Sins of the Ancients

by Tundara

Chapter Five: First Lessons

Sins of the Ancients

Chapter Five: First Lessons

"With power and birth-right sealed and missing,
The Purple Wizard will seek to reclaim what was lost."
-From the Prophecy of the Purple Wizard

The noon breeze sweeping down the short mountain and over the orchard was a sweltering blanket on Twilight’s face. Coupled with the long days lessons Twilight felt utterly drained in both body and spirit. She rested against the rough bark of an old apple tree, Jasper to her left inspecting the tree branches. April’s high pitched giggles tumbled out of the tree above Twilight, the little girl having clambered into the tree at the start of Twilight’s lessons.

“So, let’s go over it again,” Jasper said, a tender hand running down the length of the branch.

Twilight smiled to herself, the wizard-farmer’s movement reminding her of her friend, Applejack. Sitting up straighter, Twilight said, “Magic is an external force loosely broken into several schools, such as abjurations, evocations, transmutation, enchantments, illusions, as well other specialised disciplines. Within the schools spells are further ordered by their difficulty into one of several circles, the lowest circle being the least complex and the seventh the most.

Ticking each point off on a finger, something Twilight was proud to emulate having watched Jasper perform the same motion when lecturing earlier, she continued, “Strength in magic isn’t determined by an internal measurement or reserve of energy, like I am used too, but rather ones connection to the external energies. Theoretically a wizard can cast spells indefinitely, then, correct?”

Jasper looked down pausing. “Not exactly, Twilight. While it is true wizards and other casters don’t deplete some inner reserve, continually touching the energies can be draining and exhausting. There are a host of other issues, but I can’t fully recall them.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, frowning and looking at the ground between her and Jasper.

Twilight was thankful to have a teacher, even one who only knew basic principles. She’d have been completely lost without Jasper. It could have been weeks, or months, or even never, before she figured out how Human magic worked. A little shiver worked its way up her back at the thought of how she’d act having to stumble around uncovering her new magic. Dimly she pictured her ranting and raving, hair disheveled and clothes torn. Twilight was aware of her emotional difficulties and obsessive-compulsive nature. Without a teacher Twilight knew she’d be in full panic induced hysteria.

But was frustrating how vague Jasper was over a lot of the concepts. It boggled her a little how a wizard could be so blasé about magic. For as long as Twilight had lived she had been fascinated and loved magic. Nothing had made her happier than the day she had been made Princess Celestia’s student and protégé. To see a wizard, even a human, turn his back on magic just felt wrong. It was like looking on an eagle that refused to soar, or an otter that didn’t swim.

“Here, come and tell me what you see,” Jasper said. If he sensed Twilight’s inner turmoil he didn’t show it.

Taking a deep breath Twilight pushed herself to her feet and joined Jasper. She looked at the branch seeing greyish bark with little motes of brown, flat green leaves at the tips and the growing forms of apples.

“Look deeper,” Jasper said, with a shake of his head, as if sensing what her reply was before Twilight gave it. “Don’t look with your eyes, but with your heart.”

Now Twilight was more confused than anything. She wondered how any pony could look with the heart. Supposing Jasper meant she needed to feel rather than analyze Twilight put her hand onto the rough bark, closed her eyes, and waited. She could feel... nothing, only the roughness of the bark, cool in the afternoon heat. Twilight was about to tell Jasper she felt nothing, in an exasperated tone, when everything changed.

Her eyes still shut Twilight could see a flowing push of green-white that lit the tree up with a billion miniscule lights. She stood beneath a towering edifice of light and life, each leaf a star, each growing apple a swirling nebula. Tilting her head Twilight looked in growing awe at the roots thrust deep into the ground. She could feel the water and nutrients being absorbed, flowing and twisting up the trunk and down toward the apples and leaves. It was like she was looking on the very foundations of life.

“Oh my,” Twilight breathed, a pure joyous smile flashing onto her face.

“What do you see?” Jasper asked again. Twilight didn’t need to look to see his own smile.

