9 - Friendship is Magic
"Little Hop." Cheerilee had called her just as the class was being let out, forestalling her escape. "Can we talk?"
Little looked to Apple Bloom, who pointed to Cheerilee. "Go on, she's a nice mare. You know how to get back?"
"Yes." Little bounded in one arc, landing on Cheerilee's desk. "Hello."
The teacher squeaked, not expecting a student to rush up to her in quite that fashion. "Oh, yes. You're a little... different than my usual student, and I wanted to check in with you. Your seat looks uncomfortable from here, but I'm not you."
"You not tsuki," agreed Little easily. "You are a silly pony." She was smiling, amused at the idea of Cheerilee thinking she was a tsuki. "The seat is small." She hop-walked back to the desk she had started from and waved at it as she circled it.
"You're quite large, for a foal," noted Cheerilee. "But, I want you to be comfortable. Getting a larger desk isn't something we can do right away."
She grabbed the paper she had been doodling on and sat down on the ground, slapping the paper down in front of herself and resuming her writing. Cheerille watched with a tilted head. "Are you comfortable?"
"Better. I will bring a writing rock next time." She bobbed her head quickly. "A good flat rock. Makes it better." She bounced up. "Thank you. Good pony." She lunged forward, grabbing up her teacher in a happy hug.
Cheerilee laughed awkwardly in the embrace. "I'm glad you're learning. You're an attentive student." Little hadn't been distracted by anything that she had seen. "How long are you staying with us?"
Little released the mare and blinked at her with confusion that only grew deeper with thought. How long was she staying there. Would she return to the north? What was she returning to? Did she have a proper home? Little sank to her belly, lower lip trembling as uncertainty filled her form.
Then she was hugged. Cheerilee put an arm around her, hoof pressing into Little Hop's side as she was drawn in. "I'm sorry, that was a bad question. Forget it. You are welcome here for as long as you want."
Little's gloom was banished, the pony's hug like a hot needle to that bubble of doubt. She smiled brightly and climbed to her paws as quickly as the hug was released. "I will come back. All done?"
"All done, for today." Cheerilee pointed to the exit of the school. "Come on back tomorrow and we'll learn new things. Ask Applejack if she can get you a notebook and some pencils."
"Yes!" was her enthusiastic, if simple, reply, already bounding off towards the Apple's farm at full speed.
Celine glanced to the left as a small form thumped to the ground, landing. "Why you here?" She glared at the little kit. "Too far."
"Is my job," countered the kit with a proud and smug look on his face. He pointed at Celine. "Like is yours. I write letters. You fight."
"You talk," she huffed. "What want?"
The kit low-hopped forward, ascending the roof they were on to approach Celine. "Ponies want you to stay."
"Not stay," she grunted with finality.
"Be good," he chastised despite her being more than capable of breaking him in half. "They want to celebrate a good tsuki." He pointed at her. "Good tsuki. Let them be happy, then go home."
A low growl bubbled from deep inside her. "Need tell others," she argued, scowling at the kit that knew not to fear her.
"Tell me. I will write a letter and they will get it." He reached back and pulled out a pad and a quill, slapping both on the rooftop as his tail wagged, ready to write. "Tell."
She swatted at him, but he was still a tsuki, bouncing away and landing further away, but still holding his tools. "Stupid kit." Celine turned in place to face the new direction of the kit as another form dropped beside her, one of her battle sisters. "News?"
"Ponies happy." She looked curiously to the little scribe. "Big party. Want us, there." She pointed down to the road far below. "We eat?"
Celine turned her head towards her sister, surprise clear on her face. She was being betrayed by a dear battle sister?! "What happy for? We not win. They get away. We get nothing but hurt!" she shouted angrily. "Why party?"
The doe looked far less certain than when she began. "Because... we fight, friends. Make it. Show..."
The little kit came back closer in little hops. "They want to look at the bright side," he offered more eloquently. "Celebrate the good parts. You're here, so they can try again. They're here, so they can try again too. Better than the other way around."
Celine thumped to the ground, sinking. "Better than other..." She pointed at the kit. "Use big words. Think so smart..." She glanced at her cowed sister. "Want go?"
