of Starfall, wetted earlier in the day by a freezing rain. It would begin to snow soon, a bad winter made worse by the agitation of the ley lines beneath the city. There was very little she could do to help in that case. The ley lines were not easily trifled with, and even if she did call on them, she could only exert the most menial control over the arcane currents without causing serious side effects, like the ones she was seeing now.

The weather in the Evening Kingdom was unpredictable at the best of times, but the few Pegasi she did employ to watch the skies had told her that the weather had suddenly begun to swing towards the colder a few days back, not just here in Starfall, but over the entirety of the Kingdom. Already the train crews were putting in extra hours to strengthen the de-icing spells on the tracks in the hopes of avoiding delays and accidents caused by the lack of cold. And yet, the weather wasn’t what was bothering her.

A sword hung on her wall above the window, a black blade the shade of the space between the stars, kept in a plain scabbard made of leather in a similar shade, though all that was visible of it was the hilt, luminous silver with an empty socket in the pommel, gaping like the eye socket of a long-dead beast. No other ornamentation did it display to the naked eye, save bands of studded leather, black with spots of bronze, to help with the grip. When looked at with a magical eye of enough power, however, the truth became more apparent.

Runes in the thousands, layer upon layer upon layer of them were etched into the hilt, runes of entropy and destruction and death and things not yet named shone there in such brilliance as to drive lesser minds mad with the implications of what this sword was made to do. Dormant they lay, and dormant they would remain, until they were activated, and even then, they would need to be controlled. Within the hilt of that sword was energy enough to sink continents and boil oceans and crack the very bones of the earth in twain. And that was before the blade had done its work.

Twilight regarded this instrument of death balefully from her chair by the fire, the second bottle of liquor in her hoof halfway gone. She took another swig, lamenting the fact that it took so much to drive her into oblivion now. She did not wish to think about what she had done. About the deals she had made, the bargains she had struck, and with whom.

“I happen to think it was worth it,” came a voice from the doorway.

Twilight didn’t even bother to turn around. “Get out before I have you flogged,” she said.

“I don’t think you’ll have me flogged,” Libra said. “And this isn’t like you. Which means you’re thinking about what you did again.”

Twilight took another belt from the bottle. “Wouldn’t you?” she asked. “After the things I’ve seen? The things I did?”

“Of course,” Libra replied, trotting over to the fireplace and closing the door behind her. “But you’re letting it get to you. This is all part of the plan, remember?”

“This plan is idiotic,” Twilight grumbled. “And I’m not sure if it’s worth it anymore.”

“So after hundreds of years, you’re giving up? Just like that?”

Twilight sighed, laying the bottle aside. “I suppose not,” she said. “But I’ve hurt so many ponies along the way to where I am now.”

“All for the greater good, though,” Libra said reassuringly. “Isn’t that what you said to me?”

“And it’s what Celestia said to me,” Twilight said. “Trading away one life for the good of all. Sometimes I wonder if she might not have been right. By all accounts, it would have been a paradise.”

“You don’t mean that,” Libra said calmly.

“How do you know what I do and don’t mean?” Twilight demanded of her. “Who are you to tell me what to think?”

“You’re acting like a child, Lady Twilight,” Libra said, her voice firm. “And you’ve never shown an issue with what you needed to do before. Why the sudden hesitance now?”

“You know why,” Twilight growled, “The plans always look good on paper, Libra. They always do. But then you start to realize who you’ll be hurting, ponies you know. Ponies you knew,” she said wistfully, staring into the fire. “Ponies long-dead and gone had their lives ruined by me. Am I really any better than Celestia after all? I got power and this is what I did with it.”

“We can’t ever know all of what we’ll do,” Libra said philosophically. “You’ll just need to weigh the good against the bad.”

“There’s a lot of bad on one side of that ledger,” Twilight remarked. She lifted the bottle to her lips, and in four long gulps, drained it dry. “And I haven’t finished adding to it yet.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Libra retorted, “Because you haven’t actually put your plan into action yet.”

“Don’t remind me,” Twilight said bitterly. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“I came to inform you that Cobblestone’s condition has stabilized. She’ll be waking up sometime in the next day or two along with Serale. The doctors contained the frostbite on your daughter and all she’ll receive are a few treatments for her skin to ensure there’s no scarring.”

Twilight thought about that for a moment before slumping in her chair. A single tear rolled down one cheek. “That’s good,” she said. “Oh, thank the Aether. I was worried. They’re both alright.”

“Cadance was right,” Libra said. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened to them. It was beyond your control or mine. And it’s a good thing we got back when we did. Cobblestone had lost control of her magic.”

Twilight said nothing. Libra regarded her suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked suspiciously.

“Do you know what color Cobblestone’s magic is?” Twilight asked suddenly. She rose from her seat and approached one wall of the tower, which housed a small bookshelf.

“A sort of tealish-blue,” Libra responded. “Why?”

“It’s a peculiar shade,” Twilight said. “I first noticed it when I showed her how to use the soulsight, back when she had dinner with me. I’d never seen a color quite like it, or so I thought.”

She withdrew a book from her shelf, an ancient thing with a binding of cracked brown leather and burned, tattered pages. “This book was one of the few things I could recover from the basement fire I set when I left my home in Ponyville,” she said. “And it used to house the soul of Golden Radiance.”

