Book of Days

by Warren Hutch

Part 13 - 30th. Day of the Twelfth Month, Year 10 AE.

Chapter 13 -30th. Day of the Twelfth Month, Year 10 AE.

O diary, my ever patient confidant, woe that the dust lay so thickly upon your cover now that I finally return with quill aglimmer.

Much has gone on in the long months since last I turned your pages to put thoughts to parchment. The lingering glow of late summer was burnished to autumnal gold by the ever busy hooves of our earth pony brethren, passing with rich harvest feasting and the thundering of hooves to shake the leaves from our as yet untamed orchard. With the typical industry of their tribe dear Cookie and her family laid in plentiful supplies, filling Paradise Estate's larders near to bursting. Then snug as mice we tucked in for winter's coming.

It was a far gentler draping of the white veil than those of us who lived through the Great Migration recall, O diary. Now the crisp air rings with the laughter of well-fed foals playing in the snow and the rustle of friendly pegasi wings marshaling the soft grey clouds overhead rather than the growling of empty stomachs and the joyless exultations of the windegos at pony-kind's muttered grudges.

For my part, I have spent much of the time shut up in my study, hard bent at my research, listening with suppressed yearning to the muffled sounds of daily life going on outside like echoes of a distant, partly remembered dream. I ruefully look back on the days of my fillyhood, when many was the time I would have given the tip of my horn for a chance to shut myself away from the hurly burly of my family's household with a book in my hooves. How different is solitude when it is forced upon one rather than sought. In frequent moments of weariness I thought that I would switch places with my younger self in an instant.

But I have my duty to my lady the Queen and her co-rulers, and to all of the pony tribes, and to our brave new-founded land, and thus I soldier on at the task of plumbing the mysteries of the Warming Heart and seeking a method to reproduce it. The work is slow and tedious, and I shan't dwell upon it in your patient pages, O diary, as I have emptied enough vessels of ink onto the parchment of my laboratory notebooks in detailing my painstaking progress, if indeed progress it can be called.

I have come very close to success on the eve of the Feast of Hearth's Warming, now but a few days past. One might almost call the date ironic were it not chosen specifically on the chance that by some vagary of magic making an attempt on the same day might increase our chances of making the thing come to pass. And that was not the only way in which we attempted to reproduce the circumstances of the first appearance of the Warming Heart.

Cookie, Pansy, and I fasted the whole day, a colossal undertaking in itself as we took a hoof in preparing the customary founding feast for the benefit of our respective families. (Or families to be. More on that later, O diary!) By dear Cookie's wan reasoning, spending a day cooking up such sumptuous fare for our loved ones while not touching a single bite surely equaled the hard months of near starvation on the seemingly endless road from the Old Lands to Equestria. We resolved to celebrate a second feast when a new beacon adorned the skies that night, or at the very least to gorge ourselves on the day's leftovers in consolation for a failure whilst drowning our sorrows in mulled cider and brandy. With this promise we kept our spirits up and tried to focus on making the best of the day for the foals' sake.

It was indeed the joy of the little ones that sustained us as the hungry hours dragged by. Our darling Dawn Heart was almost incandescent the entire day, as it was her first Hearth's Warming and every experience was new and wondrous for the dear filly. She helped Crimson, Powdermilk, and Fletching locate and drag in a massive log for the hearth. (The latter handsome swain has become an ever more frequent guest here at our little manor house, even though dear Pansy's wing has long since completely healed. But once again, more on that later!) She capered with Cookie's children as they decorated the traditional earth pony Winter's Promise tree, its brightly painted wooden fruits and strings of cranberries signifying the return of bounty once the snows had been cleared in the spring. [1]

I shall never forget how caught up in the caroling she was. Our dear poppet is a great lover of all music, as I have oft attested before, but the Hearth Warming songs we have sung since the founding seemed to touch her especially deeply for some reason. She sat enraptured as we all raised our voices to the pleasing strains of darling Crimson's viol, joining in beautifully as she learned the words with much repetition.

I suspect that the songs sung in the presence of the Warming Heart on its first day among us resonate on some deep level with Dawn Heart's being. Would that I could capture sound in your pages, O diary, to please the ears of future scholars who might read this account long after we are all gone. Alas, they shall never know the sweetness of her voice. [2]

Once the feasters had been sated and the table had been cleared and gifts retrieved from the stockings hung on the hearth's mantle[3] and the foals sent to bed, we three miserable mares, grumbling from both our mouths and our stomachs, repaired to the fenced gardens behind the house, now sleeping frozen beneath a glittering blanket of packed snow. There we shivered together, sheltered from the biting winter wind only by our cloaks and a makeshift shelter of stones and ice that I had bidden the stallions to build, representing the bleak cavern redoubt where pony kind weathered its darkest hour on that desperate night a decade ago.