"Please?" She smiled hopefully. "We fight... deserve food."
"We eat, then home," allowed Celine with a heaving sigh. Just as the kit made a cautious hop, she lunged, grabbing him right out of the air and driving him to the rooftop, pinned under her large paws. "No move! Stay, write. Letter."
"Yes'm!" he quickly assured, wriggling to get his paper and quill ready, even if he was still being held firmly by her. "Ready!"
Luna looked left and right slowly over the band of ponies before her. "You're who she sent?"
One of them, an earth pony mare, saluted sharply. "We are the most qualified for the task, Your Highness. We will not disappoint."
A unicorn raised a hoof. "I've perfected a spell to keep an entire brigade regulated. This will be an exciting time to put it to practical use."
Luna frowned at him. "Regulate what, exactly?"
"Temperature." He nodded as if it was obvious. "We will be in a place where temperature regulation is vital. The spell should move heat from where it is uncomfortably high to where it is most needed. The harder we march, the more heat it will have to work with, preventing hypothermia and reducing fatigue simultaneously, even within a specific pony, adjusting from core to limbs and reversing as the moment demands."
Other ponies murmured, some curious, others debating the practicality of the spell. Luna cleared her throat for attention. "Very good. You are a wizard then?" The word wizard meant a specific thing to ponies. Any unicorn could, and likely did, cast a few spells. Most were not wizards. Wizards made spellcraft their specialty and often reached beyond what came naturally to them. "Protect him." She pointed at the stallion. "The enemy has wizards as well, I am told, though how they manage it remains a mystery."
A train rolled up behind and to the side, filling the station with the squeal of breaks and hiss of steam. Ponies began to disembark. Luna's voice raised to be heard, "This is our ride. Let the civilians disembark first, then board in an orderly manner. The train will not be pausing at any other stations."
The ponies emerging wove around the gathered guardponies. Some noticed Luna sitting there and peered curiously, but most kept moving rather than stare.
At least most. One mare was peering right at Luna with unblinking eyes. "Woah," she finally got out. "You're, like, my favorite princess." Despite her excitement, her tone was flat and low. "We are tied together, moon sister," she continued, not as flat as the legendary Maud, but not rising despite her obvious excitement.
Luna hiked a brow at the curious unicorn mare of blue-grey pelt and dark blue mane. "I'm sorry, you have us at a disadvantage, and we are on a mission." Then it clicked. "Moonlight Raven."
A faint smile spread on Moonlight's face. "You know me."
"I do, I visited your dreams before." Luna inclined her head. "You were just as taken with me then, if I recall properly."
"Woah, that wasn't just a dream?" Moonlight raised a hoof to her chin. "Far out," she breathed. "Can I come with you? We have so much to talk about."
Luna peeked at the mare's cutie mark, a dark heart with curves pointing towards it. "I travel only with trained operatives this time, Moonlight. I do not want you being hurt. This is a military excursion."
"Woah..." Moonlight seemed to consider silently a moment. "I'll burn a candle for you. Be safe."
She left them then, the gothic mare seemingly pleased to have run into Luna. "Call me when you get back," she bade on her way off the platform.
"As we were." Luna's horn glowed as a floating arrow appeared, pointing onto the train. "Let us disembark. The sooner we are all aboard, the sooner we can get to work." With a chorus of approval, she advanced on the train with her squad. Next stop, the Crystal Empire.
Sunshine Smiles hugged her friend tight. "You are not going to let her get away!" she cried, pointing at the train that hadn't left yet. "This is your chance to do something important next to Princess Luna, and she knows you? I'm totally jealous." She danced in place. "You have to go!"
"She said I shouldn't," noted Moonlight plainly.
"Of course she'd say that. She has to, and I bet it's a test anyway." Sunshine leaned in, thunking her head against Moonlight's. "Pass the test!"
"Woah... Do you think?" When Sunshine bobbed her head with a nervous grin, Moonlight Raven turned to the train she had just stepped off of. "Burn two candles, for both of us." And off she galloped to make a date with destiny.
"Missive." Quick Stroke held a closed envelope in his magic, the flap sealed with a Crystal Empire symbol. "From our hostage."
