• Published 26th Jan 2017
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Princess Autumn - stillinbeta



A pony goes a long way to be able to see themselves in the mirror

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Chapter 2

My mom knocked loudly on the door of my room, breaking my concentration and causing me to drop my book and my quill directly on my inkwell, throwing a dark stain over my notebook. I yelled and tossed the precious tome across the room, getting it out of the path of the slowly encroaching ink.

“Argent, are you okay in there?”

“Just fine, Mom! Uh, Can you grab me a towel?”

I heard her sigh, then she opened the door and walked in. As soon as she saw the dripping black ink, her horn flared, and it reversed course, seeping back into the formerly upturned inkwell.

“For someone with a quill on his flank, you sure seem to be clumsy with one,” she chided.

“It’s not my fault! You distracted me!”

She rolled her eyes lovingly, like only a mother could.

“What are you working on up here, anyway? You’ve been camped out up here for weeks. I barely see you, except when you go to work.” She glared at me dangerously. “You are still going to work, right?”

“Yes, Mom, I’m still going to work. My job is very important to me.”

How else am I going to get access to all these forbidden textbooks? Not to mention what would happen if they got someone else to inventory the collection and discovered how many books were missing...

Including Twilight Sparkle’s treatise, lying cover-up on the bed. I quickly magicked it under my pillow, hoping she wouldn’t notice the brief flare of my horn.

“It’s a personal project, Mom. Just... curious about something.”

“I wish you’d been this ‘curious’ while you were in university, Argent. Maybe you could’ve gotten better marks, gone to grad school...”

I sighed, and shrugged helplessly. Not this again.

“Anyway, dinner is ready. Your father finally has a night off, and I thought it’d be nice to eat as a family for once.”

“Actually, Mom, I’ve got a lot of work to do up here and...”

I was cut off by a Look from her that very clearly communicated that it had not been a request.

“I’ll be right down.”

---

Dad was already sitting at our dining table as my mother and I made our way downstairs. There was a lasagna steaming on the table in front of him, and I was almost glad my mom had dragged me downstairs. Between Dad being in the lunar guard and Mom staying up late grading papers, dinner was usually a salad or a sandwich.

“Nice of you to join us, Argent.”

“It’s good to see you too, Dad.”

A flash of my mom’s horn pulled chairs out of the table for me and herself. As we sat, my father picked up a spatula and started to divvy out the lasagna.

I held my plate out for him, and was rewarded with a giant pile of pasta. I waited politely for him to serve my mother and myself, then picked up a fork and dug in.

“So, Argent, what are you working on up there?” my mother asked, in between bites.

I covered my mouth with a hoof, chewing and swallowing. Partially not to be rude, and partially to give myself time to come up with a decent excuse. Somehow I didn’t think “I’m trying to ascend to alicornhood so I can be a filly” would go over too well.

“I’m working on a... side project. A history of uh... unicorn cooking.”

I always was a terrible liar.

“Oh really? Does that mean you’ll be helping me out in the kitchen now?” my mom asked politely. Her face also said “I am not buying that one bit.”

“Uh, probably not, Mom. It’s a very academic thing. Lots of dusty old books and Old Equish. You probably couldn’t even read the recipes! Heh.” I chuckled nervously.

My father shrugged, and my mother gave me another look but eventually turned back to his lasagna.

“How’s work, Dad?” I said, eager to change the subject.

“Can’t complain. Well, except about the hours. Ponies aren’t meant to be nocturnal.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Oh, Her Majesty aside, of course,” he quickly added.

Princess Luna was, technically, both of our bosses. She was in charge of the night guard, of course, but for bureaucratic reasons I didn’t understand, the Royal Archives also fell under her purview. I’d even met her once, when she had stopped by to borrow a book from our dusty restricted section. I’d worked up the courage to compliment her on the book of hers I’d read, and she’d given me a knowing smile.

“Careful dad, a slip up like that at work and you’ll be replaced by a bat!”

Now it was his turn to quickly change the subject. He coughed politely.

“Your mane is getting awful long, Argent. Probably time for a trim.”

“Oh, is it?”

I knew, of course, exactly how long my mane was. It was one of the few things about my body that I could actually do what I wanted. The long scarlet mane was one of the few things I didn’t resent seeing in the mirror.

“You’re starting to look like a filly, Argent. It’s embarrassing!”

Would that be such a bad thing?” I thought to myself.

I looked up, and both my parents were staring at me.

“What did you just say?” My father narrowed his eyes.

Guess I said that out loud. Oops.

“Would it though?” I continued, in spite of my face burning. If it was already out there, I might as well finish it. “What if I hated being a stallion? Did you ever think about that, Dad?”

Now Dad was red in the face. I turned away.

“ARGENT SWORD, You will look at me when I speak!” he shouted. “It was bad enough that I’m never going to see you in armour. It’s bad enough that there’s a quill on your side instead of a sword, but this!”

He’d crossed a line. Nobody, ever, ever insulted a pony’s cutie mark. It was the soul of our beings, a sacred and personal thing. I looked over at my mother, hoping for at least some sympathy, but I just got another Mom Look. This one said “I’m disappointed in you.”

I pushed my chair out, tears stinging my eyes, and galloped back up the stairs to my room. I slammed the door so hard a photo of the three of us fell off my wall. If I had been calmer maybe I would’ve laughed at the symbolism, but instead I grabbed Twilight Sparkle’s book and flipped to the end.

A unicorn learns many lessons in their life, but the first and most import lesson is “Spellcasting is very dangerous, and should be done with the utmost care.” A good corollary is “Never cast a spell when you’re upset.” “Especially not one of the most complicated spells in existence, you idiot,” they might add if they could see me now.

I was, rightly, weeks or months away from trying to cast Princess Twilight’s spell. It was incredibly complicated, required immense amounts of power, and frankly should be well-beyond a mid-grade unicorn like myself. There were a hundred steps I should have practised individually, a thousand things that could go wrong.

I knew all this, but in my rage and self-loathing I swept it from my mind. I looked at my notes, I looked at the book, and I began to cast what was quite possibly the last spell I ever would.

--

I was ten minutes into the spell when I heard a gentle knock at my door, and my mom called my name. My concentration faltered, and despite my best efforts I felt myself losing control.

“MOM, GET OUT –”

There was a bright flash of light, brighter almost than Celestia’s sun, and then everything went black as Luna’s night.