A young girl who never got a chance to live is gifted that chance in the form of a new body, life, and brother. How will this old soul take to her strange world?
A young girl, having been robbed of her childhood and very life by illness finds herself given a second chance in a strange world and with an even stranger body. With a new life, family, and even a brother, she tries to cope with the bizarre world she's found herself in while also trying to embrace her role and become worthy of the gift she has been given. Being a princess can be hard however, even if it's only an honorary title, especially when you're the twin sister of Prince Blueblood.
I focus on my breathing; a steady in and out that perhaps took more effort than it should have, though I wasn’t really sure. Breathing has always been a bit of a chore for me for as long as I can remember. It will always be like this, just like how I will always have the same bad food to eat or the same white ceiling tiles to count.
Mom and Dad tell me not to think that way, that it only hurts my recovery, but I know the truth. I’m never going to leave this hospital. Oh sure, maybe I’ll be transferred to a different room or another place altogether, but they are all the same to me at this point. I’ve spent the first twelve years of my life here, and I’ll probably still be here twelve years from now.
… Or maybe not. It was hard to tell how long I had left, but twelve years seemed like wishful thinking. Would I even want it to go on for so long?
I shake my head. Those thoughts would only get Mom crying again. Somehow, she always seems to know when I think such things. "You’ll be better soon, sweetie, you just have to have hope," she would say, and I would always smile back and tell her I know.
It would be nice if I could talk to her more often, even if it was the same every time, but my parents are always working. They have to on account of all the medical bills. I asked dad one time if I was costing them too much. He seemed shocked and told me never, that he’d give everything to make me better. “You shouldn’t be worrying about money, what even brought this on?”
I showed him the book I had been reading at the time, a high school economics textbook from the hospital's pitiful collection. I had burned through all the fiction they had and was forced to move on to whatever they had lying around. Admittedly, I never really try to remember what I read anymore and just sort of do it to pass the time, but that musty old textbook unsettled me.
My dad simply stared for a minute before chuckling. “Sometimes I think you’re too smart,” He reached forward and patted my head. “You’ll do great things when you get out of here. I just know it.”
I didn’t really think I was that smart, but then again, I hardly ever spent time with other children, so I didn’t actually know for sure. Instead of voicing this, I gave my father a shy smile and accepted the praise, spending the rest of his visit going over what I had read with him.
Eventually however, he had to leave and I was left alone again. The next visit was two days later from both of my parents. I had been nearing the end of the textbook at that point as I had hoped to impress Mom and Dad for when they came, but Mom wasn’t too thrilled with my choice of literature.
“Oh sweetie, you shouldn’t be reading such boring stuff. You should be doing things that make you happy, it’ll help make you feel better.” She had grabbed the TV remote and turned on the old tube television that sat up high in the corner of the room. Flipping through the channels, she stopped on some cartoon about three heavily deformed girls fighting a monkey.
I never watch the TV because of how loud it is. The sound and flashing colors always gave me headaches. Mom sometimes forgot that on account of how little she could see me. I didn’t blame her for it of course; she worked a lot more than my dad and just didn’t have the time. Dad blamed her though when he snatched the remote out of her hand and flipped the TV off.
I don’t remember much after that; just the sounds of their fighting and knowing I was the cause. I couldn’t stop the machines by my bedside going off or the nurse rushing in. By the time I woke up, it was already night and my parents had left.
From the family album my mom brought in once, I knew they used to be really happy together. There wasn’t one photo of the two of them without wide, loving smiles before I started to show up. After that, each smile seemed to fade more and more and their eyes dimmed with fatigue.
I wish they could be happy like before I was born. They didn’t deserve to have such a broken daughter weighing them down. It was like my sickness was theirs too; like I was a cancer to them sucking away their lives. Maybe I should just be cut out of the world; stop hurting the ones I love.
A familiar beeping rang through the room, but it hardly seems to be there as my eyes grow heavy. Breathing is a particularly hard challenge today as my eyelids droop. A strange sensation overtakes my body, like pins and needles as it feels like I'm floating out of my bed. Despite the darkness creeping up from the corners of my vision, the ceiling lights begin to glow painfully bright, but I can't look away from them.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen the stars, was this what they were like? I wonder if I can make a wish right now. If I can, I wish things were different. I wish that I wasn’t sick and worthless, that I could finally stop dragging my family down, that I could actually make someone smile a happy smile for once instead of the pitying ones from the nurses or the tired ones from my parents.
I wish I could have another life where I wasn’t such a burden.
And maybe for whoever it was standing over me to stop trying to crush my chest in. That would be nice too.
Everything feels strange, but not bad. I must have fainted again, but I don’t understand where I could be. I thought maybe I was dreaming, but, for how surreal it is, this still feels real. It feels like I’ve been completely submerged in a warm bath, but I don’t feel like I’m drowning.
Even though it’s cramped and dark, I’m not scared. Actually, I feel… safe, and that doesn’t make sense. That scares me and I start to panic, flailing my limbs weakly. It doesn’t accomplish much as my arms and legs, which feel different somehow, bounce off the walls of my confines without doing any damage. What does happen however is that my world shifts suddenly as if whatever I’m in is moving.
While being jostled about, I bump into something that is decidedly not the smooth, rounded walls of whatever I’m in. It’s more firm and moves in response to my contact. Whatever it was actually punches me in the face. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s still unsettling. I’m not alone. Someone else is in here with me.
I have so many questions, but I’m too exhausted to try and find the answers. I want to stay awake, don’t want to fall asleep in this strange place, but my body betrays me and I slowly lose consciousness. What’s happening to me?
When I wake up next, I know it’s been more than just a few hours, but I’m not sure how. The first thing I notice is how less space there is in my balloon of a room. Whoever it is in here with me is pressed up against my body and I try to push them away. I realize then that they are hugging me and I ease up. There’s no harmful intent in the embrace, they’re just sleeping it seems.
It comes as a shock when I realize I’ve begun hugging them back. Even though they’re a stranger, the gesture seems right and I feel the other snuggle closer to me. A smile pulls at my lips, which feels decidedly less right.
It’s as if my face has been deformed, elongated into something inhuman. My grip tightens in panic, and I realize I can’t feel my fingers. My arms end in stumps and a quick attempt at wiggling my toes tells me the same is true for my legs.
Once again, sleep comes to steal me away. I try to fight it, this is no time for sleep, but I can’t and the darkness around me grows a little darker.
I’ve awoken several more times since then, each time a little more cramped, each time another difference noticed. Whatever I am now, it’s not human, but the panic has begun to fade. Whoever is in here with me, they keep me grounded. It’s strange, I’ve not even spoken with them, have no idea who or what they are, but they still bring me comfort.
I have an idea of what might be happening, though it seems outrageous. One of the books I read over the years of being bedridden was a medical textbook. I remember it was disturbing, especially in that it helped me realize just how much was wrong with my body, but it still helped pass the time, which was better than the endless boredom its absence promised.
It made me squeamish for other reasons though too, like the section on reproduction. Mom had been pretty upset when I started asking her questions about that particular topic, but with some prompting from my dad, the two decided to give me the talk. Dissecting the flowery presentation, I understood the gist of where babies came from, and more importantly where they first grew.
It’s insane, but the more I think of what a womb would be like, the more my imagination came in line with my current predicament. Testing the hypothesis, I discovered that I did indeed have a cord of sorts where this body’s belly button should have been. Remembering the shrinking space around me, I realize perhaps I was growing instead. And the occasional shift and sense of movement could be explained by me literally being inside someone else.
It’s only the impossibility of the situation that gives me doubt. I might have read something about the idea of being born again, but I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to remember anything from before. Plus, if this was really happening to me, then what happened to get me here?
As soon as the thought comes, an answer follows, and I feel like I’m going to shatter. What is the last thing I can remember…? The bright light and the wish, but something else too. The feeling, the encroaching darkness… Did I really die? Did I really just fade like that? So sudden without even realizing it.
I always thought the day wasn’t far off, but also that there would be more warning. I wanted to spend my final moments with my parents, to tell them that I loved them and that I was sorry. I know they would say there was nothing to be sorry for, but that didn’t change how I felt. I was nothing but a burden to others in my last life.
The wish… Maybe… maybe my wish was granted. My parents will be better off without me, and maybe, if this is a second life, I can be more than just a burden. The thought is equal parts uplifting and bittersweet, but before I can dwell on it much longer, I begin to fall asleep again. I suppose waiting will answer all my questions eventually.
My next awakening is nowhere near as peaceful as the others as I’m squeezed and twisted from all sides. It's all happening so fast that I can’t think. My companion disappears first and I search wildly for them, and soon, I follow after. The comforting darkness and warmth that I had grown so used to is ripped away and the first touch of air on my new skin feels frigid.
I open my eyes for the first time in what felt like forever, but the world is a blur. It isn’t quite colorblindness, but all I can really make out is the stark contrast between light and dark. I can see shapes and edges, but it’s all so confusing.
I’m scared.
The world is so loud and the weight of gravity feels foreign. I’m picked up, carried in the crook of somebody’s arm, but I don’t know them. I want my sibling, but I don’t know where they are.
I’m weak and helpless and I scream. My own voice adds to the noise, but I can’t stop. I hardly cried before, having come to terms with my fate already, but now I’m wailing uncontrollably.
It’s not until I’m placed in a new pair of arms that I begin to calm. I feel a small touch and know immediately who it is. I grasp out, holding my sibling with all of my small might as a tired but content voice whispers comforting words to us. A distant part of my mind notes that it doesn’t understand the words, but I’m too tired to care
I’m utterly spent and I soon find myself falling asleep. As my eyelids droop, I try my hardest to see my sibling for the first time. All I can make out are two pools of blue in a sea of bright white staring back at me, but I smile anyway. I think they smile back.
Ornate Garden couldn't take her eyes off of them; the little miracles in her hooves, staring in awe as their chests rose and fell with every breath. A gentle hoof came to rest on her shoulders, and she was finally able to break her gaze away from her children.
"They're beautiful," her husband, Blueblood the 16th, whispered with a proud smile as he looked down on his unicorn foals.
"They are," she agreed with tears in her eyes. Their coats, inherited from their father were only a shade different from each other with the colt's being the brighter. Their manes were their mother's however, with her daughter having a lighter gold compared to her brother's darker locks.
Before they had fallen asleep, Garden had gotten a glimpse of their eyes, the boy's a brilliant blue like his father's while her daughter's eyes shone a light pink reminiscent of her own coat.
Garden and her husband had discussed names for whether they had a boy or a girl, and seeing the two beautiful twins so similar to each other, the new mother was glad that both ideas could be put to use. "My brave little Blueblood the 17th... and my precious Pureblood."
When the nurse came to take the foals away to get a medical checkup, Garden almost couldn't let them go. "Come on, dear, let the doctors do their job. You've done yours for now. Rest. You deserve it."
Reluctantly, she agreed, but still couldn't help the little flutter of worry when her children left her view. When she got the two of them home, she wasn't going to let them out of her sight for an instant.
Just re-watched Baby Cakes. Can you believe they were only a month old in this episode. Foals grow up fast, apparently.
My new bedroom is much better than my old one. It might seem obvious since I used to live in a drab hospital room, but it’s actually a massive understatement. My new room is huge, the walls are painted a light blue with cloud motifs and lacy white curtains hang over a large window. The floor is scattered with a wide assortment of toys and stuffed animals, and while none of them are electronic, each one is a work of art. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were all hand-made and unique.
Even the mobile above my crib is beautiful, all glittering metal and exquisitely crafted horses of every color. When it spins, it looks like a stampeding rainbow, and I find myself spending hours sometimes watching those horses prance. Maybe it’s just the novelty of it all, of not having to force air into my lungs or having natural sunlight fill the room instead of harsh, fluorescent bulbs filling the space with a constant buzz. No matter the reason, I’ve found myself not incredibly bored like I often was before even without books to help pass the time.
It’s been a couple of weeks now, and they’ve been full of bizarre experiences. Finding out I was a baby pony-unicorn thing in a world of pony-things probably being the most… shocking of the lot. Understanding a situation and truly coming to terms with it are two entirely different things, and I’ve found myself red-faced on more than one occasion. Things like nursing and diaper changes are degrading no matter how much I tell myself they are necessary.
My new dad seems pretty squeamish about the latter, if the green face he gets whenever he sees it done is any indication. My new mom always rolls her eyes at him and chuckles when he rushes out of the room, and I can’t help but do the same. The two of them love each other very much, and I’m glad to know they’re actually happy to take care of me even if I am a lot of work.
Then again, I’m sure telekinesis really helps lighten the load. Apparently, all unicorns are superheroes, which really broke my brain when I saw Mom levitating a diaper into the trash bin while simultaneously fitting me with a new one using nothing but the power of her mind. I mean really, seeing someone use an amazing gift like that to do something as mundane as changing diapers is just so strange. I actually prefer being changed by the non-unicorn ponies because, evidently, witnessing what is supposed to be an impossible feat gives me headaches.
Oh yeah, all the help my parents have might also have something to do with them being okay with caring for two babies. There’s so much help in fact that, at first, I had a little trouble knowing exactly who my parents were because of all the apparent servants they have working for them that help take care of us babies. Being fed by Mom the first time answered half of the question, but it was up in the air for Dad before I eventually pinned the white coated, silver maned stallion as our father since he spent so much time leaning over our crib and making silly faces.
They’re so nice that I try not to be too much of a burden to them and only cry when I really do need something. It’s embarrassing, but literally not being able to take care of myself makes it a necessity. It helps knowing that at least this time around, I won’t always be work for other people, and hey, diapers aren’t as bad as bedpans.
What is bad though is my progress in making heads or tails of this new language. With no one actively trying to teach it to me, I’ve been forced to figure it out by ear, which has only gotten me a pretty good guess on what words mean cute and adorable, but little else.
Still, I practice under my breath at night and during naptimes before I go to sleep; getting used to the new shape of my mouth and training my lips, tongue, and vocal cords. I don’t know when baby ponies are supposed to start speaking, but I’m guessing it’s a bit too soon for me to start blurting out what I’ve learned. I’ve decided to wait until my brother starts and to just follow his lead.
Heh, my brother. Getting used to that has probably been the highlight of my time so far. Having a brother has been wonderful. Our parents keep us together most of the time, and even though we cannot speak, he keeps the loneliness at bay. Right now, I find myself staring at him as he sleeps, pacifier bobbing in his mouth. He’s absolutely adorable. “Blueblood,” I whisper as I run a hoof through his mane. Our names, at least, were easy to pick out of the baby-talk we are constantly bombarded with. Pureblood was my own, no doubt the similarity of the two is because we are twins.
It would be weird getting used to the new name, but I think as long as I have my brother with me, I’ll be able to accept it and this new life. He’s a bit fussy and tends to wake me up just as much as our parents, but I try not to hold that against him. He’s a real baby after all, and he doesn’t know better. He squeezes his stuffed bear and my rabbit to his chest and whimpers, so I make hushing noises and scoot closer to comfort him. He tends to be pretty grabby about toys, liking to hoard them on his side of the crib, but I don’t mind since they don’t interest me anyway.
My efforts fail and he begins to cry. The smell of dirty diapers reaches my nose, and I’m pretty sure it’s not mine. Sighing, I close my eyes and wait for somebody to come in. Yes, having a brother is great, but it can also be trying at times. At least he won’t be a baby forever; he might be cute now, but he’ll be a lot more manageable when he’s older.
How could I have been so wrong? He’s only a month old, and he’s already running. I was surprised when he took his first steps a little over a week ago, but this is ridiculous. I’m actually sort of embarrassed that he’s managing so much better than I am right now. I’m the one with the memories of a past life, stationary as it was, at yet he’s only tripping up every dozen steps or so as opposed to my every five.
"Blueblood!” I try to call, the name coming out even more garbled than usual due to my panting. "Blueblood! Blueblood!” The little trouble-maker ignores me of course, laughing as he sprints down the hall and knocks another potted plant from its table. Seeing the foliage nearly whack my little brother’s head made me tense up and misstep once again, falling flat on my face.
A distant part of my mind is still trying to figure out exactly how the little pony got out of our nursery to begin with. We had both been sitting on the floor, me looking through a picture book while he sat a couple paces away playing with a choo-choo train ridden by one of his stuffed bears.
I admired the artwork in my book, following the simple storyline while listening to Blueblood’s happy giggles in the background, a content smile on my lips. Then, the giggling stopped, and when I finally noticed, I turned around to see the door swinging open and my brother running out. I’ve been chasing him for five minutes now, and can confirm two things. The first is that we live in a labyrinth, and the second is that being a responsible sister is going to be much harder than I thought.
Before I manage to pick myself up off the floor, a shadow looms over me and I am pulled into the air. Being turned around by a pair of hooves, I see one of the hornless maids staring worriedly at me, mumbling as she inspects me for injury. Another crash in the distance gets both of our attention and I quickly find myself hanging by my diaper from her mouth as she gallops down the hall.
Rounding so many corners that my eyes begin to spin, we end up in what looks like a dining room where I spot a grinning little colt running atop a long table as a stallion attempts to chase him down. Blueblood was doing surprisingly well in his game of keep-away as he sprinted from one end to the other whenever his pursuer got close.
The stallion, an older looking fellow with a noticeably greying mane, was breathing heavily as he tried to capture his ward, but it looked like he was losing hope until he spotted the maid holding me. Shouting out what I assume are instructions, the maid and stallion formulate a plan and begin a pincer maneuver on my now cornered brother.
I remain still so that the mare can focus on the task at hand and breathe a sigh of relief. It seems the chase would soon be over and brother would soon be safe. Honestly, I was looking forward to being taken back to the crib at this point for a nap; I haven’t gotten this much exercise in over a decade.
As they close in on the little pony, his gaze snaps back and forth and he frowns. Then, before my very eyes, the impossible happens. Blueblood’s tiny horn begins to glow a dark blue before he is engulfed by a bubble of the same color and disappears with an audible pop.
For a brief moment, I believe I had just witnessed my brother’s death, but, as we all stare dumbfounded, the colt comes dashing from underneath the tablecloth, laughing his head off as he makes his great escape.
Once again I find myself with a headache, though this one bordering on a migraine, from witnessing the impossible; my brother, a mere infant of one month, can apparently teleport. A baby can bend space and time as if it were a mere plaything.
What sort of crazy world am I living in? The question does not feel nearly as redundant as it should by this point.
Okay, my brother might be some sort of eldritch being of limitless power. I’m not one-hundred percent certain since he still poops in a diaper and burps up on himself, but no normal baby should be able to walk through walls, disappear, and make grown ponies fly on a semi-regular basis.
To be fair, I suppose most of the adult unicorns can probably do that last one too since they’re always levitating something or other, but I’ve yet to see any of them pull off the insane, reality-warping stunts of Blueblood. I also haven’t seen any of them show remotely the level of concern and awe such feats should warrant.
As a matter of fact, they seem prepared for it. I’ve spotted servants with helmets and war paint, lookouts stationed outside the doors and windows, and neither my brother nor I are changed or fed without at least one other pony present for backup, usually sporting an oversized butterfly net.
To put it simply, the mansion has become a mad house.
Even my patience with Blueblood is wearing thin, if not for my own sanity and the constant ache behind my horn, than for the health of our caretakers. I’ve noticed frayed manes and tired eyes on more than a few of them, and that includes Mom and Dad. I still try to be as considerate as I can, only crying for my needs to be met when my brother is already being fed or changed, but it has become a lot harder. About the only time I can rest now is when Blueblood is asleep.
I’m only trying to help, but I think the madness my brother has wrought has already gotten to the adults, because, despite his actions, I’m the one they look at with confusion and worry. I don’t understand, I haven’t set anything on fire or flipped any furniture, so why did my new Mom start to tear up when she held me this morning?
What am I doing wrong?
Ornate sat quietly as her mother sipped tea across from her. Despite her age, the older mare still looked beautiful with her wavy gold mane and bright yellow coat, only crow's feet giving away that she was no longer a young mare. Over the last six weeks, Ornate had been more than glad to host her mother, the two sharing all sorts of foal stories and laughs. As her own foals grew more and more however, Ornate began to notice a distinct difference between her tales to those of Golden Garden.
At least, for one of her children that is.
“So, have the magical surges started happening? I’d say it’s about that time,” Golden finally spoke after several minutes of silence. “With how tired you look, I’d say the answer's obvious.”
“Oh, yes,” Ornate responded, trying to sound engaged as she smiled. “Little Blueblood has been quite the hoof-full this last week, just like you said he would be. I honestly didn’t believe all the stories I always heard about unicorn foals until now.”
Golden chuckled with a pitying head shake, “Nopony ever does until their foal turns them green with magenta spots.” The older mare gave her daughter a mock glare. “You scared me half to death with that one, little missy. I thought it would be permanent.”
That got a giggle from the younger mare. “Did I really do that? Little Blueblood has been driving us all up the walls trying to run free through the house, but I’m glad to say everypony is still the right color, at least.” She breathes a sigh and stares into her cup. “For all the mischief he gets up to, Bluey couldn’t be prouder in his son. He thinks it’s a sign of great potential.”
“Oh, I’ve heard that before,” Golden said with a roll of her eyes. “I swear, for all the parents out there who think they have the cutest foal in the world, they are nowhere near as obnoxious as a unicorn father thinking their foal is the next Star Swirl.
“Your father was the same way with your older brother,” she continued, taking a drink of tea, “The lad makes my petunias grow to the size of carriages, and all that lughead can do is gab about how our son had the green hoof of a hundred earth pony farmers. Meanwhile, I’m trying to keep the flowers from toppling the house over by leaning against it.”
“Well, Sunlight is a pretty successful botanist now, so…” Ornate voice trailed off with a smirk, getting her mother to glare.
“Don’t let your father ever hear you defending him like that. He already thinks he’s always right; he doesn’t need you kids siding with him too. He’d be insufferable.” The serious expression only lasted a few seconds before both girls burst into giggles.
“So, what about Pureblood? I can hardly imagine the little angel causing trouble, but you know what they say about the quiet ones.”
Ornate sobered instantly. “Oh… She’s… she’s doing great. So well-behaved. Hasn’t caused a bit of trouble yet.”
Golden gave her daughter a strange look. “That’s… good.” Leaning in, she asked, concerned, “Is she doing all right? She isn’t sick or anything, is she?”
“No, or at least, we don’t think so.” Ornate once again broke eye contact to stare into her teacup. “She doesn’t have a fever or cough, and she eats regularly too. She’s… maybe not sleeping as well as she used to. Or smiling as much.” She sighed. “She’s hardly touched one of her picture books lately either, even though I bought her three new ones.”
“Foals are a fickle sort, dear,” the older mare comforted. “Why, I remember you used to love mashed carrots, couldn’t get enough of them. It was carrots for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You’d turn your head to anything else until one day, you stopped liking carrots. I was at my wit's end trying to get you to eat. Then one day I ask Sunlight to feed you while I was busy, and I come to find you munching on mashed peas. Peas! You hated peas, and yet, there Sunlight was, making silly choo-choo noises and you were just gobbling that goop up.”
There was the barest hint of a smile on Ornate’s lips, but it did little to change her melancholy look. “You’re trying to say it’s a phase.”
“Exactly right,” her mother answered with a nod. “I’m not saying you should ignore it completely, but, well, teenagers aren’t the only ponies prone to such things. Perhaps little Pureblood will start feeling better on her own.”
Ornate sighed. “It’s not just the behavior, Mom, there’s something else… Mom, have you ever heard of a foal not having magical surges by their first month?”
Golden Garden blinked owlishly for a few seconds. “Well, by a few days, I suppose, but never more than a week.” She tilted her head curiously. “Are you saying Pureblood hasn’t been surging? Honey, it doesn’t necessarily mean something is wrong if a unicorn foal isn’t causing spectacular mayhem with their surges. It might be a sign of below-average magic strength, but that’s hardly something to be worried about.”
“That’s just it, I’d be happy if she cast any magic, any at all, but, Mom… She hasn’t shown even a single spark yet.”
Golden couldn’t stop the small gasp. “Are you certain? Perhaps you simply weren’t there, or-”
“The help hasn’t noticed anything either, and we’ve all been keeping an eye out for any sign.” Tears started to form in the corner of the younger mare’s eyes. “Mom,” she whispered, “what’s wrong with my baby?”
I’m trying not to panic, but the all too familiar place my pony parents have brought me to is stirring up memories I’d rather have kept behind me. The memories, and the thought that they will become my future, are terrifying.
I’ve already seen the doctors, ponies in white coats who had no sense of personal space, and been put through tests of some sort. They shined bright lights in my eyes and ears, moved things through the air for me to track, and even made silly faces to get a reaction from me. I tried to give a smile at that, but it was obviously forced. That flimsy smile dropped completely when they covered me with wired sensors and flipped on a huge machine. It wasn’t painful at least, but I was concerned by the incredibly long sheet of paper that spewed out onto the floor.
What sort of thing could have been written on those pages to warrant so much? What did they say about me?
My mother holds me tighter as I shake, whispering what I’m sure are meant to be comforting words in my ear, but I can’t stop staring at the dull white walls or get the sharp scent of antiseptic out of my nose. A part of me is saying I should get used to them now and get it over with. After all, these familiarities would be my only comfort for however long this life would last.
Another part of me argues that I feel fine, better than I ever did in my last life, that I could breathe without thought and my body never ached. But… that wasn’t true was it? I had been ignoring it, brushing it off as nothing, but my head had been hurting practically since I was born.
Was this some sort of cruel joke? To have to spend an entire life ill, a burden on those who foolishly loved a broken girl until the day I broke their hearts, and then have to go through it all again?
A doctor enters the waiting room and my pony dad rises to meet him, they exchange words, Mom asks questions herself, and judging from the raising volume of Dad’s voice and the growing tension in Mom’s frame, it’s not good news. Tears that had been building in my mother’s eyes finally begin to fall and my heart clenches. Soon, the tears I’d been holding back all day fall to match hers.
My understanding of the language has improved, but I still don’t know what the doctor has said, which is a shame since I would like to know how long I have…
No.
I am not going to let it end this way. Not again. My first mom always told me that optimism would help me recover, and I am determined to do so. I will face whatever is wrong head on and overcome it. No more just accepting my fate and waiting. If this is a second chance, then I’ll prove I deserve it. If this is a cruel joke, then I’ll teach the prankster they messed with the wrong girl.
Turning in my mother’s grasp, I looked her in the eye. This is where I’ll start; I won’t let these ponies cry on account of me, and it starts now. Drudging up what little of the language I’ve learned, I return the comforting words this mom is always soothing me with, and hope she understands that I won’t leave her, Dad, or my brother without a fight.
“Well, I have some good news for you,” the doctor spoke, both parents listening with rapt attention. “Your daughter is in perfect physical health, and there doesn’t seem to be anything mentally wrong with her either. Actually, in the latter’s regard, she might even be advanced.”
“That’s… good to hear,” Ornate said, voice soft, “but…”
“But what about the magic then?” Blueblood the 16th demanded. “If she’s in perfect health, then why hasn’t she produced even a glimmer yet?”
At this, the doctor looked down at a clipboard in his hoof, frowning slightly. “Yes… there is that.” Breathing a sigh, he met the stallion’s gaze. “I’m afraid, while a healthy filly in every other regard, your daughter suffers from mageiasthenia, meaning her magical reserves are extremely shallow.”
Blueblood tensed. “What do you mean shallow? She’s a direct descendant of Princess Platinum; one of the strongest unicorn lines in Equestria for crying out loud!”
“Sir, please calm down,” the doctor tried, getting the larger stallion to flare his nostrils. “As for how this has happened, well… we don’t know. The condition is rare, going far beyond simply being below average in magical strength, and so it hasn’t been well-studied.”
While Blueblood looked like he was about to snap again, Ornate cut it. “You’re saying she has less magic than normal. How- how much less?”
Looking back to his clipboard, he frowned slightly. “It’s… practically non-existent, a mere fraction of what would be expected of a pony her age.”
“And why are we just hearing of this now?” Blueblood interrupted. “Shouldn’t you doctors have noticed something like this when she was born?”
“Not necessarily,” he answered. “I of course pulled up the examination results from her birth since they make up the entirety of her medical history, and I can see why no red flags popped up. Her magic at birth was only slightly below what is to be expected of a newborn. I’m not sure if you are aware of this, but ponies of any tribe are born with practically no magic both for their safety and that of their mother. It’s not until a foal is safely out of the womb for a month that their magic begins to rapidly grow.”
“That’s all very interesting, doctor,” Blueblood nearly growled, “But what about my daughter? How can this be fixed? What’s the treatment?”
The doctor looked hesitant, but answered. “I’m sorry, but there is no treatment. All that can be done for Pureblood now is to manage the symptoms until her magic completes whatever growth it will and hope it’s enough for her to live without discomfort.”
While Blueblood stumbled back a step, stunned, Ornate squeezed her filly closer as if to protect her and asked, “Symptoms? Discomfort? W-what are you talking about?”
“When you came in, you told me of Pureblood’s sudden change in behavior, that it started roughly two weeks ago, yes?” Ornate nodded in answer. “About the same time her brother began having his magical flares?” Another nod. “While mageiasthenia may not be a well-understood condition, the effects it has have been documented.
“Scientists believe that the near lack of magical energy within the afflicted causes, at least in part, for them to be hypersensitive to magic in their environment, often causing them some form of discomfort when exposed to high magical pressure. With her current reserves, the magic released from even low-level spells probably cause her some degree of pain, and with a unicorn foal surging right next to her, it’s no wonder she’s been acting strangely.”
Ornate gasps and begins to cry. “You-you mean I’ve been hurting my daughter by using magic near her? But I’ve never noticed- I-I would have-“
“Mrs. Garden, please don’t blame yourself. There was no way to have known and, honestly, things like small-scale levitation probably didn’t affect her much at all.” The doctor consoled. It didn’t seem to work however as the mare kept crying.
That is, until little Pureblood squirmed in her mother’s grip and looked up at her with wet, but determined eyes. What she did next shocked every pony in the room as she leaned up, wrapped her tiny hooves around the mare’s neck, and said, “Hush, Mommy, don’t cwy. Pewblood is hewe. Hush.”
As she ran her hooves up and down Ornate’s neck, making soothing sounds, the mother couldn’t help but cry a little louder, though now it was through laughter. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry.” Pulling the filly away, she kissed her right below her horn and smiled. “I love you, Pureblood.”
Ornate looked over as she felt a hoof on her shoulder, seeing her husband with a tired, but happy smile. “We both do,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss his wife on the temple before doing the same to Pureblood. “And we always will.”
The filly giggled, reaching up to catch her father’s face and kissing his chin with a exclamation of, “Daddy!”
At that moment, Ornate Garden felt a weight be lifted from her withers. The mare knew then that, no matter what life threw at them, at her daughter, they would get through it together, and her beautiful, bright little filly would outshine the stars themselves.
Hope the tense-shifts aren't too confusing. Chapter's meant to cover a lot of time will probably be written this way.
Things… aren’t as bad as I feared. As a matter of fact, they’re pretty good. It’s been months since my visit to the hospital and saying my first words, and there have been a lot of changes. The first, admittedly, was kind of hard to swallow, and that was Blueblood and I being put in separate rooms as soon as we got home.
I had feared that perhaps whatever was wrong with me was putting my brother at risk; that maybe I had some contagious disease, but my parents never stopped visiting me or holding me, so I began to second-guess that conclusion. Later, I started to notice two other changes in my life, and those were that nobody used magic around me anymore, and I hardly ever had headaches.
The connection hadn’t been made until one day when Blueblood came barging into my room, spotted me in my crib, and actually levitated me through the air to himself so that he could squeeze me in a hug. I returned the embrace, ignoring the pain, and mumbled his name. When I felt tears on my shoulder and heard what must have been an attempt at my own I squeezed him tighter. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until he was in my hooves again.
Mom and Dad barged in soon after and had to pry Blueblood off of me, but neither one of us made it easy on the adults as we clung to each other. It wasn’t until my brother’s horn lit up right next to mine that I released my hold with a cry, clinging to my throbbing skull.
After that, Dad scooped up a wide-eyed Blueblood and made a hasty retreat while Mom began rocking me back and forth. Though short, the whole ordeal was exhausting, and I fell asleep. It was later that night, after I had woken up with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling that I pondered the day’s events and began to figure things out. Though I didn’t know what it was at the time, I realized that the force unicorns used to perform their impossible feats must have been the source of my suffering, and the pieces began to come together.
I was able to learn more of my situation later thanks to another change in my routine life. Having spoken a full sentence, even if it was mostly regurgitating something I had heard said to me and Blueblood countless times before, marked me as a prodigy in the eyes of my parents. I had wanted to avoid such an outcome as I’m hardly deserving of such a title, but I cannot argue the benefits it has afforded me.
Practically from the moment we returned, there has been an adult trying to get me to repeat their words, and with damage already done from my spur of the moment speech, I’ve obliged them. While this has gotten me more than a few strange looks from some of the house’s staff, there have been others who have gladly jumped on the bandwagon.
Most diligent of all my impromptu teachers, though, has been my mother. She actually goes through the effort to hold up the objects she’s naming and mimes the verbs she’s teaching me. Thanks to her, my vocabulary has practically exploded overnight and I find myself practicing with every free moment to try and remember even a fraction of what she’s crammed into my noggin. It was during one of her lessons that I learned the name of a unicorn's power.
The pink mare was as enthusiastic as ever as she got me to say new words, releasing a thrilled squee whenever she succeeded. It was with eagerness that she searched the room for another object to name, her eyes landing on the pillow in my crib before attempting to float it over to us. As soon as her horn began to glow, I winced ever so slightly, and she froze. The light gone from her horn, she was cradling me and apologizing before the pillow even hit the bed.
“M’okay, Mommy,” I told her, rubbing my temple.
“I’m so sorry, Pure, I forgot. Mommy won’t do it again,” she said in response, placing me back onto the play mat. She tilted my head back to get a look at me. “Maybe we should take a break from practice, hmm? Do you want to look at one of your picture books?”
“M’okay,” I reaffirmed, “Keep learning.” My determined face was apparently more comical than I would have liked, because Mom burst into giggles, hoof rising to her lips.
“Okay, okay, what should you learn next, my little scholar?”
Though I could tell the question was more to herself than to me, I couldn’t help but ask, “What’s that?”
“What’s what, sweetie?” she said, looking around the room.
Scrunching up my face, I thought hard on how to get across what I meant. “What’s… that? What’s light?”
As I poked my own horn and then pointed at hers, her eyes lit up in recognition before a small frown pulled at her lips. “That’s… The light is Mommy’s magic, sweetie.”
“Magic?” I tried the word, rolling it around my mouth. “What’s… magic?”
“Oh, it’s very… complicated.” She was obviously struggling, so I tried to help.
“Magic makes stuff fly?”
“It can,” she answered after a moment.
“Blueblood do magic more than fly.”
“Yes… Your brother does more with magic than make stuff fly. Magic can do very much, sweetie.”
I tilted my head at that. “Magic hurts ponies?”
“What? No! Magic should not hurt ponies!”
“But… magic hurt me?”
Her entire body sagged at that. “Yes, magic does hurt you…”
That was all I needed to prove my hypothesis true, but it didn’t make me feel better. So I was different, wrong, and a burden. Even though I had thought as much up until then, the confirmation still hurt, but I tried to grab hold of what optimism I could. I was alive, and hoped it would remain that way for the foreseeable future. Maybe it wasn’t even that bad a condition to have?
I didn’t know everything, but decided for the time not to push the subject; my vocabulary wasn’t nearly expansive enough to delve into that conversation, and it seemed the topic wasn’t one Mom was comfortable with discussing with her baby. So, when she tried to change the subject with a new word, I didn’t fight it. I would come to learn everything I needed to know about my condition eventually; it was something parents couldn’t keep from their sick children no matter how much they wanted to.
“Hey there, sweetie, there’s somepony here to see you,” my mother calls, pulling me from my memories. Turning from the tea party I was having with some stuffed animals, something I shamefully admit to doing sometimes when alone, I see my mom standing by the door with a big grin on her face. A second later, I see a little white muzzle peek around the corner between her legs before a pristine blur tackles me to the floor.
“Blueblood!” I shout in surprise, hugging the giggling foal back. The colt lays a sloppy kiss on my cheek, blowing bubbles and tickling me, before hopping to his hooves and darting back a few paces. Climbing less gracefully to my own hooves, I can’t stop grinning when I realize what my brother is playing at.
That he’s more agile than me, that he can use magic in ways that I can hardly fathom, that doing so would be a literal pain. None of that matters as I scrape a hoof across the ground and charge. I am going to wrangle me a little pony today.
Ornate watched with a soft smile as her foals ran around the room without a care in the world. Blueblood’s surges had started settling down recently and she felt it was safe for them to spend some time together. Celestia knew her little colt needed it.
Ever since the incident nearly three months ago, Blueblood had been suffering bouts of depression where he would cry for hours and refuse any care or comfort. It broke both parents’ hearts to see the colt so inconsolable, especially when the reason for it was both obvious and undoable.
There was no doubt that little Blueblood missed his sister terribly, but they just couldn’t afford to let him near her while his magic was so volatile. Now though, the two frolicked about the room as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
Pureblood tripped, landing hard on her chin, and Ornate made to move to her side before seeing Blueblood skid to a stop and whirl around as his sister tried to pick herself up. His horn sparked, the little filly fell once again with a wince, and the light immediately extinguished itself. An intense feeling of pride washed over Ornate Garden as she watched her son march over and nudge his sister into a seated position.
Pure for her part, looked like she could use the break as she had flushed cheeks and was panting slightly. Perhaps Ornate was focusing too much on the little filly’s learning and not enough on letting her get fresh air and exercise. Thinking about it, Ornate had been treating her daughter like she was made of glass ever since the hospital.
Blueblood had been taken out to her gardens to play plenty of times by his father when he wasn’t throwing a tantrum for his missing sibling. Perhaps Pure would enjoy the sun, too?
“How are they doing?” a deep voice whispered beside her, causing the mare to jump slightly.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” reprimanded Ornate as she swatted her husband on the shoulder.
“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized with a chuckle, stepping closer to look into the room. What he saw warmed his heart. His son, staring at his winded sister in concern, looked around the room a moment before spotting one of her books with a grin. Dashing over to it, the colt was back at his sister’s side in an instant to plop the book down and babble as he pointed at it.
He wanted Pureblood to look through the book with him.
“They’re so precious together,” Ornate said, pride swelling even more at little Blueblood’s actions. She knew from personal experience how much the colt disliked books, often tossing them aside whenever presented with them to play with his toys instead. Yet here he was, offering to do something he hated just to make his sister happy and let her catch her breath. At that moment, Ornate knew her son would grow up to be a fine stallion.
“Yes, they are precious,” said Blueblood the 16th, leaning in to kiss his wife on the cheek.
To his surprise however, the mare pulled away. “Don’t think I’m not still mad at you. You fired one of our oldest maids without consulting me.”
Blueblood’s face became stern. “I’m not going to apologize for that. Daisy may have worked here for nearly six years, but that does not make her exempt from punishment.”
“But she was so good with little Blueblood; she was his favorite nanny.” Ornate argued back.
“I stand by my decision,” Blueblood said, jaw set.
Ornate sighed and shook her head, gaze returning to her children. She was upset about losing such a valuable helper, sure, but she was more upset that her husband refused to tell her why he had fired Daisy Care. She already knew, of course. It was hard not to hear the whispers, but the fact that Blueblood thought she couldn’t handle the truth irked her.
And it wasn’t like she wasn’t upset about it too; had she heard Daisy badmouth her daughter, saying she was weird, unnatural, or anything other than the beautiful little angel she was, she’d be hard-pressed not to fire her as well. She might have even slugged her had her deprecation gone any further, but that didn’t change the fact that her husband shouldn’t have gone behind her back like she was a naive filly who needed sheltering.
Besides, if they fired every worker who thought Pureblood strange, they’d have to replace a third of the staff. Ornate’s father always taught her that retaliation to insults was as good as proving those insults right to the attacker and that it was always better to let those fools see for themselves how wrong they were. That’s what Ornate was going to do.
If she sent them away now, those maids and butlers would leave thinking they were right about the youngest daughter of the Platinum line, but if they stayed, it was only a matter of time before they fell in love with the precious little filly like she had.
Watching Pureblood enthusiastically point at pictures from her book and enunciate the words for her brother to try, she felt it wouldn’t take long.
For as unbelievable as my life has become, it’s strange that this is what I’m most nervous about. As I sit motionlessly to let the maid comb and style my mane, I can’t help but worry I’ll mess something up.
“Oh, I’m jealous of you darling, your mane is so smooth and manageable,” the maid gushes as she runs a hoof through the golden locks. “Here you are, practically fresh out of bed, and there’s barely a knot. I’m at war with my bedhead every morning.”
Though I’ve gotten much better at speaking, I only hum in response as I smooth out my dress. The pink thing would have felt odd even back when I was still human, more accustomed to white gowns as I was, but wearing something so expensive when I’m a miniature horse is just plain strange. It doesn’t help that, having aced potty training, I’ve grown used to going without any garments at all, save a diaper Mom still insisted I wear to bed.
“How’s my little girl doing?” asks my mother as she enters the room. “All ready for her big day, I hope.”
I squirm around in the maid’s lap to see the mare and hold my hooves out. “Mommy!” The mare beams as she steps forward, her elegant, light-yellow sundress trailing behind her and her pink diamond earrings glittering in the room’s ambient light. As desperate as I am for some comfort right about now, I try not to ruin her ensemble when she picks me up.
“Oh, you look absolutely adorable!” she exclaims as she smooths my mane and kisses me on the nose, making me giggle. It might sound odd, but I’ve come to embrace my status as super-cute pony baby and find the attention quite enjoyable. Maybe it’s the incentive of extra delicious dessert that has me accepting the role and giving puppy dog eyes on a regular basis. After a lifetime of hospital pudding, I just can’t resist my mom’s chocolate cookies.
With another mare to help, my mane is finished in no time with a large pink bow to match my eyes and dress, and I’m whisked away to meet my brother so that we can begin the day’s event. An event in my and Blueblood’s honor. An event where many eyes, both familiar and not, will be on us.
Today is our first birthday.
Nervousness parches my tongue, and I attempt to swallow down the dryness. Besides Grandpa and Grandma, I’ve yet to meet the rest of the family, but judging by the busied servants hurrying to set up the party outside, that's going to change soon.
What if they don’t like me? Think I'm weird or can't stop looking at me with pity? When I had finally gained my bearings nearly a year ago, it was hard to come to terms with having a new family. This was especially so for my pony parents as it felt they were meant to be replacements for those I had before.
But soon, the desire to be a good daughter to them stopped feeling like an obligation; stopped feeling like it was what was expected of me by whatever force gave me this second chance, and soon became a genuine want to make them happy because I had grown to love them.
Even though it’s only been one year, I am Pureblood, daughter of Ornate Garden and Blueblood the 16th, twin sister of Blueblood the 17th, and a member of this family. That’s who I want to be, and I hope this family wants that too. I fear being the unwelcome black sheep; the one others deny relationship to.
I don’t want to be the family’s shame, and it feels like this party will be the stage I perform on to determine that.
“Mommy, I’m thirsty,” I mumble, “Can I get some water?”
“Oh? There’s punch outside if you want some?”
“Nuh-uh, I want water.” I’m telling the truth, though really I just want to delay the inevitable and a trip to the kitchen will add at least five minutes to our trip. The house is really big, after all.
“Tell you what, sweetie; I’ll bring you to your father, and go get you a sippy cup, okay?”
I nod vigorously. Dad is probably with my brother right now, and spending some time with him will calm my nerves. It takes only a minute to reach the room they are in and I can hear a commotion coming from it thirty seconds before we stop in front of the door.
“Honey, are you okay in there?” Mom calls, hoof on the handle.
“Wha-? Hey! Get back here this instant, young stallion!” Dad’s voice is cut off by the sound of something tipping over and a colt’s giggling.
Rolling her eyes, Mom pushes the door open and says, “I swear, I don’t know which Blueblood is more troublesome sometimes. Really, you can’t get a colt dressed?”
Dad, for his part, sends a weak glare at his wife while he holds his struggling colt to his chest. “I’ve got him nearly dressed, he just really doesn’t like the bow tie.”
Sure enough, little Blueblood is wearing a tuxedo similar to the one his father wears save for the tiny, light-blue bow tie in Dad’s hooves. When brother sees me, his struggling ceases and he holds out his forelegs with a call of, “Pure!”
I smile and wave back, breaking out into a grin as Dad uses the moment of distraction to get the bow tie on his son, getting the colt to harrumph and cross his hooves. “No fair,” he mumbles as he is placed down.
