Chapter 14 -9th. Day of the Third Month, Year 11 AE.
We have done it.
The new beacon has risen in the skies of Equestria. Huzzah and glad tidings to all pony-kind. Long may our kingdom stand and prosper.
Do not mind the tears that stain your pages, O diary, they are naturally tears of triumphant joy, not of shame and regret.
And gratitude.
By all the powers, the price that I might have paid for this to come to pass would have been more than I could bear.
I have little doubt that even now our praises are being sung in the vaulted halls of Castle Canter, among the high colonnades of Cloudsdale, and atop the roofs of Mane Hat, and for their part Cookie and Pansy are well deserving of the accolades, but I would that my name be struck from the roll of honor.
I most certainly do not deserve to be known as "The Clever" for what I have done this day.
While glad I am that the cool blue light of the great diamond now shines among the stars, it will always be a reminder of this night to me. And so, O diary, I will write an account, blurred by my tears and jumbled in my weariness, so that the truth shall ne'er be forgotten. The wrong I have done, and the grace that I received despite it all, I shall carry with me to my final rest.
Once again I must begin by filling in the gaps in my reminisces caused by my extended dereliction of my chronicler's duties. The long months of the winter wore heavily upon me after the events of Hearth's Warming, and my days were marked with growing frustration. I was like a chained dog, constantly straining against my tether and barking at any who came near.
My careful study of the crystalline heart produced by our last failed effort produced little of relevance, as I have exhaustively detailed in my lab journals. Deciding it was a needless distraction, I had Cookie pack it away among the other Hearth's Warming decorations.
Would that other distractions would be so readily shut away, that was my attitude during those bleak months. I look back with chagrin and understand that in my obsession with completing my task I was becoming more and more distant, impatient, and irritable. The interruptions seemed constant, coming from all directions and at all times.
The occasional clamor of the children, particularly on days when it was too cold or wet for them to go outside, would scatter my thoughts like a stone cast among the fish in one of the reflecting pools in the gardens of Castle Canter. I would bear it for a time and try to ignore it, hunching over my desk with quill biting deeper and deeper into whatever parchment lay before me, until my intemperance would burst like a chestnut upon the fire and I would shriek like a harpy over my shoulder and slam my door. Often repeatedly for emphasis.
Cookie, bless her, took stern steps to ward my study from these outbursts, but at times she would become cross with me, comparing me to her sire, a who by her account was the sort of stallion who would come home from his day's labors to settle in like a brooding dragon in its lair, compelling all in the house to walk on tip-hooves and speak in hushed voices lest they rouse him in wrath from his rest. As the months wore on, she became more and more fed up with my peevishness, and now I shudder to think what might have happened between us had I the temerity to directly upbraid one of her foals.
The racket of the children scarce compared to the uproar when her excellency Commander Hurricane arrived, flush with our carefully composed letter regarding Pansy's pledged troth to Fletching crumpled in her pack. I found my pegasus friend's husband to be hiding beneath my desk shortly afterward, quietly pleading for asylum.
Having no patience for such tomfoolery I cast him out of my study, callously plugging my ears with sealing wax at all the subsequent screaming, shouting, and shaking of the very rafters as Hurricane got the drop upon him. He managed to slip out of her hammer lock and dive out a window, I was told, and led her on a frantic chase across the broad skies of Equestria. I did notice that Pansy was a more than a bit cooler in her attitude toward me afterward.
All was mercifully quiet after that, until Hurricane brought the poor stallion back some days later, trussed up and half out of his wits. I was thereafter compelled to attend a large, calamitously noisy celebration that started in the main hall and spread to the courtyard, the roof, and the clouds above when Hurricane declared Fletching "acceptable" and summoned all of her warriors to drink to Pansy's health and toast her upcoming union.