Presently, Cookie entreated me to start working my magic before she lost all feeling in her posterior. At my other side a soft clearing of the throat and the scrape of a hoof pawing at the crusted snow indicated that even stoic Pansy's immense patience was wearing thin. So I began, sparking my horn to life as I instructed my faithful friends to concentrate on the mental image of the Warming Heart. As I have related in my laboratory journals, my task was to channel my magic and to focus on transforming the flaming pink heart into a blue diamond as it manifested.

We huddled together, our brows furrowed and our hooves interlocked, trying with all our power to will a blue diamond version of our nation's magical beacon into being. I felt some echo of the power of that first Warming Heart surge through us, but it was different in a way that I strain to describe. It was sort of cool and crystalline, reflective rather than radiant. As suddenly as I felt the sensation it dropped away, and we all gave a start as something landed at our hooves with a thud. I opened my eyes and stared in disbelief.

There, lying at the center of our little half circle, was a lump of pale blue crystal, about as large as a pony's head, and shaped like a faceted heart. [4]

Our shocked reverie was broken as Cookie burst into uproarious laughter, flopping back onto her back and kicking her hooves in the air. A scowl darkened my countenance as my ears levered back, but before I could say something intemperate, I felt Pansy's gentle hoof on my shoulder. "Well." Said she, in her ever-tactful way. "It was a really good try."

At that, my frustration and annoyance instantly evaporated as the absurdity of it all struck me. We had indeed produced a blue diamond version of the Warming Heart, although a bit more literally than our leaders had perhaps hoped. I started to giggle, then chortle, then chuckle, then with a peal of mirth I flopped onto my back next to Cookie, dragging Pansy down with us where we three madmares proceeded to roll about in the snow in a fit of uncontrollable hilarity.

Eventually Cookie clambered to her haunches, shivering as she produced a stout flask from the folds of her cloak and proffered it to me, saying it was a bit cold outside to be doing this sort of thing. I brought out my little bottle and traded her, taking a swig and then passing it over to Pansy in exchange for her own secret vessel of spirits, observing that it was perhaps not a good idea to partake of strong drink on such empty stomachs. As one we resolved to go inside and break our Hearth's Warming fast, bearing the object with us as a pretty ornament to grace the tree. We placed it at the top, where it sparkled like the contents of my fair lady Queen Platinum's jewelry box.

The evening's final surprise came a bit later, as we gathered about with our stallions in the glow of the fire after plundering the larder for a much less grand but just as scrumptious reprise to the prior day's foregone feast. As we sat together afterward, talking softly of the day's festivities and our magical misadventure whilst admiring the way the light of the fire and candles reflected on our newly conjured decoration, I recall an almost palpable feeling of mutual affection suffusing the room.

All of a sudden, Fletching rose from his place beside Pansy and turned to face her, then took a knee with visible shivers coursing through his wings. In a faltering voice that gained strength as he spoke, he asked her for her hoof in marriage, saying something poetic to the effect of his heart drifting like a cloud but feeling suddenly blown by an inner wind to pledge his troth to her.

With no sound but a gasp of breath Pansy leapt to her hooves and took the handsome stallion of her fancy into a passionate kiss, the sudden flaring of their wings wafting a warm breeze around the room from the rosy embers of the hearth. Not to be outdone, we married mares turned to our mates and tenderly kissed them as well, and after many toasts raised and well wishes for our newly affianced friends we all retired to the warmth of our beds.

In the ensuing days I have returned to my research, performing experiments on the crystal and cross referencing my notes. It occurred to me today, O diary, to bring you forth from your undeserved exile to make note of my personal impressions of this first failed experiment.

I'll close now, as Pansy has requested that Cookie and I help her craft a letter to her excellency the Commander breaking the news of her betrothal without resulting in the breaking, so to speak, of her betrothed. A challenge, to be sure, as Hurricane will surely hold any stallion with the temerity to woo her right-hoof mare to a punishingly high standard.

Xasteriá and good morrow for now, and hopefully, O diary, the dust shall not be so thick upon you when I return.