Actually, she didn’t need to look to see him at all. Turning her head she could see the wizard-farmer as motes of star dust twirling beside her. He wasn’t as clear as the tree, like there was a veil between him and Twilight, but she could still see a steady thrumming pulse of energy flowing from the core outward. With a start Twilight realised she was seeing his heartbeat. The realisation shocked her hand from the tree branch causing the vision to end.

“Oh, Celestia, that was amazing!” Twilight gushed, clapping her hands together.

In a breathless voice Twilight tried to explain what she had seen. She was aware that she wasn’t doing the sheer beauty the justice it deserved. Jasper nodding his head as Twilight talked about the energy flowing through the tree. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything when Twilight told Jasper about seeing him and his heartbeat. Nodding still he gave the tree a playful pat.

“Did you see April in the tree?” he asked once Twilight finished her explanation.

Pausing Twilight craned her head to look up into the tree. “No,” she said slowly.

“Do you know why you couldn’t see her?”

“Well, obviously not.”

“It’s because I am the best at hiding!” April shouted down to Twilight as the girl tumbled and swung from branch to branch until she landed with a soft puff beside the adults.

Chuckling Jasper ruffled his daughter’s hair, saying, “That’s partly true. What I was getting at is that everything is flowing bands of energy. They can gather into great rivers deep beneath the ground and oceans, or even in the sky. Where two rivers meet there can be great tempests of invisible energy. What you saw was just a small portion of what is always flowing around us.”

“And I’ve become very good at hiding my energy, haven’t I, Papa?”

“Yes, too good, pumpkin,” admonished Jasper, a little twinkle of pride in his eye.

“I wish I had a note book to write all this down in. This is simply amazing. For my kind, magic is contained entirely within the self and then channeled through a spell matrix. This is so new and different.” Twilight shook her head, rubbing a tender hand down the tree’s trunk.

Nodding again Jasper stepped away from Twilight.

“Ah, yes, you mentioned that before. I believe that’s where the problem is with your magic,” Jasper said, indicating for Twilight and April to follow him with the wave of a hand. “You’re trying to force the magic from within, rather than connect to the energies all around us.”

Walking in step beside Jasper, Twilight nodded slowly. That was exactly what she had tried to do every time since being put into Jasmine’s body. But she could still feel the smallest spark of her own magic deep inside herself. Or at least Twilight thought she could. If it wasn’t a residual portion of her magic, then she wasn’t sure what she was feeling in those moments of attempting to use her magic.

Twilight continued to ponder the nature of what she had felt when trying to use her old magic as they walked back towards the farmhouse. She was so lost in her thoughts that it was a couple moments before she realised Jasper had stopped. Lifting her head Twilight turned to see Jasper and April had both stopped at a work-bench. Tools and dirt had been cleared off earlier when the lessons had started, replaced by the simple box Twilight had opened. From the box Jasper retrieved two items; a little black stone and a piece of parchment. He placed both items on the bench and motioned Twilight to come beside him.

“What are these?” Twilight asked, her brow pinching together.

“This is a soul stone,” Jasper indicated the black stone, then pointed to the parchment adding, “and this is what’s known as test paper. They are basic tools for gauging the strength of a wizard’s connection to magic, and the nature of magic he or she interacts with strongest. It’s rather simple, here let me show you.”

Jasper picked up the paper and stone, placing both in the palm of his right hand so the rested flush to the open air. Twilight blinked as a little light began to twinkle and grow in the stone. It was like a dim star had been plucked from the night sky and placed inside the rock. Jasper let it sit for a minute before plucking the stone up and returning it to the bench. With his other hand he passed the parchment to Twilight. Taking the parchment she saw it had turned almost completely green, with just a few little blue swirls near the edges.

Looking at both sides of the parchment, Twilight asked, “What does it mean? I am guessing the green is for your talent with plants, right?”

“Yup,” Jasper said, taking the parchment back and returning it to the box. He pulled out a second blank piece of parchment, handing it and the stone to Twilight he said, “Just hold them in your open palm, stone on top of the paper. You don’t have to do anything. The stone will do everything itself. Now, while it does its job, let me explain a bit what the paper shows. First, a question; how many Elements are there?”