And if that weren't bad enough, during her stay, the Commander would frequently barge into my study and demand to be appraised of my progress on recreating our nation's beacon, spinning ominous tales of griffons, dragons, and other barbaric creatures massing on our borders to rumors that we ponies had lost our magic and were ripe for attack. Her final words to me before she returned to her troop formations on the northern border was to "snap it up". As though the pressure upon me was not already unbearable.
Most irritating to me of all, however, were visits from the old grump, who would turn up in my study without a sound save the clatter of his bells to peer over my withers at my work like he'd done in my bygone student days, leaving me fuming with naught but the clicking of his tongue or a wry shake of his head as he left.
Part of me wanted him to just give me the answers I was so painstakingly seeking, although he told me with a dismissive chuckle that he knew nothing of the spell I was researching when I snappishly demanded them from him. Part of me desperately wanted to see him sat upon by an immense, incontinent dragon, a desire that was received with just as many chuckles on the day I snarlingly made it known.
Since our brief meeting at Fort Everfree, he hadn't darkened the doors of Paradise Estate until shortly after the New Year was rung in. Then all of a sudden on one blustery day he showed up and somehow inserted himself into the household with all the brazen aplomb of a stray cat inviting itself inside a creamery. And even more infuriatingly they all took to him almost instantly, especially the children, who called him "Gaffer Jingles". Even Crimson declared to me that he was "An affable enough old fellow once one got to know him". It was many days before he saw ought but my back as we lay in our bed after he said that.
The one benefit to his being underhoof, that even I in my intemperate mood would admit, was that he had undertaken Dawn Heart's beginning tutelage in magic. They would walk among the sleeping trees of the orchard, or wander the forest, speaking of everything and nothing at all. Far and wide did they range, sometimes as far as Saddle Lake or Fort Everfree.
And thus were the seeds of my terrible mistake sown, as the dear, sweet poppet would intrude on my solitary toiling to proudly show and tell me what she'd learned. Now I would own that she had been making remarkable progress, for while the tricks she was learning were simple foal's lessons: levitating small objects, lighting and extinguishing candles, changing the color of a kerchief and the like, when one considered the vast power she was keeping under control without something exploding I should have been quite effusive indeed in praising her.
Instead I was at best cordial to her, but increasingly brusque as I would hustle the poor filly out of my study as soon as she'd gotten to the point, with hasty, wooden expressions of approval, followed by the door slamming shut and the bolts being thrown.
I think there was a festering jealousy underlying my thoughts, among other things, as I envied the old grump stewarding this precious child in my chosen calling rather than me. I would like to pretend that my affection for little Dawn kept me from being too harsh with her, but now I know it was but a flimsy veneer over the senseless poison that I had been accumulating in my heart.
It was early in the afternoon when poor Dawn came bounding into my study, disrupting my papers with her flapping wings and excitedly proclaiming that she was able to float more than one thing at the same time. Barely looking up from my work, I muttered something vaguely complimentary but pointed, both in tone and in the direction of the door.
Her enthusiasm undimmed, she began to pluck up random objects in the golden glow of her magic and cause them to float lazily about my little chamber. By chance I looked up to see her lift my confounded star-gazing glass from its bracket to join the books and bric-a-brac drifting like flotsam in the air.
Something inside me drew taut like a bowstring, and my temper flared. I shouted for her to put the accursed thing down with such vehemence that it startled her, and she let everything drop. The gazing glass, my gaudy treasure, the vain symbol of a lowborn candle maker's daughter risen to undeserved heights, fell to the floor with a sickening crunch, the casing burst and the lenses shattered.
I almost cannot go on, O diary, but in penance for my shame I feel I must. In my foolish heart 'twas like when my alchemy table was set alight in my clumsy youth. The hot rage filled me, boiling up and vomiting forth as a tirade that now leaves my insides feeling like the shards of blackened glass that were left behind.
