//------------------------------// // Clarity // Story: Under Her Wings // by Karrakaz //------------------------------// “Mead. I need a drink.” Honey Mead looked up from his stove with two eyebrows raised. It wasn’t the request being made of him; the kitchens of the castle never really closed, just as there were ponies milling about at all hours of the day. It wasn’t the sentence itself that surprised him; guards and staff alike came into his kitchens asking for the same thing. It wasn’t even that it had come during his personal time, during which the staff knew not to disturb him. No, what surprised Mead was that he found the princess herself when he looked up. She had taken a seat at the small relaxation table the cooks used when they took a break and looked at him from behind a mask of impassivity. She looked tired and tense; nothing new in the grand scheme of things, but going by her request, he suspected that there was more to it than that. He shook his head and turned down the heat on the stove he’d been using for one of his experiments and walked over to the table. “Normally, I would tell you to go find a bar—” he said with a smile. The princess’ mask broke and she glared at him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. “—but I guess I can make an exception this time.” Though the kitchens themselves were already lower than the ground floor on which the castle had been built, another spiraling staircase lead down to the wine cellar which was as cold and damp as any rarely visited area. It was a veritable labyrinth of seemingly randomly positioned aging barrels and wine racks, to the point where Mead always wondered who had been responsible for their creation. He knew the area like he did his own hooves and had little difficulty locating a particularly strong batch of vodka. It was one of only a few bottles he had received from a friend in Stalliongrad, and while he himself found the stuff to be too potent, it was one of the few beverages of which he was fairly certain would actually do anything for the princess. While the vodka was easy to find, a shot glass turned out to be the more rare commodity. Likely because all of them were in use by the apprentice cooks who were on a break. Mead eventually found one tucked away in a storage cupboard, but by the time he got back to the table, the bottle was already half empty, and Celestia showed no signs of stopping. She smacked her lips when there was no more vodka to be had and grimaced at the bottle. “Bleh, this is terrible,” she said before setting it down with a sigh. “Whoever came up with that had no appreciation for taste.” Her head came to rest on the table and she listlessly stared out over the kitchens. “Mead?” Shaking off his amazement, Mead pulled up a chair and sat down opposite his ruler. He’d dealt with drunken ponies before, and from experience, he knew that the only thing most drunk ponies needed was camaraderie. Be it a target to vent their frustrations, a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to make merry with, he had seen it all; he had never seen a drunken alicorn, however. “Princess?” “Why is it that every decision I make seems to be the wrong one?” Though the princess’ tone of voice was near enough perfectly neutral, Mead had known her long enough that he could pick out the small strains in her inflection. Princess Celestia was an emotional drunk. “Well, if you ask me, it’s because you stretch yourself too thin.” An eyebrow went up and Celestia’s gaze shifted to him. He answered with a short laugh. “Even an alicorn like yourself has limits. There’s only so much time in the day. If you try ’nd do everything by yourself, there’s always gonna be things that go wrong.” “If it were just a few mistakes, I’d agree,” Celestia replied, closing her eyes with a sigh. “But it seems that ever since I decided to take on Twilight Sparkle as my student, things have been going from bad to worse.” With a smirk, Mead leaned forward and asked, “Do you think she’s a spy? She’s small, intelligent, cute enough that nopony would think twice... It’d be the perfect cover.” The princess snorted. “Oh yes, thirty-seven centuries of rule decimated by a nine-year old. The tabloids are going to have a field day.” The smile that had appeared on her face didn’t last long and she let out another sigh. “No, it just feels like mistakes of the past are catching up with me.” Mead shrugged. “Nothing to be done about that but damage control, Princess.” Celestia nodded noncommittally. “Want me to get you something to eat?” Mead asked, motioning towards the stove where his latest culinary experiments were bubbling away softly. “Maybe another bottle of vodka?” With—for a drunken pony—surprising clarity, Celestia sat up and shook her head. “No, I should...” She let out yet another sigh. “I should be out finding answers.” “Anything I can help with?” Mead asked helpfully. He wondered if he had been mistaken about the princess’ sobriety when Celestia fixed him with an intense, yet thoughtful, gaze. Did alcohol even affect the princess? “How old is Sweet Pea now? Thirteen? Fourteen?” “Thirteen, last time I checked,” Mead replied, nonplussed. “She’s done a fair bit of crying, yes?” Celestia smiled wanly, looking down at the table. “Of course she has; that goes without saying...” She looked back up at Mead. “What in the world could possess a filly to treat a carefully prepared speech about how things are going to be better as a death sentence?” Her voice was thick with emotion which she wasn’t even trying to hide. “Erm...” Mead scratched the back of his neck. “You’re gonna have’ta tell me a little more than that, but... you don’t make a speech to talk to kids. You just tell ‘em how you feel.” “I did!” Celestia all but shouted, flaring her wings and waving her hooves for emphasis. “I apologized for being too busy, and told her that there were some things that couldn’t be done without my explicit orders, but that I would try to make every effort to delegate those tasks that do not require my attention directly.” “’nd she...started crying, just like that?” “Yes.” Mead stroked his beard for a while, but eventually shook his head. “Sorry, Princess, I don't have a clue.” “Sometimes, smart foals learn to read between the lines of what is being said. Combined with low self-esteem, copious stress, or fear, however, it can lead them to assign a negative connotation to whatever is said, no matter how positive the intention of the speaker.” Both Celestia and Mead looked over to the stairs where Sunny just stepped down from the last rung. “And where did you learn all of that from, Sunny?” Celestia asked, recovering from her surprise a lot