Princess Celestia adopts a colt capable of extraordinary abilities. Though as the colt grows older, he begins to see his blessings as curses.
Sundial is not your average pony. Most would assume this is readily apparent, considering he is the adopted child of Princess Celestia herself. Though not many wonder why exactly Princess Celestia so suddenly decided to adopt a little colt. Nopony really wonders why the Prince rarely makes public appearances. Nopony in Canterlot Castle really questions the strange happenings centering around Sundial.
This is all because, for lack of a better word, Sundial is special. He can use telekinesis without magic, he can fly without wings, he has the strength of ten stallions, and perhaps most significantly... he can see how things work. Sundial is a colt gifted with many more extraordinary abilities. Most would say these are blessings, but when you have to spend the majority of your childhood in isolation so you can train yourself not to kill everypony in the room by sneezing, you begin to rethink such a thing. It most certainly doesn't help that he would prefer to keep his abilities a secret...
(Well, I've never written any fanfiction before in my life, so I decided to try my hand at it. I have yet to see a Heroes crossover on FiMFiction, so I figured 'why not?' Knowledge of the television show Heroes helps, but is not required.)
(EDIT: For the time being, this story is on haitus due to a busy life and general lack of inspiration. I'll come back to this at a later date, but don't hold your breath; you'll suffocate.)
I apologize for not meeting you in person, but you must understand that the circumstances surrounding my arrival to your kingdom have left me with little time. I know you are confused, and I promise you I will return eventually to answer any questions you may have. Do not wait for me, however, as it will likely take more than a decade to gain the resources required for my arrival and departure.
Within the crib, as you no doubt have gathered, is a foal. Said foal is an orphan, and I bring him to you in hopes you shall adopt him as your own. I understand if you have reservations towards doing such, and are most probably wondering why not simply give the foal to an orphanage or a normal pony couple. This is because the foal, for lack of a better word, is special. It is my belief that only an alicorn is capable of raising this foal, for reasons that will hopefully soon become apparent.
I have no doubt that should you accept this foal as your son, you will raise him to the best of your considerable ability. I will completely understand of course should you decide to give the foal away, with royal duties taking so much of your time. However, be warned that whomever you give the foal to will be in great danger, as a foal has little control or understanding of its actions.
No matter what you choose, please ensure the foal is loved, cared for, and most of all, feels special.
With sincere thanks,
P. Petrelli
The snow white alicorn read the letter slowly. After finishing, she cast a glance to her left past a massive queen sized bed, and gazed at the crib and in extension the little being within. She then hurriedly snapped back to the letter and reread it.
Her rose colored eyes examined every word of this estranged letter, noting the writing to be quite neat. Her eyes pierced the document, as if her gaze alone could convince the letter to divulge who wrote it. She had doubts that a name like P. Petrelli is real, and thought it some kind of alias. She would reread it again and again, not entirely certain what she is searching for. Perhaps she was trying and failing miserably to grasp the situation.
Not only had somepony snuck past all of the guards in Canterlot Castle, effortlessly passed the numerous magical alarm spells and anti-teleportation wards and broken into her bedchambers, but they had also somehow gotten a foal complete with a crib past the security as well. On top of all of that, they also left without a trace of their existence aside from the foal and the note.
The alicorn’s horn dimmed, and the golden glow surrounding the letter vanished, dropping the parchment to the ground without a sound. She turned her rose colored gaze to the simple metallic crib. In design the crib is simplistic, with featureless white painted metal making the frame and the bars. The crib is far too large to be used by regular sized ponies, and was obviously designed with alicorns or similarly sized creatures in mind. The alicorn noted that the frame was filled with two feather pillows rather than a mattress. The alicorn blinked when she saw the bundle of simple blue blankets twitch a bit.
She had yet to see the ‘special’ foal yet. Her features creased with worry when she thought of the letter’s insistence that the foal was special. It worded it as if the ‘specialness’ of this foal is dangerous. As an alicorn, she did not fear many things in this world. It would take a tremendous amount of effort to even hope to draw the blood of an alicorn, let alone actually harm one to any significant degree. Perhaps this is why the mysterious P. Petrelli sought her to raise this foal?
The alicorn bit her lip. She is a Princess, the sole monarch to her land of Equestria. She thinks of her subjects as her children, and has, in her opinion, more than enough experience in her exceptionally long life to raise a foal.
Despite her previous confidence, it occurs to the alicorn that she has never been a real mother before. While she had gotten ‘motherly’ urges in the past, she had always ignored them as she is too busy to even think of romanticizing anypony, let alone have a foal with them, and raise that foal. She supposes cutting out the romance and pregnancy part is rather efficient, but she still couldn’t hope to raise a foal single hoofedly with the schedule she keeps.
Could she?
The blue blanket twitched again, and a small squeak echoed in the room. She still has yet to see the foal.
The alicorn trotted around her bed, and approached the crib. She saw a singular light gray hoof sticking from the little bundle of blue blanket. She wondered if whatever is special about the foal shows physically. Is it deformed? Is it a changeling? Is it a… alicorn?
She shook that last thought from her mind. Ascension could not possibly have happened to a foal… could it have? Can a foal be born an alicorn?
She couldn’t wait any longer. She charged her horn, which became surrounded with a golden glow of magic. The blanket untangled itself to reveal…
…An average earth pony foal. A rather monochromatic one at that. Its coat is slate gray, and its mane is either black or a really dark shade of brown. The foal’s eyes are brown, and looked upon the princess with unrestrained awe.
One of the foal’s first memories was the sight of Princess Celestia looking down upon him. The foal’s eyes were drawn to her golden tiara, and her multicolored ethereal mane, flowing in a nonexistent breeze to his visible left, leaving only her right eye visible. The Princess’s eyes were widened with mild surprise at how… average the little foal looked. Seeing nothing particularly dangerous or malicious about the foal, Princess Celestia adopted a motherly smile, and giggled when the foal attempted to reach out at her with his right hoof.
“Why hello there my little pony…” She murmured as she calmly removed her two front golden shoes. Placing them aside, she reached into the crib with her right forehoof and calmly stroked the foal’s head.
“I wonder why anypony would think you’re dangerous.” She giggled softly. In all her mental ramblings and self doubt, Celestia had forgotten how cute foals are. The object of her affection seemed particularly focused on her tiara, his eyes squinting somewhat as if concentrating. Celestia couldn’t help but giggle at the cute expression. She wondered what would have a foal so focused looking.
Suddenly, her head felt a little lighter. Confused, Celestia averted her gaze upwards to see her tiara slowly being levitated off of her head. She saw nor felt no magical aura around it, and she quickly confirmed that she and the foal are the only ones in the room.