Twilight blinked and looked up to the sky as if asking for inspiration. She knew that there were only a couple possible answers. Jasper couldn’t have been talking about the Elements of Harmony, so Twilight dismissed that answer. After a moment’s hesitation Twilight decided to go with both possible answers remaining.

“Well, it depends. In the pre-classical era until more modern times it was thought that there was only four. But that was dismissed by researchers who discovered that there were in fact hundreds of building blocks of matter. And besides, Fire isn’t an element, it’s just a reaction, the giving off of heat and... What’s so funny?”

Jasper’s laughing stopped Twilight mid-lecture before she could really get rolling on the topic. The man just shook his head.

Even April was laughing, the girl rocking back on her heels while chanting, “Hundreds of Elements, hundreds of Elements, ha-ha!”

“I see you know something about the Ancients, Miss Sparkle,” Jasper said, his own laughter dying away. “They too said there were hundreds of Elements. I have no way of knowing if what the Ancients believed is true or not, but, we know of five Elements. Or if you prefer, what we wizards call Elements.”

The stone in Twilight’s hand was beginning to glow and twinkle, the little mote of light inside growing as it had for Jasper. Seeing the light the farmer-wizard pressed on.

“The five Elements, as we call them, are: Fire, Air, Earth, Water, and Wood or Life. There is also Entropy, but that’s a whole different clutch of eggs. Some treat it as a sixth Element. Others think that it is more a modifier. I never understood the arguments much myself.”

Twilight was about to comment on how incorrect calling ‘fire’ and ‘wood’ elements was when the light from the stone in her hand caught her attention. Where for Jasper it had been a little twinkling star, in Twilight’s hand there was a sun, blazing and triumphant, shining its glory on all it beheld. They almost had to shield their eyes as the sun spun in Twilight’s palm, little arcs of fire growing on the miniature sun’s surface. One of the arcs snapped, a small jet of purple light flowing out of the stone and dissipating into the summer air.

“Now, would you look at that,” Jasper said, his voice breathless and awed. “I’ve never seen anyone with such a connection.” He looked up at Twilight, the tone hidden in his eyes making her gulp in trepidation.

“This is getting a little above me, I think,” he muttered, taking the stone and dropping it back into the box. “Now, let’s have a look at your affinities.”

Bounding around the pair of adults, April swooped forward, jumping to get a look at the parchment Twilight held gingerly. Twilight wasn’t sure she wanted to look at the parchment. It had dawned on her that the small thing in her palm was about to determine just what magic she could use. There had never been a type of magic Twilight couldn’t master, given time and practice. Her special talent was magic itself, something very rare since the beginning of the modern era of Equestria. Even before discovering her talent in magic Twilight had adored and idolised the likes of Star Swirl the Bearded, Clover the Clever, and Nebulas Dust the Blue. All of them were unicorns with prodigious talents in magic. The idea of suddenly being denied an aspect of what Twilight felt as a core part of her being frightened her more than any physical danger. Twilight was brought out of her thoughts by the feel of little fingers plucking the parchment from her hand.

“Oh, so pretty,” April gushed, looking at the parchment for a moment before handing it to her father, his eyes two dark motes staring disapprovingly down on the small girl.

“Let us see. Blue, red, orange, green, and purple, you are a prime user, Miss Sparkle.”

Hearing the admiration in Jasper’s voice, Twilight opened her eyes. Before her he held the parchment, his own eyes showing respect and concern.

The parchment had been dyed a deep marine blue. From the center, but not touching, four wavy lines shot outwards in a loose spiral like the arms of a hurricane, ending at one of the corners of the parchment. It was pretty, and seeing all five of the supposed indicators eased the fear.

“So, I am, what did you say, a ‘Prime User’?” Twilight asked, taking the parchment in her own hands so she could inspect it closer.

“Yup,” replied Jasper, snapping the lid of the red box closed. “I don’t know how much more help I can be to you, Miss Sparkle. I could try to help you connect to the weave, maybe stumble through explaining the elements and how it feels to touch them. But I’m primarily a Life user, and you’re strongest in Water. While I have the ability to connect with Water, I left before studying how. With your strength I’m concerned that trying to stumble along could be dangerous, not only to yourself, but others as well. You need a proper tutor and teacher, not some failure like me that’s spent the last two decades raising apple and peach trees. I’m sorry, Miss Sparkly, I truly am, but this is far out of my league.”

