Fourth Harmony: Induction

by CTVulpin

Chapter 1: Interventions

Time marches on inexorably. Every morning the sun rises on a world that is a little different than it was the previous day, and those small changes add up quickly. Most beings are bound to the flow of time and barely notice those minuscule daily changes as they happen, only noticing the aggregate effects with surprise and in hindsight. Most can change with their world and remain fairly comfortable until their time comes to an end. For a certain few beings, however, the amount of time allotted to them is so great that it feels as if the world is changing without them, or that time takes more than it gives in return. Such feelings can cause the immortal and the long-lived to withdraw into tight-knit groups and shut out the world at large, unless they can find something in the world worth caring for.

Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship among many other things, woke up one morning wondering, as she did with increasing frequency, if she honestly cared enough to face the day. Recognizing the feeling for what it was, she forced herself to get out of bed and walk to the window to survey her little city. For Ponyville was a city now, as the passing of many years and the allure of living under the eye of Equestria’s most accessible Princess had combined to attract enough immigrants to transform what had been a small farming town into a fledgling metropolis that aspired to surpass Canterlot in size.

Most of the buildings had changed or been replaced over the decades, but the most historic landmarks remained virtually untouched. The gazebo-like Town Hall – City Hall now – still stood in the center of Market Square and, despite pressure from the citizenry every election cycle, was still handling the day-to-day civic business without Twilight’s direct involvement. There was Sugar Cube Corner, outwardly unchanged but now more of a headquarters for the growing Cake Confectioneries company than a simple neighborhood bakery. Carousel Boutique stood out like a jewel in the fashion retail district that had grown around it.

Sweet Apple Acres had not endured nearly as well; Twilight could barely even find the measly seven acres and farmhouse that remained of the once vast apple orchards. The farm was essentially an outdoor museum now, although they did still grow the one-of-a-kind Zap Apples.

Off to Twilight’s left stood her School of Friendship, where she officially served as headmare, although her actual responsibilities there were much decreased. The School was world-renowned for its inclusiveness and curriculum, but enrollment was on a gradual decline as other schools operating on similar frameworks popped up across Equestria and the wider world. Even the Equestrian Education Association had bent enough to start trying to attract non-pony students ten years ago. It was a good thing, no doubt, but…

Twilight Sparkle turned away from the window, not feeling much better. Here she was, the Princess responsible for spreading the Magic of Friendship across the lands, and yet she felt that her own circle of friends was tragically tiny now, and all but one of those close friends lived far, far away from Ponyville. The five mares she’d been closest to, those who had borne the Elements of Harmony alongside her, had all been taken by time or tragedy or mysterious circumstance. A large part of their generation seemed to have passed on as well, and even a little of the next, and Twilight couldn’t seem to be able, at this precise moment, to think of any pony living in Ponyville that she felt as close to as she had to…

Spike. Spike was still around. He was not so small anymore and had his own place to live, but he was still as devoted to Twilight as ever. It would probably do her good to drop in on him, and there was always an unspoken invitation for her to join Spike and Sweetie Belle for a meal.

Resolved, Twilight brushed out her mane, put on her simple “casual outing” tiara, and went to leave the room. As she gripped the door handle with her magic, however, she remembered something and went back to her bed. On the nightstand was a metal device shaped like a small pony’s head with a black glass display for eyes resting on a charging station. This was PSC-E-3, or “Pesci,” a highly advanced artificial intelligence that had been gifted to Twilight by her friends from the universe of Taryn. Pesci was yet another reminder of things lost to time, but not as bittersweet a reminder as most.

“Pesci,” Twilight said, giving it a light poke, “wake up.”

Pesci’s display lit up with two yellow lines of LEDs, representing eyes, and it rose from its station to hover in front of Twilight’s face. “Good morning, Princess Twilight,” Pesci said in a tinny, synthetic voice, “would you like to review your schedule for the day?”

“Not quite,” Twilight said. “Cancel whatever I have scheduled for the morning; I’ll be visiting Spike and Sweetie Bell for breakfast.”

“I see,” Pesci said. “You don’t actually have anything scheduled this morning aside from the usual eleven o’clock lesson with the Young Misses, so there won’t be any conflicts.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, mildly surprised. “Good.”

