//------------------------------//
// Ponies of the Vault (2) 
// Story: Ice Hearts 
// by GrassAndClouds2 
//------------------------------//

At least the kitchen, Ditzy thought, was refreshingly free of creepy architecture.

The walls and floor were white tile, interspersed with gleaming silver racks of dishes and cooking equipment. Tall lights blazed at regular intervals around the room and chased away the lingering shadows which seemed to have taken over the rest of the hotel. More fires burned in each of three massive ovens, and Ditzy could see a wide array of pans, trays, and tins baking at various positions within them.

"If Ice Heart and his friends ate before us, and we just ate with Puissance, who's this for?" wondered Cheerilee.

"The servants?" ventured Raindrops.

A door in the back of the room opened and a brown-coated pegasus flew out. Without even glancing towards the Elements, he swooped down to one of the counters and set down the large bag of flour he was holding. He picked up a lump of dough with his forehooves and began to knead it with strong, steady motions. Meanwhile, with his left wing he carefully poured flour into yet another pan, whisking in sugar and salt with his second left wing--

Second left wing?

Ditzy gawked as the pony extended his two right wings to grab more containers, smoothly passing them to the left side of his body even as his hooves kept kneading and his left wings continued to mix the flour with the other basic ingredients. It was such a strange image that she didn't know how to react. She just watched as he worked with an almost ethereal grace, his four wings in constant motion as they manipulated ingredients and passed items from side to side. At any given time, he was doing four or five different things--kneading, scraping the zest from a lemon, measuring out a teaspoon of vanilla, reaching for a fruit mixture--but his motions were so graceful and controlled that he seemed almost to be standing still. Ditzy thought she was a decent baker, good enough at least to keep her little muffin happy, but she knew her talents were nothing compared with this--especially when he had two extra limbs to work with.

Trixie looked at the others. "Alright," she murmured. "I'm going to say hi. This time, let's--"

"Is that a croquembouche?"

The Elements turned to Lyra, who was extending a hoof towards what looked like a cone made up of little pastry balls in one of the ovens. The pegasus looked up too. "I'm sorry?" he asked.

"That's a croquembouche!" said Lyra, hopping up and down. "Oh, I love croquembouche, but they're so hard to make! Bonbon's only made it once, during Hearth's Warming last year, and it took her hours and hours to do it!" She crossed to the ovens in moments and peered inside. "But it was sooo good." A big grin seemed to fill out her entire face. "And is that real demerara sugar?"

"Yes," said the pegasus slowly. "However--while I appreciate your interest, I cannot interrupt my baking--"

"Right, right, of course. Just one more question." Lyra put her forehooves together in a pleading gesture. "Can I have a little bite?"

"All of the Vicereine's servants are welcome to anything I bake unless I designate it for myself, my friends, or the Vicereine..." The pegasus' voice trailed off. "And all of her servants authorized to be here would know that. You don't work for the Vicereine." He froze for a moment before slamming his wings against his side, tucking his lower two wings under his upper two. "Who are you?" he demanded at Lyra. "What do you want?"

Trixie hurried forwards and held up a hoof, moving between Lyra and the baker. "You don't need to be afraid of us," she said. "We're the Elements of Harmony. We're here to protect everypony from the windigo in case anything happens. Princess Luna herself requested us."

The pegasus did not seem mollified. "Does Vicereine Puissance know you're here?"

The Elements exchanged looks before Ditzy said, "Yes. We just ate dinner with her, in fact." She thought that he might not believe they had really met the Vicereine--he looked very nervous--so, recalling that she was said to never wear the same outfit twice, she added, "At dinner, the Vicereine was wearing an emerald-studded dress and a silver necklace with a red ruby at its base."

"The ruby was cut in a pattern commonly found in Caballerian gemstones," added Cheerilee.

At that, the pegasus did relax slightly. "Then you did meet her today. Well, if she vouches for you, I have no objections. You can stay." He lowered his head back to his work, his hooves and wings already beginning to move between the bowls in front of him. "If you would like something to eat, that table there has my finished goods." He pointed at a long table set under a warming rack. "Just don't touch anything in the black-and-red platter. Those are for TIM, and he hates when others take his sweets."

The Elements approached the table. Even though she had just eaten--and was in fact quite stuffed--Ditzy's mouth began to water as the scents of the baked goods wafted towards her muzzle. "They smell delicious," she said, picking up a banana-nut muffin. It was so light and fluffy that its crumbs seemed to hang in the air as they fell. "Thank you."

"So!" said Trixie. "Who are you?"

"My name is Bounty Beaux Baker."

"And who is Tim?" asked Cheerilee.

"TIM is--oh." Bounty glanced to one side and let out a soft sigh. "You'll see in a moment. Like I said, he doesn’t like when ponies eat his sweets."

Confused, Ditzy turned to look at Trixie, only to see her friend munching one of the slices of cake on the platter that was glazed with black and red stripes. The illusionist blushed. "Okay, in fairness to me, this one has bourbon in it. How could I resist?"

