Fears.
Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no, was all Spring Mist’s mind could muster.
Once again, Mist had a torrent of feelings rushing through him. Fear of rejection. Fear of the Princesses. Of failure. Elation. Seeing the Princesses, a chance at this dream position, one step closer to where he wanted to be. He paced back and forth in front of the small door leading into a meeting room. The room where he would stand before the Princesses and be evaluated and judged. He would look upon the face of Princesses Celestia and Luna as they asked questions, dug into his past, into his mind. The looks on their faces when he was to be told their verdict.
When they reject me. Again.
No! You can’t believe that will happen.
But it will. It happened before. I wasn’t good enough.
No, but you still reached a part of your goal. And it will be different this time.
Fine. But even so, something will prevent it from happening. Something always does.
You’ll be fine! Do you even remember what actually happened? Let me remind you. Of both times.
******
A young honeydew unicorn trotted through the streets of Everfree. Small pockets of ponies gathered together. Some Mist recognized. Others he didn’t. Mist was done with school, but still wanted to study. He was amazed to discover that Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns temporarily moved down from Canterlot, and accepted older students. Mist leapt at the opportunity to apply. To prove his ability. And join the ranks of the magical elite.
With high hopes and big dreams, Mist picked up his pace to a near gallop, headed straight for the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. Upon arriving, Mist saw a few ponies, mostly fillies and colts with their parents, going in and out of the castle and its gardens. Some of the young ponies looked ecstatic, leaping around, running in circles, squealing in delight. Mist guessed that those were the ponies who were accepted into the school. Other fillies and colts, far more numerous, looked glum and dejected, slowly moving around, being reassured by their parents. Mist’s ears fell, a feeling of dread filling him.
He shook his head and proceeded up to the entrance hall of the castle. There he saw two lines of ponies: a line of fillies and colts with their parents, and a line with ponies of various ages, some young, about Mist’s age, others older, a few years older. Mist joined the line and waited for his turn.
The wait took an hour or so, and by then, Mist had mentally prepared himself for his testing. He was ushered into a room that looked like it might be a classroom or lecture hall on a regular day. Today, however, it was mostly empty, save a panel of four stern-looking ponies sitting with their quills and parchment ready, all right in front of none other than Princess Celestia herself. All of Mist’s mental preparations began to derail, but he stood determined to succeed, especially in front of a Princess.
A brown earth pony entered through a door on the opposite side of the room, wheeling in a desk holding a large brown bowl. Within the bowl was soil, an acorn just poking out from it. On the sided of the bowl were markings that detailed the goal of the test.
One of the judges spoke up. “Master Mist. Your task stands before you. Begin.”
Spring Mist walked towards the desk and studied the bowl. He understood almost immediately the task at hand: grow the acorn to full maturity, in miniature. If the bowl broke, failure. The tree was not fully grown, failure. Anything other than perfect, failure. Two spells, opposing in several ways. Mist cringed a bit internally; growing magic was not really his forte, but he could still do some. And he could do miniaturization spells only to a point. Why couldn’t the test be shield spells, shade spells, or even fine telekinesis? I can do those without a problem, he thought to himself.
Mist stepped around the desk and began to concentrate. His horn glowed with a green light. That same light wrapped itself around the acorn, first pushing it fully beneath the earth. Then, Mist braced himself and poured more into his magic. The bowl began shaking, and soon after, a sampling emerged from the soil. Mist caught one of the judges scribbling something, and his magic faltered slightly. The judges noticed and began to write on their parchments.
Mist felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he shut them tightly to stem the tide, and pushed even more into the spells he was trying to cast. One worked, the other didn’t. A tree rapidly began sprouting, growing far too fast for the miniaturization spell to hold back effectively. The result when Mist’s magic was spent was a gnarled, warped idea of a tree, both severely stunted, and accelerated in growth, barely standing higher than an average pony. Portions of the plant were at mostly full size while others were comically shrunken, leaves irregular in size and shape, limbs bent in unhealthy-looking ways. The attempts of the spells to combat each other had created a twisted reflection of nature. Far from perfect. Mist knew he had failed.
Mist turned to leave, uttering apologies to the scowling judges, feeling the utter shame and crushing pain of failure. As he reached the door, he was halted by the large form of the Princess, a comforting expression on her alabaster face.
“You show potential, my little pony. Return another time, tomorrow even. Try again.”
Uncertain, but unable to argue, Mist simply bowed and said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Princess Celestia moved aside and allowed Mist to walk out of the room.
******
Okay, fine. I remember. I remember that pain. That crushing weight.
Yes, but you also remember the Princess, the hope. You returned that next day. And you were far more successful.
******
Mist once again stood in the examination room. It looked no worse for wear, and the judges were different this time. Princess Celestia still sat serenely behind the ponies. She flashed a small smile when Mist walked into the room, a tiny gesture that filled Mist with confidence. He was not going to fail again.
The same earth pony wheeled in a desk, this time bearing a small pile of puzzle-like pieces and a few alchemical ingredients. There were familiar ideograms on a parchment that detailed the test. Mix the ingredients, contain them in a box constructed from the pieces provided, and protect the room from the resulting flash fire. In that order. There was a time limit after mixing the ingredients, too. About thirty seconds. Mist looked towards the panel and at Princess Celestia with a horrified look on his face. Flash fire? As an alchemical mixture? That’s possible? Even if, are they insane? They could be blinded at best, killed at worst, if I fail. He thought to himself. All chose to ignore the look and proceeded with the test. “Begin.”