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Dad says with a smirk, “You want to look snazzy for the party, don’t you?” Blueblood just grumbles in reply, only smiling again when I’m placed down, as well.
Running over, he skids to a halt and looks me up and down. I’m confused at first until he bursts into laughter and points before managing to say, “You pink marshmallow.”
I look down to see that my dress has poofed up around me, causing my cheeks to poof and redden with indignity. “I do not,” is my stellar defense.
This only gets him to laugh harder. “Face marshmallow too!”
I glower at the colt before smirking. “It’s, ‘Your face looks like a marshmallow too’.” I correct, getting the colt to stop his laughter instantly.
It’s something I’ve learned about my brother since taking on the task of tutoring him, he hates having his mistakes pointed out to him. Usually this means I have to be creative on how I correct him, but being blatant works great as a form of comeuppance for when he starts to act bratty.
Blueblood stares blankly for a few moments before abruptly shoving me over, getting me to yelp in surprise. My vision goes pink as my dress folds over my head and I hear my mom’s sharp voice. “Blueblood! You do not push ponies!”
I struggle for a bit before eventually being helped by Dad. When I can see again, my brother is holding his nose up petulantly. “Say you’re sorry this instant, young stallion,” Mom demands with a stomp of her hoof.
Blueblood lifted his head higher. “No.”
At the rebellious reply, Mom looked ready to burst, but is interrupted when I apologize instead.
“Wha-? Pureblood, you didn’t do anything wrong. Your brother knows better to push others, especially you.” It’s unspoken, but I know Mother thinks of me as fragile and helpless, and that is irksome.
“But I was teasing him,” I say to Mom before returning my eyes to Blueblood. “I’m sorry.”
For his part, the colt looks like he’s trying to stay aloof before his ears lower. “M’sorry fur pushing you… and the marshmallow stuff.”
“Apology accepted,” I say, beaming. Once I’m put down, I waddle over to Blueblood, who’s staring at the ground, and plop down. When he manages to meet my eyes, I hold my hooves out and after a moment of hesitation he leans into the hug.
Mom looks like she’s still a little angry, but Dad walks up and brushes against her. “Hey, I think they both learned their lesson. We want them to have a good birthday, right?” When Mom agrees with a sigh, Dad smiles brightly. “Hey, why don’t we leave the foals alone for a moment? I want to talk to you about something before we greet the guests.”
The two step out of the room with a call for us to be good, I wonder what they are going to talk about, but eventually shrug. I’m feeling more relaxed now with my brother, but the party is still looming uncomfortably in my mind. Blueblood’s muzzle is scrunching adorably, and I ask, “What’s the matter?”
He points at my head. “Messy.”
“What?” I reach up and notice I have hair hanging in my face. Oh no, did I mess up my mane? I can’t meet the family with a messy mane! They’ll think I’m some sort of ruffian! Blueblood jumping to his hooves and running across the room distracts me from my panic as I watch him climb a chair and scour the surface of the vanity desk in the room.
With a triumphant, “Aha!” the colt hops down and returns, allowing me to see the comb held between his teeth. Spitting it into his hooves, Blueblood makes his way behind me and pulls me into his lap. As he begins to gently run the comb through my mane, I can’t help but smile contently.
Why was I even worrying so much about meeting the rest of the family when I have my brother beside me? The sheer magnitude of our combined cuteness will knock their nonexistent socks off.
“Okay, what’s the matter?” Ornate asked with a knowing look directed at her husband. “You only twirl your mustache when you’re nervous.”
Blueblood’s hoof froze at the tip of his luscious whiskers. The silver strands may not have stood out well against his white coat had he not gave it an extra touch of wax for the occasion, making them shine in the light.
He sighs, “Well, I received some good news… You know how Aunty sent her apologies two days ago for not being able to attend the party?” When his wife nodded, he continued. “Well, negotiations have taken a sudden turn for the better and were wrapped up earlier this morning. I just got word that she will be attending, after all.”
Ornate remained quiet and Blueblood’s uneasy smile started to become more genuine at what he perceived as his wife accepting the news without a fuss. Then, she exploded. “What!? You’re telling me the ruler of the entire country is coming to my house today! I’ll need to get the extra decorations out of storage to get the gardens up to high enough standards! The food! We only have a single chocolate cake, that won’t be nearly enough to sate her hunger if the rumors are true! Do you think Perfect Pastries can manage a rush order!?”
“Ornate! Ornate, calm down!” Blueblood shouted, grabbing his wife by the shoulders to make her look at him. “Aunty just wants to meet the foals! With how busy she’s been she feels awful that she can only manage it now.”
The stallion’s attempts at soothing fell flat as Ornate gave a slight glare. “Blueblood, just because you have the audacity to call the single most powerful pony in Equestria ‘aunty’ does not mean she is not literally and politically the most powerful pony in Equestria! Everything must be perfect!”
Had she had anything more to say, the mare couldn’t remember as the strapping stallion pulled her forward and planted his lips firmly against hers. At first, she made to push him away, but as he worked his magic, her hoof instead came to caress his chest lovingly. When they finally pull apart, Ornate flutters her eyes open, not even realizing she had closed them to begin with.
“Okay,” she breathed, “I’m calm, thank you, Bluey.”
Blueblood smirks slightly. “I know how to handle my mare.”
Earning a playful swat, Ornate smiles too before sobering. “So, your ‘aunt’ is coming today. Does she… does she know about Pure’s condition?”
“First off, she insists I call her that, as I keep telling you. She has for as long I can remember,” he says, booping her nose. “And secondly, yes, she knows. She says that she will take the proper precautions so as not to hurt our daughter when they meet.”
“All right, good.” Looking down the hall, Ornate wonders aloud, “Do you think we should try and tell the children? I’m sure Pure will understand.”
“She probably would, knowing that filly, but Aunty enjoys her surprises. I say we leave it be.” He chuckles. “And get a camera ready. I remember the first time I saw her when I was a colt. Mom couldn't resist showing everypony who entered her home the photo of me with that gobsmacked look on my face.”
Giggling herself, Ornate gives her husband a peck and steps away. “Well then, I suppose we should get this party started, hmm? You get the camera and I’ll get the children and we’ll meet outside. The guests should be arriving soon and we must be there to greet them.”
Blueblood bows. “As you wish, my lady.” With one final laugh between the two, the proud parents set about giving their foals a birthday to remember. It wouldn’t be that hard.
"Oh! And I almost forgot to get Pure a cup of water. I better do that while I'm at it."
Bursting into a wide grin, I hold my hooves out with a call of, “Granny!”
“Cutiekins!” the golden mare returns as she quickens her pace through the garden entrance and snatches me from my mother’s grip. Ornate smiles as Golden swings me in a circle and blows a kiss on my cheek. “Oh, you are just so sweet, I could gobble you up!”
I burst into laughter and scream in mock terror. “Eek, dragon granny!”
“Do I hear the screams of a fair princess? I, Grampy Dragon, was looking for one of those for my tower,” a brown stallion says as he steps up behind his wife, making a show of searching the area.
Golden Garden pulls me to her chest protectively. “Too late, go find your own princess, ya old geezer!” She punctuates the statement by maturely sticking her tongue out.
At his frown, I laugh even harder. Granny and Grampy are always so funny when they visit that I don’t even have to pretend to be amused by their antics; it makes sense since they apparently met at an improv group in college.
“Grampy! I go to tower!” little Blueblood calls, apparently tired of being ignored as he tries to pull from Dad’s grip.
“Oh? Don’t think I’ve ever heard of a prince being held in a tower?” Grampy says, rubbing his salt and pepper goatee. Eventually, he shrugs and scoops his grandson up. “Oh, gender-normativity can hit the curb. This little guy’s mine now, and he’s worth more treasure than all of my hoards.”
“I’m glad you two could make it,” Mom says, and I can’t help but agree. I’m especially glad they are the first to arrive. A couple familiar, friendly faces has helped settle my nerves.
“Of course we made it,” Granny says as she cradles me in her foreleg. “What kind of grandparent would miss their grandfoals’ first birthday? A bad one, that’s what kind.”
“Agreed.” Looking around Granny’s shoulder, I spot a grey stallion with a darker grey mane. “It’s our duty as grandparents to spoil the little ones rotten, and what better time to do that than at a party?”
“Grandpa!” both my brother and I shout. Grandpa Shield hardly ever visits, but when he does, he always brings an assortment of sweets that have Mom scowling and Dad trying to swipe a few.
“Why, hello there, strangers,” he says casually as he comes closer, “You two, big, grownup ponies wouldn’t happen to have seen a couple of little ankle-biters around here, have you? They go by the names Pureblood and Blueblood.”
Dad goes to raise his hoof, but Mom elbows him just as my brother shouts, “Grandpa, me Blueblood!”
I play along and nod fervently. “Aha, and I’m Pureblood!”
Grandpa Shield blinks owlishly before giving a boisterous laugh. “So you are! I hardly recognized the two of you with how big you’ve grown.” Little Blueblood puffs out his chest in pride as he is exchanged from the hooves of one grandfather to the other. “Oof, I can barely lift you, you’ve grown so much. Maybe I shouldn’t give you this after all. I don’t want you getting too heavy.”
Pulling a piece of candy from the breast pocket of his suit, Grandpa jerks his hoof back a second too late as the candy vanishes into his grandfoals mouth, the wrapper floating gently to the ground. Seeing the self-satisfied look on the colt’s face, the adults can’t help but laugh.
“Grandpa, what about my candy?” I whine. It wasn’t even an act; I don’t know who made the little balls of heaven, but the hard candies Grandpa always had on him were absolutely scrumptious.
“You want one too, Pure?” I nod vigorously. “Well, let me just grab one then… Hmm?” The stallion taps his pocket. “Oh, it seems to have gone missing, but where possibly to?”
I can tell he’s acting, but I still tilt my head in confusion. What was he up to? “Maybe…” he began moving in close to look at me with squinted eyes, “Aha! There it is!”
Reaching forward, he seemingly pulls the candy from behind my ear, getting a wide-eyed stare from me and a gasp from my brother. I had heard of the fabled behind-your-ear trick plenty of times in my previous life, but I never expected to see it in a world where real magic existed, nor being performed by a creature without fingers. Really, how does one perform sleight of hand without hands?
“Hey!” Blueblood yells with a stormy expression. “No magic by sister!”
“I’m okay, Bluey,” I cut in, snatching the candy from my grandfather’s hoof and slipping it into my mouth. “It didn’t hurt at all.”
“Really?” he asks, unconvinced. When I nod, the colt’s head slowly turns to look Grandpa in the eye and whispers, “Teach me.”
Snorting, the stallion smiles and responds, “Maybe later, little one, but now, it seems it’s time to greet the rest of the guests.”
Sure enough, ponies could be seen moving up the entrance, and I clench a little tighter to Granny. “Oh! Revel, we have to get the gifts from the carriage,” Golden says as she passes me to my mother.
I watch the two pass the incoming guests, already wishing they were still here as the first new pony comes up and gushes about how cute we are. Sleight of hand nothing, how do ponies pinch cheeks without fingers?
Blueblood the 16th stood next to his father as Ornate introduced the foals to the family. “So, the candy trick? When did you learn that?” the younger stallion asked as he watched his wife and children with a smile.
“Well, I was overseeing some basic training at the request of Princess Celestia; seeing how the next crop of guards was shaping up and discussing techniques with the drill sergeant. Anyway, the recruits were on their personal time when I noticed it, a group of stallions all hunched up in a circle.
“At first, I thought there was a fight or some such, but when I got closer, I saw this earth pony putting on a magic show. Now, that’s not something you see every day, so I stayed and watched. It was nothing spectacular, just some card tricks, but it had me intrigued. I was thinking of Pureblood at the time and thought, well, maybe she’d like that sort of thing. Ended up asking the lad if he’d show a few tricks; he was more than glad to when I explained it was for my granddaughter.”
“Really? You learned magic-less magic tricks just to make my daughter happy?” Blueblood looked incredulous. “When I was a colt, all you did with me was have me run drills in the backyard until Mom made you stop.”
“Oh don’t go complaining about that again,” Stalwart Shield groused. “It made you a hit with the mares when you got to high school, didn’t it? You probably wouldn’t have even caught that wife of yours' eye if it weren’t for my training. Besides, Pureblood is my granddaughter and it’s my duty to spoil her. It’s in the grandfather code. Look it up.”
“I was just kidding, Dad,” Blueblood said with a chuckle. “I’m touched, really, and glad to hear you care so much for my foals’ happiness.” His tone sobered. “What I’m not glad to hear about is that you’re still working. I thought Aunty would know better and let you enjoy your retirement.”
“Bah, I’ve got nothing better to do. I’d rather keep busy than sit alone looking out the window all day. About the only good thing to have come from retirement is that it’s let me start to grow my beard out again. Your mother would have appreciated that. She always had a weak spot for facial hair,”
Though it was meant to be comedic, it caused Blueblood's expression to sadden. “Dad… You know you can always come stay-”
“How do earth ponies and pegasi manage without magic?” a pearl pink mare with a cornflower blue mane fumed from over by the snack table. She was attempting to grab hold of the ladle for the punch with a hoof, but was only succeeding in sending it spinning around the rim. “Actually, how do you two manage living this way?”
The question was directed at Ornate, who walked up, grabbed the ladle with practiced ease, and poured the mare a glass. “With practice and patience, Class Act,” she answered. “You’ll find when you have a foal, that you’ll do things that used to sound impossible for them. Like getting up seven times in the middle of the night to figure out why they’re crying.”
“Augh, no thank you,” Class said, “I don’t know how you can manage any of this, cousin, but more power to you. I can’t live without magic, or my beauty sleep.”
“Well, it’s easier with the two of us,” Blueblood said as he and his father approached. With the same finesse his wife showed, he poured a glass for himself and Shield, who accepted it with a nod. “And the staff has been more than accommodating of our daughter’s condition.”
“I know you already told all of us, but is it really that severe? Not a spark of magic around her? Like, not even levitation?”
“Well, she has another doctor’s appointment next month,” Ornate said, looking over at her children and giving a wave as they played with their uncle. The brown, green maned stallion was jawing the little ones ears off, it seemed. “They want to measure her reserves to see if there’s been any growth. If there has been, it should mean being around magic will cause her less pain.”
“A unicorn without magic…” the mare said with a slow shake of her head. “What sort of life will she have?”
While Blueblood’s lip twitched slightly downwards, Ornate looked ready to berate her cousin before Stalwart Shield interrupted. “I’m not surprised to hear that from a Canterlot unicorn, especially a civ. You lot tend to think magic makes the world go round, and you know, maybe it does, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be great without it.
“I’ve accompanied her majesty to the lands of the gryphons, minotaurs, and have even visited the underground capital of the diamond dogs, and none of their people could sling spells around like us unicorns. But you know they had something else in common that more than made up for that: ingenuity.
“Most of them can’t do nearly half the things we ponies can with magic, and yet, it’s a fact that the bulk of the military tactics used by the Wonderbolts are taken right out of gryphon history. No one can deny that when it comes to industry, minotaurs are decades ahead of Equestria. The deepest, oldest mines in the world belong to diamond dogs and their smelting techniques are so complex and produce such pure metals that Equestria’s willing to let them extend mines into our lands just to get our hooves on the stuff.”
The older stallion looked Class right in the eye and she shrunk back. “From what I’ve heard and seen, that filly is sharp as a tack and so sweet she could give Nightmare Moon a cavity. She has pair of loving parents and a brother to watch her back. And she has my blood running through her veins to boot. So what kind of life is she going to have? My guess, a pretty darn extraordinary one, wouldn’t you agree?”
The mare gulped, cup splashing in her shaky hoof as she nodded. “Yes sir, M-mister Shield, sir.” She pointed in a random direction. “I’m going to go use the bathroom if no pony minds… bye!” With that, she disappeared in a cloud of dust towards the house.
“… Thank you, Shield,” Ornate said, voice a whisper.
“Yes, it may have been bit excessive, but… thank you, Dad,” Blueblood agreed. “Though I hope Class Act will be alright. She’s a nice enough mare, if not a bit airheaded. I think you really scared her.”
Shield waved his hoof dismissively. “Bah, I don’t see what you two are thanking me for. It was just conversation. And scared? I don’t know what you’re talking about, boy. You heard her; she needed to use the bathroom. Darn punch must have gone straight through her.”
“Of course,” said Ornate, a giggle hid behind a smile. “Don’t mind us, we’re simply reading too much into things. Celebrating our foals' first birthday has us a bit high-strung, I suppose.”
“Though the feeling is obviously misguided,” Blueblood added. “Things have been going swimmingly. Why, there was no reason at all to be nervous.”
Just then, there was a commotion by the entrance as an immaculate, white carriage with gold accents pulled up and a stallion appeared with a trumpet. Taking a deep breath, the stallion put the horn to his lips and played a quick note of fanfare. “Now announcing her royal majesty, Princess-”
A large, white hoof was placed gently on the stallions shoulder. “I thought I said this was to be a casual visit and to not bring the horn,” a tall mare said as she came the rest of the way into view. Though her words were chiding, there was no bite behind them and she wore a gentle smile on her serene features. “Though I’m curious, where did you hide that thing?”
The stallion chose instead to look down with a sheepish smile and blush then answer as the mare looked up and spotted the three adults by the punch bowl. Smile spreading wider, she called, “Nephew, it is so good to see you after all this time!”
While she grinned widely, Ornate and Blueblood both displayed varying degrees of shock on their features. For the mare, it was that the leader of Equestria was in her garden. For Blueblood however, it was something far more astounding. “Aunty…! What happened to your mane!?”
That… is one huge pony. In any other scenario, that would probably be a very rude observation, but it is totally accurate as a mare easily twice the size of any I’ve seen steps into the garden.
One second, I’m listening to Uncle Sunlight name off all the different flowers in Mom’s Garden, and the next, he’s bowing to this newcomer. I admit that, at first, I’m scared of who this could be. A mare that size could do a lot of harm if she wanted to, and that’s not even considering the saber-length horn on her head. Even if she didn’t run that thing through my skull, casting any magic with it would probably feel like she did.
I’m scared until she calls my dad her nephew and he responds with aunty as well as yelling something about her mane. I don’t know what the problem was, her mane looked quite nice with her silky, pink hair pulled back into a simple pony tail. Perhaps it was a bit long, nearly reaching the ground, but it was nothing a few snips couldn’t fix.
“Calm yourself, Nephew. Believe it or not, this is my natural mane color,” the mare says, coming closer. As Mom and Dad rush up to meet her, I reflect on her entrance. Didn’t that trumpet pony say something about a princess? A princess of where? Pony Amazon? And how is she related to us?
“Y-your natural mane color? Then what happened to the…” Dad gestures wildly off to the side of his head. “The floating thing?”
The mare chuckles. “Well, having heard of my newest niece's condition, I couldn’t very well come see her with magic flowing out of my hair. It took some meditation to rein my magic in completely, but it seems the effort was worth it.”
At this, she looks at me, and I can’t help but look away shyly. As kind as her eyes are, her sheer size is still intimidating. So much so that I find myself sidled up to my brother for comfort.
“Your Majesty, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” Uncle Sunlight said as he got up.
“And you too, Sunlight Shine. It’s nice to see you enjoying some time off instead of cooping yourself up in a greenhouse or lab.”
Sunlight only blushes in response as the princess turns her gaze to my brother and me. Mustering up my courage, I say, “Hello, your- um- Your Majesty.”
“And hello to you, little one,” she replies, tucking her legs in and lowering herself to our level. “My name is Celestia, and you must be Pureblood.” At this height, she doesn’t seem as scary and I ease up, a more genuine smile coming to my lips. Really, now that I can get a better look at her, she really is quite beautiful, somehow still seeming approachable despite the gold regalia and crown signifying status.
Maybe too approachable as Blueblood moves forward to play with her mane. Before I realize what he is doing to pull him back, he’s engulfed within the pink hair, only a little white muzzle poking out. “Oh, aren’t you an adventurous one? You’re not lost in there, are you?”
At the joking tone, Blueblood lifts a curtain of hair to peer up at the princess, craning his head back to do so. “Nuh-uh,” he answered before deciding to add, “You really big.”
At his statement, Mom, who had moved up behind us with Dad without my noticing, gasps while both the older Blueblood and princess share a chuckle.
“That she is, lad!” Grandpa exclaimed, coming up and bowing his head quickly to Celestia. “She’s the biggest pony in all of Equestria, that’s why she’s the boss.”
Little Blueblood tilts his head in thought before nodding as if the explanation makes perfect sense. “Can I comb hair, Big Boss?” he asked. “it’s pretty n’ soft.”
Still giggling, the princess puts a hoof to her chin in thought. “I don’t know, my hoofmaidens may think you are stealing their jobs.”
“They learn to share,” was his quick rebuttal as he comes out of the pink forest and puts a hoof around my shoulders. “Like we share.”
“But… you’re usually taking my things,” I say, meeting his glare with befuddlement. “What? You do.” Apparently factual statements aren’t appreciated around here since he pushes me forward into a face plant.
“Blueblood! Didn’t I just tell you no pushing other ponies!?” Mom hissed before looking to the princess. “I am so sorry Princess Celestia, Blueblood just gets a little… cranky sometimes and does these things.”
“They share more than just their names, it seems,” the Princess mumbles, sending a glance towards dad who averts his eyes and reaches up to touch his mustache. Helped up by Celestia, I send a glare at my brother and spit out a mouthful of sod. Okay yeah, I know the colt doesn’t like being corrected and I should have remembered that, but come on, this wasn’t even a lesson!
“Blueblood,” Celestia spoke, voice holding the slightest edge of steel. “You are the older brother, are you not? Pureblood is your little sister and it is your responsibility to keep her safe.” Under the large mare’s stern gaze, the colt’s bravado began to falter. “Would you let somepony hurt Pureblood?”
“Wha-?” he began before shaking his head furiously, “No! I no want Pure hurt!”
“Then why did you push her?”
“She… she said mean stuff.”
“So you hurt her?”
“No. Just knocked her down…”
“But being knocked down can hurt ponies badly.” At this, Blueblood actually gasps as if the thought has never occurred to him. And thinking about, maybe it never has. I feel guilty upon realizing it, but I’ve kind of been blinded to that fact. I see my brother running around, picking up language far faster than I’m guessing a human infant could, and, of course, performing insane feats of magic, and it’s hard to think of him as just a baby. It’s not just language he needs to learn, it’s everything.
“Blueblood, you are so, so lucky to have a sister,” Celestia says, a note of sadness in her words. “Be there for her, protect her, don’t push her away over little things, and she’ll always be there for you in turn. Don’t lose that.”
How much the colt understands, I’m not sure, but it’s enough for him to turn and hug me. I hug him back, trying to think of something to say, but drawing blanks.
Smiling slightly, the princess whispers, “I’m glad to see you both understand,” before speaking louder, “Hey now, come little ones, today is not a day to be sad. Today is a day of celebration. Blueblood?” The colt looks up, sniffling, but attentive. “Do you want to do something really fun, you and your sister both?”
When he gives a watery smile and nods, Celestia grins. “Excellent! I’ve yet to meet a foal who doesn’t like this!”
A part of me wants to be mad at this mare for making my brother sad, but another part tells me he, and maybe even I needed to hear the large pony’s stern words, and yet another part is just as curious as Blueblood on what she has planned.
Majority ruled, and I went along with this odd princess’ game. It will probably be at least a little fun, I’m sure.
It was a strange sight to see, their mighty, immortal ruler galloping around the garden with two giggling foals on her back. That she was letting the colt use strands of her mane as reins, cracking them and yelling, “Giddy up!” only heightened the uncanniness of it all.
Yes, strange indeed, yet heartwarming all the same. Every adult wore some combination of mystified and dawww as they watched the three frolic and laugh. Even Celestia was laughing like a child as she played with her niece and nephew.
“I don’t know why I was so nervous about the princess visiting; she really is just a mare like any other… Except for the wings, horn, size, power, and what not.”
“Indeed she is,” her husband agreed. “It’s simply a shame she can’t show as much more often.”
Some of the guests began to leave, giving their apologies for not being able to stay longer, but the couple understood why. It wasn’t just work that called them away, but children as well. Many of the guests who came had to leave their children at home so as not to risk any unwanted magic being cast around Pureblood, and now they had to return to them.
Noticing this, Blueblood cleared his throat, “Aunty, as much as I’m sure the foals are enjoying the ride, we really should move onto other events. Perhaps presents next and then… cake?”
The majestic alicorn skidded to a halt, the twins on her back disoriented, and looked at the stallion. “Did you say cake?”
From that point on, it almost seemed like the princess was trying to rush things along, passing the gifts down to the foals moments after they opened one. It was still a fun time and little Blueblood in particular seemed to enjoy the mare’s energy, getting more into tearing the paper than actually looking at the toys. After the first few, he actually began tossing them to the side as soon as they were cleared of wrapping so he could reach eagerly for the next.
Once the presents were out of the way, the group sat upon a picnic blanket Ornate brought out, the cake set in the middle in reach of the foals. One candle had been placed on either end for the twins to blow out and, after Pure’s quick puff and Blueblood’s few sputtering attempts before success, the mother began to divvy up slices of cake. “I hope everypony likes chocolate,” the mare said. “If not, I do have a few vanilla cupcakes inside.”
The royal trumpeter cleared his throat, feeling out of place at the meal his hosts had invited him to, but going along with it at his princess’ request. “Actually, if it’s not too much trouble, I prefer vanilla… if it’s not too much trouble of course.”
“Of course not, I’ll have one of the maids bring them out.” Ornate responded, giving the princess' two cart-pulling guards their cake.
“While I most certainly like chocolate, vanilla is a close second,” Princess Celestia said, licking her lips as the a plate passed past her face. “I wouldn’t mind a cupcake as well.”
“I’d like to have seconds, Princess,” Shield said with a smirk. “So please leave some for the rest of us.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk,” she replied coolly. “If I recall, you’re the one who repeatedly got caught with pastries in the barracks during basic training. What was that nickname again? Jelly Donut?”
“Hey, Jelly Donut was one of the finest soldiers I’ve ever met,” he reported with a point of his fork. “My nickname was Stalwart Sprinkles and I’m not ashamed to admit it. The extra laps the sergeant made me run when I got caught helped me become one of the fastest unicorns in the platoon.”
Seeking to change the subject before somepony choked due to laughter, Blueblood the 16th asked his foals, “So, did you like the ride aunty gave you?”
Both foals nodded, Blueblood more vigorously than his sister. “Yeah,” he said. “She’s really fast!” Looking at the princess, he asked, “You come play more tomorrow?”
Freezing with a fork-full of cake halfway to her mouth, she lowered it slightly and gave an apologetic look. “I’m sorry little one, but I have a lot of work to do, so I can’t visit tomorrow.”
He deflated some, but there was still some hope in his eyes when he asked, “Play tomorrow’s tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t play tomorrow’s tomorrow either.”
Even the guards couldn’t stand looking at the crestfallen colt without getting misty eyed. “Ah, come on Princess, surely you can find some time off,” Stalwart Shield said. “You’ve been working too much as it is anyway. You may be an alicorn, but I’m afraid even you’ll burn out eventually.”
“I agree, as hypocritical as my father is being, you really do work too much.” The older Blueblood said, ignoring the glare from his father. “Surely you can find suitable ponies amongst the noble houses to help lighten your workload. Gods know they’d be more than eager to accept.”
“Yes, too eager in fact,” Celestia said with a sigh before giving the stallions a reassuring smile. “Believe me you two, I understand the need for rest, but I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done… yet. There’s a certain pony I believe I will be able to entrust some of my responsibilities to when she’s gotten some more experience. I have high hopes for her, but for now, I simply have to stay diligent in my duties to Equestria.”
Of course, little Blueblood didn’t understand any of this, so the princess leaned close and said, “I’ll try and visit as often as possible, little one, but you know, when you grow up, maybe you can come to the castle to visit. How does that sound?”
Perking up, he responded, “Uh-huh! And I can help too so you work less!”
“Well then, I can’t wait.” Looking at her cake, she licked her lips. “And I can’t wait for this any longer, either.”
Reaching a lull in the conversation, everypony took the opportunity to eat until eventually Ornate noticed something strange. “Are you okay, Pure? You haven’t spoken in a while and you’ve only barely touched your food.”
“Hmm, oh it’s nothing, Mommy, I was just wondering about something.”
“Oh, and what was that?”
Turning her young gaze to the princess she asked, “Well, Daddy keeps calling you Aunty, so I was just wondering if you were Grandpa’s younger sister.”
The following silence was broken by Shield when he snorted. “Pfft, no, sweetie, the princess is not my younger sister. Can you imagine? That’d make me some sort of political ruler. Equestria would be doomed.”
“Aunty Celestia is from my mother’s side of the family, and is actually a great aunt,” explained older Blueblood to his precocious daughter. “Well, more than one ‘great’ really, but it’s be a mouthful to say all of them.”
“Really?” she looked the princess up and down. “How old are you?”
This time, the stunned silence was broken by Ornate face-hoofing before the princess burst into laughter herself. The great mare was beginning to wish more than ever that she had more time to spend so that she could see these adorable foals more often.
… Perhaps after the longest day of the thousandth year, she’d finally have the family life she so dearly wished for.
Knowing why I’m here hardly helps lessen my anxiety as we wait for the doctor to return with the results. The visit, I admit, has not been as nerve-wracking as the previous, due in large part of now understanding the doctors, but not even the friendly word of assurance can make these white walls any less intimidating.
I look over to my brother as he sleeps in our father’s lap, a little tin soldier Grandpa got him set loosely in his hooves. The sight brings a smile to my face, despite the situation. He was absolutely adamant about coming with us this time, even after he was told how boring it would be, but he wouldn’t listen. “My little sister needs me,” he kept saying, and while I’m not a fan of being considered the little sister, even if I was technically born later than him, the sentiment is heartwarming nonetheless.
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Mom asks.
“Okay,” I mumble. “Just tired. When can we go home?”
“Well, the doctor said it wouldn’t take long to go over the results, so I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”
I hum and return to waiting. Ten minutes later, I’m on the verge of pulling my mane out when the doctor finally shows up. Dad looks like he wants to stand, but can’t due to the foal in his lap. His shifting however is enough to wake the colt and he yawns, smacking his lips and rubbing his eyes.
The doctor looks up from his clipboard and gives a smile. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, but I do have what I believe is some good news.”
All but Blueblood perked up at that. “Really, what is it?” Dad asks. “Has her magic grown much?”
The lab coat-clad stallion’s smile lessens a bit. “Not to anywhere near what would be considered an average level, but yes, it has grown quite substantially. Roughly three times in fact.”
“That’s… good… isn’t it?” Mom says, and I can’t help but wonder if it is. The mere idea that I could even have magic is still mind boggling. Magic is a myth; the tool of gods and legends, not for little fillies with no idea how to even use it.
“Well, I can’t say for sure how much it will help, but she should experience less discomfort from magic use now. Her advanced vocabulary should help us in that regard.”
“What do you mean?” Dad questions.
At this, the doctor appears to become nervous. “Well, to know how much or how little magic hurts her will require a… test.”
“Are… are you suggesting we use magic and simply ask her how much it hurts?” Mom says, aghast.
Both Bluebloods now look angry and on the verge of shouting, but I interrupted. “Okay.”
“Um, excuse me?” the doctor says, the first one to manage a word.
“Okay, let’s do it,” I clarify. “Somepony use magic.”
“Pure, you can’t actually expect one of us to hurt you,” Mom tries, but I won’t hear any of it. I’m not some sort of glass doll that will shatter at the slightest pressure. In my old life, I had been poked and prodded all over and asked if it hurt, and yeah, it sucked, but it helped the doctors with their diagnosis, so I suffered through it. This is the same thing.
“It’s okay, Mommy, magic never really hurt that bad, so if it hurts even less now, then I can handle it,” I reason, secretly hoping both I and the doctor are right. I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to trust him if he ends up putting me through this for nothing.
“…I’ll do it,” Dad says, setting his son aside and standing. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“Oh, um, perfect!” The doctor looks around a moment. “Okay, so, we don’t necessarily have a test designed for this sort of thing, so we’ll have to improvise.”
Mom looks to her husband and mouths the doctor’s last word, obviously perturbed. Dad can only shrug before the doctor claps a hoof on the linoleum, “I’ve got it! Just follow me, and we can begin.”
In only a few short minutes, I find myself back in the room with the machine that apparently read my magic. “This device can not only detect magic in reserve within a pony, but also magic output. All we have to do is stick a few of these sensors on your horn as you channel magic and it should tell us how much you’re using.”
“Seems simple enough,” mumbles dad as he shuffles uncomfortably from either what he was about to do our because the doctor was touching his horn. I’m guessing the latter, as the stallion is a bit too enthusiastic about the upcoming test.
“You know, this is the first time I’ve created my own procedure for something. Kind of makes me feel like a scientist more than a doctor.” He huffs a quick laugh. “Who knows, maybe if this works well, it can become an official test for those afflicted with mageiasthenia.”
Stepping back, the doctor flips on the machine and paper slowly starts to slide out. Leaning in he squints and starts adjusting some dials. “Mmm, there, sensitivity has been lowered to filter out background radiation. It’s showing a good baseline now. The next step is simple, I’m going to have you levitate my clipboard, Mr. Blueblood.” He looks to me now. And Pure, this is very important, sweetie, I want you to speak up as soon as you start to feel any pain at all. Do you understand?”
With a gulp, I nod, and he does the same. “Good. Mrs. Garden, you may place your daughter on the bed here.” Giving me a quick peck on the head, Mom does just that, and the paper cover crinkles beneath me.
Now that it’s actually happening, my resolve begins to falter. It’s ridiculous, I’ve been through much worse, but no matter how much I tell myself to stop being a baby, another part argues that I am, that at some point, pretending stopped being pretend. As the adults prepare to start, a shrill voice yells, “Wait!”
Little Blueblood, who Dad had passed off to Mom a moment ago, looked at me with a stony expression. “I want to sit with Pure,” he said. There was no room for argument in his voice, and so he is placed down next to me.
I’m less nervous when they go to start again. “Mr. Blueblood, if you would?” the doctor prompts, offering the clipboard. With a hesitant look in my direction, Dad complies and his horn takes on a silver glow, which is immediately shared with the clipboard.
All eyes are on me as the doctor removes his hoof, leaving the clipboard to float in the air. “So,” he says, “do you feel anything, Pureblood?”
I take a moment to be sure. “Nothing,” I answer, a small smile pulling at my lips. Was I really getting better?
“That’s good, right?” Dad asked excitedly, smiling similar to Mom. “Magic doesn’t hurt her anymore.”
“Relatively small amounts of it don’t,” corrected the stallion, glancing at the sheet of paper slowly spilling out of the machine, now brushing the floor. He places a hoof on top of the floating clipboard and explains. “I’m now going to start pushing down on the clipboard, what I want you to do is to keep it level as best as you are able, Mr. Blueblood.”
Sobering some, Dad nods, and I notice his eye twitch as the doctor begins. It’s nothing at first, neither face changes as the stallions work against each other, but soon, I can see the doctor's hoof tremble and the glow of father’s horn intensify. Strangely, I do begin to feel something, or more accurately, I notice something I felt as Dad began using magic now that the sensation is intensifying. There’s a pressure against the tip of my horn that is crawling down into my forehead.
A few seconds later, I feel the first inkling of a headache. “Stop!” I call, putting a hoof to my head, and am glad to see that they do. There is a shared wince as the clipboard hits the floor. Dad is in front of me in an instant, sensors removed and apologizing while the doctor is quick to flip the switch on the machine.
“its okay, Daddy,” I say, trying to ease his guilt. “It barely started to hurt when I said something, just like the doctor asked.”
“Yes, that was very good of you, Pureblood.” The doctor looks up from his paper. “Because of this, we now have a rough estimate of what you can handle. Your father’s output topped out at fifty-eight thaums before you began to feel it, which, if I am remembering my magic and mathematics class, is equivalent to levitating around two stone.”
“Really?” Mom perks up, apparently understanding more of the doctor’s gobbledygook than I do. “That’s actually quite heavy; more so than a pony would have need to levitate normally, anyway. Does this mean it’s safe to use magic then, as long as we don’t go over fifty-eight thaums?”
“Well, Mrs. Garden, you must understand that this wasn’t exactly an official test, and so it did not take into account all possible variables. Distance, for instance, would probably alter results, and I wouldn’t suggest using magic directly on her. However, I do think that this is definitely a positive sign for the future.
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to the two of you about something since you first brought your daughter in and her condition came to light,” he continued. “I would like to take your daughter’s case to some acquaintances I have at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Since mageiasthenia is just as much a condition of magic as it is the body, I believe their input would be quite valuable. With so little known, things we learn from Pureblood could be invaluable for future sufferers.”
Mom and Dad share a look. “Well Doctor, while your intentions sound genuine,” Mom began, “We’d rather our daughter’s life be as normal as possible, and becoming a… subject of study sounds counterintuitive to that.”
The stallion blinked a few times before waving his hooves. “Oh, no, no, no! You completely misunderstand. As her doctor, I want only what’s best for Pureblood, and I believe the researchers at the school might be able help all of us know what that is. They could give us better guidelines on what sort of magic and at what intensity should be allowed to be cast around Pure for instance.
“I haven’t even mentioned your daughter to any of them yet, merely broached the subject during conversation. I’m sworn to doctor-patient confidentiality, after all. This is all just speculation for now, but I do think it will be better for Pureblood in the long run to get a better opinion than jury-rigging tests such as these.”
"We’ll think about it,” Dad says, obviously just as much on the fence as Mom or myself. I don’t like to doubt the sincerity of others, but I’d rather not become a guinea pig if I can help it, plus doctors already make me nervous as it is, so throwing more lab coats into the mix wouldn’t be ideal.
“Perhaps when you get more of a plan structured, you can send us a letter outlining it,” Mom adds. “But until then, we’ll have to wait to give you an answer.”
The doctor nods. “Of course, I wasn’t expecting a definitive answer right now, anyway, not after just springing the question on you. I will send you that letter though when I’ve gotten things more cemented. I hope you consider it.”
At this point, I’m just tired and tune out the rest of the adults’ conversation. I don’t realize my eyelids are drooping until I feel a brush against my shoulder. Looking over, little Blueblood is staring at me with what appears to be hope. “Um, so I can use magic around you now?”
I blink, processing the sudden question. Going over what had been discussed between the grownups, I’m guessing the only thing he couldn’t do was that crazy stuff from before. I don’t know what thaums are, but I’m guessing it takes a lot to teleport or phase through solid object. “I think… a little?” I offer, unsure.
Smile broadening, the colt whoops and throws his hooves in the air. Also going into the air is his tin soldier surrounded by a dark blue glow. Seeing that familiar hue, I realize I’ve not seen it in what feels like ages, and it registers how hard it must have been for him to always have to restrain himself in my presence.
To know he has gained back a little of the freedom I unwittingly stole from him makes me grin as well and I throw my hooves up alongside his, cheering as his toy dances through the air. Even if the pinprick of pressure at the tip of my horn was worse, I still wouldn't say anything that could end my brother's moment of happiness.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ornate asked, pushing a strand of her styled mane behind her ear. “The twins can be quite the hoofful at times, especially when Blueblood gets up to his tricks.”
“Really, Ornate, I’ve got this,” Class Act said, rolling her eyes. “I mean, sure, if there was diaper changing involved, it’d be a different story, but they’re potty trained, I can use magic around the filly, and you two haven’t given yourself a night out in nearly a year and a half.” The pink mare smiled more genuinely. “Don’t worry so much and enjoy yourself, okay. Besides it’s the least I can do for, you know, spoiling the party.”
Ornate winced. “You didn’t spoil anything, Class, all of us were just overreacting is all and ganged up on you. There’s no need to apologize for that.”
“Nuh-uh, I’m not going to hear any of it. Mom’s been telling me for years that I never think before I speak, and she’s right. But I’m making a change today to be a better, kinder Class Act starting now. I upset you on a day you only should have been happy, and I’m going to make it up to you.”
“But sending the staff away, too?” questioned Ornate. “Really, Class, Blueblood and I could take a day off anytime and they’d be perfectly fine watching the foals… Well, mostly, anyway. We just haven’t gotten around to it.”
Class raised an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t be much of a favor if I just let the staff watch your children with me. Besides, everypony can use more days off. Most of your servants seemed pretty happy to get out of the house.”
“That’s because my son is having too much fun with magic again,” Ornate mumbled, before speaking up. “I just really think this is unnecessary, is all.”
“Okay, the twins are in bed,” Blueblood the 16th called, entering the foyer. “They should be out for at least the next hour. You ready to go, Honey?” he asked, eyeing his wife up and down and growling. “Looks like it, I haven’t seen you in that number since before the foals were born, and I must say, I’ve missed it.”
The mare, wearing a red satin dress, blushed and swatted her husband. “Oh hush, I was just making sure Class Act actually wanted to do this, especially if it’s going to be on her own. With how our son has been-”
“I’m sure she can handle it just fine. She’s a grown mare after all, aren’t you, Class?” Blueblood cut off, nervous. He did not want his wife to change her mind after nearly eighteen months of trying to convince her it was okay. They really needed this.
Class Act turned her nose up proudly. “Exactly. I mean, you’re making it sound like watching your foals is going to be harder than memorizing a bajillion lines or something. I've totally got this, cuz.”
Ornate went to argue, but her husband began herding her out the door. “You heard her, she’s got this, so come on, don’t want to be late for our reservation, do we? We’ll be back in three or four hours! Help yourself to anything in the kitchen! Snacks are in there for the foals! Okay bye!”
Class stopped her lazy waving once the door slammed shut and blew a strand of her blue mane from her eyes. “That stallion is such a weirdo,” she mused, walking into the living room and reaching into the bag she left by the couch. Pulling out a script, she flopped down on the cushions and flipped open the first page. While she didn’t agree with Uncle Revel’s decision for the next production, she would still put her all into the performance. She was a professional, after all.
A loud creak awoke the young mare as she jerked her head up, a strand of drool stretched between her lip and the pages of her script. Augh, Our Town was such a boring play. How could such a fun-loving stallion like her Uncle choose such drivel?
The room was dim and she looked out the window to realize the sun had set. “How long was I out?” Class mumbled as she wiped the spit from her lip. She was going to get up and check, but the giggle that suddenly echoed through the house had her pulling her hooves back up under her. “Who’s there?” she called out, eyes darting about.
Her answer was another giggle and a fainter, high-pitched whisper. Her heart was beginning to speed up before she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. With a relieved sigh, Class called, “Okay you two, enough hiding, I know you’re around here somewhere.”
All she got in response was a rattling from the kitchen. Sighing, the mare got up, lit her horn a light pink just bright enough to guide her path, and headed towards the source of the sound. As she arrived, she saw the light was on and so unlit her horn. “You two hungry? I think your mom left apple slices in the fridge for-” She was stunned silent by the sight of two chairs perched precariously atop each other with a little filly holding the base steady while a colt stood on top, head buried in the cookie jar set on the fridge.
The filly’s eyes went wide upon seeing their foalsitter. “We’ve been had! Quick, throw the cookies down!” At this, the colt looked up, mouth brimming with cookies as he made a surprised sound in the back of his throat.
Class Act’s heart froze when the colt lost his balance and toppled over. Her legs didn’t however as she lunged forward, horn igniting to catch her ward. Just as his descent slowed, a squeak of pain emanated from the filly who stumbled, having been attempting to catch her brother, and instead unintentionally bowling the older mare’s hooves out from under her.
Magic cut off, Class fell over, though luckily not onto Pure, and soon became a cushion for Blueblood’s landing. All three groaned as they got their bearings, with Blueblood being the first to recover. Quickly scrambling to his hooves, he rolled off the pile and gathered the stolen cookies in his magic.
“Come on, Pure, let’s go!” he called to his sister who was rubbing her head. Not waiting for an answer, he took off and Pure struggled to follow. Before she could make it more than three steps however, a pair of thin forelegs wrapped around her waist.
“Gotcha, you little trouble-maker!” Class Act crowed. Blueblood glanced at the struggling filly, eyes wide, before turning tail and running out of the kitchen.
"Brother, where are you going?! Come back and help me!” Pureblood fruitlessly pulled against her captor, grunting. “Traitor! At least leave me a cookie!”
“Pureblood, stop that!” Class demanded as she sat up, and to her surprise, the filly actually did, going limp in her grip with a sigh. “What were you two even thinking, doing something so dangerous? Like, I expect a stunt like this from a colt, they’re reckless, but you’re a filly, I expected better. And aren’t you supposed to be super smart?”
