//------------------------------// // 700 years in the past // Story: The Phantom of Canterlot // by Azure Drache //------------------------------// Canterlot, 700 years ago It was a balmy summer day in Canterlot; a few isolated cotton clouds moved lazily across the sky and provided shade for the many ponies going about their day's work, be it buying or selling necessities, visited friends or just enjoyed the beautiful weather. Yes, even seven hundred years ago, Canterlot was a place full of life and joy, met with the hustle and bustle and loud noises that were typical for such a large town. So it is not surprising that hardly anypony took notice of the young pegasus mare who walked slowly through the great big city gate, under the suspicious looks of the guards. She hesitated after she passed the gate and came to a halt at the beginning of the wide boulevard, which led into the main market square and the heart of Canterlot. It had been years since she had been here. A queasy feeling in her stomach worsened as she thought back to the last time when she was here. No, she did not have fond memories of the day she left this place. With difficulty, she shook off these thoughts and continued on her way. She did not have far to go, only a short distance along the boulevard, to the second well, then a right into the side street. As much as she wanted to calm down, her nervousness grew with each step. The memory of the last time she had taken this route came back into her mind; she had fled, crying, full of despair. A small orange pony, little more than a foal, with long green pigtails. Again, she tried to ignore the thought. "That was years ago," she thought. “The ghosts of the past have no power over me!" After a while, she arrived at the crossroad and could see her destination. A small white house in the middle of the street, on the left. There was nothing special about this house; it matched its neighbourhood in all aspects. But for this young mare, it once meant everything. When she had seen this house, her only thought had been ‘home.’ That was a long time ago... In front of the wooden door she stopped; so often had she imagined her return to here, and every time she had rejected the idea. Now she was here—it had required all of her courage, but she had returned. Nevertheless, this was once her home. She had thought she would be able to leave it all behind, but she was wrong. During her escape from Canterlot, she had turned her back to everything she knew. Her home, her parents, Canterlot—even the borders of Equestria hadn't been able to hold her back. She had gone far in her escape. So far that she had been to places that only a few ponies had ever seen let alone transverse. In her travels she had seen miracles beyond her imagination and the natural beauty of the world...and all the horrors that came with it, eagerly ready to devour a young and inexperienced pony away from home. But always, Fate had kept its hoof gently around her and she had survived when she should have not. Still, however great the dangers had been, rarely had she felt such fear as she did here and now. Slowly, she reached out her front leg, holding it a few inches in front of the door, only to linger there. Her courage threatened to leave her and she already wanted to turn away, when suddenly the door opened and a dark brown pegasus stallion with a black mane appeared in the doorway. The stallion held a small briefcase in one hoof as he placed a cylindrical hat atop his head. He was still engaged in conversation with someone inside the house and did not register the pony outside his door at first. It was only when he took a step into the street and almost ran against her that he noticed her. "Oh pardon miss..." he began, then his eyes widened in shock and the briefcase fell out of his grasp. As he stood rooted, finally his eyes narrowed to small slits and sparkled at her angrily. "YOU!" he hissed, tired, yet audibly. In her mind, this reunion had played hundreds of times, with all the possible beginnings and outcomes. So much trouble she had gone through ​​to find suitable openings, greetings and responses. But now, in this moment, all she could say was, "Yes, father. Me." Her father's face turned red, "DO NOT CALL ME THAT!" he yelled at her. "I'm not your father. You are an abomination!" This outburst got them the attention of a few passers-by on the street who turned towards them. "Father, listen to me—" "How dare you to come back here, Snowflake," he snapped at her, "after what you've done!" "What I have done!" Her temper was more than willing to take this fight but her conscience spoke up and reminded her that this was not what she wanted. She swallowed the venomous words that had quickly found their way up her throat and instead said, "Six years, Father. It has been six years since we last saw each other." "And sixty would not have been enough," he replied, harshly. "Whatever goes on in your sick mind that you thought you could return, you were wrong. Leave and never, ever, return!" He flung the last words at her with fresh anger. "Father, please..." she began, but in this moment another figure appeared in the doorway, a red pegasus mare, her blonde hair carefully tied in a ponytail. The red mare stuck her head out of the door and asked, "What is wrong, Clip? What are you yelling for?" Then her look fell on her daughter, and she froze. "Hello Mother," was all her daughter said. The younger mare could read the emotions on her mother's face: