“Inova, Skyla, I am going to teach you both about a spell that will let us speak to each other with our thoughts” mom said. “It’s called Telepathy, and no matter where in the world we are, it will let us communicate with each other instantly.
I was interested, though not enthusiastic. My magic has been getting better and I’ve been getting better at it. I’ve recently gotten a good grasp on telekinesis, though I still have problems with it, namely remembering that I can do it. Also, her description of the telepathy spell sounded distantly familiar to something, like various other things I’d learned about.
“Unfortunately, I have some personal errands to run, so I’ll have to teach you about it later today, alright?” Mom followed up with.
“Aww” Skyla said. I gave a more noncommittal shrug as mom left.
I decided to go back to my schoolwork. We started studying the minotaurs recently, and they fascinated me. What really held my attention was their hands. Sometimes, when I gazed upon one of my forehooves, I could sort of feel something there that wasn’t, a ghost of a feeling. The minotaur hands, while not exactly like what I felt, were the closest match.
My fascinating study session, which Skyla was prompted to join, was eventually interrupted. "Girls, you're about to hear your mom's voice in your head" dad said. "That will be her talking to you."
"But mom's not home" Skyla pointed out. "How will she be talking with us?"
"It's the telepathy spell. She'll be in your head in a few seconds."
A few seconds later, mom's voice appeared in our heads. "Inova, Skyla, are you there?"
Skyla started freaking out a little. "Mom? Where are you?" She started frantically looking around the house for her.
"I'm at the market. Is there anything you'd like?"
"Wait, you're talking to us from the market?"
"Yes. I'm looking at some of the bakers' stalls right now."
"Ooh. Ah, I get it now. Could I get some frosted sugar cookies with pink glittery sprinkles on them?"
"Sure. Inova, is there anything you'd like?"
The question barely registered in my head. The whole concept and use of this spell seemed very familiar to me, like I'd seen or used it before. But I knew that I'd never experienced this before either, so what was it?
"Inova, are you there?" Mom asked.
Finally, I couldn't hold it in. "Where have I heard of this before!?" I nearly shouted.
"Are you okay, Inova?" Mom asked. Dad and Skyla were looking at me with concern and curiosity, I believe.
"I don't know. It's just. . . This. . . It seems way too familiar. I'm heading to my room." I imagined, for some reason, hitting a flat red crescent shape with my hoof, which cut the telepathy spell off. That scared me even more and I ran to my room, where I immediately hid under the covers of the bed.
Hiding there offered some degree of comfort, but it didn't do much. How do you hide from what scares you when it's your own mind?
Today is a unique day. It’s a Saturday, and I get to sit with mom in court today. Skyla got to sit in court with her last Saturday and apparently fell asleep during the third petitioner. I’m kind of amazed she even lasted that long.
Mom is sitting in her crystalline throne and I’m sitting in a smaller gold one. It’s a smidge big for me, but it was apparently made so that Skyla or I could comfortably sit in it. Since she’s a little bit bigger than me, it was built more around her size.
One of Mom’s assistants, a beige pegasus mare, made an announcement. “The Crystal Court is now in session. Today, we have five petitioners.”
“Who’s first?” I asked before mom could say anything.
“A unicorn named Wealth Spread. Shall I call him in?”
“In a moment, Manila” mom said before I could say anything. She turned to me and leaned in close. “Inova, you really should watch me first. I know how to handle petitioners, and observation is a good way to learn.”
“I’ve heard you and dad talk about court before” I countered. “I’ve heard enough to figure things out. Petitioner comes in, states their case. Princess considers, gives verdict. I think I can handle it. Besides, he sounds easy enough.”
“You think you can handle it?”
“Yes.” I turned back to the assistant. “Manila, please bring Wealth Spread in. I will handle this one myself.”
Manila’s eyebrows raised a bit before she put her professional face back on and made the official summons. “Presenting Wealth Spread, from Canterlot.”
A red unicorn stallion walked in. He seemed confident in his movement and posture.