faster than Mead did. “Psychologist,” Sunny replied, taking a seat next to Mead and glaring at Celestia. “Now, I would like to know if you meant what you said about wanting to take more time to be a teacher to your student.” “Of course I did!” Celestia replied hotly. “I just felt that it wouldn't be—” “Because it seems to me like you still took over court at even the slightest hint of something not going the way you wanted it to,” Sunny continued as though Celestia hadn't even opened her mouth at all. Mead got to his hooves and made his way to his workstation, filling a pot with water and setting it on the stove to boil. If his kitchen was to become a battleground between the Princess and her close aide, the least he could do was provide something to drink, and stay out of the way. Celestia looked at Sunny with only a hint of remorse. “Sunny, I am sorry, truly, but you must admit that the suddenness of the change rubbed many ponies the wrong way.” She gestured to her aide with a hoof. “Including yourself. It was unfair of me to expect you to immediately handle such a—” “Enough, Princess!” Sunny slammed the table with both hooves and stood, her glare only increasing in intensity. “You 'handle' unexpected crises and problems on a daily basis, and that is in addition to all of the paperwork and bureaucratic tomfoolery that we are surrounded by. Yet, when I make plans that come with my new job to ensure that court runs smoothly, you overrule me within the first week!” Celestia felt well and truly chastised, her wings drooping at her sides while her ears folded back. She smiled wanly when she noticed Mead's encouraging grin and shrugged. “I do not know what I can do other than offer you my apologies, Sunny,” she said, nodding gratefully when Mead held up a bag of her favorite tea blend. “I did what I did, not to undermine your new position, but because I wanted to try and save you the feeling of pure exhaustion I’ve been dealing with for so many years.” The teal unicorn huffed and finally relented with her glaring. “What did I tell you about mothering, Princess?” she asked gruffly. Celestia smiled. “I know, Sunny. However, it seems that I should endeavour to be more motherly if I want to take care of my student, not less.” "I said ‘be less motherly’, not ‘ignore the poor child for the day while you preempt me from doing the job you asked me to do’." Sunny replied testily. "Leaving a child her age by herself is just asking for trouble." “Speaking of taking care of the little miss,” Mead said, setting three cups of scalding hot tea down on the table. “I heard that she had a little problem of her own in the courtroom today. Is she alright?” “She’s fine,” Celestia replied moving her own cup a little closer and taking a whiff. “A little scared, but otherwise fine.” “Well, that, and the fact that she’s convinced herself that you are going to be disappointed with her no matter what she does,” Sunny added. “I think that all this could have been avoided if you had kept an eye on your student as planned.” Mead shook his head. “Nah, fillies need a chance to explore every now and again. As long as you make sure that they get enough food and sleep, the rest will sort itself out.” He looked at the princess and, despite Celestia's efforts to look completely impassive, asked, “You did make sure she ate, didn't you, Princess?” Celestia let out a deep sigh and shook her head. “It seems I have a lot to apologise for today... Sorry, Mead. My mind was on other things when I woke up and I didn’t see her again until she quite literally ‘dropped’ into my lap.” She leaned back and looked at the ceiling murmuring to herself; “Still can’t figure out how she got up there.” “So she went without eating for an entire day?” Mead’s hoof met his face and he dragged it off with great difficulty before stalking up to Celestia and poking her in the chest with a hoof. “If you weren’t a close friend, and big as you are, I would smack you silly. Rule number one if you truly intend to take care of little Miss Twilight Sparkle: Make sure she eats.” His entire speech felt so bizarrely out of place that Celestia half expected a curtain to close. Part of her wanted to roll her eyes and smile, but Mead’s anger was undoubtedly genuine and so she nodded and placed a hoof on Mead’s shoulder instead. “I understand. I realise it must seem strange to the both of you that there are things in which I make mistakes but—” “Not at all, Princess,” Sunny interrupted her. “If I had gotten a bit for every mistake you would have made without me while dealing with your council, in court, and in your public speeches; I would have been able to retire after five years.” Celestia glanced over at her head chef, only to see his previous anger replaced by a smug grin. “Do I really have’ta point out the times you didn’t eat for days?” She sighed deeply and smiled. “You’re right. I’ve gotten so absorbed in presenting a facade of perfection to the public that I fear I’ve started to believe in my own lies.” When both Sunny and Mead opened their mouths, she held up a hoof to forstal their response. “While I genuinely wish to teach and guide Twilight Sparkle, I fear that more mistakes are inevitable.” She gave both of them a piercing look. “This is the first time in... ever, that I’ve had to guide a filly only nine—” She stopped and shook her head with a smile. “Eight years and nine months old. I would like to ask both of you to tell me if and when I do something wrong, and if at all possible, help me understand the how and the why of it.” “My pleasure, Princess.” “Agreed, on one condition.” This time, Celestia did roll her eyes and focused on Sunny. “And what would that condition be?” Sunny smiled grimly and said, “No more court unless I explicitly ask for your assistance.” Celestia laughed. “And here I was thinking you were going to tell me that keeping Twilight out of trouble would be your condition.” Sunny shook her head with a smile that turned friendlier by the second. “I’ve had an eight-year-old daughter of my own, Princess. That would be asking the impossible, and I wouldn’t do that to you.” They all laughed after that, though Celestia couldn’t help the worry that sneaked into the back of her mind. So this wasn’t the last time Twilight nearly killed herself? it wailed, making Celestia suppress a shiver. She finished the rest of her tea and inclined her head. “Thank you both for the rebuke and the advice. Now, I think I will go keep an eye on my student; and possibly get some sleep myself.” “As should I,” Sunny said with a nod. “Court starts early tomorrow...” She took a sip from her tea, which, until then, had remained untouched and regarded the