“Although,” Pesci added as Twilight turned to leave, “Given the pattern of the last few mornings...”

Twilight grimaced. “Right,” she said. “Keep an eye on Citrine and Bella, would you?”

Pesci bobbed a nod. “As you will, Princess Twilight.”

---

Spike and Sweetie Belle’s house had been built practically next door to Twilight’s castle, if one counted the undeveloped land separating the castle and School of Friendship from the rest of the city as part of the castle’s property. The house was of mainly stone construction covered in a facade of decorative crystal imported from the Crystal Empire to match Twilight’s castle and had been built to accommodate Spike’s proportions. Through careful hoard management (and maybe a tiny bit of magic), Spike’s “full-grown” size had settled at about one and a half time the size of the average pony when went on all fours, which he was often obliged to do inside most buildings just to avoid concussions and broken chandeliers.

Twilight knocked on the front door and was surprised to have it answered almost immediately by Sweetie Belle. The unicorn mare’s mane had a few gray streaks in it, but otherwise she showed no outward signs of being on the late side of middle age. Her eyes held a mixture of surprise and relief as she wrapped Twilight in a hug and all but pulled her into the house. “You’re here!” Sweetie exclaimed. “Spike!” she shouted toward the kitchen, “Twilight’s here!”

“Good… morning, Sweetie Belle,” Twilight said, taken aback by the enthusiastic greeting. “What’s going on? Is something the matter?”

“Yes something’s the matter,” Sweetie Belle answered, herding Twilight to the dining room. “You haven’t come by for a meal in over a month! Spike was going to stage an intervention this afternoon.”

“An intervention?” Twilight asked, bemused, as she took a seat at the table. “For not coming over to visit? Don’t you think that’s a bit of an overreaction?”

Spike came out of the kitchen with a tray with two bowls of oat porridge and a larger bowl of carbuncles. Giving Sweetie Belle a quick kiss on the head, he set the porridge in front of the ponies and then sat down across from Twilight. “Twilight,” he said matter-of-fact, “you normally come over for a meal every eight days. It’s not so often that you feel like you’re imposing on us, and it’s regular without being as routine as once every week would be.”

“Right,” Twilight said, vaguely recalling having explained that very thing to them at least once before. “I still see you at the library almost everyday anyway, Spike,” she said. “and I have my students and Royal Court, so it’s not like I’ve locked myself away.”

“I’ve only seen you in the library maybe twice in the last month,” Spike countered, “and you haven’t taken out nearly as many books as normal. Some of our patrons are actually concerned by how full the shelves have been lately.”

“You’ve been acting distant at the School, too,” Sweetie Belle added. She reached out and put her hoof over Twilight’s. “It’s not just Spike and me that are worried, Twilight,” Sweetie said. “Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Foxglove, we’ve all noticed that something’s bothering you lately and we can’t figure out what. There aren’t any… You know… Memorials coming up.” She choked slightly, almost imperceptibly, at having to bring up the topic of dead friends and family.

Twilight stared at her oats for a moment, and then sighed and looked up. “I guess I have been out of it lately,” she said. “I don’t know why either, to be honest. If you look at it logically, everything’s perfect. Ponyville’s growing, every creature is happy or at least has perfectly ordinary problems to deal with, the principles of Friendship are spreading far and wide, and there haven’t been any catastrophes or ancient evils to break up the monotony of it all in years!” Twilight froze as she heard the last few words she’d spoken, dropping her eyes with an embarrassed blush. “I mean, nothing to disturb the peace we work so hard to maintain.”

“Hmmmm,” Spike said, rolling a carbuncle slowly in his claws. “You miss the old days,” he said with a wry smirk, “when everypony considered Ponyville one of the hotspots of trouble in Equestria. You want an adventure.”

“No!” Twilight blurted out, then caught herself and looked down again. “Well, yes,” she admitted, “I do miss the thrill a little. But,” she looked up and met Spike’s eyes with a fierce look, “I’d never want Ponyville or anyplace else to be in danger just so I can save the day. I just… Feel like I should be doing more.”