I called her a little monster. I called her a freak of nature. I called her Nemesis. I accused her of ruining my life. I told her she was responsible for uprooting me from my home and casting me away from all I had known and out into the wilderness. I called her a curse on my days and a bane on the existence of all pony-kind who destroys everything she touches.
Then, may my hoof shrivel and blacken in the ice of an endless winter, I struck her across her sweet, innocent face.
It is etched in my minds eye, O diary, the blank look of stunned betrayal that washed over her bruised visage, then she turned with a sob and fled. Wretched fool me, still drunk with self-righteous anger, I slammed the door behind her and turned, muttering invectives under my breath as I set to cleaning up the mess in my study, scarce realizing what I had done, and scarcely taking notice of a noise like a peal of thunder that shook the house a few moments later.
As I knelt, contemplating the ruins of my oh-so-precious gazing glass, the study door exploded into flinders, bucked aside by Cookie. A whirlwind filled the room, tossing papers in all directions as Pansy charged in. With a growl like an enraged wolf she lifted me by my throat and shoved me hard into the wall, demanding to know what I had said and done to Dawn Heart.
I choked, O diary, not from my undeserved friend's iron grip, but on a surge of sick realization that rose from my wilting heart at the depth of the wrong I had just done. I broke down, and confessed all to them through a torrent of bitter tears that has not yet quite abated, begging them to take me to the poor filly so that I might plead for her forgiveness.
My blood chilled in my veins when Cookie informed me in a cold voice that they did not know where Dawn Heart was, as she had fled the house. I took to my heels and galloped to the courtyard, staring out past the twisted, smoking wreckage of the front gate in wide eyed horror at the empty fields and bare trees blowing in the wind of a gathering, late winter storm.
Edging into hysteria, I begged them to summon the stallions so that we might search for her, in turn pleading with fate to be kind as I declared she cannot have run very far.
My wretched heart sank further as Pansy gave a terse shake of her head, reminding me that she had been teaching Dawn to fly since convalescing from her broken wing. Cookie gave a well deserved twist of the knife at my incredulity, flatly stating that the poor filly could barely get me to acknowledge her achievements in magic over the past several months, thus it stood to reason her learning to fly escaped my notice.
Desperation seized me, as visions of a thousand terrible fates befalling the filly buzzed in my head like hornets, their stings all the sharper with the fear that I would never get the chance to tell her I was sorry.
Scarcely pausing to throw on a cloak, I lit my horn like a blazing torch and charged pell mell into the frigid rain, frantically calling Dawn's name at the top of my lungs. Dear Pansy took wing to try and catch me, but I flung her aside with a surge of thoughtless magic, and glad I am now that I did her no harm save a roll in the cold mud of the courtyard. I heard Cookie telling her to forget me and go instead to Fort Everfree to summon the yeomane warders while she roused the stallions.
I know not how long I stumbled aimlessly through the fields, shouting myself hoarse after my precious Dawn. Hours and hours, I should think, as the grey light behind the clouds began to fade and fill the cold air about me with a deepening gloom.
Ever more the fool I strayed into a marshy valley, the cold turf subsiding to frigid mud that clung to my weary legs and dragged me deeper with every laboring step. Undaunted in my frantic search, I pushed on, howling for Dawn as exhaustion numbed my body more insidiously than the cold. Unaware of my situation until it was too late, I suddenly found myself stuck fast.
O diary, how my heart guttered like a dying candle when a hissing voice bubbled up from the creeping mists, telling me that dawn would not be coming for me. I thrashed, frantically glancing about in the greenish light of my horn, going still but for my panicked, panting breaths as a terrible black thing, like a swaybacked, bony horse made of oily smoke and tar, rose up from the muck that I had sunk in up to my chest.
It slithered in a gyre around me, whispering dread rhymes to kill all hope and courage. The thing's words are burned into my memory, O diary, and I fear I shall hear them in my nightmares for the rest of my days. "Grindeylow, down, down ye go, drowned and gone where none will know. In too deep, who will weep? Evermore yer bones will sleep."