Sombra hummed as the glow around it shifted, passed from one grip to the other. He brought it close and broke the wax. "Let's see what he's found out for us." He unfolded the letter twice and began reading, eyes sweeping. "Celine is returning to us after a celebratory bit of nonsense." He rolled his eyes. "Good of her to realize we have to maintain appearances."
"Of course, Sir." Quick inclined his head, though his eyes were on the letter, reading it as well. "It seems the hostage has including a message of their own."
"Hm?" Sombra inclined his head as Quick had, allowing him to more easily see some writing done to the side of the main body. "Ha, our hostage is clever." He pointed to the words where the kit had claimed credit for Celine staying. "See that he is rewarded, if he returns."
"It is bothersome, sir, that we did not secure a victory."
Sombra waved that off. "Reinforcements are already on the way. The fact that the battle was cut short is to our advantage. I would have called off the entire thing had I known earlier, but it seems fate is on our side for a change." He swatted his advisor on the back with a hoof. "They will be rested and ready to be joined by a force of Equestrians. Our enemies will fall before our combined might."
"Friendship surely is a fearsome weapon," allowed Quick Stroke. "Speaking of which, where is our ambassador to the Canterlot princesses?" He glanced about, but Toby was not in sight. "Not that we have immediate need of his services."
Sombra grunted nom-commitedly, but a smile was forming. "You continue to underestimate the power of my people."
"Sir?"
"It is not by accident that I found them." He brought up his fore hooves to press together. "They have a delightful determination that is impossible to quell. You lit a fire in him, and he works feverishly to prove you wrong, to see you thrown aside and himself made the stronger."
Quick frowned at that. "Are we speaking of the same tsuki, my liege? Toby? The only thing that has fear of him is his lunch."
Sombra laughed, an echoing thing, bouncing off the hard rock of their home. "And this is why you will not see it coming, even with my warning. I look forward to seeing it." He turned to Quick, thumping him on the chest. "He is a kind creature. He will let you serve me even as he aims to prove he is better than you."
"Inconceivable." He vanished into the darkness without further word.
Sombra chuckled darkly to himself. "This should prove entertaining."
Elsewhere, Toby was garbed for battle. Heavy armor adorned his front and back. Unlike the ceremonial set he had worn before, it was sculpted to his body, made for movement as much as protection. A helmet sat nearby, but he hadn't put it on. His sword had been returned, resting across his back, one hand reaching up to grab it, clad in a thick glove.
"Show," ordered the smith, pointing to a series of wooden practice dummies. "Bad birds. What do?"
"Hit hard." Toby leaped, denying gravity in an instant, the sword coming free along with the motion. When he touched the ground, he was hitting it at the same instant that the head of the first doll was landing, driven there by a brutal swing on the way down. "Hit fast." He threw the sword, impaling the chest of the next.
He was on it in a flash, wrenching it free of the wood. "Not be hit." He ducked and bobbed despite no blows incoming, showing that he could. "Win." He swept low and hard, knocking one dummy off its base, its supporting column severed entirely and allowed to fall with a clatter of wood against stone. "How fight."
"How fight," echoed the smith with a smile. "Good. Do more." He stepped up to Toby, slapping him on both of his shoulders. "Do more." They hugged, a warm exchange before he bounced back and kept bouncing, twisting in the air to face where he was going, back towards the smithies he called home and work.
"Thank you," echoed Toby's call to his friend, even if the smith was rapidly lost to sight. "Do more." He swung the sword down in an arc, practicing his pacing and the feel of the metal as he swung it. He was a warrior, like Celene.
Like Celene? He considered that a moment as he practiced his swings into the air over and over. Was that what Celene felt when she was working? Maybe he understood her a little better. "Not need be mean," he grumbled. He would still smile, even if he was a warrior too!
He brought down the sword only to come up short, coming within inches of a pony that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Careful," he advised Quick Stroke, inclining his head at the dour unicorn. "Not want hurt."
"Don't you?" He inclined his head in the other direction. "Your partner ripped a piece free from me."
"Sorry." Toby turned away and resumed his swings. "Do more."