“Oh, Twilight,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Celestia doesn’t get it,” Twilight said, her voice growing a little heated. “I try to talk to her, and she just says I’ll eventually find satisfaction in guiding others, as if I’m supposed to adopt her methods of plotting and pulling strings now instead of the direct, heat-of-the-moment approach she herself guided me to perfect. Luna’s plenty happy creating the night sky and guarding the dreamscape, and Cadance is off having a great time as an ambassador to other lands while Flurry Heart governs the Crystal Empire. What am I supposed to do?” Letting out a frustrated noise, she slammed her head down onto the table, planting her nose squarely in her porridge. Spike and Sweetie Bell instinctively reached out to help, but withdrew when Twilight started munching on the oats.

“So, you’re feeling directionless?” Sweetie Bell asked after a moment.

“Mmph,” Twilight said.

“Ok,” Sweetie said. “Have you tried consulting the Map lately?”

Twilight pulled her face out of her bowl, accepted a napkin from Spike, and cleaned the porridge off her muzzle. “The Map hasn’t issued a Friendship Mission in years, Sweetie,” Twilight said. “Not since… Applejack.”

“I know,” Sweetie replied, “but it still works, doesn’t it? You could wake it up and ask it for... I dunno, advice or something.”

“That’s not how the Map works,” Twilight said. “You don’t ask it to find problems to solve, it just wakes up and alerts whoever’s needed.”

“It can’t hurt to try,” Spike said. “The Map is tied to the Haven of Harmony, and you’re still connected to the Element of Magic. You haven’t done anything with your role as Element Bearer in a long time; maybe that’s what’s making you moody all of a sudden.”

Twilight rubbed her chin in thought. “Well, it’s kind of hard to act as Element Bearer when I’m the only one of the Six left,” she said. “Still, you have a point: it won’t hurt to try. I’ll try and coax something out of the Map after br-”

Twilight was interrupted by a loud, insistent tapping at the window behind Spike. The dragon turned his head to see what was causing the noise, made an intrigued face, and stood up to open the window and let Pesci float in. “What are you doing here?” Spike asked the head-shaped computer. “You don’t like going out in public.”

“I have no feelings about being out in public,” PSC-E-3 replied flatly. “Ponies are unnerved by my appearance, and I dislike causing those emotions. Princess Twilight, I’m afraid the Young Misses have had yet another fight. Miss Citrine fled the premises, while Miss Bellatrix may have barricaded their room.”

“Ugh, great,” Twilight deadpanned, face-planting into her porridge again.

“Fighting?” Sweetie asked as Twilight extracted herself and accepted a fresh napkin from Spike.

“This is the fourth morning in a row,” Twilight said as she wiped her face clean. “The girls have been at each other’s throats over all sorts of things lately. I don’t know what...” She paused, and grimaced. “Maybe it’s a reaction to my mood,” she said. Her head twitched and Sweetie Bell quickly whisked the bowl of porridge out of the way, but Twilight just shook her head and got up. “I have to go talk to them,” she said.

“No,” Spike said, standing up as well, “you should go consult the Map and get yourself straightened out before you try dealing with anything else. Sweetie Bell and I will talk to the girls.”

“I can’t ask you to-” Twilight started to protest, only for Sweetie to stand up and put a hoof over Twilight’s mouth.

“Citrine’s our niece, Twilight,” Sweetie said, “and we practically raised her. Besides, I think I know exactly where she’s run off to. As for Bella… Spike’s right: you need to sort out your own problems first.”

Twilight sighed, and then gave the two a small smile. “Thank you both,” she said.

---

The doors to the Map Room creaked slightly as they opened to admit Twilight, and then again as she closed them behind herself. A wave of lingering sadness welled up as she looked at the round table and the seven thrones surrounding it, five of them belonging to ponies long since dead and one now far too small for its intended occupant. After a moment, Twilight steeled herself and approached the table, horn igniting as she tapped into the complex web of magic that tied the Map to the distant nexus of the Haven of Harmony. “All right,” she began with a sigh, then froze when the Map activated.

Rather than the normal expansive view of Equestria and the neighboring lands, the Map only showed Ponyville and the Everfree Forest, including a model of the giant crystal tree-house that was the Haven of Harmony. As Twilight took a few, slow steps closer to the map, she felt a nearly-forgotten but still familiar tingle on her flank, and an image of her cutie mark appeared on the Map, floating above the Haven. “I...” Twilight said. “I’m not sure I understand. What could be at the Haven that you can’t tell me about here?”

