Camaraderie is Sorcery

by FireOfTheNorth

Chapter 2:17 - St. Lotentius's Day

Chapter 2:17 – St. Lotentius’s Day

“… As was common in those days in Zahar, the patricians brought their grievances to the nearest Commander of a Hundred. At that time, Hirziya Makrim was stationed at Tir-Ghirya, and he received these visitors, who said to him, ‘This foreigner stirs up trouble among us. She marries our daughters to fishers and streetcleaners and even slaves, according to our own customs so that the deed cannot be undone. At the same time, she speaks against Zarak, the Morning Star, and fills the hearts of the people with thoughts of a foreign god.’ Hirziya Makrim considered these things, and he ordered Lotentius to be brought before him,” Sister Cheerilee read to the foals assembled around her, “Hirziya Makrim demanded that Lotentius deny Faust and proclaim the weddings she had performed invalid, but she refused. Lotentius was turned over to the patricians for sentencing, and they had her beaten with clubs and stones before parading her through the streets of Kor-Ghirya, her legs impaled on long poles. And Lotentius died a martyr, refusing to deny Faust even to her beheading before the temple of Zarak. But the Word of Faust spread from Kor-Ghirya to all of Zahar, and others performed weddings in the sight of Faust for believers against the wishes of the nation’s rulers.”

The fillies and colts who’d come to her for instruction stared at the nun as she shut the tome she’d been reading from. Usually, when she wasn’t teaching worldly skills like reading, writing, and arithmetic, she would read from the Word of Faust. The holy book of the Church of One, despite being a ponderous tome, was still only composed of eleven books, and the church had been around for a long time and accumulated quite a few books, mostly chronicles and prophecies, that were treated with only slightly less reverence. The book she’d been reading from had the unwieldy title XLVII Chronicles (III Chronicles of Elidor): On the Savages of the South or The Word of Faust Comes to the Zebra Nations. The reason for her dragging such an obscure volume down from the Ponieville Convent was the current date.

“Today, the Twenty-Second Day of the Eighth Month, is the Feast Day of Saint Lotentius,” Sister Cheerilee announced, “Today, we remember Saint Lotentius’s work in Zahar to spread the Word of Faust by uniting those She had predestined to be joined.”

“Sister Cheerilee? Where’s Zahar?” one of the colts asked, raising a hoof.

“Zahar no longer exists. Today that land is known as Saddle Arabia, a land across the Shimmering Sea and on the border with the Zebrikaanian Empire. It is because of Saint Lotentius and other believers that Saddle Arabians today are a part of the Church of One,” Cheerilee explained, “Any other questions?”

“Is unitin’ ponies wi’ their special somepony really that important?” Apple Bloom asked skeptically.

“Oh, yes,” Sister Cheerilee said most emphatically, “Faust loves us and has taught us to love each other. For some, that love is a special and sacred bond, and She looks upon such pairings with joy.”

“Do you have a special somepony, Sister Cheerilee?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“No, I do not,” Cheerilee said with an indulgent smile, “For me, the love of Faust and of all you students is enough.”

From the chapel’s bell tower, somepony sounded the hour. Cheerilee and the foals remained silent until the fourth gong sounded. A few of the students started to rise until Cheerilee fixed them with a stare and they sat back down.

“I won’t keep you any longer. You are dismissed,” Cheerilee announced, and the leaving resumed, “Remember, I will be here the rest of the day if anypony needs special tutelage.”

The foals departed the chapel, most in clumps of twos and threes. They took off through the muddy and snow-strewn streets of Ponieville, many trying to prolong time with their friends and postpone returning home to responsibilities as much as possible. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo had been looking forward to this time to do some “crusading” for their cutie-marks, but now other thoughts were on their minds.

“I can’t believe that Sistah Cheerilee doesn’t have a special somepony,” Apple Bloom said as the trio trotted through Ponieville, “She’s so kind an’ generous an’ all-around a great pony.”

“That’s it!” Sweetie Belle squealed gleefully, turning more than a few heads of the adults around them.

“You going to be okay there?” Scootaloo asked sarcastically.

“Better than okay!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, “I’ve just had the best idea ever!”