“Hello, your highnesses” Wealth Spread said. “It’s an honor to be petitioning before both of you on this lovely day here in the great Crystal Empire.” I swear I could almost feel the butter he was using in his voice.
“You will only be petitioning to one of us, Mr. Spread” mom said. “And it’s not me.”
“Then does that mean I’ll be the first to petition before Princess Inova herself?”
“Yes” I said. “Please state your case.” Truth be told, I already had a feeling on what he might say. I’ve never told anypony this, but pony names seem to be fairly indicative of what that pony is like fairly often.
“It would be an honor. I simply want the rich nobles to pay more in taxes, and for that money to be given to those who don’t have as much. The nobles hold too much power, and exert it in numerous ways to keep those with less money in poverty. They have enough bits to survive while those with less can start living better lives.”
“Let me stop you right there. I have a few questions for you regarding this idea of yours.”
“Go ahead, Princess Inova.” I felt his air of confidence change a bit.
“Under this system of yours, everypony would make and have the same amount of wealth as everypony else, right?”
“Of course. Every family will have a good house, good food, good friends, and enough money.”
“So tell me this: what would motivate anypony to do anything if their wealth remains the same?”
“The goodness of their hearts, of course. Construction companies have access to the resources to building materials, so they should build houses for those that need them.”
“But if everyone’s wealth is the same, then wouldn’t everyone have the same access to the same resources?” Wealth Spread was caught off guard by that question. I continued on. “When the free money stops coming in, what will the formerly poor ponies do?
“Do you have a job, Wealth Spread?”
He was slow to snap out of his stupor. “No, I don’t. But to be honest, neither do you, yet.”
“Your second point is pointless. I’m at work right now. You, on the other hoof, have the time to find a job.”
“I will not work for some rich pony to further their agenda.” He was starting to sound upset.
“What is this agenda?”
“To keep money out of the hooves of those who need it by keeping it to themselves.”
“Their servants need it. Their chefs need it. Their landscapers need it. Those who sell them the goods they have need it. And if those rich ponies want to keep on having their place cleaned, fancy cuisine, manicured gardens, and high end collections, they have to pay somepony for it somehow. It’s a system that’s worked well so far.
“I have heard enough to be able to tell you that your system wouldn’t even last a decade or two. Please leave the court.”
“You’re just going to kick me out of the castle like that?” He was starting to sound a bit mean.
“Not the castle. Just this room. You can still visit the rest of the castle grounds, just like anypony else. I will ask again: please leave the court.”
Wealth Spread left in a huff. The courtroom was silent as I felt all eyes on me. Finally, I broke the tension. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Well, no, but don’t you think you were a bit. . . blunt?” mom asked. “I’d have refused his petition too, but I would have turned him away more gently.”
“I’ve seen aunt Celestia be gentle like that. I’ve also seen the same pony petitioning the same thing to her before numerous times, to the same gentle letdown. Besides, I also saved us some time. How long do most petitions last?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“I was done in under ten. Who’s next, Manila?”
“A unicorn called Macaroni Wheat. Strange name. Shall I send him in?”
I had no idea what to think of his name. I felt a little bit of hunger though for some reason. “Go ahead.”
Manila introduced Macaroni Wheat in a professional manner. The stallion was neatly dressed and neatly groomed, though he seemed a little uncomfortable, like it wasn’t normal for him.
“What brings you here today, Mr. Wheat?” I asked.
“Your highnesses, I have created a new food and I would like you to try it.” Pulled in by his magic was a serving cart. On top of it was a domed platter. “I call it pasta.” He lifted the dome off and underneath it was a plate full of light yellow stringy stuff.
Normally, when I looked at food, I thought of it as another thing in the world. But for some reason, I was drawn to this. I found myself leaving my throne and walking up to the plate. There was a fork in the pasta already.
“May I?” I asked the stallion.
“Go ahead” he said.
I focused a bit to get my telekinesis going, grabbed the fork with it, twirled it in the pasta, picked up a decent mass of it, and took a bite.