Celestia stared in confused awe as the tiara slowly and shakily floated towards the foal, his eyes still squinted as if concentrating. He raised his hooves up to grab the tiara out of the air, and hugs it to himself.
The foal then giggled at the dumbfounded look upon Celestia’s face. She had just watched an earth pony foal telekinetically move an object without the use of magic. What he did involved absolutely no magic; if it did, she would have been able to feel it.
The foal broke her out of her haze when he squirmed restlessly, and Celestia noticed her hoof had frozen mid-stroke out of shock. Celestia continued slowly stroking the foal, a look of comprehension creasing her features. She now understood why the foal was special, but not why it was worded as if the foal is danger-
As if on cue, an arc of electricity danced from the foal’s head into Celestia’s hoof, and a powerful shock went through her. She withdrew her hoof in surprise.
To her, it felt like a simple case of static electricity, but she is an alicorn. She knew full well that if that shock had happened to an average pony, not only would they be burnt, but their heart would more than likely have stopped from a shock that powerful. Disturbingly, the foal didn’t even look like he had intended to do it. He still sat there, hugging and nuzzling Celestia’s tiara as if it’s all that matters in the world.
Celestia’s gaze travelled back to the discarded letter, still lying on the ground where she had deftly dropped it. She remembered its warning that anypony raising it besides her would be in great danger.
Were she a normal pony, she would have been dead simply from touching the foal. The only possible caretaker for this foal is an alicorn… and Celestia is the only alicorn currently in existence in any position to be raising a foal.
Celestia sighed. Despite her hectic schedule that could only become more hectic with a foal involved, Celestia refuses to simply abandon him, and she refuses to put any of her subjects in danger for her convenience.
She turned her gaze back to the foal, who had let go of the tiara and was now curiously staring at Celestia.
“Well, my little pony. It appears that I am going to be your new mother…” Celestia said distractedly, while she thinks about how to go about such a feat. Almost as if he could understand her, the foal lit up and squeaked.
Celestia stood still, thinking about what she has to do to raise this foal. Obviously she cannot do it in secret; she would have to announce that she is adopting a son. The nobles will not be happy, especially the Bluebloods, the previous heirs. She couldn’t really see a reason why they would be upset, she is ageless after all and she isn’t stepping down from the throne any time soon. She knows they will be upset anyway, though. She supposes being second in line to the throne doesn’t hold as much merit as being first in line. Beyond that she knows that more than a few of the more bigoted citizens of her nation would be rather miffed about her adopted son being an earth pony, and she will inevitably be accused of adopting the earth pony solely for the appearance of racial equality. She would also have to forge documents of the foal’s existence so she could adopt him properly; she’s far too famous to adopt a foal that seemingly came out of nowhere with no documents, after all. She briefly wondered if she should allow the foal’s apparent abilities to be publicly known, but ultimately decided against it. She knows full well that her ponies are skittish, and probably would fear the idea of an earth pony doing… whatever else this little foal is capable of doing. Besides that, she doesn’t want that kind of attention for him. Goodness knows that he’ll be getting enough attention as it is, being the Princess’s first and only adopted son.
Celestia looked at the foal that had fallen asleep sometime during her thoughts. Celestia’s horn glowed as she cast a simple divination spell upon the foal, just to see if there are any discrepancies and to make sure that he is actually a pony foal. Her little scan came back with completely normal results. She wondered how the little supposedly normal foal could do the things he did.
“Just where did you come from..?” Celestia murmured, before her internal clock informed her that it is time to set the sun and raise the moon.
She trotted away from the crib, and out to her balcony. When she returns from her celestial duties, she will begin her document forgery.
She was understandably nervous about the future. But she was hopeful too.
--0--
A bipedal creature watched as Celestia lowered the sun and raised the moon from its vantage point. It stood atop one of Canterlot’s walls, dressed in a grey silk blazer, as well matching dress pants and shoes. The creature is mostly hairless, save the graying brown hair atop its head and partially covering its face. Its brown eyes watched intently as the patron of the sun did her work.
This creature, unknown to the inhabitants of Equestria, is called a human. This particular human is named Peter Petrelli.
Peter had been through a rough life, but was happy to see his old nemesis will finally start over. In a place without the temptation of abilities to acquire, Peter hopes that the once most dangerous serial killer humans have ever known will live a happy, non-murderous life.
They had been fighting for thirty-six years, and now it was coming to an end. Peter almost couldn’t believe it was over. Peter could wholeheartedly say he was not quite expecting it to end like this, but who would expect such a long rivalry to end with the, for lack of a better word, reincarnation of one of the opponents into a sentient equine?
Peter chuckled to himself, wondering when his life got so crazy. Oh yeah, thirty-six years ago.
Peter smiled, before he raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. He then disappeared without a trace.
The Canterlot Castle Palace Labyrinth; a beautiful well maintained garden, tourist trap and (secret) prison. It never spends a day unoccupied, whether it is filled with busy gardeners maintaining its beauty, or curious pony tourists who wish to take in the sights, or even laughing foals playing hide and go seek while their parents shuffle about worrying about offending royalty.
Today, however, is a unique day. The sun shines at the very top of the sky, no weather obstructing its light or warmth. It’s usually about at this time that the Canterlot Palace Labyrinth is busiest, though it remains curiously scarce of visitors. Signs are hung above any and all locked entrances to the tourist trap, reading ‘Closed for maintenance.’
Despite the signs, no gardeners are within the hedges maintaining anything. There are only two ponies present, alone within the confines of the greenery.
One such pony is a familiar snow white alicorn. Her shocking height easily dwarfs others of her species, measuring at twenty-four hooves tall when standing on all fours. Easily the most striking and memorable feature of her being would be her mane and tail, their ethereal nature rendering the hair nearly weightless, with a curious effect of eternally blowing in a nonexistent breeze. Her mane is multicolored, a soft rainbow of pink, light blue, purple, and sea green. Interestingly enough, if you look into the mane for a long enough period of time, you would notice that the colors don’t quite flow with the hair, giving it the feel of a shockingly colorful ocean wave. Her eyes are pale magenta, though if you looked closely enough for long enough, you would see misty swirls within her irises, as if her eyes are filled with pink smoke. Her horn is five hoofs long, ending with a point, and her wingspan is roughly twice her body length. Adorning her person are four stylized identical golden horseshoes, clearly intended for image rather than comfort. She wears a golden breastplate, which has several swirling patterns engraved onto the surface with enough detail to get lost in for hours, and a large purple amethyst gem in the center, briolette cut. Upon her head is a golden tiara, engraved much like the breastplate with another amethyst set within the center of it, identical to the one set within the breastplate. Embellished upon her flanks is her iconic sun cutie mark, also seen upon Equestria’s flags and currency.