The Map, naturally, did not respond to the question.

Twilight shook her head, chiding herself. “Silly pony, when have we ever known what we had to do before we went to the mission location?” She turned away from the Map and headed for the door. Before opening it, though, she looked back and added an unnecessary, “I’ll be there soon.”

---

“Hey, Bella,” Spike called as he knocked on the door of the room shared by Twilight’s two students, “are you ok in there?” He heard no response from within, even after pressing his ear against the door, so he turned the handle and said, “I’m coming in.” He gave the door a push, and was surprised when it actually opened slightly without encountering any sort of resistance. “I thought Pesci said she’d barricaded herself in,” the dragon mused.

“I said she may have done so,” a tinny voice said from behind Spike’s head, startling him. As Spike whirled to glare at the floating computer, it continued dispassionately, “My lack of a reliable method of operating doorknobs means I can only guess about such things.”

“What are you doing here?” Spike asked.

“Princess Twilight does not require my assistance at present,” Pesci said, “but will eventually desire to know the states of the Young Misses, and since Miss Bellatrix is still in the castle-”

“Ok, ok, I get it,” Spike said, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the door. He pushed it open far enough to poke his head inside and looked around. Books, loose papers, the sheets from both beds, personal grooming items, and assorted other things were scattered everywhere on the floor, but there was no sign of anypony about. “She’s not here?” Spike wondered aloud.

Pesci slipped into the room over Spike’s head, moved to the center, and spun slowly in place, it’s LED eyes resembling a pair of hourglasses as it did so. “Confirmed,” it reported after completing its spin and facing Spike, “there are no life signs present, nor any suspicious pony-sized meat sacks.”

Spike felt his lip curl as the implications hit him. “Seriously?” he asked in disgust, pulling back out into the hall. “This is exactly why most ponies can’t stand being around you.”

Pesci’s eyes blinked into question marks, and it bobbed side-to-side for a second as it processed Spike’s statement. “A query, Spike” it said, floating out into the hall, and then trilled in alarm when it saw the dragon was already several yards away. “Please wait, Spike!” Pesci exclaimed, zooming to catch up. “I require additional input from you if I am to successfully update my user-interaction guidelines so as not to repeat whatever faux-pas I committed!”

Spike sighed and waited for the computer to catch up. “Ok,” he said, “first of all, you talk too much.” Pesci bobbed a nod and waited with infinite, silent patience as Spike continued outlining his griefs.

---

Twilight Sparkle put on her “business face” and took up a brisk pace as she walked through Ponyville’s streets, a combination of outward signs that would tell the ponies she passed that she had no time for interruptions but wasn’t on her way toward anything they needed to be worried about. Ponyville’s citizens quickly cleared out of her path when they saw her approaching, but they did so simply out of respect and with no more than brief second glances as she went by. Twilight paid little mind to the polished dance of politeness, her thoughts fixed squarely on the question of what could be waiting for her at the Haven of Harmony.

Twilight’s focus was shaken when she passed by Sugar Cube Corner and saw an unexpected, familiar-looking pony get up from one of the outdoor tables and approach. Even after over a half-dozen years, it still took Twilight a second to recognize the pony not as The Great and Powerful Trixie, but as Trixie’s granddaughter, Bellatrix Lulamoon. Bella was the spitting image of Trixie in her youth, aside from Bella’s eyes being magenta rather than dark purple and her cutie mark, which was a magician’s top hat resting on its side as two stars shot out of it. Bella typically did her mane up in complex braids, but this morning she had just done a simple, loose braid.

Bella approached Twilight with an apologetic look on her face and the end of a croissant gripped in the glow of her telekinesis. “Morning, Princess,” she said.

“What are you doing here?” Twilight blurted. “Pesci said you’d locked yourself in your room after Citrine ran out.”

Bella winced, averting her eyes. “So, Pesci did see that,” she muttered, and then looked back up. “I did shut myself away at first,” she said, “but only for a couple minutes before I decided to go for a walk instead. I didn’t mean to make you come looking for me. I’m sorry.”