surprise, shock, disbelief, rage and finally anger. Relief that she was still alive, or joy, were not included. Snowflake’s mother quickly recovered and the older mare’s response was the same as that of her husband’s. "Do not call me your mother. I have no daughter. For me, Snowflake died six years ago!” Meanwhile, a small group of onlookers had formed, which was rapidly growing. The many glances and murmurs came to her parents’ awareness, rather unpleasantly. "Look what you've done again," her father snapped at her again, "It's just like before! You bring nothing but shame to this family!" "It wasn’t me who started yelling in the street," was what Snowflake wanted to say. Instead, she began, “I—” but was interrupted again, this time by her mother. "‘Me, me, me,’ yelled her mother. “It doesn’t matter if now or then, it always has to be about you!” "You never thought about what your actions meant for us!” her father added. “You never did care about the consequences for us!" He took a moment to breathe, then continued, "You're not welcome here, go away and leave us alone before I call the guards!" Now it was his daughter’s turn to look shocked. Sure, she had imagined many outcomes of this conversation, but that her parents would call the royal guard on her…despite everything, she did not think they would go this far. "Y-y-you would?" she stammered. "No, I wouldn’t. I do!" he replied and immediately yelled, "Guards!" “He did it!” she thought frantically, “The Royal Guard of Canterlot will be here to arrest me!” With tears in her eyes, she turned around and made her way through the crowd as she escaped. "Just like six years ago," she thought. The Fireplace chamber, Present Twilight lowered the cake she was nibbling on, and with a curious and compassionate voice asked, “What did she do that would cause her parents to hate her so much?" The baron spread his forelegs out with the bottoms of his hooves upwards. "Nothing we would say much about today, but back then, something unforgivable and heinous." “Times change,” the baroness said from her spot at the window which she had yet to open. “So does the rhyme and reason behind such. Sometimes, there is no reason.” “Well put,” the baron said, nodding to his wife. "If it was that bad then I must know. So, what was it?" inquired Twilight, placing the half eaten cake back on the table. After a moment of thought, the baron smiled mischievously. "Let yourself be surprised, Your Highness. Simply let yourself be surprised until I get to it later on." Dissatisfied with his response, Twilight reached for her glass of cider again and took another sip of it, which coincidentally hid her disapproval. "Go ahead, please," she said, after taking a long sip, only to have a new thought catch her attention. “Actually, wait a second. Why’d her parents call her ‘Snowflake?’” "You really pay attention to details, Your Highness," said the baron, pleased. "Well, her parents called her ‘Snowflake’ because that is the name they had given her at birth. The ‘Burning’ was added later, during her adventures abroad. Also, her cutie mark changed during this time; it was previously only one large snowflake. By this time, her snowflake had flames rising from its centre.” "Her cutie mark changed? Twilight asked, sceptically. "How? Even I myself tried using magic to change a cutie mark, years ago. It did not go as expected." "I'm sorry, Princess," replied Climber, "this knowledge was not passed on to me. To be honest, we know as good as nothing about the six years of Burning Snowflake’s absence." "I thought that would be part of your family history?” noted Twilight. "Fragments, Your Highness," said Climber. "As I said, the key events, or at least their results, are known to us, such as the change in her cutie mark. The details, however, like how this change was done..." he lifted his hooves again. "This knowledge is or was known, with the exception of Burning Snowflake herself, as far as I can say with any certainty, by only two others, and perhaps one more individual. But we're getting far ahead of the story." He thought for a moment. "Where was I? Oh yes..." 700 years ago A lot can said about the Royal Guard of Canterlot today. Fleeing suspects were asked to surrender politely, or if they got caught, were brought down with as little violence as possible. In those times, on the other hoof, the guards put their trust in blunt violence. The principle was clear. If a pony tried to flee, the pony had done something wrong. Burning Snowflake was now able to witness this herself, as she tried to escape through the busy streets. All it took from the guards was a quick glance from her to her father, who was screaming ‘guards,’ and they were on her heels, and those beefy ponies did not take the time to question witnesses or reconstruct the situation that had taken place. Fortunately for Snowflake, there were just two earth ponies after her currently, but at any moment flying support could arrive. Shaking off her followers in the capital's streets was almost impossible; she needed a place to hide. Somewhere she could go and hide until they’d stop searching, or at least somewhere she could have a few moments where she was seen by no one. Her mind worked hectically under the high pressure, comparing her memories of the streets and homes to what she saw before her. “A place to hide, a place to hide, I just need a few moments alone. C'mon Flöckchen you know this city, where, where, where?” Suddenly, a spark flared up in her brain. "The city