The Alicorn Academy

by kudzuhaiku

Breathing Room

Ivy hung from a tree, things finally back to some sense of order. She was pouting, and for good reason, somepony that she had loved dearly had died. And she was not allowed to go to the funeral. She missed Rarity already. Rarity who had lost so many hoof files trying to trim Ivy’s claws into something a little more ladylike. Rarity, who had worked so hard to create beautiful clothing for her dolls because Ivy had trouble wearing clothing her self. Rarity, who had always told Ivy that she was beautiful and delicate. Rarity, who was now gone. Ivy wanted dearly to say one last goodbye.

Celestia had felt it was too dangerous.

And now she was in the royal gardens, hanging from a tree. Guards were near. All around. Not just the gentle pegasi of the day, but the big hulking brutes of the night. Ivy took comfort in their presence.

She thought about those lost in her own life.

Angel, whom Ivy had discovered, who had appeared to be sleeping in her old basket. He had been cold. That had been a difficult day for both her and her mother. Ivy had been small, but she remembered. They had clung to one another as Fluttershy tried to explain why Angel would not wake up. Discord, still barely able to move at that point in his life, had been there for both of them.

It had been a dreadful lesson, Ivy reflected, finally rightside up in a world upside down. It felt good to think again.

She thought of Granny Smith. Gone. That had been a painful lesson as well. Applejack had tried so hard to explain it and make it make sense. In the end, Ivy, along with Applejack’s foals, all huddled against Applejack together.

Ivy missed her playmates. She longed to see them.

Ivy pondered Brimstone. He was sitting in the fork of her tree, doing something called brooding, which Ivy supposed she was doing as well. Luna had left him sitting there, way up high, stuck in the fork, a pony in a tree, free to leave when he figured out how to wink again or Luna had returned. Luna’s instructions had been firm.

He was sitting, reclining in the wooden tree crotch, his eyes closed, his face mostly peaceful with the occasional twinge of emotion.

Hoodwink and Minerva were below, in the grass. They were cutting things from newspapers and placing them into a scrapbook. It wasn’t quite the diary that the Elements of Harmony had shared, but it was turning out to be an important book. At least for them. A way to keep track of everything as everything seemed to get worse. Some of the newspaper clippings were about them. Many were obituaries, a big Brimstone word for something as simple as a note saying somepony had died.

Ivy reached up with her hind foot and took ahold of the branch. She scooted herself closer to Brimstone. He had agreed to be her special somepony. And now they were keeping their own special journal together. Ivy had already made a few entries, and worried that Brimstone, if he made an entry, would fill the entire book in one go.

Minerva sat in the companionable silence, trying to manipulate a pair of scissors to cut out a newspaper article. Ivy and Brimstone were above, with Brimstone doing something called brooding, which has caused all of them to sit in silence. They were all thoughtful. It was much easier to summon magic in moments like these. Fewer distractions. Scissors snipped. Magic worked. All very simple when the air wasn’t filled with an exchange of words. Still, Minerva wished that somepony would say something. She was something called an extravert. Long silences were trying for her.

At least she wasn’t alone. That was worse.

Better to be silent with friends.

She heard Ivy’s claws scraping above her and saw Ivy scooting over a bit, getting closer to Brimstone. Ivy and Brimstone were each other’s special someponies and now had a journal to keep together. Minerva suppressed a giggle.

Somepony important to Ivy had died. Minerva didn’t know the pony, but had heard stories. She had been one of the Elements, one of the Saviours of the Crystal Empire, and she had been a good pony. She had been a lot of things, but what had seemed important to Ivy was that she had been a friend. Something Ivy valued.

Ivy valued her friends, Minerva reflected thoughtfully. Minerva felt an odd sense of pride, being a crystal pony and being part of a dragon’s hoard. Minerva wasn’t sure that she had made sense of it yet, nor was she sure that she needed to make sense of it. It simply was, she reflected. After everything that had happened, she knew that she shared a special bond with her three companions. Her friends. She doubted anything could ever change that. Much like the Elements of Harmony, the four of them had a very strong bond. Exceptional bonds.