It came to a stop before me, and extended a pulpy tentacle from its forehead as it fixed my gaze with the milky white eyes of a corpse. This horrible appendage it stroked ever so gently down my cheek, leaving a chilling trace of slime like the path of a snail. It gave a mirthless chuckle, whispering that my fear was exquisite. I could not move. I could not even scream.
I was never so grateful to hear the jingling of bells.
Then came a booming laugh, that caused the fiendish thing to flinch like it had been whipped. "Bogworry! Go back to your slurry! You've come to the end of your luck! We've naught to fear, begone from here, flee back to the slime and the muck!"
The creature puffed itself up like an adder, lashing the tendril on its forehead as it hissed its defiance, only to let out a shrill shriek a moment later as it burst into an inferno of blue flames. It thrashed convulsively and dove beneath, leaving only a soggy hiss and a lingering, acrid curl of smoke to mark its passing. The blue fire remained, radiating calm and assurance from Starswirl's proud horn as he towered over me with a stern look on his face, his beard fluttering in the fitful breeze.
I fell weeping hysterically into his embrace, nearly knocking him onto his rump, as soon as he'd lifted me with his magic out of the mire and set me on my shaking hooves. With unaccustomed gentleness he rocked me and stroked my back. "There there, poppet. All will be made right."
I blubbered about poor Dawn Heart, bitter self-recriminations and apologies pouring from me with every ragged breath. The dear old grump smoothed my sodden mane, and told me not to fear. He had a strong suspicion as to where she was, assured me she was safe there, and said he would take me to her.
Then, laying a hoof alongside his snout, he gave me a knowing grin as his horn flared with a blinding white light, and I suddenly felt like I'd been yanked tail first upward through a chimney, tumbled about like dice in a cup, then unceremoniously dumped out onto my croup on the rounded stones of a gravelly riverbed with a loud snap of magical energy.
Blinking soot out of my eyes as the smell of smoke lingered in my nostrils, I cast about to find my bearings, and saw the stockade walls of Fort Everfree atop its promontory in the near distance. My jaw dropped in shock. What magecraft was this, that we had traveled so many miles in the barest blink of an eye? I looked up with awe at my old mentor, and he let out a chuckle and gave me a smug wink.
I struggled to my hooves as the old grump casually brushed his jingling cloak off with his tail. I realized we were standing at the mouth of a grotto in a cliff wall. A soft, pale glow was emanating from inside.
Cutting off my stammered questions with a toss of his head that waggled his tangled beard, and bade me follow him in, keeping still and silent until he said otherwise. Too worn out to argue, I did as he commanded, and fell into step behind him.
Inside all was quiet, save for the soft sound of a filly weeping. Starswirl held out a hoof and shushed me, stopping me short as I nearly bolted forward. There before us, dear, beautiful little Dawn Heart sat, her wings drooping and her head hung, in the gentle, radiant light of a crystalline sapling that glittered with iridescent colors, all the shades of the rainbow, at the tips of its delicate, diamond shaped leaves.
Now solemn, he approached her, his bells hushed and comforting with the steadiness of his gait. He spoke to her in low, gentle tones, too low for me to hear even in the silence that pervaded the air.
Dawn saw me, but I could not bear to meet her gaze as she rose to her hooves and cautiously approached me. The words stuck in my throat as I forced them out over bitter sobs. I was sorry I hurt her. I did not mean the terrible things I said. I was a horrible, wretched failure as a caretaker and as a pony. I begged her not to hate me. I begged her to forgive me.
And she did.
She kissed my dirty forehead and hugged me and told me she loved me. Forever. No matter what.
I never shall be worthy of such boundless love, O diary. But what else can I do but accept it as the gift that it is?