Silence filled the room as I chewed the soft, buttery pasta. All awaited my reaction.
After much chewing and thought, followed by swallowing it, I came to a conclusion. “I have reached a conclusion” I dramatically announced as I stuck the fork back in the pasta.
“And what’s that, Princess?” Macaroni asked.
“I want more of this stuff. Seriously, it’s amazing.” I took another big bite. “Mr. Wheat, do you have more?”
“No, but I can make more.” He was starting to smile with a bit of pride.
“Mom, I’m afraid I must leave the rest of court in your capable, experienced hooves. Macaroni, we shall go to the royal kitchen! I have so many ideas for your pasta.”
I spent the next few hours in the kitchen with the stallion. We came up with many shapes of pasta, ranging from thick to thin, long to short, and even bows. One thing I liked about pasta was that, when dry, it could stay in the pantry for some time and be just fine.
Once we were done, we had come up with over fifteen pasta styles made, though no names for them. I did come up with ‘spaghetti’ for the one he brought in, and he had made a small one that looked like a curved tube as well that he named after himself (it was his cutie mark as well). We chose to call the stuff Macaroni Products, approved and endorsed by Princess Inova. I had a good feeling about it.
“Girls, I have news” mom said at the dinner table. Dad seemed to be in on it and something didn’t feel right to me. “You two are going to have another sister.”
“Really?” Skyla asked. She seemed enthused about the news.
“Really?” I asked. I wasn’t enthused about the news.
“Really” dad said.
“Are you adopting?” I asked, hoping that was the case.
“Nope” mom said. “She will be born the same way you two were.”
I stopped paying attention to the world around me as plans started formulating in my head. Faint memories of when I wouldn’t stop crying and memories of stories of how I wouldn’t stop until I wore myself out (until dad accidentally figured out that my crying fueled itself) came to mind. I also remembered that there were some fillies at school older than me who had their own foals already, and when those foals started crying, even when I folded my ears down and covered them with my forehooves, I still got intense headaches from the sound.
With the experiences at school in mind, I began imagining what it would be like with a foal in the home with us. She’d probably stay in the same end of the house as the rest of us. When she would cry at three in the morning, mom and dad would respond to it, Skyla would sleep through it, and I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. Even if I were to move to the guest room at the opposite side of the house, I’d probably still wake up when she cried. I’d wind up losing lots of sleep, which is important for my grades. My A’s would go down, and my flight and magic grades, which have been improving, would crash and burn respectively. I’d also become more irritable and probably develop a short temper because of it. I did not see that ending well, and I’d probably make regretful choices along the way. Diamond Heart would stick through it with me, but I didn’t want her to have to endure a me like that.
Thinking of Diamond brought a new idea to mind: I could leave and stay with her for a while. I’ve got plenty of bits from my lunches secretly saved back, so if I have to pay some kind of rent, I could. I liked the idea of moving out before the filly shows up.
While the idea of moving out sounded good, I didn’t like the idea of just picking all my stuff up and walking out. That would be too painful for my family. Sure, the best way to remove a bandage was to just rip it off, but this wasn’t like that. This was more like applying a bandage. It had to be done slowly and carefully to make sure the healing could actually happen.
Yes, I’d make my way out of here gradually. I’d snag some stuff from my room, walk to Diamond’s home with her, set the stuff up, come home, and go about as normal. As time goes on, I’d decrease my presence a bit at a time, and I’d cede more control of my room to Skyla. But first, I’d have to actually see if I could stay with them. I’m sure the answer will be Yes, but it’s best to make sure beforehoof. And if that didn’t work, I always could-
“Inova, are you okay?” mom asked, startling me out of my thoughts.
“Hm-what? Oh, yeah. I was just thinking about something” I answered.
“Do you want to talk about it? You had a bit of a dark look on your face.”
“It’s alright, mom. It’s nothing to worry about.” I was actually worried about a lot of things. I was so worried that, if I’d actually not done it all earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to do my homework for the week. Thank goodness for that, at least.