The Elements laughed, but before Ditzy could say anything, a flash of darkness crossed the corner of her eye. She turned--and gasped. "Girls, look! Under that door!"

A mixture of what looked like smoke and shadow was pouring into the room, spreading out under the crack in the door and moving through the keyhole as well. Part of the shadow formed into a giant hand which turned the knob and opened the door, releasing a huge mass of the black substance into the room. It paused for a moment, then charged directly at Trixie.

"Uh," said Raindrops. "Bounty? What's going on?"

"WHAT'S GOING ON, YOU ASK?" boomed the smoke. A head formed within it, looking like a black-coated stallion with red highlight in his mane and very sharp teeth. "YOU HAVE DEVOURED SUCCOR AND SUSTENANCE THAT IS NOT YOURS!" A thundering boom echoed from within his body. "NOW YOU MUST FACE THE WRATH OF TITAN! INVINCIBLEUS! MONARCH!"

Ditzy froze, but Cheerilee and Raindrops had already run to her on either side, and the latter put a hoof out to steady her. "Don't worry," growled Raindrops. "Whatever this is, we've got this."

"Girls!" said Trixie as Monarch continued to approach. "Get ready to fight!"

"FIGHT?" laughed Monarch. "YOU WON'T HAVE A CHANCE! FIRST, YOU'LL SUFFER MY WRATH! YOU'LL FALL BEFORE MY POWER! YOU'LL... YOU'LL..."

And then the smoke coalesced into the form of a solid black stallion, who immediately fell over laughing.

"You’ll get really funny looks on your faces!" He was guffawing so hard that tears were coming from his eyes. "You should see yourselves! You’re all so tense you look like you’re going to explode!" He waved a hoof weakly in the air. "Name's Titan Invincibleus Monarch, but you can just call me TIM. Nice to meet ya." He let out a few more giggles before relaxing on the ground. "Hey Bounty. Are these some new recruits Puissance found for us?"

"No. They're here to guard us from the windigo," said Bounty.

"What, even the gray one with the pretty eyes?"

Ditzy blinked. "Um--"

"Hang on," said Raindrops. "That whole smoke-and-thunder thing was a joke?"

"You got it!"

Raindrops growled. "It wasn't very funny."

TIM looked at her for a moment before rolling back to his hooves and prostrating himself in a bow. "Alright. I'm sorry. I was merely trying to add a touch of excitement to an otherwise dull evening. But if I have offended, I humbly beg your pardon." He winked roguishly at Raindrops. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"It's not personal," Bounty chimed in. "He does that to everyone when he first meets them. We're not sure why."

"Just trying to brighten up the place, Triple-B."

"If you want it brighter, maybe you should ask for those permanent rainclouds to be moved away from your house," said Bounty.

“Ah, but my muse, she is a fickle beast. She won’t come out unless the gloom is so thick you can practically taste it.”

Trixie held up a hoof. "Wait. Titan Invincibleus Monarch... TIM, right?"

"At your service, milady," said TIM. "Prankster, jokester, and occasional novelist. Want an autograph?"

"No." Trixie looked at the others, then said, "Your magic. I can 'see' it with a spell, and it only matches one other type of magic I've ever known. In the castle, Princess Luna has a few artifacts enchanted by Sombra... the despot of the Crystal Kingdom. And the magic on those artifacts looks just like the spell you used." She took a breath. "You studied forbidden magic, didn’t you?"

Ditzy and the other Elements moved closer together.  

TIM shrugged cheekily. "Guess you caught me. Knew I shouldn't have sacrificed a gross of carrots to Tirek in exchange for..." His muzzle twitched, and then he burst into laughter again. "Naw, it's nothing like that. I've always been able to go all smokey, ever since I was a little foal. I was a right handful to my parents, let me tell you. Always turning to mist and drifting out the windows..."

Ditzy tilted her head, not knowing what to say. She did observe that Carrot Top looked rather put out, probably thanks to the bit about sacrificing a gross of carrots.

"TIM is a descendant of King Sombra," said Bounty in the resigned tone of one who knew his kitchen would be filled with chatter for several more minutes. "And inherited his powers of turning to smoke and shadow."

"Hey, at least I got one of the good powers. All my cousin DOTTIE can do is make stairways four times as long." He paused. “You really don’t want to know what that stands for.”

Trixie opened her mouth to say something, but Cheerilee hurried forwards. "TIM," she said, "It was very nice of you to introduce yourself, but I have a question for Mr. Baker." Her tone was pleasant, but Ditzy knew her well enough to know that Cheerilee had an ulterior purpose in mind. "Bounty, you said this food was for Vicereine Puissance's servants?"

"Yes." Bounty had moved back to the oven and was using two hooves and all four wings to shuffle the pans, pushing some closer towards the fire and pulling others back. "Why?"

"Well, I noticed there was an awful lot of it," said Cheerilee. "And when we really began to examine it, Mr. TIM showed up and we learned his delightful story. It was so interesting that I almost forgot that you cooked four or five times as much food as you would need for the staff here." Her voice grew syrupy-sweet. "Is there somepony else here with us, Mr. Baker? Is somepony perhaps expected?"