I love her. Forever. No matter what. [1]
It was some time before I was able to stand upon my hooves and see clearly, but when I finally did I looked about and noticed that the strange little tree was glowing brighter, and that tiny berries of red, purple, and pale pink had appeared on three of its branches. In a hushed voice, raw from my day's exertions I asked my old teacher these questions: What was this place? What was that mystical tree?
He turned to admire its gleaming loveliness. "This, my dear, is the reason I have been spending so much time loitering about the backwaters of Fort Everfree. You are only the second mortal pony to ever lay eyes upon it. I discovered it as a mere seedling when I wandered these new lands after the Founding, and have been both guarding and studying it ever since." (As I write this now, O diary, I must wonder at his reckoning of my being the second mortal pony to be here, in regards to what I am next about to write. What about Dawn? I know she is not a normal filly, but what might that mean?)
I went on to ask him how he knew Dawn would be here as she nestled in to my side with a wing over my withers. Said he. "I have often brought little Dawn Heart down here to see how the tree reacts to her presence. She likes it here, and from what I can tell it likes her. It is in some way attuned to her, although I am unclear how."
This my dear, forgiving poppet affirmed with a weary nod. As I looked her over with the mist of overwhelming emotion receding from my eyes, I saw that she was nearly as bedraggled as I, with grime dulling her pale coat and burrs and nettles tangled in her lank mane and ruffled plumage.
Starswirl smiled down upon her and lit his horn to lift her onto his back, then beckoned me to follow. "We ought to be heading back. Alas, we will have a bit of a walk ahead of us, my dear. I don't believe any one of us are up for another apportation spell." (I must press him more about this in the future.)
As we trudged through the receding drizzle on the road to Paradise Estate, the dear old grump spoke softly to me over the steady rhythm of hoof falls and jingles, keeping his voice low so as not to rouse a slumbering Dawn. "Have you ever wondered why I wear these bells, Clover?"
I admitted that I had, my curiosity perking my ears despite my bone-deep weariness. It was a question that like so many others usually brought only a brusque dismissal and a command to pay better attention to my studies. "Before this child appeared among us, I was the most powerful wielder of magic in all the lands. This is no vainglorious boast, merely an observed and quantifiable fact. I have worn these bells since my youth, because ponies feared me, and wanted advance warning when I approached."
After a few more jangling hoofbeats he continued. "I have always been an outsider. I do not know much of friendship, or of the closeness of family. That is my lot and I bear it. I strive for the greater destiny of all pony kind."
He leaned in and met my eyes with a bleak gaze, cold as distant stars. "That is not to be this child's fate. Never do anything like this ever again."
I swallowed hard and and nodded emphatically, and we went the rest of the way in silence, save for the warning rattle of his bells.
We were welcomed warmly and with great rejoicing by those keeping vigil for us at Paradise Estate. Captain Leaf was there, and took up his horn to blow the signal for "all is well", which soon echoed in response over the hills and vales. In straggling groups the searchers returned, gathering around the dear old grump by the fireside as mulled cider was brewed and tales were told.
Cookie bundled Dawn and I into a hot bath, and as I held her and combed the tangles from her silken mane I remembered the first bath we shared together mere months ago, recalling the lessons I had learned back then. Then we dried off, each had a bowl of Cookie's hearty vegetable chowder with fresh baked bread, and were put to bed.
But sleep eluded me, O diary, even as the house went quiet with the departure of the warders and the settling in of the husbands and children. I arose after having merely rested for a time, wrapped in my blanket, and wandered out into the gardens. The sky above had cleared of clouds, and now the stars twinkled in a velvet blue firmament, accompanying the pale glow of the moon.
A gentle voice called out to me from above, and I turned to see dear Pansy perched upon the roof wrapped in her dark wool warrior's cloak. She fluttered down beside me, as the crunch of hoof steps in the snow behind us heralded the approach of darling Cookie, who came from the kitchen's back door wrapped in a shawl and kerchief. With wry smiles they both declared that they had been unable to get to sleep.