Twilight opened her mouth to respond. She could feel the stirrings of desperation and anxiety in her gut and heart. Without any sort of guidance, even what the self-doubting wizard-farmer could give, Twilight would be lost. He was right about how dangerous stumbling around trying to figure out magic could be without proper training. The magical storm triggered by Rainbow Dash’s first sonic rainboom could have killed several ponies, including Twilight’s own parents, if Celestia hadn’t been there to help Twilight control her raging power. Shuddering at the idea of a similar occurrence happening again Twilight readied herself to beg for Jasper’s continued help.

“When you had a hard time opening the box, I thought, ‘hey, Jasper, here is a nice young miss with some magic that you might be able to help.’ But I can’t help you, Miss Sparkle. It’s too risky for me to try. You need someone who could rein you in if things got out of control. Me, it’d be like a moth trying to change the course of a hummingbird.”

Jasper slowly shook his head, picking up the box and turning back towards the house. Twilight couldn’t let him walk away. She could feel that if she did there would be no convincing him to help. Setting her jaw she stepped forward quickly, placing herself between Jasper and the door.

“I have to learn magic, Jasper,” Twilight said, her voice wavering slightly with her anxiety. She had to make him understand. Continuing she said, “Without magic I can’t get home.”

Smiling slightly from the corner of his mouth, his blue eyes were sad, showing the smile to be false, Jasper said, “It can’t be helped. Not right now. I’m not the one to teach you. I don’t think there is anyone in the valley qualified to be honest. You’ll just have to wait until you reach the Academy in Davenfore.”

“What about the Lady in the Lake, Papa? She could teach I bet!” April smiled up at both Twilight and her father.

“I don’t think that is a good-”

“It is a good idea!” April shouted grabbing hold of her father’s arm, her blue eyes pleading. “I saw it! She was all, ‘Whoosh!’ and ‘Rawr!’ and then the purple wizard and the Lady in the Lake sit beneath a starless night sky! I saw it, Papa, I saw it!”

Frustration and concern was visible, even to Twilight’s perception, etched deep on Jasper’s leathery features. He idly scratched his chin, gaze not leaving his daughter. Twilight could almost see the gears and cogs turning behind his eyes. She, obviously, had no idea who this ‘Lady in the Lake’ could be, but if it meant getting trained in magic sooner Twilight was all for the idea. Deciding it couldn’t hurt to try Twilight added a pleading look to April’s own. Jasper didn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t think that would be wise,” he finally said after several long moments. “But I won’t stop you from asking her to teach you, Miss Sparkle.”

“Yes!” Twilight shouted, jumping and clapping her hands together.

“But if she eats you for offending her by asking, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Twilight stopped jumping.

“Wait, what? Eat me?”

Jasper continued his original thought as if he hadn’t heard or noticed the shift in Twilight’s behavior. “It’ll be Tithing Day in a little over a week. You’ll be able to ask her then. You’ll need a tithe, a proper big one too no doubt, if you want her to say ‘yes’.”

“Hold on, go back to this ‘eating me’ business,” Twilight said, her eye twitching a little. “You humans don’t eat other humans, do you?”

“What? No! Of course not! That is ridiculous and disgusting,” Jasper flinched at the idea of eating another person, his train of thought hopelessly derailed.

“Besides, the Lady in the Lake isn’t a person, silly,” April laughed, though Twilight could see that the girl was also disturbed by the implications of humans eating humans as much or more than her father. “The Lady is a dragon.” April raised her arms over her head and let out a long roar followed by another of her characteristic laughs.

“A dragon,” Twilight blinked feeling foolish.

She had heard about dragons being able to use magic, but usually they were very old and ancient members of the species. Some day Spike would be able to use magic, if he applied himself, Twilight knew. But still, the idea of learning magic from a dragon was new to her, and somehow felt off. She’d only met three dragons in her life, and one was part brother, part son. The other two had been roaring, fire breathing, panic inducing monsters. The idea of learning magic from either was laughable and ludicrous.