"No," said Bounty. "Not at all."

"Then why all the extra food?"

"Practice." 

Cheerilee paused. “‘Practice?’”

“Yes.” Bounty looked up, and Ditzy saw a frown creasing his features. "I am an artist," he said. "I create with food, just as others create with paint, or marble, or text on a page. To reach the epitome of my craft, I must continuously train myself. I endeavor to bake for at least twelve hours a day. What does it matter if nopony can eat it? I practice, I taste, and I improve."

"You must be rich," Carrot Top said. "To be able to bake so many goods nopony can eat. I mean, I've done some cooking, but I could never train like that."

"The Vicereine pays for everything," said Bounty. "Just like she pays for all of TIM's writing equipment."

TIM nodded. "When I'm not scaring ponies, I'm a novelist. Got my fifteenth book coming out next month. You're all fans of the Love and Magic in Fillydelphia series, right?"

"You write those?" gasped Raindrops. She blushed red, and when she next spoke, she sounded almost reverent. "Those are my favorite romance--" Her gaze suddenly darted back to her friends, several of whom were smiling. "I mean, um, I'm familiar with them."

"Aw, no need to be shy! Everypony loves Fillydelphia!" said TIM. "My best-selling book series! We should talk about it later." He winked again. "Hey, want to know if Sweetie Pie chooses the kelpie or the night-mare in the next book? I might be able to rustle up an Advanced Reader Copy for a fan."

"Breathe, Raindrops," murmured Carrot Top, and Ditzy turned to see that Raindrops' face was shining like Hearth's Warming Eve had come early. "Remember to breathe."

Cheerilee glanced at Trixie before turning back to the baker and the novelist. "Vicereine Puissance provides you with everything you need? That's... generous."

"That was how she persuaded me to move to the Vault," said Bounty. "The promise of the opportunity to pursue my craft at a level I could never reach outside."

"The Vault?" asked Ditzy. She didn't think Stream Dream or Bones had mentioned any vault, and Puissance certainly hadn't. "What's that?"

"It's sort of an..." Bounty hesitated and glanced at TIM before continuing. "Artist's colony. The Vicereine has collected about a hundred and fifty of us ponies and provides us with all that we need in order to excel in our various creative endeavors. For me, she ensures I have access to the finest ingredients and equipment to be found on the continent." He gestured at his dishes, a proud smile crossing his face. "Before I met her, I had to make do with whatever I could afford... coarse flour ground from cheap wheat, whatever fruit happened to be ripe at the moment, a few spices if I was lucky and the traveling merchant got to my village before selling her entire inventory en route. Now..." He sighed wistfully. "If I desire the pulp of a cactus from Tapira or a rare sugar produced by a particular family-owned bakery in Pferdreich, I need only ask, and in a day or two it arrives at my doorstep. There is no comparison."

"And," said TIM, "She got me an agent, a publicist, the very best typewriters... perfect setup." He grinned. "You know, before I moved to the Vault, I spent half my time just on the business end of things. Had to do publicity, contracts, go to literary conventions... and then a paparazzi caught me going all shadow-y, and suddenly everypony was panicking about me being Sombra reincarnated. Couldn't get too many panels after that. But now that Puissance handles all the publicity and business stuff, my only job is to write, and I'm up to three novels a year. Let me tell you--this is the life."

"I agree." Bounty chuckled. "My special talent is baking. That's what I want to do with my life, and that's what makes me happy. But I was spending hours and hours a day on other tasks, things I didn't care about but I had to do anyways just to keep my bakery open. Advertising, cleaning, running the counter, going to court when some upstart stole my recipes... and each chore was another minute, or hour, or day of my life wasted." He shook his head. "I would never have been able to do what I love and just bake out there. But now I can get my twelve hours a day in and still have a few hours left to plan for the next. Vicereine Puissance truly is the most generous patron I could have asked for."

Ditzy, who was beginning to feel slightly creeped out, said, "It sounds like you're very lucky."

"Yeah," agreed TIM. "Trust me, sometimes I don't know how I lucked into this--"

"Luck had nothing to do with it," said Bounty. "The Vicereine saw our talent and potential, and she saw that we would never be able to be our best without support. That was why she offered to help us. But it was us who had the potential in the beginning." He glanced up at Ditzy. "She's always looking for more talented individuals. You might want to speak with her about it later."

"We'll consider it," said Trixie, before Ditzy could respond. "However, right now we're trying to find Ice Heart. We already saw Steam Dream and Bones in the pool, do you know where anypony else is?"

The two looked at each other. "Have you tried the grand ballroom?" TIM asked. “I think Silver was working on her next project there.”

"We'll go there next," said Trixie. "Thanks."

The Elements left the room. Ditzy had to force herself not to run.

***

Ditzy was no longer surprised when she looked into the next room and saw a very unusual pony.

The floor of the ballroom had been covered in a large white tarp, and a block of pure marble had been set in its center. A silver-coated pony was carving into the stone with a hammer and chisel. She had a moderately sized horn, and at first glance she looked almost like Ponyville’s resident librarian Twilight Sparkle. But then she stuck out a wing to steady herself as she chiseled at the top of the marble, and the differences became apparent.