For a while, no words passed between us, only the closeness of three old friends who'd been tested once again. Presently, I whispered my apologies for the wrongs I had done, and once more I was blessed with the gift of forgiveness. The warmth of reconciliation rose within me, from my broken, mended heart, and I felt it rise up to my horn and blossom forth as a flickering flame.
Our eyes wide with wonder, I gathered my wits at Cookie and Pansy's urgent reminder of the wishes of our leaders, and concentrated on the shape and color of the brightening corona of light, bidding them to join me in doing so. As if in a lucid dream it shifted to a serene blue color, and assumed a four pointed shape, rising like a great kite above us until it gracefully took its destined place in the heavens, at home among the stars and companion to the moon.
More tears rolled down my face as my friends, my sisters by other mothers, rejoiced and embraced me.
We have done it.
My beloved compatriots have since gone to bed. I snuggled in beside my darling Crimson but to no effect, as the events of the day still roiled and rattled in my head.
So again I rose and found my way to my study, lit a taper, and strove to take down my account into your waiting pages. Now, O diary, I am all but empty, having poured it all upon you. I think at last I shall be able to sleep, and pray that my dreams are untroubled.
Until next I lift my quill, goodnight.
Translator's Co-Sovereign & Mentor's Sister's Hoofnote:
[1] I must humbly apologize, Twilight Sparkle, to you and to the publisher for the droplets of moisture that spilled upon this portion of the manuscript. I accidentally spat out a mouthful of tea I was drinking due to some unexpected revelation that is not worth mentioning. That is absolutely what happened. -P.L. [2][3]
Translator's Mentor's Hoofnote:
[2] Of course it was, my ever beloved sister. It is good to keep a hoofkerchief handy in case of just such an occurrence. -P.C.
Translator's Hoofnote:
[3] Don't worry about it, Princess Luna. I "spat out my tea" several times as I was translating it. No real harm done.
Was that the Tree of Harmony they found?
Forgiveness. One of the essential things in a friendship.
Good job. I was getting teary eyed as Clover realized what she did and tried to fix it.
Now we have Luna's origin
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No, now we have luna's conception. the origin comes later.
also, good on these three strong women, having a child despite not involving a stallion! Course, the whole 'three magical mothers' thing might raise a few eyebrows...
It seems fitting in its way that Luna was born from Forgiveness.
Goodness, two updates so close together. Is this to be the new routine?
Arguably, Star Swirl the Bearded's greatest discovery was that being Star Swirl the Bearded kind of sucks.
It's a valuable lesson that can be learned by children of all ages.
If that new beacon pulls the same trick as the last one (IE turns into a foal), I expect Starswirl to laugh his head off at his former student (I know I would)
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...Wow. You're right. That is so fittingly beautiful.
--
Damn, this was so good. You really captured that feeling of despair well here. That reconciliation scene was so much. (a good kind of much)
5570310 Are you saying that her conception is not her origin? This is either attempting to shoehorn in a debate on abortion(please don't get started on that, people), or you're saying that Luna's origin is earlier(that is to say, preexisting as a spirit of some kind *mutters something about Mormons*)
Well jeez, I feel positively spoiled! Two updates in three days! Huzzah!
I adored this chapter, though it put me on a bit of an emotional roller coaster. Glad to see Starswirl back in the mix, and you may colour me very intrigued by that last little exchange with him. I know that Dawn being the herald of a new age is a very prominent aspect of the plot, but I felt like his insight into the dark world the ponies have been emerging from really drove the point home.
Wonderful stuff. As usual, can't wait for the next update!
;_______; so touching
though I'm not thinking of that scene from Iron Man 2 ... "What is, and always will be my greatest creation is you." .... though its more literal here.
Woo! Another great chapter. Also very emotional, I had to take a break partway through.
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I guess I missed something, but we did?
/I'm tired too, so I may have missed something obvious
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Eh.