“I-I don’t think that is such a good idea after all, April,” Twilight said, chocking down her anxiety. “M-maybe waiting until I get to the Academy is a good plan. Um, about how long will it take to reach the Academy?”

“This time of year, three weeks to a couple months, depending on your horse, the weather, and the route you take.”

Twilight felt her jaw drop open. “A couple months?” she gasped, “How far away is this Academy?”

“Roughly seventy-two leagues, as the wagon rolls, for the shortest route,” Jasper replied, pausing a moment to consider the distance.

Head spinning Twilight sat down, only half paying attention as Jasper talked about mountains and the difference between various passes. Seventy-two leagues equated into a little over four hundred kilometres Twilight realised quickly doing the math. That was assuming a humans used the same measurements for leagues as ponies. Still, there were so many similarities that Twilight felt the number was, probably, accurately translated. But for it to take so long to transverse that distance, the roads had to be terrible.

“What are the roads like between here and the capitol?” Twilight decided to ask, her voice, albeit distant, breaking Jasper out of his monotone description.

“Roads, ah I was getting to those. For the most part, there aren’t any until you cross the passes. Until then there are just a few trails, especially crossing the mountains between here and the Merit Valley. From there the roads, such as they are, prove to be a tad better. Wide enough for wagons heading north and south, but they are not well maintained. And this time of year you’ll have to be on constant guard of fires, bandits, and such. It’s a long dangerous journey to reach the upper kingdom.”

Twilight nodded trying to process the information. Everything she had just heard sounded like it had come from texts on ancient pony history. Bandits, roads that were probably little more than muddy ruts carved into the ground by wagon wheels, and other unknown dangers, it all belonged in the time of the Three Pony Kingdoms. For a pony that had spent most of her life cloistered away in libraries studying magic it all sounded so surreal, despite the constant adventures of the past year and a half.

Celestia had made certain that Equestria had an excellent road network. It allowed the food and trade of the large kingdom to flow unhindered. Cities like Manehatten, Fillydelphia, and Los Pegasus wouldn’t have been possible without the roads to bring in fresh produce. The invention of trains a few years earlier allowed an even greater flow, letting ponies on one side to visit distant friends and relatives on the other. The distance Jasper said it was to the Academy would be no more than half a day away by train in Equestria. For it to be as much as a month now seemed so impossible, and yet Twilight believed everything Jasper said. He had no reason to lie about the roads.

Plus, even once Twilight reached the Academy she’d have to convince somepony to teach her. If Jasmine was from the Academy, which was almost certain, Twilight would be confused for the wizard. That meant she’d have to spend time explaining that she, Twilight Sparkle, was in fact not Jasmine. Inevitably that would lead to all sorts of questions. Twilight hadn’t realised it, but she had started to hope that she’d have a firm grasp on this new magic before reaching the Academy. Then she’d have been able to, maybe, bluff her way into the library, and in quiet research a spell to return her home.

“So, this Lady in the Lake, what will I need to convince her to teach me?” Twilight slowly stood back up, the rampant emotions and ideas shuffling off her mind like a sheet of dust. “You mentioned a ‘tithe’, what is that?”

Jasper nodded. Placing the red box back on the bench, he said, “The tithe is what amount to taxes up here in the border regions. Once a year communities will get together in a day of celebration. There is dancing, drinking, games, and the sharing of news and gossip. At mid-day the Dragon-Lord, in the case of our valley, the Lady in the Lake, comes down to receive petitions and accept the tithes. Normally, most of the tithe is turned around and used to fund what’s needed by the community. She keeps very little for herself, actually.”

Twilight had a hard time imagining a dragon turning away gifts of any sort. Greed and jealousy were some of the strongest emotions a dragon could experience.

“And what about these petitions?” Twilight asked. She already reasoned that she was going to have to petition this Lady in the Lake, but wasn’t sure what petitioning entailed. A little guesswork from watching how Celestia managed court a couple times when Twilight was younger didn’t seem advisable.

It was April who responded, to Twilight’s surprise.