Minerva marveled at her magic and closed her eyes. She could do things other foals her age could not. She was a Silvermane. And, as she discovered, even here at the school, away from the crystal shaping unicorns of the Empire, she was gifted. Fillies her age still had lots of trouble with even the most basic spells, and Minerva was picking up speed. She snipped with the scissors. The silent reverie really making her magic sing.

Or perhaps it was her thoughts about her friends, Minerva thought, her mind suddenly reeling with the possibilities. All of this silent focus. She reached out, pushing out a stream of active consciousness, feeling every blade of grass around her. Every leaf. She felt the books before them, some of the scrapbooks, others just books, things to read later. She felt the papers. She felt everything. Minerva began to feel at one with the universe.

She felt a gentle tapping on her cheek, a hoof trying to get her attention.

Minerva opened her eyes and saw Hoodwink, hovering before her. Her forelegs now folded over her chest, looking mildly annoyed, but saying nothing. It slowly dawned upon Minerva that she was levitating Hoodwink.

To Minerva’s credit, she didn’t panic and drop her friend. Instead, she continued to suspend Hoodwink in the air and smiled, her confidence reaching an all new level. Cadance wanted Minerva to feel a sense of confidence. Cadance would be proud.

Hoodwink sat in the silence, reading newspaper snippets, listening to the squeak of scissors as Minerva manipulated them. Her mind buzzed. It was difficult to keep track of everything that had happened as of late. And all of the changes. Of all the changes, the changes that Hoodwink felt about herself were the most profound.

When crisis had happened, Hoodwink had taken charge, something that Hoodwink would have never believed possible. She had always been slow, indecisive, unsure and unconvinced of her self, afraid of crowds, afraid of other ponies. She had loved her dolls more than other ponies. She reflected upon her magic, her talent, and her wishes as a foal that her dolls would come to life and keep her company.

She had friends now. Not dolls. And when things happened, Hoodwink was one to take charge. She reflected upon the recent events with Ivy, remembering how fear had gripped her, and she had remained mostly calm.

Celestia had given her a long talk after everything that happened. Hoodwink now had her own special journal assignment, writing down and taking note of her budding leadership abilities. Recognising them when they happened, observing how they had an effect on others, and how they made her feel. Hoodwink also had to write about how an event might play out differently if no leader presented itself. It was not going to be an easy task. But she was allowed to ask her friends for help.

Her reflection was broken by an electric tingle dancing all over her body, making her hair stand up a bit, well, stand up a bit more than it usually did. Even Celestia’s strongest magic could not make her mane behave. Celestia was really quite frustrated that her student always looked so disheveled. No force in the known universe could make Hoodwink’s purple blue indigo mane behave for very long.

The electric tingle continued, and Hoodwink suddenly felt very light. She realised she was floating now. She looked over at Minerva, whose horn was glowing a glittering silver colour. This was new, Hoodwink reflected, floating in the air. She reached out and gently tapped her friend, trying to get her attention. And then she crossed her forelegs and tried to look authoritative, hoping that a glace would get her lowered back down to the earth. She really hoped that Minerva wouldn’t drop her. She saw Minerva’s eyes open and Minerva smiled.

Hoodwink felt a surge of annoyance as she continued to hover. She was going to have to work on her ‘I’m in charge’ look, and she began to take mental notes on what to write down in her journal.

Brimstone reclined in the crotch of a tree, his yellow belly towards the sun, his head resting on a branch. He was surprisingly comfortable, being a pony stuck in a tree, which was not the natural state of things for ponies.

Except for Ivy. But Ivy wasn’t exactly a pony. Brimstone didn’t care about that though. She was pony enough in his mind.

His mother had left him here, the ground alarmingly far below. She had to go someplace. And if Brimstone wanted down, he could wink down, she had told him.

This was mildly problematic.