Not sure what you're getting at. Origin isn't really the word you're looking for if you're trying to convey that Luna doesn't strictly exist yet.
That latter bit is really a silly thing to say. Frankly I have to suspect the tree itself honestly as to their origin and it seems to that it seems fair to say that, as yet, Celestia really is simply the embodiment of the three elements in a pony's form. All else is nurture in this context, as far as I can tell.
Much manly tea was spat this day.
5570162 No, it was a completely different crystal tree in a hidden grotto that reacts to Celestia's aura of kindness, generosity, and magic.
I really love how you are portraying young Celestia. I can't wait to see how you portray Luna.
5570825 This made me laugh so much harder than it probably should have.
Powerful chapter, looking forward to the next one.
Minor editorial nit, Pansy's coltfriend Fletcher seems to have been spell-checked into Fletching in this chapter.
Powerful chapter otherwise though. That bogworry... (shivers)
Berries of Loyalty, Generosity, and Kindness. (I think.) Appropriate.
A truly touching chapter. I honestly kind of dread the next appearance of the leaders. They don't know what Clover went through to produce this wonder. To them, now that the fire of friendship has been kindled twice, it is entirely reasonable to expect it a third time, or a fourth, and so on.
Also, Star Swirl is awesome, in every sense of the word.
Looking forward to more.
A warning, that working your way down the gaden path, could easily lead to the hangmans drop. or at the least quicksand.
Starswirl says he has been keeping an eye out since the founding? Given the greatest surge of harmonic outflow was the moment of the Hearths Warming event, dispersal of the Windigoes, certainly seems to be a reasonable explanation in this version.
Now we reach Luna in the sky as diamond?
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I think he's getting at the new star being Luna. Like Celestia coming from the warming heart, so will Luna come from the new thingy. I think birth is the word he was after.
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Actually, he started out as Fletching, and I kinda accidentally started calling him Fletcher somewhere along the line.
I'm currently kinda torn about which version I wanna go with. The readers seem to have gotten to know him as Fletcher, but I think A: Fletching is a bit more "period" B: a bit more "pony" and C: Kind of a subtle pun on the word "fetching", if you catch my drift.
So, finally we learn the secret: no conscious act of magic can create the Fire of Friendship. Only the complete expression of sisterhood, love, acceptance and forgiveness that is the true expression of all the Six Elements.
Speaking of which...
So, that is the Tree of Harmony there. I have a feeling that there is going to be a reason why its growth was to be found in the founding of Equestria. I also believe that there is no coincidence as to why it was that Clover and Dawn's reunion coincided with the birth of the Elements of Loyalty, Generosity and Kindness.
Oh, jeez, I love this. (Story AND hoofnotes). I honestly teared up reading that (and it looks like a certain Princess did too). Beautifully done, you have definitely earned a fav and a track.
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The first bit, if I asked you where you came from you wouldn't tell me about your parents having sex, now would you? Second bit, I was joking. jo-king.
Also, Sing, you need to stop looking for things to get annoyed about, it can't be good for you.
We still don't know when exactly Luna appears but it will presumably be at most in 10 years time, likely less than a month. It seems odd for her to be characterised as the younger sister if the difference is only a year or so of a lifetime several thousand years old. Still I can see how that could really get her angry being thought of as the younger / lesser sister come nightmare moon time.
Assuming Luna sparks the tree in some way in the future I wonder what will bring about Magic, Laughter and Honesty?
Dawn is adorable and Starswirl is awesome. The bogpony thing was scary, though.
One little nitpick, though. You said that the tree glowed red, purple, and pale pink, and we can assume you're referring to Celestia's Elements of Magic, Generosity, and Kindness. But Magic is not red; it is magenta. Loyalty would be red, and Loyalty is one of Luna's Elements. Magic is magenta.