One would have to be an alien not to recognize the world famous image of Princess Celestia, Monarch of Equestria and Patron of the Sun and Moon. One should wonder what such a figure is doing within the closed off hedge maze; shouldn’t she be working? Surely an individual of such influence must be very busy. Which she is; very very busy. However, she is taking a leave of absence from court duty this day. Why? The answer lies with her significantly less iconic though quite famous companion.
Excitedly hopping about at her heels is an earth pony colt, no more than three years of age. His coat is slate gray, and slightly matted with dirt and grass stains from the day’s activities. His mane and tail are short, messy, and black. His hair tends to flow in the breeze, though unlike his companion, his hair stops when there is no breeze to be flowing in. His eyes are light brown, and if you look very closely you can see that his irises are still, in fact, light brown with no ethereal qualities of smokiness. Adorning his person is a single brown twig, with two green leaves on the end entangled in his little mane. He probably got it stuck in his mane when he wanted to see if he could tunnel through one of the hedges with nothing but confidence and his face. He couldn’t.
You would be forgiven if you didn’t immediately recognize him as the first adopted son of Princess Celestia herself. If you were told you were going to see Princess Celestia’s only son, and he was then introduced to you, you would probably double take at how shockingly… average he appears. Most would agree he is rather monochromatic, his only colors being grey, black and brown. He is formally and widely known as Prince Solstice. He is informally known to Princess Celestia, a few servants and some pieces of documentation as Sundial.
Sundial and his adoptive mother are the reason the tourist trap is closed. The signs say ‘Closed for maintenance’ because there isn’t enough room to fit ‘Princess Celestia is taking a break to spend time with her only son and due to unusual circumstances this is the only place to do it.’
Celestia sighed wistfully. If only every day could be like this…
Sundial trotted ahead of his mother, excitedly taking in the sights of this new place. This is one of the few times he is allowed outside, unfortunately. Celestia hates isolating her child, but precautions must be taken. At least, they must be taken until he is old enough to control his… conductivity.
As if to prove her point, electricity arced from Sundial’s hoof to a random spot upon the beaten dirt path that makes most of the ground in the maze.
Celestia took her son to the labyrinth (after finding an excuse to close it down for a while) because it is isolated when unoccupied, big and fun to explore, and also very peaceful. Celestia watched with amusement as Sundial concentrated on two particularly large stones he had found, and steadily levitated them.
He loves his telekinesis. Celestia has no idea how the little colt does it, but he plays with it every chance he gets. He’s getting a lot more dexterous with it, and it is becoming stronger as well. She watched as the colt levitated the rocks so they orbited around his head with ease. She has no idea why he does things like this, but it is obvious to her that he finds it immensely entertaining. Celestia supposes that if she could levitate things at such a young age, she would probably find games to play that no one else would understand as well.
One of the rocks suddenly stopped its orbit around Sundial’s head in front of his face, while the other dropped lifelessly behind him.
“Mommy! Look!” He excitedly shouted. Celestia cringed a bit at the unnecessary volume and high pitch, but shrugged it off. She swears that the colt is going to have some shouting voice when he grows up.
Celestia obediently trotted behind her son, and gazed over his shoulder at the stone he levitated.
Upon the rock is a small snail, its little shell an almost identical grey to the rock it inhabits.
A side effect of having a colt not old enough to read confined indoors for the safety of others; he will inevitably be clueless about wildlife.
“That is a snail, Sundial.” Celestia helpfully informed as Sundial continued to stare at the snail as it made its slow and steady way across the rock, his brown eyes filled with wonder only a foal could have. Celestia couldn’t help but smile at her son’s reaction. Leave it to the young to find wonder in something so mundane.
Suddenly the snail was popped from its perch upon the stone and floated even closer to Sundial’s face. The stone it was on dropped to the dirt, forgotten. Celestia saw her son squint as the snail slowly curled back into its shell, soon invisible from his eyes.
“Why’d it go in there?” Sundial asked his mother without diverting his attention from the shell.
“Because it feels vulnerable. Like most creatures, snails seek safety when they feel like they’re going to be hurt. A snail feels safest in its shell.” Celestia patiently explained.
“Why’s it think it’s gonna be hurt?” Sundial asked. Celestia merely smirked.
“Well, how would you feel if you were suddenly lifted into the sky?” Celestia asked.
Sundial looked straight up into the sky, as if contemplating how he would feel up there.
“I dunno…” Sundial eventually responded.
Celestia smiled, knelt down and nuzzled the side of her child’s face.
“I would imagine it being quite scary.” Celestia said, as Sundial turned to look at her.
“Maybe.” Sundial said, grinning a bit. Celestia idly noted that the snail had stopped levitating and had been dropped onto the ground forgotten.
“Maybe?” Celestia asked.
“What if you fly?” Sundial asked, grinning wider. Celestia isn’t certain why her child is so amused by this line of questioning. She grinned. Foals.
“Then I guess it wouldn’t be very scary then, would it?” She said as she stood up.
“Uh-uh.” Sundial affirmed.
With that, Sundial seemed to believe the conversation over. Celestia sighed. She didn’t spend nearly enough time around children before Sundial. A conversation with a foal is a bewildering experience.
A butterfly, specifically a very vibrant purple-blue one, fluttered in front of the pair. Sundial’s eyes lit up with delight and curiosity at the creature, and he quickly trotted towards it. The butterfly started to fly away down the maze, and Sundial trotted after it. Celestia giggled at the sight. A foal chasing a butterfly much like a cat would.
Celestia’s humor at the situation quickly vanished when Sundial’s back hooves slipped out from under him in a clumsy blunder, and he fell to the ground on a small upturned rock. The butterfly continued unhindered, forgotten.
Sundial whimpered as he cradled his right hoof, which had a little red scrape. Celestia wasted no time rushing to her child, laying down next to him and cradling his tiny form between her arms.
“Shhhhh. It’s okay, it’s just a scratch.” Celestia cooed to her whimpering son. Celestia vaguely remembered what her mother would do every time she would get hurt as a little filly.
“It hurts~” Sundial whimpered. Celestia nuzzled him while she gently pulled the offending injury to her gaze.
“Let mommy kiss it better.” She whispered lovingly, as she leaned her head in, and lightly kissed the little red scrape.
Sundial opened his eyes, which had been clenched shut up to that point, and looked at Celestia’s loving gaze. Celestia smiled softly; glad she was able to comfort her son.