“A pegasus-unicorn hybrid?” murmured Raindrops. “Okay, so that’s one seapony, one null pony, one hybrid, one double pegasus, and one guy of Sombra’s bloodline. What, is she collecting unusual ponies?”

“Not just a hybrid.” Cheerilee pointed. “Look at her wings.”

When the pony turned, Ditzy could see her body in better detail. Most of it looked healthy, but her wings were an exception. They were atrophied and weak, moving slightly as if she were a foal who didn’t have the muscular strength to hold them steady yet. The one on the left was also missing a few feathers.

After another few glances, Trixie stepped forwards. “Hello,” she said. “We--”

With an audible growl, the pony wheeled around. “I’m working,” she snapped. “Don’t interrupt me.”

“We just want to say hello,” said Carrot Top.

“I happen to know that Vicereine Puissance gave strict orders to all her servants that none of us are to be disturbed when in the middle of our artistic endeavors. I shall see to it that she’s notified that you--”

“Oh, calm down Silver,” said another pony. Ditzy turned to see that an orange-coated unicorn was lounging in one of the couches on the side of the room. She had a large tank filled with an orange liquid by her hooves, and she was sketching something on a pad that levitated before her. “It’s not everyday we get to show our wares to new people!” She rolled over and hopped to her hooves. “Hi, I’m Orangerie, and this is Silver Sculptress! I work with oranges, she sculpts. It’s great to meet you!”

Maybe it was just that she seemed to be the first pony in the hotel that seemed genuinely happy to see them, but Ditzy felt herself smiling at the orange unicorn. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said. “We’re the Elements of Harmony--”

“The ones that saved us from Corona? That’s so cool!” Orangerie grinned. “I’ve never met heroes before. Is it true that one of you grew thirty feet tall and punched her pet dragon in the face?”

Raindrops blushed and held up a hoof. “Uh, sort of…”

“That’s so exciting!” Orangerie squeaked. “You know what? Heroes like you deserve something special! I’m gonna make you a glass of my super-special orange juice!” She ran to the tank and began pouring the orange juice into cups. “Did you know this hotel has its own orangerie? I didn’t even know you could grow oranges this far north! But the Vicereine said that this hotel was built to entertain all these big delegations, so they had to make sure it had absolutely everything anypony might want so the delegates would be happy! And I guess they got a bunch of delegates that liked nature cause there's a little greenhouse at the end of the wing." She used her magic to rotate the cups under a continuous stream of juice which she poured from her tank. "The oranges up here are actually really good. I just added a little magic, souped ‘em up, and squeezed ‘em down!” She hoofed a glass to Ditzy. “Try some! It’s the best orange juice you’ve ever had!”

“I don’t know if--” began Cheerilee.

Ditzy smiled. “Of course I’ll try some. Thank you, Orangerie.” She took a sip--and then stiffened at the heavy sensations that crashed through her mind.

It was like every part of her had grown a tongue and was licking an orange simultaneously. It was like she was in a sea of orange juice, letting its citrusy scent waft up her muzzle and its sticky pulp soak into her coat. It was like she was on a beach eating a slice of orange that was bursting with so much flavor it filled up her entire body. It was like she was one with the very essence of oranges.

When she came back to herself several seconds later, she saw everypony staring at her. “Uh,” she said, holding a hoof to her head. “That tasted…” She had to take another moment to think of how to describe it. “Like you took the flavors from a hundred oranges and concentrated them into that one sip.”

Orangerie’s smile grew. “So you like it?”

“I suppose--”

“YAY!” Orangerie cheered. “Now, you try some!” And she shoved a glass into Carrot Top’s hooves.

The farmer blanched. “I’m more of a carrot pony myself…”

“I guess you’re the mad scientist of your artist’s colony?” asked Raindrops.

“Ponies keep saying that, but I don’t feel that mad,” said Orangerie. “I guess I’m more of a happy scientist.” She giggled. “So you know about the Vault, huh? When did VP hire you?”

“Vicereine Puissance,” corrected Silver Sculptress. “She earned that title; it’s only proper to state it and not abbreviate it.”

Orangerie shrugged, though Ditzy thought she saw a faint eye-roll on her part. “Okay. When did you start working for Vicereine Puissance?”

“We’re not her servants,” said Trixie, a slight note of exasperation in her voice. “I’m sorry, but why does everypony keep asking us that? Do you really never meet any new ponies besides her servants? What kind of artist colony is this?”

“A refuge.”

The Elements and Orangerie turned to Silver Sculptress, who, like Bounty, hadn’t looked up from her work. “The Vault is a place where unusual and different ponies can go to live their lives free of persecution, doing what makes them happy without having to hide themselves.There’s a lot of ponies who could do great things, but can’t, because they have both wings and a horn. Or extra wings. Or a tail instead of back legs. Or they aren’t affected by magic. Before, ponies like us had to spend our time trying to fit in so the others would accept us. In the Vault, we can be who we really are.” She finally looked back, her gaze falling on Ditzy. “Does that sound appealing to you?”