5572288 Except this was published in 2013, so we didn't know that. Everyone was working with pure headcannon. While the rest of the story isn't done, there are some things that might be far too hard to change. Also I personally ignore the official division of the elements because Celestia not getting laughter seems crazy to me. I initially just had Luna as Magic because of the common connection in myth of magic to the moon, but then had a thought. Luna is a lot like Twilight in some ways, what if this includes her antisocial tendencies. This would make Nightmare Moon even more tragic because she's Loyalty and Magic/Friendship, but ends up alone.
5572864 And this chapter was posted in 2015. It's really up to the author, but since the other two were correct, I'm assuming he wanted Magic, not Loyalty for Dawn. It's really his choice, though, so neither of us can confirm nor deny anything.
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I was going for Generosity, Kindness, and Loyalty, as appropriate to the situation presented. Whether the sisters split the elements up differently later on is immaterial for my purposes.
5573127 Alrighty! Whatever works for you.
Ooooo, not good.
Ahh, poor Fletch-a-thing. At least he passed Hurricane's test, which I bet was mostly just a question of not loosing too badly.
You know, I have a feeling that Hurricane's house words are something along the lines of "We are boisterous!" There's just something larger-than-life about her.
You know, Cookie would have felt really terrible pretty much for the rest of her life if Clover had gotten lost in that bog and never made it out alive. Letting her run off alone like that just means that they suddenly had two missing ponies as opposed to one. Thanks goodness for
Tom BombadilStar Swirl.The Tree? Interesting.
You know, it figures that it would take some sort of drama to produce another giant fire in the sky, it's not like the last one came out of peace and happiness.
It's nice that for once we had no cheerful sisterly sniping in the footnotes, this seems like the perfect chapter to not have any.
5574296
Well Cookie's reasoning was something along the lines of Clover not being able to get too far before she and Pansy got a large number of searchers out and about, and Dawn had so much more unpredictability and mobility. It was sort of a Call 911 and get the fire department vs. run inside and look for people to rescue kind of situation.
There was no predicting Clover would take the worst possible random route and wind up tangling with a bogworry.
That being said, yeah, Cookie would have felt really bad if Clover vanished without a trace because of a snap call that she had made.
I am so overjoyed to see that this story has not been abandoned! And just when I thought I couldn't love it anymore you started adding in all the feels... I may have spit some tea out myself reading this particular chapter
5573127 That's actually how I see the split in the Elements. Celestia as the bearer of Generosity, Kindness, and Loyalty. Luna as the bearer of Laughter, Honesty, and Magic.
I may or may not need a new laptop now, having also spat a mouthful of tea all over my keyboard.
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Well, why does Chancellor Puddinghead want a blue diamond, and why can't she get one today? Besides being a fictional character, I mean.
This is beautifully written
Plot wise the only thing that gets me upset is how no one else took the blame for pushing Clover into the proverbial corner.
She was wrong to blow up at Dawn obviously, however all the other house mates pushes her there.
Clover is stressed out and basically not allowed to do anything else besides figure out a spell, meanwhile Pansey is getting romanced, Cookie is taking care of her family, and Star Swirl is basically letting Clover know that he can tell her what the spell is but he won't.
Instead Star Swirl teaches Dawn the basic spells that Clover wanted to teach her. In essence she feels like he is not only refusing to help her he is actively taking away one of joys of motherhood and raising her foal for her while she is stuck on working on spell he can easily solve.
Again I am not saying she had any right to blow up at Dawn, I am saying she had the right to blow up at her other housemates.
That situation would never have come to be if her
'friends' had actually behaved like her friends, and her mentor was not acting like a complete and total plothole.
Upon reflection, it must have been strange to read about what was essentially your own conception.
5578519 As I read this chapter again, it strikes me that Clover's day somewhat reflects Luna's story of Nightmare Moon. The betrayal, the separation, and the forgiveness and reconciliation. That the blue diamond that will come to be Luna is created after that is very interesting. Was this a planned allegory, or a Bob Ross puts it, a happy little accident?