Translator's Hoofnotes:

[1] Astute readers will doubtless recognize the Pre-Equestrian origins of what we now know as the Hearth's Warming Tree. Time, fashion, and cultural iteration have changed the decorations that we hang on our holiday trees in modern times. I find it a fascinating study of how the three tribes distinct cultures have melded. The earth ponies' symbolic evergreen is now adorned with colored lights, glass spheres, and metallic gemstones from the unicorns, while the pegasi contributed tinsel, flocking, and stylized snowflakes. Some ponies still hew to the old ways, however. My dear friend Applejack's family decorates their tree in a fashion that would be quite familiar to the earth ponies of Lady Clover's era.

[2] Princess Celestia smiled at me when we were discussing this passage and declared that ponies hadn't invented irony yet. As is often the case I have difficulty telling if she was being facetious or not. [5]

[3] The tradition of stockings hung over the hearth and placing small presents therein on Hearth's Warming Eve originates among the unicorns. I find its mention here very interesting because we begin to see the early stages of cultural amalgamation, as all the members of Cookie, Clover, and Pansy's household contribute their tribes' unique ingredients to the this microcosm of the Equestrian melting pot.

As the least physically hardy of the three tribes (and as the inventors of knitting) the wearing of stockings under winter boots was quite common in the old monoceric kingdoms far back as the Paleo Pony Period. Naturally during the winter months these stockings would be hung over a warm fire to dry after their wearers came inside.

As a culture, the tribe of my birth is known, perhaps fairly, perhaps not, for a certain amount of ostentation. The hiding of small, heartfelt presents in pockets, under pillows, and eventually in these hanging stockings was a way to avoid extravagant shows of generosity in favor of just brightening somepony's day a little. Minor teleportation spells were often employed to secret sweets, money, or small gemstones without the recipient being any the wiser.

Suffice to say, around Hearth's Warming it further behooved a pony to check their socks before putting them on.

[4] One unforeseen trend that I have noticed while discussing the content of this manuscript with friends, mentors, and family is its capacity for causing princesses to give vent to recently swallowed beverages in the form of an aerosolized cloud. This was the unfortunate result of me informing my sister-in-law of the events detailed in this passage over chilled glasses of crystal berry punch.

Princess Cadance was quite as amazed as I was at discovering an eyewitness account of the origins of the Crystal Heart in the words of one of Equestria's founders. When we later pressed Princess Celestia about it, she merely smiled that inscrutable smile of hers and replied that it certainly was interesting, but little more than trivia until the Crystal Empire resurfaced. Now that our sister kingdom to the north has returned, I believe this shall be a very interesting question to research further. [6]

Translator's Co-Sovereign & Mentor's Sister's Hoofnote:

[5] Aye, and doubly ironic that after so many years there are ponies who yearn to not hear her voice once in a while. -P.L. [7]

Translator's Mentor's Hoofnote:

[6] Most ironic indeed that you refer to the Crystal Empire as our sister kingdom, my faithful student. -P.C.

[7] Especially when I get all gossipy and start talking at length about a certain baby sibling of mine when she {excised by royal order} -P.C. [8]

Translator's Co-Sovereign & Mentor's Sister's Hoofnote:

[8] You shut up about {excised by royal order} -P.L. [9]

Translator's Mentor's Hoofnote:

[9] Whoopsie! You nearly gave it away yourself that time, Woona. Now who doesn't know when to stop talking?-P.C. [10]

Translator's Co-Sovereign & Mentor's Sister's Hoofnote:

[10] AaaaAAAAaaaugh!!!! -P.L.

Author's Note:

This chapter probably would have been more appropriate over the holidays, but it's too late to cry over spilled eggnog. Enjoy, as I try to get back into my pony groove a bit.

Comments

[Vic Fontaine]

Holy cr@p - this updated?!

*commence read!!*

[Olden Bronie]

This was really great! So nice to see you back. This was a wonderful insight into a part of Celestia's and Equestria's past. Well done, as always!!

[rdaniel_76]

2.bp.blogspot.com/-NqLK-uS7-bI/T5jCPDEQG1I/AAAAAAAAA8k/f8E1jJGCjL4/s1600/KermitTheFrogFlail.gif
So excited to this update! So many wonderful things about this chapter, especially Fletcher and Pansy getting betrothed. I can't wait see more!

[Jordanis]

That note [6].

[vren55]

5562155 I know right?

Interesting. So Luna wasn't born this way, but the Crystal Heart was... HMMM

[Vic Fontaine]

Once again, a wonderful addition. Great to see the author back in the groove!

Also, these footnotes are just damn hilarious! :D

[BookeCypher]

*Cue Hallelujah chorus*

IT LIVES!!! I'm not one to complain about slow update rates given my own pace, but...

hopefully, O diary, the dust shall not be so thick upon you when I return.