cup appreciatively. “At least... after I finish this tea.” Mead laughed and smacked Sunny on the back, making her groan softly. “That’s the spirit.” He then turned and nodded at Celestia. “G’night, Princess.” Celestia got up and ascended the stairs back to the Grand Dining Hall, only barely rounding the corner before Mead’s muted voice caught up with her. “Did you know that alicorns are immune to alcohol?” It was one of the few times she had ever heard Mead speak of anything with awe. She stifled a giggle and the resulting smile accompanied her all the way back to her room. Of course, she only realised that she had forgotten something important the moment she opened the doors, and when she looked to the side of said doors for somepony to help her fix that little mistake, she realised that there were more ponies she owed an apology to. Rook and Aegis had been her personal guards for a little over three years, which, as far as their positions went, was an eternity. After... the incident, she had—subconsciously or not—tried to do away with many things that reminded her of her sister in one way or another. While the regular castle and town guards had gotten away with having a night shift, due to fierce lobbying by her then commander of the guard; her personal guards... hadn’t. They were supposed to be with her throughout the day, eating, and even sleeping, just outside the doors of her room if she remained within them. It was a grueling job, which most ponies gave up on within a fortnight, and the ones that didn’t rarely lasted more than a year. When she arrived at the big double doors that led to her room, Rook was asleep on his hooves. A breach of protocol in the strictest sense, but one which she assumed had allowed them to function within their capacity for as long as they had. She quelched a small ache in her chest when a memory of her reprimanding one of her personal guards for something similar not ten years before caught up with her. “Aegis?” The stallion snapped to salute. “Yes, Your Majesty?” he replied loudly, presumably to give his partner in anti-crime a chance to wake up before she’d noticed the indiscretion. She sighed when Rook shook off his slumber and quickly stood at attention as well. “At ease, gentlecolts...” she watched them relax a little, silently debating how to go about what she was about to do. “In fact... you are both dismissed.” The stallions’ postures became rigid and they gave one another a concerned look. “Are you... firing us, Your Majesty?” Aegis asked tentatively. Celestia quickly shook her head. “No. You’re not fired, either of you. I’ve just...” she sighed again and looked from them, to the floor, and back. “I’ve just been thinking about how absolutely indispensable the two of you are to me, and I wanted to give you a break.” It quickly became clear just how overworked either of them were when Aegis’ jaw slackened and he whispered, “A break...” as though it were an impossible dream. “Yes, a break. Go get something to eat, talk with some of your colleagues at the bar, get a good night’s rest.” Rook grunted. “Thanks, Princess. But no thanks.” Celestia couldn’t believe her ears. “I thought you two of all ponies would jump at the chance to get some free time.” “Don’t misunderstand, Princess,” Aegis continued in Rook’s stead. “We appreciate the sentiment, but our place is right here with you.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof and gave her a sheepish smile. “We haven’t slept in the barracks for so long that I doubt I’d remember where my bunk is.” “If it’s still yours,” Rook added, stifling a yawn behind his hoof. Aegis shot him a sideways glance and nodded before looking back at Celestia. “Right. So, thank you, Your Majesty. But we’ll stay right here if that’s okay.” Their sentiment moved Celestia. Such dedication was something she should have suspected, but hearing them say it out loud made it tangible and wonderful. She affected a neutral look and shook her head softly. They are going to take that break, even if I have to make them. “It’s not okay, guardsman. I understand, and appreciate your dedication, but both of you have been working far too hard for my sake, and if I must, I will order you to take a break and take care of yourselves for a change.” “Princess...” Aegis trailed off and looked at her uncomfortably. “Princess, if I may?” Rook moved from his designated location without waiting for her reply and positioned himself next to Aegis, looking up at her with defiance. “I won’t follow that order even if you give it.” Aegis looked to Rook, alarm written all over his face but before he could say anything, Rook continued, calmly as though he wasn’t addressing his sovereign ruler. “You see, Princess... while we understand and appreciate your concern, we’ve been your guards for close to four years now.” In an unprecedented display of emotion, Rook actually smiled, which caught Celestia off guard as much as the rest of his speech did. “During that time, we’ve seen you push yourself harder than anypony. All for the sake of the country and ponies like us; often without sleep or a proper meal. Aegis and I are just trying to repay you for all of that, even if it’s just a little bit. So we’ll be staying right here, unless there’s something you need from us.” Celestia looked at him disbelievingly, and then transferred that disbelief over to Aegis who hastily nodded his assent and said, “Sorry, Your Majesty, but I agree with him.” Before, she was touched. Now, she was overwhelmed. “Thank you,” she said at length. “Both of you. And yes, there is something I want you to do for me.” The two of them saluted, Aegis almost smacking Rook upside the head because they were so close to one another. “Anything, Your Majesty.” Celestia smiled at them and in a saccharinely sweet voice said, “Go into my chambers before I throw you in there.” The two looked at eachother one more time before tentatively following her orders. Celestia watched them open the door before she turned and scanned the hallway, calling out to a maid that just rounded the corner. “Could you please go to the kitchens and ask Honey Mead to prepare three full meals for myself and my guards? Oh, and an extra big pot of tea, if possible.” The maid nodded, bowed, and hurried off to fulfil the task she had been given. Celestia then followed her guards into the room and found them standing off to the side, looking uncertain and stealing glances over at the monstrous pile of blankets that Twilight had somehow managed to create in her sleep. She smiled at the two of them and then began levitating the pile of pillows that she kept in her room over to the wall next to the door, pointing