“Umm, Bluey is very persuasive?” Pure tried, attempting to appear innocent. When Class Act didn’t look convinced, Pureblood pouted and crossed her hooves. “It was a calculated risk,” she grumbled. “With Blueblood’s magic, it wasn’t that dangerous, and the payoff was Mom’s triple chocolate cookies. She only lets me have three a day. Three! You understand, don’t you?”
Class continued to stare for a moment longer, then says, “Okay, yeah, I can see where you’re coming from.” She really did. No doubt that was Aunt Golden’s recipe, making those cookies as delicious as they were waistline destroying. “But that doesn’t change the fact that that was a totally dangerous stunt and I’m going to have to tell your parents about this.”
This got a panicked look from the filly. “W-what? No! Please don’t tell Mom and Dad!”
“No can do, little missy, you should have thought about that before you decided to play Jenga with the kitchen furniture. Now where’s that brother of yours? Blueblood! Get your little patootie out here right now!”
As she waited, expecting a guilty colt to come slinking into the kitchen any second, she heard the limp filly in her hooves sniffle. “They’re going to be so disappointed, and all for some stupid cookies. I’m such an idiot.”
Blinking at the self-deprivation, Class Act wanted to say something comforting, but an ominous voice stopped her. “You made little sister cry… I don’t like you.”
Shocked by the odd statement, Class could only mutter, “W-what?”
“Let her go, or be sorry.”
For a second, the mare thought of complying, until remembered who she was dealing with. “Blueblood, enough playing around. Come out here now.”
“… Come and get me.”
Class gasped, Oh, his parents were definitely going to hear about this. “Okay, fine, make it harder for yourself. I hope you get no dessert for a week because of this.” Standing up, she looked down to the sad filly in her the crook of her foreleg. It’d be a pain walking around on three legs, but she couldn’t carry her with magic. “Pure, I’m going to put you on my back, so hold onto my neck. You’re not going to cause any trouble, right?”
“No ma'am,” was her solemn reply as she was placed across her foalsitter’s withers. “But you probably shouldn’t play Bluey’s games. He’s gotten really creative with them despite only using levitation with his magic. The staff here says he’s Discord incarnate… whatever that means.”
Rolling her eyes, Class responded, “I’m sure I can handle one colt.” Stepping out into the dim hallway, contemplating on whether it would be safe to use her horn as a light source again when she had Pureblood on her back. Luckily, she remembered she wouldn’t have to and began running a hoof along the wall.
As she finally found the switch, the mare thought how lucky Ornate was to live in one of the few homes in Canterlot equipped with electric lights. It was definitely a convenience she’d be investing in someday. “There, let’s see the little fella hide now,” she said cheekily, before jolting at the sound of squeaking from above.
Looking up revealed each light bulb being surrounded by a blue glow one by one and being twisted from their sockets. Class Act gaped as each bulb subsequently flew down the hall and around the corner. “Told you so,” Pure whispered.
“Yeah…” Class breathed before shaking her head. “I mean, no, that’s not impressive at all. I could do that too.” When I was ten, was left unsaid.
“Let Pure go and leave,” Blueblood warned from the shadows.
Steeling her nerves, the foalsitter called back, “Not gonna happen. You and your sister are going into time out until your parents get home.” The response this time was a raspberry, and Class Act was officially done. “That’s it!” she yelled as she ran down the hall. She was not going to be insulted by a pony who probably still wet the bed.
Turning the corner, her vision was immediately obscured by an object flying towards her face, though luckily for the young mare’s career, they turned out to just be pillows. With a loud pomf and a spray of feathers, Class came to a halt, only to be pelted by several more downy objects of doom. Falling to her rump, she hacked both from the quills in her mouth and nostrils and her passenger tightening her grip around her neck.
“Um, are you okay?” Pure asked.
With one final whinnying sneeze, the last of the feathers were expelled from Class' airways and she could answer. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Where’d your brother go?”
“Oh, I think I saw him heading towards our room,” Pure supplied, looking hesitant. “Miss Act, I think maybe you should give up.” At the angry huff and weak glare directed at her, Pure eeped. “N-not that you can’t catch him, but, um, somepony might get hurt, and I can probably calm him down.”
“Yes, and then I won’t tell your parents what you two did tonight because of how thankful I’ll be.” Class said, head bobbing slightly with each sarcastic word. “Yeah right. I was a filly too once, I know all the tricks. Perfecting the puppy dog eyes was what earned me my cutie mark.”
Ignoring the filly’s denial of manipulation, Class Act continued her crusade, determined to prove her superiority to this insufferable little colt. Remembering which room her cousin said was the foals, Class Act came to stop in front of the door and called out, “There’s nowhere for you to go, kid, come out peacefully and I might be able to convince your parents to only ground you for half of your life. It’s a sweet deal, I suggest you take it.”
“Never surrender!” Blueblood answered, quoting his Grandpa Shield.
Class smirked. “I hoped you’d say that. You were a worthy adversary, all things considered, but your rebellion ends here.” With a roar, she opened the door and charged, only for her hoof to catch on a twisted up bed sheet pulled along the bottom of the entrance and to topple forward into a pyramid stack of blocks spelling out U-ARE-SMELLY.
There was a screech from both mare and filly as gravity took hold accompanied by an evil laugh of a very misbehaved colt. The boy had to be given credit however, as his sister was shot from her captor’s back, over the toppled blocks, only to land safely on a stack of pillows
As Pureblood stood dizzily, her brother ran to grab her by the hoof. “Come on! Let’s get out of here!” She didn’t resist as she was dragged out of the room, still trying to stop her head spinning.
As they passed the down mare, she attempted to stand and give chase. “H-hey, you two, get back he- Ah!” Class Act buckled as soon as she put pressure on her front left leg and she yelped in pain. When tears began to well up in the mare’s eyes and she cradled her hoof to her chest, Pure went rigid, staring shocked as Blueblood tried to pull her along.
“Oh no.”
I can’t believe how out of hand I’ve let this night get. With how much trouble Blueblood has been causing lately, I felt everypony could use a break. When my brother had been given permission to use his magic freely, he had tried taking full advantage of it. Unfortunately for him, he soon realized he could no longer pull off the same feats as he could when his magic was newly developed.
Apparently, his first mystical growth spurt had ended and his body had grown enough to contain the energy without having it leak chaotically. His magic had begun to settle, and he was not happy about it. Despite being told how impressive it was to still have such a mastery of levitation after this stage of development, Blueblood wanted more and took to practicing constantly.
Much to the dismay of the adults who became subjects to his random, and inventive, magical exercises. So when they were offered the night off, I was glad at first, but as I lay in my bed, Dad having just tucked us in, I felt fear bubble up inside. Not a day had gone by since the start of my new life that I did not see my parents, and I had grown used to being that way. But now they were leaving.
How long would they really be gone? Would they return in a few hours as they promised, or would this be my past life all over again? A few fleeting visits a week while I remained alone. It was foolish, irrational, but the thought wouldn’t leave me be. I lay there, eyes closed in faux-sleep for what must have been an hour until my brother stirred beside me.
Once he was awake and aware of the situation, there was no stopping him, and, perhaps not wanting to, I indulged him more than I should have when he suggested we go for the cookie jar. Maybe it was for the promise of relief from my nerves, sweets having a calming affect I was never able to indulge in during my previous life, or maybe it was some misguided act of rebellion; payback for the perceived abandonment.
Either way, the plan was solidified when I spotted the sitter snoring on the couch. We weren’t going to be caught, the house was empty, there would be no repercussions. Blueblood was giddy, not only over the prospect of getting his hooves on those chocolaty discs of heaven, but also because I was supporting him for once instead of merely watching disappointingly from the sidelines.
Then we did get caught and I was faced with the full ramifications of my stupidity. I was complacent after that, giving into the mare’s demands in hopes of saving myself and my parents even more grief. If only Blueblood would have thought similarly.
“Come on, Sis, we gotta go!” Blue says, trying to pull me from my rooted position.
I frown, the time for complacency over. “No,” I state, bringing a baffled look to Blueblood’s face.
“No? But I beat her! We can have all the cookies we want now!”
“I said no, Blueblood!” I jerk my hoof from his and point to the whimpering mare. “She’s hurt and we need to help her!” Ignoring his argument that she’s mean, I go to Class Act’s side. “Miss Act, are you okay?”
Looking up in slight bewilderment, Class Act’s face suddenly scrunches up with a pained hiss. “It’s my hoof, I… I think I really hurt it in the fall.”
“I-Is it broken?”
Finally pulling the hurt leg from her chest, she says, “I don’t think so.” She tries to bend it at the fetlock and winces. “M-maybe just a sprain. It sure does feel like one.” Chuckling sardonically, she adds under her breath, “This is my first year ballet recital all over again. What’s with me getting thrown by colts?”
As she shifts to get the wooden block out from digging into her ribcage, I turn to my brother. “Go get something cold from the refrigerator, it will make her hoof feel better.”
Blueblood is scandalized. “But she’s mean! She caught you and chased me!”
“Because we were doing something dangerous to steal cookies we weren’t supposed to have,” I counter, somewhat satisfied to see a shamed blush come to the colt’s cheeks. Usually, it’s Mom or dad that scolds him for his misbehavior, so it’s odd for both of us for me to be the one taking the role. Nonetheless, it’s necessary right now. “Go get something cold,” I say again, and, albeit with a grumble, Blueblood goes to do just that.
Turning back to my foalsitter-turned-patient, I help push the blocks away so she can lie more comfortably. “…I’m sorry.” Looking at the miserable mare, it’s all I can think to say. “I should have talked him out of this instead of helping him. I was being really stupid.” Despite my best efforts, I find myself tearing up and have to rub the moisture away with a foreleg. “And now somepony got hurt.”
“Hey there, none of that.” A hoof is placed under my chin and Class looks me in the eye with a smile. “I was being pretty stupid too. Like, what was I thinking, right? Running through the dark house like a crazy pony, it’s no wonder I didn’t trip earlier. And I was carrying you on my back, so really I should have known better. We’re lucky your brother put those pillows out for you… though I’d have appreciated a few for myself.”
Her smile becomes wistful. “I really messed this night up, didn’t I? You know, your mom is only a few years older than me, and yet, just look at her. Happily married, two beautiful foals, everypony likes her, she has her life together. I guess I just wanted to prove I could be like her, at least to myself, but I guess I should have known better. I’m an airhead, it's better if I just stick with acting.”
Seeing the defeat in her eyes, I feel even worse, but can’t think of anything to cheer her up. Before I figure something out, Blueblood reenters with a bag of cold chocolate chips. “Here,” he says with a frown, as he gives them to me. “Happy now?”
“Yes, I am,” I respond with a grateful smile. “Thank you very much.” Looking at the bag, I can’t help but feel my lip twitch, and as I pass it over to Class, I see she has a similar reaction.
“Chocolate, huh? Oh, the irony. I hope your mom doesn’t mind that they’re going to get a bit melted.” Placing the bag over her ankle with magic, she hisses, and then sighs. “Oh, oh yeah, that’s better.”
“I’m glad, and I’m sure Mommy won’t care. She’ll probably be too focused on Blueblood and me to care about some chocolate.” Though it’s meant to be joking, I fail to keep the anxiety out of my voice. I’m really not looking forward to that.
Class frowns a little. “Hey, do you two mind helping me to the couch? It’d be a lot more comfy than this floor.”
I get Bluey to agree with only a little prodding and the three of us make the long trek to the living room; Class having to hobble along on three legs adding a few minutes to the trip. Eventually though, we succeed in escorting our foalsitter and she collapses heavily on the couch.
“Phew, I’m not looking forward to having to do that for the next few days,” she says, lifting the bag up to check her injury. “Hopefully I won’t have to. The swelling’s not looking as bad as I thought it’d be, so that’s something. Maybe I’ll pay my old ballet teacher a visit and see if she can’t work her healing magic on this. That mare might have been a taskmaster, but she knew a thing or two about treating injuries.”
“That’s good,” I say from the floor. “Um, do you want anything?”
Class blinks a few times before chuckling. “Hey, aren’t I supposed to be the one taking care of you?” She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good right here. I mean, if you want to not get up to any more mischief so I don’t have to move, that’d be nice.”
Beaming, I salute. “Sure can do, right Bluey?”
“What? But that’s boring! The house is empty, it’s never like this.”
Well, I can’t really argue with that kind of logic since me thinking that way was sort of what caused this mess, but I very well can’t let Blueblood run rampant for the rest of the night, so I use my ace in the hole. “P-please, Big Brother? Do it for me?” Being the little sister has some perks, I suppose.
“Grk!” he clamps a hoof to his chest, trying fruitlessly to break his gaze from my shimmering eyes before eventually heaving a sigh and slumping to the ground. “Fine, let’s just do nothing then. Woohoo.”
“Oh, thank you, Big Brother!” Bringing out my pièce de résistance, I heave the colt up by the shoulders and lay a big, wet kiss on his cheek, bringing a bright blush to his face as he pretends to furiously wipe the afflicted area.
As he goes on about how gross that was, Class leans down with a sly smile and whispers, “Not bad. Could use a little work, but that was a pretty solid performance.”
“What can I say, he inspires my best work,” I reply with a sly smile as Blueblood moves to rubbing his face on the side of the couch.
“You might have the makings of a fine actress in you, girl… want some lessons?”
I look up at her hopeful face, just waiting for me to say yes, and I can’t help but nod. It’s the least I can do for her after the night she’s had, and it might be fun.
“Oh, I know just the performance!” she cheers, turning suddenly to Blueblood. “But we’ll need a third actor to play the villain, and after today, well…”
Blueblood looks around for a bit before pointing to himself. I don’t know why he tried to avoid participating. With two sets of pleading eyes on him, he didn’t stand a chance.
When Ornate Garden and her husband returned, it was with rosy cheeks, the occasional stumble, and glowing smiles. “Oh, oh dear, I think we may have had too much wine,” Ornate said with a giggle. “We still have to take care of the twins by ourselves until the all help returns.”
“Bah, I’m sure Class Act will either have them in bed or tuckered out by now. I think getting that dress off of you should be our first concern,” Blueblood responded, nipping at his wife’s neck.
With a gasp, she playfully swatted at him. “Don’t say such things out in the open, ponies could hear!”
“The benefit of living on a large estate is that the neighbors are far away.” Laughing, the two entered their home after one final kiss. “Well, everything looks fine so far. The place hasn’t burnt down.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Ornate chided. “Tonight’s been going so wonderfully, I’d rather not have to deal with a house fire.” An ear perked up. “What’s that?”
Blueblood swiveled his own ear. “Don’t know, sounds like it’s coming from the living room, though.” As the two proceeded down the hall, the sound became distinguishable as Class Act sounding quite angry, causing the pair to hurry their steps.
When they arrived, it was not to see a shouting match between the sitter and their children, but to the young mare and their daughter wearing makeshift cloaks while confronting their son who had his mane done up in two spiral buns.
“Your reign of terror ends here, Grogar! We, Celeste and Selene, shall vanquish you and this foul city to the abyss it belongs!” Class Act declared righteously, stomping a hoof. A stuffed animal squeaked underhoof, its countless brethren lay scattered across the floor, battered and beaten.
“Yes, no longer shall you disturb the rest of the dearly departed for your twisted schemes!” Pure added, a surprising amount of conviction in her words.
This passion was not shared with her brother however, as he stood upon the coffee table looking dully down at the girls. “You are fools to come here, the center of Tambelon, where my strength is at its greatest. Mere foals such as you are nothing compared to the dark powers of the Bewitching Bell.” Despite the monotone delivery, it was impressive for a foal so young to speak with such complexity.
Class smirked. “You are the fool, ram, for while you may be able to channel all of its power here, it is still your weakness, and you’ve let us get this close.”
“And have been so easily distracted.” Pure added. “You’ve focused so much on the decimation of your undead army, you didn’t even notice you were open to a surprise attack.”
“What,” Little Blueblood said, turning slowly to the space behind him to see a small bell be toppled by one of his tin soldiers. “Noooo.”
“Return to the shadow realm where you belong, monster, and never return,” whispered Class, closing her eyes. “Aaand scene…”
“Yeah! We won!” Pureblood cheered, kicking a toy. “Take that, zombies!”
“Yes, and it only took twenty-two takes. Good job memorizing your lines, Blueblood, or should I say, Grogar, Lord of the Undead? See, I told you it wasn’t that hard.”
“Right,” the colt replied. “Can I just go to bed now?”
“Blueblood actually wanting to go to bed early? Dear, did you give birth to triplets and not tell me? Because that is obviously an evil twin,” the elder Blueblood said from the sidelines.
The eyes of both twins snapped to their parents. “Mommy, Daddy!” they both cheered, rushing over to be swept up in hugs.
“Oh, my babies!” Ornate said, showering them both in kisses. “How was your night?”
“Great!” Pure began, “Class had these really fun idea to act out the battle scene from this really cool play and it was so much fun!”
“Yeah, because you got to beat up the toys. I had to stand in one place the whole time,” little Blueblood complained, ruffling his mane until the buns came undone.
“You weren’t just standing there, you were controlling an army of the undead,” countered Pure. “That’s plenty fun.”
“That’s right,” Class added with a sage nod. “One of the keys to a good performance is to make yourself believe in what you are acting. Good job, Pure, I’m glad you remembered.”
“Riiight,” the father said. “Well besides epic battles and world saving, did you do anything else interesting tonight?”
As soon as the question left his mouth, his son’s eyes began shifting about while Pure’s dropped down.
“Well…” Class Act said, looking at the two children, expression hesitant. “No… not really. All in all, it was a pretty boring night until, you know, the play. They slept for a while, had some snacks, we played… tag, and then this. Perfectly normal night.”
“That’s good to hear,” Ornate said, sighing in relief. “I was worried something would go wrong like you’d have been driven mad or something. The twins, especially this little rascal-“ she rubbed the top of her son's head, “Can be pretty difficult at times.”
“Nah, it was a great time.” Class said with a wave. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“We’ll definitely keep you in mind,” Ornate, said, placing her foals down. “What do you two think?”
While Blueblood looked indifferent, his sister stared at the young mare like she was an alicorn before charging forward and hugging her foreleg. “You’re the greatest first cousin, once removed ever.”
Class Act blinked down at the filly before smiling fondly. “And you’re the greatest, um, cousin’s daughter, ever. And Bluey?” the colt turned to her. “… You’re okay too.”
After he snorted in response, Ornate took the foals to their room as her husband led their guest to the exit. “Are you okay, you seem to have a bit of a limp?”
“Ah, it’s nothing, just hurt my hoof… punching stuffed animals. Things are pretty hard.”
“Ornate, why are all the hallway light bulbs missing?”
“No idea. Do you know why the lid to the cookie jar is off… or why the jar is empty?”
It’s intimidating and beautiful at the same time, the castle. I could see the tops of the spires from my backyard, but never really thought much of them, figuring they were merely the tip of skyscrapers or something. Those were a familiar sight from my previous life where I would spend any time without a book staring out the window of my room instead.
Perhaps that's why I ignored them until now; they were reminders of a life I’d rather not remember. Seeing it in its entirety now, however, with the knowledge that I'll be spending the day there with actual royalty has filled me with excitement. Some good, and some bad.
The stone faced guards at the entrance snapping very dangerous looking spears down to bar our path did not help calm my nerves. “Halt, who goes there!?” they call in unison, staring intently at my father as he steps forward, clearing his throat.
“Gentlestallions, it’s always good to see the royal guard so diligent,” he says, his attempts at small talk ignored. With a small sigh, he continues, “My family and I have come to visit with my aunt, Princess Celestia. I’m sure she’s left a message with you about our coming. Blueblood?”
Directing a hoof to himself, the armored stallions look him up and down, then glance our way before turning to each other and nodding. “Yes, she informed us you would be coming today. She’s waiting for you in her study if you would like for one of us to escort you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Dad replies easily. “It’s been a while, but I still remember my way around. Thank you, though.”
Nodding to him, the guards allow us passage. Never having seen such big stallions before, I smile nervously at them as we pass, but little Blueblood salutes. The fact that one of them salutes back makes my being intimidated by them kind of ridiculous.
That’s forgotten as I soon find myself walking through hallways so large that they seem more like roads. I know Princess Celestia is large, but this place looks like it would be better suited for giants than ponies. Speaking of ponies, there are many; mares dressed in maid outfits or stallions in fine penny coats.
I haven’t seen this many new ponies since my birthday, though they aren’t family, and I unconsciously move further under my mother’s legs. My brother has no such problem as he runs to and fro, diving under hoof and nearly causing some of the castle staff to trip as he gazes up at the expensive paintings hung up on the walls.
It’s more than a few times Dad has to call the little colt back to his side and scold him under his breath, but most of the ponies Dad apologizes to only laugh it off, commenting how cute we twins are. Both my mother and I beam at the praise and I eventually end up out from under my mother.
After a wrong turn or two that my father adamantly denies happened, we arrive at a more simple, relatively normal sized door. I look around, expecting some unicorn to be putting on a magic show or something as I feel a pressure against my horn, but there is nobody. Also, has it gotten hotter in here? Huh, must be my imagination.
With three quick knocks on the door by Dad, a familiar voice calls for us to come in and we enter into what makes me think of a miniature library. The wall to the left consists entirely of a bookcase, while the right is nearly the same, save for the middle which sports an unlit fireplace. The far wall is mostly one large window with a desk set in front of it.
“Aunty!” both Bluebloods shout, the smaller one charging around the desk to jump up at its occupant. “It’s so nice to see you again! It’s been, what, eight months?”
Surprised, Celestia still smiles brightly at the little pony trying to get into her lap and reaches down. “Nephew, Ornate, it’s so good to see you!” she says, looking from us to a clock above the door. “It’s already past noon? I didn’t even realize or else I would have met you at the entrance.”
“It’s fine, Princess, I’m sure you were busy with your work,” Mom says, looking at the large pile of paper on the desk. “It looks like there’s a lot of it.”
Celestia sighs tiredly. “Don’t I know it,” she says, rubbing a temple with one hoof while the other cradles her nephew. “Pure, are you alright?”
“Uh, sorta,” I answer, rubbing my own temple in hopes of easing the pressure building there. It also feels as if I’m sitting in front of a fire right now, which is strange since I can clearly see that the fireplace is empty. If that weren’t distracting enough, I also couldn’t grasp exactly what I was seeing on the princess’ head. “What’s um, what’s with your mane?”
Reaching up to touch the flowing locks in confusion, her eyes and the eyes of my parents suddenly grew wide. “My magic!” Squeezing her eyes shut, the princess’ regal features screw up in concentration and her hair slowly starts to lose its gravity defying properties. Eventually, it is nearly all down, but it retains the multiple colors instead of becoming the solid pink I first saw her with.
While she was doing this, Mom scooped me up and started bombarding me with questions like if I was in pain or wanted to go home. “No, I’m fine, Mommy, my head is starting to feel normal now.” I look again to the princess. “But what was that? Why isn’t your mane pink anymore?”
“I’m sorry, little one, but how you saw it before is how my mane is most of the time,” Celestia began to explain, letting the colt in her lap swat at the stray strands that were still attempting to float up. “Usually, I allow magic to pass through my mane, giving it a more… flowing appearance. It is a habit that initially came about as a way to burn up excess magic when I was younger and going through a particularly strong magical growth spurt. After a while however, it just became second nature.
“I am truly sorry if it caused you any discomfort,” she finishes, voice thick with regret. “I should have been paying closer attention to the time so as to be prepared for your arrival.”
“It’s okay, Aunty, it didn’t hurt, it just felt kinda like somepony was pushing down on my horn. And hot. It was weird.” As Mom places me gently back on the floor, I walk over and she reaches down to greet me. Nuzzling up under her hoof, I smile at her. “Don’t be sad.”
Really, remembering back on my brother’s magical surges, I can only imagine how destructive those of an alicorn princess could be. Any action taken to belay that sort of havoc was okay in my book.
With a gentle smile, the alicorn picks me up and places me next to my brother. “If it’s not hurting Pure, than I say keep it this way,” Little Blueblood declared, shifting a hoof through the multi-colored mane. “It’s really pretty.”
“Thank you, little one,” Celestia responds, “though my magic is not fully reined in as it was at your birthday party. It’s not bothering you at all, is it, Pureblood.”
Taking a moment, I close my eyes to focus, and I determine that the pressure is much less noticeable now. It was like somepony was levitating a mildly heavy object, but it far from hurt, and that’s what I tell her.
“She’s getting better every day,” Dad says cheerfully. “I’m honestly looking forward to her next appointment with the doctor at this point. I’m sure he’ll be impressed.”
“Speak for yourself,” Mom mumbles before speaking louder. “Pure, are you still okay to spend the day here? We can go home if you want.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” I answer exasperatedly. Dad is right, I really have gotten much better, but she still wants to treat me like an invalid. “I want to stay and play with Aunty Celestia.”
“The girl is right dear,” Dad says, backing me up. “There’s no safer place than here in the castle. Why, it even has its own medical wing and doctors if anything happens.” When Mom bites her lip, he quickly adds, “Not that it will be needed. Aunty will take great care of them.”
“Indeed I will. After seven months, I must admit that I have been looking forward to this day,” Celestia says, giving my mom a serious look. “You have my word, Ornate Garden, not a single hair on the heads of these foals shall be hurt. Please, go enjoy yourselves.”
“Yes, and besides, it would be rude to cancel on Ritzy Britches, he was so glad to hear we would be attending his garden party this year.”
Gaze going from Dad to us, Mom finally gives in with a sigh. “Fine, I’m sorry for being such a mother hen, I just worry too much sometimes. We can go.” Eyes suddenly cutting to her colt, she added sternly, “And I want you to be on your best behavior, young stallion. No harassing the castle staff.”
Blueblood for his part only averted his eyes and attempted to whistle, blowing a fine mist of spittle in my direction, much to my chagrin. Eventually, our parents took their leave, and the three of us sat in silence for a moment.
“So… should we visit the kitchen first? Fresh scones should be coming out of the oven about now, and I’m feeling a bit peckish.”
“What are scones?” Blueblood asks.
“Little cakes meant to be eaten with tea,” she answers, licking her lips. “The castle's pastry chef uses a particularly sweet recipe.”
Both my brother and I look up at the alicorn with wonder. Is she really suggesting sweets… for lunch? At most, we are each allowed a single cookie, and only after something healthy, hardy, and usually unappetizing. Really, not even cutting the crust off can make a tomato, parsnip, and lettuce sandwich appealing.
Truly, Equestria is ruled by a goddess. Over our enthusiastic answers of absolutely yes, Celestia laughs. “Okay, okay, to the kitchen first to pick up food, then I think we’ll go to the gardens to eat. That is, if you can wait that long?”
For a lunch of cake, I’d wait an eternity… Well, maybe, more like a fifteen minutes, but still, that’s probably how long it will take to get to the garden what with how big this castle is, so it’s fine. Plus, we’re getting a piggyback ride, so wins all around.
As the small alicorn made her way through the halls, she tried her best to keep her head held high, but it was difficult when doing so would mean potentially making eye contact with somepony. This was even harder to do when she was expected to stand tall while conversing with others, especially if it was with one of the very intimidating guards. But alas, as Princess Celestia said, if there was ever a time the young filly couldn’t find her, the guards would always be able to point her in the right direction.
It was actually kind of creepy how they always knew where their princess was, even if she was in one of the castle's many bathrooms. She wondered briefly if it was some sort of job requirement for applicants to have prior stalking experience or something. “Oh! S-sorry,” the pink filly squeaked as she stepped out of the path of a maid pushing a laundry cart.
The maid giving her a quick, nearly frantic apology didn’t sit right with her. She was the one with her head in the clouds; the mare had done nothing wrong. “Just another thing to get used to, I guess,” the filly mumbled. Just over two years now, and it still felt strange to be treated like royalty, let alone to be considered as such. She’d be perfectly happy going home to her adopted family and forgetting all this, but alas, the horn on her head was a pretty big reminder, not just for her, but for everypony she met.
With a sigh, she took in her surroundings, trying to match them with her crude mental map of the castle. It wouldn’t do to get lost. She’d have to ask for directions, which meant not only having to talk, but also meant distracting a pony from their work. It was all very mortifying, especially after how many times her teachers told her how important it was for one in her position to never appear uncertain. The ponies of Equestria needed to know their princesses were always in control.
Thankfully, she determined her location after recognizing one of the paintings on the wall and was on her way again. The princess was probably having tea in the gardens, and Cadance could not deny that the idea of joining her was appealing. Through all the craziness that was her life over the past two years, Princess Celestia was the one true bright spot. Even though she’d only known the mare for a short time, she already considered her family, and vice versa.
“Aunt Celestia?” she called as she entered the gardens. “Are you out here?”
Giggles could be heard as her aunt called out, “Yes, we’re having tea by the lavender and hydrangeas. Please, come join us.”
That was strange, Cadance wondered who the princess would be drinking tea with out here. The garden was reserved for informal occasions such as when she took a break by herself or when she wanted to spend time with Cadance outside of princess lessons. Any other time, such as meeting with a noble outside of day court, and she’d have her tea inside.
It was sad to say, but while Princess Celestia was friendly with just about everypony, she was friends with very few. Cadance picked up her pace, perhaps she’d find her Aunt with a secret coltfriend. Wouldn’t that make for an exciting discovery? Rounding a cypress tree, the filly princess was surprised to see that, while her Aunt was with a colt, there was a filly as well, and they were both much younger than her.
“Aunt Celestia, whose foals are those?” Cadance found herself asking. While a coltfriend would have been a surprise, already starting a secret family with him would be too crazy even for her. The white coat shared between the three was not helping disprove the hypothesis.
“This one here-” she gestures to the colt lacing flowers through her limp mane, “is Blueblood the 17th, and the one over there, half hidden in the flowers acting like a scone-hoarding dragon, is Pureblood. They are my nephew and niece.”
“Oh,” Cadance replied, coughing into her hoof to hide the blush on her cheeks. That made more sense. “I didn’t know you had any other nieces or nephews besides me.”
“You're Aunty Celestia’s niece too?” the filly, Pureblood, asked, before suddenly looking self-conscious and wiping crumbs from her lips. “Are you related to Daddy then?”
“Not quite,” Cadance answered, a soft smile on her lips as she looked at the little cutie. “Princess Celestia adopted me after, well, I got this to go with these.” The pink pony points to her horn and flares her wings, getting a slight gasp from both foals.
“You’re an alicorn too?” Pure asked. “Wait, you got a horn? You mean you weren’t born with it?”
“Er, no,” Cadance began, scratching the side of her head while she tried to think of how to explain the events leading up to her ascension. It was tough when she didn’t even understand it completely herself. “See, there was this witch named Prismia who was using this magic necklace and stealing love, making everypony mean and hateful until she tried it on me and I guess I sorta overloaded the necklace with my love for my friends and family, then she became good and I found myself in some bluish-white, misty place and Celestia was there, I think there was a song, but maybe that was just the adrenaline, but after that, I had a horn and my cutie mark and I was a princess… Yeah, it was a crazy day.”
While Pureblood had an eyebrow raised incredulously, Blueblood stared slack jawed. “You can become an alicorn princess?” he asked slowly, then suddenly jumping to his hooves. “That’s so cool! Aunty Celestia, can I be an alicorn princess-er- prince!? Pretty please!”
Leaning back from the pleading eyes suddenly mere inches from her own, Celestia said, “I’m sorry, Blueblood, but alicornhood is not something I am capable of bestowing upon others, it is something that must be earned.” When he began to deflate, she added, “But as for princehood, that is something you already have if you so wish. For the Platinum line, your family, the first born of the main house is given the honorary title of prince or princess.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it is a tradition that has carried on for nearly a thousand years ever since your ancestor, the first Blueblood, stepped forward to aid the kingdom in its darkest hour. As a reward for his services to his kingdom and as personal thanks from myself, he was given a royal title.”
“Wow, you never told me about that, Aunt Celestia, even after all of our history lessons together,” Cadance said. “What was Equestria’s darkest hour?”
Celestia’s expression became pained. “A very important pony was lost to us…” was all she said on the subject before giving her head a slight shake. “Anyway, as I was saying, you are already a prince, my little pony, just as your father technically is. Though, he never wished to take an active role in governing of the kingdom.”
Blueblood was quiet a moment before bursting into a wide grin and trotting in a tight circle. “I’m a prince, I’m a prince!” he cheered before rearing up to put his front hooves on Celestia’s chest. “Don’t worry, Aunty, I’m gonna be the best prince ever and help you lots so you can play with us more. Pureblood will help to since she’s really smart. I bet with both of us, you won’t even have to lift a hoof, and before you know it, we’ll both be alicorns for doing so good!”
“Actually,” Pure cut in, “I don’t think I’m a princess if only the oldest-”
“Of course you are,” Blueblood declared with a dismissive hoof wave. “I wanna start now! Look, there’s a weed! The gardener must not be doing his job right. We better call him in for a review.”
As the colt went on about how the orange flowers should be over by the purple ones, his sister began to wiggle, her hind legs rubbing together.
“Is something wrong, Pureblood?” Cadance asked, tilting her head.
“Um, I kinda have to use the little filly's room,” she mumbled, a small blush coming to her cheeks. “I think I drank too much tea.”
“Not surprising with how many scones you’ve eaten,” Celestia mused. “You must have had at least three cups now to wash them all down. Don’t worry, I’ll take you.”
“I’ll do it,” Cadance said as the larger alicorn began to rise. “I kind of have to go too, so it’ll be feeding two birds with one scone.”
“Oh, well then thank you, Cadance.” Celestia sat back down, her nephew quickly settling down between her forelegs and continuing to go over all the changes he would make. “Blueblood and I will remain here and hash out a new tax code.”
“Yes, that sounds very important,” Blueblood said with a sage nod. “Taxi’s should have some blue on them to go with the yellow. Blue and yellow are the best colors.”
Everypony shared a laugh at that. “Okay, Prince Blueblood,” Pureblood said with a giggle. “Do you think you can watch my scones while I’m gone? I don’t care if the birds are hungry, they can go find some bread crumbs.”
The colt gave a salute, and Cadance began leading Pureblood back through the halls. “So… the two of you are the princess' niece and nephew, huh? I didn’t realize she had any siblings,” the older filly said, the two speed walking before the younger had an accident in the hall.
“Hmm, I’m not really sure how it works,” Pure answered distractedly. “I asked dad about it and he said we’re actually her super great niece and nephew. Did you know Princess Celestia is like thousands of years old?”
“Yeah,” Cadance answered, her own gaze going distant. “I’ve heard it’s because she’s an alicorn, but I’ve never actually asked… I’m afraid of what her answer will be.”
“Oh… um, you said you beat a witch, right? That must have been scary. And you’re not even a grownup.”
“It was scary,” Cadance answered truthfully. “But she was hurting my village, my friends and family, and she was going to hurt even more ponies, so I just… acted. It was crazy, I was only six years old and this was a grown mare using dark magic, but I did it anyways because everypony else was already under her spell. I was the only one left unaffected, and I knew I at least had to try. Who would have thought a stupid filly could save the day, huh?”
“You weren’t stupid,” Pureblood said, looking up at the bigger filly with awe. "That’s the bravest thing I’ve ever heard, and you won too. You’re like a super hero.”
“Nah, I was just lucky,” Cadance replied, blushing.
“Well, I know I never could have done that. I probably would have run away.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain. I probably would have run away too, I was scared enough, but there were ponies precious to me that I couldn’t let down. I’m sure you’d have done the same thing if your brother or parents were in trouble.”
“Maybe… I hope that never happens though.”
“Me neither,” Cadance said, looking up from the little filly. “Hey… do you happen to know why Celestia’s mane was all, you know, limp? I’ve only ever seen it like that when she first gets up in the morning.”
“That was, um that was because of me. I got this condition where magic makes me feel funny when I’m around it. A lot can even hurt, so Aunty Celestia is trying to keep her magic away from me.” The filly looked to the floor, ears dropping a little bit. “I wish I didn’t have to bother her like that, or anypony else, but I can’t do anything other than wait and hope I get better.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t bother her at all, Pureblood,” Cadance reassured. “Why, it would bother her more to know she was hurting you.”
Pureblood didn’t seem convinced and the two continued walking. Why did the castle have to be this big anyway? The governing of Equestria could probably be done from a building a third the size.
“You know, it’s weird, but your magic feels kinda different too now that I’m walking close to you,” Pureblood suddenly said. “When I’m around Aunty, even when she’s not using her magic, it feels like I’m standing outside on a sunny day, but not. Like it’s warm all over, but I don’t sweat. With you, I feel warm, but from the inside, like I just drank three cups of hot chocolate. I even get kinda fidgety like from eating too much sugar.”
“Really?” Cadance asked. That sounded strange, was it only because she and Celestia were alicorns? “Does the magic of other ponies feel different?”
“Mmm, sorta. I can’t feel other ponies magic except for when they’re actually doing stuff with it, but I can tell my brother’s magic from other ponies, and it’s the same way with my parents. I can’t really describe it like I do with yours and Celestia’s though, with my family, it’s just familiar, you know?”
“Not really,” Cadance replied, “but I can understand the sentiment. You recognize magic like the rest of us recognize voices and stuff. Oh, look, the bathroom.”
“About time!” Pureblood exclaimed, rushing up to the door and shouldering it open with a grunt. “I was starting to think I’d burst before we made it.”
“Maybe you should tell your brother and Aunt Celestia to add renovations to the list. You can never have too many bathrooms,” Cadance said jokingly, entering behind the foal, seeing Pureblood already shutting a door to one of the stalls. “Um, do you need any help in there?”
“No! I got it!” Pure yelled back, a trickling sound soon following.
Phew, good, Cadance may have been pretty good with foals, but holding the hoof of a filly she just had a surprisingly mature conversation with while she tinkled would have been weird. Pureblood definitely didn’t act like a foal, that was for sure.
Stepping into a stall herself, Cadance went about her business quickly so as not to keep her temporary ward waiting. She did have a head start, after all.
Just like with Celestia, I find it hard to believe Cadance is actually supposed to be a princess. I suppose it could be that she’s so young, but she just acts so… normal. Walking back to the gardens, the conversation has been far less heavy and I’m learning much of my new, sort-of relative. She’s kind, considerate, and funny to boot, nothing like what I would expect from a haughty royal. Maybe that’s just a king and queen thing and that’s why there are only princesses in Equestria.
Entering the gardens, I file that question away for later, but for now, I’m more curious about what’s going on between Celestia and my brother. Blueblood is sullen, sitting between Aunt Celestia’s forelegs with his ears down as he speaks and she listens. “We’re back!” Cadance called as we approached, causing my brother to jolt a little. “Pureblood and I agree that you need to get more bathrooms put in this place, Aunt Celestia. I do not like having to walk a mile whenever I need to use the little filly’s room.”
“What do you mean? The bathroom in the west wing is only a minute away.”
Cadance stops in her tracks for a few seconds before facehoofing. “… Forgot about that one.”
Celestia chuckles. “Perhaps a happy medium would be to place maps up around the castle instead of renovating?”
As the princesses talk, I move up to Blueblood. “Hey, what’s up? Why do you look sad?”
“What? I’m not sad,” Blueblood says, looking away and crossing his forelegs. “That was my serious face since ruling a kingdom is serious business. We agreed that taxis should be blue, yellow, and have flames painted on the sides so they’ll go faster. Think of all the time ponies will save!”
I giggle. “Wow, you’re really helping the citizens of Equestria out, Bluey. Princess Celestia may want to be careful or she might lose the title of best princess.”
“That’s best prince, and yes, she might,” Blueblood answered with a firm nod. “But that’s why we’re gonna share all the credit for our bestest ideas. If I do too good, ponies will start demanding I become emperor and Aunty Celestia will be banished. It would be really hard for us to play together if she wasn’t allowed in Equestria anymore.”
I burst out into laughter at this as Blueblood simply stares befuddled. Maybe Grandpa Shield should stop telling his grandson so many historical war stories, especially when just about half of them are about coups in the Gryphon Kingdom.
When Blueblood demands to know what’s so funny, I tell him it’s nothing. “Girls are crazy,” he grumbles, getting another round of laughter from me.
“Have any… twos?” Blueblood tried, peeking over his cards hopefully.
“Nnnope,” I answer, popping the p. I have to fight the smirk down as Bluey groans and throws his hooves up. I really want to learn poker so that I can own my brother at it. He takes wearing his heart on his sleeve to the next level, though, perhaps that's because he doesn’t wear sleeves.
“You cheat,” he declared, slamming his cards down and crossing his hooves with a harrumph.
I take this as a declaration of surrender and finally release the grin I was holding back. “I win again then? How ‘bout best three out of five?”
“No, you cheat. You’re a cheater.”
“Come on, do you really think I would be that deceitful with you?”
“To win? Yep.”
I give him a playful shove and the first inklings of a smile begins to break through his soured visage. “You know, maybe if you didn’t give up so quick, you could actually turn things around,” I propose.
“For he that fights and runs away, may live to fight another day,” Blueblood recites confidently, quoting Grandpa Shield and ignoring my incredulous stare.
“Riiight, I don’t think that works in Go Fish.”
“Yes it does, you just don’t think so ‘cause you're not smart like me.”
“Oh yeah?” What’s six plus eleven?” I counter with narrowed eyes, feeling triumphant as my brother sputters and blushes.
“It’s, uh, it’s… um sixteen.”
“Seventeen,” I correct, getting a glare. “Who’s the smart one again?”
“Well… Well, you’re the one teaching me math, so my wrong answer is your fault. You’re a bad teacher!”
I gasp at the accusation, pushing the hoof thrown in my face to the side. “You take that back, you little ingrate! You wouldn’t even be able to count your hooves if it weren’t for me!”
“No,” is his witty response. He even goes so far as to stick his tongue out at me in the ultimate sign of disrespect. Oh, he was going to get it.
What followed was a battle for the ages as brother and sister fought for the title of smartest twin. The subjects of Playroom were divided into opposing factions and soon knew the horrors of war as their leaders made them take up arms. Friendships shattered, families were torn apart, and all knew only sadness and sorrow. For ten minutes the war waged on, the once kind and benevolent rulers not yielding even as buttons were lost and innocent stuffing spilled.
The war waged until, in a display of dastardly cunning, Prince Blueblood twisted Fluffykins, Duchess of Cotton Balls, and used the noble hare to strike down her own princess.
“Yield!” Blueblood shouts, bringing the stuffed bunny down in a swift strike upon my head. “Yield!”
“Ne- oomph- never!” To think my own brother would sink so low as to turn my own toys against me. Has he no shame! “I will never yield to a malefactor such as you!”
“I don’t know what that is!” Blueblood yells, smacking me again with the bunny. “Yield!”
“Oof- Huh! See, I am the smarter one! I read the dictionary!”
“That makes you boring, not smart.” Blueblood says, stopping his assault to give a flat stare.
“Does not!” I retort as I struggle to my hooves, my bunny-battered body shaking slightly. “Learning is cool, Mom says!”
“No it’s not.”
“Yes it is!”
“Nooo it’s not.”
Tackling the colt to the ground while he’s distracted, I wrestle Fluffykins from his hooves. “Yes. It. Is!” I punctuate each syllable with a righteous blow, and Blueblood is left to fruitlessly try and shield himself with his hooves.
Suddenly, we hear a door slam somewhere in the house before a familiar voice yells something. Both my brother and I gasp before Blueblood bucks me off and shouts, “Grandpa Shield will agree with me! That’ll prove I’m the smart one and you’re the boring one!”
“No, he’ll agree with me!” I say as I chase after my brother. It’s taken a year and eight months, but I’ve mastered this new body enough to run without tripping every three steps, which is too bad for Blueblood. Putting my all into a sprint and leaping forward, I catch his back legs, causing him to fall down and allowing me to overtake him.
The growl from his lips when I stick my tongue out at him from over my shoulder has me laughing nearly all the way to the entrance. I would have kept laughing all the way into Grandpa Shield's embrace too, if I didn’t hear my father yell at him and what was definitely a hoof slamming into the floor
Slowing to a stop, I stand just out of sight at the corner and perk an ear forward. What’s happening?
I hold a hoof up to Blueblood when he tries to enter the foyer, sending him a silent message to be still. For a moment, it’s clear that he wants to argue, but another anger-filled yell has him snapping his jaw shut and hesitantly stepping closer.
“I know you had something to do with this, going behind my back, talking to the princess about me. I never thought my own son would be so traitorous,” Grandpa growls.
“Dad, I neither know what you are talking about nor what makes you think you can come barging into my house like this to berate me, but if you continue, I will not hesitate to kick you out.”