Twilight shook her head. “I wasn’t looking for you,” she said. “I was… just taking a walk too. You and Citrine have been getting into arguments so much lately-”

Bella grit her teeth. “Yeah,” she said, “and I think it’s my fault today. I just...” She waved a hoof limply as she searched for the words.

Twilight’s gaze drifted from the downcast unicorn toward the Everfree Forest. The Map hadn’t indicated for anypony besides Twilight to go to the Haven, but Friendship Problems rarely went as expected and never involved just the ponies summoned to handle them. Besides, Bella was Twilight’s student. Bella’s talent for magic went far beyond the illusions and performance spells the Lulamoons specialized in, and she hadn’t fit in well at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, so Trixie had entrusted her granddaughter’s training to Twilight. Twilight had a responsibility to guide Bella’s development, and there was no time like the present to work on one’s issues.

“I’m going out to the Haven of Harmony,” Twilight told Bella, smiling gently. “Why don’t you come with me? Maybe we can get to the root of why we’re all on edge lately.”

Bella looked surprised that Twilight had grouped herself in with her two students, but she nodded. “Just you and me?” she asked. Twilight nodded. “All right,” Bella said, waiting for Twilight to take the lead, “I think I’d like that.”

---

In the upstairs workroom of the Carousel Boutique, Foxglove knelt at the feet of a pegasus dress-form, nimble claws hard at work adjusting a hem for the umpteenth time. The daughter of Spike and Sweetie Bell, Foxglove was perhaps the most unique creature in the entire world, setting aside certain immortal spirits. Tall and spindly, her head, neck, and limbs were – save for tufts of fur on her cheeks – covered in pale lavender scales while the rest of her sported fur of the same color, and her eyes were orange with slit pupils. Her equine silhouette was broken by two small, back-swept horns and a row of green spines like her father’s on her head instead of a mane, a draconic tail that didn’t quite reach the floor when she was standing straight, and dexterous claws in place of hooves on her front legs. Any doubts as to her pony heritage would be quickly silenced by the presence of a cutie mark on her flanks: four emerald-cut rubies arranged in a diamond formation. Many would confuse Foxglove for a Kirin on first glance, but after much research and debate by the experts it was decided that Foxglove was indeed the first of her own unique breed: the Dracony.

Foxglove looked up at the sound of her workroom door flying open. She took one look at the orange unicorn mare with the short, purple mane that was walking in and then bent back to her work as she said, “Cushion’s still where you left it, Citrine.” Citrine stalked across the room to a pony-sized cushion and threw herself onto it face-first. Then she screamed into it. Foxglove tugged her stitching tight and pulled back slightly to check her work, blithely ignoring the dramatics until they faded into silence. “You know, you really should be more gentle with my doors,” Foxglove said.

Citrine muttered into the cushion, and Foxglove’s long-practiced ears translated the sounds into, “Technically, it’s my house too.”

“All the more reason to avoid damaging the walls,” Foxglove retorted gently. “And you haven’t spent more than a couple nights here in a row since you started studying under Princess Twilight.” She tied off the thread, snipped the excess off with an expert twitch of a claw, and started gathering her sewing kit back together. When she finished that, she looked over to see Citrine had pulled her face out of the cushion and was now sitting on it properly. “So,” Foxglove said, “is it Bella again, or…?”

Citrine groaned and flopped onto her back. “How do you do it, Foxglove?” she asked. “How do you manage to always be so understanding when I’m having a temper?”

“We grew up together, cousin,” Foxglove replied simply.

“Yeah,” Citrine said, “but family doesn’t always get along. Bella’s mood seems to go right into the garbage every time she gets a letter from anypony in her clan other than her grandma or father.”

“Well,” Foxglove said, walking over to give Citrine a light hug, “I don’t know the Lulamoons enough to say anything about that. I do know you, though, Citrine, well enough to know that getting annoyed at your temper won’t help you.” She released Citrine and stepped back, looking serious even as the unicorn flopped onto her back again comically. “Dodging the question of what’s set you off this time also won’t help,” Foxglove said. “Tell me what happened, Citrine. You know your secrets are safe with me.”

“Something you’d find really stupid, I’m sure,” Citrine groused, sitting up and levitating a comb over from the little table by the fitting mirror. She ran the comb through her mane as she explained, “Bella misplaced her hair ties and started going through everything looking for them. I warned her not to mess up my bed, she accused me of stealing her ties, and things… escalated.”