That makes two of us.

[j-grizz]

I am inordinately pleased with this update, thanks

[i_am_the_jam]

So Luna came about by a third attempt?

[jqnexx]

Nice to see this again.

[Skydancer]

Yay! You're back!

[Technopony145]

Prediction: the Crystal Heart was a gift to the Crystal Empire, much like America's own Statue of Liberty was from France.

[Aki_Iokua]

This...this is a miracle. It's alive, it's still alive!!

[Cutie Honey]

Woo hoo!

[Auburn Arc]

You have no idea how overjoyed I become whenever I see this fic update. Clever twists and heart-warming aplenty, as we've come to expect from this story, and I loved every word of it. Thank you, sir, I shall be eagerly awaiting the next chapter!

[Geoduck]

It's back! I'm so happy.

[pahnazd]

Better late than never, and this doesn't change anything about the fact that it's a good chapter!

[BenRG]

Woohoo! Great to see more of this story!

So, that is the origin of the Crystal Heart then! Born of the same magic that created Celestia! Now, I wonder when it was that the Heart's own unique magic of happiness was first seen? In any case, I'm sure that Cadance will want a suitably elaborate copy of this entry of Clover's diary for the Imperial Archives.

To me, it is a reminder that all the Pony nations have a common origin and thus have always more in common than they ever will have differences. Cadance will see it in the same way and will doubtless want it to emphasise to the Crystal Ponies their historical bond with Equestria.

[MeerKatKing]

Hurricane: So! You, you miserable pile of pegasus, you wish for the unrestricted legal right to schtup my second-in-command!?

Fletcher: N-not quite the way I would have put it, but...

Hurricane: Right! In order to prove your worthiness to woo Corporal Pansy, we demand... a test! A series of tests!

Fletcher: W-well, what is it that you want?

Hurricane: First! You must single-hoofedly defeat an Ursa Major in combat, using only you right rear hoof! Second! You must fly the Aerial Course of Doom, a series of acrobatic challenges over 13 miles - a feat no other soldier has flown and lived! And third, you must perform...

Fletcher: *sweats nervously*

Hurricane: ...a Pegasus Mating Dance!

Fletcher: *beat* Wait, what?

Hurricane: Yes! Only by publicly performing this humiliatingly hilarious dance in front of twenty thousand other pegasi will you prove your suitability as a mate for this, our national hero. Also, you must perform it before you move onto the other tests. Your time.. starts now!

Fletcher: *gulp*

[Glazius]

Wait a second, weren't blue diamonds phased out and replaced with blue m-

Oh. Ooooohhhhhhh.

[FanOfMostEverything]

This updated! And the footnotes make up a good third of the chapter! Huzzah!

It is very interesting to see the cultural commingling as is it happens, and I certainly can't fault Clover's logic. Recreate the conditions, and the same outcome should result. And it did... mostly.

Eagerly looking forward to more.

[Themaskedferret]

Glad to have Clover and co returned to us in such a spectacular fashion no less. It's a pleasure to have you return as well. Here's hoping to more writing, pony or not.

[Talon and Thorn]

I can't help but wonder if Luna's going to hatch out of that thing.

[Booster Spice]

A great collection of musings on how history came to be, and a pointer to how even relatively recent occurances could be thought to have occured far earlier.

Im now waiting for the Creation Of Luna chapter, where the footnote section is twice the length of the chapter, and the greater part of that is Redacted.

[Fareseed]

Was a long time sens I last saw this update.
This sure is an interesting story.

[wolfstorm56]

Ha, my favorite part of this is where they all break up laughing and start drinking after making the heart.

[djthomp]

(Or families to be. More on that later, O diary!)

I like the sound of that exclamation mark.

Hmn, so Celestia is the oldest sister, Luna is the youngest sister, and the Crystal Heart is the middle sister?

With no sound but a gasp of breath Pansy leapt to her hooves and took the handsome stallion of her fancy into a passionate kiss, the sudden flaring of their wings wafting a warm breeze around the room from the rosy embers of the hearth.

Alright, go Pansy!

I'll close now, as Pansy has requested that Cookie and I help her craft a letter to her excellency the Commander breaking the news of her betrothal without resulting in the breaking, so to speak, of her betrothed. A challenge, to be sure, as Hurricane will surely hold any stallion with the temerity to woo her right-hoof mare to a punishingly high standard.

Hahaha. Poor Fletcher, but sometimes you gotta fight for what you love.

[Pegasus Assistant]

Oh how this story was missed! Thank you

[Cerulean Voice]

5563946
I don't get it.