“You bow, like this,” the girl said, bowing slowly, her right leg tucked behind her left, her hands spreading the bottom of her dress, in a display of balance that Twilight found impressive. “Walk forward three steps, and then look the Lady in the eyes.”

“Look her in the eyes? Isn’t that, I don’t know, a bit rude?”

Smiling wide April shook her little dark pony tails. “Nope, she doesn’t like people that are weak and won’t look her in the eye when they petition. Dragons are all about strength, and fire, and flying, and rawr!” April growled the last word, spreading her hands like claws over her head and baring her teeth.

“And that’s it; just ask her to teach me magic?” Twilight couldn’t hide the incredulous tone in her voice.

“Yup!” April said, jumping twice and clapping her hands. “And she will be all; ‘Rawr! How dare you beseech me to teach thee magic, and with no tithe!’ and then breath some fire and then you stare her in the eye and she laughs and then she says she can’t teach you, but that is a little lie, and then you doubt me, but then... um, I can’t remember what happens next.”

Plopping onto the ground the girl caught her breath, her abundant enthusiasm abating. Twilight and Jasper shared a bemused glance.

“You saw this?” Jasper asked, kneeling down to closer examine his daughter’s reaction.

“Yup!” she replied, her energy returning. “In the tree when you showed Miss Sparkle the thing with life magic. I was kind of napping.”

Twilight could see April was about to say more, but the stern voice of the girl’s mother snapped across the air before April could continue.

“April! Laurence! Be getting in and ready for lessons! You be knowing Miss Cheryl bein’ most upset when you be late!”

“Come, let’s head to the south fields and get some work done. I’ll answer what questions I can to help pass the time,” Jasper said, his two youngest children running for the house, Laurence appearing from the barn. “Maggie will have them well in hand and at the school in a wink.”

The remainder of the long summer day passed in a hot, but pleasant, haze of tending to rows of potatoes. Under one of Maggie’s wide brimmed white hats, Twilight followed Jasper as he talked about the basics he’d been taught, stressing as he did that he wasn’t going to actually teach her how to use magic. He was just giving her concepts and correcting misinformation. Eventually the topic shifted to the Ancients. Twilight was surprised to hear Jasper talk about these lost people in almost reverent tones. She was even more surprised to learn the Ancient’s could not use magic themselves.

“That’s what the legends say, that the Ancients, a people who could travel around the whole world in less than a day, had walked on the surface of the moon, and mastered the fabric of reality, could not use magic. I’ve never understood how they could do what it is said they did without magic. We’ll never know now. Their secrets died with their civilization,” Jasper said as they returned their tools to the barn.

Twilight had been in Applejack’s barn many times, and the Conrad’s barn was practically identical, down to the hay bales. The only difference being the sheer number and wider variety of tools. It made a bit of sense, given the greater strength and flexibility of the human hand compared to using a mouth to hold an object. Tom joined Twilight and Jasper as they went back to the house, the young man having spent the day tending to the farms animals. He gave Twilight a cursory nod, but otherwise ignored her presence.

In the kitchen Twilight tried to help Maggie with preparing the meal, a dish of something called toad in the hole, baked potatoes, and boiled carrots, but was told to not worry. Twilight wasn’t certain what toad in the hole was exactly, other than Maggie laughing that it wasn’t, in-fact, toads. She did however confirm that there was meat in the dish. Washing her hands and face in a basin behind the kitchen Twilight debated trying the dish.

She knew that humans were omnivores. Meat was a natural part of their diet. But the idea still knotted her stomach. Still, if she didn’t it was possible Twilight could get sick without the necessary nutrients. Short of asking how required meat was needed in the diet, there was little Twilight could do other than hope that she could live off vegetarian meals. The reactions though at breakfast showed how rare a vegetarian lifestyle was in this society. Twilight liked to think of herself as open minded and receptive to new ideas, but she wasn’t certain if she could overcome this hurdle. Staring down at her reflection in the wash basin, at her human face, she decided to at least try.