“Me?” asked Ditzy, taking a step backwards involuntarily. “Why me?”

“I’m sure a pony with eyes like yours--beautiful though they are--has endured your share of bullying and hate,” said Sculptress. “And the Vicereine, I’m sure, knows it too. I could ask her if she would be willing to let you move to the Vault.  Everypony you met would accept you as you are, not treat you like a freak. You could make true friends like you’ve never had before.” The silver pony nodded. “Are you interested?”

Ditzy felt like something slimy was being draped around her shoulders. There had been a few times in Fillydelphia, during her wild youth, when drunken suitors had hit on her in bars. This felt similar, except more so. “No thank you,” she said at last. “I appreciate the offer, but I have friends--true friends--in Ponyville, where I live now. And none of them look at me as a freak.”

“Do they look at you at all?” challenged Sculptress.

Ditzy’s mouth opened, but she couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Looking at her friends, they seemed at a loss for words as well. Finally, Trixie said, “I’m surprised we hadn’t heard about this colony before. I’d think that word would leak out, even if just from ponies that she asked who said no.”

“I’ve never heard of anypony saying no,” said Orangerie. “I mean, the Vault’s one of the best places to live in the world! No taxes, no monsters, and total security.” She smiled. “If you don’t want to join, that’s totally okay. It’s not for everypony. But she’s asked about a hundred and fifty people so far, and I’m pretty sure just about all of them said yes. We’ve got all kinds of folks, from hybrids, to ponies with special bloodlines or manifestations of their magic, to creatures that aren’t ponies, like a baku tapir. If you don’t fit in anywhere else, you’re welcome there.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” asked Trixie, “What makes you… uh…”

Orangerie smiled warmly. “Special?” she asked. “Turns out I’m a hybrid too--unicorn and earth pony. Went almost my whole life without knowing it, but there it was.” She chuckled. “I actually almost didn’t make it to the Vicereine’s attention. I mean, she has agents out looking for ponies like Bounty and Silver Sculptress, you know? Ponies who don’t fit in and need a safe place to go. But she’d never have found me if she hadn’t started testing all the other ponies in her province.”

Cheerilee blinked. “I’m sorry. Testing?”

“You know how there’s some spells that can let you see a pony’s tribal magic?” asked Orangerie. “They’re useful if you want to see if somepony’s overchanneling, or underchanneling, or doing magic wrong some other way. So the Vicereine launched a big public health initiative in her provinces to have unicorns scanned regularly. It’s actually reduced overchanneling injuries by almost twenty percent, since ponies are catching it early more often. But it turns out those spells can also detect hybrids by seeing if a pony has multiple types of tribal magic. So when I went in to get tested one day… well, that was when I learned I was a hybrid. And that I qualified to live in the best place in Equestria.” Orangerie grinned. “Yeah, that was a good day.”

An uncomfortable silence once again filled the room before Carrot Top ventured, “And the Vicereine brought all one hundred and fifty of you up here?” 

“Oh, no. We wouldn’t all fit in her airship!” Orangerie giggled. “Ice Heart didn’t want to come alone, so she let him pick seven friends. We all came with. The rest are still at the Vault.”

Trixie frowned. “You, Sculptress, Stream, Bones, Bounty, and the Sombra dork,” she said. “We’re missing one.”

“The seventh friend is in her suite,” said Silver Sculptress. “She won’t come out for anypony except the Vicereine herself.”

Orangerie frowned. “She had a… bad life before meeting the Vicereine. She’s very shy. I can try to introduce you later, but it’d probably be best not to bother her right now.”

Ditzy saw Trixie pause and then turn back to confer with Cheerilee. Then Orangerie walked up to her, still grinning. “It’s great to meet you,” she said. “Do you want more orange juice?”

“I’m fine for now. But actually…” A smile crossed Ditzy’s face. As much as Sculptress and some of the other ponies had made her feel nervous, Orangerie, at least, seemed like a genuinely nice pony. “Could I take some home with me when we leave? I have a feeling my little muffin might enjoy some.”

“I’ll pack you a bottle,” said Orangerie. “Foals can’t have too much orange juice, that’s what I always say. What’s the name of yours?”

“Dinky Doo,” said Ditzy. “Do you have any foals?”

Orangerie tilted her head. “Well, actually--”

“Ditzy!” called Trixie. “Don’t get too distracted. We need to keep looking.”

Ditzy frowned, but quickly said goodbye to Orangerie and went back to Trixie. “What’s wrong?”

“We still haven’t found Ice Heart,” said Trixie. “And I’m starting to get worried. Come on.”

As they left the room, Trixie leaned in close to Ditzy. “And, uh… if you’re getting creeped out by all this attention, you can take a break or something. I mean, I’d probably be weirded out if other ponies kept focusing on me like that.”