"Do more!" Quick's eyes flared with angry purples and greens. "How dare you!"
Toby kept right on swinging without looking to see that display. "Not you. Me. Me do more. Fight... Keep safe."
"What do you know of that?" He flowed around Toby as if made of angry smoke until he became solid, interrupting Toby's practice with his presence.
Toby huffed with growing impatience. "Not first time." He turned away, seeking peace that wasn't coming. "Fight. Fight better."
"You fought me," reminded Quick. "You impressed Lord Sombra." He ran his tongue over his teeth. "And you're aiming to do it again. Little fuzzball, what do you know of the darkness of a proper fight?"
"Protect." He swung through the air. "Keep safe. Fight... for other, not me." He brought his sword too far down and it bit into the stone, chips flying with a bright spark of the impact, Toby breathing audibly from the efforts of his practice. He hopped up on the two feet he was standing on, landing facing Quick. "What you fight for?"
"What do I fight for?" Quick swelled in place, his form wreathed in boiling shadows of dark magic. "What do I--" He trailed off, watching Toby swing and swing as if he wasn't being shouted at. "Are you too simple to know when you are being lectured?"
"Be quiet." Toby brought down his blade into the center of a dummy, cleaving into it with the loud thunk of abused wood. "Work harder, do more. I protect. What you do? For who?"
"For Sombra!" he boomed, veins bulging at the top of his face. "What sort of inane question is that!?"
"How talk to me help?" questioned Toby, focused on his practice and barely taking the time to get out the few words of reply. "Do more." That time it seemed clear, he was pointing that at Quick, not himself.
Dark magic swirled around his horn, considering how best to crush the fuzzy insect that was half-ignoring him. "I am at his side, ever loyal. What more is there?"
"All can think?" asked Toby as he cut off one of the halves of the stick of wood, sending that half of the target dummy to the ground. "Have magic?"
"More than you will ever know!" boomed Quick, standing tall and proud.
"Fix mess." Toby pointed at all the bits of target dummy he'd been cutting down. "Help other do more if not do more."
"You... impertinent creature. Face me!" He became as mist, swirling in a chaotic mess at Toby just to meet his sword in a bright clash, sword meeting horn and neither yielding.
Toby was smiling. "Do more. Fight. Get better." He leaned forward with a terrific swing, forcing Quick back. "Fight." He puffed out his chest, ready to perform the instinctual challenging poses, but he wasn't lobbying for position or authority. He gripped his sword firmly, ready to do battle with Quick Stroke, perhaps to both of their benefit, in his eyes.
She sat down at the table, surrounded by mostly ponies, but there were other creatures there with them, her included. The griffon hen stroked her beak, amazed she could even do that. She wasn't shackled. She wore no collar. She was dressed even better than some.
The rabbits seemed to be just fine in their fur, clustered at one end of the table, the most bandaged, toughest, meanest looking rabbit at the center of them. The ponies were dressed to emphasize their position. The guards wore gleaming armor, polished and new. Their princess was resplendent, as ponies went, her mane glistening with interwoven jewels.
One rabbit stood out, because he was wearing formal clothing like she was. He was conversing with others with polite words, quite good at it, as if he had traded size in for linguistic ability.
"He is a cute little one," noted a pony seated beside her. The griffon jumped in surprise, grabbing for a fork in her talons. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to surprise you," assured the mare that was in the next seat over.
"Yeah, cute." Not the word she woulda picked. She reached across the table, securing a plate of steaming legs. Why did ponies even have meat? Whatever. She grabbed a leg off the plate and thudded it onto her own with a grin. "So, do you treat all your enemies like this?"
The mare inclined her head. "Are you our enemy? You seem like a dinner guest to--"
"--cut it," interrupted the griffon as she began chewing on her morsel. "They put you next to me on purpose. You know who I am and why I'm here. I refuse to believe the ponies are that dumb, or trusting."
"Is that so bad?" asked the mare, nudging a glass towards the griffon. "We want you to be happy."
"You want me to talk," corrected the hen as she snatched up the glass and took a swig of what seemed to be a fruity and alcoholic sip. "Ha, I can hold down way stronger than this if you think it'll get my lips flapping."