“A Documentation of Talent Marks in the Major Equestrian Houses,” Libra read. “What are you getting at? I know how instrumental that anthology was in your escape, but what does that have to do with Cobblestone? She doesn’t have a Talent Mark, she’s Kingdom-born and so were the last three generations of her family.”

“You’ve been doing some research of your own, I see,” Twilight said. “You’re right, but you need to go back further. Back to a time not covered in most modern anthologies.”

She opened the book to a page marked with a purple ribbon. “Here,” she read. “House Brightstone. A minor house. Talent Mark a cluster of five gems, often diamonds. Of note is their magic, almost always the same shade of hyacinth blue. Those with strong connections to the bloodline exhibit this color, which is found nowhere else. Reasons for this are unspecified.”

“I’m paraphrasing,” she said, shutting the book, “Seeing as the language is a bit archaic. But the point remains. Cobblestone’s magic was that color.”

“So she’s got Brightstone blood in her,” Libra said. “What is your point?”

“You know Serale’s ‘other mother’,” Twilight said, placing the book back on its shelf. “And the fact that she was a descendant of Brightstone herself, but not as strong in the blood. Her magic was a pale green. Two stronger sisters I’ve rarely seen.”

“You knew,” Libra said. “After you made her take that vow, you knew she’d be unable to control her powers.”

“And why would I do that?” Twilight asked, not turning to meet Libra’s gaze.

“You wanted Cobblestone to lose control,” Libra said. “You put her in a place where she’d lose control of her magic, in close proximity to thousands of ponies, including your daughter, and you called me away before I could help her. How long ago did that messenger arrive?”

“Stella arrived nearly a full day before I called you,” the Lady said. “Just before I had dinner with Cobblestone.”

“Why?” Libra demanded. “Why did you wait so long? What were you hoping to gain from letting Cobblestone lose control of her magic like she did? You know she could have killed Serale or worse!”

“It was a countermove,” Twilight said. “Radiant Zenith went missing two weeks after Nightshade’s attack. That alone wouldn’t have been enough to get me out of the way, but to really drive it home, another act of terror was needed.”

“The attack on the prison,” Libra said, her mind racing. “Of course. If they got Cobblestone, they won and made you even more paranoid. If they failed, they just managed to unnerve you.”

“Radiant Zenith is the only ally I have that has more experience than me in this sort of thing as well as my complete trust,” Twilight explained. “I try not to call on her too often, and so I wouldn’t have bothered her. She sometimes disappears, but this would have drawn me away from the castle to investigate what happened to her.”

“And while you were gone, with me in tow, they would have made a move on Serale,” Libra said.

“I don’t think Serale was their target,” Twilight said. “I think Lady Hedera was.”

Libra frowned. “Hedera? Why?”

“She’s well-placed in the palace,” Twilight said, “Perhaps too well-placed. Most of the best servants in my retinue are hers. Most of the best servants in most Houses are products of her training.”

“You think she’s setting herself up for something?”

“I think she’s worth keeping an eye on,” Twilight responded.

“But this doesn’t explain why you decided to let Cobblestone sit next to Serale,” Libra said, “Or why you placed her in the Arena to begin with.”

“They moved,” Twilight said. “They tried to get me out of the city and investigate what happened to Radiant Zenith. My countermove was to activate Cobblestone’s powers and sit her next to Serale. Knowing what you know about Serale, and knowing what you know about Cobblestone’s ancestry, what do you think my hope was?”

Libra’s heart skipped a beat. “You wanted Cobblestone to lose control at the right moment,” she said. “You let that attack go through so that Cobblestone would be overcome with all the stress in the arena and lose control of her magic. You wanted her to reach for Serale’s soul.”

“Ah,” Twilight said, turning to face her. “And now you have it. Keep going.”

“By forcing Cobblestone to reach for Serale’s soul with her magic, you hoped she’d shake loose whatever magical talent Serale had,” Libra said. “You hoped she’d spark the fire in her.”

“Two ponies with souls so close in history,” Twilight said, “How could they not do something extraordinary? And Cobblestone didn’t disappoint me. Her magical bolt not only grounded all of the magical energy she had been collecting from the souls around her, it grounded it in Serale. A lightning strike causing a wildfire.”

“Nearly two thousand are dead from that arena,” Libra said.

“What was it you said?” Twilight retorted, “All for the greater good?”

“You used a filly to spark your own daughter’s development,” Libra said. “That’s why you wanted them together.”

“One of the reasons,” Twilight said. “I do think they have more in common than they realize. I think they will need each other in the times to come. And I think Serale needed her powers to be enflamed now, not later. We don’t have much time, Libra.”

“You really haven’t finished adding to that ledger, have you?” Libra asked quietly.

“You know I haven’t,” Twilight said. “Before all is said and done, the fields of my Kingdom, and all the other lands of Equestria, will be wet with blood. I have to give her all the aid I can.”

She looked to the sword on her wall, and the empty socket in the pommel. The living crystal in her chest flickered sharply as she stared at it, paying no mind to the sun falling from the sky behind the blade.

“After all, she’s going to be the one saving the world, not me. I have another role to play.”

End of Book the First

The Sunfall series WILL continue in the New Year. Be ready.