Ditzy thought for a moment. Orangerie was nice, but the rest of them… in all honesty, when Silver Sculptress looked at her, she felt almost like a zoo exhibit. Now that Trixie mentioned it, a short break would be nice. “I'll find one of the servants and have them get my coat, and then I’ll just step outside for a few minutes,” she said. “Clear my head. Meet you back here in fifteen?”

Trixie nodded. “You got it.”

***

Vicereine Puissance was standing in the snow-filled courtyard when she saw Dame Ditzy step outside.

The courtyard was a small square set between the hotel’s four wings that was open to the outside elements. Illuminated only by the moon and a few torches that shone through the windows of the hotel, it was a dark and shadowy place. Ditzy’s gaze passed over the dark corner in which Puissance was standing without pausing for a moment, and the Vicereine concluded that the mare had missed her. She, however, could see Ditzy just fine, as the younger pegasus had stopped under a lighted window.

The mailmare was wearing a new brown jacket with only a faint few scuff marks to indicate use. It was a heavy jacket, the kind that cost money, and so was perhaps a superficial indication that Ditzy had some financial means. But that thought was belied by Ditzy’s motions; she walked carefully through the deep snowdrifts, keeping a good bit of clearance not just from the walls of the hotel but from the trees and other objects in the courtyard. She walked so gingerly it was like she was afraid of the coat. Or, more precisely, like she was afraid of damaging it.

These were feelings Puissance well understood, though she of course had never needed to worry about such things. She could imagine the mailmare scrimping and saving for months, eating grass for lunch and begging off on social activities, to accumulate enough bits to purchase a brand new jacket. When she bought it, she was likely quite excited as she tried it on, imagining the comfort with which she could endure the most punishing winter weather. But as soon as the bits changed hooves, doubt would begin to creep in. If she damaged the coat, ripped it in any way, then all that comfort could be lost as the wind slipped in through the cracks and again chilled her to the core. Furthermore, she wouldn’t be able to afford another such coat for quite some time; she would have blown her only chance and would be condemned to the cold for yet more months. So she had to move as if she were wearing a coat made of teacups and eggs, hesitant to even brush it against another surface for fear of breaking it.

It was almost sad, Puissance thought, and what’s worse, it was so unnecessary. Ditzy Doo was an Element of Harmony. She had saved Equestria multiple times over. If she wanted a new jacket, all she needed to do was look up some clothiers and offer her friendship. Half of them would be so overwhelmed with gratitude for their saviour that they would give her a wonderful new jacket on the spot, and the other half could easily be persuaded to part with it in exchange for some public endorsement by a national hero. If she only understood the kind of riches she could have, Ditzy would never be cold or hungry again. Puissance shook her head. It was too bad that some mares just couldn’t grasp such things.

Of course, Puissance was not among those mares. She glanced down at the ruby around her neck and smiled. If offered at auction, it would likely go for tens of millions of bits. And yet she had picked it up for the price of a postcard…

It had been several decades ago, only a few months after her parents had retired and Luna had graced her with the title of Vicereine. She had taken to her duties with the care and diligence demanded of any decent member of the House of Optiebeurs-Golo, but in her few free moments, she had begun traveling through her provinces and seeing what there was to see. She needed to know every detail, she had thought, about the territories Luna had graced her with the privilege of ruling, and what better way to learn than to actually go to each of her villages, towns, and major cities, and explore them for herself? That would give her a much better understanding of what she owned than just reading some bureaucrat’s report. And, as an added bonus, there were some astounding treasures that had been forgotten in the most unlikely of places, just waiting for a smart young mare like Puissance to seek them out.

The day when she had found the ruby had begun like any other of her expeditions. She had arranged for transportation to yet another little town in Palomino, a farming community on its border which had never produced any notable citizens or witnessed interesting events in its entire existence. Her jewel-studded carriage had deposited her just out of sight of the town, and after instructing it to come back in the evening, she had disembarked and begun to walk. After a quick circuit of the town to get the lay of the land, she sought out a citizen who looked like he knew something ,and asked to see the most interesting treasures or sights the town had to offer. Citizens didn’t always want to help her right away, especially if they didn’t recognize her, but she was the Vicereine and her special talent was authority. They yielded in the end.

Sometimes they took her to someplace lovely; a little museum with works of art by some skilled local painter, or a statue garden set in a bucolic park, or a library which contained some rare and forgotten works by great scholars. And sometimes the town truly had nothing of importance to offer, in which case she found herself looking at a sagging dance floor which was the town’s grandest social venue, or a run-down historical society which only demonstrated the village’s total lack of worthwhile history, or Equestria's third-largest ball of twine. But this day was different. Puissance found herself being led to the town’s only four-story building and up three flights of narrow, cramped stairs. At its top was a studio apartment, and in that apartment was a mare who was richer than any of the big-city elites Puissance had met in her wanderings. The mare hadn’t wanted to talk to her either, not at first, but Puissance knew how to invoke her authority. She was in the apartment within five minutes, and she learned the occupant’s tale soon after.