Celestia eyed the scrape. It isn’t deep; it isn’t even bleeding. But Sundial is only three, after all. He has yet to develop a pain tolerance. It’s moments like these that bring Celestia back over a thousand years ago, before her ascension. How everything in her little world was perfect, and yet seemed to fall apart at the slightest grievance. How any problem in the world could be solved by her parents, how they were the mightiest beings in her little world. Nothing bad could ever really happen, because mommy was there.
“I feel better now.” Celestia was brought out of her memories by Sundial’s voice. Her eyes came back into focus, and she looked down at her son. She noticed a recent detail is missing.
The scrape is gone.
Celestia’s eyes widened. The tiny scrape had disappeared. There was no trace of it ever being there, no scab, even the tiny amounts of fur that were scraped off seemed to be there.
Celestia also noticed that she is a little chilly. This is even more alarming.
An alicorn has some rather impressive temperature resistance, but an average alicorn (if average is such a term you could use to describe a rare being such as the alicorn) still feels cold and heat normally. Celestia, however, is the patron of the sun; she simply shouldn’t get cold at all. She can feel heat fine, she can feel a breeze, but it takes nothing short of a blizzard to get Celestia to even notice a cold temperature.
Celestia looked down at Sundial, who still looked up at her curiously. Her brow creased with worry when she saw the ground beneath Sundial looks slightly… glassy.
It was at this point that Celestia noticed the fur on her arms had frost on them. The golden breastplate she wears also seemed to have a light blue sheen to it, as if it had just been taken out of ice water. Despite the obvious freezing temperatures that appeared out of nowhere, Sundial seemed completely fine.
She soon realized why.
Sundial is the source of this freezing effect.
Strangely, Celestia could still feel Sundial’s body heat, despite everything around him suddenly frosting over. She noticed that the effect had stopped, seemingly right after the little wound had healed.
“Thanks mommy.” Sundial squeaked, throwing his tiny hooves around Celestia’s neck in a hug. He is still so tiny that his hooves cannot even reach all the way around her neck, but his hug has quite a bit of surprising force behind it.
It’s not the first time she has noticed the little colt’s surprising strength. If Celestia had to gauge it, she would say that Sundial’s strength is about equal to that of an average adolescent pony. Despite the amount of force being exerted, Sundial has no visible muscle mass that would hint at this strength. Celestia would attribute this to some form of magical effect if she wasn’t dealing with her son. However, as the three years of raising him have gone by, she has long since understood that all of the things Sundial is capable of are completely isolated from magic. Celestia isn’t too worried about his strength; she could withstand the strength of ten earth ponies and exert just as much. Celestia didn’t have any muscle mass to suggest this either, but the key difference is that her abilities are attributed to her alicorn connection with magic.
The strength is nothing new; neither is the electricity or moving things with his mind. He at points seems to have rather scary good memory, explaining his quick grasp of Equestrian speech. Celestia swore she saw him levitate once, but she hasn’t seen him do it again. But this strange freezing effect and the quickness of his healing? These are new.
Celestia’s brow furrowed at the thought. Could it be he is gaining more abilities over time? Of course, maybe he could always heal really quickly and she never noticed, and maybe the frost is simply something he does as a reaction to pain; something he does not feel at all in his day-to-day.
But it’s a scary thought; giving such a young colt even more power. He is already a potentially fatal accident waiting to happen for anypony besides Celestia herself, and if this freezing issue becomes a common development, and if he becomes capable of even more than that…
…Then it would seem that the best thing she could do is isolate him and teach him to suppress his destructive nature to the best of her abilities.
Celestia sighed. She’d cross that bridge if she comes across it. At least Sundial is slowly becoming better about accidentally discharging electricity all the time… and accidentally releasing bolts of lightning powerful enough to kill an electrically adapted pegasus every time he’s startled.
The sun is making its descent, marking the time of day as 1:00 pm. Celestia deduced this without looking up; she can always feel the position of the sun, for obvious reasons. Unfortunately, Celestia can rarely get an entire day off. As it stands, she got a few hours. She needs to be in court in a half hour. She would much rather spend time with her son than listen to nobles dribble on about their selfish mandates, or solve small problems that her citizens could have gone to the mayor of whatever town they hail from. Don’t get her wrong; she loves her citizens and takes her duties very seriously. It just seems like the real problems that deserve her attention are rather few and far between these days.
Regardless, she has to bring Sundial back to his room so she can go to court.
“It’s time to go, Sundial.” Celestia said while her son was still latched to her neck in a hug. Sundial did not react beyond pulling his head back to see his mother. He seemed a little disappointed, but voiced nothing.
Celestia’s horn began to glow a familiar golden, before the mother and son were consumed in a bright flash, and vanished.
--0--
Celestia and Sundial appeared inside the center of Sundial’s chambers. Most teleportation spells would cause nausea, vertigo, and discomfort upon being cast on anything besides a unicorn, but Celestia had perfected a slightly more complicated and intensive spell that removes such symptoms. After all, it is Sundial’s main means of transportation. Can’t have him getting a tummy ache every time he leaves his room.
The room is largely a void, with few objects being in the room. There is a queen sized bed with a red quilt, white sheets mattress and pillows. An average toddler would most likely have difficulty getting into a bed so big, but Sundial is easily able to clamber on top of his bed. The frame of the large bed is largely basic metal, but has some intricate patterns engraved onto the surface using gold. The bed is made neat and tidy, by Celestia herself, as she cannot let servants into Sundial’s room for their own safety. Placed on one of the pillows is a previously wall mounted clock, with a basic black finish and white display. Celestia smiled. That clock is what she named Sundial after. He telekinetically levitated that clock off of the wall of his room when he was still in a crib and slept with it, and now he refuses to sleep without it. Celestia thinks the ticking of the clock is what he is attracted to. She theorizes that it soothes him. The clockwork ticking of a time piece lulls him to sleep, as if he’s afraid time would stop if he was unaware of the seconds ticking by.
The room’s floor is covered in a soft light red rug, and the walls are stark white. There is a single unremarkable wooden chest against the wall opposite the bed. It’s filled with various little toys and trinkets that Sundial has taken a liking to. To the right of the chest, there is the door that leads into the room. To the left of the chest, there are windows overlooking Canterlot.
Celestia stood up above Sundial, and began walking towards the large gold-lined door that leads into Sundial’s room. She halted her stride when she almost stepped upon a large white canvas next to some hoofpainting supplies. Ah, yes. She had brought some art supplies before they left for the Labyrinth. She carefully stepped around the items, before stopping at the door.
She looked back at Sundial. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I love you, Sundial.” She said, the never ending feeling of guilt surrounding her, just like every time she has to leave her child by himself.
“Love you too!” Sundial said happily, not put off in the slightest. Celestia smiled softly, before opening the door, leaving, and locking the door behind her. At the very least it has taught him to be largely independent.