She was drawing an awful lot of attention with her proclamations, the kind that might lead some ponies to act. Instead of palling around as the Cutie Mark Crusaders or doing whatever plan Sweetie Belle had gotten into her head, they could very well end up being sent home. Ponieville was a small town (though it had seen some small amount of growth since Celestia’s protégé had arrived), and even if Applejack and Rarity couldn’t be found because they were off on some adventure (as it seemed they often were now), ponies knew Magnus and Henrietta and Big McIntosh just as well. Scootaloo dragged Sweetie Belle into Sugar Cube Corner before she drew any more attention, Apple Bloom pushing her from behind.

“Sorry, everypony, it’s just … I’ve had the most amazing idea!” Sweetie Belle said once she’d calmed down a bit, but not so much that she didn’t earn a look from Master Cake. He was probably concerned about her waking the twins upstairs that Mistress Cake had given birth to only a month and a half ago.

“Well, tell us,” Apple Bloom prompted her, keeping her voice down so as not to raise the new father’s ire, while prompting Sweetie Belle to do the same.

“We’re going to find Sister Cheerilee a special somepony today, on Saint Lotentius’s Day,” Sweetie Belle laid her plan out.

“Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo said, sounding like she was about to start lecturing her, “That’s a great idea! Cutie Mark Crusader Matchmakers!”

“Exactly,” Sweetie said slyly.

“I’m in,” Apple Bloom proclaimed, “How do we do it?”

“Hmm,” Sweetie Belle considered, rubbing a hoof against her head, “There must be plenty of eligible stallions in Ponieville. We just have to find one that’s right for Cheerilee.”

“Yeah, it can’t be that difficult,” Scootaloo agreed.

And so, the three fillies set out to find Sister Cheerilee a match. How hard could it be to find somepony and convince them to court her? As it turned out, harder than they expected. At least there were plenty of ponies in Ponieville today, traveling from the surrounding countryside to purchase the things they’d need once the snow thawed in a month or less. None of them seemed to be acceptable matches, though, at least not where the young crusaders were concerned.

Of those eligible, most were colts, only slightly older or younger than the trio. Too young for Sister Cheerilee. Others were too old, widowers mostly, with few hairs in their manes and even fewer teeth in their mouths. Some were sickly or too puerile. Mayor Mare’s son Fengold was too uppity (and already promised to the daughter of Count Baukus).

If only they could widen their pool to other stallions in Ponieville, but most of them were already married, betrothed, or courting somepony else. The remaining stock of stallions all seemed to possess at least one feature that put them short of the perfection the fillies required for their teacher. Gaudiness, inconsiderateness, lack of height, excessive height, obsessive bathing, too infrequent bathing, strange obsessions that were better left unspoken; all ruled them out. It really seemed that everypony who could court Sister Cheerilee was already courting somepony else.

“Anypony else think this may be pointless an’ we ought t’ just give up now?” Apple Bloom asked depressingly as she sat on an overturned basket in Ponieville’s market.

“No way,” Sweetie Belle said, but without as much vigor as before.

“Hey, what about him?” Scootaloo asked, pointing across the market at Big McIntosh.

Apple Bloom’s brother was attempting to make some sales, getting rid of the produce in the wagon he’d hauled into town, which was now half-filled with supplies to take back to the farm. He was a very efficient pony who didn’t believe on making multiple trips to town when they could be accomplished in one. The stallion hadn’t intended to go into Ponieville today, but Applejack had been called away by the Brave Companions—something about Rainbow Dash being in trouble—so he was taking her place.

“Yes, he’s perfect,” Sweetie Belle agreed with her pegasus friend.

“Who?” Apple Bloom asked, oblivious, “Cuvrin? ‘Asn’t he got a wife?”

“No, Big Mac,” Scootaloo corrected her.

“M’ brother?” Apple Bloom asked in surprise.

“Why not?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Yeah, Sweetie Belle’s right,” Scootaloo said, “He’s kind, smart, diligent …”

Apple Bloom considered her brother. Everything Scootaloo said was true, but she’d never really thought about it, and it seemed odd to consider her own brother as a potential romantic interest for Sister Cheerlie. If they got married, then Sister Cheerilee would really be Apple Bloom’s sister. Imagine that! Their ages weren’t too dissimilar, though. Perhaps they really would make a good match, but could it work?

