Prisoner

by Hearts n Hooves

Aloft

I awoke early the next morning feeling very well-rested, and after stretching I had an unusually satisfying breakfast. Then, I remembered what Princess Celestia had said during our encounter the previous night.

“You needn’t be afraid any longer, young sculptor,” she had said to me.

What did she mean? I wondered. Could she have remembered me?

Even if she had, it didn’t make much sense. I had a gut feeling that there was something more to it. To my frustration, the only answers I had were more questions.

How could she know my profession? Why would she even remember me in the first place? What the hay did she mean?

I sighed and decided was pointless to fret about it; nopony other than the Princess herself could answer my inquiries. To clear my mind, I took a stroll through the Everfree Forest; the other-worldly nature of the woods drew my thoughts away from all else. It was odd to be without my scarf, though. It was also unusually freeing. I remembered the strange night it had been given to me, and a nostalgic curiosity resurfaced in my mind as I walked.

-*-

“Goodnight, Ser Arc.”

Almost immediately after his mother closed the door to his room, young Archaic Smile silently slipped out the window into the cool night air of Canterlot and climbed to the roof of his family’s estate. He stepped to the edge and peered down at the ground; because of his acrophobia, he felt a bit woozy staring at the pavement below.

I can do this, he thought. I practiced. I exercised. I can fly!

He stepped back several paces and attempted to calm his racing heart and mind with a series of deep breaths and wing-stretches. Despite his efforts, he still felt nervous, but he knew he just had to jump; the embarrassment of being the final pegasus in his age group to learn how to fly weighed on his shoulders. It was the negative attention of his peers that he feared the most, though.

Before his nerves took a hold of him, Archaic Smile sprinted to the edge and leaped into the moonlight. Reflexively, his wings snapped out, and he flapped and flapped as hard and fast as his muscles would allow. Before he knew it, he was rising above the Smiles’ estate.

I... I did it, he realized. I’m flying!

He gawkily glided back down to the roof, lest his stamina fail. Upon landing, his breathing was heavy, and he was more exhilarated than ever before. He singled out the nearest adjacent roof and ran for it, leaping in to the air and flapping again. He stumbled through the air, almost falling, but managed to catch himself. The landing was hard, but he kept his balance. This roof-hopping continued for some time, each landing becoming softer and steadier than the last.

When he finally decided it was time to return home, though, his exhilaration turned to dread, for he was lost. He flew from roof to roof searching for something familiar in the dim moonlight, until a shingle broke beneath his hoof and he slipped, falling onto his side. He slid down the roof, scrapping his wing on the tiles, and plummeted down towards the ground where he landed on the same side again, crumpling his wing.

The pain was so much that he couldn’t even utter a cry for help, and he laid motionless in silence. Through his aching daze, Archaic Smile saw four hooves moving towards him. He opened his mouth to call for help, but nothing came out.

“Hush, little one.” The voice was feminine and majestic. “Can you stand?”

Archaic Smile slowly and unsteadily rose to his hooves, and saw a tall, hooded, cloaked figure looming over him. Too frightened to move, he gaped at it in horror.

“Do not be afraid, young pegasus,” said the hooded mare. “I am here to help you. Let me examine your wing.” A white horn protruding from the figure’s hood sparked with yellow magic that enveloped Archaic Smile’s smashed wing. The pain worsened for a moment, then all but vanished in an instant. “I have healed most of the damage, but you will need rest.”

“Th... Th-Thank y-you,” Archaic Smile said.

“You would do well to watch where you land, little one.” The shrouded mare retrieved a long strip of grey, silky cloth from a saddlebag and draped it over Archaic Smile’s neck. “Take this. You should return to your home, now. Farewell.”

“W-wait! I... I’m l-lost.”

“Trust your instincts, young pegasus, and you will never lose your way.” The mare turned away and faded beneath the shadows of the night.

When little Archaic Smile woke the next morning, he was warm and cozy under his own blankets. He rolled out of bed and looked at Canterlot Castle through the window.

It... was just a dream, he thought with a sigh.

He remained at the window until his mother called him for breakfast, and when he went to open the door he noticed something hanging on the doorknob.

It’s a scarf... a grey scarf... I wasn’t dreaming!

Archaic Smile took the scarf and tied it securely around his neck, and after flexing his left wing without feeling even the least bit of pain, he climbed onto his bed and bounced into the air, where he was able to remain without falling to the floor.

“Mother!” he shouted, flying out of his room. “Mother, I can fly!”

-*-

“That’s where it came from,” I said.

After walking through the forest, I had flown over to Spring Glory’s shop again. We’d exchanged hugs, and the first thing she’d asked me was, “Would you like to take your scarf back?” Since I’d been thinking about it in the forest, I had told her the story of how I received it.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Who was the mare?”

“I... don’t know. I never found out,” I answered. “It’s peculiar, though; last night, the Princess reminded me of that strange mare.”

“What if the Princess was that strange mare?”

“W-what? You’re suggesting that the Princess fixed my broken wing when I was just a little colt horsing around at night? That’s... ridiculous.”

“You never know. She did seem to know you, Archaic Smile. I wouldn’t underestimate Princess Celestia,” she stated. “Anyway, it’s just a thought.”

“Mhmm...” I was drifting off; the memory of the mysterious unicorn who had healed my wing was fresh in my mind again. “Hey... there’s something I want to show you. May I?” I asked, gesturing at the scarf.

She handed it to me and I took it over to the window. I lifted it into the sunlight, stretching it out wide, and the fabric glimmered almost like a stained glass window, casting a puddle of patterns onto the floor.

“What is it?” Spring Glory asked, a slight tone of awe in her voice.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Even my parents couldn’t tell me... and they’ve seen everything.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“And indestructible, as far as I can tell. It’s been through a lot,” I said. “I... I’d like you to have it, Spring Glory.”

“Really?” she exclaimed, surprised. “Are you sure?”

I hesitated. “I... I trust you.”

“Oh, my... Thank you.” She took it and hugged me. “So... your mother called you Ser Arc?”

“W-well, yes... She still does,” I murmured. “Mothers do love embarrassing their children, I suppose. Mine especially... When I was little, I enjoyed tales and legends of the Royal Knights of Canterlot. My mother would pretend to be the evil, mythical creature, and I the noble knight. Sometimes, my father would even join in.”

“That’s adorable,” she giggled. “Your parents sound like a nice couple of ponies.”

“They can be,” I said.

“So,” she said dragging the word out. “Ser Arc is a cute nickname.”

“Uh...”

“I won’t use it if you ask me not to,” she pouted jokingly.

“I-I... I suppose it’s okay,” I said. “Just... Not in public, okay?”

She giggled excitedly. “Alright... Ser Arc.”

I could feel myself wildly blushing. “I’ll never hear the end of this, will I?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“What about you?”I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“It would only be fair if I had a nickname for you,” I encouraged. “Don’t you agree?”

“Oh... Nopony has ever given me a nickname,” she said.

“Hmm... Well... How about Glory?” I suggested.

“Just Glory? That’s not much of a nickname.”

“It’s simple, I know... It’s still very pretty, though,” I said. “L-like you.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you. Thank you,” she said, nuzzling against me. “Would you like to join me for lunch, Ser Arc?”

“I would.”