She didn’t need to worry too much, however. She wouldn’t leave her child completely unsupervised, even if he’s in a room where hardly anything can happen. She has some powerful spells in place on Sundial’s room, and she can detect any amounts of his distress while away. She can’t be there all the time, but she will be there when he needs her, at least.
Sundial, meanwhile, had been left alone again. He is only three, so naturally he doesn’t quite understand why his mother is always busy. But he has become used to entertaining himself. He loves his mother very much, as she is always there in the mornings, and always there to say goodnight. She’s also always there when he gets a boo-boo, regardless if she watched it happen or not.
Sundial looked around the room, seeing the painting supplies and canvas sprawled on the floor. He walked to the new items, remembering what his mother said about them. Painting. She said you can paint anything if you’re creative. Sundial approached the canvas, and the large palette where the paints are supposed to go. He finds himself wondering what to paint.
Suddenly, inspiration strikes. Sundial telekinetically lifts a few of the paint tubes, and deftly squeezes the blue paint onto the palette. Not entirely aware of his actions, Sundial then dips his right forehoof into the newly dispensed paint. He then begins to rapidly paint on the canvas, trying to get the image in his head onto a physical surface.
Mom’s going to think he’s so creative!
--0--
Celestia was trotting through the halls of the castle, idly nodding in acknowledgement towards the passerby. Her hooves clip-clopped loudly enough for everypony to know exactly who is walking down the halls. It is now 5:00 pm, and she has had an exhausting court session. Her day isn’t done, as she now has to delve into what is known to most as the seventh circle of Tartarus; paperwork. Mountains of paperwork. You’d think as the one who raises and lowers the sun and the moon, she would have some ponies to do paperwork for her. But no, even one thousand year old immortal sun-raisers cannot escape that particular section of Tartarus on Earth. Before she delves into Mount Pigeonhole, she wants to check on Sundial.
She knew she was getting close to her son’s room when the guard detail began to thin out. She began to feel various security spells cast by herself wade around her as she walked. Despite the lack of guard detail, her son’s room is the most secure location in Canterlot barring the Canterlot Palace Vault.
She continued to walk until she came across a familiar gold-lined door. She used magic to open it, before peaking her head inside.
She saw Sundial hunched over the canvas she had left in his room earlier, though the canvas had a very intricate looking image on it. She saw that most of the darker colored paint tubes had been emptied, and the palette had many darkened colors mixed into it. She couldn’t see the painting besides the edges because of Sundial’s position.
“Sundial?” She called. Immediately Sundial’s head whipped around to look right at Celestia. It took a tremendous amount of willpower not to yelp in alarm at what she saw.
Sundial’s eyes were a milky white. His irises and pupils had completely disappeared, and all that was left were these milky white spheres. She almost shouted in alarm, until Sundial blinked and his brown eyes returned. He seemed to light up at the presence of his mother.
“Mommy, look what I made!” He said, clearly excited over his painting.
Celestia swallowed her concerns temporarily, because what she saw next made her heart stop.
Sundial moved out of the way, his right hoof lifted slightly off the ground, dripping multicolored paint.
Celestia never told him about Nightmare Moon, let alone show him what she looks like.
She slowly turned her gaze from the painting to Sundial, her expression one of horror.
What does this mean?
\----------/0\----------/
List of Manifested Abilities (In the order in which they were manifested/discovered.)
Telekinesis: The ability to cause kinetic energy of varying precision and strength with the mind. This ability can be used to create an invisible force thin enough to slice through various materials.
Electrical Manipulation: The ability to generate, manipulate, direct, and discharge electricity. While the host is immune to their generated electricity, they can still be harmed by electrocution from other sources.
Enhanced Memory: Similar to eidetic memory, this ability allows for perfect recall, though theoretically on a much larger scale of information storage.
Enhanced Strength: The ability to exert force several times stronger than any natural limit, regardless of muscle mass. A possible side effect of this ability could increase the durability of the user, as some feats of strength that should break the host’s own bones can be done with no injury.
Rapid Cellular Regeneration: The ability to heal at a vastly accelerated rate. This ability allows limbs and organs to be grown after they have been severed, and also displays the capability of reviving a dead host as long as nothing is hindering the healing process.
Refrigeration: The ability to significantly lower (but never raise) temperatures. Note that this ability can only function when physical contact with the target is made. The host is also immune to cold or freezing temperatures.
Abstract Precognitive Depiction: The ability to draw, paint, or otherwise visually depict future events. The inevitability of depicted predictions tends to vary.
Night falls over Equestria. The stars are out, though a little askew from where they should be. They never form constellations anymore. Sometimes the sky will get lucky and form one or two the way they should be, though the rest simply refuse to cooperate. Like restless children without their chaperone. A full moon looms overhead, the Mare in the Moon’s gaze seeming to pierce the inhabitants of the night. The night simply feels… dead. Foreboding. Nothing like its splendor almost one thousand years ago. Nothing like the beautiful comfort the night had all the way back then. When you could navigate the land using the stars as your compass, when you could spend hours getting lost in the white speckled night sky, more stars revealing themselves as you stare deeper. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you could see a little white streak fly through the sky for half a second; a falling star. The moon was pure white, and had a calm blue luminescence that made the land look almost like a new place under a tranquil color scheme. But no more. The stars remain dull, and inaccurate. Falling stars are non-existent; mere old mare’s tales from the time of yore. The moon, now horribly blemished with Celestia’s greatest shame, simply doesn’t glow as brightly anymore.
The night has never been the same without Luna. Celestia is reminded of this every single time she has to raise and lower the moon. It eats at her, and she can’t escape it. It simply isn’t fair…
The dim moonlight shines through the windows of one of the most extravagant towers in Canterlot Castle. Within, the dim blue light reveals the beautiful bedchambers of Princess Celestia.
The moonlight shines through the glass doors to the balcony, revealing the lush red carpeting soft enough to sleep on. The walls are a soothing purple, with intricate celestial-inspired golden designs lining the ceiling. A large white ponnequin alicorn the approximate size of Celestia lies in one of the room’s corners, wearing Celestia’s golden princess regalia. A large purple door is to the left of the ponnequin, leading to the wardrobe of largely neglected -though very nice- clothing and formal wear. On the opposite end of the wall is another purple door, leading to the royal washroom. Between the two doors lies a very large and extravagant looking four-poster bed, with rose colored blankets, start white sheets and mattress, and golden frame. The bed’s golden supports and roof are golden and intricately engraved, with silky red curtains hanging on either side of the mattress. The headboard is a golden-bejeweled design of a star in the middle of a large sun. Within this bed, shifting slightly, is the sleeping form of Princess Celestia.