“I don’t know,” Apple Bloom said, “Big Mac is plenty busy wi’ responsibilities back ‘ome, not t’ mention he’s too shy t’ ever ask Sistah Cheerilee t’ be ‘is special somepony.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have to ask,” Sweetie Belle schemed.

“What do y’ mean?” Apple Bloom asked uneasily.

“Well, if we can get them together in a romantic setting, then he’ll have no choice,” Sweetie Belle explained, “Or, maybe she’ll ask him.”

“Let’s do this! For Sister Cheerilee!” Scootaloo said enthusiastically, “So, what’s the plan?”

Sweetie Belle led the two of them out of the market as she explained what she had in mind.

***

Scootaloo paced back and forth, occasionally fluttering her wings to hover for a moment. While the others fetched the targets of their plans, she held down the fort at the Golden Mane, one of the inns/taverns owned by Filthy Rich that was opened even on years when Ponieville didn’t host the Summer Solstice Ceremony. It wasn’t Ponieville’s nicest dining establishment, but it wasn’t the worst, either. It was what the Cutie Mark Crusaders could afford, with the coin Sweetie Belle had “borrowed” from Rarity’s shop. It would have to be enough.

“In here, Sistah Cheerilee,” Apple Bloom called as she led the nun into the tavern.

“Will you tell me what this is all about now, Apple Bloom?” Cheerilee asked patiently as the filly led her through the tables of ponies watching her with surprise, “Scootaloo?”

“Welcome, Sister Cheerilee,” Scootaloo said, “Take a seat.”

Cheerilee eyed the table set out before her, prepared for two ponies.

“Apple Bloom, where are y’?” Big Mac asked as he entered the tavern.

“Over here!” she called out, and the stallion left Sweetie Belle, who’d fetched him, “Why don’t y’ sit down, brother?”

“What is this?” Big Mac asked, looking at the table and at Sister Cheerilee dubiously.

“Oh, we just thought it would be nice for you two to sit down together and … talk,” Sweetie Belle said innocently.

“Well, there’s the food, so we’ll just leave you to it,” Scootaloo said rapidly as the serving maid brought out two meals for the table.

Before either Big Mac or Cheerilee could say anything, the tiny pegasus was ushering the other two fillies out of the tavern. The farmer and the nun regarded each other, unsure what to do in this situation. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had no sooner left the Golden Mane than they rushed around to the nearest window and pressed themselves against it. The bard they’d hired for a song, also with Sweetie Belle’s ill-gotten gains, trotted up and began to play for the couple as they continued to stand awkwardly next to the table. Pinkamena would probably have helped them out for free, but like Applejack, she was off doing who-knows-what with the rest of the Brave Companions.

“Come on, come on,” Sweetie Belle pleaded as Big Mac and Sister Cheerilee continued to stand by the table.

“The food does smell good. I’m accustomed to bread, water, and stew myself,” Sister Cheerilee said, “I suppose it could be nice to sit down for a meal and talk. It has been quite some time since we’ve had a chance for extended conversation.”

“Since we were colt ‘n’ filly,” Big McIntosh said, “I s’pose.”

Outside, the Cutie Mark Crusaders squealed with delight as Big Mac pulled Sister Cheerilee’s chair out for her and they sat down to eat.

***

“What a waste,” Scootaloo lamented later, kicking a rock ahead of her on the path, “All they did was … chat!”

“I can’t believe it didn’t work,” Sweetie Belle said petulantly, “What’d we do wrong?”

“I don’t know, girls, maybe Big Mac an’ Cheerilee just aren’t meant t’ be t’gether,” Apple Bloom said.

“No way,” Sweetie protested, “They’re perfect for each other; they just don’t know it.”

“If only there were some kind of spell to help them along,” Scootaloo said, “I bet we could get Twilight Sparkle to help out.”

“Not a spell, but a potion, maybe,” Apple Bloom thought aloud.

“You have an idea, Apple Bloom?” Sweetie Belle asked, perking up.

“Come on, girls, we’re going t’ th’ Everfree Forest!” Apple Bloom proclaimed.

***

“Zecora! Zecora, are y’ home?” Apple Bloom called as she rapped on the door of Zecor’s cottage in the forest.