“Oh yeah, how are you going to manage that? You think just because you got the princess’ ear you’re some sort of bigshot?”
Dad sighs. “Have you been drinking? Because you aren’t making any sense. Especially if you think I can’t remove you from my own home by force.”
“I’m a soldier!”
“A retired soldier! Dad, you haven’t seen action in over twenty years!”
“My country still needs me, don’t you get that!? I can help the next generation! I can pass on what I know!”
“Do you really believe that that is really so important? If you aren’t doing work you begged the princess for, you’re sitting up at that cabin by yourself.” Dad’s voice goes from tight to having the slightest waver. “Dad, why can’t you let that life go?”
“Because it’s all I have left!” I had peeked around the corner to see Grandpa Shield with hot tears in his eyes. “I wasn’t able to save your mother, and now you’re trying to stop me from doing what little good left I can do. I can help Equestria, its ponies; the princess believed so… at least until you convinced her otherwise.”
“Dad…” the younger stallion tries, hoof rising as if to reach for his father before stalling. “Dad, what happened to Mom was an accident. It wasn’t your fault, or anypony's. Listen, I don’t know what you think I did, but I haven’t spoken more than a few words to Aunty in months, and what was said wasn’t about you.
“Maybe… maybe Celestia believes it’s finally time for you to move on; you’re supposed to be retired for a reason. It’s time for you to put aside your armor and spend time with your family. We- Ornate and I, we’ve talked about it, and we both believe it’d be for the best if you moved in with us. Sitting at that cabin, dwelling on the past, it’s not healthy.”
As he says this, Dad steps forward and makes to hug his father, but his hoof is slapped away as Grandpa Shield glares. “What? You think I’m crazy, is that what you’re suggesting? Just a crazy old stallion by himself in the woods. Is that what you told the princess? You know, she was telling me the same thing, that I should stay in Canterlot. Now I can see where she got the idea.”
“For the last time, I never spoke with Princess Celestia you stubborn-!”
“It was me!” little Blueblood shouts, pushing past me as I’m too stunned to move. As I watched the older ponies fight, my heart began to pound against my rib cage. I couldn’t keep the memories at bay, couldn’t get the image of my human parents fighting, yelling, and hating each other from the forefront of my mind. Everypony just seemed so happy here that I began to believe somewhere along the line that they simply couldn’t be like this to one another.
The mere prospect of my new family going through that, falling apart in any regard, freezes me in place as I listen to my brother continue. “I’m sorry Grandpa! I didn’t mean to make you sad, I just miss you so much when you go away!”
“Wha-Bluey? What are you talking about?” Grandpa Shield asks, kneeling down to receive his grandson.
Leaping into the embrace, Blueblood cried, “When Pure and I were at- at the castle, Au-aunty Celestia asked me how I was feeling, and-and I told her I wish I could see you more. I’m so-sorry!”
“Shh, shh, calm down little one, it’s okay.”
“No it’s not. You’re mad and yelling at daddy and it’s all my fault. I just wanted to see you more! I-I didn’t know she would take your job!”
As Shield hushes the crying colt, Dad steps forward and sits. “Blueblood, you didn’t do anything wrong, you were just being honest. You know, if I’m to be honest, I’d like to see Dad more too, we all would.”
Leveling a meaningful look at the older stallion, Grandpa returns the gaze with a tightened jaw for a bit before releasing a sigh. “Okay, I see what you and the princess have been getting at. I… I guess it is time for me to retire for real instead of just officially.”
Stroking the colt’s mane, Grandpa closes his eyes. “It’s hard though, knowing that I can be out there, helping Equestria, keeping it safe, even if it’s not on the frontlines.”
“But you can keep us safe!” little Blueblood exclaimed. “Yeah, um, if you live with us, you can keep us safe, Mom and Dad, Pure and me! You can protect Canterlot and Princess right from here!”
Blinking a few times, Grandpa chuckles. “I guess I can, and hey, fresh recruits still train here in Canterlot, I don’t have to visit every camp in Equestria.” He rubs his chin in thought. “Hey, would you like to train with me too, lad? I whipped your father into shape growing up, I’m sure I can do the same for you.”
While the colt smiles broadly, the color drains from Dad’s face. “H-hey now, we haven’t even gotten everything worked out yet, like when and if you’ll be moving in with us, when we’ll be able to collect your things from the cabin- there’s no need to start making up workout routines.”
“Nonsense!” Grandpa declares, standing while sticking his grandson on his back. “I was planning on getting a hotel room after we… well, settled things here, but I might as well stay the night, save some bits. We’ll have plenty of time to work everything out so I’m sure it will all be settled by morning. Then I can begin this little one’s training regimen first thing in the morning.”
Dad went to say something, but the matching grins of his father and son had him sighing instead. They all seem happy now, or at least not mad, and I begin to slowly step out, legs feeling like jelly. My heartbeat has begun to settle, but I still feel nervous and afraid. “D-daddy, Grandpa?”
Dad’s eyes snap to me and the beginnings of a smile start to form before falling away. “Pureblood? Honey, what’s the matter?” he asks, walking over to pick me up. He looks over to Grandpa. “Did… did you hear us fighting too?”
“Mhmm,” is as much as an answer I can muster as I wipe my eyes dry. “Dad, do… do you and Grandpa Shield… hate each other?”
“What?” Dad replies, eyes wide. “Of course not! What would make you think such a thing?”
“Because you were yelling at each other.”
“Oh…” rubbing the back of his neck, Dad clears his throat. “Well, um, sometimes, grownups get mad and yell instead of talking there problems out properly. It isn’t right, but it doesn’t mean they hate each other.”
“He’s right,” Grandpa chimes in, regret clear in his voice as he comes closer. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that. I was mad, but I could never stop loving your father. He’s my son after all, even if he couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag.”
As Blueblood and I giggle at that, Dad glares. “Hey! Just because I didn’t join the royal guard like you kept trying to push me into doesn’t mean I’m a pushover.”
“Maybe before you moved out of the house when you were younger, but you haven’t been keeping up with your training since then. Your legs might as well be toothpicks for how skinny they are. And don’t even get me started on that gut!”
“Wha-? I’ll have you know Ornate has to beat the ladies off of me with a stick when we go out together!”
“Yes, I’ll never understand this new infatuation girls have with mareish-looking stallions.”
“Mareish? I have a mustache!”
Shaking his head, Grandpa repeats, “I’ll never understand…”
Staring out the window to the garden, Blueblood the 16th watches with a soft smile as his father plays with the twins. It was a side of the stallion he had not seen nearly enough of since his mother passed all those years ago, though he hoped that would be rectified soon.
“Blueblood? I was told you wanted to see me,” Ornate began as she entered the room. “I was only gone for thirty minutes to do some grocery shopping with Cutting Board. Surely nothing too bad has happened since then.”
“Oh no, nothing bad,” Blueblood said, turning to his beautiful wife. “Well, I suppose it could have been bad, almost was even, but no, things have worked out fine. Better even. Come see for yourself.”
Ornate raised an eyebrow. “Oookay, be cryptic why don’t you,” she said as she moved to the window to see what her husband was gesturing at. “Your father? What’s he doing here? He usually sends a letter in advance announcing his visits, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, his visit was quite the surprise, and like I said, it wasn’t shaping up to be a good one. It seems Aunty Celestia has decided to no longer send my father all over Equestria to scare trainees anymore. He didn’t take it well.”
“Oh dear, I can understand why,” said Ornate, a confused frown on her face. “But why would that lead to an ‘almost bad’ visit here?”
“Well, he got the thought in his head that I asked Aunty to do it, and he was none too happy with the idea of me meddling in his life. For a moment there, it looked like things were going to come to blows until our son came out and confessed he was the one who told Aunty that he wished his Grandpa wasn’t always gone.”
Ornate gasped. “And was he mad?”
Blueblood shook his head with a small smile. “No, his anger all but evaporated as soon as he saw his grandson. I pray that Blueblood doesn’t realize the power he has over the old soldier any time soon. He could get Dad to do whatever he wanted if he did. As it is, he’s already convinced him to move in after I failed to do so.”
“… Really?”
Blueblood gave his wife a sideways glance. “Is that okay with you? I know we’ve discussed this before, but it was always in hypotheticals.”
“No, no, I’m glad to hear it. Hopefully he’ll finally be able to start moving on, plus the twins adore him, little Blueblood especially. It’s just a surprise is all, I didn’t expect it’d be that easy to convince him, let alone for it to happen in the half-hour I left the house.”
Blueblood chuckled. “Yes, it is quite sudden, but I’m happy, it’s like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I’ve worried about him ever since Mom passed. Worried he’d do something rash or… Well, I’m just glad that that those fears can finally be put to rest… Though I’m a bit worried for our son’s health now.”
Panic entered Ornate’s eyes. “What?”
“Sorry, I simply mean that dear old dad wants to start training our son like he did me. You remember how I told you that was like.”
Ornate relaxed a bit. “Don’t scare me like that,” she began, leaning into her husband. “With Pureblood having to visit the hospital again soon, I’ve been on edge lately. As for the training… maybe it’ll be good for Blueblood; help him burn off some of that extra energy he expends on driving the help crazy.”
“Maybe so, but no colt deserves that sort of torture,” the stallion countered. “I just hope I can get father not to overdo it. I’d rather not explain to ponies why my son is limping wherever he goes.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” assured Ornate, smiling at the sight of her son and daughter rolling on the ground in a laughing fit, their grandfather pulling silly faces while doing a little jig. “He loves those two to bits.”
“Of course he does. How could he not when we have the two most adorable children in Equestria?” Blueblood stated proudly, chest puffed out while his wife rolled her eyes.
“The most adorable, don’t you think that’s exaggerating? They’re more likely in the top five.”
“Oh yeah, like there could ever be one foal cuter than ours, let alone two or three,” said Blueblood before mumbling under his breath, “I married a crazy mare.”
“Keep it up and you’ll be spending the night in the guest room with your father,” Ornate threatened. “Now how about we stop staring out the window like a creepy old couple and go outside? I haven’t seen my foals in nearly forty minutes now, and I’m becoming impatient.”
Chuckling, Blueblood gestured for her to go first and quickly followed behind. Spending some quality time with his family sounded perfect right about now.
“Fall in!” Grandpa Shield yells, scanning the grass in front of him as if there weren’t just a single pony standing at attention. Blueblood, for his part, is taking this a seriously as Grandpa as he stands rigid and steely eyed. “Today, we begin molding that bowl of mashed potatoes you call a body into the hardest of root vegetables, and we won’t be using alchemy! Are you ready to be a turnip, cadet!?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Bluey responds, puffing out his chest.
“Are you ready to train harder than you’ve ever trained in your life!?” Well, that would be easy, since Blueblood has never done more than run away from angered adults, but I don’t mention that as I watch the exchange with an amused smile from the comfort of the sidelines.
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Are you ready to be so exhausted that you’ll seriously contemplate whether getting to the bathroom when nature calls is even worth leaving your bed!?”
A second of confusion, then, “Sir, yes, sir!”
“Are you ready to work so hard you taste blood in your mouth!?”
Blueblood hesitates a moment, before resolving himself. “Sir, yes, sir!”
“Are you ready for every step you take to be an unending agony!?”
“Uh, Sir, yes, sir?”
“Are you ready to run until the lactic acid in your muscles threatens to melt them from your very bones!”
“Uh…”
“Dad, please, the childrens’ birthday is coming in a few months, and I’d rather my son not spend it dead,” Dad calls from an open window, surveying the interaction with a dry expression.
“Hey! This is a military operation! No civies allowed!” Grandpa calls back with narrowed eyes. “Unless you’re willing to come down here and get back in shape, I don’t want to hear it from you.”
Dad’s eyes widen as he breaks out into a cold sweat, gaze going distant in memory. “Um, forget I said anything, have fun, son!”
With that, the stallion pulls his head inside and slams the window shut, leaving a nervous colt and a glaring Shield. “That’s what I thought… Anyway, enough wasting time, let’s get working!”
Seeing the fear in my brother’s eyes, I decide to take pity on him and finally speak up. “Grandpa Shield, maybe you should start slow. This is Bluey’s first day, after all.”
“Hmm? I suppose it is,” the grey stallion agrees, rubbing his chin. After some pondering, he stomps a hoof and exclaims, “A warmup then! It’s always good to get the heart beating before a heavy training session anyway, and it’ll help give me a good idea of where you’re at.” Looking down at the colt whose hopes were just starting to rise, Grandpa declares, “Twenty laps around the garden… Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it recruit!”
I could see Blueblood mouthing the words as he counts, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, before crying, “But I can’t even count that high! How am ever going to run that much?”
“Hey, it’ll be easy,” I say, moving to his side. As much fun as it is to watch my overzealous grandfather in his element, I’d rather not see him break my brother’s spirit on day one. He’s been looking forward to impressing Grandpa with this ever since he moved in a week ago. “I’ll even run with you and count the laps.”
Giving a small but grateful smile, Blueblood nods as Grandpa says in his booming voice, “You want to join too, Pureblood? Excellent! The more the merrier! You’ll be the strongest lass this side of Equestria.”
Fighting down the urge to roll my eyes, I trot over to the edge of the garden with my brother and wait for Grandpa to give us the signal. Twenty laps would be more than I’ve ever run in one go, and I’ll probably be suffering at least one of Grandpa’s colorful descriptions afterwards, but helping Bluey out will be worth it.
Hopefully he won’t get too far ahead of me, since I’ll be the once counting the laps.
Well, this is surprising, Stalwart thought as he watched his grandfoals finish their warmup. Or more accurately, Pureblood finished.
“Aaand twenty! Woo! That was exhilarating!” Pure stated as she slowed to stop, though she continued to trot in place for a few seconds as she turned around. “Come on, Bluey! You can do it! It’s only, like, four or five more laps!” A blush came to her cheeks. “I, eheh, I guess I lost track.”
Little Blueblood was practically crawling at this point, and Shield had to stifle his laughter. He had no intention of pushing the children too hard, much of his speech being fueled by nostalgia than an actual desire to drive them into the ground like his own drill sergeant did when he first enlisted, but he didn’t think twenty laps would be that much. Why, Pure still had energy to spare, it seemed.
“Okay, that’s enough cadet, you can stop now.” As soon as the words were spoken, Blueblood collapsed on his side and panted heavily.
“Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to get you some water or something?” Pure asked as she approached her brother, concern plain on her face.
Gulping, the colt put a hoof up, silently asking for a moment, before he finally responded, “Just… just need to… to catch… my breath.” A minute later of both Pure and Shield waiting, and little Blueblood finally started to pull himself to his hooves. Stalwart could see him try and act dignified, a trait he probably picked up from his father at some point, but the beet-red face and flaring nostrils betrayed him. “See? All better. And how are you?”
Eyes closed as he wiped his sweat-drenched mane from his forehead, he failed to notice his sister roll her own. “I’m good. Better actually.” The wide smiled returned to her face. “That was great! I just feel so- so alive! I want to go another twenty laps!”
Shield laughed heartily at that, scooping the filly up and tousling her mane. “There’s no mistaking you’re my granddaughter!” he said as his laughing died down to a rumbling chuckle. “Guess it skipped a generation with your father.”
“H-hey, I liked it too!” Blueblood suddenly said. “I just, um… had a cramp, yeah! I can finish my laps now!” Without waiting for a response, the colt started sprinting, the heaving breaths he had been trying to hide returning in full force. To his credit, he made it two more laps before disaster struck, though maybe Shield should have stopped him before that.
No doubt the elder Blueblood would be chewing him out for this.
“Mom! Blueblood is sick!” Pure yelled as she ran into the kitchen, causing Ornate to nearly spill the pot of vegetable stew she was stirring. Luckily, Cutting Board, their chef, was there to steady the pot with a hoof, which he quickly whipped back with a yelp.
As the stallion moved his hoof under a cold stream of water, Ornate gave him a brief apology before kneeling to her daughter. Pure was hopping from hoof to hoof and Ornate had to fight from doing the same. The idea of either of her foals being ill or injured had her ready to send for a doctor that instant, but she knew it wouldn’t do to jump to conclusions just yet. “Where is he, Sweetie, what happened? Take me to him.”
Her legs were moving before her lips and Ornate nearly tripped trying to follow the filly. “We were exercising with Grandpa and I was having a lot of fun but Blue was getting tired but tried to pretend he wasn’t and kept running and then he puked all over and started crying and I don’t know what to do!”
“What!?” Ornate didn’t know what she was madder about, the fact that Shield pushed her son too far when she explicitly told him not to, or that he was apparently involving Pureblood, as well.
As it was, she ended up overtaking the filly and arriving at the garden first with a yell of, “What were you thinking!?” Stalwart jerked up, stained washcloth falling from his magical grasp as he met the burning eyes of a furious mother. Little Blueblood cried louder while his sister stood at the entrance, uncertainty clear in her stance.
“This isn’t as bad as it looks-”
“Isn’t it? Because it looks to me you made my son vomit with your half-brained idea of training. He’s a foal, you dolt! He shouldn’t be doing more than a few stretches and brisk walks, not whatever you’ve been subjecting him to!”
Pushing the much larger stallion aside as if he were the scolded puppy he looked like, Ornate pulled her son into her lap and picked up the washcloth. Noticing the bottle of water sitting open nearby, she rinsed the cloth and continued the work of cleaning the colt’s face and chest. “It’s okay, my child, you’ll be all better soon.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Little Blueblood whimpered, his wailing dying down to hiccuping gasps as that morning’s breakfast was wiped away. “I couldn’t f-finish…”
“Hey now,” Shield began, stalling only a moment before powering through the glare Ornate shot his way. “I’m not upset with you, lad, we should have started out slower. You don’t have to run twenty laps.”
The colt’s cheeks grew only redder and he buried his face into his mother’s fur. “But I wanna…” He mumbled, peeking an eye out. “N-now you won’t want to spend time with me.”
“What? No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong!” Shield said. “You should have seen me on my first day as a fresh recruit; I bumbled up worse than an Apple trying to grow pears. I used to get called toilet breath because of how often I was made to clean the latrine with my toothbrush.” When Blueblood peeked a curious eye out, the stallion explained, “The bathroom, lad.”
Blueblood was shocked. “Wha-? Ew! That’s gross!”
Chuckling, Stalwart said, “It was, and I had to do that for the first two months before the drill sergeant finally whipped me into good enough shape to keep up with the rest of my troop.” His eyes suddenly became downcast. “I’m sorry if I made you think that you had to be perfect for me to want to spend time with you, I got carried away. Blueblood, I want you to have fun with this, with me, not think this is some sort of test you can fail.” When he reached for the foal, Ornate let him and he pulled Bluey into a loose embrace. “I just want you to become stronger, to be the best that you can be, and to enjoy yourself while you’re doing so… but, if you don’t want to train anymore after this, I’ll understand.”
Shaking his head violently, Blueblood yelled, “No! I wanna spend time with you! I wanna be strong! Grandpa, please, can we keep training?”
Stalwart’s face was split by a large grin. “Of course!” he exclaimed, changing from solemn to boisterous in the blink of an eye as he leapt to his hooves. The attitude quickly mellowed however at seeing Ornate Garden's stern gaze. “Er, tomorrow of course. Rest up and we’ll start up first thing in the morning? That sound good to you, soldier?”
Blueblood saluted, only the tear stains on his cheeks left as indication that he was ever sad. “Sir, yes, sir!”
Ornate simply looked from her son to his grandfather before sighing. “Boys,” she muttered, standing up and preparing to usher the colt inside to get cleaned up the rest of the way and perhaps replace some of the food he upchucked on the petunias. Before she could however, a small hoof pressed against her leg. Looking down, she asked, “What is it, Pure?”
The filly glanced between her mother and the boys before letting her eyes settle on the grass. “Um, Would it… would it be okay if I trained with Grandpa and Bluey, too?” she asked, shuffling her hooves. “It’s fun.”
While Stalwart began praising the idea, a sharp look had him clamping his mouth shut before Ornate spoke, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetie. Training can be dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Pure looked up, a frown on her face. “But you’re letting Blueblood do it. Why is it dangerous for me, but not him?”
This got the mare to sputter a moment. “W-well, wouldn’t you rather focus on your books? I mean, Class Act is going to be taking you to the library next week, and I’m sure you’ll have plenty to read once you return.”
Frown deepening, Pure responded. “I can do both, Mom.” Hurt entered her eyes as she continued, “It’s because of my magic isn’t it? You don’t think I can do anything because of that.”
“No, that’s not… entirely true.” Ornate’s argument died on her lips as she saw her daughter sag in defeat, and she couldn’t think of what to say. It was true, Pure was a fragile girl, and the idea of her getting hurt even a little terrified the mare.
“I promise not to go overboard again, Ma’am,” Shield said from the side. “Pureblood will be perfectly safe with us, I give you my word.”
Looking down to see the hope on her filly’s face, Ornate couldn’t help but cave. “Okay, Pure, you can spend the mornings with your brother and grandpa, but I want you to be careful, all of you. I don’t want another repeat of today.”
While the filly cheered, hugging her leg before running over to do the same to Stalwart, Ornate really hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision. Another scare like the one she got from when Pure came yelling into the kitchen, and she’d start to go grey in the mane before she hit thirty.
“Isn’t this great, Blueblood? We’re going to be training together!” Pure cheered.
The colt smiled, though with far less enthusiasm. “Yeah… that’s great.” Pure tilted her head for a moment, but shrugged before asking her grandfather what sort of things they’d be doing. She didn’t see her brother’s smile fall or his shoulders sag.
Something is definitely up with Blueblood, and I’m pretty sure it has to do with me. When Mom had agreed to letting me train with him and Grandpa, I thought he’d be as excited as I was. His smile seemed a bit strained at the time, but I figured it was just his stomach still bothering him and so didn’t think much of it.
An upset stomach wouldn’t last this long though. I mean, sure, I didn’t even know it was possible to puke from too much exercise, how would I? Too much exercise was never on my laundry list of health concerns before, so I never thought about it, but the way Blueblood’s been avoiding my gaze is probably not from a tummy ache.
We just finished dinner and were now in our playroom, having some time before bed to enjoy each other’s company, or at least, we should be. Instead, Blueblood is sitting as far away from me as possible, back turned as he fiddles with some of his tin soldiers. Usually, this would be the time I’d read a book with him and he would practice reading the words. He never got more than a few, but he was always so proud of himself after.
“Bluey, do you want to read this book with me? It’s about a caterpillar eating all sorts of things and frankly being quite wasteful.” I look down at the page as the worm simply eats a hole straight through an apple before moving on to the next meal. What a waste of a perfectly good fruit.
“Good for him,” the colt mumbles, not turning his head.
Okay, enough of this. “Blueblood, are you mad at me?” I ask, trying to be firm, but struggling to keep the quiver from my voice. We’ve been upset with each other before, but Blue’s never given me the cold shoulder for more than a few minutes until now and it’s worrying.
Blueblood peeks at me before looking away again. “… It was supposed to be for me.”
“What?”
“It was going to be our time, just Grandpa and me. You weren’t supposed to do it too.” I see his shoulders tense as his voice tightens. “And you weren’t supposed to be better than me.” Finally turning to face me, I flinch at the glare he directs my way. “You’re already the smart one; Mom and Dad talk about it all the time, so why can’t I be the strong one? Why do you have to be better than me?”
“Wha-? Bluey, I am not better than you,” I say, affronted. “I thought you would be happy that we can do this together.”
“I would have been if you didn’t beat me.”
“It wasn’t a race!”
“Yes it was!” the colt shouts with a stomp of his hoof. “I was trying to beat you, but you kept getting more and more ahead. And then you started lapping me. Now Grandpa is gonna train you and won’t even pay attention to me anymore.”
“Grandpa isn’t like that,” I say, trying to organize my thoughts. When did this even start? When did he even start caring so much about me being smart? I thought we got past that when he started taking our reading together seriously. “This isn’t a competition-”
“Yes it is!” he interrupts, knocking his tin soldiers over. “I was going to be better than you at something, but you beat me at that too! You and Mom are always reading books I can’t read, or stupid Class Act comes over and makes me do stupid plays with you, and you always know all of your lines and I keep getting told I’m doing it wrong. This was going to be mine, mine and Grandpa Shield’s, just for me, but now I have to share with you, and you’re better than me again!”
I stare wide-eyed as the colt huffs, mane wild after his tantrum. Thinking back, I do regret always guilting him into playing along with Class and me when she visited, having known he didn’t find the same enjoyment from theater as we did. And I did rub it in more than I should have that I was smarter than him. Spending time with Mom reading was hardly something for him to get mad about, but I can at least see his point.
I understand why he’s mad, but that doesn’t stop my own blood from boiling. “Magic.”
“What?” he asks, some of his anger turning to confusion. “What about magic?”
“You have magic. You and Dad go outside and practice all the time, picking flowers with it or throwing rocks. I can’t do that, any of it, but I’ve never been mad that you could.” I stand and march over to him, jabbing him in the chest hard. “And I want to do those things, I want to be able to do magic with Dad, for him to tell all his friends how good I am at it instead of being the smart girl with a useless horn on her head!”
Flustered, Blueblood tries to argue, “B-but, it doesn’t make me special doing magic like you being smart does. No pony ever thinks it’s cool when I do magic, but all the grownups always talk about you.”
“At least you can get smarter!” I counter. “I even try helping you! And you know what? You can get stronger too, and faster, that’s the point of training with Grandpa isn’t it? But you know what can’t change? Me doing magic!” I’m ashamed of the tears building up in the corner of my eyes, but no amount of rage can prevent them. “I can’t learn that. No amount of hard work will let me lift things with my mind or teleport or do any of the crazy, amazing things you’ll be able to do someday.
“Blueblood, you’re going to be great, and I want you to be, but I don’t want to have to be nothing just to avoid you hating me.” Falling to my rump, the last of my anger evaporates and I feel drained. “I don’t want to be just a burden to every pony around me.” Not again, not like last time.
The room goes quiet save for my sniffles and the shuffling of hooves on carpet. I don’t know what my brother is thinking, if he’s still angry, but I can’t muster the will to look. What am I supposed to do?
“M’sorry,” Blue whispers in my ear as he wraps his hooves around my shoulders.
“Bluey?” I whisper back, surprised. “I… I thought you hated me…”
His hug tightens as he repeats, “I’m sorry.”
Nothing else is said as we remain like this for several minutes. Relief floods my heart as I hug my brother back, an apology already on my lips for yelling, but Blueblood ends up being the first to break the silence. “I don’t want you to be nothing, you’re so much fun.” He begins pulling away to wipe the moisture from his cheeks. “I like reading with you, and eating snacks with you, and playing with you, and-and I’ll like training with you too.”
“I can tell Grandpa I changed my mind,” I offer, wiping my own face dry. “It can just be the two of you two like you wanted.”
I can see it in his eyes, his desire to say yes, and it hurts a little, knowing he doesn’t want me around, that he sees me as a burden, but I’m willing to do it make him happy. That’s why I’m so surprised when he suddenly shakes his head and gives a firm, “No.”
“What?”
“I want you to train with me and Grandpa.”
“But I thought-”
“Grandpa will be sad if you don’t do it.” Well, that was probably true, though I’m sure the stallion would get over it soon enough. I'm going to say as much before Blueblood continues, suddenly leaping to his hooves with a steely gaze and radiating determination. “I’ll just have to train really hard ‘til I’m the best!”
Despite all that has happened, I can’t help but sigh. “Bluey, it’s not a competition. Why can’t we just have fun and help each other?”
He deflates a little, looking sheepish. “Oh, right, um okay…” Puffing up again, he tries, “We’ll train together and be the best…! But I’ma still be better.”
Ignoring the mumbled bit at the end, I say, “Right, we’ll help each other get stronger.”
“Yeah, and I’m gonna help you use magic!” my brother declares, getting a nervous look from me.
“Um, I don’t think it works that way…”
“Sure it does, I’ll help you learn how to use your horn just like you teach me how to read. Grandpa says hard work makes anything possible, so we just need to work hard.”
He’s so confident in his logic that I know I won’t be able to persuade him otherwise, so instead, I simply agree. He’ll probably change his mind or forget about it in a couple weeks anyway, so what’s the harm?
“Great!” he shouts, throwing a hoof in the air and leaving it there for several seconds. “So… um, wanna start now?”
Smirking, I point over to where I was sitting before. “Want to just read that book for now instead? It’s too close to bedtime to start any rigorous training.”
With an awkward agreement, we end up lying side by side with a book between us as I help Blueblood sound out the words and we berate the jerk caterpillar. That cherry pie is no good now with a hole eaten through it, and it’ll have to go in the trash. That fiend!
The harrowing story of an evil bug is the final loop de loop of what turned into an emotional roller-coaster of a day, and the two of us simply snuggle each other and slowly fall asleep. One thing my old life had over this one is that it was a lot less hectic, what with spending days on end with nothing but my thoughts, ceiling tiles, and some books for company.
Pulling the warm body closer to me with a smile, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.
Finishing my final set of push-ups, I breathe a sigh of satisfaction as I stand, enjoying the soft ache of a good workout. Starting the stretches Grandpa informed us to do before and after a session, I ignore the fatigue. It’s not nearly as bad as the soreness I’ll be feeling tomorrow and serves as an indicator of the morning’s progress. “Getting stronger every day,” I mutter, thinking of the mantra my brother and I have taken up.
In regards to physical training, we both have improved, though Blueblood more so. That’s not to say he has surpassed me as I still have him beat in endurance and speed, something I’m secretly quite proud of, but compared to that first day, the once noticeable gap between us has shrunk considerably.
Something I can’t say about his magic and my lack thereof. A doctor’s visit told us my magic has apparently increased since the last one, but I still don’t feel anything, a problem Blueblood has been trying to rectify for some time now. For all the things my brother has little patience for, training with Grandpa and trying to get me to cast a spell are not on the list, much to my dismay.
It didn’t start out as such, the beginning being filled with hope that maybe I really could do even a fraction of the amazing things he and other unicorns could, but after nothing but constant failures, the so called magical training has become a tiresome chore to be done each night before bed. Really, it mostly consists of Blueblood getting frustrated trying to put into words what it’s like to feel your magic and me getting equally frustrated trying to understand.
Apparently, I did manage a few sparks once according to him, but my eyes were screwed shut at the time so I missed it. I had to convince Blueblood not to run off and tell our parents right then and there by explaining we should wait until I can do it on command just in case they got mad about what we were doing without their permission and made us stop. He reluctantly agreed with the logic, which I was thankful for. I’d rather not give Mom and Dad false hope that their daughter wasn’t a freak after all.
Shaking my head of such thoughts, I try to re-focus on something positive. “Hey Blue, how are you doing?” I call, glancing over to the colt as he continues to buck a tree. The solid wood trembles less than his legs, but Blueblood powers on with a strained yell of, “Fine!” He doesn’t quite look fine, what with the sweat-drenched mane plastered to his forehead, but the determination shining in his eyes tells me he’ll finish the day’s workout.
Nodding, I decide to go sit at the picnic blanket and sip at a water bottle, idly watching my brother move to push-ups. Grandpa has taken to exercising as well and is running laps around the garden, though an eye is always kept on us foals while he does so in case there’s an accident.
It’s a token gesture at this point as we’ve been training like this every other morning for over a year now, the last eleven of which have been incident free. I learned the hard way that jumping jacks are not a pony-friendly exercise when I twisted an ankle and was asked if I had been trying to fly. The embarrassment hurt almost as bad as the injury.
“Taking it easy, I hope,” Dad says as he enters the garden, looking over to his son with nostalgia and a bit of pity. “Don’t want the children limping on their first day of school.”
I do a good job of keeping my face impassive, though I do feel my left ear give a traitorous flick at the mention of school. I’m not worried about the academic part of things, but the whole idea of going to school is just so foreign to me after having spent the bulk of my last life never going. There were a few years in the beginning that I know I went, but those memories were fuzzy even before I found myself in this new world.
Blueblood doesn’t share the same worry however as he jumps up from his last pushup with a grin on his face. “Two more days! Two more days!” he chants prancing in place.
“That’s right,” Grandpa says, coming to stop. “We’ll be taking the rest of the weekend off, plenty of time to recover. They’ll be right as rain by Monday.”
Chuckling at his son’s antics, the elder Blueblood looks my way with a small frown. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
I mentally smack myself before plastering on a smile. “I’m okay, Daddy! I was just wondering what the first day of school was going to be like.”
“We’re gonna be the best ponies there and will be super popular,” little Blueblood chimes confidently. “With all the training and studying we do, how could we not be?”
Dad chuckles again. “I’m sure you will be, but not if you can’t stay on your hooves when you get there. How about you end the training session short for the day and we head inside for a snack?” Looking at me, he continues, “Your mother wants Pure to try on some more outfits, anyway. Wait much longer to see her and she’ll have the whole closet laid out across the bed.”
The smile falters some. “Great… Sounds like fun.” It really didn’t. I’ve been put in a few dresses now and then, even a particularly complex number for my second birthday, and while most weren’t as hot and itchy as that one, I admit that I’ve grown quite accustomed to bare fur. It’s definitely not something I’d have thought I could grow used to in my previous life, but clothing is just sort of uncomfortable now.
“They were finished up anyway,” Grandpa said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “A snack sounds like a good idea. We still have any of that chocolate pudding from last night?”
With my brother running inside with a cheer for pudding, the older stallions right behind him, I follow with a sigh and let the smile drop. As school and dresses flood my mind with unease, I try to drown it out with thoughts of dessert instead. Cutting Board makes a mean cocoa mousse, after all. It would cheer me up, I’m sure.
Ornate Garden was going through the closet, putting away three dresses while searching for a new one. “Hmm, what would you like to try next, Pureblood, the cornflower blue one or that pink one we picked up the other day?”
Moaning in response, Pure answered, “Neither, we’ve already tried on six dresses, can’t I just go to school without one? I want to get back to the mousse.”
Ornate rolled her eyes. “You’ve already had three bowls; I think that’s more than enough sweets before dinner.” Really, she was beginning to think her daughter only began training every morning as an excuse to eat more. Combined with a foal’s metabolism, Pure could scarf down an entire tray of cookies without gaining an ounce. Ornate was a little envious, if she were being honest with herself.
“Besides, it’s important to look your best on the first day of school; first impressions are very important, after all.” Pure opted to turn away with a frown instead of arguing, something her mother was thankful for as she pulled out the pink dress. It went well with her eyes, but she’d still have to see if the contrasting effect of the blue dress was more striking.
As she fitted the frilly wear onto her silent daughter, Ornate began to wonder. “Are you alright, sweetie?”
“I’m okay,” was the plain response, voice distant. The filly was so distracted that she hardly worked with her mother to get into the clothes, leaving Ornate to dress her daughter as if she were a doll.
“… Are you nervous about school?” Ornate guessed, knowing she was right when the filly flinched.
“N-no, I’m excited for school, it’s going to be fun and Blueblood will be there with me, so what’s there to be scared of? It’s gonna be Blueblood and me, and a bunch of foals I don’t know a-and teachers who are strangers and-”
“It’s okay to be a little scared, Sweetie, it’s natural,” Ornate interrupted, getting her daughter to look up at her with surprise. “I was nervous my first day too, you know?”
“Really?”
“Oh yes,” she answered with a chuckle, remembering the shivering mess she was as she stood at the door of her foalhood home, and the advice her father gave her. “I didn’t want to go either, but then your Grandpa Rouser told me something that helped a lot. He told me it was okay to be afraid as long as I put on a brave face. That if I pretended not to be scared, I’d eventually believe it myself.” It was an odd thing to tell a child thinking back, but coming from a family of actors, it made perfect sense. “It was the trick he used to use to deal with his stage fright, but it works for first day jitters too.”
Pure gave a small smile, but didn’t say anything as Ornate fixed a pink bow in her mane. After waiting a minute for a response, the older mare frowned. “Pure… You can tell me if you’re worried about something. I’m your mother after all, I’ll always be here for you no matter what.”
She was just about to give up and begin the arduous process of undressing the foal when Pure whispered, “… Can I be homeschooled?”
“Wha-?” Ornate began, blinking a few times in surprise before recovering. “What brought this on? I thought with how much you love learning, you wouldn’t be able to wait to start going to school, even if you were a little nervous.”
“But I don’t need to be in school to learn, you teach me plenty already. And I can go to the library whenever I want if I want to get new books to study. I can learn all I need right here.”
“I’m not a teacher, sweetie, I don’t know the best way to teach a little filly.”
“But you do a good job,” she argued.
“But they’ll do a better job at school,” countered Ornate with a soft smile. “You’ll learn so much there, and not just stuff like reading and writing, but you’ll learn how to make friends and have all sorts of fun.”
Drooping, the filly mumbles, “But that’s why I’m afraid.” Looking up into her mother’s questioning eyes, she sighed. “What if nopony likes me there? I’m different, I don’t know how normal foals act.”
The pink mare frowned slightly, remembering how some of the staff reacted to her bright little filly when she was first brought home. “That may be true…” Ornate finally began, choosing her words carefully. “You are different, but that isn’t bad. You’re special, Pure, so smart and kind that I’m sure you’ll be able to make friends in no time.”
“But-”
“No buts, you are special in the best of ways.” Cupping the filly’s cheek, Ornate held her daughter’s worries gaze. “Just try it, sweetie, just for a few weeks and you’ll see how great school can be.”
“… And if I don’t like it?”
“If you truly don’t like it after that, then we can try homeschooling, I’ll even hire a proper teacher, but not until you’ve at least tried to go to school.”
Pure was silent for a few seconds before nodding her head. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“That’s my brave little filly,” Ornate said, leaning down to nuzzle her daughter. “You’ll see, you’re going to have so much fun and make such great friends that you’ll look back on this and think it was just silly. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be alone, Blueblood will be right there next to you.”
A small smile coming to her lips, Pure nodded again. “Yeah, you’re right, I’m sure I’m just being silly.” Looking down at herself, she frowned. “Um, Mom, don’t you think this is a little too pink?”
Stunned a moment, Ornate giggled. “I suppose it is, perhaps it’s time to try the blue one?”
“Yeah… I think I’d like that.”
“I don’t like this,” I whisper from behind my Mom’s leg, staring up at the single story building and doing my best to hide from the swarm of foals and parents funneling into it. My brother, much like many of the other children, is brimming with an excitement I wish I could share as he bounces on Dad’s back, getting slight winces from the stallion. “It’s too loud.”
“Remember what we talked about, Pure, just give it a try,” Mom whispers into my ear before she giving me a quick nuzzle. “It’ll be much better once we get inside and everypony is settled.”
I give a small smile and nod, though it falters some when Bluey jumps from his perch to land next to me. “This is gonna be great, right, Pure?” he exclaims, gesturing around us. “Look at all the other foals! You think they like pulling pranks too?”
“Son, we talked about this,” Dad says, giving the colt a stern look that is mostly shrugged off. “I don’t want to be getting called in because you’re tormenting your teacher. Do you understand?”
“Sure, sure,” is the flippant response before Bluey grabs my hoof and starts tugging me forward. “Come on, let’s get inside!”
I squeak as I'm forced to take a step out from the concealing legs of my mother, but put up little resistance. A promise is a promise, so I look up at the smiling sun painted on the side of the building and try to calm my nerves. The image isn’t helping as much as I think it’s supposed to. Since when have smiley faces and rainbows been ominous?
“Hi, I’m Blueblood, and this is my sister Pureblood! Hey! I’m Blueblood and she’s Pureblood, nice to meet you! Hello!” My brother went on and on, greeting every foal to step within arm’s reach, including my name in each introduction, much to my displeasure.
“H-hi. Pleasure to meet you. Hello there. Charmed,” I force out, giving a stiff nod to each new pony directed my way and hoping my smile doesn’t appear as strained as it is. I’m fighting the urge to run over to my parents and hide while they talk with our teacher, a mare surprisingly a smidge taller than Dad, reminding myself that I’m not just some foal. Including the time I’ve spent in my new life, I’m technically a teenager for crying out loud! I can handle some social interaction…!
I think dying was less painful than when I stutter once again greeting a cream-colored unicorn filly with a pink mane. Ignoring the perplexed look in those turquoise eyes before she shrugs and skips off, I heave a sigh and attempt to get my heartbeat under control. I guess age doesn’t account for much when the bulk of it was in isolation.
At least Blueblood seems to have struck up an actual conversation with a colt, so he’s not putting a new pony in front of me every five seconds. Using the reprieve to its fullest, I try to distract myself by observing the room I’d be spending the rest of the morning in. There’s a surprising lack of rainbows and smiley faces inside, which I guess I’m relieved about, with the few there are sharing space with a variable hodgepodge of other images. Apples, happy beetles, a couple kittens, as well as a few crudely painted pictures I imagine must be from other students plaster the walls.
There are far fewer desks and chairs than I imagined there would be, with only a few large tables lining the edges of the room, though there aren’t exactly a whole lot of students so I guess that makes sense. It was a small relief when I realized all the foals I had seen outside weren’t going to be crammed into one room and instead would be divided between a couple.
A toy box sits in the corner and there are shelves filled with what appear to be craft supplies, judging by the clear container I can see filled with glitter. I’m going to have to make sure to keep Bluey far away from that; I’d rather not find out how difficult it is to get the shiny dust out of fur. In the very middle of the room is a large, oval play mat, the center a cooling shade of blue while the outer edge is decorated with squares of red, green, and yellow, each with a different number printed inside.
“Well, it’s nearly time for us to leave,” Dad says as he approaches, having to take several exaggerated steps to avoid crushing careless foals dashing between his legs. “Think you two will be okay until it’s time for us to come pick you back up?”
While I give a nod, brother grins. “Yep! Bye!”
Mom frowns and grumbles, “Could at least pretend you’re going to miss us?” before looking at me. “How about you, Pure? You still nervous?”
I bite my lip, contemplating just asking to go home now, but resist as I answer, “I’ll be okay, Mommy.” After a second, I throw my self-consciousness to the wind and leap forward to hug Mom’s leg. “I’ll miss you…”
Reaching down for a gentle embrace, Mom whispers, “I’ll miss you too, but it’ll only be for a few hours. You can make it, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I respond, pulling away with a smile significantly less forced. I’m more relaxed as Bluey and I give our final goodbyes, waving until our parents leave along with the last of the others who had come to exchange words with the teacher.
The room is soon clear of all adults except for a single, violet earth pony mare with a cloud-colored mane. Turning her red eyes towards the foals still running wild through the room, she smiles gently and calls, “Okay children, I think it’s time for introductions.”
By the time the teacher finally got all the foals to sit in a circle around the center mat, Blueblood and I had already been seated for five minutes, much to my annoyance. Having to continuously grab my brother to keep him from running off started to become tedious, and yet the teacher, having to deal with over a dozen rambunctious foals, never once raised her voice or let the gentle smile fall from her lips.
How much patience could this mare have to be able to do this for a living? Perhaps she was some sort of monk before she started teaching to maintain such serenity in the face of so much chaos.
“Okay, okay, settle down little one, there’ll be plenty of time to play in a bit,” the teacher said to a little blue filly with a white and darker blue mane. “Right now it's time for all of us to get to know each other, and I think I’ll start.
“Hello class, I’m Tutorial, though you may call me Miss Torial if you prefer, and I will be your teacher. I hope we will have much fun learning together.”
If by some instinct, many of the fillies and colts, myself included, respond the same way. “Hello, Miss Torial,” the bulk of us chant, getting the kindly mare to smile slightly wider.
“Now that you all know me, it’s time for each of you to introduce yourselves. Starting here,” she gestures towards the blue filly at her side who beams, “We shall go around the circle and say our names and one thing you wish to share with the class, okay? Go ahead, my child.”
Needing no further prompting, the filly releases a rapid stream of words. “Hi! I’m Minuette! I like having fun and hate wasting time! Everything has to be done fast!”
The next pony in line, the filly who gave me the strange look earlier, is caught off guard when Minuette wraps up her introduction in a mere three seconds before snapping her eyes over to her, but recovers quickly before speaking. “I’m Twinkleshine, and, um, I like doing stuff with my friends.”
The teacher is satisfied with the answer it seems and moves her gaze to the next foal, though I tune them out as I try to decide what I’m going to say when it’s my turn. The first part is simple enough, I’m Pureblood, but what’s something interesting about myself? I like to read? No that will make the other foals think I’m a nerd, and if the few sitcoms I remember seeing are anything to go by, that’s just asking to get bullied by some pony three times my size.
I guess I could say I know Princess Celestia, but wouldn’t that be bragging? I’m pretty sure bragging is bad, so I should avoid saying that, which throws the whole kinda royalty thing out the window too. That’s probably for the best, I’m pretty sure I’m not technically a princess if I’m understanding stuff right, and I definitely don’t feel like royalty, anyway. What’s interesting about me? Come on, this shouldn’t be hard! I can say I’m an alien, that way I won’t be lying, and I’ll go to a loony bin instead of school. Win win!