administration, that's it!” A yell resounded behind her,“Freeze!” She risked a quick glance over her shoulder and saw that her pursuers were gaining on her. “Damn, these guys are fast,” she thought as she moved around the ponies that stood in her way. However, the ponies in question quickly backed away from her pursuers, making it a straight shot to her. She had no time to lose. She had to use her wings and fly off, even if it did draw in the flying portion of the guard down on her. She needed that head start more than the camouflage. With some mighty flaps of her wings, she flew over two blocks before she even noticed the pegasi and their spears had added in with her pursuers. From the corner of her, eye she saw the glint of their favourite weapons firmly gripped.. Although she knew that the guards would not kill her, a stab in her wing sinews from their spears, which would paralyse her, was always an option for them. Fortunately for her, she reached the town hall with a few seconds ahead. Snowflake flew directly through the open entrance, where she pushed a few passersby aside. A barrage of curses and angry yells was the result. Without pause, she rushed to the second floor and into the left wing. "Please, please, be there still," she thought. From the entrance, the royal guard was now heard, storming in. Burning Snowflake ran around the corner of the corridor in which she was located and saw that her fortune had not left her. It was just like six years ago. With a relieved breath, she ran through the door into safety. The three pegasi guards stood at the beginning of the corridor in which Burning Snowflake had disappeared. "From here, she cannot escape, Corporal," said the youngest of them. "This is the only way out and above the building, guards are in position. Now we have her.” "Your orders, Corporal?" asked the second guard. "Search the premises," ordered the corporal, a yellow stallion with a blue mane. "Last Strike, the ones on the right. Doorbreaker, the other side. Capture the fugitive, if she shows resistance, subdue her.” "Aye, Corporal!" they both replied. The first door was on the left side, and it was on Doorbreaker to search first. She opened the door with her pink foreleg and held her spear ready to fight. "Royal Guard!" she shouted out loud, as she stepped into the room. The room turned out to be a small, windowless archive with multiple filing cabinets. A quick glance was enough for her to see that there was no hiding place for an adult pony. Her red mate meanwhile had reached the first door on his side and had opened it. He faced a small office with a desk in front of the window. Behind it, a grey mare sat, processing a mountain of papers. Said mare looked at him sceptically when he announced that he belonged to the royal guard and was looking for an orange mare, hiding somewhere. The grey mare just shook her head and went back to her paperwork. "Clear," yelled Doorbreaker from the hall. Hearing Doorbreaker’s call from the corridor Last Strike stepped back into the hallway and shouted, “Clear." Gradually they searched all the rooms of the corridor without finding Burning Snowflake, until only two doors were left behind the bend. Last Strike looked at the symbol on the door that was next to him, and said, "That's your job, Doorbreaker." The mentioned mare also looked at the icon, nodded and answered, "Ok, I’ll take care of this room." Carefully, she opened the door to the fillies’ room and walked inside. Three small stalls to her left, two sinks, each with a mirror above it on her right and on the opposite wall, a large open window. She rushed over and peered out. Doorbreaker saw the busy main road of Canterlot, full of ponies, and her flying colleagues from the guard, here, the orange mare could not have escaped. The sound of a toilet flushing brought her attention back to the stalls. "Royal Guard, come out of the stall!" she shouted. After a moment she heard the door lock jump up and lifted her spear ready for a fight. However, it was not the pony she was looking for who stepped out of the cabin, but a white unicorn with a yellow-purple mane and a confused look. "My goodness," said the unicorn, "what is going on?" "We are looking for a fugitive orange pegasus mare, "replied Doorbreaker." Did you see her?" The unicorn went over to the sink and washed her hooves. "No, I'm sorry. I was busy. I saw no one," she said, and went straight for the door. Doorbreaker nevertheless pushed the door to the other stalls open and looked in. "Clear," she shouted as she joined Last Strike before the last door. "Then she is in there," he guessed. “That's the only room left. If she were to jump out of one of the windows the others would have her.” Last Strike struck against the door with the blunt side of his weapon. "Resistance is futile! We know you are in there! You will come out!" he shouted. For several seconds, nothing happened. Again, he pounded on the door. "If we have to get you, you will regret it!" he threatened. Again, nothing happened. "Ok, we storm in," he whispered to his colleague. "On my mark." Doorbreaker nodded and brought herself into position on the left side of the door as Last Strike put his hoof on the doorknob. With a nod to Doorbreaker, he turned the handle. Doorbreaker kicked the door hard sending it crashing against the wall inside the room. A split second later, Last Strike stormed in, his spear raised to strike. Several brooms, mops and other cleaning equipment had been taken completely by surprise and stood