Contrary to a popular rumor (Celestia has no idea how it spread) Celestia does, in fact, sleep. She also dreams, just like everypony else.
She also has nightmares… just like everypony else.
Currently, she’s dreaming that she is in court. Of course like all dreams, the details of such are scarce, and very inconsistent. There is a pony speaking to her at the bottom of her throne, which at the time seems a lot larger than it should be, though the pony’s words escape the princess. In fact, the pony’s details seem to change every time she focuses on something else.
Celestia idly gazes around her throne room, noting how empty it seems to be. How the banners are too long and oddly colored. She also notices how- wait.
Celestia then finds herself within the throne room of the Castle of Royal Pony Sisters. She shifts her gaze down to the detail-absent pony below, still speaking.
The pony’s details are now so clear. Beneath her lies a blue alicorn, with light blue hair, wonderful teal eyes, and a crescent moon cutie mark. She wears a black tiara, a black crescent moon breastplate, and light blue metallic horseshoes; the tangible opposite to Celestia’s own regalia. Beneath her is her sister, Luna!
Wait, Luna is crying. Why? What is she saying? Luna is within day court, pleading to Celestia. She wants to keep the moon up- just for one day. So the ponies will see how wonderful and beautiful her night is. Celestia’s little Lulu looks exhausted from being up in the day- this must be important to her.
Luna is falling apart from the loneliness. She feels that should the ponies see what they’re missing, perhaps some will become nocturnal like she. Perhaps the ponies will love her and her night! Perhaps she can ask for somepony else’s opinion about her constellations, or perhaps she could have somepony there to watch the meteor showers with her! Just one day absent, so everypony can see what they’re missing!
Celestia shook her head. No, she would state. The ponies are far too skittish. They’ll believe the sun is never coming back. They’ll think their crops are dying, they’ll think the world is ending. Even for one day, even if forewarning is made, it cannot be done. Celestia felt a buzzing in the back of her mind.
Luna looked crushed. Her exhausted and aggrieved mind overwhelmed with sorrow. Surely her sister could have understood? But no! Celestia is the worst of them! Always so arrogant, always strutting about within the daylight, absorbing praise like a horrible sponge. Where is Luna’s praise? Who loves Luna? Nopony. Not even her sister cares for her, or her night.
The castle throne room seemed darker, as if night had suddenly taken hold. The brickwork seemed older, the banners and rugs disheveled. The buzzing in the back of Celestia’s mind increased in intensity.
Celestia cringes at the buzzing in her mind. It means something important, but she just can’t tell what. She clenches her eyes shut, before opening them again. The throne room looks even worse than before, the darkness overwhelming, banners burnt and tattered, brickwork outright falling apart. Beneath her no longer stood her sister, but a demon wearing her sister’s skin and power. The Nightmare, taking her sister’s negative emotion, feeding on it like the parasite it is. Nightmare Moon will show all of Equestria how beautiful the night is! They will love the night, and they will banish the sun!
Nightmare Moon is not her sister, but a spirit. But the spirit came to Luna, and was her only friend. How could anypony blame poor Luna? All of those nights- sobbing alone within her bedchambers. Wishing upon her own stars that she could be loved. She had her wish answered; the Nightmare shared her plea. The Nightmare knew how to get ponies to love her. The Nightmare loved Luna unconditionally. It whispered to her; why, you could have all of the love? Maybe it’s time for your arrogant sister to be the unloved one! You can be loved. All it takes is your silent obedience…
The buzzing increased to unbearable heights in Celestia’s mind, as she saw Nightmare Moon levitating into the air in front of her throne, meeting her eye to eye. Where is my sister, Celestia cried! Nightmare Moon only laughed. Luna is gone, she said. As you soon will be, along with your precious sun!
Celestia had to stop her- she wanted her sister back! She would give her the day of night! She would let Luna have many twenty-four hour nights! Just please, give her sister back! She wielded the Elements of Harmony, as they would purify her! The Elements would bring her back! The massive prismatic beam hit Nightmare Moon, gripping her soul, cleansing it! Luna will be back!
When the smoke cleared, the buzzing in Celestia’s mind still carried on. Nightmare Moon is gone, but where is Luna? Celestia looked up into the sky, the roof now blown open in the throne room. Etched upon the full moon, was an image of a mare. The Elements purified nothing- they fixed nothing! She felt overwhelming hatred for the Elements. They took her sister from her! They took Luna!
The buzzing was reaching a crescendo, as Celestia fell to the floor, defeated. No, the Elements did nothing. It was Celestia. She had driven Luna to the Nightmare. She did this. She sent her away. Celestia is to blame, it is all. Her. FAULT!
Celestia shot upright from her bed panting, a cold sweat clinging to her coat, tears rolling down her cheeks. She cast her gaze out of the balcony’s glass doors, seeing the Mare in the Moon looking back at her.
Another nightmare.
Nightmares are her fault too. If Luna was still here, she would chase them away, as she always did. Nightmares scarcely existed before Luna’s banishment. They didn’t even have a name.
Then Luna left. Then the night became… dead.
Celestia kept her aggrieved gaze towards the moon. She allowed a sad smile to grace her features.
Thirteen more years. She’ll be back, and Celestia can finally apologize. She can finally tell Luna how much she loves her.
Celestia noticed the buzzing in the back of her mind has not left since the dream. She closed her eyes, and examined the odd feeling.
Her eyes then shot open. It’s an alert to a sensory spell in Sundial’s bedroom!
Sundial is in pain!
--0--
The four-year-old Sundial is not having a nice night. He has tossed and turned in bed all night, but he can’t seem to get comfortable.
That, and his eyes and ears ache. His eyes feel like something is just behind them, pushing outwards. Closing them does not help. His ears feel like they’re being roughly picked by a unicorn’s horn. Not a pleasant experience.
Sundial puts a pillow over his head, trying to relax his eyes. The ticking wall-mounted clock still resides within his bed, on a pillow to his right. Sundial realizes that no matter how hard he presses the pillow to his ears, he can still hear the ticking perfectly. He usually has to sleep with his head right next to the clock to hear it tick, but now he can hear it no matter what.
It used to be soothing.
Now it has become… painful.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick!
Tock!
Tick!
Tock!
Tick!
Tock!
TICK!
TOCK!
Sundial pressed the pillow as hard as he could into his ears, but the sound would not go away. It only became louder. Soon, other sounds were becoming loud. The fabric of the pillow case rubbing against his fur sounded like an earthquake. He could hear a low organic rumbling, as if he was in someone’s stomach.
A drum beat sounded, steadily growing in volume, gaining in tempo as well.
TICK!