He still wasn’t sure how he had winked the last time. Stink-winked. He had simply exploded from embarrassment. All of his atoms and molecules had exploded violently into a cloud of stench and then had reformed elsewhere, elsewhere being over his mother, which was the last thing he had thought about before exploding.

He had discovered that his first wink had been some considerable distance. Something that very few unicorns could say about their first wink. He had gone from the student infirmary all the way over to the warren of private rooms and quarters where Luna and Celestia ate their meals privately, away from the formal dining rooms. It had been a very long way. Through many very solid walls. And quite a number of wards designed to keep teleporting unicorns away. It was really quite amazing once all the facts came together.

Brimstone felt a sense of pride. Luna had been so very happy with him.

And now, she was back to challenging him. The brief moment of glory had been a bit too brief. And he was right back where he had started. Trying to impress his mother. His mother was always goading him on. Never happy about his accomplishments for long. Always driving him forward. Never allowing him to rest or revel in his own glory.

And Brimstone understood why. At least on some level. His mother had high expectations. He did too. Of himself. He had never been one content to rest upon his haunches for long.

He heard a creaking on the branch close by and the scraping of claws. Ivy was coming a little closer.

Ivy.

Cadance had said that he loved her. And he supposed that he did. Even if he didn’t understand all of these feelings. He had a very adult mind trapped in the body of a small foal, and while that gave him some unique perspectives on life, it hadn’t prepared him for this. He didn’t know what he was feeling. He felt small again, young, not knowing, a lost foal trying to make sense of the world. And none of his vocabulary could help him. None of his carefully chosen words could actually express what he felt. He felt a twinge of shame for a moment. How could he express to those adults around him that loved him and took pride in him that he would most certainly kill more ponies to keep Ivy to himself. It was something he wrestled with in the back of his mind. If somepony ever tried to lay spells on her ever again…

Brimstone shivered in the warmth of the day, his pea soup coloured mane falling into his eyes. He tried to blow it away with little success.

There was only one adult that he really felt understood how he felt. No, he thought, scratch that. Two. Nightfisher and Moonshine. He had gone to talk to them about what he felt when he couldn’t think of anypony else. Moonshine had said something about making an example of his enemies so they would fear even the coming of his shadow, and a lot of other things that didn’t make sense. Nightfisher told him to abandon those terrible thoughts and focus on love. Nightfisher was a changed mare. She was still recovering, down in the depths, trying to regrow skin and her pelt. She looked awful, but Brimstone had been brave. He had spent some much needed time with her. She was his foalsitter.

Like Hailstone had been. He quickly pushed that thought out of his mind.

Too late, he thought. Too late. Thinking about Hailstone made him think about his mother. His real mother. He thought about everypony that had been lost forever to him in his short life.

Ivy had lost her real mother as well. And both of them had been extraordinarily lucky to find mothers that loved them, inspite of their oddities. Or maybe because of their oddities.

He thought about Ivy’s mother. Fluttershy. She had kissed him before departing, whispering a few words before breaking her embrace with him. “Keep Ivy safe.” She had said. He felt himself blushing. He remembered Discord snatching him in his tail and hoisting him to eye level as he stood bipedally, and they had stared at one another for a moment. Discord had said nothing, but an understanding had been reached. Ivy was his filly. His daughter. His precious foal. And Discord loved her. A great deal. Thankfully, seemed to be content to share her.

For this, Brimstone was most grateful.

Author's Note:

Finally, some much needed breathing room.

Only one more major event, and then this story will be done. It has been a bumpy ride, I am sure. I've had to make some rotten choices with some of my characters. I feel bad for it, but I stand by it.

The third part of this trilogy has already taken shape and has a rough outline. Going to have to make a few more tough choices with certain characters. I hope you will stay with me. I hope my work holds some meaning. And if my work is lousy, than I hope that it at least inspires others to do better.

Thanks. Please remain calm as we begin our final approach.

Comments

[Solarnight]

[scooterdash]

Hoh shite I feel a storm a brewing!

[Misty Horse]

And I have to read all of this regardless of those upcoming tough choices...