Just as I’m kicking myself for such a stupid thought, Blueblood’s turn arrives. “Hi, I’m Prince Blueblood the 17th, and this is my sister Pureblood! She’s a princess even if she says she’s not,” the colt declares with a confident smile and a hoof around my shoulder, missing my aghast look due to his smugly closed eyes. After a second, he adds. “Oh, and I like training with my Grandpa and getting stronger!”
I didn’t realize I had been staring for an embarrassingly long time before I heard the teacher clear her throat, the abrupt sound cutting through the excited murmurs of the other foals. “Pureblood, is it? Would you like to share something about yourself with the class?”
Jerking, I look around to see all the wide-eyed stares my brother and I were receiving, the former soaking the attention in as I resist hiding away. I have to say something, no matter how inviting the shadowy space beneath that table looks, but my first attempt comes out as nothing more than a squeak.
Come on, girl! Your mom wants this for you, don’t disappoint her and just say something already! Clearing my throat and collecting what little courage I could, I speak. “H-hello, um, I’m Pureblood, like my brother said, and I like, um… books?” I wince and mentally berate myself at the first snort, shrinking down in shame as more foals begin to giggle.
“I also enjoy books, hopefully you can find some new ones here,” Miss Torial says, that same serene smile on her face even though I just labeled myself a nerd within the first ten minutes of class. I might as well have thrown myself in a piranha tank with how these foals are going to eat me alive after this.
There was some prompting from the teacher towards the foal next to me to introduce themselves, but I hardly notice over my own panicking thoughts until they finally speak. “I-I’m, um, I’m Moondancer, a-and I like…” the light-beige unicorn shoots a glance at me from beneath her red and purple mane, a blush on her cheeks. “And I like books too.”
Staring at the filly, I notice the small, hopeful smile she held begin to fall as I process what is happening. Is this pony trying to be friends with me? Why? Judging from the teasing laughter of most of the class, I’ve already botched my first impression, right? Is it because Bluey told the class we were a prince and princess? Is she just schmoozing?
… No, besides being a foal no older than my brother, I can see the genuine hope dying in those purple eyes as self-consciousness wells in its place, and I know she’s feeling how I have been since I got here. Smiling is all it takes for the crestfallen expression to once again be replaced by a meek smile, and seeing that makes mine all the more real.
When Ornate and Blueblood returned to pick up the twins, they both did so with trepidation. For the mare, it was the fear that her daughter would come running out in tears, begging to be homeschooled. As for the stallion, he was afraid homeschooling would be required after his son had driven their teacher insane.
The latter of these worries was at least temporarily laid to rest as the teacher could be seen at the preschool’s entrance, bidding farewell to her charges as other parents arrived to retrieve them. Weaving through the crowd, Ornate and her husband approached the violet mare, both having to look up slightly to catch her eyes as she smiled in way of greeting.
“Miss Tutorial,” Blueblood began, returning the mare’s smile with a grin of his own, “I hope the twins didn’t cause too much trouble for you. My son can be a bit… much at times, and he often finds luck in roping his sister into his shenanigans.”
“Not at all,” she answered. “Young Blueblood was quite energetic, though nothing I haven’t dealt with before. He and some of the other colts got along swimmingly.”
“That’s a relief,” Ornate commented, wincing as a foal ran past her, screeching at the top of their lungs. “I honestly don’t know how you can do this job; just trying to take care of two foals can be taxing at times, and that’s with helpers. I think a whole classroom’s worth would have me a babbling mess within an hour.”
“Yes, keeping track of so many little ones can be difficult at times, but as long as one has the patience for it, I can hardly imagine a more fulfilling occupation,” Tutorial said, chuckling lightly as she looked to her flank at the snail cutie mark. “And patience is my special talent, after all.”
“Much to the benefit of us all,” praised Blueblood, perking up at a familiar voice.
“Daddy!” yelled his son, galloping full tilt into his father’s leg. “I had the best day ever! Me and Chrome Coat raced these really cool toy carriages and then Double Jump wanted to teach us this really boring game called chippers or something, but then Table Flip showed us this really cool thing you can do with the black and red pieces instead called tiddlywinks where you-!”
“Wow, wow, breathe, son, breathe,” the stallion instructed, picking the panting colt up. “Don’t want you passing out before I can hear about all the stuff you did with your new friends.”
Peeking around the teacher, Ornate asked, “Where’s your sister?”
“Hmm? Oh, she’s still inside with her friend,” little Blueblood answered dismissively before continuing his tale of fun and games to his father.
“Pureblood and Moondancer insisted that they properly shelve all the books they took down before they left,” Miss Tutorial informed. “I told them I could do it, but your daughter insisted, and as they went through half the collection it might take them a minute still to finish. I’m honestly contemplating bringing in books from my own library at the rate they’re going through the classroom's.”
A part of Ornate’s mind wanted to comment that that would only earn the teacher a few more days at most before the filly was hungry for more books, but one word her son spoke was taking up much of her thoughts at the moment. “Friend? My daughter made a friend?”
“She and Moondancer seem to have grown quite close over their shared interest in books,” Tutorial confirmed.
At that moment, two fillies came strolling out of the building, giggling to each other before the lighter of the two looked up and smiled broadly. “Hi, Mommy,” she called, picking up the pace and leaving the beige filly to catch up.
“Pure, did you have fun today?” inquired Ornate as she knelt to meet her daughter.
“Uh-huh! Moony and I read a whole bunch of books together and even made up some of our own stories, didn’t we, Moony?”
Upon being addressed, the little filly blushed and looked away, but she still spoke, if only in a whisper. “Uh-huh,” she answered before looking up slightly and adding, “Um, hello, Pure’s Mom.”
Oh, that was just too precious. When Ornate heard a mare’s voice call for the little filly, she turned to see who she presumed to be Moondancer’s mother. Following behind her daughter’s new friend as she ran, Ornate just knew she’d have to set up a playdate for their children.
The two were just too cute to only spend school together, plus she’d be able to take all sorts of adorable photos if they read at her house.
School is going much better than I ever expected it to, though it’s also very different. When I think of school, I always envision desks and lessons, homework and tests, but apparently that’s not what preschool is for. No, while there were times that Miss Torial had us all sit down and practice writing numbers or the alphabet, most of the day was given to us foals to play, or in the case of Moondancer and me, read.
By day two, we had already breezed through the classroom's small library, the pace only slowed by the in-depth discussion we had on each ten to twenty page picture book. It was truly amazing how much one could read into a story that consisted of only a dozen drawings and barely twice as many words, but we managed well as we dissected motives and plot development… only to break into giggle fits half the time.
Moondancer is amazing in that regard, so young yet so intelligent that I feel guilty for bearing the title 'foal genius' while in the presence of one so much more deserving. I have the advantage of over a decade of life while Moondancer has a mere three years under her metaphorical belt, but she is still able to keep up with me just fine and even contribute to our discussions in ways I sometimes fail to think of.
Her intelligence was made even clearer when we began bringing our own books from home on the third day of class to share with each other and she brought a pictureless hardcover. Apparently she finds them far more entertaining and already has a growing collection at her house. The fact that I brought Peek-a-Boo with Fluffy Bunny had me blushing, but she luckily thought the book was quite nice.
While I’ve been spending my schooldays with Moondancer, Blueblood has made friends with just about all of the colts in class, and even a fair number of fillies, claiming that he must be immune to cooties when the other boys tried to warn him of the deadly disease. At first, he tried frequently to pull me into his and the other kids’ games, and sometimes he succeeded, but more often than not, I chose to sit things out with my friend instead and the offers have grown fewer.
I explained to him that I simply don’t want to abandon Moondancer who was too shy to play, and while true, I left out that I share the same fear of socializing. The other students are far less intimidating now that I’ve spent some time around them, but I’m still more comfortable with a good book and a friend to read with. Blueblood accepts this and leaves us in peace during class, as do the others as they all run wild.
At least, that’s how it is until the fourth day of class when Moon and I are sitting under a tree during recess. Moondancer is in the middle of helping me sound out a new word in her book when a shadow falls over us. “What’re you two always doin’?” asks a voice a slight bit deeper than I’m used to hearing and I look up.
Standing over us is an earth pony colt with a chestnut coat and black mane. He’s a good head taller than the other boys and I remember wondering if he was older than the rest of us the first time I took note of him, but apparently, he's just large for his age.
Bronze Pauldron is his name, but everypony just calls him Pauly. “Um, just reading, Pauly,” I answer, nudging up closer to Moondancer to ease her nervousness and mine. She’s gone completely silent and has her eyes glued on the pages between us, shoulders tensed faintly.
“That’s stupid,” the colt said with a derisive snort, looking over his shoulder as one of his friends come over to see what’s going on. “They’re reading.”
“Why?” the colt asks with a tilted head as he comes unnervingly close to peer at our book. I try not to show my discomfort and smile, preparing to ask if he would like to join us, but all I manage is a squawk as he swipes the book up off of the ground and begins flipping through the pages. “There aren’t no pictures,” he says, holding the tome open vertically.
“H-hey! My sister gave me that!” protests a now standing Moondancer. “Give it back!”
When the colt puts a hoof to her chest and holds her back, I finally find my tongue. “You can’t just take stuff that isn’t yours,” I say, holding the anger from my voice as I make a grab for the book, only for the colt to suddenly toss it to Pauly, smiles starting to form on all their lips.
“Why you even want it if it don’t have pictures?” Pauly asks, smile taking on an edge I couldn’t place. “It’s broken, so I’ll throw it away.”
As Moon cries out in protest and both our efforts redouble, fruitlessly trying to grasp at the book being held high over our heads, a familiar voice suddenly cuts in. “Hey! Leave them alone!”
Blueblood must had noticed the racket and was now running over to us, the eyes of our classmates being drawn as well. “What?” Pauly began, “I’m just helpin’.”
Blueblood simply glared and pointed at Moon and me. “Give back the book.”
The larger colt met the glare with his own and gave a petulant, “No.”
Now others were nearing and I realize Moondancer is sniffling. I want to comfort her, but my panicking heart won’t let me break my attention away from my brother, worried of what was about to happen. Luckily, a couple of fillies have moved to my friend’s side and seem to be trying to help her in my place.
Not so lucky is the hit Blueblood directs at Pauly’s chest after their back-and-forth proved pointless. There are gasps all around as Pauly looks down at where he got struck and an even louder round of them when he looks back up with a frown and punches the little unicorn right in the snout.
As my brother drops, hooves instantly covering his face and muffling his wails, I see red. This-this brute comes up, steals my best friend’s book, insults it, and then wallops my brother? That’s two steps too far and I barely realize I’ve spun around until I feel the reverberations of a solid buck travel through my body.
A third set of gasps, louder still, fill the air, and by the time what I’ve done registers, another colt is lying on the ground, bawling his eyes out. Looking at my victim, I’m confused on why he’s several steps further away than I remember until I see Moondancer’s book at my hooves. The next thing I notice is the sound of heavy hoof-falls and I look up to see a wide-eyed Miss Torial running our way.
Everypony, it seems, is sharing in that surprised expression and, as the adrenaline runs its course and my heart begins to slow, one thought strikes me like a train. I am in so much trouble.
Ornate was surprised when the routine pickup of her foals was delayed by a call from their teacher, and the serious expression on the mare’s face had a pit forming in her stomach just as much as the downtrodden posture of her children. “Miss Tutorial, is something the matter?” she asked as the taller mare stopped in front of her.
“Hello, Mrs. Garden. I’d actually like to have a talk with you inside if you wouldn’t mind,” Tutorial replied. “There was an incident today involving your foals that I believe is prudent to discuss.”
Ornate already regretted not having her husband accompany her today as she looked down at the twins. While Blueblood simply looked sullen, Pureblood flinched away from her mother’s gaze and the mare could only imagine what that could mean. The very first thing she thought was that her son had gotten up to his old tricks and convinced his sister to participate, but he wasn’t wearing the defiant expression she would have expected from him if that were the case.
No, that was shame on his face, and… and was that a bruise on his nose? Just the thought of it nearly had the mother’s blood boiling, but she reeled in the emotions and hid them behind the façade of a Canterlot noble. “Yes,” she finally spoke. “I would most definitely like to discuss what happened today. Come, children.”
They hesitated a moment, Pure a little longer, but they both followed as their teacher and Mom entered the building. A word wasn’t spoken until the adults settled into their seats and Blueblood blurted out, “It wasn’t our fault! Pauly was pickin’ on Pure!”
“Blue, Pure,” Tutorial said with patience, “I see some of the foals failed to put away all of the toys. Would you mind picking them up for me? Your mother and I will be just a moment.” Blueblood looked ready to argue, but a gentle nudge from his sister and whispered plea had the colt leave with a huff.
As they both watched the twins wander away, Ornate spoke, “A fight then? I admit I had hoped they would not have to deal with such things so soon.” Though she was still forcing a mask of cool composure, the mother could not help but keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Was it because of Pureblood’s condition?”
It seemed ridiculous, the idea that foals so young would even find the little unicorn’s disability noteworthy, but Ornate couldn’t imagine her precious daughter doing anything else to be ridiculed for. At least, not until Tutorial gave a small shake of her head. “No, from what I was able to gather from the foals themselves, Bronze Pauldron and another colt started harassing your daughter and Moondancer while they were reading at recess. Because they were reading, actually.” Breathing a sigh, she added, “The things foals get up to sometimes…”
Ornate couldn’t help the relieved chuckle that escaped her lips. It wasn’t funny, she knew, but compared to the alternative, being picked on for being a bookworm was at least less demoralizing and would be easier to talk to her daughter about. “It’s surprising to be sure; something I wouldn’t have expected so early on, but I believe we both know children can be cruel at times. I don’t think loving books will ever be a social badge of honor for young ones.”
Tutorial actually shared in the giggle a moment before speaking, “Yes, I suppose not, but I’m afraid there is more to discuss than simple schoolyard bullying.” Her expression sobered. “I’ve already spoken with Pauldron’s father about what happened, and while none too pleased, he has agreed to sit down and talk to his son about his behavior. He also expressed that you should do the same with your children.
“Blueblood was quick to come to his sister’s aid-” a flash of pride traveled across Ornate’s face as the teacher continued, “-and tried to retrieve the book Pauly had taken from the fillies. What happened next I blame myself for, both for not watching more closely and for not yet discussing with the foals how to handle confrontations during school, something we all sat down and talked about after recess.
“Instead of coming to me, Blueblood decided to strike out against Pauldron, who struck back in return.” Ornate’s jaw clenched, but she did not interrupt the larger mare. “After that, Pureblood joined the fight, or should I say finished it.”
Losing its previous tension, her jaw fell open and all Ornate Garden could muster was, “What…?”
“Yes, I was surprised as well. By that time I had realized something was amiss and had spotted the circle of foals. It’s something one doesn’t expect to see; a little unicorn filly bucking an earth pony colt twice her size off his hooves, but… well, it happened. Luckily, there were no serious injuries all around. Pauldron has quite the nasty bruise on his chest, but the nurse assures me it will be fine.”
“That’s good,” Ornate managed after a swallow. “Pureblood, is she… is she in trouble then?”
Closing her eyes, Tutorial heaved a sigh. “No, not this time, but I’m sure you understand there cannot be a repeat of this incident. Besides being against the rules, her strength makes it doubly important that she knows not to resort to violence again. Had her buck been a few inches higher, the consequences would be far more severe. Young Pauldron would be lucky to only lose a few teeth.”
The idea of her sweet, loving filly hurting somepony so grievously was almost impossible to comprehend, but Ornate knew logically that even good ponies could hurt others by mistake. “I’ll talk to her and her brother, Miss Tutorial, you can rest assured,” promised the mother, glancing over at her children who must have been done putting away the toys ages ago and were now sitting patiently. While Blueblood still looked tense and stubborn, Pure looked like a kicked puppy.
“I’m glad,” Tutorial replied with a soft smile. “They really are wonderful children, I’d hate to lose them so soon. Blueblood has made so many friends that I fear his absence would bring a melancholy to the class, and Pure, she’s so brilliant that I wish to see that knowledge grow myself. Plus there’s Moondancer to think about. She’s a shy girl, even more so than your daughter, and it took a lot of courage for her to reach out and make a friend. I can tell she is the sort of pony who would blame herself if something bad were to happen to Pureblood over all of this.”
“I’m glad too,” Ornate agreed as she stood. “I’m glad they’ve found such good friends here, and I’m glad they will not have to say goodbye, but if there isn’t anything else to discuss, I believe it’s time for me to say goodbye.”
“Of course, I’m sure the twins are exhausted.” Standing as well, the two mares walked over to the foals and they silently got up to follow. “And you look like you could use some rest also. I won’t keep you.”
“Thank you,” Ornate said honestly. “It has been a taxing ordeal merely to hear about, I’m sure the twins are anxious to be home, isn’t that right you two?”
Blueblood merely shrugged and mumbled while Pure remained silent, eyes downcast. Feeling her heart clench, Ornate ushered them out of the building and began guiding them home, her mind wondering how her husband would take the news and about the conversation they would have to have with the little ones.
As I lay in bed, watching the first morning rays slowly travel across the sheets, I contemplate faking illness so that I can stay here all day. I have plenty of practice with the real deal, and according to most works of fiction I’ve read on the subject, it’s practically guaranteed to get me out of school.
A little dishonesty would be nothing after what I did yesterday and I’d much rather suffer a small uptick in guilt than face my classmates. I was already strange, I won’t lie to myself about that, but now they probably think I’m some sort of psycho. What if they’re all afraid of me? What about Moondancer?
I roll up even tighter, chin tucked in and blanket pulled up over my head in a vain attempt to ward off the cold that settled in my stomach. Mom and Dad assured me, after the former convinced the latter not to march to Pauly’s house and give his father a piece of his mind, that it was an honest mistake and that nopony would think any less of me for it. Never do it again, they said, and to always use my words, but they couldn’t stop emphasizing how it was just an honest mistake.
An honest, little mistake that left the biggest foal in our class a heaving mess on the ground.
I don’t realize I’m shivering until my brother stirs besides me and grumbles. “Sorry,” I whisper. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” Blueblood and I had our own bedrooms from when I was still too sensitive to magic, but we sleep together more often than not, and after the fiasco of yesterday, we both needed the extra comfort.
“It’s okay…” he mumbles.
Peeking my head back out, I spot the sun's rays inching closer and know what that means. “It’s almost time to get up for school.”
I feel him stiffen besides me. “Can’t go. Don’t feel good.”
I actually have to wiggle around at that, curious and worried for the colt. “You don’t?”
Not meeting my gaze, he nods. “Mhmm, I feel yucky and got sniffles, so I can’t go to school, just like that llama from your book… tissues please.”
I can’t help the flat look at that. It seems Bluey has gotten the same idea as me, but that raises the question, “Why don’t you want to go to school?”
“What’da mean, I want to go to school, but I’m sick, so I can’t.” To emphasize the point, he fakes a sneeze. “Ah-choo! See?”
“Bluey, what’s wrong?” I ask, concern plain on my face. “Are you afraid Pauly’s going to try and hurt you?” At the thought, I feel the same fire from before spark inside my belly. “Don’t worry about him, I’ll keep you safe.”
With how fiercely the colt blushes at that, I worry he might really have a fever until he speaks. “Don’t say that…”
“What?”
“Big brothers aren’t s’pose to be saved by their little sisters. It’s the other way around.” He rolls away from me, but continues to talk. “All the colts are gonna laugh at me now ‘cause I was crying and you beat up Pauly for me. I’m not going to school.”
I’m utterly stunned at this and struggle to find words. Bluey had been agitated from the moment we got home yesterday, but I assumed he was still mad at Pauly, not trying to hide insecurities behind a visage of anger. For a moment, I'm ashamed that I didn't realize this sooner, remembering that this is not the first time my brother has acted this way. This is just like our first day of training with Grandpa, and I am once again the source of his turmoil.
And even so, I clung to him for my own comfort while he was suffering and probably wanted nothing more than space away from me. “I’m sorry…” He grunts, but doesn’t respond. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of our classmates, I just got so angry when I saw you hurt that I acted without thinking.” Placing a hoof on his back, I whisper even more quietly, “Can… can you forgive me?”
At first, I fear he’s going to ignore me, and then, “Don’t be sorry, I would have been really angry too if I saw somepony hit you. I was mad just when he was pickin’ on you.”
I blink a few times. “But what about your friends? Aren’t they going to laugh at you now?”
Another pause, then a sigh. “Maybe… but if my little sister is brave enough to still go to school after that bully picked on her, then I have to be brave too. I am gonna help run Equestria as a prince when I grow up after all, so I can’t be a scaredy-cat, right?”
He turns around to reveal a proud smile, and I can’t help but return it. “That’s right, my brother is going to be the best prince ever; he’s not afraid of a bunch of foals.”
“Yeah, and you’re gonna be a princess, so you’re not afraid either!”
“R-right, I can’t wait to go to school,” I respond, smile becoming a little forced.
Jumping to his hooves, Bluey cheered, “Yeah, let’s get ready now so we can go early! I'll go wake up Mom and Dad!” Not waiting for a response, the colt leaps from the bed and rushes out of the room, voice already calling out to our parents.
Ornate Garden arrived home a few minutes later than usual from dropping her children off at school, having hovered outside the building in worry for them and how their day would go. When she finally did return home then, she was feeling a nervous mess and was not in the mood for any shenanigans.
That’s why, when her father-in-law came stumbling down the stairs bemoaning his rightfully earned hangover, she was not a happy mare. “Are you really expecting pity after you spent half the day drinking with your military friends before stumbling home after midnight?”
“Ah, have some compassion for an old stallion in his time of need, Ornate. I feel like I have an entire platoon marching through my skull,” whined the very-much grown adult as he slumped onto the counter. “I was challenged to a drinking contest by Jelly Donut, I had no choice but to accept, the family’s honor was at stake.”
“Yes, and I’m sure you defended it with all the valor to be expected from an Equestrian soldier,” Ornate responded, levitating a glass of water onto the counter space in front of Stalwart before setting a pan on the stove top and grabbing a bowl from the cupboards. She may not have been pleased with the stallion at the moment, but she would still whip a simple breakfast up for him. Celestia knew he didn’t put anything marginally wholesome in his belly last night.
Lifting his head, he shined her a triumphant grin. “Of course, and Jelly Donut didn’t stand a chance,” he boasted, picking up the offered glass and nearly emptying it in one slam.
Ornate rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad somebody had a good day yesterday.”
Setting the glass down none to gently with a relieved sigh, Stalwart tilted his head. “What’s that supposed to mean? Something happen yesterday?”
“One of the twin's classmates began picking on Pureblood and her friend,” explained the mother as she rummaged through the refrigerator. “Things got physical.”
“… What!?” the stallion yelled, wincing at the volume of his own voice and missing the glare Ornate sent at him. He had nearly made her drop a carton of eggs with that. “Is Pure okay?”
“She’s not hurt if that’s what you’re asking,” she answered, her words carrying the slightest air of exhaustion. “Blueblood tried to stand up for her and was punched in the nose though. It didn’t leave much of a mark, unlike Pure’s buck to the colt who did it.”
“Is that so?” Stalwart said, scratching his chin in thought.
“Yes, she apparently knocked the foal, a colt big for his age, right off his hooves and had him crying.” There was no pride in her voice as she related this fact, unlike Stalwart Shield.
“Good!” the stallion declared, stomping a hoof on the counter.
“What?” Ornate looked up from the bowl she had just finished cracking three eggs into and turned her head.
“Great even!” he continued, oblivious to the incredulous gaze directed at him or the heat growing there. “A buck was it? I knew it’d be a good idea teaching her that! Proper follow through is everything, you know? Most ponies go their whole lives just using their back legs to buck when they should be putting their whole body into the motion. Pushing off just a bit with your front legs turns a good buck into a downright deadly one.”
“Wait, have you been- are you saying you’ve been teaching my daughter how to fight?” questioned the pink mare, eggs forgotten as she faced her stepfather fully.
“Of course not,” he answered, bringing a momentary sense of relief to the mother before he added, “I’ve taught Blueblood too, though he still has trouble keeping his stance consistent. He’ll get it down soon I’m sure.”
Nodding to himself, confident in his grandson’s future progress, he missed the slack-jawed look of the mare across the counter. A few seconds later, his ears were assaulted by a shrill call of, “WHAT!?” as Ornate stomped right up to his pained face. “I agreed to let you exercise with the twins, not turn them into ruffians! What else have you been teaching them!? Am I going to get called into school to find out one of them has crippled a classmate!?”
“Nothing! Nothing! I haven’t taught them anything else yet!” Shield defended, cowering as he was reminded of his own wife when she became irate. Why’d he have to open his mouth while they were in the kitchen surrounded by sharp cutlery? “I wasn’t going to start serious combat training until next month!”
“You won’t be starting it at all unless you want to find out what it’s like to be a gelding!” Ornate informed, brandishing a butter knife. What should have been comical was all the more terrifying as images flashed through the old stallions mind, turning his face green.
“Of course, no combat training, what was I thinking?” he said in a placating manner and forced chuckle. “Just- just put the knife down… or at least promise you’ll use something sharper to kill me with.”
Holding the glare for several uncomfortable seconds longer, she slowly pulled the butter knife away from Stalwart’s nose, though never placed it back down, and said, “You’d live.”
Crossing his back legs, he muttered, “Right… Um, listen, Ornate, I… apologize for teaching your children that without running it by you at the time. I wasn’t thinking beyond wanting the two of them to be able to defend themselves to at least some degree in case the worst were to ever come to pass.”
“I hardly think they’re at risk of attack, Shield. They’re children.” Ornate said incredulously.
“Aren’t they?” Stalwart countered, eyes hard. “Maybe I’d think the same had my own son not been nearly foalnapped before he was barely even half a decade old.”
Ornate was stunned at that. “What?”
Nodding gravely, Stalwart explained. “It was a his fifth birthday when it happened, Princess Celestia allowed us to throw the party in the castle’s garden, Bluebelle always loved big parties, almost as much as showing off her son.” His gaze grew distant as he remembered. “So of course all of Canterlot ended up knowing about the party, and at least half of them were invited.
“The princess even took time out of her schedule to attend. I swear she doted on the lad nearly as much as his own mother.” He chuckled for a moment at the fond memory before becoming grave once more. “Everypony there could see how much her majesty cared for her nephew; it was heartwarming for most, but an opportunity for a couple who had managed to sneak in.
“To this day I can’t get my mind around what they were thinking, even after they were interrogated. They were young, teenagers, full of the recklessness that came with it. The mare, born to a noble family, fell in love and had gotten pregnant with the foal of a commoner, and was kicked out her home because of it.
“Bluebelle, bless her heart, was furious about that and wanted to help the girl as much as she could even after the fact, but it doesn’t excuse what she and her sleaze ball boyfriend did. He convinced her to fake going into labor there in the gardens as a distraction, she was far enough along that nopony suspected a thing, while he tried to lure my son away.
“Blueblood though, he was smarter than that, and he refused, so the stallion turned to force. How he expected to make it out of there with a screaming colt, I haven’t the foggiest, or how he’d actually ransom our son back to us, doesn’t matter though since it wasn’t long before I caught up to him. Broke one of his legs in three places when I did too, all my fear turned into anger. Those are things I hope you never have to experience, Ornate, it haunted me for months afterwards.”
Ornate was wide-eyed and spellbound by the story, staring at the stallion before her in a new light. “And what happened after?” she prompted.
Stalwart shrugged tiredly. “The stallion was imprisoned, though he was released some years back. I looked into it of course, he fled to some settlement on the outskirts of the kingdom, and I can only hope he’s a changed pony. The mare, well, all the stress of that day had her going into labor for real, but it was a healthy foaling and she was allowed to stay with her child on parole. Bluebelle and the princess took care of her, but I admit to not wanting anything to do with her, mad as I was, so I don’t know the specifics.
“Parties were different from then on. Bluebelle never threw them as large after and was always diligent about invites and knowing everypony there. That’s something the two did manage to steal from us, not our child, but that joy. Every birthday after that was less a celebration for her and more a reminder.”
The two were silent for a while until Ornate spoke. “Blueblood never told me.”
“We made it a point to not to talk about it around him,” Stalwart explained. “Hoped he’d just forget or repress the memory. He was young, and we didn’t want his birthdays to be ruined like they were for us. Maybe it worked, or maybe he avoided speaking about it around us to try and keep us happy.
“It’s why I started training him, you know?” he said, looking down at his nearly empty glass of water and swirling the contents. “I didn’t plan on not being there to protect him even before he was nearly stolen away, but that didn’t stop it from happening, so I wanted him to be able to protect himself. It helped my peace of mind knowing that he wouldn’t be defenseless.
“And I suppose it’s why I was teaching the twins how to buck properly. Maybe it’s ridiculous, Canterlot’s one of the safest places you can raise a foal, but I still worry about it. I want those two to be as safe as possible, and this is my way of ensuring that. The truth is, Ornate, as much as we want to be there for them every moment of their lives to protect them, it’s just not possible. We’ve got to hope and put our faith in the ponies around us to look out for them too, and that can be hard sometimes.”
Once again silence dominated the room as the pink mare eventually turned around and began whisking the eggs after turning the stove on. She levitated a few spices from the rack and sprinkling them in, dumping the mix into the pan with a bit of butter.
With nothing but the sounds and smells of sizzling eggs to fill the air, Stalwart began to feel regret. He had wanted her to understand his motives, but it seemed he instead inflicted her with the same fears that had been scratching at the back of mind ever since he saw the twins riding on Celestia’s back on their first birthday. They were precious to the alicorn, and that made them potential targets to anyone wanting to hurt her, but he knew how unlikely that was to occur.
He scared a new mother for nothing, piling yet another worry onto her already burdened withers. It was while he was trying to think of a way to alleviate the mare’s fears that she finally broke the silence. “You have to teach them responsibility too, if you’re going to teach them how to defend themselves,” she said, placing a plate of scrambled eggs and buttered toast before the stallion. “And of course actually tell them what they’re learning. It seems like that should have been obvious.”
Looking from the plate to her, all Stalwart could manage was, “What?”
“You can teach the twins how to fight,” she clarified, “but you have to be sure they understand the responsibility that comes with knowing. It’s for defense only, not so they can hurt others.”
A small smile slowly spread across his muzzle as it dawned on him. “Of course, don’t know what I was thinking, teaching them that buck without teaching them how and when to use it.”
“Neither do I,” Ornate agreed, giving a small smile of her own. “Now eat your eggs and drink some more water. It’ll help that hangover.” She began to leave the room, adding over her shoulder, “And clean up after yourself when you’re done. I’m not your mother.”
“Will do!” he called back, half of his eggs already demolished along with a slice of toast. Stalwart wasn’t sure how his son managed to catch himself such a fine mare. Guess luck must have run in his side of the family.
Blueblood the 16th sat at his desk, going over papers and letters from across Equestria. The Noble House of Blueblood had landholding and investments all over the kingdom and it was his job as head of the family to keep track of it all and make sure the ledgers were in order. It was all very taxing on both the spirit and the eyes, so when he heard the door of his study creak behind him, it was a welcome distraction.
“How are you doing, honey?” his wife asked as he pulled his reading glasses off and rubbed between his eyes. “Everything okay in here?”
“It’s fine,” he answered. “Everything seems to be in order so far. How about you?”
Coming up behind him, she laid her head on his shoulder with a small sigh. “I had an interesting conversation with your father just a while ago,” she began. “Did you know he taught Pure some sort of military buck? Guess that explains how she was able to take on a colt larger than herself.”
“… He did what?”
She chuckled at that. “Yes, that was about my reaction, though a few decibels louder. The sound proofing on this room is phenomenal.”
Blueblood didn’t find the humor however and began to push away from his desk. “I am so sorry, Ornate. I never would have thought my father could do something so- so reckless. I’ll have a talk with him put a stop to this before it goes any further than it already has.”
His attempt to stand was halted by a hoof on his shoulder. “It’s already done. Stalwart and I had a very long discussion about it, and… and I agreed to let the children learn from him, with the condition that he teaches them restraint, as well.”
“You… you did?” he asked incredulous, slowly letting the hoof push him back into his seat. “Why?”
“I figured it would be good for the twins to know how to defend themselves and each other is all. I don’t plan on letting them ever be in a situation where they’ll need to know such a thing, but it’s better to be prepared, right?” As she explained this, she draped herself over her husband’s withers and pressed a kiss on the side of his muzzle. “You never know what could happen.”
She tightened the hug and gave him another kiss, leaving him to place a hoof on hers and ask, “What brought this on?”
“I’m just grateful you’re here,” was the peculiar reply, and Blueblood couldn’t help but smile.
“Where else would I be?” Turning his head, he met one of her kiss with his own. “Where else would I rather be?” he added before going in for a deeper kiss, his wife giving a small moan of approval.
When they separated, he couldn’t help but get somewhat serious. “You really are serious about letting Father teach the kids how to fight? He’s not the easiest teacher, and they are quite young. A lot younger then I was I’m pretty sure.”
“He knows not to overdo it or else he’ll get the butter knife,” she said with a curt nod.
Blueblood raised an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know?”
“No, no you don’t.”
“Okay then.” Leaning forward, the stallion looked at his paper work with a tired sigh as his wife placed her front hooves back on the ground. “You know, maybe I’ll help him teach the twins. I remember most of what he taught me I’m sure, and that way I can make sure he doesn’t teach the twins anything too dangerous.”
“Really? I thought you hated training with your father?”
“Oh, I do, but honestly, it’ll be nice to get some exercise after sitting in this office for so long,” he answered. “Plus I’ll get to spend some more time with my children while I supervise them.”
Coming up to give him another kiss on the cheek, Ornate said, “Thanks, Blue, I’ll feel a lot more comfortable about this if I know you’ll be there watching over them.”
“You know I’d do anything for our children, love, even spend time with my drill sergeant of a father,” he replied, leaning his head against hers.
Giggling, Ornate gave him a light swat and backed away. “I’m sure your ‘Father of the Year’ mug will be coming in the mail any day now,” she joked, heading towards the door. “You want me to bring you anything? Some tea? A snack?”
“I’ll be fine,” he answered, putting his spectacles back on. “I should be done soon enough, then we can have tea and biscuits together.”
“Okay, love you dear.”
“Love you too.” And with that, the door was closed and Blueblood was left to return to his work. Picking up a quill, the stallion shot a brief glance out the window, imagining the warm sunlight on his coat as he spent time with the twins.
The image was enough to get him through the last of his paperwork.
When we arrive at school, I’m almost as hesitant to enter as our mother is to leave us. I can tell the fight, short as it was, rattled her just like me, but she puts on a brave face for her children and so I don’t let my resolve falter as I wave goodbye and enter the small building.
Blueblood is more than ready to face the day as he walks, head held high and confidence in each step. I can’t tell if it’s a façade or if he truly has conquered his fears, but it inspires me nonetheless to face my classmates with as much of that same dignity I can muster.
When we arrive, a hush falls over the class, dozens of eyes fixating on us as if we’re on fire. I shy away some, stepping behind my brother and following him as he walks in. A cursory glance around the room at least tells me Pauly didn’t show up today. It’s a small relief even if I’m a little worried I hurt him bad enough that he had to stay home.
“Hey, Table Flip, You ready to be taken down in tiddlywinks! Blueblood the Seventeenth doesn’t lose at anything more than ten times in a row!” Blue declares once we’re in front of one of his friends.
The colt blinks a few times, glancing over Blue’s shoulder at me before looking back at his friend. “Yeah…” he began slowly, face becoming more amiable. “Yeah, sure, I mean, if you don’t mind being beaten again.” His eyes dart to me and a spark of nervousness enters them. “Your, uh, sister isn’t gonna get mad if I do though, right?”
I flinch while I notice Blueblood’s eye twitch, but the smile never leaves his face. “Why would she?” he answers. “Pure doesn’t get mad about that sorta stuff, and I’m not gonna get beat anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”
Before the other colt can respond, Miss Torial calls for us foals to sit down, and we do so quickly. Sitting where I usually do, I realize quickly that something is amiss in that the spot besides me usually filled with Moondancer is occupied by a different pony. Looking around, I spot my friend a few spaces away just as she does the same. My heart clenches when she quickly breaks eye contact by hiding behind her bangs.
Guess I couldn’t keep a friend for even a week.
Blueblood has done spectacularly in negating yesterday’s fiasco, and I can’t help but be impressed by that. Not even a minute into our first break, a colt, an earth pony who was constantly getting scolded for chasing fillies around with bugs he had found, had approached Blueblood and his friends, a half-baked taunt on his lips about my brother’s defeat. Instead of getting angry or embarrassed however, Blueblood laughed it off. “Guess I tripped, huh?” he had started, bonking himself on the head.
“No, you were a crybaby,” was shot back.
“I had something in my eye.” The deadpan delivery threw his insulter off.
“No you didn’t.”
“Yep. It was grass from Pauly’s hoof. I was just trying to put in back on the ground.”
“Wha-? But, he hit you.”
“Nope, he just got grass in my eye and I was putting it back where it belonged like teacher always tells us.”
“But your sister-”
“Gets really mad if you don’t put stuff back where it’s supposed to go. You should see her with our toy box.”
“Oh,” the colt replied, obviously confused. “Um, maybe I should put this back outside.” He mumbled, pulling a slug out of his mane and getting the foals around him to cringe away. Once he was out of sight, Blueblood and his friends shared a laugh and went about their games as usual. The only difference was that Blueblood had invited me once again to join them, something he had stopped doing since my friendship with Moondancer. I had turned him down though, even though it did seem appealing, mostly for the fact that I didn’t want my brother to feel I was stealing his pals away.
We share so much already, he deserves to have something he can call his own. Besides, I don’t think the colts would enjoy my company.
I had continued to get strange glances, even during Miss Torial’s short lessons, and have resolved to spend play time by myself instead of making any pony feel uncomfortable. That’s the plan anyway, until I am approached by two fillies, Minuette and Twinkleshine if I’m remembering correctly. While the latter looks a bit pensive, the former is grinning widely. “Um, can I… help you?” I question.
Twinkleshine looks over to her blue friend who gives her a rapid nod of encouragement before turning back to me. “After yesterday, we were wondering, um, well Minuette actually wanted to know, if, maybe, you’re a, ah-”
“Are you a ninja!?” Minuette finally blurts out, getting slight scowl from Twinkle and a raised eyebrow from me.
“A what?”
“You know, a ninja! Warrior of shadows! Invisible assassins! Silent but deadly!” The blue filly strikes out at the air for punctuation, stumbling before her friend catches her.
As Twinkleshine blushes profusely and Minuette eagerly awaits my answer, all I can manage is, “What?” before shaking my head. “Why would you think I’m a… ninja?”
“Because you sent Pauly flyin’ yesterday!” Minuette exclaims. “You were like, pow! And he was down!” She demonstrates with a sloppy buck of her own and doesn’t manage to stay on her hooves this time, falling to her belly.
“Minuette was the one who thought you were a ninja,” Twinkleshine says. “I didn’t think that… mostly.”
After a second, I giggle. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m just a regular filly like you.” Assuming they were humans-turned-foals who couldn’t use magic, but that was better left unsaid.
Minuette frowns. “Oh poo. I was really hoping you were a ninja like in my cousin’s neighnga.” When I give an apologetic shrug in reply, she smiles once again. “Oh well, it was still really cool how you kicked Pauly like that. He’s kinda scary.”
“Um, thanks?” Not really sure if that was something for filly’s to be inspired by, but I’m too glad to have some foals that aren’t afraid of me to worry about being a bad influence.
“Why aren’t you reading with your friend?” Twinkleshine abruptly asks. “You two always read together.”
At this, I glance across the room to spot Moondancer just as she apparently does the same. When she once again averts her eyes, I sigh. “I… I just don’t think she feels like it today.”
“Have you asked her yet?” Minuette questions, getting to her hooves. “Here, I’ll go ask her for you.”
“No!” I shout, grabbing the filly’s back hoof as she turns. “You don’t need to bother her.” I can keep pretending we’re friends until she tells me otherwise, after all. “You want to read with me instead?” The attempted distraction actually seems to work as Minuette rubs her chin and looks back at me.
“Hmm, I don’t know, books are kinda boring.”
“Yeah, I only like books when Mommy reads me to sleep,” Twinkleshine contributes with a shrug.
“That just means you’re not doing it right,” I reply, chipper at the thought of spreading the love of books. Really, they’ll thank me when they find themselves bedridden and in need of entertainment, especially without television. It certainly helped me.
“How can we be doing it wrong?” questions the cream-colored filly.
“Here, let me show you.” I pat the floor next to me and the fillies share a look before taking their seats at my sides. “So, you want to take turns reading out loud? I bet we can make up some really silly voices.”
Minuette scratches at her ear. “Um, I don’t know how to read yet. Miss Torial is still teaching letters.”
“Oh, right,” I respond apologetically, remembering not everypony was like Moondancer, me, or even Bluey. “Well, Twinkleshine and I can teach you some as we read.”
Said filly blushes. “I don’t exactly know how to either…”
I blink a few times and take a breath. “Okay, lesson one then, how to read.” The unsure glance the two share doesn’t escape my notice, but I ignore it and open to the first page. They may not have expected more learning when they came over here, but I’m sure I can make it just as fun as the teacher does. “Page one, the Muffin Mare.”
By the time recess arrives, I’m about at my wit's end in trying to teach the fillies how to read. I knew they wouldn’t be able to learn in a day, sure, and even focused more on entertaining them with the colorful story then the lesson, but Minuette could not stop interrupting with questions, exclamations, and occasionally rolling around in laughter. It’s nice knowing the blue unicorn was enjoying herself, but with the slowed pace, we had barely made it through one book before we were ushered outside.
Now the fillies are practically demanding that I play with them since they had agreed to my idea earlier. “I don’t know girls, you probably won’t like playing tag with me,” I try. I doubt there are many other foals here that run laps and train with their enthusiastic grandpa, so I’m sure I’ll have an unfair advantage.
“Sure we will,” Minuette states with a smile. “It’s going to be great having more than three players!”
That catches my attention as I tilt my head. “Three? Who else is going to play?” I’ve always noticed these two together during class, but I don’t remember a third pony in their group.
“Oh, you haven’t met Lyra yet,” Twinkleshine begins, “She’s in the other classroom so we can only play together at recess.”
“Where is she anyways?” inquires the blue filly as she shades her eyes and starts scanning the playground. “I don’t see her anywhere.” Whipping a hoof out suddenly, she shouts. “Found her!”
When I see where she’s pointing, my stomach drops. There was Moondancer, fidgeting under our tree as a green filly tries to talk to her. “Hey! Hey Lyra! We’re playing tag, come on!” Minuette calls, running over to her friend before I can do anything. I don’t know what it is I could do, but it’s definitely anything that would help me avoid the conversation I feel is coming.
“Oh, I wonder if she's asking Moondancer to play with us?” Twinkleshine voices, smile coming to her face. “Five players sounds like so much fun.”
I gulp and watch as Minuette slowly frowns alongside her friend before pulling a reluctant Moondancer to her hooves. It actually makes me a bit angry as the fillies sandwich my friend between them and herd her in our direction. Moondancer is quite obviously not okay with this as she tries to back away, and I feel the same pressure bubbling up from yesterday when Pauly hit my brother.
Reminding myself that she’s not being hurt and these fillies are far too nice to do so, I force a smile as they arrive. “H-hey, Moondancer,” I begin, “How, ah, how are you doing?”
Several times she opens her mouth, only to manage a single squeak before Minuette cuts in. “Are you mad at Moondancer?”
“What? Why would I be-?”
Lyra sees fit to answer before I even finish. “She says you’re mad at her because of yesterday.”
“Of course not!” I blurt out. "Why would you think that!?”
Stunned, Moondancer whispers, “I got you in trouble. Why wouldn’t you be mad at me?”
My emotions are a hodgepodge mess of confusion, relief, and humor leaving me wanting to burst into laughter and cry, but I know such a reaction will only scare my shy friend, so I hold it in along with my breath for several seconds. “Moondancer,” I say after breathing out, “First, I’m not in trouble. I just got a warning to not hit another pony again.
“And second,” I continue before she has a chance to protest. “Even if I did get in trouble, how would it be your fault? You didn’t hurt anypony or tell Pauly to bother us. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Lip quivering, Moondancer falls on her bottom when Lyra and Minuette step away, tears building in the corner of her eyes as she answers. “It’s because I’m a loser. Y-you’re pretty and smart and a princess and I’m- I’m just me. Nopony would bully you if you didn’t hang out with me.”