at them when she considered them sufficiently soft enough. “Sit, please.” Sitting down was more of a challenge for the stallions than spending an entire day in one place was. They almost awkwardly folded their legs beneath themselves and looked up at her for further directions. Celestia for her part smiled at them. “Now, the two of you can sit there and observe, or try to relax a little while I work, I don’t much care which. You could even sleep a little if you were so inclined.” When Aegis opened his mouth she held up a hoof to silence him. “I’ve instructed a maid to bring us some food, so while whether or not you relax is up to you, I expect the both of you to at least share a meal with me once she returns.” Aegis made a few more fish-on-dry-land imitations before eventually settling on, “Yes, Your Majesty.” After that was taken care of, Celestia made her way over to the bed and gently unwrapped Twilight from the blankets which she had entangled herself in. The filly’s mane was plastered to her skull and she was covered in sweat. Celestia suppressed the worry that rose in the back of her mind, and gave Twilight a soft nuzzle before making her way over to the pile of papers that held her desk. She levitated two pillows over and lit a candle which she held up with her magic while she opened the first missive she encountered. Two hours later, after an excellent meal and some precious idle banter with her guards, Celestia was still working through the first stack of documents. It was slow going, especially since her mind kept mulling over what Sunny and Mead had told her. Tomorrow, she told herself while letting her gaze rest on the three sleeping ponies in her room. I’ll do better tomorrow. Twilight woke up to the first rays of the sun, and immediately wished that she hadn't. The princess hated her and had made it clear that she wouldn't let Twilight mess with her schedule any more, no matter how politely she had phrased it. Life was awful. She just wanted to go home as soon as possible and cry in her father's forelegs. The smell of fresh fruit and morning dew daisies drifted through the air and she opened her eyes to find the source, only to close them again a fraction of a second later. The princess was seated next to the bed, together with a food cart and a big pile of important-looking documents that were being scrutinized by the princess as though they had all been caught stealing from the cookie jar. Twilight did her best impression of a sleeping pony. If she was lucky, the princess would leave soon. She has more important things to take care of, for sure, Twilight thought bitterly. That was fine with her. She didn't want to talk to the princess anyway. Her heart ached but she pushed it away; if the princess didn't want her, then she didn't want the princess either. She forced herself to remain motionless, listening to the rustling of papers and the princess' occasional murmuring. Why wasn’t she leaving? “Twilight, we need to talk.” Twilight stiffened. How did she know? She knew the answer, of course; the princess knew everything. With a long suffering sigh she sat up, debating in her mind the merits of apologizing for everything ever versus throwing a tantrum and running out the door as soon as she could. Neither side gave any ground, and it was the princess who eventually settled the matter for her. “I wanted to apologize for the speech I gave you last night.” Twilight blinked. The princess wasn’t making any sense. Sure, she had said that she was a busy pony and didn’t have time for a little filly like Twilight, but she had been polite about it. What could she have to apologise for? It was Twilight’s fault for being too young. Maybe if she were older, she could take care of herself instead of taking up the princess’s valuable time. “Sorry I’m not good enough, Princess,” she replied, folding her ears back and looking at the sheets. “Twilight...” The princess sighed and lifted her head with a hoof, forcing Twilight to look at her. The princess looked tired. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had a smudge of… something on her left cheek that was just begging for Twilight to reach up and wipe it away. “Yesterday, I made the mistake of treating you like the ponies that come into court every day. Somepony to be made happy by giving them platitudes, and promises that action will be taken.” Twilight didn’t understand what ‘platitudes’ meant, but she didn’t want to interrupt the princess, so she simply nodded. The princess took away her hoof and smiled faintly. “I was thinking of you as a child that would be best served with empty promises, rather than the truth. But that is not what I should have done.” She sighed again and smoothed out a paper she had sat down on when she turned to face Twilight. “I should have treated you like my student.” “But you have been!” Twilight protested, stamping on the covers with a hoof. “I’m the one who left the room. I should have stayed there until you came back, but I was hungry... I’m sorry.” Shaking her head softly, the princess lit up her horn and pushed the food cart closer to the bed before lifting a strawberry from the plate it held and floating it over to Twilight. “Perhaps, but I was the one that should have made sure that you had everything you needed.” She looked at Twilight with that soul-penetrating gaze that made her shiver and said, “Twilight, I can’t promise you that I’ll always have time for you. But I will promise that I am going to make more time for you. I will teach you everything you need to know—” Twilight’s gaze drifted to the food cart for a split second before she refocused her attention on the princess. The strawberry had been nice, but it had only made her that much more aware of how hungry she was. The princess smiled. “—Starting with teaching you the way to the kitchens from your room, so that you can get a meal without getting lost.” Twilight ‘s eyes again flicked to the cart, then regretfully away. “Okay, but... can we eat after that?” The princess blinked, looked at the cart, then back at Twilight, before pressing a hoof to her face. “No, Twilight, I think you should eat first. The way to the kitchens can wait that long. Besides...” She glanced at the door. “If I took you to the kitchens, hungry as you are, I’m sure Mead would try to stage a political coup.” Twilight hadn’t even realised that she’d scooted forward so she could get at the cart. She also hadn’t remembered that she was a unicorn and could simply levitate the food over to herself. Now, with three strawberries and at least two slices of apple in her mouth, she looked up at the princess and asked, “Whagh a cou?” “A coup is when ponies