calmly on the walls. Fireplace Chamber, Present Climber paused in his story to take a small sip of cider. It was lukewarm by now, but the flavour had not yet vanished. Collecting his thoughts, he poured some more cider from the bottle, mixing in with what lingered about in his cup, and tempted the beverage again. With a nod of approval, he sipped again, longer this time, then continued on with the story. "Burning Snowflake managed to escape from the guards,” he explained. Twilight made ​​a sceptical expression. "You said she ran into the same corridor the sergeants were searching, didn't she?” "Yes, that is precisely what I have said." "All the rooms were searched, and they offered no hiding place, correct?" "Exactly." "And Burning Snowflake could not escape through a window, unseen by the flying guards above the building?" "Correct." Twilight rose from her seat, walked around the room a bit, and thought for a while. Finally, she said accusingly, "You told me she couldn’t teleport, Baron!" Climber nodded with a smile. "She isn't able to do so, Princess.” "But... " Twilight started to complain, but the baron made ​​a defensive gesture. "Okay Princess, I will explain it to you. If you may return back to your seat?” Twilight did as she was requested. “You remember the white unicorn Doorbreaker meet in the bathroom?” Climber asked. “Of course.” “That ‘unicorn’, ” he emphasised the word, “was the camouflage of Burning Snowflake.” “What?” Twilight shook her head, believing she misheard him. “Can you repeat that please?” “I said this unicorn wasn't a unicorn, it was my ancestor Burning Snowflake.” Twilight stomped a hoof. “I already told you not to fool me Baron and you never mentioned that your ancestor was a changeling!” With a smile, Climber answered, "Is, Princess, not was, and no, I did not, because she is not. But I am glad that my story is able to surprise you from time to time. Oh but I should add that her ability to change shape was far more limited those days than today. She would fall back into her natural form when she fell asleep or got hurt or even surprised.” There was a brief pause as Twilight collected her thoughts before she spoke. " How could she change her form when she…" Twilight hesitated for a second, "‘is’ not a changeling." “Alas, I don't know. I only know that she covered herself in green flames during her shape-shift, which allowed her to grow a horn or let her wings disappear. It took only, as far as I was told, a few seconds for her to do so. I should also add that during the night after this terrible event she cried herself to sleep in her room at the tavern. Everything she had hoped to achieve that day, remained unreachable. For her at the time, this was one of the worst moments of her life.” Twilight flattened her ears for a moment as she tried to rationalise the scenario until finally, she heard that ‘but’ in her mind. Her scholarly instincts quickly took control as she remembered the time she had transformed her friends into breezies. "Oh wait," she said, "Ok, ok, in theory, such a spell is possible, but only someone with great magical power can perform it. I find it hard to believe that a pegasus pony even can cast magic.” Then added, “It's so unbelievable." Climber nodded sympathetically, "I understand your point Princess, but it is nothing but the truth. Compassion’s adoptive mother is a pony with amazing abilities. Although you are not convinced yet, she has lived through the history of Equestria for more than seven hundred years and influenced it for only a few years less than that." Pleasant Smell once again joined the conversation, as she said, “As you heard, her skills were much weaker at the beginning than at later times. As you yourself repeatedly make the best example in demonstrating, magical abilities improve with age. Since your ascension to an alicorn, it is almost weekly that we hear of your latest successes, Your Highness. And Burning Snowflake became smarter and more powerful in her ongoing lifetime. Even Princess Celestia has…” The baron cleared his throat forcefully. "Oh. Forgive me, my dear,” Pleasant Smell said, ashamed, “I did not want to pre-empt your story. I know the enthusiasm with which you like to play with the emotions of your audience." She gave him a warm smile. Climber blushed." Yes, sometimes I let myself be carried away a bit, don’t I?" He turned back to Twilight. "To get back on topic, many of the skills that were attributed to Burning Snowflake are hard to accept as true. However, we experience much more amazing things in the here and now each and every day. Princess Celestia can move the sun, Princess Luna visits the dreams of all ponies and can change them, and things you have seen and done..." he said, leaving the sentence hang as he shot her a meaningful look. "Granted," admitted Twilight, "not everything that happened to me in recent years sounds instantly credible, but... " she trailed off for a moment. "Ok, for the moment I’ll accept that Burning Snowflake was able to change her form…excuse me, is able. What happened next? How did this poor pony become a figure of history? And what did Princess Celestia have to do with it?" At the mention of her former mentor, Twilight shot a questioning glance at the baroness. "Oh no, your highness," Pleasant Smell answered, "that, my husband has to tell you.” "Fine," said Twilight. "And you still wanted to tell me what Burning Snowflake had done, Baron." Climber implied a bow. "Well Your Highness, with the greatest pleasure."