“That’s not true!” I can hardly believe what I’m hearing as I stare at the wide eyed filly. “You’re not a loser! You’re smarter than me!”
“And your eyebrows are pretty!” Minuette supplies helpfully. “They’re like fluffy caterpillars. So cute!”
“And we’re not princesses either,” Twinkleshine adds. “That doesn’t mean ponies should pick on us.”
“Yeah,” Lyra stomps her hoof, a determined glint in her eyes. “Pauly’s just a jerk. He’d pick on Princess Tia if she was here. He’s lucky I wasn’t with ya or I’d punch him right in the nose, like a bunch!”
“Moondancer, I thought…” I begin, looking at the ground, “well, I thought you were afraid of me and didn’t want to be my friend anymore. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you earlier. You probably thought I was avoiding you.”
“I… I did, but,” I hear her sniffling as she speaks and look up. “I’m so happy I was wrong!”
“Gak!” Even as the crying filly accidentally cuts off my air supply in a tight hug, I still return the embrace, patting her on the back and letting some of my own tears fall. “So, we’re still friends then?”
“Yes!” She shouts in my ear, crying louder and tightening her hug much to the dismay of my poor larynx.
Threshold reached, I unfortunately have to end the embrace, pushing on her chest. It luckily doesn’t take much prompting before Moondancer sits back, a trail of snot running from her nose to my shoulder breaking. As her expression goes from overjoyed to mortified, I quickly intervene. “It’s fine,” I assure, wiping the mucus off with a hoof and transferring it to the grass. “See?”
Rubbing her own face clean with a foreleg, she gives an abashed smile and nods. “Great!” Minuette cheers. “Now we can play tag with five players! Five! That’s like- like twice as many players!”
Moondancer blinks, looking around. “T-tag?”
“Yeah” says Lyra. “You’re gonna play with us, right?”
Turning to me for guidance, I shrug helplessly. “Minuette and Twinkleshine wanted me to play… You want to join?”
Looking at the hopeful expressions of these new fillies, Moondancer gulps and manages, “Um, sure?”
The exuberance of the foals as they cheer is contagious and I grin as well. In truth, I’m actually looking forward to this game of tag now that Moondancer and I have resolved our misunderstandings. Besides the first couple of days when I allowed Blueblood to drag me into some of his games, I haven’t actually done more than read, and unlike then, it will be with my friends, not his.
Friends… Looking at these fillies as they excitedly go over the rules and argue over who will be it first, I’m surprised to find that, yes, I do see them as such. I’ve only just talked to two of them earlier today, and didn’t even learn the name of the last until mere minutes ago, and yet, I can’t imagine not being friends with them.
Lyra hadn’t even met Moondancer before as far as I know, and yet, she approached her as a stranger and sought to help her. Twinkleshine and Minuette did the same for me, thinking back, and I wonder if it really was just to ask a silly question, or if that was merely a disguise for their true intent of helping a fellow classmate?
“Tag, you’re it!” declares Minuette with a boop to my snoot and a toothy grin. “Catch me if you can!”
When I glance to the others, they shriek and take off, even Moondancer, leaving me dazed and confused as she hoofs it away from the dreaded “It”. Oh, I guess they finished up their discussion while I was deep into my ponderings and made the faulty decision that I should be it first.
That mistake will cost them dearly, I think, lips forming a wicked smile. Grandpa, I’ll do you proud.
Ornate arrived five minutes early to pick up her children that day, her father-in-law’s story perhaps frightening her more than she would like to admit. Still, she was eager to see the foals for other reasons as well, curious about how their day has went and ever so slightly dreading that the answer might be something along the lines of awful, terrible, and please never make me go back to school.
When the doors opened to a stampede of little ponies and she saw her smiling son saying goodbye to his group of pals, she was hopeful. When an equally happy Pureblood came out, smiling alongside not one, but four fillies, she was absolutely ecstatic. Maybe they should get in fights more often if this is the result, she joked to herself, stepping away from the other arriving parents and towards the foals.
Surprisingly, it was her daughter who ran up to her first as opposed to her rambunctious son. “Mommy!” she squealed, jumping up to hug the pink mare’s leg. “Moondancer and I made new friends today!”
“I saw that,” giggled Ornate, leaning down to nuzzle her daughter as the filly turned and waved to the three new foals who waved back as they left with their parents. “I’m proud of you.”
Beaming, Pure spotted Moondancer as the beige unicorn approached. “Oh, that’s right!” jumping to her friend’s side, Pure looked up at her mother. “Um, Mommy, I was wondering if Moondancer could come over and visit sometime this weekend so I could show her our library.” A beat later, she added a big, “Please.”
Absolutely! is what the mare wanted to shout while dancing on her tippy-hooves, but reeled herself in. No, bad Ornate, you are an adult, act like one. “Of course, dear, I think that would be lovely,” she said instead, a kind and calm smile on her face. “There’s her mother now, let’s go talk to her about setting things up.”
Both fillies hopped instead of walked and Ornate Garden had to restrain herself from doing the same. Oh, my sweet little filly’s first playdate. So exciting!
I can hardly contain myself as I sit in the foyer, watching the door intently. “You know, staring won’t make her get here any faster,” Mom says with a chuckle as she enters.
“Yeah, but she’s supposed to be here at noon, that’s now and I want to be here when she arrives. A good host always greets their guest at the door, right?” I reply, not even remotely persuaded from my vigil. When the playdate was scheduled yesterday, I had begged mom to take me to the library so that I could look for a book to enjoy with Moondancer, the two of us having agreed to have one completely new book to share with the other.
With Dad taking Blueblood to one of his friend’s house for the afternoon, it's up to me alone to entertain Moondancer, and I will not fail.
“Well, aren’t you a proper little hostess,” says Mom, nuzzling the top of my head.
I preen a little as I answer, “I learned from the best.”
“I’ve already baked cookies for the two of you for when she arrives, no need for flattery.” Mom giggles when I grin up at her and we both end up jolting when there is a knock at the door.
“They’re here!” I cheer, jumping to my hooves. “Open it, open it!”
Mom rolls her eyes with a smile, but complies. I’d do it myself, but with no magic and being as little as I am, doors still pose quite the obstacle for me. As the doors swing open under the command of Mother’s aura, I calm myself and stand straight, schooling my expression. “I’m so glad you could make it… Moondancer?” My greeting trails off as I see the blushing filly dressed in what I think is a blue tutu and ballet slippers.
The pegasus mare next to her smiles as my mother greets her. “Ornate! Sorry if we’re a bit late. I’ve never been to this part of the city before. The lawns are simply huge!” she replies, wings fluttering at her side.
Mom giggles. “It’s alright, Stepping Star, homes here are spaced quite far apart, why simply walking from the front door to the street can be exhausting sometimes.” Moving aside, Mom gestures to the interior. “Please, come in.”
As I shake off the confusion and offer my friend the same invitation, the peach yellow mare does just that, looking around the interior slightly awed, pushing her tangerine and dusty red mane away from her eyes to get an unobstructed view. “Wow, I dare say it’s bigger on the inside. Must be an absolute nightmare to clean.”
“Oh, it is. Even working alongside the staff, it can take hours,” confirms my mother. “Please, won’t you follow my daughter and me to the kitchen? We have refreshments I’m sure you’ll appreciate after the trek to get here.”
She nods and the two set off, Moondancer and I following behind. “So, nice… dress?” I say, looking after the still blushing unicorn filly. I give a forced chuckle and joke. “Heh, I feel kind of underdressed now. Didn’t realize we were supposed to wear clothes.” And isn’t that still an odd thought?
“Mommy made me wear it,” Moondancer finally speaks. “I didn’t want to, but she said I should look my best.”
“And it looks good on you!” I declare, hoping to cheer my friend up. No luck apparently.
“I hate it.” Her frown deepens. “Mommy got it for me for when she tried to teach me dancing, but I don’t like dancing and the tutu itches.”
“You know how to dance?” I find myself questioning, trying to imagine the bookish filly performing ballet. What does pony ballet even look like? Maybe I’ll ask Class Act about it. She’s been wanting to ‘broaden my cultural horizons’ after all.
“I don’t,” Moondancer says. “All I do is fall a lot and get sweaty, so Mommy stopped making me do lessons.” Her frown deepens as she adds, “But she kept the tutu and slippers because I don’t have any other dresses.”
“Oh…” Not even ten minutes into my first playdate and my guest is already having a bad time. Come on, Pure, turn it around. “Hey, maybe you can take one of mine.”
Moondancer looks up. “What?”
“Mhmm, I have a few dresses, and I only ever wear them for parties and stuff, so why not give you one?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” argues Moondancer with a shake of her head. “Those are yours.”
“Well, why don’t we trade, then?” I counter, giving her getup an appraising look. “Yeah, that’d work. All of my dresses are pink, so I think it would be kind of nice to have something in blue instead.” I look up at our mothers as they chat amiably and add in a whisper, “Don’t tell my mom I said that, she really likes me in pink.”
Moondancer worries her lip. “I don’t know…”
“I’ve got some really comfy ones~” I sing, tempting the filly. “Just think about it, No more itchy tutu.”
That works as her eyes immediately sparkle. “Deal!”
I giggle at her eagerness and she quickly joins in just as we finally reach the kitchen. Phew, playdate crisis one averted. Hopefully there won’t be anymore.
Ornate was doubly happy at the moment, both for the bliss on her daughter’s face as she and her friend ate their cookies with milk and the dramatic behavior of Stepping Star. “Sooo good,” she moaned around her own chocolate chip cookie. “And you said you made these?”
The pink mare hummed in the affirmative. “It’s the one thing I can bake better than our chef, and he’s been trying to sneak the recipe ever since he realized it. Too bad for him though, it’s a family recipe.”
Stepping Star shook her head with a chuckle. “I shouldn’t be surprised you have a chef,” she said. “My husband would be so jealous. He’s been trying to teach me how to cook for years now, but he’s still stuck on solo kitchen duty until I can figure out how to boil water without setting the stove on fire.”
Both mares giggle even more when the pegasus adds. “Really though, I keep a cloud in the kitchen in case of emergencies. Fire extinguishers were getting too expensive.”
Once Ornate caught her breath she patted her acquaintance’s hoof understandingly. “Now, now, don’t be too ashamed about it. I could barely scramble an egg without burning it before Cutting Board started giving me lessons. Really, that stallion's a miracle worker, maybe I’ll let you borrow him sometime.”
“Ed would definitely appreciate that,” Star said before looking down, her daughter having approached. “Yes, Moondancer?”
“Can I get my new book? Pure and I want to go read,” the filly asked, getting a slight frown from her mother.
“Of course, dear, but wouldn’t you rather play outside some first? You can read anytime and they have such a large yard here.”
Moondancer glanced over to her friend who was busy licking the chocolate off her hooves when she gave a shrug. “Um, maybe later…” the beige filly answered. “Can I just have my book?”
Sighing, Stepping Star nevertheless reached into the saddlebag hanging from her chair and pulled out a decently thick book to hand to her daughter. Balancing on three legs as she held the book to her chest, the filly smiled and gave a quiet 'thank you' which Star returned with a small smile and 'you're welcome'.
“We’re going up to my room, Mommy,” Pure said once she had cleaned herself of chocolaty goodness. “Um, can we have some more cookies for while we read, please?”
“Now Pure, you know three cookies is all you get before dinner.” Ornate answered sternly.
“But reading is so much better with snacks,” whined the white filly, bottom lip jutted out.
“Well then, I’ll bring you up some carrot sticks and cucumber slices in just a bit,” was the counter offer, getting Pure to flinch and Moondancer to perk up.
“I like carrot sticks,” the latter foal spoke up, getting a look as if she had just sprouted an extra horn from her friend and a broad smile from Ornate.
“I’m glad to hear that,” said the pleased unicorn. “They’ll be up shortly, so why don’t you two get settled in.” Looking to her disappointed daughter, she added, “And you can take one more cookie to split between you since it’s a playdate.”
Levitating the golden brown disc down from the table, Pureblood’s head appeared underneath it in a flash and she shouted a quick, “Thank you, Mommy, I love you!” before taking off, cookie bouncing on her noggin.
Moondancer struggled on three legs to keep up and the two foals soon disappeared behind the corner. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Ornate looked to her fellow mother to see a tired smile. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“It’s nothing,” Star answered. “I was just hoping that being at a friend’s house would finally pull Moondancer away from her books for once, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that’s not the case. From what my daughter has told me, your little filly is quite the little bookworm as well.”
“Yes,” Ornate confirmed, “though she also enjoys her time in the garden exercising with her grandfather and brother, to my occasional worry. My father-in-law can be a bit… intense at times, but he has been getting better.”
“Really?” Stepping Star leaned forward, eyes slightly wide. “You must tell me your secrets.”
Ornate snorted into small bout of laughter. “What?”
“I’ve been trying to get Moondancer interested in something other than books for nearly a year now, but it’s impossible,” Star explained, suddenly waving a hoof. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she enjoys them, she’s a little genius and I couldn’t be prouder of that. It’s just, I’m worried. I’ve tried getting her to play with other foals, but before your daughter, she just wasn’t interested in their games.
“Not to mention her health. Spending all day inside reading might be good for the mind, but not so much for the body. I’m already worried she’s going to ruin her eyesight.” she continued, picking up her cooled tea and taking a sip. “I love my husband dearly, but darn it all if our daughters haven’t taken after him in the most frustrating of ways.”
Ornate drank some of her own tea, listening to the mare. She may not have known Stepping Star all that well yet, but she could understand the need to vent once in awhile. “You have another daughter? Does she go to a different school?” asked the pink mare.
“Hmm? Oh yes, Dawn Blend is the older by five years,” Star explained, a touch of pride coming to her features. “She actually just got her cutie mark a few weeks ago.”
“Really? How exciting!” Ornate responded honestly, a new mark was always something to celebrate. “How did she get it?”
To this, the pegasus sighed. “It’s actually quite the funny story, and by funny, I mean infuriating,” she began, “For one, I wasn’t even home at the time, visiting some girls from my old dance troupe outside of Canterlot. And if missing my foal’s big day wasn’t enough, she got it by Ed letting her stay up ‘till morning on a school night.”
Ornate gasped at that. “He didn’t.”
“He did,” Star responded with a firm nod. “I suppose I shouldn’t complain, considering the results, but that didn’t keep Ed from getting an earful when Dawn told me the story.” She shook her head. “Anyway, after putting Moondancer to bed, the two of them ended up stargazing together the whole night, my husband’s favorite hobby, until sunrise and it was time to get ready for school. As it happened, Ed actually fell asleep before his daughter and she decided to surprise him with breakfast.”
“Oh no,” Ornate moaned, thinking she could see why the pegasus before her was upset. “She used the kitchen by herself.”
Surprisingly, Stepping Star waved a dismissive hoof. “I know what you’re thinking, but my Dawny’s a responsible filly and didn’t make a mess or burn down the house. No, she kept it simple with a couple of bowls of cereal. The one appliance she did use that was even remotely dangerous is also what got her her cutie mark. The espresso machine.
“She’s seen us use it plenty of times, and has apparently been paying pretty close attention, because when she finally woke her dad up, it was with, and I quote, ‘The absolute best cup of coffee he’s had in ages.’ Which is quite the compliment coming from my caffeine fiend of a husband.”
“A coffee making cutie mark, then.” Ornate said, trying to imagine what it would look like before simply smiling. “I’m sure it’s lovely.”
Stepping Star gave her own smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes, it is, and neither my husband nor I have been able to touch the espresso machine ever since. She’s up before us these days making coffee and she practices so much that Ed’s nearly bouncing off the walls by sunset. He’s talking about getting her the complete setup for Hearth’s Warming this year, she loves it so much, though I think he’s a little infatuated with the idea of getting lattes and cappuccinos at home.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” Ornate sighed dreamily. “Caramel macchiato on demand sounds like a dream to me… and a nightmare to my blood sugar levels.”
While both mares giggled, those of the pegasus sounded slightly forced, prompting Ornate to ask, “Is something wrong, Stepping Star? It doesn’t sound like you’re as pleased as your husband is about Dawn’s special talent.”
“Oh no, I’m very happy my Dawny’s found her talent and she’s so enthusiastic about it,” Star defended. “I remember when I discovered my love of ballet when I was a little filly. It was simply magical. I would dedicate every moment I could to practice; bug my mother constantly for lessons. She would always make time for me, the two of us spending hours together. It’s something I always dreamed of sharing with my own foals one day… Looks like it’s going to stay a dream.”
It was silent, one mare looking on with empathy while the other stared into her cold tea. “I’m a horrible mother, aren’t I? I should be overjoyed that my daughter’s found her mark and loves it, but with little Moondancer showing no interest in ballet either, I find myself brooding.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad mother,” Ornate stated, placing a hoof atop the other mare’s reassuringly. “You love your foals deeply and wanted to share your passion with them, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Seeing the unconvinced look on Stepping Star’s face, Ornate tried a different approach. “Think of it like this, from what I’ve gathered, your husband probably loves astronomy, right?”
Stepping Star blinked a few times in confusion, but answered, “Yes, he even owns his own shop he sells his custom telescopes from.”
“And you love ballet. Does the fact that you don’t share the same interest make the two of you love or enjoy each other’s company any less?”
Pulling her hoof away, Star looked offended. “Of course not!”
“Then it won’t be any different with your daughters,” Ornate concluded matter-of-factly. “I’m sure your girls will learn to appreciate your dancing just like you’ll appreciate Dawn’s coffee making talent and whatever amazing talent Moondancer discovers.”
After a few moments, Stepping Star finally began to smile again and the two shared in an air of understanding. It was like this for all but ten seconds while Ornate gave herself a mental pat on the back when her companion blushed and her smile dropped. “I can’t believe I just unloaded on you like that and we barely know each other. I am so sorry, Ornate.”
“It’s okay,” the pink unicorn told her, but Stepping Star shook her head.
“No, I really mean it. I grew up in a small town where everypony knew one another, but I know Canterlot’s not like that and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable practically being a stranger opening up like that and-”
“Star,” Ornate interrupted. “It’s okay, really. Don’t let the house fool you, I’m not some stuffy noble without empathy. I come from a very close, crazy family that was very big on the touchy-feely stuff. Really, I’m sort of honored you were comfortable enough to share your worries with me like that; it's kind of like we’re sisters, or something.”
“…You really aren’t bothered by it?” the pegasus hesitantly asked.
“Not a bit,” Ornate insisted, getting her new friend to heave a huge sigh and slump over.
“Oh, thank goodness. For a second there I thought I had just went and made things weird with the mother of Moondancer’s first best friend. Would have really made any future playdates and birthday parties awkward as all get-out.”
Ornate had to playfully roll her eyes at that as she stood up. “Speaking of playdates, I think I promised our daughters some healthy snacks a while ago and I’m sure they’re well over halfway through their books by now. Why don’t you help me make a plate?”
Looking nervous, Star’s eyes darted fervently as she tapped her hooves together. “I don’t know, I told you how horrible I am in the kitchen and I wouldn’t want to ruin anything.”
“I highly doubt you’ll be able to ruin this,” Ornate responded. “Come on; consider it a lesson in basic cooking. Lesson one, peeling carrots and slicing cucumbers.”
Standing, the peach yellow mare’s wings twitched nervously, but she still smiled. “Alright, that sounds easy enough, let’s give it a try. What’s the worst that could happen?” As soon as she uttered those words, Ornate got the strangest premonition that perhaps she should keep the pegasus away from the kitchen after all, but she pushed it away.
Because really, what’s the worst that could happen?
Moondancer and I are just finishing up the book she had brought, What Do Ponies Do All Day, when our mothers come bursting through the door, looking tired, but triumphant as they hold a platter over their heads between them. “Snacks are here!” Mom declares, levitating the plate from their hooves to set it between us. “We made them special just for the two of you!”
Looking from the plate to her mother, Moondancer asks, “You helped make this?” When the mare nods, smiling widely, Moondancer follows up with, “Is it safe?”
Examining the plate myself, I do notice that half of the carrot sticks have the texture of gnarled oak and some of the cucumber slices are a bit mushy, but overall, I don’t see the problem. Veggies are veggies, they’ll pale in comparison to sweets no matter the shape.
Moondancer has higher standards however, as she gives the plate a wary glare until her mother says, “Of course they are, that’s the best of all the batches just for my little scholar.”
“Two bushels of carrots and five cucumbers,” Mom says. “But we finally got enough to fill a plate.”
Persuaded enough to not fear for her life, Moondancer leans down and grabs a green slice in her mouth before slowly drawing it in as she chews. Stepping Star waits with baited breath, eyes staring wide at her daughter until the filly gives a surprised smile. “It’s good!”
Leaping into the air with a cheer and flutter of her wings, Star exclaims, “I knew you’d like it! Oh, Ed is going to be so surprised when I offer to cut up the vegetables for the stew tonight! Maybe I’ll even bring the pot to a boil!”
“Foal steps, Stepping Star, foal steps,” Mom says, placing a hoof on the other mare's withers and pushing her back to the floor. “We don’t want to bother the fire department tonight, do we?”
“I guess you’re right.” the pegasus response with a yawn. “The exhaustion’s got me a little loopy, I think. Kitchen work is hard.”
“That it is,” Mom agrees. “How about we go rest in the parlor for a bit, hmm?” When Star agrees, Mom looks back to us. “Do the two of you need anything else?”
“No, we’re good,” I answer, pulling my head away from the proffered carrot stick Moondancer offered, getting her to shrug and stick it between her lips. “We’re going to finish this book and read mine, then I think I’m going to show Moondancer the garden.”
Mother beams at this, always happy to have her hard work appreciated. “Okay then, sweetie, just come tell me when you’re ready and we can all go out together. Maybe we’ll have a light lunch while we’re at it.”
As the mares leave, I remember something Mooney and I were discussing earlier and call out, “Wait!” When they turn around curiously, I continue. “Moondancer and I were talking, and we were wondering, well, can she and I trade dresses?
“What?”
“See, I just think her tutu is really cute, but she thinks it’s itchy and I don’t think any of my dresses are, so why not switch? I get something blue and she can get something comfier. Win-win!”
While Mom ponders over this, Stepping Star looks a little hurt. “Do you really not like your tutu, Moondancer?” she asks, which gets her daughter to look down with a guilty blush. Even still, she nods and her mom looks on for a few more seconds before sighing. “Well, tutus can get pretty itchy. If Ornate agrees, I don’t see why the two of you couldn’t trade,” saying this with a smile, Moondancer looks surprised, but still gives a hopeful one of her own.
“They are about the same size,” observes my mom, mulling it over for a few seconds more before giving her consent. “Okay then, we can look through your dresses before they leave. I’ve been meaning to get you something to contrast with your eyes instead of matching them for your next birthday, so this might do wonderfully.”
Much to everpony's surprise, Moondancer runs forward and hugs her mother’s leg. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Why, you’re welcome, dear,” Star finally says, smiling fondly and rubbing the top of her daughter’s head. “Really, you should be thanking your friend and Ornate.”
Quickly throwing a couple of thanks our way and returning to the book, the filly snuggles close, still beaming, and grabs another carrot stick, becoming the absolute picture of contentment.
I can’t help but feel the same as our mothers leave and we happily return to reading. I dare say I’m a natural at this hostess thing; my guest is in soaring spirits, and I barely even know what I did.
From the moment I wake up the next day, I am smiling, still overjoyed by yesterday’s successful playdate. Once we had finished reading, Moondancer and I were taken out to the garden and trotted around behind our moms while mine named each flower to her friend. We fillies didn’t pay nearly as much attention as the pegasus however, as we continued a debate over which career portrayed in Moondancer’s book was the best.
She had chosen the firefighters, her reasoning being that they had saved her family’s house on two separate occasions before her Mom gave up kitchen work. I conceded this was a valuable service, but my counter argument was for the Equestrian Guard. While rushing into burning buildings to rescue ponies was most definitely brave, guards also had to put themselves in harm’s way to protect us, including, but not limited to running into burning structures themselves.
After all, any guard worth their armor wouldn’t stand idly by while ponies were in need of rescuing. Grandpa Shield once told me about how he pulled three cooks from the castle kitchen when an overworked pastry chef fell asleep trying to meet the princess’ cake quota. Dad said he was lying, but it seems pretty believable to me.
It’s why I think Aunt Celestia should hire more pastry chefs so that they can divide the workload. It’s what I would do if I were in her position.
Anyway, the argument continued on until finally our mothers gave their opinions, my mom going the practical route of the sanitation worker since their job was a constantly required service, and Stepping Star suggested the eventual winner, though I still think she cheated. It was a total guilt-trip bringing up the librarian; Moondancer and I both were morally obligated to cast our votes for the kindly old mare with how often we made use of her services.
Eventually we all sat down for some tomato, lettuce, and cheese sandwiches in the garden, prepared solo this time by my mom, and I even managed to wheedle a couple of chocolate milks into the deal.
After that, it was time for my friend and her mother to leave, but not before the adults discussed another playdate, this one next weekend at their house. Moondancer was quite excited at the chance to introduce me to her big sister.
When Dad got home with Bluey, I recounted the day’s events with nearly as much enthusiasm as my brother did. Table Flip apparently has an impressive assortment of board games at his house which Blueblood insists we get so that I can try them, and I can’t help but wonder if Moondancer would want to join in.
Alas, it’s a new day and one to be spent with family. “Fall in!” Grandpa Shield shouts, getting Bluey and myself to snap into place and wait for orders. They don’t come however as the older stallion glares at Dad who is sitting off to the side. “I said fall in, soldier…”
Looking around before pointing at himself, Dad responds, “Me? Oh no, I’m not one of your soldiers, Dad, I’ll do my own workout. I’m just here to make sure the children aren’t learning anything they shouldn’t.”
“I don’t need a rookie to determine that,” Grandpa shoots back, leaving me confused.
“What do you mean teaching? I thought we were just exercising like always,” I ask, glancing over at Blueblood to see if he knew what was going on. He seems just as confused though.
“I was going to talk with the both of you yesterday, but I figured it could wait while you enjoyed time with your friends,” Grandpa elaborates. “See, I’ve been… well, no point in sugar coating it, that bucking I’ve had you two practicing, it wasn’t just strength training, it’s a fighting move.”
Both of us are even more confused, but I still try to decipher the words. “But I thought bucking was bucking. It’s just for hitting stuff, right?” I mean, sure, that stuff could be a pony I guess, as I’ve shamefully experienced first-hoof, but that’s just plain obvious.
“It’s military style,” Dad chimes in, looking at his son who tilts his head. Standing with a sigh, he elaborates. “It’s what soldiers use to hurt bad guys the most instead of just knocking fruit loose from trees. It’s more dangerous than regular bucking.”
Immediately, my mind flashes back to that day at school and I’m filled with dread. How close had I actually come to hurting that colt? How much worse could things have been?
Blueblood doesn’t seem to share my concerns however as a grin slowly splits his face. “That’s so cool!” he exclaims, hopping in place. “I’m gonna be a super warrior prince beating up bad guys!”
“Now, now, son, that’s all well and good but you’ve got to learn control first.”
“Huh?”
“Your father’s right,” Grandpa picks up. “Violence should be your last resort, always.”
“Bu- huh? What’s that mean?”
Much to the surprise of the adults, I’m the one who answers my brother’s question. “It means that if you can solve a problem or stop a pony from doing something bad without hurting somepony else, you have to try that first.” I sniffle, but hold back tears as I reflect on what Blueblood and I have been told already in a new light. “Like with Pauly, even though he was picking on us, I shouldn’t have bucked him like I did. I stopped him, but he could have been really hurt and I should have went to the Miss Torial first. If she could have stopped him without hurting him, that would have been better.”
“Oh…” Bluey responds, scratching the back of his head. “That makes sense, I guess.”
“I’m glad you understand,” Dad says to his son before coming over to pat me on the head. “And I’m very proud of you. It can be hard to really admit your mistakes and not just say you understand what you did wrong, but you do understand, and I know you won’t let it happen again.”
“Actually, can I just do the regular training?” I ask when I look up. “I don’t think I want to learn how to fight.”
Both Grandpa and my brother are verbally disheartened by this, but the colt is more so. “Ah, come on! Don’t cha want to be a super cool warrior prince- er- princess too?”
“I don’t want to hurt anypony,” is my answer.
“Pure, sweetheart, you remember all the stories I’ve told you, right? From back when I was still on active duty?” Grandpa Shield began, coming to sit in front of me. “I’ve had to stop a lot of bad ponies, and a lot of those times, I had to get physical to do so. And it’s like you said, if there had been another way, a way that didn’t involve hurting somepony, I’d have done it, but that way isn’t always there. I won’t make you learn if you really don’t want to, but don’t you think it’s better to know just in case?”
Mulling over his words, I can see the logic in them. Sure, I could have stopped Pauly without bucking him, but what if I couldn’t have? What if somepony was trying to hurt Bluey or Moondancer and there wasn’t a grownup to run to? What if, to protect them, I had to fight but couldn’t? What would happen to them?
I bite my lip at the thought before heaving a sigh. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“Yes!” Blueblood cheers with a hop while Dad frowns.
“Now, Pure, I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured into doing this,” Dad says. “You don’t have to take the fighting lessons if you’re uncomfortable.”
It’s tempting, but I’ve already made up my mind. Even if it didn’t make Grandpa and my brother happy, the thought of those precious to me being in danger because I declined the lessons is too much to ignore, so I say, “It’s okay, Daddy, I… I want to learn. I really do. I’m just a little nervous is all.”
“Well don’t be,” Grandpa crowed, pounding a hoof off his puffed out chest. “If I can whip those sorry excuses for recruits who join the guard these days into shape, than a couple of toughies like you two will have no problem at all. You are my grandfoals, after all.”
“… Right.” Dad drawls, giving the older stallion a dry look before letting his eyes slide back to me. “If this is really want you want, than we can start the lessons, but I want you to know that if you ever want to stop, you just have to say so.” He leans down and adds in a stage whisper, “And don’t let Dad scare you with all the huffing and puffing, I’ll be right here the whole time so he doesn’t get too crazy.”
“Hey! I already told you they’ll be perfectly safe, I don’t need you supervising me.”
“I trust you to responsibly train my children unsupervised about as much as I trust fifty year old dynamite not to explode when dropped off the side of Canterlot,” Dad snips back matter-of-factly, getting Grandpa’s eyelid to start twitching before he continues, “but seeing as I am here to supervise, there’s nothing to worry about. Now, shall we proceed?”
Grandpa Shield opens his mouth, no doubt ready to barrage his son with a verbal bombardment, but is interrupted when my brother shouts, “Stop talking! I want ta learn how to kick butt now!”
Every pony present blinks owlishly at the outburst until Grandpa chuckles. “You’re right, we’ve been jawing long enough. Let our glorious training… Commence!”
Ornate Garden was just putting the finishing touches onto a small snack for her family, working around the first aid box on the kitchen counter that she pulled out for its inevitable use, when a servant came in and startled her. “My lady, there’s a stallion with a colt at the entrance wishing to speak with the head of the household,” the servant announced dully.
“Oh, do you know who it is? We weren’t expecting visitors,” Ornate replied, turning fully. Thinking about the other guest who was apparently waiting outside, she added, “And I’m sure my son would have mentioned if he had invited a friend over.”
“I’m afraid not, my lady, though both seem tense, so I do not believe they’re here to exchange pleasantries. Would you like for me to send them away?”
“No, no, let me get a look at them first. Whatever they’re here for might be important. Tell them I’ll be right there once I wash up a bit, would you.”
With a nod, the servant disappeared and the matriarch busied herself with quickly wiping down the counter’s surface and placing the neat stack of sandwiches in the refrigerator, confident they would not become stale in the short time she would need to attend to these mystery guests.
With that done, she quickly made her way through the halls to the foyer where she spotted the earth pony visitors waiting. The larger of the two was well-muscled under his copper coat with a mane that she’d have believed black if not for the brown shimmer revealed by the streaks of sunlight hitting it from the window. As for the colt, he was a chestnut brown color with a true black mane.
Not unlike Star yesterday, the stallion was looking around the house with a bit of awe while his son, if the family resemblance was anything to go by, was staring at the polished floor. “Hello, I’m Ornate Garden, who might you be?” the mare decided to start with, getting the two to jolt.
“O-oh, sorry, didn’t see you there, ma’am,” the stallion began, quickly bobbing his head in her direction before clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders. “The name is Lance Vamplate, and this is my son, Bronze Pauldron. We’re here to discuss the… altercation between him and your foals a couple of days ago.”
Her smile tightened, but she still responded levelly, “Ah, I see. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Vamplate, and you to, Pauldron, but I’m afraid the twins are in the garden with their father and grandfather and won’t be in for some time, so-”
“Ma’am, please,” Lance interrupted, “I know this might not be the most convenient time, but it took a lot to convince… somepony to come here, and I’d rather it not be for nothing.” With a slight gesture of his head, the stallion directed Ornate’s gaze to his son, who she could see the downturned face of somewhat distorted in the tile. There was a fierce blush burning through his cheek fur and he was biting his lip.
“… I suppose they are about due for a break. We can go out back and meet them.”
“Um, can I…” The foal finally spoke up, voice surprisingly tiny for a colt his size. “B-before, can I, uh, can I use the bathroom?”
The father sighed his son’s name under his breath, embarrassed, but Ornate’s smile became soft and genuine. “Of course, Pauldron, I’ll have one of the servants show you the way.”
Soon after, the two adults were left alone to walk through the large house in silence. “So… is it an apology you’re after,” Ornate finally asked, getting her companion to frown.
“I think Bronze is owed one, yes,” he began, getting a glare before he continued, “But my wife has convinced me that he should be giving one, as well.” He turned to look straight at her. “I know how you noble-types are, thinking the whole kingdom should bend a knee to you just because of a fancy name and title, so hearing my son got in a fight with a couple and beat didn’t really sit well with me. But I understand what he did was wrong and that he needs to make amends. I just hope your kids- that you understand that too.”
His piece said, Lance waited for Ornate to compose her thoughts, of which there were many. While she could understand what the stallion was getting at, having attended plenty of parties where she was forced to smooze with vapid nobles, and even his anger, she wasn’t at all happy with what he was implying.
“You aren’t a very tactful pony are you, Mr. Vamplate?” she finally asked.
“Probably not,” he responded, “If that means I don’t like to beat around the bush. I’d rather say what needs to be said and be done with it. Saves time for everypony.”
“Even so, it’s not wise to come into another’s home and insult them or their children,” she countered. “Especially when you are so incredibly wrong. Not my husband, my foals, nor I think I can mistreat others simply because of who we are, and while I understand there are many nobles who do, to just come in here and assume we are among them… Well, let’s just say you’re lucky you have your son with you, or else I’d toss you across the front lawn myself.”
Ornate was happy to see the ice in her voice got a minute shiver to run down the earth pony’s spine, and was even more pleased by his apology. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I meant no disrespect. I was just telling you how I felt is all, but I know I can come off as abrasive sometimes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Or at least that’s what my wife always says. I guess that means I tend to throw a lot of insults around without thinking much of it.”
“You should work on that,” the mare commented. “And as for that apology your son is owed, I agree.”
Lance blinked a few times. “You do?” he said surprised, getting a nod.
“Yes, as long as Bronze Pauldron is willing to apologize, then it’s only right that Pure reciprocate the gesture. It wasn’t right what he did to her and her friend, or hitting my son for that matter, but that doesn’t make what she did in return any better.”
“Well… I’m glad we agree,” Lance said just as they slowed to a halt before a pair of double doors. “I guess I really was wrong about the sort of nobles you all are. The giant house kind of threw me.”
“Yes, we get that a lot,” responded Ornate with a smirk. If it weren’t for this being her husband’s ancestral home, she’d be perfectly content downsizing to something a little more cozy. It’d be less work for the servants, too. “Anyway, this is where I told Polish to bring your son when he was done in the bathroom. The rest of the family should be just beyond here.”
The two didn’t have to wait long for the colt to be delivered, the silence filled by the dampened sound of grunts and yells from outside that had Ornate quite curious of what was going on. When the doors were opened, the answer came in the form of her daughter shouting, “Ouch! You bit my ear!” followed by a yelp from her son as he began whining about being punched in the nose.
“Children! This is grappling only!” reprimanded her husband.
“Nonsense! If you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying! Good improvisation, lad!”
“Father! Don’t encourage them!”
“And what exactly is going on out here?” Ornate said as she and their guests approached, expression calm save for a thunderstorm brewing behind her eyes. “I thought we agreed they would be starting slow. I had hoped the lessons would begin simple enough that injuries wouldn’t be had straight from day one.”
“Nopony's hurt,” Stalwart Shield quickly defended. “It’s just a friendly spar is all.”
“My ear disagrees.” Pureblood grumbled, tapping the teeth marks in the sensitive flesh with a hiss.
“And ma nose,” Blueblood added, voice thick as he tilted his head back and tapped the tip of his snout. Pulling the hoof away, he blinked a few times before shrieking, “Ah! A’m bleedin’! I’m gonna die!”
As three adults were quick to swarm the wailing colt, Lance looked around, uncertain of what to do. “Maybe… we should come back later, after all.”
“Wha-? Who are you?” Stalwart said, noticing the new voice and looking up. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Lance squinted in response, looking at the older stallion with an inkling of familiarity until his mind subconsciously provided a set of guard’s armor to complete the puzzle. When it did, the earth pony snapped a hasty salute. “Drill Sergeant Shield!”
“Drill Sergeant?” Shield muttered, looking a little closer before widening his eyes. “Ah! Yes, I remember, you tend the armory at the castle.”
Lance winced. “The position is rotary, but yes, I do take more than my fair share of turns distributing equipment.” Under his breath, he grumbled something about card games and having to learn when to fold’em before shaking his head and asking, “You live here, Sergeant Shield?”
“Much to my growing regret,” the older Blueblood breathed before speaking up, “And who might you be, sir? I don’t believe we were expecting visitors today.”
Just then, Ornate spoke, “There, there, Blue, see? The bleeding has already stopped. You’re okay.” Balling up a couple of red spotted tissues, the mare helped her sniffling son to his hooves as he wiped his eyes.
Brushing the tears aside, the little unicorn absently looked around his mother to spot their guests, eyes going wide at the sight of the other colt. “P-pauly!?” Quickly glancing down at his tear-soaked hoof and his doting mother, the younger Blueblood jumped back. “I wasn’t crying! I’m just cleaning my face!”
“Pauly?” a small voice whispered from the side, Pure having stepped away to tend to her sore ear while her brother was swarmed by grownups. “W-what are you doing here?” When the larger colt looked at her, she quickly broke eye-contact, missing the bright blush of the boy as he did the same.
“This is Lance Vamplate and his son, Bronze Pauldron, from the twins' school,” Ornate supplied, getting a slight frown from her husband. “They came to talk about the… altercation between our children.”
“Is that so,” the older Blueblood spoke, studying the pair. “And what is there to-”
“I’m sorry!” blurted the brown colt suddenly, getting Blueblood to snap his jaw shut and raise a curious brow. “I shouldn’a took the book or said it was stupid even if it was or not give it back or punched Blue just ‘cause he pat me or-or-or bein' ah jerk!
“I want ta be a guard like Papa and Ma says I’m gonna be big and strong and really good at it, but guards don’t hurt ponies or make ‘em feel sad, that’s what Ma says but I did it anyways and it was wrong, and-and-!”
“I’m sorry, too.” Pauly went quiet when he heard the soft voice speak, glancing over wide-eyed at the white filly brushing a hoof across the grass and forcing herself to meet his gaze. “And… I forgive you for picking on me. I’m sure Moondancer would too if she was here, so you don’t have to cry anymore.”
At this, the colt reached up to touch his cheek, surprised to pull it away wet. Quick to try wiping it all away, he mumbled a quiet, “Why?”
“Well, it’s over now, isn’t it? And you said you’re sorry, so why be mad or sad about it?” was her answer. “I felt really bad about bucking you afterwards, so I’m… happy you’re willing to forgive me… Um, you do forgive me right?”
“Uh, Y-yeah,” Pauly began, smiling slowly. “Yeah! Really, it hurt, but it was super cool! I can’t even kick that hard! Y-you must be, like super strong or something!”
Pure blushed at this and smiled faintly while her mother cleared her throat. “Well, this has gone better than expected. I’m very proud of you, Pureblood,” the mare said, beaming.
“Wow, that was unexpected,” Lance breathed before looking down to his son. “I mean, that was real good of you, Pauldron. I’m proud of you, too.”
With similar compliments going around, Bluey frowned before walking up to Pauldron himself, chest out and head tilted slightly back. “I’m still mad that you tried to pick on my sister, but if she’s okay with it, I guess I am too. And I guess I’m also sorry for hitting you. That wasn’t nice.”
“Oh, uh, it’s okay, it didn’t hurt none,” Pauly said uncertainly, taken off guard by the colt and unknowingly getting a twitch of the brow.
“It’s okay to say it hurt. I did hit you kinda hard and I’m sorry. Nopony will think you’re a wimp or anything.”
“Really, I didn’t feel anything; you don’t have to say sorry.”
Eyelid twitching even more, the unicorn colt suddenly yelled, “I wanna spar with Pauly!”
Blueblood the 16th rolled his eyes with a humorous smirk as he said, “Now, son, Even if Pauldron here wasn’t a guest, I highly doubt he or his father want-”
“Hey now, the more the merrier,” Stalwart said, “Pauly said he wanted to be a guard, and it’s never too early to start learning how to fight. Isn’t that right, Lance?”
“Wow, really?” Pauly interjected, turning to his dad, “Can I dad? It’d be really fun!”
“Uh, I guess if the Sergeant will be supervising the match…” Lance answered, surprised by the unexpected turn of events. “Not exactly sure how his mother will take it though.”
“Bah! I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear about it,” Shield dismissed. “It’s good for foals to socialize and burn off some energy. Helps them have good dreams and sleep like dragons.”
“This is so cool!” Pauly cheered, all nervousness leaving him as he turned to Pureblood. “Hey! Can you teach me that buck thing! I wanna do that stuff too!”
The earth pony colt grunted and stumbled a step when Blueblood suddenly bounced off his side after an attempted tackle. “You’re fighting me first!” the unicorn demanded, getting a hearty laugh from his grandfather and a shake of the head from his mother.
As Stalwart and his son worked to pry the little prince from around Pauldron’s legs to actually inform the new boy of the rules, Ornate turned a tired look at their guest. “Well, it looks like you’re going to be coming around more often than you expected.”
“Guess so… Maybe I should bring the missus around sometime. I’m sure Tink will want to meet you all.”
Despite herself, Ornate sighed and smiled, watching her son try to take down the colt nearly twice his weight while her daughter cheered him on. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
Hello? Is anypony here? The… room, is quiet. Where am I? Or… was I? Everything is a blur, but I try to remember. Surely there’s a reason I’m here in this white place. The low hum that fills the air makes it hard to concentrate.
Wait… That sound… Fluorescent lights? But why…? I look around, shielding my eyes with a hand as the blinding white begins to dim and reveal shapes. It’s a hallway, spotless under the buzzing lights above. Antiseptic.
This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be here, and… wait. Hand? Legs. Feet. This- I wasn’t like this- or I was, but not anymore, not after-
I stumble forward a step, my desire to leave, to go anywhere but here taking control. My body acts every bit as alien as it looks as it moves, not under my control, but under my direction, as if it has a will of its own and is merely obliging me. I need to get away from here, the buzz of electricity growing louder, roaring in my ears.
It’s so hard, like walking on two stilts instead of four sturdy hooves, but the sight of double doors drive me forward faster. A sprint has me bouncing off walls, jarring the bones of this brittle, sickly body and causing a dull ache to radiate through each underused joint, but my palms eventually smack into the cool metal of the push bars, the sensation faint yet sharp, and I tumble through the heavy doors.
I’m panting on my hands and knees, eyes glued to the wooden floor, sanded smooth, but unpolished. He never got around to it before I got sick again, and I never got to come back to see it finished.
The buzzing is gone, replaced instead with the innocuous ringing of silence. My body works to push itself up slowly, almost reproachful after the marathon I forced it through, but still manages to get its feet planted beneath me. I fall back, slamming against a wall, dizzy from both the action and height of standing. Everything is much farther down than I have grown used to.
Feeling the wallpaper under my hands, running my fingertips along the familiar floral patterns, I do not even need to turn to recognize it. How can one remember a place so vividly when they hardly got to spend any time there? Shouldn't I forget?