“I don’t think she’s home, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo said as she hovered near a window, Sweetie Belle holding her up.

“Now what?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“We could wait for her t’ return,” Apple Bloom suggested.

“No way,” said Scootaloo, “Who knows when she’ll get back? We have to do this today, while it’s still Saint Lotentius’s Day.”

Scootaloo scrambled up the side of the cottage toward the high window she’d been peeking through. Sweetie Belle figured out what she was doing and gave her a boost. Scootaloo managed to get the window open and crawled through, causing a ruckus as she fell inside. A few seconds later, the door to Zecor’s cottage swung open, a pleased-looking young pegasus standing in the doorway.

Into Zecor’s cottage they went, snooping around the place. Despite breaking in, they hadn’t really considered how they were supposed to learn how to make a potion without Zecor being here. Apple Bloom hopped up on a stool to read a book that’d been left open atop a cabinet. It was one of Zecor’s potion books, and she hesitated for a moment, thinking about what had happened the last time she’d made a potion from one of Zecor’s tomes, but went ahead anyway.

At least this time she’d have a better idea of what she was making, since she could read some of it. The book was still in Cainhiran Zebrikaanian, the language of Zecor’s homeland, the letters flowing together in a continuous script, but there were additions. In the zebra’s lessons with Twilight Sparkle to learn Low Equestrian, she’d practiced by translating some of her books. Pages were inserted here and there with copies of the instructions in Zebrikaanian translated to something Apple Bloom could read.

“I think I’ve got it,” Apple Bloom said as she found a promising recipe, and the others gathered around.

“Love poifon?” Scootaloo asked, reading off the page.

“I think she meant t’ write love potion,” Apple Bloom said, “Zecora’s still learnin’, after all.”

“Let’s see,” Sweetie Belle said, examining the page, “Take a tuft of cloud, a bright glow of rainbow, stir with a pegasus feather, fast, not slow. Clouds and rainbows? What kind of ingredients are those?”

“Magic ingredients,” Apple Bloom said, waggling her hooves mysteriously, “Not really. That must be th’ poetic version o’ it. See ‘ere an’ ‘ere? Diagrams an’ plain instructions. ‘Tuft o’ cloud is … albedo … an’ mineral water mixed t’ a froth. Th’ rainbow refers t’ mixing th’ essence o’ these six ingredients.”

Apple Bloom was feeling quite pleased with herself. She wasn’t quite as nervous now about screwing up a potion again after she’d read and understood the alchemical terms on the page. Maybe she had a future with alchemy, maybe even her cutie-mark … That thought would have to wait until after the Cutie Mark Crusaders accomplished their current quest, though.

“What about the pegasus feather?” Scootaloo asked.

“That really is just a pegasus feather,” Apple Bloom said, “If y’ wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Scootaloo said, her teeth already around one of the feathers in her wing, “Anything for Sister Cheerilee.”

“Let’s get t’ work, girls,” Apple Bloom said, taking the potion book and hopping down from the stool.

It was a little difficult finding the right ingredients, since those that were labeled were written in Zebrikaanian. The diagrams in the book helped for the most part, and those that didn’t were able to be matched up by label. Sweetie Belle worked on mixing up the “cloud” while the other two turned the remaining ingredients into juice. As shown in the book, they mixed them all together over a flame and waited for the mixture to begin bubbling. Apple Bloom mixed the potion with Scootaloo’s feather, her eyes shut against the fumes the potion put off, and when she pulled it out there was nothing left but a charred stub. It had to have worked, though, for the potion changed from a gray-brown sludge into a slightly glowing pink-purple liquid. Bubbles suspended in the potion slowly drifted to the surface.

“Well, did we do it?” Scootaloo asked.

“It looks right,” Apple Bloom said, consulting the potion book.

“Only one way to find out,” Sweetie Belle said, and she poured the potion into a vial and stoppered it up.

***

“Apple Bloom, what’s all this about? Big Mac asked as he followed his little sister through Ponieville, “Shouldn’t y’ be home?”

Big McIntosh paused in front of the Golden Mane when he realized where he was. He eyed Apple Bloom dubiously, but she ignored it and pulled him inside. The eyes of the tavern’s patrons followed him with interest now, especially since Sister Cheerilee had entered a few minutes earlier.