try to overthrow their ruler because they don’t agree with the policies or rule of...” The princess trailed off, but Twilight didn’t really mind. The fruit was wonderfully sweet, but the Morning Dew Daisies were better than anything she’d ever had. Just the right mix of a soft spongy texture and a slightly tangy mellow taste. She ate, and ate, and ate more, until all that remained on the cart was a single raspberry sitting in the middle of the plate. She picked it up with her magic and offered it to the princess with a sheepish smile. The princess shook her head and motioned for Twilight to go ahead and eat that last morsel as well. “That’s okay, Twilight. I’ve already eaten.” Twilight continued watching her while she scarfed down the piece of fruit and then smiled. Celestia smiled back, albeit a little hesitantly. “I can’t promise that I won’t say or do anything that will hurt, Twilight. Believe it or not, there are things I have to learn as well. Will you forgive me if I make a mistake?” Though she had seen the princess look vulnerable before, Twilight’s understanding of such things was that ‘hugs solved everything’ and if hugs didn’t solve it, then you simply weren’t using enough of them. With that in mind, and the fact that she felt overjoyed that the princess hadn’t meant anything along the lines of what Twilight had thought she meant, she decided on a tried and true tactic that’d had a one-hundred percent success rate on Shiny. Rather than respond, she got up, walked to the other side of the bed and, with a running start, flung herself at the princess. It didn’t work out quite the way she had intended; her brother had always been bowled over through application of weight and force, him being only slightly bigger making that an easy equation to solve. The princess, however, was much bigger, and more solidly build, and Twilight found herself dangling from the princess’ neck like a shawl. She nevertheless hugged what she could get a hold of tightly, and smiled up at the princess’ head, even though she was fairly certain that the princess wouldn’t be able to see her from this angle. “Of course, Princess! And I promise that I’ll never, ever, think the worst of you again.” Nothing happened in the first few moments, but before Twilight could start wondering if the princess had even heard her, two forelegs grasped her and pressed her against the princess’ chest, to the point where breathing became difficult. “Thank you, Twilight.” She was lifted up to the face of the princess, whose eyes were watery, but whose smile was genuine. “Then let’s both promise do the best we can.” Twilight smiled and nodded. Her glomp-attack had been a success. “So right, then take the second left, then right the third right from the statue, followed by four lefts…” Twilight scrunched up her nose in bewildered annoyance. “Four lefts? Wouldn't that just make me go back to where I started?” They had been walking back and forth between her room and the Grand Dining Hall for over two hours, but she still couldn't picture the route in her head. Without the princess to keep her on the right path, she would have gotten lost a dozen times over, but even the princess seemed to lead them into a dead end every once in a while. “Yes, but you forget to take the stairs after the second left into account.” Unlike Twilight, who was becoming more exasperated by the second, the princess seemed to be walking on air; greeting everypony they came across with a smile, and not even getting annoyed when Twilight asked her which way to go for the fourth time that minute. Rook and Aegis' faces, meanwhile, were too impassive to get a read on, though she got the impression that they were laughing at her behind her back. Twilight frowned outright, looking up at her mentor. “Is that the second left after the right? Or the second left after the two windows?” More pieces were being added to the puzzlebox in her head and she was no longer sure which pieces fit her particular puzzle. “The second time you go left on your journey, Twilight,” the princess all but sang with a happy twinkle in her eyes, and Twilight almost believed that the princess was enjoying her misery. That's even more than less than unhelpful. She stopped walking, and the princess similarly came to a halt a few paces later. “I can't do this princess,” she said miserably. “I'll never be able to remember how to get to the dining hall, much less anywhere else.” The smile the princess had been wearing throughout faded just a smidge, making it look more compassionate than happy. “Don't worry, Twilight,” she said, “it might take us a few more weeks, but a filly as smart as you will have it figured out in no time at all. Still…” The princess inclined her head and closed her eyes for a brief moment. “We've been at this for almost two hours, so perhaps it's time for something else.” “How do you do that, Princess?” “Do what, Twilight?” “Tell the time.” Twilight spun around in place trying to see a timepiece anywhere near them. “There aren't even any clocks around!” The princess smiled. “I call on my connection to the sun to feel where it is in the sky, and from there I can usually tell how much time has passed.” She opened her eyes and winked at Twilight. “And that was something I never thought I would learn.” While she knew it was meant to comfort her, Twilight found it hard to believe that it had taken the princess years to learn... anything. An alicorn as smart as the princess was much more likely to have learned it in a couple days, maybe a week, and she was just saying that to make Twilight feel better. Still, if the princess said that she would learn in time, then perhaps it wasn't as hopeless as it seemed. “So what do we do now, Princess?” “First, I need to make a quick stop at the courtroom to see how everything is going with Sunny, and after that, I thought we could go out to the gardens for your next lesson,” the princess replied, motioning for Twilight to follow along with a wing before setting off again. They arrived at the courtroom in no time at all, and Twilight had the sinking feeling that the princess would quickly get herself caught up in ponytics again, forgetting all about her. Before she could dejectedly walk off to try and find her way back to her room, however, the princess looked back at her and said, “Come along, Twilight. This shouldn’t take long.” The courtroom was even more crowded than the day before, with many of the pegasi having taken to the air, which served as a second layer of ponies, all of whom were loudly voicing their opinions and questions. The going wasn't too difficult, however, as ponies cleared a path for them the moment they saw