Eyes that I didn’t realize were shut open to reveal home. Not the extravagant halls and high ceilings, the paintings and potted flowers brought in from the garden, but a small, quaint living room with an old couch facing a rarely-used fireplace and big carpet I’d always have my childish distractions sprawled across.
There are people- not ponies- on that carpet. Two sitting that are so, so familiar, both wearing bright grins, and a third standing between them I’ve never seen. This time, my body and I agree wholeheartedly and I push myself forward, wanting nothing more than to grab hold of these two and never let go.
One step. Two step. Three… Four. Fi- What? I press against a wall where there is none, fingers splayed across a barrier I cannot see. Pushing does nothing. Hitting. Punching. Pounding with everything I’ve got does nothing, doesn’t even make a sound.
I call out to them, but they don’t turn to me, don’t even flinch as they stare unwavering at the little one between them, a little girl, familiar yet not, with hair the same color as that which hangs in front of my sight now, and eyes just like her mother’s.
With a healthy glow to her skin instead of a sickly pallor. With legs that hold her tall as she jumps and plays instead of buckling under her own weight. With a smile that outshines the sun instead of one so brittle as to only be outmatched by those of a mother and father forced to watch their child die.
Similar but different. A younger sister to replace the useless older one.
When did I fall to my knees again? It doesn’t matter as I feebly try to get their attention, even just a fleeting glance, shouting with all the might my weak lungs could muster, trying to be heard over my own hiccuping and tears.
It doesn’t work, and why should I want it to? They’re happy, happier than they ever were with me. I should let them be happy with their new life. That’s what I decided, isn’t it? They’re better off. I have… I have new…
A muffled gasp from behind has me whirling around to see… ponies? Mom? Dad? Why are you looking at me like that? I… It’s me... It’s… Who am I?
Blue? Bluey, no, don’t- don’t be afraid. It’s me, remember? I’m your… I know I look different, but I’m- No, I’m not a monster, I’m not, I’m just different.
Please. I’m still your sister. Don’t leave me. Mom, Dad, Brother. You're all I have left. Please.
Please.
…
… …
… Pure…
… Pure, wake up…
…. Pure, I said, wake…
“-Up!”
“Aaah-! Ooph!”
“… Oops. Uh, sorry, sis, but you wouldn’t wake up.”
“Bluey?”
“Well, duh, who else would be in the bed with you? Pauly?”
“Wha-?”
“You were crying in your sleep… Are you okay?
“I… it’s nothing. I’m sorry for waking you.”
“It’s okay… Are you sure?
“Really, I’m okay, just a… just a nightmare. Let’s get back to sleep. We have school in the morning.”
“Um, okay.”
“…”
“…”
“… Bluey?”
“Yeah?”
“I… I love you. Always.”
“Oh, uh, I love you always too… H-hey! Don’t squeeze me so hard!”
“Sorry.”
"... Are you going to let go?"
"Just for a little longer, please. Until I fall asleep again."
“Is it even a possibility?” Ornate asked Doctor Mend as her husband took the twins out of the room, their daughter carried on his back. “I mean, should we even bother? Surely she doesn’t need to go.”
“Mmm, well, judging by these results, it might not be such a bad idea, sending her to magic kindergarten.”
“But she can’t even use magic.”
“Yet she has enough to use.” The doctor looked up from the day’s test results to meet the pink mare’s gaze. “Her reserves have increased by another fair increment, putting her just above where the professors and I believe should be the point at which her magic can start expressing itself.
“And her internal leylines have begun to widen, as well. The greatest surprise by far. Before your daughter came along, we’d never have known the inability to cast magic in those afflicted with mageiasthenia was from more than simply lack of mana. To think the very network in which mana circulates through the body could be stunted. Professor Augur is a genius for suggesting the use of an MRI scan to examine her inner leylines. I’d have never thought of it since such procedures are usually reserved for pegasi having trouble with flight, what with their leylines being so expansive as part of aiding flight. Guess being a pegasus himself aided in coming up with the thought.
“You know, it’s interesting, seeing the difference between the pony tribes in this regard. In the case of pegasi, the leylines run from the core to the wings and hooves, spread far apart, and easily damaged in the extremities, yet a unicorn’s is much less prone to damage, or at least, damage to the leylines is usually the result of fatal injury, and thus is rarely an issue after the fact. See, the leylines run straight beneath the spinal cord from the core, ball up within the frontal lobe, and wind tightly along the horn.
“I’d dare say if it were all laid out, it’d probably be longer than the leylines of an earth pony or-”
“Ahem. Doctor, can we please return to the topic of my daughter.”
“O-oh, sorry, I got a little distracted. It’s just, what we’ve been learning from your daughter is all so exciting. I really can’t express how grateful I am to your family for allowing me to share Pureblood’s medical results with my acquaintances at Celestia’s School. I know I asked if I could bring them into the study directly, but this arrangement has been working better than expected. We’ve made so much more progress than I’d ever have managed on our own.”
Ornate forced a smile and replied, “As long as it helps Pureblood, we’re willing to give you whatever permission you need, but as you were saying earlier about Pure and magic kindergarten.”
“Uh, yes, well, as you might remember me mentioning last time, ever since we decided that it was okay to use magic around Pureblood, the rate at which her mana reservoirs have developed increased by nearly twenty percent, and while we cannot be entirely certain without a proper control group to compare with, my acquaintances and I believe the exposure might be serving as a form of therapy.
“As such, even if she cannot yet use magic herself, being in a classroom full of foals that can and are actively practicing might help her condition improve further. Plus, since she should have both the mana and pathways to at least channel magic to her horn, it might be a good idea to for her to begin learning the basics of spellcraft.”
Doctor Mend returned his focus to the papers in front of him. “With her impressive intellect, I’m sure that your daughter will be able to grasp the concepts where her instincts seem to be failing. It’s an intriguing thought; where most ponies can utilize magic naturally on at least some level, Pureblood is practically unaware of the mana inside of her. I wonder if this lack of instinct is a direct symptom of mageiasthenia, or a side effect of simply not having access to her magic from birth as with uninflicted foals…”
When Ornate cleared her throat once again, the stallion jolted and turned to her once more. “Sorry! Sorry,” he quickly said, putting his papers down this time to give his patient’s mother his full attention. “Now, uh, as I was saying, I do believe magic kindergarten will be good for Pureblood, to at least some degree. It’s of course your decision in the end as I can’t tell you to send your daughter to an already voluntary program, but, well, if it helps…”
Ornate sighed. “Yes, if it helps… So, is there anything else to discuss before we leave, Doctor Mend?”
“Mmm, I don’t believe so. Everything is in order and now all that is left to do is take today’s test results over to the school to go over with the professors. If anything of note comes to light after that, I’ll be sure to contact you right away.”
“Of course,” Ornate said with a nod, standing up. “I’ll tell my husband your suggestion, and we’ll talk it over. As always, it was nice seeing you, doctor.”
“And you too, Ornate,” the stallion responded. “Pureblood really is a delight on her visits. I wish all my patients behaved so well. Sucker for the road? Pure fell asleep before she could take hers.”
The mother smiled and took the proffered candy, one for each of her children, and left the room with one final goodbye. Doctor Mend was an odd one, easily distracted and excited, perhaps a bit too focused on research for its own sake instead of her daughter’s, but he was a kind stallion nonetheless. He didn’t try to pressure them at all when they told him that Pure would not be going to Celestia’s School to have even more tests done on her by even more strangers, and was perfectly happy with merely being able to share his own results with his colleagues instead.
Pure was anxious enough with just one doctor poking and prodding her, she didn’t need an entire herd of academics putting her under a magnifying glass.
Still, she was maybe a little upset that he had unknowingly taken her husband’s side of their debate about whether Pure should attend magic kindergarten with her brother. Blueblood thought it might help her finally perform some form of magic while she argued being around so much potentially wild magic could end up hurting her. Foals of their age were still prone to magical surges if they were strong enough, after all.
It seemed however, that she had lost, her side of the argument would not be victorious and Pure’s vacation away from school would be filled up…
“How you feeling, sweetie?” Dad asks as soon as he hears my awakening yawn. Doctor visits have a tendency to wear me out and a nap is usually required once the tests are done. I also usually wait until I get home to do so. Oops.
“Fine,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes and looking around. We’re at the start of the front lawn, a good few minutes hike before the house. “Sorry you had to carry me.”
Dad chuckles in response. “It’s no trouble, you needed rest.”
“And now that you got that out of the way, we can go start playing as soon as we get inside,” Bluey says excitedly, a determined glint in his eye. “I’m gonna catch up today. You're only four wins ahead of me.”
“Good luck with that,” I reply smugly. “I’m well rested and ready to rumble.” Over the months, our training has become a sort of competition between him, me, and occasionally Pauly with wrestling being the de facto test of strength and skill, which has had quite the positive effect on Blueblood.
Having another colt to pit himself against has pushed my brother’s progress to the point where he and Pauly are almost evenly matched nowadays. Of course, I’m still ahead of them both when it comes to grappling, the proper use of one’s head beating enthusiasm and raw power.
“There'll be time for that later, children, right now we have something important to talk about,” Mom says, much to my worry. I don’t remember Doctor Mend giving any indication that anything was wrong after the last test. In fact, he said I was doing much better, so why was mother so serious right now?
The questions plague the entire time we are left to wait in the living room, Blueblood trying to spark up conversations I am only half listening to while our parents are talking in the other room. When they finally return after what feels like an eternity, I'm both relieved and anxious.
“So, what’s the important thing?” I find myself blurting out, just wanting to know already. “Is… is it about the doctor visit today? Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no, sweetie,” Mom says, moving to comfort me, “it’s just the opposite, in fact, though it does have to do with the doctor visit.”
“It seems Doctor Mend believes your condition has improved enough that you might actually be ready to start using your magic,” Dad adds, fighting to keep the smile on his face from bursting into a full-on grin.
Stunned silent by the revelation, I can only sit slack jawed while Bluey starts hopping on the couch cushion. “Really? Ya here that, Pure? I told’ja the magic practice would work!”
“Magic practice? What magic practice?” Mom asks, frowning.
“Every night before bed I’ve been helping Pure try to get her to her horn glow,” Bluey answers with a proud grin “She didn’t think it was helping, but I saw sparkles so I knew it was, and now the doctor says you can do magic!”
“Wha- But- You could have-” Mom frustratingly tries to find words before clamping her mouth shut and breathing deeply through her nose. “No, there’s no need to be upset, Ornate, Doctor Mend would have noticed if Pure was hurting herself. So what if your daughter was potentially agitating her condition that the medical field barely understands, she’s okay now, so no harm done.”
After whispering this to herself and breathing a few more times, Mom directs her words towards her son. “That was very nice of you to try and help your sister get better, dear, but I think it’s for the best that we stop this for now until we discuss it with the doctor.”
“But why? It’s helping, you said so.”
“It’s okay, Mom, really. I’m pretty sure it isn’t hurting anything,” I interrupted, more understanding of my mother’s worries. Bluey may not have listened or understood what it was our mom was mumbling about, but I got the gist and with hindsight could see where she was coming from. When I was sick… before, the doctors always stressed how important it was for me not to strain myself, that I needed plenty of rest or else I wouldn’t get better, and that’s why I wasn’t allowed to walk up and down the hallways to break up the monotony of hospital life more than once in a great while.
It stands to reason then that trying to force magic when you barely have any could cause a problem or two. “But we don’t know for sure-” Mom, began, only to be interrupted by a hoof on her shoulder.
“Calm down, Garden, I’m sure it’s fine,” Dad says reassuringly. “The doctor's only seen improvement in our daughter since we've been taking her, so it mustn't have done her any harm, right? And even if it did, which I doubt, well, it’s too late to tell now. Besides, practicing her magic is what we’re supposed to be discussing, so it’s all a moot point.”
“But, what if she, I don’t know, stunted her growth or something?” is Mom’s meek reply before sighing. “I guess you’re right, but we’re still going to bring it up at the next doctor’s appointment.”
“Of course, but until then,” Dad turns to us, “We’re going to talk about you two attending magic kindergarten during this break…”
I freeze up at this, everything suddenly coming together as Blueblood whoops. I’d heard of the voluntary class for young unicorns from my friends, understanding that it's for unicorn foals to start learning the basics of magic, but by that very virtue, I assumed it was something that I would not have to worry about.
“Yes! We’re going, and Pure’s coming too!? I can’t wait to tell my friends!”
“Yes, yes, I know it’s exciting,” Dad says, chuckling as he tries to calm the bouncing boy. “That’s what we’re here to decide. You, son, are of course more than ready to go if you want, but we wanted to ask your sister for her thoughts.”
“Mine? But, I can’t use magic, so why ask?” I cut in, tilting my head in genuine curiosity. “How am I supposed to learn how to use something I don’t even have?”
Because you do have it,” supplies Mom as she places a hoof on my back and sits down next to me, Dad taking the spot next to Bluey. “The doctor said so, and he also believes the kindergarten will be the perfect place for you to learn how to draw upon it.”
“Okay,” I respond slowly, “but if that’s the case, then why can’t I just stay home and learn from you and Dad?” The idea of failing in front of an entire classroom, not once, but repeatedly as I failed to use the magic I supposedly had is not an appealing one.
My parent’s share a look before Mom speaks again. “Do you remember when you were afraid to go to school and asked why I couldn’t be your teacher, and I told you that the school would be able to do a better job than I could? Well, it’s the same now. The kindergarten teacher will know how to help you more than your father or I, so don’t you want to give them a chance?”
“Yeah, and you’ll be with me!” adds my brother. “And Moondancer is for sure gonna go, she loves school too much not to. And I bet a lot of your other friends will be there too. Just watch, it’s going to be super fun! We’re learn how to throw fireballs and fly and shoot lasers-”
“You’re thinking of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, Blueblood,” Dad says with a chuckle before taking on an air of pride. “You won’t be going there for a while yet.”
“You’ll mostly be learning the basics at magic kindergarten. Levitation, control…” adds Mom, getting a small frown from the colt.
“I already know that stuff.”
“But not all of the other foals will. Don’t worry son, it won’t be a waste of time. You’ll no doubt improve greatly under proper guidance.” Looking at me, Dad continues, “Plus you’ll be able to help your sister more, too… That is, if she decides to go.”
All attention once again focused on me, I fidget while they expect an answer. I truly do feel that this will be an embarrassing waste of time, but then again, what would I spend that time on otherwise? Bluey will be gone half of the day, along with most, if not all of the girls, and I honestly can’t imagine returning to such tedium now that I’ve experienced what it’s like to have friends.
Pauly might be free, but he already spends a fair amount of time here training with us and probably won’t want to hang out with just me. What would we even do, exercise even more until we collapsed from exhaustion?
Slumping, I give the only answer I can. “I’ll go…”
Amidst the cheering and assurances that I’ll enjoy the extracurricular class, I can’t help but sit silently and feel a similar nervousness to the first day of preschool. Reminding myself how well things had turned out then, I smile ever so slightly, hoping that perhaps I’ll meet new ponies there and make more friends.
The last day of preschool was more emotional than I had expected when the class said goodbye to our teacher. More than a few tears spilled between some of the foals and even Miss Torial herself. Still, the wonderful mare made sure the day would not be one of sadness as we spent the entire class outside and feasted upon the multitude of different pies she had brought.
Minuette was worried one of the flaky confections would have snails hidden within it on account of our teacher’s cutie mark, but she assured us with a laugh that simply wasn’t the case. She kept her snail pies at home for herself knowing how acquired of a taste they were. After that, even I was just a little hesitant, worried she may have mixed up one of the pies for a slimy surprise, but the fear was unfounded as we munched down on all sorts of fruit-filled delights.
I wasn’t even mad that Mom had us skip dessert and midnight cookies after school. Miss Torial is one amazing baker.
What followed was a week spent away from the classrooms and with my family and friends. Seeing as we all were effectively going to school over our vacation, we had to fit as much play time as we could into those seven days, visiting each other’s houses and enjoying the short break to its fullest.
Pauly visited more frequently outside of training too, and even hung with my friends on one occasion. That playdate was a bit awkward at first seeing as Moondancer practically froze up and Lyra wouldn’t stop glaring at the poor colt like she was trying make his head explode, but we eventually had some fun by playing a board game Bluey had borrowed from his friend.
The knowledge that I’d have the girls as well as my brother at my side while attending the magic kindergarten that I’d probably fail miserably at made me feel almost prepared for the hardships to come… Until I was actually standing outside of the building.
The parents had all met up this morning so that we foals could walk together to our new school, but even with the others chatting excitedly around me, I still feel intimidated. It’s much larger than the little school house I have grown used to, the front a sturdy, plain brick in lieu of a cheerfully painted exterior.
It makes me think more of a bunker than a schoolhouse, ready to withstand anything its student body could throw at it, and after I’ve seen some of the things Bluey could pull off in his infancy, I imagine that’s quite a lot. There’s a thought I hadn’t considered when I agreed to go through with this. I’m going to be in a room full of magical children as they try to unlock the secrets of the arcane.
Can I still reconsider? “Isn’t this exciting?” Moondancer whispers next to me. “Big sis says they have some really good books here to teach foals about magic. I can’t wait!”
Looking over to see the filly literally hopping up the path, as well as the smiling faces of the other foals has me sighing and smiling along with them. I’ll stick it out for as long as I can if it makes them happy. I mean, how long will it possibly take before the adults realize I’m a lost cause and remove me from class?
“Looks like it’s going to be a packed classroom this year,” one of the parents observes.
“What do you expect when there are so few kindergartens in the city? Must be nearly all of the unicorn foals in Canterlot here,” another responds, and I find myself agreeing with the statement.
When we reach the entrance we’re greeted by a much larger crowd of ponies than there ever was at the preschool, with noisy foals running between grownup legs and more than a few magic sparks being shot from excited horns. I can practically feel the magic in the air, and not in a pleasant way.
Mom must see me scratch at my horn because she leans down and whispers, “Are you okay, Pure? Is the magic bothering you?”
“No,” I answer, “It sorta feels like I have bugs crawling on my horn, but it doesn’t hurt. Just tickles.”
“Well, I’m sure once all the adults leave and the foals settle down for their lessons, it will be better,” Mom reassures, and I do my best to believe her.
“Where’s the teacher?” Stepping Star questions, hovering above the crowd and shielding her eyes from the morning sun. “Shouldn’t they be here to greet the parents?”
“S-sorry! Excuse me! Coming though!” Suddenly, a stallion wearing what I can only assume is a baseball catcher’s outfit comes running up the path behind us before tripping on a loose shin guard. “I’m okay! The gear works!”
The smile behind the wire frame of his mask vanishes as he looks up to all the eyes staring down at him. “Um… I’m terribly sorry I’m late, gentleponies. I hope none of you were waiting too long for me. This getup is almost as tough to move around in as it is to put on, Heheh…”
“Oh, I hope they’ll be alright,” Ornate fussed as the adults walked together. It was decided that their little group was going to enjoy a late breakfast before returning to the Blueblood estate to wait for the first day of school to get out.
“I’m sure they will be.” Blueblood soothed, bumping shoulders with his wife.
“But what about our little filly? her condition’s-”
“-Been explained in a letter, so her teacher is aware of it,” finished the stallion with a good-natured roll of the eyes. “You’re working yourself up over nothing, dear. I’m sure Mr. Scatter will have everything under control. You remember magic kindergarten when you were younger, right? Those teachers are tougher than army vets and twice as seasoned. That stallion will take good care of them.”
“Actually, I heard the usual teacher for the class retired early so she could move down to Manehatten and spend time with her family or some such, so this’ll be this new teacher's first year teaching,” Stepping Star states conversationally, not taking note of the sudden tensing of all the unicorns in the group.
“Grab hold of your wives, boys! They’re making a break for it!”
“Let go of me, Blueblood! I need to save my babies!”
If you asked me this morning what could distract a room full of eager foals from wanting to learn the ancient secrets of the mystic arts, I’d probably not have an answer for you, and if you asked me now, I’d be too distracted to answer as I watched a wiry, sky-blue unicorn flail as he tried to remove a bunch of sports equipment.
Yanking his face free from his headgear, the stallion wipes the sweat-soaked, white mane from his brow and places the mask on his desk alongside the rest of the outfit. “Phew, I need more practice getting in and out of that thing,” he mumbles before freezing under the stares of his students. “Well, uh, now that that’s out of the way, it’s a pleasure to meet all of you, I’m Light Scatter, or Mr. Scatter if you’d like… as you probably already know… from when I introduced myself to your guardians… Yeah…”
“Um, you’re the teacher?” a filly calls out, getting the stallion to brighten.
“Yes indeed, and I’m quite looking forward to the experience,” he answers, standing straighter.
“Well, when’er ya gonna teach us!” demands a surly colt with a hoof stomp. “My pa can shoot thunder out his horn, I wanna learn that!”
At the declaration, other foals erupt into similar claims and demands, stomping hooves and filling the air with multicolored sparks. I wince; the none-too-fun tickles across my horn more intense within the enclosed space while Mr. Scatter looks similarly uncomfortable. Though, the heavy swallow and slow reach for his pads speaks more of fear than uncomfortable tingling.
“Now, now, children, we’ll get to all of that eventually… probably, but all great magic must be built from a steady foundation, which of course means the basics-”
The stallions words only seems to confuse and frenzy the foals more, Lyra and Minuette included while Moondancer huddles closer and my brother frowns, throwing a quick glance in my direction. Just as I begin to fear the magical powder keg that is the student body is about to blow, I’m startled by a loud bellow of, “Shut up!”
And surprisingly, everypony listens, heads whipping in our direction to stare at my brother who huffs through flared nostrils. “Mr. Scatter, what’s first?”
“O-oh, well, um,” the stallion flounders for words before clearing his throat. “We’ll start with trying to reach our magic first, and going from there. Show of hooves, how many of you can’t use magic yet? Don’t be shy, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, put them up. We’re here to learn, after all.”
Some semblance of control gained, hooves slowly began to rise under the teacher’s command, mine joining them along with Minuette and slightly less than half of the classroom. More than I expected honestly, being sure I’d be in a far more extreme minority, but Mr. Scatter seems to be pleased.
“Well, that’s better than I expected, and I’m sure you all will be able to proudly keep your hooves down when I ask again at the end of the day.” Smiling with new confidence, the teacher jolts slightly a moment later. “Oh, but before we move on to all that, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten. I’ve introduced myself, but we still need to hear your introductions!”
“…That was really, um, cool, the way you got the class to settle down,” I whisper from the side of my mouth, wishing to distract myself from my current failing attempts at magic. After us foals each introduced ourselves to the class, a process far less nerve-racking than the previous time I had to do it, the teacher went into a brief lecture and explanation of our first exercise.
I’m embarrassed to admit, but I had actually been a little hopeful starting out, the advice was different than what Bluey often gave and was coming from a teacher. Add the positive conclusion of my recent doctor’s visit, and I actually thought I would manage something.
But it was useless, so now, after nearly ten minutes of trying, I wait eagerly for my brother to respond with something to take my mind off it all. “They were being stupid,” he answers coolly, but failed to hide the proud smirk twitching at his lips. “You gotta have discipline if you want to learn, just like Grandpa says. He would have been really angry if he saw that.”
“Yeah, he would have had them all lined up doing a dozen pushups before running twenty laps around the classroom,” I respond, giggling at the mental image of Grandpa Shield giving foals a dressing down.
Blueblood stops smiling and opens one eye, peeking up at his faintly glowing horn before looking to my dark one. “How’s, uh, how’s it going? Any luck?”
Breathing a sigh, I shake my head. “Nope, nothing.”
He looks around the room to see only a few other dead horns and many more beaming faces. “It’s not hurting, is it? Being around so much magic?”
I take a moment to think about it and realize that, no it’s not that bad at all. I can feel it, sure, but even with more foals using magic, it’s not as itchy. It’s more like a gentle pressure, like running water. “No,” I finally answer. “I can feel it, but it’s not bothering me anymore.” Maybe it’s because it’s more controlled instead of the agitated bursts from before?
“I-I’m doing it!”
“Yes you are, very good, Moondancer!” I look over to see my best friend staring practically cross-eyed at the faint pink glow emanating from her forehead. “Pure! Look, I’m doing it!”
“I see that, good for you,” I say honestly, only to wince as her horn radiates more than her expression.
“Whoa now, take it easy, little one!” Mr. Scatter tells her with a chuckle. When the beige filly hunches sheepishly and stops her magic, he continues. “You have some real potential there, Moondancer. We’ll have to make sure you reach it.”
A glance down the line shows the rest of our friends glowing with both pride and magic and I look up to see the teacher eyeing Bluey and me. “Blueblood, you’ve managed a steady flow this entire time? Impressive.” He says before focusing on my inactive horn. “Do you need some help there, Pureblood?”
I look to the floor and give a shrug. “It… probably won’t help, I don’t think I can do it,” I admit, preferring Mr. Scatter not waste his time on me while there were other students who needed help.
“Don’t say that, I’m sure you can do it.”
“I really don’t think so. Um, I kind of have a… condition.” I go on, feeling my cheeks heat up.
Luckily, I’m saved from having to explain myself further as the stallion opens his mouth for a second, snaps it shut, and quickly trots to his desk, eyes wide. After searching through a folder until he settles upon a single page, Mr Scatter returns, expression contrite. “Yes, Pureblood, I should have recognized the name,” he says, though it seems to only partially be directed at me. “Tell you what, little one. Why don’t we keep trying for bit, hmm? Don’t worry about doing anything just yet, but let’s go over the exercise.”
The gentle smile earns a slight one from me and I nod. He explains once more the exercise, and asks if I'm doing it. Let’s walk through it together, shall we? Yes, my eyes are shut, and I'm focusing all of my attention on the base of my horn. Shut out everything else as best I can, don’t feel anything other than that spot. It’s kind of hard though when the rest of my horn is still tingling, but I’ll try to ignore it.
Use my imagination next. My horn is a faucet, and I’m turning the tap. Yes, that’s just a bit silly, isn’t it? Maybe a hole, as black as I can imagine in a field of white. What’s inside? Can I reach it? No. Maybe try jumping inside, and remember, stay focused on the base of my horn. Can I find anything? Any warmth, perhaps …?
“… No,” I answer with a sigh, opening my eyes and feeling regretful. I knew it would be a waste of the stallion’s time.
“Hey, don’t look like that. I’m still sure you can do it, we’ll just have to work a little harder,” Mr. Scatter soothes, patting my shoulder. Another student shouting in frustration, one of the few remainders sticking out like a dim bulb in a line of tree lights, gets the teacher's attention, and he says, “Listen, Pureblood, why don’t you keep trying for now, and later during lunch, we’ll talk, okay?”
“Okay,” I answer, more than glad to let him help the other students. Looking at the clock, I see that more time passed than I thought and lunch is only a short ways away. Nodding, Mr. Scatter is off and trying to calm the angry foal.
“Um, I’m sure you’ll get it real soon, Pure,” Moondancer whispers to me, prompting the rest of our little group to chime in with similar encouragement. It starts to work too, even with Minuette shaking me by the shoulders and proclaiming me a ninja wizard in the making, I can’t help but smile.
Maybe, just maybe, I can do it. After all, four fillies, two parents, one doctor, a teacher, and my own brother can’t all be wrong, right?”
“See, the building's still standing and there aren’t any royal guards in sight,” Blueblood said with a reassuring smile. “I told you it would be okay.”
“Maybe, but don’t think this means you’re forgiven,” Ornate shot back with a frown. “You tackled me to the ground.”
“And you gave me a bloody nose. Can’t we let bygones be bygones?” Her husband countered, laying his neck across her withers, not getting the pink mare to change her expression at all.
“… When we see the twins, maybe,” she answered, still not looking away from the entrance along with many other anxious parents. Word got around about the green teacher it seemed. “… And at least two boxes of chocolate.”
“Deal.” Just then, the doors opened to a colorful wave of rushing light, little foals already eager to show off their glowing horns to their guardians. Ornate watched anxiously, tapping a hoof and gnawing her lip as the seconds dragged on. She was just about to rush the building when she finally saw them, the foals of their group rushing out and greeting their parents, followed by three more and a blue stallion.
A flash of worry struck at the pink mare’s heart as she noticed her daughter sagging, propped up between her brother and Moondancer, but the tired smile on her lips kept her from leaping to her little filly’s aid. “Pure, are you alright? You look exhausted,” Ornate asked, kneeling down to meet her children.
“I am,” the filly answered, smile growing big as she mustered the energy to stand tall. “But I’m okay, Mr. Scatter helped me, and-”
“Pure lit her horn!” little Blueblood blurted out. “More than just a spark like at the house too. It was glowing for, like, five seconds!”
At the news, Ornate’s eyes widened. “Is that really true?”
As Pureblood nodded triumphantly, Mr. Scatter spoke up. “Yes, it may not seem like much, but I think it shows great promise for her future development. Though there are some things I wish to talk to you about.”
“And that is?” the older Blueblood asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Well, you see, we didn’t have much luck at the beginning of our first exercise when the whole class was trying to reach their magic, but I hypothesize that it was because of the other students that she was having so much trouble. I believe with so many foals using magic around her that it exacerbated her condition and ruined her concentration.
“Now, if this is the case, I believe it’s important that Pureblood practices at home or at least when there are no other unicorns using magic nearby to see if that helps. And that’s what I’d like to ask you two.”
“You… want us to oversee our daughter's practice at home?” Ornate concluded, getting the blue unicorn to smile faintly and nod.
“Yes, if you could, and share with me the results. If it is the magic of others ruining her focus, then it will have to be something we tackle early on. But before she can learn to ignore the magic of others to utilize her own, she first has to be able to use her magic at all.”
After a few seconds, Blueblood smiled widely, looking down to his foals. “Well then, it looks like we’re going to have your sister joining us in the gardens for practice from now on, Son. I hope that’ll be okay.”
Bluey beamed up at his father and exclaimed, “That’s gonna be awesome! I can’t wait, right, sis…? Sis?”
“Um, I think she fell asleep,” Moondancer commented, struggling against the weight of her limp friend as she snored lightly against her side. “Um, can somepony help me? She’s, ah, k-kind of heavy.”
It’s nearly unfathomable, and utterly amazing, but every pony there to witness it assured me that it was real. I used magic. I really used magic. Even if it was only for a few seconds and accomplished nothing more than a minor light show, I actually used magic.
I hardly care at all that it threw me for a loop doing it and I had to be carried home on my father’s back. I mean, sleeping away the next three hours was a little more disconcerting, but that still pales in comparison to the fact that I, in fact, am capable of something as amazing as magic.
I’ve never been so eager for school in either life as I am now, and this is the reason I argued so vehemently that I not be made to stay home for the second day of class.
When I had finally managed the mystic display, it was at lunch. Mr. Scatter had pulled me aside and explained his theory, that perhaps the magic of other foals was disrupting my concentration or otherwise blocking my magic, and wanted me to try again while the students were busy eating.
As much as the chocolate chip cookie Mom had packed for me was calling my name, I decided it could wait a moment while I failed again at the simple exercise. But even as skeptical as I was, I quickly noticed a marked difference in how it felt when there was no magic around. Where before the imaginary faucet gave up nothing but air, this time it was as if I could feel the pipes rattle and hiss.
And when I delved down into the dark abyss conjured within my mind, I felt as if I was ankle deep in soothing warmth. I did it then. I pulled that heat from the realm of thought and forced it into the real world. The faucet trickled, and I felt a buzz upon my horn that, for the first time, did not feel foreign. No, it felt like it belonged.
Then my legs went wobbly and I saw spots. Amongst those spots however, there was a pale pink glow, and I spent the rest of class in my seat, stuck there by both exhaustion and awe.
It was the former symptom that had my parents worried; their argument being that I shouldn't push myself too hard and that perhaps I should be examined by the doctors again. It took a promise of keeping my magical practice to the gardens with Dad and the rationalization that the classroom could still provide me with the magic theory I would need to learn for them to concede.
And so now I sit in rapt attention of Mr. Scatter’s lecture. It seems the stallion hasn’t quite learned his lesson about using overly complex language towards foals, but he’s watching the faces of his students closely and at least making an attempt to clarify when too many confused expressions start to appear.
Luckily, my good friend Mister Dictionary has prepared me for this and so I understand the gist of what the teacher is trying to tell us. Well, as much as one can understand talk of mana and spellcraft. Maybe I should have read more fantasy in my previous life. Would I be having an easier time now if I had read that book about witchcraft and wizardry? It had to be popular for a reason, after all.
“Well then, are there any questions, or should we move onto our first spell?” Mr. Scatter asks. He isn’t prepared for the unanimous and extremely enthusiastic vote to proceed, flinching as the foals yelled. Really, even if there were questions, most of these ponies would probably rather hit the ground running and ask questions later. While I’m not one of them, my mind brimming with curiosity, I’m not about to get between these foals and their first real taste of the arcane arts.
“Uh, g-good, I’m glad to see you all so… eager. Just give me a moment, I nearly forgot something, and then we can continue the lesson,” Mr. Scatter says, pulling a burlap sack out from under his desk and removing the familiar protective gear he had started yesterday with. “Feel free to talk amongst yourselves while I prepare.”
“So, what do you think the first spell's gonna be?” Twinkleshine asks, voicing the same inquiry as many of the other students.
“I hope it’s that thing where there’s a poof in one place and you end up someplace else at the same time!” exclaimed Minuette, jittering in her seat. “I saw a grownup do that once and it would be super useful for saving time.”
“Um, teleportation sounds like it would be pretty hard to start with,” Moondancer chimes in. “I’m sure it’ll be something easier for our first spell.”
“It’s gonna be levitation,” Bluey states with absolute confidence, smirking. “It’s what every unicorn learns first. I already know it though.”
“Really?”
At Twinkleshine’s skepticism, Blueblood squares his shoulders and lowers his horn, the familiar blue glow encompassing his bagged lunch and hefting it into the air.
“Wow,” Minuette breathes, stars in her eyes. “How’d you learn to do that already!?”
“Dad taught me,” he answers, huffing as he drops the bag onto the table. Though he’s hiding it well, I know him well enough to tell the task was harder than he’s making it sound. “We practice every other day and he’s says I’m really good for how old I am. Don’t worry if you don’t get it right away when Mr. Scatter teaches us.”
Lyra, who’s been looking around the room, points behind us and comments, “Hey, she must practice a lot too. She can do it.”
As one, we turn our heads to see a purple filly in the back corner, face scrunched up as she ignites her horn to turn the page of a surprisingly large book. Once the page drops to reveal the next, the filly beams and continues to read, eyes darting left to right and back again near instantly in an impressive cycle. I don’t think even I can read that fast.
“Hey, I think I know her,” Twinkleshine says, squinting.
“You do? I don’t remember her from Miss Torial’s class,” adds Minuette.
Just then, a yellow filly with a two-toned blue mane leans in and whispers something to the purple filly, smiling even when she only gets an uninterested shrug.
“Oh, I remember now!” Twinkleshine burst out, pointing a hoof. “That’s Lemon Heart! Her mom is friends with my Mom and I went to her birthday! The purple filly was there too.” Calming down some, she taps her chin. “She just sat in the corner then too and read until a grownup made her play pin the tail on the pony.”
Before anypony can comment on this, the filly in front of them, noticeably more rough than most with a shaggy yellow mane and unbrushed, fern-green coat, turns in her seat to look at the purple unicorn before narrowing her eyes in a glare. Though we’re too far away to hear over the din of the classroom, the sudden jolt from the reading filly followed by a hurt expression makes it clear that she wasn’t just complimented.
As Lemon Heart frowns and comes to the defense of her friend, Moondancer wiggles in her seat. “Um, s-should we go over there, or…?”
“Of course we should,” Lyra answers sharply, rising to her hooves. The rest of our little group moves to do the same, but we’re interrupted as Mr. Scatter clears his throat and calls out through his mask, “Okay class, I’m ready for the next lesson!”
As much as I want to go over and talk to the purple unicorn in the far back, sensing a kindred spirit for the written word, the teacher was too quick in starting the next exercise, moving swiftly throughout the classroom despite his pads and distributed quills to each foal, even me.
“Now, the first spell we are going to learn might seem simple, even mundane, but I assure you, there will be no more useful a spell taught than levitation. It’s something a unicorn uses dozens of times daily, and is surprisingly versatile.” Mr. Scatter explains, reaching the front of the class and spinning around to face us.
“It’s also great way to practice the pillars of mana use. Control, consistency, and concentration. Mastering these will make all spell casting easier in the future and are things any dedicated mage works to always improve on. But that's for the future, for now, you must actually perform the spell.”
The stallion proceeds to explain the inner workings of levitation, drawing simple diagrams on the black board behind him and answering the few questions from foals wanting to clear up their confusion now rather than fail later. I’m a part of that minority, asking more than half the questions and only stopping as I begin to get glares from the more impatient students. I may not intend to try the spell right now, but it’ll be useful to know for later when I practice with Dad and Bluey.
My brother probably can afford to skip that training session however, seeing as he picks the quill up with a bored expression and waits for further instruction. It looks like it’s going to be a while though as Mr. Scatter is once again going around the classroom and offering one-on-one assistance to each foal to get them over that first hurdle. It’s slow going as fillies and colts begin to get their feathers airborne, some managing to float them drunkenly around their heads while others do little more than toss them in the air in a burst of neon mana before letting them float gently down.
Each one is clearly proud of their achievements, happy faces shining with every success. Well, mostly, anyway. The ungroomed filly from near the back has her quill levitated high above her head as she sneers at the purple and yellow pair behind her, saying something that has the former cowed in her seat and the other caught between doing the same and still trying to meet her tormentor's gaze bravely.
Looking around, I see the teacher is preoccupied helping a particularly frustrated colt and my friends are all too focused on the exercise to notice the drama unfolding behind us. Fidgeting in indecision, I eventually stand up. There’s no point in distracting others from their work while I have none of my own, so I might as well do what I can to help out.
“Um, hello, is there a problem?" I ask, putting on my most calming smile.
It doesn’t seem to work as the ungroomed filly merely scowls at me. “No, I was just askin’ why this filly isn’t floating her quill yet. She’s showing off with that big book, so it should be easy, right?” This last part is directed back towards the purple filly, who hides behind her navy blue bangs.
“I-I wasn’t showing off,” she mumbles.
“Hey, why don’t you leave us alone!? Twilight hasn’t done anything to you!” Lemon Heart adds.
“I’m already floating my feather,” the filly retorts mockingly, “I was just trying to help her out. Mr. Scatter was saying it’s supposed ta be the easiest spell, right? So why aren’tcha doing it yet?”
“Maybe you just need to change the way you’re helping… I’m sorry, what’s your name again,” I interrupt.
The filly turns around and looks me up and down. “I’m Buttercup, and what would you know about helping? You don’t even have a feather.”
“Ah, well, I may not be able to levitate a quill just yet, but I was listening really closely when Mr. Scatter was explaining how it’s done. Maybe Twilight here just needs a refresher? I saw her turn the page of her book earlier, after all, so I’m sure she’ll get it easily.”
“If she did it once, she should do it now, unless she’s really stupid enough to forget already,” Buttercup counters, suddenly poking my nose with the sharp tip of her quill. “And what would you know when you just said you can’t do it. Are you stupid too?”
I stumble back a step, hoof flying to my muzzle and my eyes watering. There’s a small bead of blood on my hoof when I pull it away. “… You should just go back to ‘floating your feather’ now and stop picking on others,” I state flatly, my attempt at diplomacy over. “Or I’ll tell Mr. Scatter on you.”
“You’re a tattletale and stupid?” mocks the green filly before shrugging. “Whatever, I’ll leave her alone. See if I try to help the filly out again.” Finally turning fully around her seat, Buttercup leans on a hoof, posture bored save for the glare leveled at me.
I match the look with some heat of my own, before returning my attention to Twilight. The purple filly has sunk even deeper into her seat and Lemon Heart is leaning down to whisper in her ear. I try to think of something to say to cheer her up, but I'm interrupted when a voice calls out, “Pureblood, What are you doing over there? Return to your seat, please.”
Looking over, I see Mr. Scatter staring at me, head slightly tilted as he stands in front of a foal. The little one is visibly straining as he attempt to lift the quill higher, inching the thing little by little until it’s directly under his nose and tickling his right nostril. The sneeze that follows is accompanied by a spike of mana that propels his quill point-first into his teacher’s padded chest, embedding the feather up to the plume, getting quite a few turned heads and a shocked expression from behind Mr. Scatter’s mask.
I… better get back to my seat before I distract anypony else away from their surprisingly dangerous spell practice. The sea of bobbing quills on the way back are far more ominous than they have any right to be.
Ornate just finished greeting the fellow parents of their little group as they arrived when the doors to the kindergarten opened and foals rushed out. In truth, she was a little anxious about her daughter having still gone even after learning the repercussions of her using magic, but she was still more confident than yesterday.
Seeing the filly fully alert with her friends did wonders in alleviating the rest of her worries, and she even noticed a new addition to the little entourage. “Hello there, little ones,” she greeted, placing a hoof on her son’s mane as he trotted up to her after saying his goodbyes to his colt pals. “I see you’ve made another new friend.”
“Yeah, this is Lemon Heart,” Pure answered with a smile and nod towards the yellow filly, who chirped a quick greeting. “She ate lunch with us, along with her friend.” At this, her daughter looked over her shoulder, smile fading a little in confusion before turning around. “Twilight?”
Coming out at a notably slower pace than the other foals was a purple filly, head tilted down. She didn't seem to take much notice of Pure or the other foals around her, and Ornate felt a little worried. Twilight brightened up quickly, however, when a young voice called out her name. The filly’s head sprang up before she dashed towards a white colt, probably nearing the double digits in age and what must have been his mother beside him.
While Twilight squeezed herself to the young colt’s neck and whimpered, Pureblood sighed. “Guess she’s still upset about Buttercup.”
“Who’s that?” Ornate found herself asking, looking at her daughter’s new friend sadly. She didn’t know what happened to her, but it must not have been nice to have her in silent tears like that. As the mother and son were quick to hurry away with the little one, Pure turned her head and glared at a green filly.
“Buttercup is a bully who was picking on Twilight because she was having trouble with the levitation spell today. She was being really mean.” As Pure explained this, Ornate noticed something oddly familiar about Buttercup’s mother, but couldn’t quite place a hoof on it until the mare looked up.
As if sensing the eyes on her, the mother turned her own eyes, heavy with bags and half hidden behind a few loose strands of mane from her sloppy bun, to meet Ornate’s. Daisy Care, Ornate realized, the maid her husband had fired shortly after the birth of the twins. Judging by the narrowed glare that quickly formed on the mare’s face, she recognized Ornate as well.
As Daisy turned away, ushering her daughter impatiently to do the same, Ornate felt a pit in her stomach. Something tells me she hasn’t forgiven us for letting her go, Ornate thought with a sigh. Her husband had an I-told-you-so coming when they got home.
“Take it easy, Pure, you don’t want to go overboard,” Dad says as I huff and puff on shaky legs. The wonderment from when I first summoned forth my magic has long since faded, replaced instead with frustration.
“I know, but I can do this,” I answer once I catch my breath, sending a glare at the innocuous quill lying on the ground, or, as I’ve come to know it, the heaviest darn feather on the planet. I swear the thing is mocking me, sitting atop the blades of grass and not bending one, only to increase its weight to that of a boulder when I try to lift it. I bet it’s in cahoots with Buttercup and the two are laughing their heads off...
Of course I know none of this is true, but it helps lessen the sting of shame to shift the blame elsewhere as I struggle with what should be a simple task. Bluey is off to the side at this very moment, drawing with a quill and ink to improve his fine control, and yet I can barely get one end of my own quill off the ground. It’s the first weekend of magic kindergarten, the class having gone over multiple exercises involving a simple quill, and I want to catch up to them by Monday. It’s infuriating then that I’m stuck at step one.
“Just relax, sweetie, you’ll get it, but not while you're upset and exhausted,” Dad tries, motioning towards the house. “Hey, how about we go inside and have a little snack break? I’m sure your mom will be glad to let you have a cookie after all the hard work you’ve put in.”
“Not yet,” I retort, glaring at my target as I once again summon forth my magic. The shallow pool that makes up my mana reserves has little left to give, but my horn still glows dimly and a flickering aura surrounds the feather. I try with all my might, fighting the urge to squeeze my eyes shut as I watch he quill begin to wiggle. My skull throbs and spots swarm in my peripherals, but I refuse to give up now.
I.
Will.
Lift.
This.
Feather!
“Sh- -hou-d -- fin- -he ju-- -eed –est.”
“--- you --ure? Wh-- about -er…”
Ugh, my head is killing me. Did I hit it during a sparring match or something? No, that doesn’t sound right, but what happened then?