“Big Mac?” the nun asked as she spotted him.

“Sister Cheerilee?”

“Okay, girls, what’s going on?” Sister Cheerilee asked as she turned on Scootaloo.

“You didn’t finish your meal, earlier,” Sweetie Belle said, and the pair of adults looked at her skeptically, knowing very well that they had, “You were supposed to get another drink.”

Sweetie Belle gestured to the table they’d been at before, where two mugs of spiced wine awaited.

“Apple Bloom, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but-” Big Mac said, but stopped when Cheerilee placed a hoof on his side.

“It’s okay, Big Mac,” she assured him, “Let’s have a seat.”

She refrained from speaking again until after the Cutie Mark Crusaders had left, assembling themselves outside the window again. Big Mac started to lift the mug, then set it back down, unsure what was going on.

“I’m terribly sorry about this,” Sister Cheerilee said, “I think I know what’s going on.”

“No need for apologies, Sister; at least I don’t think there is,” Big Mac said, “Truthfully, I have no idea what’s gotten in t’ those fillies’ ‘eads.”

“Earlier today, I was teaching them about Saint Lotentius and her efforts to join those who loved each other. They seemed surprised that I have no special somepony, and I think that they have decided that you ought to be my mate,” Cheerilee explained.

“Me? You?” Big Mac asked with surprise.

“Yes, I’ll have to set them straight, as to why such a thing is impossible,” Cheerilee chuckled, “They have obviously been trying very hard to get us together, though, so we may as well enjoy these drinks and a brief time together.”

“Mm-hmm,” Big McIntosh said as he raised his mug and took a drink at the same time as Cheerilee.

Both of them dropped their mugs, Cheerilee’s tipping over, as the potion the CMC had slipped into the wine took effect. The two locked eyes, staring at each other intently over the table as if seeing each other for the first time. The Cutie Mark Crusaders watched just as intently from outside, waiting to see if their plan would work.

“Big Mac,” Cheerilee whispered, leaning in close, “Would you …”

“Would y’ be m’ special somepony?” Big Mac got the words out first.

“Yes,” Cheerilee answered.

“Yes!” the Cutie Mark Crusaders cheered, congratulating themselves and completely unaware of how shocked and uncomfortable the ponies in the tavern suddenly were.

***

Needless to say, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were pretty pleased with themselves. They’d brought Sister Cheerilee and Big McIntosh together, and nothing could be better from their perspective. The only downside was that they hadn’t gotten their cutie-marks in matchmaking from it, but they all agreed that it might take some time for them to appear—maybe not until the duo they’d brought together was married. They weren’t going to go that far in emulating Saint Lotentius and actually marry Big Mac and Sister Cheerilee, though. That was a job for Ponieville’s priestess.

“Have you heard the news?” a merchant asked a potential customer, who was examining a plow he was trying to sell, “About Sister Cheerilee and Big McIntosh?”

Ponieville was a small town, and rumors about what had transpired in the Golden Mane had already spread through the whole village. The CMC were skipping by through the market when they heard the question posed and paused. They wanted to bask in the knowledge that they’d helped get the two together and what ponies were saying about it.

“Of course,” the customer, a farmer from the surrounding countryside, replied huffily, “Shameful is what it is. Snogging in public with no shame. Nuns abandoning their vows; what kind of times do we live in? They ought to be excommunicated and driven away for such a thing, them and his ‘ole family.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders were shocked. That certainly didn’t sound like well-wishes for the happy couple. And as for driving the Apples away, Apple Bloom suddenly desired to be anywhere else. What was this outrage and talk of vows and excommunication? Surely just these two ponies were sour about something, right?

“Y’know, the Apples are Healds,” another merchant joined the conversation, as he was getting no business at his stand since all his customers were gravitating toward the ongoing discussion, “They used t’ be no better than the hordes up in Stalliongrad today.”

“Barbarians to the marrow,” the farmer huffed as more ponies gathered around, “Of course they wouldn’t stoop to defiling a nun. The sister took her vow of chastity, to never be with a stallion, yet that didn’t stop that ruffian from claiming her!”