BUM-BUM!
TOCK!
BUM-BUM!
TICK!
BUM-BUM!
TOCK!
BUM-BUM!
It took a moment for Sundial to realize that the drum beat was his own heartbeat. The rumbling his digestive track, the ticking becoming louder, yet smaller ticks and grinds could be heard. He listened, clenching his eyes shut and grinding his teeth as the orchestra made of his own body and a clock continued to pound on his eardrums.
His eyes became even sorer, and despite keeping his eyes shut, the world was not black. The world turned gray, steadily increasing in brightness. He could see wrinkles in the gray, and he could focus upon the texture of the gray. He chances with opening his eyes, to see that his room is now bright. Everywhere there should be darkness, the color is simply drained away. The moonlight tinges things with a familiar blue, but places of darkness remain bright. Simply… monochromatic. Sundial’s eyes continue to hurt as he focuses on the rug, seeing individual red bristles turned gray in darkness. He can see a small insect, flying around the room. Sundial’s eyes track the little thing, and can see all of the details on it as if he were looking at it through a microscope.
Said insect is on the other side of the room.
Said insect is a gnat.
He can hear it buzzing, he can here each individual stroke of its wing and the air moving around it as if it was a dragon. He can hear the scuttling of what could be a beetle on the outside of his window. The beat of his own heart pierces his eardrums, beating against the insides of his head like hammers.
He clenches his eyes shut, and the world turns gray yet again, with the odd texture taking over his vision. It was then that Sundial understood what the gray was.
The inside of his eyelid.
He did not dwell on that, as his mind was far too busy dealing with the pain in his ears. He could hear… everything. Every single little thing going on in his body. Every single insect’s buzzing and scuttling. He could hear more drum beats, and breaths. He could hear the heartbeats of other ponies in the castle. He could hear their breathing, their mumbling. No, not just the castle, the city.
A night silent for everypony else became the loudest thing in the world for Sundial. He wanted to scream in pain, he wanted to cry, but he kept quiet, cringing in pain the whole time. He did not want to know what it felt like to hear his own scream like this.
He could hear the clatter of a massive glass object slamming against something wooden, followed by the massive splash of a tsunami. A giant trumpeted curses from atop a mountain, his voice mightier than a dragon roar.
Across the city of Canterlot, somepony dropped an inkwell. That pony followed up by quietly muttering curses.
Sundial’s hearing dialed, he could hear individual houses, he could hear other’s heartbeats. It seemed that his hearing selected random locations and trumpeted their sounds into his head. He could no longer hear the ticking of his clock. He couldn’t hear his own heartbeat. He couldn’t hear the blood dripping from his ears, soaking into the pillows.
He heard someone stub their hoof on the other side of Canterlot, but he couldn’t hear himself screaming.
He couldn’t hear his mother teleport in the room, nor could he hear her shouting his name in panic. He could hear everything he shouldn’t, but nothing he should.
Sundial was finally shaken from his pain induced haze when he felt large hooves wrap around his torso, pulling him into an embrace with his significantly larger mother. Suddenly, he could hear the ticking again, he could hear his heartbeat, and even his mother’s heartbeat. Nothing else.
He opened his eyes to see that his mother’s horn was glowing, and around them there was a yellow bubble-like shield. The shield and the area around Celestia’s horn were in color, though everything else was still grayscale. Except his mom’s eyes. They were in perfect color. Her pale magenta eyes were still colored even though they shouldn’t have been. Her eyes are luminescent, he realized. Color is light… grayscale is darkness. He can see in the dark. Just not color.
He had stopped screaming, and the pain had largely stopped, but the throbbing was still there. He inwardly winced at every tick the clock within the bubble made. But slowly he was starting to like the ticking again.
TICK!
TOCK!
Tick!
Tock!
Tick!
Tock!
Tick.
Tock.
The more Sundial concentrated on the sound of the ticking, the more normal it sounded. He honed his hearing into the proper range with the focus of the clock. The ticking providing a constant that he can hone in on.
Even staring into his mother’s eyes hurt less. In their luminescence, they were so much stranger with his new sight. They always had a misty ethereal look to them, but now it seemed it kept going on forever. Sundial seemed to zero in on her ethereal irises, constantly focusing and looking further into her eyes. They are endless. Her eyes own their own little pink misty world. He could stare into them forever, and find that no matter how far his gaze focused in on them, he would never find an end point. His mother’s eyes are windows. Something to focus on. Something to hone in on.
He stopped trying to focus so hard. He tried to relax his eyes, expecting everything to blur away. Instead, his area of focus stopped analyzing her endless eyes, and stopped picking out individual hairs in her alabaster fur coat. Everything was normal again, though sharper, brighter, and a lot of grayscale where darkness should be.
He noticed his mother had yet to say a word. She simply looked at him, her gaze showing deep concern. If he had been looking earlier, he would have seen an expression nopony ever saw Celestia with. An expression of panic.
But now the pain was over. Everything was fine.
“Thanks mom.” He said in a whisper.
“What was wrong?” Celestia whispered softly enough that were his ears like they were normally, he would have missed what she said. He heard her perfectly now.
Judging from her whisper, she seemed to have grasped that the problem was sound. It’s probably why she put up the soundproof shield, after all.
“Everything was loud.” Sundial answered, his voice normal.
It was when Sundial followed Celestia’s gaze to his pillows did he realize that the entire time he had been in pain, his ears had been bleeding profusely. Both the pillow his head had been on and the pillow that had been on his head had massive splotches of blood in the middle of them. It was at this point did he feel the warm wetness that covered the fur on both sides of his face and all around his ears.
He also noticed that the pillows are frosted over.
It was after this did Sundial look around the room. Everything was frosted over in the entire room. His bed and blankets had quite a few scorch marks from electricity discharging from him during his fit of pain, but his freezing effect must have put out the flames before they could do much more than leave black rough spots.
“I’m okay now though…” Sundial trailed off.
Celestia said nothing, perhaps out of fear of upsetting his ears again. She responded by hugging Sundial closer to herself.
“Mom?” Sundial said.
“Yes, sweetie?” Her voice in the same whisper it was in before. He was too young to notice the sheer amount of distress in her quiet voice. Too young to contemplate about how he had been the first thing to scare Celestia in almost nine hundred years. She thought she was losing him. He was in so much pain…
“Can you please sleep in my bed tonight?” Sundial asked, though the tone of his voice suggested he was willing to plead if necessary.
Celestia only responded by snuggling closer to her adopted son. She couldn’t wash the blood off of the pillows or off of Sundial himself yet. She is so afraid that if she does anything besides maintain the spell and hold her son, the pain will start again.