Mist scanned the recipe and found it easy enough: mix the ingredients together in vessel and run. Oh, funny. He grabbed the ingredients and mixed them together in a ball of telekinesis. He then moved onto the bow, and tried to assemble the pieces correctly. He hated puzzles, but as far as this one went, it was fairly simple. He shoved the mixture, already beginning to bubble in his magical grasp, into the box. He dare not cast a glance at the judges or the Princess, needing to concentrate solely on danger at hand. He then cast the first spell he considered: a shield spell. Protect the room. With a stable shield in place, Mist frantically cast another spell: a shadow spell. The orb of magic that was the only protection against the coming reaction filled with a black haze, obscuring the box contained within. Mist flipped over the table and held the shielded box behind it, away from the judges, Princess Celestia, and himself. Then he waited. Waited for the ‘flash’, then the ‘fire’. Waited for the shield to collapse and kill them all. Sweat beaded his brow as the seconds ticked away.
Nothing happened. The deadline came and went. But Spring Mist dared not lower the shield or remove the shadow. Just in case. But Princess Celestia stood over him and grasped the box in her own magic and removed it from the shield and shadow spells. Mist was shocked, a thousand thoughts running through him, but Princess Celestia merely smiled softly and said, “I told you so.”
One of the judges arose from his seat and simply said, “Well done. You passed. Welcome to Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”
Mist felt himself brimming with excitement, rising from the ground, only to fall again to his knees. How did you know? “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“For what? You passed, only of your own ability. And the rest is up to you, too,” She turned and walked from the room, leaving a very confused Spring Mist to his own thoughts.
******
See? There you succeeded.
Yes, but only because of the Princess. She set up the test to fit my skills.
Do you know that for a fact? And how would she have known? Why would she do it? She neither took you on as a student nor helped you through the School, financially or otherwise.
What could she have done? Paid for my schooling? Who am I? Nopony. I attended the School for as long as I could, then I had to change my plan.
And she didn’t help you after all that business, did she?
I–
The door opened and a guard interrupted Mist’s internal argument. “Enter.”
Mist stopped pacing and took in a deep breath. He slowly walked through the door and into the meeting room.
There was a small table with a small cushion on the floor next to it, right in the middle of the room. On the far end of the room sat Mist’s interviewers. There, behind a table of their own, sat Princesses Celestia and Luna.
Mist was taken aback by just his proximity to two such radiant ponies. But he continued on until the door closed behind him. Immediately, he fell to his knees, prostrating himself before the royal pony sisters.
“Thank you,” said Princess Celestia. “Sit, please.”
Mist silently moved to the cushion and sat himself down. He then waited as the guard walked over to the princesses, carrying the file the medical pony had compiled.
“Thank you,” Princess Celestia said to the guard, who nodded and trotted back to his spot at the door. “Now. Thine name is Spring Mist, correct?” she asked.
“Um, yes, Your Majesty.” Mist responded, struggling to keep down his nerves. She wouldn’t remember me, of course.
“And thou wish to enlist in the Royal Protective Forces.”
“Yes. Your Majesty.”
“And thou hast been part of the local peacekeeping in Everfree for how long a period of time?”
“Four years and a few months. About eight, I think.”
“Hmm, and before that? What didst thou do?”
“Before, I was in school, studying. I took the entrance exam for You Majesty’s School for Gifted Unicorns, passed the second time. But I never could attend for more than a year because of a lack of funds. After that I pursued private study while training to be a guard. After training was complete, I joined the night watch,” Mist caught a slight shift in Princess Luna’s face, at least a shift from what seemed as default sadness, but couldn’t quite guess what she was thinking. She had been silent and still throughout the interview thus far, but she quietly asked one question:
“Now that thou wish to enlist, granted you are accepted by Captain Black Stone, which of the divisions dost thou wish to join?” she inquired, perhaps a bit meekly.
A little startled, Mist answered, “I would like to join the Night Guards. Of course, only if it pleases you, Princess. Were I accepted, I would gladly join any position I was asked to.”
“Thank you, Ser Mist,” Princess Celestia interjected. Mist hated that. Being called ‘ser’. He didn’t feel worthy of the title. But for some reason or another, the Princess had called him that. Does she recognize me?
“But why didst thou become a guard, given thine scholastic history?”
“It was never in my plan. My initial goal was to join the royal archives or the advisory in order to serve Your Majesties more directly, but given a lack of ability to pay for schooling, and my lower social standing, my odds of that dream were, well… unattainable. I still wished to serve, so I figured the best course of action to be to join the guard. Serve the kingdom in a different way.”
“Hast thou kept up with thine studies?” asked Princess Celestia.
Mist was beginning to get confused. Why does this matter? “Yes. But only privately, in my own time.”
“Interesting. Dost thou feel that thou would make a valuable addition to the Royal Guard?”
“Yes, Princess, I do. At least, I know I’ll try my best to serve.”
“We are certain thou shall. Thank yo--”
“What was thine area of study?” Princess Luna interrupted. Princess Celestia briefly raised an eyebrow, but remained quiet.
Mist was now definitely confused, unsure of what to do, but decided it was best to answer. “Oh, uh… the, um, the stars and celestial events, mostly. I dabbled in magic theory and specialized in a few spells, but I enjoyed astronomy more. Um, Your Majesty.”
Princess Luna flashed a minute smile, but her face returned to her usual sad face when Princess Celestia spoke up. “Thank you, Spring Mist,” She offered with a smile, “Thou mayest proceed through the door to the next room.”
“Thank you, Your Majesties,” Mist offered with a bow.
He turned to leave, when he was stopped by the night princess speaking up yet again. “One last question. What dost thine cutie mark mean?”
That was a highly unusual question, and a topic that Mist rarely discussed, but Mist still obliged the Princess’s question, “That’s a funny story, Princess,” He began, “I have no idea.”
No idea at all.