“Yeah, he should hang for this!” somepony in the rapidly forming crowd called out.

“The Apples should leave!” said another, and Apple Bloom noticed one of Mayor Mare’s flunkies take special note of that.

Though there were some calling for less severe action, the crowd was becoming more agitated, quickly turning into a mob. The Cutie Mark Crusaders slipped away before anypony with ill intent noticed them.

“What are we going to do?” Sweetie Belle squeaked once they were safely away in an alleyway.

“How were we supposed to know?” Scootaloo protested, “Oh, this is bad!”

“I knew we shouldn’t ‘ave tried t’ make a potion!” Apple Bloom blamed herself, “I should ‘ave learned m’ lesson last time!”

“So, it was you,” someone said from behind them in heavily-accented Low Equestrian.

“Zecora!” all three exclaimed together as they turned to face the zebra looming over them.

In truth, their heights weren’t all that far apart since Zecor was fairly short, but her presence alone certainly made her seem to be looming over them. The beads in her mane rattled together, as if they were moving of their own will, or maybe Zecor was just moving them with her magic. There was fire in her narrowed eyes, but the fillies were still glad to see her.

“Appel’Bloem, what have you done?” Zecor asked brusquely, “I return home to find things moved and ingredients missing. What did you make this time?”

“Well, we … may have made a love potion and used it on ponies we shouldn’t have,” Apple Bloom said shamefully.

“Love potion?” Zecor said, “I have no recipes for love potion.”

Zecor reached into her saddlebags and pulled out her potion books, setting them down on the barrel the CMC had been hiding behind. Apple Bloom flipped through the book she’d used until she found the recipe and pointed it out to Zecor.

“Here, this one,” Apple Bloom said.

“That? That is love poison. Ignorant filly! Why would you create something you know not everything of? See here?” Zecor rebuked her, pointing to an untranslated section of the script, “‘Those who drink this poison will not be to think of anything except each other.’ This poison has brought down towns and nations when leaders could not do their duty.”

“How do we undo it?” Scootaloo asked desperately, “Big Mac and Cheerilee are no rulers, but they can’t go on like this.”

“There is a cure,” Zecor said crossly, “But for it to work, Big’Mac and Cheer’lee must be apart for one of your hours. It must be done today, while it is early still. You have caused this mess; you must find way to stop it.”

“A wedding!” Apple Bloom exclaimed after thinking for a minute.

“Come again?” Sweetie Belle asked in confusion.

“We tell Sister Cheerilee an’ Big Mac they should get married!” Apple Bloom said, “They’re sure t’ go for it, an’ they’ll want t’ do it as soon as possible.”

“And how is that supposed to keep them apart?” Scootaloo asked skeptically.

“They’ll have t’ prepare, an’ we can separate ‘em during that time,” Apple Bloom explained, “Sweetie Belle, you’ll go wi’ Sistah Cheerilee t’ th’ Ponieville convent t’ announce her intention t’ leave. I’ll go wi’ Big Mac t’ th’ Ponieville Chapel t’ arrange things wi’ th’ priestess there.”

“No, Appel’Bloem,” Zecor cut in, “You will come with me to make the cure. Maybe you will know then the serious of alchemy.”

“Okay,” Apple Bloom said, a little intimidated now, “Scootaloo, you go with Big Mac. Both o’ y’ stall as long as y’ can an’ make sure they don’t complete their tasks in time t’ get back t’gether.”

“Got it!” Scootaloo said the same time that Sweetie Belle said, “Alright!”

As they took off to find Big Mac and Cheerilee, Apple Bloom followed the stern-faced Zecor away. Believe me, Zecora, after this, I’ve learned my lesson about alchemy. If you think it’s a good idea, Apple Bloom, just don’t do it!

***

“I must say, I never expected anything like this from you,” Mother Joennia, the abbess of the Ponieville convent said sternly to Sister Cheerilee, “Sister Gretia, perhaps, Sister Lilia, certainly, but never you.”

“I know what I want, Reverend Mother,” Cheerilee said, rocking her stool as she fidgeted uneasily, longing to return to Big McIntosh.

“What you want has no bearing,” Joennia said severely, “You’ve made a vow—many vows, in fact—to be set apart as a servant of Faust. Vows of poverty, humility, … and celibacy.”