Foxglove frowned. “Escalated how far?” she asked.

Citrine’s comb froze and quivered as the unicorn’s vivid green eyes hardened. “She… mocked Father’s legacy,” Citrine growled. “Said that Meis Thamule is some nonsense words that I just throw around to sound impressive.”

Foxglove sat back on her haunches. “I see,” she said. “You know, she’s not completely wrong. You have been throwing around Ashen Blaze’s title a lot recently, even though it’s not that widely known outside our family.”

“Bella should know what it means though,” Citrine countered. “Her grandma is the Great and Powerful Trixie, and she worked with the Order-naries a bunch of times.”

“That’s true,” Foxglove said, “but that doesn’t mean Trixie knew or understood what Meis Thamule means, or that she’d pass that knowledge on to her family. Have you ever asked Bella if she knows what you’re talking about when you refer to Meis Thamule?”

Citrine opened her mouth to retort, then hung her head. “No,” she admitted.

“And has it ever come up during your lessons?”

“No,” Citrine said. “I just assumed...”

Foxglove sighed and reached out to stroke Citrine’s mane. “Do I even need to say it, cousin?” she asked with a gentle smirk.

“Never assume what you can verify,” Citrine grumbled.

“And try to have an actual conversation with Bella some time,” Foxglove added. “Really, Citrine, there’s no rule saying you can’t be friends with ponies younger than you. Now,” she said as she stood up, “have you had breakfast yet?” Citrine shook her head. “Then help yourself to the pantry before you leave,” Foxglove advised. “Hunger only ever clouds the mind.”

---

“I don’t understand Citrine,” Bella declared.

Twilight wiped a knowing smile off her face before turning her head to look back at Bella. It had taken most of the walk through the Everfree, and a lot patience as Bella vented her frustration from the morning’s fight, but it seemed to Twilight that the young unicorn had finally come around to the heart of the matter. “What about her don’t you understand?” Twilight asked.

Bella ducked under a low branch as she considered her answer. “She’s something like twice my age, right?” she said at last. “But from the way she acts, you would think I’m the older one between us. She can be such a brat about the dumbest things.”

“Ah,” Twilight said, her ears folding back, “that’s… Well, you know who parents were, right?”

“Rarity, the Element of Generosity,” Bella answered easily, “and Ashen Blaze, Meis Thamule, whatever that means.” She snorted. “Citrine certainly makes a big deal out of it, but I’ve never found an explanation for the title in any history or peerage books.”

“You wouldn’t,” Twilight said, the words feeling heavy on her tongue. “Meis Thamule is not a title from Equestria, nor of any country in this world. It is… was uniquely Ashen Blaze’s.”

“What does it mean, though?” Bella asked.

“That depends,” Twilight said. “To Ash, it was a relic of his past that he couldn’t let go of despite how much of a burden it felt like. To Citrine, though, it’s probably the closest thing she has left to her father.”

Bella grunted as she leaped over a fallen log that Twilight had just absentmindedly flown over. “So, is that why Citrine doesn’t act her age?” she asked. “Because she lost both her parents when she was young?”

A lump formed in Twilight’s throat, and she swallowed hard to banish it. “Maybe in part,” Twilight said, “but mostly… I think it’s because she’s always developed much slower than normal ponies. Ashen Blaze came from another universe, and we suspect that something about that – his alien nature or the time disparity that exists between different realities or some other unknown variable – has had an effect on Citrine’s growth. However old she may seem to be on paper, she’s probably only three-fifths that old mentally and emotionally, at best. You might actually be more mature than her, by a small margin.”

Bella paused mid-step, and then sped up to walk right beside Twilight. “No offense, Princess,” she said, “but that doesn’t make any sense.”

Twilight gave her student a coy, sideways smile. “Trust me,” she said, “sense tends to go right out the window when you’re working with multiple universes. Be glad that I’m never planning to ask that of you. Equestria still has plenty of mysteries to engage and confuse a bright mind like yours.” She returned her gaze to the path ahead and saw the distinct shine of the Haven of Harmony’s crystal structure in the distance. “Ah good, we’re almost there.”

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

If the main OCs in this series were voiced, what would they sound like?