"Happy people do talk more," gently agreed the mare. "But is that bad? You didn't answer. If we want answers and we're willing to get them by being nice and treating you like a creature should be treated, is that a bad thing?"
The hen set down her drumstick and put her hands flat on the table. "If you plan to throw me in jail the moment I say what you're looking for, that doesn't make you out for half as nice as you're pretending to be."
"Jail is for bad creatures." The mare leaned forward on her forehooves, chin on them. "Nice creatures do not belong in jail, that is how jails work. Are you a nice creature, or a bad creature?"
"Is that a line you're trained to say?" The griffon grabbed up her meat and tore a big chunk off, chewing moodily a moment. "The maid spat the same thing at me on the first day."
"Because it's true," noted the mare with a smile. "Nice creatures are friends, and we do not put friends in jail. I've... heard griffons can be quite cruel, and I am sorry if you were hurt, but you won't be, here."
"Easy to say." She pointed across at a dish that seemed to feature corn. "The hell is that?"
"Corn casserole," reported the mare with that bright smile of hers. "Delicious. Have you had some?" The moment the griffon shook her head, floating plate and knife approached it, carving out a portion. "Then you simply must. This party is also for you, I remind."
"Bloody... Look, I get it, you want me to sing, but this?!" She waved a set of fingers up and down the table. "This isn't for me. You were fighting us. You want us to kiss off, not treat us to dinner. Get real!"
The mare set down the steaming serving of casserole in front of the griffon. "A party can have more than one meaning. Oh, look, Princess Cadance wants to say something."
Cadance rose to her hooves at the front of the table and attention was on her quickly, other conversations dying. "I give thanks on this day," she said with solemn seriousness. "That my husband returned to me." She inclined her head towards Shining, blushing just beside her. "To those who returned to worried families, and... to those who couldn't, who gave all they could to make sure the others are here, to hold and be held by those who love them. Let us not forget their sacrifice."
Her horn glowed as she plucked up a goblet full of rich purplish drink. "A toast, to the fallen." It was silent, heads bowing as she raised it high, then drank it without a moment for breath, her eyes swimming in a hint that the drink of the dead was no idle offering, potent brew surging through her. "But there are... brighter things." She turned her head to look at the griffon at the table. "Of their number, one accepted a friendly hoof." She inclined her head towards that hen. "Though she looks at us with doubt and scorn, we hope she will learn what good friends ponies can be, and we can fight the evil that drove her against us."
Polite clapping sounded out, paw to paw, hoof to hoof, circling the table. They were all looking at the griffon who looked like she was ready to vanish into the floor instead of be the center of attention. The mare gently nudged her. "They've already forgotten you."
Despite her words, a soft thump announced the arrival of another. The young tsuki scribe had landed, his feet planted just between the food, narrowly avoiding a mess. "Hello!" he bade the griffon. "You fought Celene, and you're still here. You must be very tough!"
"One of the toughest," gladly accepted the griffon with a wry smirk.
"Can ya tell me about it? The fight? I want to hear."
"Uh..." She glanced at the mare, who didn't seem to mind. "Well, sure... There we were, waiting..."
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One line of research should realy be like how the origional IBM PC BIOS was copied legally. Take teh prisoner, make a copy of their thoughts and memories by a straight duplication, then interrogate the copy. Dont need torture or associated trauma thereafter. Evil hates the idea of no revenge, and so it makes it easier to discern a diffference?
The scribe is as crafty as the pony interrogators. No hard feelings if his cuteness extracts better intelligence than the mares?
Celine is wonderfully one-tracked. Perhaps it's a good experience she can reflect on later as she heads back.
The hen is blind-sided on all sides, maybe she'll squawk a lighter tune once the doubt washes away.
Quick thinks he's teaching a lesson, but it's Toby that's sniping at his convictions behind the wall.
Sombra is proving insightful, actually. Master planner is deftly nudging more pieces in unexpected ways...
Keep going! ;)
10385390
He came from a different angle, complimenting her and offering sincere adoration, rather than a hoof of blind friendship.
Those words should be separate
10385575
Ooops, that snuck in like a gothic mare onto a train.
Love the little ambassador.