“Forget the vows. I renounce them,” Sister Cheerilee said, removing her veil, and Joennia gasped, “I love Big McIntosh and we will be married.”

“Such a thing will never come to pass,” Joennia swore, “You will be confined to your cell until you come to your senses. You will be-”

Joennia’s grand declarations of what would happen to Cheerilee were interrupted by a rapping on the windowsill of her study’s lone window. The mare started to go on, but the rapping continued, and she excused herself to investigate, ordering Sister Cheerilee to stay where she was. Peeking out of the window, she nearly jumped back in alarm as she spotted Sweetie Belle clinging to the ivy beneath the window.

“Foal, what are you doing here?” Joennia asked severely, eyeing the drop that Sweetie would suffer were she to slip.

“Don’t be too hard on Sister Cheerilee,” she whispered up, “She can’t help herself. She’s under a spell.”

“Bewitched, is she?” Joennia said with revulsion.

The Church of One had embraced magic as Faust’s gift to the world, a tool to overcome the other troubles the Conjunction had brought, but nopony liked the thought that they may have their own will taken from them on a sorceress’s whim.

“Who has done such a thing to her?” Joennia asked.

“That’s not important,” Sweetie Belle said guiltily, “She mustn’t be allowed to return to Ponieville and be with Big Mac, though. Do whatever it takes to keep her here.”

Sweetie Belle’s grasp on the ivy slipped as the bell in the convent’s bell tower began to chime out the hour. The elderly Joennia reached out with lightning speed to catch the foal’s cloak in her teeth and haul her up through the window before she could fall. Sweetie breathed a sigh of relief as the chimes came to an end after five. It took nearly a third of an hour to get from here to Ponieville. Even if Cheerilee left at this moment, she would just barely reach Ponieville before the hour was up. Her relief all slipped away, however, when she realized that Cheerilee was gone, having left some time during her conversation with the abbess.

***

“I simply cannot marry you, not on such short notice,” Medolia, Ponieville’s priestess, continued to object as Big McIntosh followed her around the chapel.

“You must. You must,” Big Mac persisted, “Cheerilee and I love each other, and we must be wed!”

“Sister Cheerilee will not be marrying you or anypony else,” Medolia said, giving a sharp glance to the other ponies in the chapel that watched the pair, trying to listen in on their conversation (which wasn’t difficult when Big Mac raised his voice), “Even if she is released from her vows, as you assure me she will be, she must wait a year before marrying. No, I will not perform this ceremony.”

“Then we’ll go t’ another parish t’ be married,” Big Mac said stubbornly, “Reinchad, or Perrin Fields.”

“Do you mean to be married without my blessing, then?” Medolia asked with hooded eyes, “Or do you intend to move to a new parish entirely? Are you willing to give up the freedom granted to your family to become a serf for Count Rhesin or Baroness Sheila? Come to your senses, Big McIntosh. These are not the thoughts of the sensible pony I know.”

“Mother Medolia, can I speak to you?” Scootaloo cut into the conversation.

The priestess had done an admirable job of keeping Big Mac busy, and time was nearly up, but he looked on the verge of storming out if Medolia continued to refuse him. Perhaps if she gave him some time to cool down, then Medolia could keep him here long enough that the hour would be over. If he tried to leave out the front of the chapel, he wouldn’t get very far, not with a crowd starting to form that wanted him punished in some way; that wasn’t a good outcome, of course, so he had to be kept inside.

“Yes, my child,” Medolia said to the pegasus, “Big Mac, I will be back to speak with you in a moment.”

“So, Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and I may have used a love potion that turned to be a love poison to accidentally make Big Mac and Sister Cheerilee fall in love. We’re working on a cure, but they have to be kept apart from each other. While he’s here, he’s safe, but it seemed like you might be about to drive him away,” Scootaloo said bluntly.

“I see,” Medolia said after the initial shock from the deluge wore off, “I would think Apple Bloom had learned her lesson after the last time.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure she has now,” Scootaloo said sheepishly, absentmindedly flapping her wings, “If you could just keep Big Mac here—where is he?!”