So she snuggled into her son’s bed, Sundial wrapped in her hooves pressed against her torso.
Sundial and Celestia fell asleep on bloody pillows to the rhythmic ticking of a clock.
--0--
It had been a week since the incident. Sundial could finally sleep alone last night, without any sound cancelling barriers. He learned to hone and focus his hearing superbly, though through much trial and error. He originally tried to distract himself by painting (with a brush rather than his hooves) but eventually he got the hang of his hearing issues by himself. His mother seemed very interested in the paintings he made, though she never said why. She took them away someplace, and Sundial did not ask where.
Sundial stood by his bedroom’s window, looking down at what he could see of Canterlot’s streets. He wants to hear what they talk about on the streets. What other ponies talk about. He could just extend his hearing outwards, but he didn’t want to hear the conversations, heartbeats, breaths and hoofsteps of every pony in Canterlot. No, what Sundial was trying to do, is focus on one thing.
He didn’t know if he could do it, or if it was possible. But he felt like he should try. Like some part of him knew what he could do.
He focused his sight on two unicorn mares. Despite the fact that from the distance he was watching them from would reduce the two to mere colored splotches to regular ponies, Sundial could see them perfectly. He could see all of their details. He could even see their nostril hairs if he tried hard enough.
One of them is blue, the other one is yellowish-pink. The blue mare had a cutie mark of some kind of fruit that Sundial did not recognize, while the yellowish one’s cutie mark was hidden behind the table she sat at. A fly just landed on the table.
Sundial mentally berated himself for getting distracted by the fly, and kept looking at the mares. He felt like he was flexing muscles in his ears, though he had no idea if there were muscles to be flexing. He could feel them burn a bit from use, and different sounds were becoming apparent. A light breeze is outside. There are at least seven birds singing currently just outside his room. He can hear a stallion singing in the shower from somewhere below.
Sundial shakes his head, honing his ears back to normal range. He focused on the mares again, this time specifically on their moving mouths. Sundial could not read lips, so what they were saying was lost on him.
He tried flexing those muscles he didn’t know he had again, and heard new sounds. Different conversations droning in and out. He kept focusing in and out. In and out. Hot and cold. Trying to find a conversation that matches the lips of the two mares.
Then he found one.
“-he came into my store and just started taking stuff! I mean, just because you’re my coltfriend does not mean you can just waltz into my job and start shoplifting! What’s up with that?” The blue one was ranting.
“Wow. That is so rude!” The yellow one seemed to agree.
“I know! So I tell him to stop, and he starts getting mad at me like I’m the bad guy!”
The rest of the conversation drowned out as Sundial got a headache. His ears burned a bit, and it took a lot of effort to focus in like that. He allowed himself a prideful smile, however.
Sundial spent the next few hours just practicing spying on ponies. To his delight, he learned a few new words! Most of which he would only later find to be rather inappropriate to say to his mother. But the point was he was learning… and invading the private lives of ponies he’s never met and probably never will.
This made Sundial happy.
--0--
Celestia stood inside of the Canterlot Castle Vault, staring at the series of seven paintings her son had made.
The Canterlot Castle Vault is widely known as one of the most secure locations in Equestria, where priceless, dangerous, or powerful artifacts get stored.
It is a rather large room, and all of the walls have safes with identification numbers on them. Some of the safes held things that would cause a mortal pony to go made by simply looking at them. Some of the safes held things that could level a mountain if used improperly. Some of the safes held things like forgotten spell tomes and scrolls, some written by Star Swirl the Bearded.
Now, exactly eight of these safes held paintings made by Celestia’s adopted son.
The first one was his first painting of Nightmare Moon. Celestia only put the painting within the vault after she understood the significance of it.
See, it was weeks after the Nightmare Moon painting did Sundial start painting ponies standing in Celestia’s court room. Ponies that neither Celestia nor Sundial had seen before. Almost always the depicted pony would show up, whether it be that day, or a few weeks ahead. He then started painting small events like ponies tripping, or arguing, and other such things. They always predicted future events.
So clearly when he painted Nightmare Moon, he was predicting her return. Celestia always knew Nightmare was coming back eventually, but the painting made it far more real.
More than a year has passed, and Sundial had painted quite a lot. But ever since the Nightmare Moon painting, there had been nothing significant.
Until now.
A series of seven paintings lay before her, all of which connected in some way. The first six each depict a filly witnessing (and in one case, apparently causing) some form of rainbow. Most of which a rainbow-based explosion, it would seem.
The final painting is of these fillies, only grown into young adults. They are all being levitated in some form of magic, and five of them are wearing necklaces.
One of them, however, is wearing a very familiar tiara.
It took Celestia a few minutes of staring to come to the earth-shattering realization.
Her son had predicted who is going to bear the Elements of Harmony.
Celestia grinned. She now has physical depictions of the Element Bearers. In order for the Elements to work, the Bearers need to be in the same place and manifest them at the same time. Celestia does not know if the paintings are showing the future with or without her intervention, but she supposes it can’t hurt to be safe.
Celestia teleported out of the vault. She has no idea who the fillies are or how old they are, but she supposes she will know when to start looking. Once a rainbow explosion happens, apparently.
A rainbow explosion is pretty iconic, after all.
When that happens, she’ll have some strings to pull…
\----------/0\----------/
List of Manifested Abilities (In the order in which they were manifested/discovered.)
Telekinesis: The ability to cause kinetic energy of varying precision and strength with the mind. This ability can be used to create an invisible force thin enough to slice through various materials.
Electrical Manipulation: The ability to generate, manipulate, direct, and discharge electricity. While the host is immune to their generated electricity, they can still be harmed by electrocution from other sources.
Enhanced Memory: Similar to eidetic memory, this ability allows for perfect recall, though theoretically on a much larger scale of information storage.
Enhanced Strength: The ability to exert force several times stronger than any natural limit, regardless of muscle mass. A possible side effect of this ability could increase the durability of the user, as some feats of strength that should break the host’s own bones can be done with no injury.
Rapid Cellular Regeneration: The ability to heal at a vastly accelerated rate. This ability allows limbs and organs to be grown after they have been severed, and also displays the capability of reviving a dead host as long as nothing is hindering the healing process.
Refrigeration: The ability to significantly lower (but never raise) temperatures. Note that this ability can only function when physical contact with the target is made. The host is also immune to cold or freezing temperatures.
Abstract Precognitive Depiction: The ability to draw, paint, or otherwise visually depict future events. The inevitability of depicted predictions tends to vary.
Enhanced Hearing: The ability to detect and hone in on quiet noises from impossibly long ranges.
Enhanced Vision: The ability to see the smallest of details from impossibly long ranges regardless of light conditions.