the princess, but neither was it entirely pleasant. “There she is! The filly that fell from the rafters!” “Are you sure it's her?!” “Is she okay?!” “Are you okay, little one?!” “Did you try to assassinate the princess?!” In an instant, the entire room went silent. All except for one scruffy-looking stallion who lifted his camera and took a picture before asking, “How do you feel about your failures thus far? Have you concocted any other plans to do away with our beloved ruler? Have you tried poison yet, or were you meant to make a statement?” Before Twilight could so much as utter a bewildered 'what?' The stallion produced a photograph from his saddlebags and held it up for everypony to see. “I have a photograph here that shows this filly after a failed attempt on the princess' life. She tried to pin our fair ruler to her chair using naught but a breakfast knife!” Twilight didn't understand half of what the stallion was saying; she had never harmed the princess! Well, she had, but that had been an accident! “I would never do that!” she yelled, but she was drowned out by the buzz that went up all over the courtroom. Most of the ponies present immediately disregarded the idea as preposterous; some wanted to take a closer look at the photograph to see if there was any truth to the accusations, and a third group all tried to get at Twilight with violence in their eyes for her supposed part in trying to do harm to the princess. They didn't get very far. Within moments, Twilight's view of the ponies looking at her was obscured by a white wing and the princess' voice echoed through the halls. “Guards, seize this stallion and throw him in the dungeons for slander, gross negligence, and trespassing! As for the rest of you, anypony that lays a hoof on this filly will have to answer to me. These accusations are ludicrous and should be disregarded as such.” “Princess? What's happening?” Twilight asked trying to peek out from behind the wing. She didn't get very far either, as Celestia's wing curled around her and lifted her onto the princess' back where the second wing joined the first to keep her trapped and unable to glimpse much more than a small window near the ceiling. The position of her wings couldn't have been very comfortable for the princess, but rather than say anything about it, as Twilight herself would have done, she simply continued addressing the room. “Any questions or comments can be directed at my personally appointed regent!” she said, her voice full of authority. “In my absence, she holds the highest authority and has my full support.” A guard began shouting as well, muffled by the feathers Twilight was trapped under, but still audible. She thought she recognised Aegis' voice, but she couldn't be sure. “Everypony go about your business! Anypony found trying to do harm to another, or the filly will be imprisoned for a fortnight for disruption of the peace and further charges will be brought depending on your involvement!” Twilight's feathery prison began to move, though it may as well have been cast iron for all the success she had at getting out of it, and before long the tumultuous sounds of the courtroom died down. Their trip took quite a while, and by the time the princess opened her wings to let Twilight out, the sight that greeted her was no longer that of the courtroom. Instead, they were at what Twilight recognised as the side entrance to the castle, through which she and her parents had arrived. When compared to the grandiose scale of the castle, the entrance was barely big enough to be qualified as such. It was wide enough to admit two ponies walking side by side, and small to medium-sized carts. The last time she had been here, she had been so excited about her pending meeting with the princess that she scarcely remembered any of the surroundings, though she was quite sure there hadn't been this much activity. There was a long line of carts which were being subjected to swift examination by the guards before being waved through to a doorway, behind which a gently slope lead downward into the bowels of the castle. At any other time, Twilight would have been wondering where all the carts were coming from, and perhaps where they were going. In her current state, however, all she could think to ask was: “What happened, princess? Did I do something wrong again?” "No, Twilight. You didn't do anything wrong,” the princess replied, pairing her words with a gentle smile. “And you have nothing to worry about, I won't let anything happen to you.” The princess then turned to her guards and said, “Aegis, I want you to keep an eye on him. I will want to talk to him personally, but for now…” She nodded towards Twilight with her head, leaving Twilight to wonder what the princess meant, but Aegis seemed to understand what she meant. “Right away, Your Majesty.” After Aegis had cantered off, the princess turned to Rook. “I want you in the courtroom. Sunny is going to be having a hard time getting the situation back under control, and I want you to be there to help should the need arise.” When Rook did not answer right away, the princess let out a sigh and said, “Yes, I can take care of myself for an hour, and no, I shouldn't. If I stepped in every time something happened, ponies would never learn to trust in Sunny's judgement.” Rook smirked. “I didn't say a thing, Princess.” The princess huffed irritably. “You were thinking it.” The guard bowed lightly and took off in the opposite direction his partner had gone in while the princess turned to Twilight and smiled. "Well then, Twilight, shall we get started on your lesson?" The fire of enthusiasm was lit in Twilight’s mind and drowned out all other questions she might have had. She sprinted over to the entrance, wondering what she was going to learn about next, before she remembered that the princess had said the lesson would take place outside. That proved to be an obstacle, as any and all of the carts coming through the gate, as well as the ponies that pulled them, were soaked to the bone. It was raining, and not in the light gentle way that her mother had always told her was good for the garden. Sight beyond the entrance had been reduced to a few dozen yards, while the rest of the world faded behind a rainstorm so heavy that it looked like a thick gray curtain. “Uhm, Princess, it’s raining... Does that mean that we can’t…?” She trailed off, feeling her heart sink down into her legs. To her surprise, the princess merely smiled and stepped out of the deluge. Even more surprising was that not a single drop managed to reach her. They all tried of course, flinging themselves at her with all the energy their descent from the sky