Big McIntosh had disappeared while they were talking, and Scootaloo frantically scanned the chapel for any sign of him. Her outburst had attracted the attention of the other ponies in the chapel, and they all pointed toward a side door. Big Mac had escaped. Perfect.

***

Zecor bottled up the foul-smelling brew and dropped it into her saddlebags. With no time to go to her home in the Everfree Forest and return, she and Apple Bloom had made do with the ingredients they could buy around town and equipment assembled in the back of Sugar Cube Corner. Master and Mistress Cake weren’t very happy about them using their bakery to brew the potion, but they were glad when they’d chased Big McIntosh and Cheerilee out. When the mob that’d been forming in the market arrived here to find that their targets had left, they’d passed by without doing any harm to the bakery. There was always the danger that the two lovebirds would return, though, and bring the mob with them, so they didn’t complain too loudly about Zecor and Apple Bloom making a potion to snap them out of it.

Now that the potion was ready, they had to find Big McIntosh and Sister Cheerilee and apply it to them. Technically, they’d only need to find one of them, though that would make things awkward until they could apply it to the other as well, so Zecor and Apple Bloom set out for the Ponieville chapel, where Big Mac was supposed to be if Scootaloo had been successful. They were making their way through the streets of Ponieville when Zecor suddenly stopped.

“Zecora, what’re y’ doin’? We have t’ go!” Apple Bloom said.

“It is sunset, and I must pray, Appel’Bloem,” Zecor said, pointing toward the horizon, “Take the cure and finish things.”

Apple Bloom hesitated for an instant, fearing she’d mess things up again, before taking the cure from Zecor. The bottle clutched in her teeth, she galloped for the Ponieville chapel. Scootaloo was there waiting for her.

“Big Mac is gone!” the pegasus blurted out as soon as Apple Bloom could hear her.

“Gone?” Apple Bloom asked, setting down the cure, “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know!” Scootaloo said frantically, “He could be anywhere!”

“No, he’s prob’ly tryin’ t’ get t’ Cheerilee,” Apple Bloom said, “Follow me!”

Apple Bloom picked the cure back up and took off in the direction that most directly led toward the Ponieville convent. Some of the mob milling around the chapel spotted her and decided that she might know where Big McIntosh was, so they chased after her as well. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had to alter their course to avoid actually leading the angry ponies to Big Mac, ducking around buildings and under carts.

“I’ll lead them away!” Scootaloo yelled ahead to Apple Bloom, “You find Big Mac!”

Her plan worked, when she abruptly stopped following Apple Bloom after they were both out of sight of the mob. They continued to follow Scootaloo, assuming Apple Bloom was still ahead, and went off in an entirely different direction. Apple Bloom pressed on, through Ponieville’s northern gate and across the fields, following tracks in the snow now that looked like Big Mac’s.

She spotted Big McIntosh, and Sister Cheerilee only a second later. Her brother was running up a hill toward her, slipping and falling in the snow as his haste made for clumsiness. Sister Cheerilee was struggling herself to stay upright as she plowed through the snow, Sweetie Belle chasing behind her.

Apple Bloom was running as fast as she could, but she’d never reach them before they met. About where they’d come together was a gnarled old tree, devoid of branches at this time of year. She had a shot at stopping them, but only one shot. If she didn’t take it, they’d be doomed for sure, though. She waited until she was as close as she dared get and took her chance.

The potion left her teeth, sailing through the air. It spun end over end until the bottle struck a branch of the tree, shattering and sending the cure raining down. The potion fell onto Big Mac and Sister Cheerilee just as they were about to meet. Suddenly freed from the effects of the love poison, the two confused ponies slammed into each other and fell to the ground.

“Sister Cheerilee, I’m terribly sorry,” Big McIntosh apologized as he helped her up, “Um, sister, your mane’s uncovered.”

“Oh, so it is. Thank you,” Sister Cheerilee said as Big Mac gave her his cloak to replace her veil temporarily, “Do you have any idea what we’re doing out here?”

“Nope,” Big Mac replied after checking his surroundings.

Apple Bloom collapsed in the snow in relief, panting heavily, and Sweetie Belle joined her, just as tired out. It was over. Well, not really. They still had a lot of explaining to do to a lot of ponies.

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

How many chapters long will this story be? Or did I already ask this?