Trying and succeeding are two very separate things, and Twilight found that she could, just barely, manage one bite of the small long lumps, sausages Maggie called them, sitting in the grip of a spiced baked mixture of flour, eggs, and milk. The meat, to her shame, caused mouth to water and leap in joy, but she couldn’t get past the idea that what she was eating had once been alive. Maggie didn’t try to hide her disappointment when Twilight pushed the sausages to the side of her plate. The potato was good and the carrots surprising in their flavour and tenderness without being soggy. Twilight even managed to finish the baked batter mixture part of the toad in the hole. But she could not finish the meat. In the end the sausages were put in the slop bucket to be given to the pigs.

As dusk approached, the sun’s lazy descent extending the long summer day, the family retired to their various forms of relaxation. Jasper and his eldest son sat on the porch watching the clouds, Jasper with his pipe, Tom whittling a wood carving, while the two younger children rough played on the dry yellow grass. Inside Maggie and Twilight tidied up the kitchen and washed the dishes. Neither woman spoke much. Twilight could sense that Maggie was disappointed in her over something.

Before Twilight could apologize again, she had done so repeatedly during dinner, the family matriarch patted her on the shoulder. Saying she was sorry, Maggie joined her husband on the porch. Confused Twilight decided not to intrude on the family’s time together. She was extremely thankful for their generous hospitality, and after the very long day, a day that seemed to linger far too long, Twilight reasoned they’d want some time without her hovering around Jasper pestering him about magic. Instead Twilight went up to the small room she had woke up in, slipping out of the hot, sticky, and smelly robes. How humans could stand their own smell puzzled Twilight. There was no running water in the house, and nothing that resembled a bathroom, just a basin next to the kitchen on the outside of the house. Resigning herself to being sweaty and smelly Twilight laid down on top of the bed.

Shadows moved slowly up the wall as the sun sank towards the horizon, giving Twilight lots of time to go over again everything she had learned that day. Tomorrow she’d have to ask Jasper if she could have a journal, or three. She’d repay him of course. But she desperately felt the need to commit thoughts to paper.

Tears briefly threatened as her mind inevitably turned to her friends back in Ponyville. Their absence was a massive hole in Twilight’s heart. Rolling onto her side Twilight kept the sadness inside and drifted off to sleep.

“Twilight Sparkle, there you are, I’ve been wondering where you were.”

Blinking at her name Twilight looked around not recognizing the voice. She could feel more than see she was dreaming. The small room and bed she lay on had been replaced by a long endless expanse of grey. The sky was a misty grey, the ground a misty grey, and in every direction there was nothing but uniform misty grey.

“Great, I’m dreaming,” Twilight muttered rubbing her forehead before a headache could start.

“Well, only kind of,” the voice said, a light laugh that sounded like the tinkling of Hearth’s Warming Eve bells filling the dream. “I managed to catch you just as you were falling asleep before you could start dreaming.”

Out of the endless grey a figure stepped forward. Thankful to have something interesting to look at Twilight examined this new person. She was a woman, perhaps a bit older than Twilight, that walked with a tall proud gait, her head of mousey brown hair held high and flowing down her back in a long and intricately weave pony-tail. Above high cheekbones pale blue eyes watched Twilight, a smile pulling up thin lips shaded a dark red. Cascading down the woman in a waterfall of pleats and satin, the woman’s red and gold robes accentuated her figure, rather than hide it like Twilight’s robes. Elongated cuffs hid the woman’s hands, trailing to the ground along with the tails of a gold belt.

“It’s been too long, my old friend,” the woman said, tears forming in the corner of her eyes, as she wrapped Twilight in a firm hug.

“Do I know you?” Twilight chocked, trying to break the woman’s iron grip.

The woman looked puzzled for a moment, then she smacked her wide forehead with a single slender palm. “Of course, April, you were a silly woman. Twilight’s only just meeting you. I’m sorry, you always kept telling me about how the Winterlands plays with time. I often forgot how you only just arrived in the valley.”

“Wait, did you say your name is April? As in April Conrad? Jasper’s daughter?”

Smiling the woman claiming to be April looked relieved. “You do remember me after all! No wait, you met me this morning, I thought. Curse the Winterlands and their obfuscations.”

“B-but, April is just a girl no more than ten years old. You look like you’re... uh, I actually don’t know. I’m not sure how quickly human’s mature. But April told me today that she is ten. How is this possible?”