The mare’s name was Red Rose. She had--as Puissance learned over a few cups of some truly dreadful tea--married young to a rich old stallion who was on his last legs and had wanted a pretty wife to take care of and comfort him in his final days. She had played her part to perfection, dutifully tending to his every whim, ministering to his increasing pains, and professing how fortunate she was to have met such a wonderful pony before he left the world forever. They had been married at his hospital bedside in a heartwarming ceremony; the stallion had even declared that he thought himself the luckiest pony in the world to meet a wife who was so attentive and caring even to one as sick and weak as him. When he died a month later, of course, she inherited everything.

But then a funny thing had happened. Red Rose, having gained millions of bits, found herself feeling something very much akin to shame. She had tried to bury herself in luxury, but even at its most decadent, her material gains couldn’t make her feel better. Nor, as it turned out, did the donations of staggering sums to worthy charities. Beset by ennui and unease, she had retired to a quiet life in an unknown town as she tried to figure out what to do with her life. In Puissance’s judgement, she hadn’t worked it out yet.

The Vicereine hadn’t cared one whit for the mare’s story, but her gaze had been drawn to a particular ruby sitting on a mantel as soon as she had entered. She knew well what it was; she studied notable gems and jewelry pieces frequently, knowing that she was likely to come across some in her travels and needed to know what they were in order to have a chance of acquiring them. The famous Fire Ruby of Ink Blot, one of a set of seven famous magical gemstones, was apparently one of the many possessions that Red Rose had inherited. Puissance wanted that ruby. But she could tell--from Red Rose’s meandering, self-pitying, and deeply boring story--that money would be no help in obtaining it. Red Rose didn’t want money; she had too much of it already. Puissance would need to find another way, and for the first time, she wasn’t quite sure how.

When her carriage finally brought her back to her own estate, Puissance convened a meeting of her advisors and confidants and demanded their advice. Some suggested she try to shame Red Rose, using the power of her office to call her out for manipulating a dying stallion into willing her his entire fortune, and thereby driving her to donate the results of that manipulation to a suitable charity in penance--such as a charity that was owned by a corporation that was owned by a trust that was owned by the Vicereine. Others thought she should look for Red Rose’s friends and lean on them to urge Red Rose to give up the ruby. One suggested that Puissance hire a burglar to just steal the ruby and was fired on the spot. Puissance wanted that gem, but she wasn’t going to risk all her other possessions and her freedom for it. Besides--she wanted that gem to be hers. And if she had to keep it secreted away for fear of discovery, if she woke up at night terrified that some servant or janitor had recognized it and contacted the authorities, if she felt a jolt of fear every time Luna summoned her in case it was to arrest her for taking that gem… well, then it wasn’t really hers, was it? That gem wouldn’t be hers until she could display it, plain as day, to the entire world if need be. Theft was out of the question.

In the end, one of her father’s advisors, a venerable old stallion named Winsome Wisdom, had a suggestion. Red Rose seemed to want spiritual peace, he said, so why not provide it? Find a monastery or a religious order that would accept her and teach her how to cleanse herself of her sins. Most of those orders required novices to cast off worldly possessions, and Puissance could be there to catch them when they fell. Even if they didn’t, Red Rose would surely be grateful enough to the mare who taught her how her soul could be saved that she wouldn’t begrudge her a little present.

The scheme worked perfectly. Puissance wrote to a spiritual leader in Niqab, a camel named Enduring Peace who had long been a friend of the House of Optiebeurs-Golo, and asked him to, as a favor, take on a new initiate. Enduring Peace, whose sect had been saved when Puissance’s mother had successfully pressured other religious orders in Niqab to allow it to exist without fear of destruction, was only too happy to repay the favor. Red Rose’s face had lit up with what was likely her first genuine smile in years when Puissance told her the news; she had embraced the Vicereine in a massive hug, thanked her profusely, and even wept in gratitude at having found such a good friend. She departed for Enduring Peace’s sect that very night, pausing only to insist upon giving Puissance some gift--and though Puissance said she didn’t want anything, she let her gaze land on the Fire Ruby for just a few moments, and when she left that village for the last time ever, she did so with that gem around her neck--and several more in her saddlebag to boot.

Yes, thought Puissance, it had worked well for everypony. Red Rose couldn’t be happier; she wrote Puissance every month, telling her about her new spiritual advancements and how she was becoming a better and better pony, all thanks to her friend the Vicereine. Puissance had long ago hired another pony to read and respond to those letters, of course, but it was quite an achievement to have a mare’s friendship more than half a century later just because of one single deed. The Vicereine had also seen to it that some of Red Rose’s other property had, once she abandoned it, made its way back to the stallion’s other heirs; they were so grateful for her ‘intervention’ that they had publicly praised her, completely unprompted, to Luna when the Princess arrived in Palomino on an inspection tour. And, of course, Puissance had started her collection of Ink Blot’s seven magical gemstones. All for the price of a letter to Niqab.

The thought of letters made her frown. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t think Red Rose had written her in several months. Had something happened to her? Surely she hadn’t died of illness or old age or anything; Puissance felt sure she would have been notified by Enduring Peace’s successor. Her secretary probably just hadn’t mentioned it…

“Oh! Vicereine, I didn’t see you there.”