had given them, but they each met their demise against an invisible, impenetrable shield. “On the contrary, Twilight,” the princess said. “I think it will be very useful for our next lesson.” They moved to a gazebo near the side of the mountain. The massive stone wall didn’t do much against the weather, because of the angle, but it gave Twilight another thing to gawk over. She had never really thought about how big the mountain that Canterlot had been built upon really was, and only remembered to stay close to the princess once the protective shield no longer covered her. In an instant, she too was soaked and scrambling to find shelter. She shivered and shook herself to get rid of the water that hung to her coat. At some point, she was going to have to learn how the princess’ drying spell worked, but for now... Twilight turned around and watched the princess, wondering what her mentor was doing. She found out that the reason for her sudden shower wasn’t that she hadn’t remained close enough: The princess had stopped casting whatever shield she had conjured, and had sat down on the wet grass, eyes closed and head tilted skyward. It made Twilight wonder if it was part of the lesson, and if she was supposed to be doing something similar. She stuck a hoof out from under the protection of the gazebo and swiftly decided that she would rather not go back out there without protection from the weather. So she settled for calling out. “Princess?” Either her voice was being drowned out by the rain, or the princess simply wasn't listening. Twilight sat down on her rump and pouted. Waiting was her only other option, unless she wanted to brave the curtain of rain once again. Luckily, whatever the princess was doing didn't last too long, and after a few minutes of intense pouting and trying to make her mentor move by sheer willpower, Twilight succeeded. Or the princess simply decided that enough was enough. Either way, she got up and made her way over to the gazebo as well, all smiles despite Twilight's own frown. “Wonderful, isn't it, Twilight?” the princess asked, before shaking herself in a manner not dissimilar from Twilight's own. It gave Twilight a taste of what she inflicted on others, and rendered the roof useless. “No matter how many times the pegasi create storms like this, it never ceases to amaze me,” the princess continued, turning around and looking out over the little patch of garden that remained visible. Twilight was much more interested in the princess herself. The alicorn looked a little silly with all of her coat sticking out on all sides, but it was her mane especially that Twilight was awestruck by. Even without any conscious effort from the princess, it quickly seemed to dry itself off and resumed its flowing motion before the princess had even finished her sentence. It took a moment longer for Twilight's brain to process the sentence, but once she had, she stuck out her tongue. “Bleh. Rain's icky. Why does it need to rain this hard, anyway?” The princess let out an amused snort. “I'm afraid that it's our fault.” That got Twilight's attention. “Really?” she asked, her ears perking up and swiveling towards the princess. “But I didn't—” “Not intentionally, but..." The princess let her sentence peter out and shook her head. “I suppose it doesn't matter. Have you ever seen your parents create a shield against the rain, Twilight?” A minute of silence passed between the two of them before Twilight shook her head. “I don't think so, Princess.” She looked around furtively in the foalish fear that her parents would know if she said anything bad about them, before scooting a little closer to the princess and leaning in to whisper: “They're not very good at magic.” The princess hummed thoughtfully. “Alright then. Let’s start with the basics. A shield, is essentially nothing more than—” “—charged magic particles that are aligned in the same direction, generally placed facing away from the caster. It is a spell easy enough that it can be mastered by every unicorn, and can, with practice, deflect substantial amounts of harm away from whatever you are trying to protect,” Twilight continued dutifully. The princess had stopped talking about halfway through and was peering at Twilight inquisitively. “Keep in mind that, while effective, a shield created this way will drain magic roughly equal to the force exerted upon it, and is therefore primarily used as a stopgap spell, rather than a long term solution.” “Very good, my student. Where did you learn all of that?” Twilight smiled. “There was a chapter on shields in ‘Magical Misfires and Mayhaps’,” she proclaimed proudly. “Well remembered,” the princess said with a bemused smile. “And can you tell me what the most important reason for the spell's existence is?” Twilight searched her memory for the relevant information but came up empty, and silently cursed herself for forgetting the pertinent answer. She was going to have to read the book again, but the princess was waiting for an answer now. “Speed?” she tried hopefully. Her heart sank again when the princess shook her head. “Speed is, of course, important, but the most important thing about it is that it is easy to remember and cast, and doesn't require any specific runes…” The princess let her sentence peter out and held up a hoof before Twilight could ask what kind of runes there were. “We'll talk about runes later. Why do you think that it's important for the spell to be easy?” The lesson, Twilight realised, was quickly turning into an impromptu quiz on her magical knowledge, and she was determined not to make any more mistakes. Maybe even impress the princess if things went well. “Because... that means that everypony can use it if they get into trouble?” The princess nodded, lighting up her horn and creating a small, visible force field between them. It was deep yellow, almost golden in color, and Twilight couldn't help but admire how it looked. It was a much nicer color than her own dull pinkish-purple glow. “Precisely. Many unicorns that work in dangerous jobs—” “Like police ponies?” For a moment, she swore she could see an annoyed expression cross the princess' face, but it came and went so swiftly that she couldn’t be sure. “Yes, Twilight, like police ponies for example.” The princess poked the shield, making it pulse gently. “Police ponies have dangerous jobs, and they train their familiarity with the spell to such a degree that they can cast it reflexively.” Twilight nodded. “It’s called reflexive- or ingrained conditioning.” She smiled when the princess looked at her, but became more and more uncomfortable under the princess’ perplexed stare. Minutes passed in silence, until