“Ah yes, I remembered, this is the farthest back we talked. Hmmm, what did we talk about? Oh well, I was certain it would all come back and work out, and it did, and it will.” April released Twilight, taking a step back to fully appraise the unicorn trapped in a human body. “Yes, yes, we never saw you younger than this. As to the ‘how’, talking in the Winterlands is easy for a couple Dream-Walkers. I saw you still wore the black robes, then you’ve yet to, no wait, you shouldn’t know about that. Not yet anyways. You warned me about saying too much. It always was a problem I had.”

Holding up her hands Twilight could feel, in spite of the dream, a headache about to blossom.

“Please, slow down. I have no idea what is going on right now.”

“Oh, we had a little chat. I didn’t remember what about.” April shrugged her shoulders and again emitted a laugh like bells.

“And why are you talking in the past tense?” Twilight grumbled.

“I talked in the past tense because I was dead, Twilight,” April said absently.

The casual resignation in April’s voice dropped Twilight’s jaw more than the revelation itself.

“I died I wonderful death, don’t worry. There was lots of fire, and blood, and misery, and shit mixed with mud. But that’s war for you. Bards sang about it for centuries, which is actually why I had to die. I did regret it a bit. Not being able to see my daughters one last time, or see my favourite teacher again. That was silly and stupid on my part. After-all, I saw you later.”

Groaning Twilight rubbed her head. The headache that had been threatening had blazed to life, dream or no dream.

“Please, in plain Equestrian.”

“I... I... I am sorry,” April said, her eyes going distant and then refocusing on Twilight. “It is hard to stay... in the present... when you’ve been dead so long. We need to make this... fast... before the fog settles on my mind... again. I wanted to... help you, give you the... support you’ll need. There is a choice you make... soon. And no, I can’t tell you what the choice is... yet. I remember how much... you hate... prophecies.”

April fell to her knees clutching her head. Behind the woman Twilight could see shapes start to move in the mist. The clatter of chains began to fill the air.

“Wraiths,” April muttered, her face tense, “They can see me, now I am... in the present. I have to go soon... to the Summerland. I should have gone... centuries ago. But I like our... talks... too much to cross over. I am sorry, Master.”

“I still have no idea what is going on,” Twilight said kneeling beside April.

“I know, and I am... sorry... I can’t make things clear right now. Just know that you will... touch... so many lives here and that I forgave you long ago...” April looked over her shoulder, panting as sweat dimpled on her brow. “I have to go... the Wraiths can’t see you yet.”

Before Twilight could ask for clarification on anything April had said the woman faded away like smoke leaving Twilight alone in the grey expanse. The shapes that had been circling the two women stopped moving, the sounds of chain growing silent. Twilight sat silently, her breath tense and waiting in her throat. One started moving again, gliding towards Twilight to the clicking-clink of chains. Gulping Twilight wasn’t sure if she should try to run or stay still. She had no idea where to go, or how to wake up. The decision became moot a moment later as the shape glided out of the mist, stopping right in front of Twilight.

The creature was vaguely human in shape, with a long robe of grey that floated on an ethereal breeze, torn and tattered. From the bottom of the robes dangled dozens of chains with no feet or legs in sight. More chains fell from the cuffs of the creature’s robes and were wrapped around a thin spindly neck. Tight gaunt skin clung to the hands and face, the hands long and skeletal, the face hollow and hungry. Only a smattering of wisps of white hair remained on the scalp. Yellow cracked teeth hung inside a lipless mouth, and no nose parted the small beady red eyes, only a pair of flaps of pale grey skin. The flaps of skin fluttered as the creature began to huff and sniff the air drawing closer and closer to Twilight as she stared trembling at the creature. The rank stench of vinegar and embalming agents tore at Twilight’s nose as she took fast terrified breaths.

Lifting its withered hand the creature brushed back Twilight’s hair, hooking it behind her ear.

“Go home, living one, you do not belong in the Winterland,” the creature hissed, its voice like the tumbling sand in an hourglass.

Moving its hand to Twilight’s chest the creature gave her a push sending her tumbling out of her bed and into the pre-dawn light of her room in the Casper farm-house.