Puissance was broken out of her thoughts by Ditzy’s voice. “Dame Ditzy,” she said, inclining her head slightly at the bowing mare. “Don’t worry about it. I was lost in my thoughts. Please do forgive an old mare her eccentricities.”

“Of course,” said Ditzy. 

“May I ask what you’re doing out here?” asked Puissance. “I hope the hotel is to your satisfaction.”

“It is. I just wanted to get some fresh air.” Ditzy smiled up at the moon. “We don’t usually have such heavy snowfall in Ponyville. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Puissance nodded. “I always liked snow,” she mused. “Especially fresh snow.”

“Me too,” said Ditzy. She found herself thinking of when she had first come to Ponyville, an unwed pregnant mother that was fleeing the shame and scorn of all those who had known her in Fillydelphia. It had been snowing then too. “It’s a clean environment, isn’t it? Wipes everything clean and gives ponies a chance to make new marks without worrying about the old.”

“Or to make no marks at all.” Puissance said, her own thoughts miles away as well. “Have you ever looked around even a few hours after a snowfall to see how so much of it has gone gray as ponies trampled it? It’s surprisingly hard to preserve fresh snow; a single hoofstep can ruin it. Last year, for my provinces’ first snowfalls, I issued a decree that no hoofstep was to be taken on any of my estates for a full week after the snow came down. Every day that week I awoke to a pure sheet of white around my residence, stretching as far as the eye could see. To look at that perfect beauty, protected even as every other field was trampled underneath hundreds of hooves… it was something quite extraordinary.”

The two mares were silent for a long moment before Ditzy said, “If you don’t mind me asking, aren’t you cold, Vicereine? You’re not wearing a jacket.”

Puissance smiled and brought up one hoof to lift up her ruby and show it to Ditzy. “This is one of Ink Blot’s seven magical gemstones. This particular stone, the Fire Ruby, provides heat. As you can see,” she held out a wing and waited for a few snowflakes to fall on it and immediately evaporate, “It keeps me warm without needing a bulky coat.”

Ditzy’s eyes widened. “That’s incredible,” she said. “Where did you get it?”

“A gift from an old friend.” Puissance lowered the gem and sighed. “But, as much as I enjoy the snow, I feel I should rest soon so that I am ready for the windigo tomorrow. Please excuse me, Dame Ditzy. And enjoy your night.”

“Of course, Vicereine.”

Puissance flew up into the air and glided over the snowdrifts before landing by the door Ditzy had exited from. It hadn’t slipped her notice that Ditzy had used the door connecting to the west wing, where Puissance had ordered them not to go, but that was fine. She had known that it was inevitable that the Elements would meet the Vault ponies she had brought with her on this trip, but this way, she had at least gotten them to violate her request to respect her guests’ privacy, which she could use if the Elements tried to cause trouble for her later. Besides. If Trixie offended the Vault ponies--which seemed almost to be her special talent--it would just reinforce to them the idea that outside ponies, even heroes, would never understand them. That only in the Vault would they be safe.

Smiling to herself, Vicereine Puissance entered the hotel.

***

Ditzy watched the Vicereine leave before slumping down. She hadn’t meant to go off on a tangent; in fact, when she had seen the Vicereine, she had meant to just turn around and go back inside. But Puissance had been staring off into space for so long that Ditzy had felt obligated to see if she was okay, and then one thing had led to another and Ditzy found herself babbling about snow.

She sighed. It had been a long day. Travel always took a lot out of her, and between the creepy hotel, the overbearing Vicereine, and the strange ponies who seemed to think she was one of them, it was a lot to take in. She hoped they found Ice Heart soon so that she could go to bed. Maybe everything would feel better in the morning.

Something moved at the very edge of her peripheral vision. It was a snowdrift, she thought, but then realized that it wasn’t drifting. It was just shaking slightly, like it was laughing at her. 

She turned towards it, saw it immediately go still, and began meandering in its general direction. When she reached it, she paused for a moment, then lunged down and plucked up the top of the snowdrift. It wriggled in her grasp before shaking snow off itself and revealing it to be a giggling foal.

Specifically, a giggling foal who seemed to be half made out of ice.

The colt had an orange coat, feathery wings, and straw-colored hair, but veins of cloudy ice ran through all of them, some large enough that it looked more like veins of hair and feathers were running through the ice. One of his eyes was a bright blue color, and the other was glassy ice. When his tail flicked, bits of snow broke off of him and fell to the ground below.

For a moment, Ditzy didn’t know what to do, but then the foal burst into a big smile and the mailmare couldn’t help but smile back. “Aw, you caught me!” said the foal. “I thought I was real quiet!”

“You were,” said Ditzy. “You’re very good at hiding.” She set the foal down. “Ice Heart?”

“Uh huh!” said the colt, nodding quickly. “That’s me! And you must be Ditzy Doo!”

“I am.” Ditzy knelt so she was level with the foal. “You know about me?”

“Of course I do!” said Ice Heart, grinning. “You’re the Element of Harmony with the really cool eyes!”