she finally couldn’t take it any longer. “Did I say it wrong? Wasn’t I supposed to—” The princess blinked, shook her head, and smiled. “No, Twilight. You are absolutely correct. I just...” she let out a short laugh. “You keep surprising me. Even though you’re young, you seem to know more than many adults do.” “I really like to read,” Twilight piped up, pleased that the Princess seemed to be praising her after all. The princess laughed. “Yes. That is something of which I am well aware.” She flexed her wings and folded them to her sides, taking a moment to compose herself before speaking again. “Let’s continue with your lesson shall we? Why don’t you try creating a shield like the one I made here?” Twilight nodded and lit up her horn. She almost subconsciously closed her eyes to better focus on the magic flowing through her body, but a short cough from the princess kept them open, and painted her cheeks scarlet. Unlike her earlier lessons, she managed to cast the shield spell without any catastrophic failures, and although her shield flickered, she was proud of herself for getting it right on her first try. “Hmmm...” The princess stepped forward and tapped a hoof against the shield which made Twilight clutch her head. It was as if the princess had tapped against her horn directly, and it made her head ache. “Very good, Twilight, but once the shield is in place, you should stop actively casting the spell.” “But wouldn’t the shield disappear as well?” With a sigh the princess placed a hoof on her nuzzle and shook her head softly. “Forgive me, Twilight. I’d forgotten that I haven’t told you about cantrips yet. We’ll have to come back to this later.” “B-but... but...” Twilight’s ears drooped. She had failed again. The princess frowned sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Twilight.” No. No. NO! Twilight shook her head furiously. She was good at magic. Any student of the princess had to be, otherwise they were just a failure. She didn’t want to be a failure. She set her jaw and lit up her horn once more. She had seen her brother create his trademark shields a few times, and if she put enough power behind it, she was sure that she could replicate it. After only a few seconds of intense focus, the world went dark, and the sound of the rain came to an abrupt halt. Twilight blinked, she hadn’t closed her eyes had she? “Hello?” she called out into the darkness. “Princess?” No reply. Twilight bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly. The fears that always lurked on the edge of her mind used the darkness and the silence as a way to get to her. You messed up again. You teleported without meaning to and now you’re trapped in a limbo dimension, a voice in her head told her. “No...” It came from her lips like a whisper and faded into the darkness without leaving an echo. Or maybe, you just destroyed the entire world, another voice began, but was silenced when Twilight shook her head again. “No!” Before getting her cutie mark, she might have believed her own exclamation, but given the damage that event had caused... She was no longer sure that she couldn’t have. After her outburst, the voices thankfully kept silent. Unfortunately, it didn’t help her at all. Minutes passed unseen, but before long, Twilight found that she was short of breath. No, it was more like breathing was becoming more difficult. Everything told her that she was running out of time. Her breaths came in short wheezes, her heart near hammered right out of chest, her stomach contorted in ways it wasn’t supposed to, and her hooves felt like lead. “Princess?” she managed, beseeching the darkness piteously, while gasping for breath. “Please, if you can hear me… please… please save me.” A sound like a nail being dragged over a blackboard pierced the silence, making Twilight clamp her ears to her skull. It was louder than anything she had ever heard before, a pinprick of light appeared in the darkness, a little ways above her. It did not remain a pinprick for long, and the sound persisted, even getting louder as the light, which she now recognised as a glowing horn, tore a hole in the void. Air rushed back in and Twilight gratefully took great big gulps of it. What was left of the void shattered into a million tiny pieces which then evaporated in the air, and suddenly Twilight could see again. After the silence, the sound of the rain felt like a drum was being played inside of her head and even the soft light of a cloudy afternoon hurt her eyes, but anything was better than being stuck in nowhere. “Twilight..?” The contours of the princess’ worried face resolved themselves in her field of view and she did the only thing that she could. She ran forward and buried her face in the princess’ neck, sobbing uncontrollably. A pair of hooves drew her close and were soon followed by a warm wing, which only made Twilight more aware of how cold she was. “There, there, Twilight. You’re okay. Everything is going to be okay.” Twilight clung to the princess’ voice and let her tears flow, giving voice to all of the mounting fears that had plagued her. The princess simply held her through it all. It wasn’t until all of her tears had spilled, half an hour later that Twilight realised that the princess was lying down on her side, and that her mentor’s breathing was as laboured as her own. “Princess?” she asked in a small voice. “What’s happened?” “Don’t worry, Twilight,” the princess replied with gentle smile that Twilight couldn’t believe came from a pony who seemed to be in great amounts of pain. “It’s just...” The princess took a deep breath and coughed up a few specks of blood onto the gazebo floor, much to Twilight’s horror. “Just the backlash from dispelling your shield.” Her smile grew a little wider and she gave Twilight a soft nuzzle. “Very impressive strength-wise, though I believe we should teach you to be a little more selective about what you block with it.” When Twilight didn’t smile, the princess hugged her a little tighter and said; “Don’t worry about me, Twilight. I’ll be fine.” “But I did th—” “No, Twilight. I chose to do this.” Seemingly drained, the princess dropped her head back onto the stone floor and sighed. “I’ll be fine, I just need some time to recover.” Twilight couldn’t bear to see the princess like she was in that moment, so she pressed her face back into the princess’ fur. Her “Do you promise?” was mumbled through that coat and therefore barely audible. The princess giggled and then winced before saying; “Yes, Twilight. I promise. Just let me rest for a few more minutes and we’ll go get something to eat. Okay?” Face still pressed into her mentor’s coat, all Twilight did was nod her head.