Let’s see, I was… practicing magic, I think. Dad was watching me and Bluey was off to the side. And there was a stupid feather that was glued to the ground, and I was trying to pick it up…
“Did I get it!?” I blurt out, eyes snapping open as I try to spring to my hooves, only to be overwhelmed by dizziness and stumble. My heart skips a beat as I step over a ledge and begin to feel weightless for a terrifying second before a hoof catches me across the chest.
“Pure!” Dad exclaims, quickly pushing me back onto my bottom while my head swims. “You’re awake, how do you feel?”
“Like everything is spinning,” I answer truthfully, blinking rapidly as I take in my surroundings. At the sight of white walls and the feel of paper beneath my flank, my throat goes dry. “Why… am I at the hospital?”
“We were worried,” Mom began, coming up beside Dad to fret over me. “After you fainted, nothing we did could wake you up, so we left Blueblood with your grandfather and brought you here.”
“I’ll admit it was a surprise to have you visit again so soon, and even more so to find you suffering from magical exhaustion. It’s not a condition often associated with foals, but I suppose I should have seen this coming,” Dr. Mend comments, putting away his stethoscope. “Still though, it’s good to know you’ve managed to express your magic, even if only just. Silver lining, I suppose.”
Mom frowns. “Yes, well I’d prefer if these revelations didn’t come at the expense of my daughter’s health.”
“Oh, her health is just fine, relatively speaking. As I was saying, a proper meal and some rest will have her right as rain by tomorrow morning.” Dr. Mend explains this with a light smile before taking on a pondering expression. “Though, your mention of revelations has me thinking, this might actually be a good opportunity for another test on mageiasthenia. If you’ll permit it, we can keep Pureblood overnight and measure her rate of mana regeneration to discover if and how her condition affects it.”
“I don’t know,” Mom begins, and I instantly agree with her. “Today’s already been stressful for her, so I’m sure she just wants to rest in peace.”
“But it’s a golden opportunity,” the doctor tries, “I assure you, she’ll be perfectly safe, and you can even stay the night with her. I’m sure I can get standard visitation hours waved for this.”
“Listen, doctor,” Dad says, “I think the pony that should be asked here isn’t my wife or I, but our daughter.” Turning to me, he asks, “So what do you think, Pure, would you be okay with staying the night? We can even go get your brother and bring him up to stay with you if that’d make you feel better, but it’s your choice.”
Gulping, I think it over. I know logically that this could be important, that for as much as doctor’s appointments freak me out, they’re essential for my health, but the thought of actually staying overnight is magnitudes more unsettling. I’ve not spent more than a few hours a visit in a hospital since the start of my new life, and I’d rather keep it that way. Waking up in the dark of a hospital room is an aspect of my old life I don’t want to experience again.
“… I want to go home.”
“Well, there you have it,” Dad states, scooping me into the crook of his foreleg. “Sorry Dr. Mend, but I’m afraid we’ll be taking our leave now.”
I continue to avoid the disappointed gaze of the lab coat clad stallion as he sighs, but yields, and we leave the building. My eyes drift shut by our first step outside.
When the three arrived home, it was to an anxious colt pawing at his father’s leg, trying to see for himself if his sister was okay. “She’s fine, she’s fine. Calm yourself,” the elder Blueblood said, attempting to get his son to settle down. “Don’t make me drop her.”
The remark seemed to have worked as the colt backed away from the door to let his parents through before he asked again, “Are you sure? Should I get her a juice box? Is she sleeping still? Maybe a cookie will wake her up. She always wakes up for cookies.”
“Yes, we’re sure, and yes she’s sleeping,” Ornate explained. “But she woke up while we were at the doctor’s office and he told her sleep is exactly what she needs. So we’re going to put her in her room, and I’m going to start a big meal for when she wakes up.”
“Will lotsa food help?” Bluey asked with a tilt of his head.
“Dr. Mend thinks so.”
“Then I want to help!” At the colt’s declaration, the parents smiled at each other and the mother led him to the kitchen indulgently. It would get messy, but it would also help ease the young one’s mind. When Pure collapsed, little Blueblood quickly went to her side, curious at first and gently trying to wake her up before losing all composure. His cries had most of the adults on the estate in the garden in time to see the master of the house take off, wife and daughter in tow and only a few parting words to his father.
“Little tyke’s fast. Practically disappeared on me as soon as he heard you all were back.” Stalwart Shield commented, looking over his son’s shoulder at the retreating forms of Ornate and her colt. “Training’s paying off.”
“Dad,” Blueblood said in acknowledgment, turning around. “You didn’t have any trouble, did you? I know you were out drinking with your friends last night and were sleeping it off.”
“Bah, I was perfectly fine. Soldiers like me don’t get hangovers,” the older stallion answered. “And the lad was fine. Worried as all Tartarus, but behaved himself… How is she, by the way?”
Blueblood breathed a sigh and looked at the sleeping filly on his back. “Magical exhaustion, but she’ll recover. I’m more worried about her training in the future right now. What am I supposed to do if she wants to continue it? I’m no doctor, but suffering exhaustion like that on a regular basis can’t be good for a growing foal.”
“Well, you’ll just have to start out smaller,” proposed Stalwart. “It’s fundamental in all training, after all. You start out small and work your way up.”
“I don’t know how much smaller we can get here. She knocked herself out trying to levitate a feather,” Blueblood countered.
"Yeah… that does sound like a problem.” The military stallion scratched his short beard before shrugging with one final suggestion. “Smaller feathers?”
The glare shot Shield’s way had very little heat even before Blueblood sighed and sagged a little. “I’ll send one of the servants out to pick up a goose down pillow and see if she has an easier time.” The younger father started walking, his elder following suit. “This certainly won’t help with her other issue though. Her self-esteem’s already been suffering.”
“The bully?” Stalwart inquired.
“In part, yes. That Buttercup filly has made more than a few snide remarks the last few days of school, from what my son has told me, and even if Pure insists she doesn’t care, I can tell it’s getting to her.”
“She should just buck the brat like she did with Bronze Pauldron,” Stalwart contributed, expression becoming defensive at the dry look from his son. “What? It worked, didn’t it? Stopped the bullying and got her a good sparring partner and friend.”
“Yes, because that’s the usual outcome from violence,” Blueblood deadpanned. “Tell me, Dad, how many of the crooks you pummeled and sent to the dungeons are you now friends with?”
“Hey, Iron Bars happens to be one of my best drinking buddies!” At the flat look, he harrumphed. “Okay, fine, I see your point, but it’s not like talking to the teacher’s helped at all.”
“I’m sure he’ll sort things out soon enough. The second week hasn’t even begun yet,” Blueblood answered with confidence he did not have. In truth, he felt Mr. Scatter should have put an end to this Buttercup filly’s harassment as soon as Ornate informed him of such, but no such luck apparently.
“You think the mother’s putting her up to it?” Stalwart asked with a frown. “As much as I’d like to believe the mare wouldn’t have her own daughter act on her grudges, I’ve seen parents do worse.”
“Ornate seems to think it’s a possibility,” Blueblood answered. “It would be petty to say the least if she is.”
“More like despicable. If it is true, I pity the foal. Who knows what else a parent like that would put their child through.” The older stallion frowned deeply. “Borderline abusive.”
“Well, it’s all speculation at this point, and I don’t see the question being answered anytime soon.” The two stopped outside Pureblood’s bedroom and Blueblood began to shift the filly from his back and into his foreleg.
“Here, let me help,” Stalwart said, moving to keep his granddaughter steady. “Oh, hey there, little one, sorry if I woke you.”
The foal did indeed have her eyes half open, expression dull as she settled into her father’s hold. “S’alright,” she mumbled.
“You feeling alright, Pure? We can go see your mom and brother if you want,” Blueblood offered, ready to turn around and go to the kitchen.
Surprisingly, she shook her head. “No, I just want to go to sleep now.”
Though he found it odd, the father didn’t argue and entered the bedroom, tucking his filly in and placing a kiss on her forehead while Shield waited by the door. “Sleep easy, Pure. I’ll come and get you when the food is ready. Your brother is working hard to help Mom just for you.”
She smiled a little, but it faded with exhaustion as her eyes began to shut. “He’s nice like that,” she muttered, getting a nod in agreement and smile from her dad as he got up to leave. Just as he was about to exit she asked in a drowsy voice, barely more than a whisper, “Do you really think the goose down will help?”
“J-just one more set,” I tell Dad as he looks on, worried. “I’ve got this.” The downy feather rises shakily from the ground, a pale pink aura flickering around it, and stops at eye level before lowering gently down. As the exhaustion sets in, I’m tempted to drop it, but I force myself to maintain control as it descends, and repeat the process nine more times.
With a massive puff of air, I collapse, joining the downy feather on the grass as I try and catch my breath. Soon, Dad is at my side and the spots begin to fade from my vision, “Are you okay, Pure? Do you need some water?”
“Yes… Please…” I wheeze, rolling on my side and laying my head down while Dad moves to pour me a glass of ice cold water from a silver pitcher. While he does so, Bluey lowers his face next to mine, smiling broadly.
“That was great, Pure! You’ll have the regular feather up in no time!” It’s kind of cute, his determination to encourage me. After the fright I gave everypony a couple of days ago, he’s been much more attentive during my exercises, though I think it’s mostly just worry that I’ll have a repeat of that incident and he’s keeping a close eye on me. I’ve seen Mom peeking out the window multiple times doing the same thing.
“Thanks,” I say, both to my brother for the praise and to Dad as he sets the water down next to me. With some effort, I sit up and reach for the glass. My forehooves shake a little and I splash the grass some, but I eventually get the cup to my lips and down half of its contents in a few gulps.
“I’d say that was quite the successful training session,” Dad says with a small, but pleased smile. “Five sets is a good starting point. I’m proud of you.”
I smile in return and move to stand, Bluey quickly making to help. “You know, you didn’t have to watch me, Blue,” I comment once I'm on all four hooves and feeling steady enough to stand without leaning on him. Though the physical fatigue is quickly fading, I can still feel an odd emptiness inside that I now know is my depleted magic. It’s kind of chilly, and I can feel the magic of others more acutely against my horn.
“It's fine,” he answers.
“But Table Flip invited you over after school, right? You could have hung out with him instead of here in the garden.”
“Eh, I got some more practice. That’s always good, right?”
Not when you barely focused on your own exercises and instead watched me like a hawk. I hold back a sigh and tell him thanks, but it is a little frustrating. It’s only Monday of the second week, and I fear I may not be the only one who ends up magically burnt out. It made sense for me to practice after school since I didn’t do so during class, but Bluey practiced then and now. He was supposed to be skipping the weekday sessions because of this, but I guess plans have changed.
“If you’re still feeling up to it you two, Grandma Golden and Grandpa Rouser will be stopping by today, and I know they’re eager to take you to their theatre house for a tour.”
I can feel my second wind filling me as Dad finishes, and I nod excitedly. “Of course! I can’t wait to see Granny and Grampy again, right Bluey?”
“The theatre might be kinda fun,” he answers hesitantly before smiling a little wider. “But Granny and Grampy are for sure fun! You think they’ll take us out to ice cream like that one time?”
“Mhmm! I can taste the hot fudge brownie now.”
“And the banana split!”
“Just don’t let your mother know how much ice-cream they actually get you,” Dad says with a chuckle. “If she asks, just tell her you each got a cone so she doesn’t know you’ve spoiled your appetite.”
At this, both my brother and I share a look before turning our serious gaze to him. “Our lips are sealed. Sweet secrets are to the grave.”
Once Dad had finally stopped laughing, we all made our way inside and Mom ended up telling some funny stories from her own foalhood. She and her big brother got up to some pretty zany things when they were younger, the theatre serving as the perfect playground for their shenanigans growing up.
She’s in the middle of regaling us of Uncle Sunlight trying to court a performer nearly twice his age and bungling it up when a servant comes in leading two older ponies. “Granny, Grampy!” Bluey shouts, up in a flash and across the room before the rest of us are even on our hooves.
“Hey there, champ!” Grampy says, picking the colt up and nuzzling his mane. “Sorry it’s been so long, we had a big performance at the theatre to prepare for.”
“Opening night was a big success though, and with it, the company doesn’t need Revel micro managing anymore,” Granny finishes, moving to her husband’s side to get her own nuzzles in. “So we can spend plenty of time with the two best foals in the world.”
“I don’t know what that all means, but yay!” Bluey wiggles free from Grampy’s hold and lands with a stumble before running to my side. I'm walking at a leisurely pace to greet my grandparents, not quite back up one-hundred percent after training, when my brother practically burrows his head under my side so that I am leaning on him. “Pure’s really excited to see the theatre, so let’s go!”
"Calm yourself, son,” Dad says, coming up from behind us. “I’m sure Golden and Revel would like to sit down a moment before heading out.”
“Well, if they’re really that eager, we could head out now,” Grampy muses, watching as Blueblood carries me to the door. It was kind of embarrassing, but I knew he was just trying to help. “You want them back by eight at the latest, right? Going now means we have more daylight to spend together.”
Mom sighs good naturally. “I suppose, though I was hoping we could have lunch before they left. They’ve had nothing but snacks since breakfast.”
“Oh, that’s nothing to worry about, dear.” Granny response. “I’m sure we can stop and pick them up something on the way.”
Bluey and I share a smile. It sounds like a plan to me.
“I can’t believe you actually finished that,” Golden Garden comments, looking back at me while I can only look on contentedly from atop her back, a stomach full of decadent chocolate confection radiating warmth to my whole body. Mister Scoop's Ice Cream parlor made a mean brownie, and the size of my head, too. What a bargain.
“Pure can always eat more cake,” Bluey comments, stopping a moment to levitate a jelly bean to his mouth from the pouch in his hoof. As much as he’s progressed with his magic, he can’t walk on three legs and use magic at the same time yet. It’s still pretty impressive though. “Aunty would be proud.”
“I’m proud!” Grampy exclaims with hearty guffaw. “Did you see the look on the mare’s face when Pureblood ordered that monster? Priceless! I don’t think even the best actors I know could pull off such an expression.”
“Yes, well, if we don’t want our daughter to give the same, we should probably just tell her we got a couple ice cream cones. The amount that mare worries…” Granny trails off with a shake of the head and a wry smile.
“New mothers are always like that with their first foals. I remember you were just the same with Sunlight. The boy scraped a knee and you’d have an entire team of surgeons prepped in the ICU waiting to bandage it.” The brown stallion gives his wife a dry look. “They were not amused…”
"Oh, hush you!” Golden chides, bumping into his shoulder. “So I panicked a little, sue me. With all that blood, who wouldn’t?”
“Let’s just make sure we don’t have a repeat today. I don’t think Ornate would let her foals out of the house ever again if she got called to the emergency room.”
Granny rolls her eyes before pointing her nose forward. “And you say we mothers worry too much. Look, we’re already here.”
At this, I perk up to look around my grandmother’s neck, spotting a large building, shining like new, yet with an air of history that made it stand out from the structures around it. It wasn’t just the size, but the architecture itself that set it apart.
Where most buildings in Canterlot were tall and slender, offering little floor space for each of its several layers, this one was wide and appearing to only have two floors, if the row of windows near the top were any indication. The lower half lacks any glass, yet is noticeably taller than its second floor.
“Beautiful, isn’t she? The Canterhorn Theatre House has stood here nearly as long as the city itself. Even before Princess Celestia made this place the new capital, in fact,” Grampy explains with pride.
“It’s big,” Bluey comments with a small amount of awe, and I agree. It may not be the tallest building in the city, but it's still one of the biggest. I’d guess only the royal palace is larger.
“Much to the chagrin of our neighbors,” Granny says with a small sigh. “Space on a mountain is valuable and the Theatre takes up a lot of it.” She shakes her head. “But that’s neither here nor there, let’s get inside.”
While I was a bit curious about the statement, It’s largely forgotten when we enter. If the outside was impressive, the inside is even more so. Fine red velvet lines the entry hall, sending a shiver up my spine as I am set down and feel the softness under my hooves. The walls are a warm cream color with gold motifs and shining chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to bathe it all in a inviting glow.
“Wow,” I breathe. “It’s so pretty.”
“Class never goes out of style,” Grampy agrees with a nod. “And this is only the front. Wait until you actually see the auditorium.”
I’m definitely eager now as I trot to the head of the group, head whipping this way and that to take in all of opulence around me. Passing the empty ticket booth, I even poke my head inside to make sure I don’t miss anything.
I’ve understood for a while now that my new family is wealthy on both my parents' sides, but I’m still shocked to see something so magnificent and know it belongs to the goofy grandparents who crack jokes and sneak us treats whenever they can get away with it. This place looks like it should be run by a stuffy, stony-faced stallion, not somepony as silly as Grandpa Revel.
This thought is compounded when we enter the biggest room I’ve ever seen in either life. Rows upon rows of velvet-lined seats sat before a curtain-clad stage, the wood polished to a mirror finish that reflects the lights of the chandeliers above like stars upon its dark surface. The walls are lined with large paintings of mares in flowing robes and stallions in shining armor.
“It’s beautiful.” It’s an understatement, but true.
“Yep, janitor was just through here an hour ago making sure everything’s spick and span for the show tonight. That stallion really takes his job seriously,” a voice answers from behind us.
A pink mare with a blue mane is leaning against the entryway frame, a small smile on her lips. “How’s it going, Pure? Keeping your brother in line, I hope.”
While Bluey protests to that, I can only smile wide and shout, “Class!” and run to the mare, wrapping one of her front legs in a hug. “What are you doing here?”
Class Act raises an eyebrow. “I’m an actress, squirt, I kinda work here. If anything, I should be asking you that.”
“Their parents let us have them until sunset, so we decided to bring them here to show them what we do,” Granny explains, followed by Grampy tilting his head.
“What are you doing exactly? And where’s the others? I figured you’d all be doing some rehearsal before tonight’s show.”
“We are, we’re just taking a break and I decided to get some air, then I saw you all coming from down the street so I came back in. Most of the others are upstairs.”
“And the bluebird problem? Has that been resolved?” Grampy asks, to which Class simply shrugs.
“Not much of a problem, but the stagehooves are still working on it. Most we can hope for is that they’re more careful, or that the audience doesn’t notice if they mess up again.”
“What’re you talking about?” I pipe up curiously, mind going to the show that was supposed to have happened last night. “Did something go wrong during the play?”
“Just a slight technical problem,” Granny says, getting a smirk from the younger mare.
“During one of the scenes, bluebirds are supposed to circle the leads while they spin, but some of the prop birds that hung down from above tangled together and nearly tripped up the dancers. Double Tap managed to save face though and turned the fall into a dip, so it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? Here at Canterhorn Theatre, every show is flawless!” blusters Grampy, looking ready to go on a rant before his wife shushes him.
“Why not just make birds outta magic?” Bluey suddenly questions, a spark of interest showing through his boredom. Despite attempts to change his mind, the colt still finds the performing arts underwhelming.
“What, like illusions?” Class Act quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t think Fogger is up to that, and I doubt we could get an FX specialist willing to come all the way here from Applewood to work the stage.”
“Wha-?” is Blueblood’s response, and I can’t help but agree.
“Hyper-realistic illusion magic is very complicated,” Granny cuts in. “Far beyond most unicorns and quite exhaustive from what I’ve heard, so it’s better suited for the big screen where the casters only have to perform the effects once to be recorded.”
While my brother is still a little lost if his expression is anything to go by, I understand at least the gist of the explanation. Really, I’m more shocked to learn there are movies here. Who knew?
Grampy scuffs. “Bah! Moving pictures are just a fad, they’ll fade out of style soon enough. Nothing but canned drama, I tell you. Real ponies on stage, that’s what audiences want to see!”
“Yes, yes, we know,” interrupts Granny before her husband can continue his tirade. “You’ve been saying that for years, but right now we have a couple of foals who I’m sure would love to meet the actors. They’re upstairs, yes?”
This last bit is directed at Class Act who nods, and our little group begins the trek to the second floor, a surly and grumbling brown stallion in tow.
Pureblood hit it off splendidly with the rest of Canterhorn Theatre’s crew, though a large part probably had to do with her tolerance for cheek pinching and cooing sounds while a couple of the actresses fawned over the adorable pair. Little Blueblood quickly grew tired of it as he vainly attempted to swat the hooves away and eventually slipped away to talk to Fogger and the other stagehooves who sat in the corner, huddled over a box of props.
“Oh, you’ll be a star for sure,” one mare gushed, hooves on her cheeks. “I can tell just by looking at you.”
“So adorable, she’d fill the seats now if she went out on stage,” another agreed, pulling a brush from somewhere and running it through the filly’s mane.
“Of course she’ll be a hit!” Revel Rouser announced. “Our little princess is going to give Celestia a run for her bits for most recognized face in Equestria.”
“Oh? Are you going to push her into the film industry,” a stallion teased with a knowing smirk. “The industries been booming, after all.”
“Never!” While Revel bellowed his non-too-flattering views of cinema, the stallion that brought the subject up got a few hard elbows and glares while he chuckled.
No longer the center of attention, Pureblood slipped away to join her brother in listening to the backstage ponies. “Yeah, we’ve used puppets plenty,” Fogger, a dull black unicorn stallion with a smoke-grey mane was saying, “They’re useful for your non-pony characters, like the time the heroes fought an ice golem. That was a complicated marionette, but we managed, so you wouldn’t think a couple dozen bluebirds on strings would be hard to control.” At this, the stallion narrows his eyes at the box before him, giving it a light kick. “Which is why we didn’t give much thought on practicing our coordination.”
Bluey looked into the box before lighting his horn and dragging a wooden ball from it. Attached to that was a long, thin, translucent strand which ended in an exquisitely carved bluebird. “So you hang ‘em down like this,” he asked, trying to lift the bird off the floor, but not managing enough height.
A steel-grey aura overtook the colt’s blue one and levitated the ball to the ceiling, taking the bluebird airborne. “Yep,” he confirmed with a short nod. “Me and Cookie Smoke are up on the rafters controlling them. Problem is there’s no stability with just one string, so they sway a lot, and if we aren’t careful, they tangle together. We’ve been working on the routine all day though, so hopefully we’ll have it down pat by tonight.”
“Why not just float the bird instead of the ball so there won’t be strings? That’s easier, right?”
Fogger chuckled at the colt's question. “It would be, but then the audience would see the magic glow, which kinda breaks the immersion. It’s why we keep magic up above where ponies can't see.”
“Can you do it without the glow, though?” Pureblood wondered aloud, tilting her head. “When I practice levitation, the glow flickers sometimes when I start to get tired, like it’s not even there for an instant, but I don’t drop the feather… Most of the time, anyway.”
At this, the stallion actually takes on a thoughtful expression. “Huh, guess I never really thought of it that way, but I don’t think that’s something any of the stagehooves can do. Making lights and fog and stuff is what we usually use our magic for, so doing the opposite and having our magic not be seen on stage would be difficult to say the least.
“I’m guessing that takes a lot of magic control, too, picking up something with just enough magic to not drop it…” At this, Fogger’s eyes narrowed in concentration as he focused on the ball still gripped in his magic. Slowly, the aura faded from both ball and his horn, and the stallion’s tongue poked out of the side of his mouth. As the aura sluggishly dimmed more and more, small beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and he began to hold his breath.
Despite his best efforts though, the aura flickered out completely before it was much less than half gone and the ball and bird tumbled to the hardwood with a clatter. Releasing the air from his lungs in a puff, Fogger hunched slightly and said, “Nope, that ain’t gonna happen. A good idea in theory, kid, but it’d take some serious control to manage levitation without showing an aura. Feels like trying to thread a needle with a rope; too much magic for something so small.”
“You figuring things out for the show tonight, Fogger?” Revel Rouser questioned as he approached his grandfoals, his rant from before finally over. “Stringer sent a letter saying she’d be back in Canterlot by tomorrow night, but that still leaves one, maybe two shows without her running the birds.”
“We should be able to manage, boss,” Fogger responded. “If anything, we’ll just make sure to space them further apart and maybe use a few less birds until we have her up there with us. But we still got some time left to practice, so who knows? Maybe we’ll have it down before tonight.”
“Hopefully you do,” Revel said with a nod. “I like for all of our shows to be the best that they can, and that includes perfection in even the smallest details.”
“Hey, Pure, you alright?” Blueblood’s question attracted the attention of the adults to the little filly staring at the grounded bird with an unreadable expression.
“Yeah,” she answered distractedly, finally looking away from the one-string puppet to the special effects pony. “You said that levitation without the glow uses less magic?”
“Uh, yeah, and more concentration,” was the confused reply.
“That’s… interesting.” Pureblood still looked deep in thought, and her grandfather could only wonder what had her so occupied. Perhaps she just found a new interest in special effects? The thought brought a jolt of excitement to the aging stallion. It would be backstage instead of in front like he imagined, but the idea of having one of his grandfoals joining in the family business was a happy one.
Maybe he could get little Blueblood into directing; the colt had the air of a leader, after all. It’d be a perfect fit and a dream come true for Revel Rouser.
It’s time for practice during Tuesday’s class and the rest of the students have moved onto spelling their names with their quills, the last one graduating the first lesson a few minutes after practice started. Blueblood and a few other foals are on the third lesson, Mr. Scatter having seen they were ready.
I’m left out again, but instead of reading like usual, I’m observing the others, though not exclusively with my eyes. Boredom breeding creativity, I’ve decided to see how many distinctions I can make between the magic of the many different foals. Bluey’s is the most prominent to my pseudo-sense, followed closely by Moondancer and my other friends, but I’m starting to pick out other little nuances between the foals.
Twilight, for instance, is very strange. Her magic feels, for lack of a better description, feather light, yet unmovable, like a boulder suspended just over my horn, barely tickling it.
Buttercup’s magic, on the other hand, is sort of the opposite. There’s not a lot of heft to it, but she bounces it around the room like high-grade rubber whenever she makes a move with her two quills. Maybe that’s why she takes breaks more than the other foals? Bluey was doing the same exercise, after all, but his magic was much more contained around his quills, only radiating slowly as he moved them about.
“Why aren’t you reading, Pure? Is something bothering you?” Mr. Scatter asks, getting my eyes to snap open. At some point they must have drifted shut so I could better focus on my magic observations. Guess it’s not a perfect replacement for sight, though, seeing how I completely missed the teacher’s approach.
“No,” I answer, sitting up straighter, “I was just… thinking.”
Remembering yesterday, I perk up. “Oh! But I was hoping to talk to you about something. I think maybe I’ve found a better way for me to do magic, and I wanted to know if you could help me.”
“Really, what’s the method?” the stallion asks, sounding genuinely curious rather than condescending, like I sort of expected. He is a perfectly nice teacher, but I’m just a foal, so I thought maybe he was going to dismiss me straight away.
Surprised, but pleased, I begin to explain my experience at my grandparents' theatre, focusing on the magic used and the interesting, if failed, demonstration by Fogger. Mr. Scatter rubs his chin ponderously.
“Ah, that’s an astute observation, and very clever idea you have there,” he says finally, placing his hoof on the ground and giving me a smile. “I’m ashamed the thought never occurred to me before, especially because the theory behind it has floated around magic circles for ages.”
My ear twitches at that. “Really? Has it been done before? Can you teach me? Is there a book on it?”
“Calm down, calm down.” Mr. Scatter chuckles as he gestures for me to sit, as I had placed my hooves on the desk to stand in my excitement. I do so a little sheepishly when I realize some of the closer foals are giving me looks. “Now, from what I recall, It’s always been a point of debate whether or not it’s possible to cast a spell with absolute efficiency, though ponies on both sides at least agree it’s technically possible. The real question is if a pony could actually master their magic to the point where they could pull it off.
“There are different kinds of spells out there, though they all fall under two branching categories. The shapeless spells, such as levitation, low-level shields, or the basic offensive spell, magic missiles, are performed by manipulating one's mana in its purest form.
“This is different than the branch of structure. See, while the shapeless arts allow you to interact with the physical world directly with your mana, structured magic requires a go-between in the form of a spell matrix. Now, a matrix is what the laypony probably thinks of when they hear the word spellcraft, and can be compared to the modern day mana engine.
“Just as the engine converts raw mana from storage crystals into kinetic, electric, or even heat energy, the spell matrix can refine the caster's mana into a more complex state, allowing for a much wider variety of results than mere shapeless spells can produce. It can also be more efficient, as well.
“For instance, an anti-gravity spell requires less mana to lift a heavy object than base levitation, similar to how a pulley system makes lifting heavy loads easier than if you were trying to do so directly. This is actually quite an apt comparison, as it also highlights the disadvantage to structured magic, which is the set up.
“Just as you’d have to take time and energy to configure a pulley system, structured spells require the caster to create a spell matrix before they can cast the spell.”
“Uhhh… What’re you talking about?” Minuette interrupts with a flummoxed, slightly dull gaze.
The impromptu lecture was actually so interesting that I didn’t even notice the growing attention Mr. Scatter was getting from confused foals, and judging by the nervous chuckle from the stallion, he hadn’t either. “I’m… sorry. I get carried away sometimes.”
“Oh, okay, I thought maybe we were doing nap time and you were reading a really weird bedtime story,” Minuette chirps, energy returning as she levitates her quill. “Hey I think I’m ready for another feather, Mr. Scatter!”
“Oh? Show me your progress, and we’ll see,” says the teacher before looking back at me. “I’m sorry, Pure, but if you’d like, we can discuss this more during lunch. I’ll try not to let myself get sidetracked again.”
“That’s fine,” I answer, “And I thought the stuff about how spells work was really neat.”
“Suck up,” a voice calls from behind, poorly disguised as a cough. I turn and send a glare towards Buttercup, who, in turn, acts totally focused on her quills.
Returning my attention to Mr. Scatter, I see he’s already moved onto helping Minuette, and I can’t help but feel a little agitated. Did he seriously not hear that? Buttercup wasn’t exactly quiet. The scowl on Lemon Heart’s face shows that she heard it too, and Twilight is sunk into her seat, trying to hide behind her single quill.
With a sigh, I open my book and settle down for some reading until lunch. At least my Mr. Scatter is good at teaching, even if he is a little scatter-brained…
“Ah, Pure, I’m glad you decided to come finish our discussion,” Mr. Scatter comments as I come around his desk.
“Of course, you were telling me about whether or not a unicorn can do magic without wasting magic and what made it hard.”
“Ah yes, I was getting to that, or I’d at least have made it there eventually,” Mr. Scatter says with a chuckle. “Where was I though?”
“I think you were saying that structured magic was like pulleys,” I offer, getting a spark of recognition to appear in the stallion’s eyes.
“Yes, that’s right, structured spells require setup before casting, and no small amount of concentration when compared to the shapeless arts. An experienced caster can make the process seem instant, but it’s something all young unicorns struggle with at first.
“But I suppose that is a topic for later. Right now, you want to know how to perform efficient magic, yes?”
I nod excitedly, and Mr. Scatter continues. “Well, if I weren’t a teacher, I’d probably just say something like you need to have perfect control of your magic to do perfect magic, but it’s what you need the perfection for that’s important. And it’s different for both branches.
“For shapeless magic, we unicorns instinctively do something that, while useful, is also quite wasteful, and that is called form insurance.” He picks a cup up from his table and gestures at the aura. “You see this, the thick glow now holding my cup? Well, the truth is, it’s not holding my cup at all. Beneath this blob of mana, there is a thin but strong coating that’s holding the weight.
“This coating has a property comparable to water, however, in that, just like a thin layer of water, it is apt to evaporate with exposure. That is what the glow is for, a mere covering to protect the precious, load-bearing coat. Without a layer of raw aether, that’s mana in a nebulous state, covering it, the solid magic beneath would disintegrate. In continuation with the water metaphor, I suppose you can say this aether works as a pocket of high humidity atop a sheen of water, preventing evaporation from occurring.
“But as you can see here, that pocket is quite large when compared to the paper thin layer of mana it’s protecting, so why not pull it back some?” He begins to demonstrate and the aura shrinks, continuing to do so until the cup falls into his waiting hoof. “And therein lies the problem.”
“What happened?” I ask, tilting my head. If I understand this correctly, all he’d have to do is not take the aether away completely, and he would still be able to hold the cup.
“What happened is the undulating form that aether wishes to take creates dips and bulges, the former of which let a small part of the solidified mana holding the cup come into contact with the non-magic environment, which in turn caused a catastrophic breakdown of the entire hold from that point. Think of it as how a balloon rips apart in response to a single pin prick.
“That's where the perfect control comes into play.” Grasping the cup once again in his magic, Mr. Scatter narrows his eyes in focus, and the roiling aura begins to calm, though never completely stop. “If you can get your aether under control, then you can begin to leech it away without fear.” The aura begins to shrink again; going past the point where it failed before. “So, in theory, if you can make it perfectly still, you can remove all but the minimum amount of aether needed to cover the working mana beneath.”
At that moment, the cup falls once again, and Mr. Scatter sighs. “Ah, it’s worth noting this failure was up here.” He points at his horn. “I neglected to mention it, but around your horn is a similar solidification of mana when casting spells which serves as a conduit between your inner reserves and the world around you, and just like how the one around the cup needed a protective layer of aether, so too does your horn.”
This was starting to sound quite difficult. “So, is it even worth it in the end?” I find myself questioning. “How much magic does it save with no glow?”
“Well, for shapeless magic, it varies,” he begins, “The amount of working mana tends to increase much faster than the amount of mana used to maintain an aether, so for picking up small things, like my cup, removing the bulk of the aether probably reduces the cost by close to half. Double the cup's size however, and comparatively the aether would only account for maybe a quarter of the levitation’s mana cost. These numbers aren’t exact, though I hope you understand the point I’m trying to make.”
“I think so, like, the smaller the thing you’re trying to do with magic, the more wasteful the aether is, and the bigger the thing, the less it matters,” I answer with a sigh. Well, it looks like perfect control isn’t going to be my key to casting big spells like the stuff Bluey could do when he was surging.
The teacher nods approvingly. “Very good, though this isn’t quite as true for structured magic.” My interest renews, eager once again as he explains. “Now we’re getting into some more complex discussions, but I think you’ll be able to understand. You’ve proven yourself quite bright, after all. Just ask if you need clarification.”
Blushing a little at the compliment, I nod and Mr. Scatter smiles. “Now, as you remember, structured magic requires a spell matrix to perform, but the standard method taught and used by most unicorns requires an excess of mana for the purpose of spell integrity. Though you won’t find it in many current day spellbooks, spells used to be taught in their simplest, most efficient forms, and aspiring wizards were encouraged to adjust the spells to their needs.
“You see, a spell can be cast with this base matrix, but it is very fragile, like a tower made from toothpicks; as you build the tower up, placing the toothpicks with even the slightest bit too much force will cause the whole thing to topple.
“And in the case of spell matrices, every bit of extra mana used will quite literally blow up in your face, meaning if you overshoot by enough, you can end up doing yourself some serious harm. Fear of such failure is why there are two methods used when constructing spell matrices to make them safer, but at an increased cost.
“The first is simple redundancy, repeating parts of a base matrix to make it more stable. So, kind of like using extra toothpicks to build up each layer of the tower, using more material, yes, but making the tower less prone to falling than a mere skeleton structure. In the case of the spell, this means that, while increasing the minimum cost, you also increase the upwards limit of how much extra mana can be used before things begin to break down.
“The next is the inclusion of fail-safes, of which entire books on the subject have been written. There are many kinds to choose from and place into your matrices, varying in cost and how much out of control mana they’re designed to mitigate, but rule of hoof is that, the bigger and more costly the fail-safe, the more explosive mana it can handle.
“Now, what can be taken away from all this is that the fewer redundancies and fail-safes placed into a matrix, the less mana it will use, but the more control will be needed to perform the spell correctly. Perfect control then, would allow a caster to use none of these, and thus cast the spell with absolute minimum cost.
“Also, since a matrix is built over the surface of the horn similar to the sheet used in shapeless magic, its cost can also benefit from aether reduction, though it’s worth noting that bigger spells will need more coverage. See, as I’ve already said, a single matrix is only designed to convert so much mana, and thus have only so much of an output, meaning if you want to perform larger versions of the same spell, you have to stack multiples of the same matrix on top of each other.
So, let’s say an anti-gravity spell consisting of one matrix can lift one to five stones, you’ll have to add another matrix to allow you to lift six to ten without causing the spell to fail, and so on and so forth. This thickens the mana on the horn, which then has more surface area to cover with aether.”
Head swimming, I lean back. “That… sounds like a lot to manage.”
“Oh, it is, which is why I don’t know any unicorns who have ever pursued the casting of a truly minimalist spell. The mana saved simply isn’t worth all the effort that goes into it, and thus, doing so is seen more as an exercise or challenge to test one's skills instead of having any practical, everyday use.
“Hitting that sweet-spot of just enough, but not too much mana flow, smoothing your projected aether and pulling it back, and maintaining this all through the duration of the spell, let alone a multilayered one, is all just too much for a pony to bother attempting when they could just use some extra mana and not give themselves a migraine.”
We are both silent as he watches me and I mull over the conclusion. “So… it’s really hard.”
“To say the least, yes.”
“But, not impossible.”
“Theoretically, I suppose.”
“Then I’ll try,” I state, looking up at the teacher with determination. “Will you help me, Mr. Scatter?”
He smiles kindly. “Of course, Pure, you are one of my students, after all. It’s my duty to help you with your magic.” Looking at the clock, he adds, “Though, perhaps a different day. You came straight here at the start of lunch break, so I know you haven’t eaten yet. Why don’t you go have a bite with your friends, and we’ll pursue this later.”
Smiling in return, I say my goodbyes and head towards the door, only to almost bump into a big book as I turned the corner. “Oh! Twilight?”
The purple filly maneuvers the book so her eyes are peeking over the top. “Um, hi, Pure, I was just going to ask Mr. Scatter some questions about something I read today. There’s stuff in this book that he was talking to you about during practice, so I figured he could help me too.”
Nodding in understanding, I step out of her way. “Well, we just got done talking, so go ahead.” As an afterthought, I add. “And if you finish with some time to spare, why don’t you come sit with us while we eat? Maybe we can talk about your book.”
Twilight usually did sit with the group during lunch, but she was hardly present, usually too enraptured by the pages of whatever tome she’d brought to pay attention to the other ponies. Maybe discussing something she's interested in will draw her out of her shell a little.
Her eyes dart away and she gives a noncommittal shrug before entering the classroom and approaching the teacher’s desk. I sigh, but don’t pursue the topic any longer. As much as I’d like to be friends with Twilight, real friends, I know it can’t be forced. I’ll just have to keep trying, just like with my magic.
Speaking of which, maybe I’ll start practicing while I eat. Mom cut my sandwich into quarters, so I might actually be able to lift one. Or, more realistically, one of the spinach leaves from the sandwich.
"Tag, you're it!" I shout as I once again run down Moondancer and tap her back. The beige filly simply huffs in response, legs shaking until she collapses on her belly. "Um, Mooney, you can't tag me back if you're laying on the ground."
"I-I give up," she wheezes, rolling onto her side. "Y-you're too fast."
"Uh, come on, you got me a few times," I respond. In truth, I had to let her catch me those few times, but I don't think I've been that hard on her. The loud wheeze in answer stands to correct me.
"Honey, you want some water?" Stepping Star calls to her daughter from the shade of the tree she spread a blanket under. The filly tries to tell her yes, but she can only manage a whisper, so I kneel down and wiggle my head under her foreleg, helping her to stand and walk over to her parents.
It's the sixth weekend since magic kindergarten has started, and I'm spending most of it at my first-ever sleepover at Moondancer's house. Mom was a little hesitant to agree at first, especially because, if I was spending the night at a friend's house, Blueblood wanted to do the same, but she eventually caved, and now I'm at the park having a picnic with Moondancer's family.
"Here you go, dear, drink up," Stepping Star tells her daughter when she finally collapses on the blanket, passing her an open bottle of water.
While Moondancer chugs the contents, her father looks at me. "Are you thirsty, Pure? You can have a bottle too," the light blue stallion offers, kind, purple eyes showing behind his thick rimmed glasses.
I shake my head. "No, I'm fine, thanks. Can I have a snack though? All that running got me kind of hungry."
"Of course," he answers, sifting through the picnic basket at his side, blowing a stand of his shaggy, light-purple mane from his eyes, andcatching his wife's attention.
"Ed, you should just let me cut that already, or at least let me put it up for you. I'm not comfortable with you walking around a mountain city with your mane in your eyes," the pegasus nags. "You're going to fall off a cliff... again."
The unicorn huffs, pulling out some little triangle sandwich on a plate and removing the wrapping. "That was years ago, and it was because of the drops the eye doctor used during the examination, not because my mane was in my face."
As the two grownups go back and forth not unlike the foals in my class often do, I munch on a sandwich and watch. "Sorry my parents are so weird," Moondancer comments besides me, breath under control for the most part and the blush from exertion being replaced by one of embarrassment. "They do this a lot..."
I giggle as Stepping Star pulls a scrunchy from her mane and tackles her husband. "It's okay, I think it's cute," I answer as the stallion gets overpowered and his bangs are pulled up into a ponytail at the top of his head.
"There, much better, and now you can actually help me keep an eye on the foals," Star says, climbing off the unicorn's back. "It took weeks to convince Ornate to let us watch Pure for the weekend, and if she goes home with even a scratch, we won't be convincing her again for a good long while."
I roll my eyes at that, knowing how overprotective my mom could get sometimes, but it's only when I'm out of the house and away from her. She lets me train with Grandpa Shield, after all, and only fusses for a couple hours over the scrapes and bruises I accumulate.
"This is ridiculous, I look ridiculous," Ed grumbles, pouting when his wife slaps his slowly rising hoof away from his mane. "Fine, I'll leave it be until we're safely home and away from any cliffs, okay?"
"Not really, there's three sets of stairs for you to fall down at home, but I'll have to settle for putting pillows at the bottom of them all," Star answers, meeting her husband's grumpy gaze for a few seconds before both start to laugh.
Moondancer groans as they begin to nuzzle each other. "So weird..."
"Don't worry, I think all parents are like that," I say reassuringly, patting my friend on the back before offering a snack. "Sandwich?"
Looking from the proffered sandwich to me, then her giggling parents, then back to the sandwich, she sighs before taking it and sticking it in her mouth.
I smile wide and move onto my fourth. I was getting a little self-conscious with nopony else eating, but with Moondancer joining in, I can feel less guilty about demolishing half of the plate by myself. It's going to take a lot of rinky-dink cucumber sandwiches to refuel after that game of tag.
We spent another two hours at the park, eating, drinking, and playing under the sun until the picnic basket was empty and even I was feeling a little tired. On the way back however, I asked about our post-lunch dessert, and Mooney soon joined in on the demand until her parents conceded.
Stopping at a little diner, Moondancer and I shuffle into one side of a booth while Ed gets in on the other. "Okay, this place has a pretty good chocolate sundae, so we'll get one for you two to share, then we'll be on our way. Does that sound good?" Stepping Star asks, getting nods from us foals while Ed hesitates.
"Um, actually, honey, I could maybe go for a little something, too. Maybe some of those cookies I saw in the display case on the way in?"
Stepping Star gives her husband a flat look. "Really?" He nods, smiling wide, getting her to sigh. "Sometimes I wonder who the foal actually is. Fine, a sundae for the little ones, and a cookie for you."
"The white chocolate, if you please, with macadamias!" he requests cheerfully as Star shakes her head and walks over to the counter.
Stepping Star decides to wait at the counter for the food to save the waitstaff a trip, and returns with our sundae on one outstretched wing and a cookie balanced on the tip of the other.
"Wow, you're really good at that," I comment as the mare lowers a wing towards the table and lets the ice cream slide smoothly down to stop in front of us.
"Lots of practice, Pure," she replies as she offers the cookie to her husband who takes it giddily in his magic. "I was a waitress for a few years when I was still trying to make it as a dancer. Actually, it helped me to become a better dancer, I think. It gave my wings a workout, and helped me with my hoofwork and balance. A pirouette is easy once you've carried several dishes on your wings while maneuvering through a busy restaurant."
"Huh, kind of like how Mr. Scatter tells us to use our magic to do as much small stuff as we can throughout the day. He says it's good practice," I muse.
"Mhmm, it's important to practice when you can if you really want to be good at something," Stepping Star agrees with a sage nod, only opening her eyes to see that she's being largely ignored in lieu of the sugary treats. Even her husband is blissfully unaware of the conversation as he nibbles at his cookie with a smile.
Realizing Mooney has gotten a head start on the sundae, levitating another spoonful into her mouth cheerfully, I scramble to pick up my own spoon. I fumble a few seconds, before my hooves slow and I watch my friend use her magic effortlessly. As much as it shames me to admit, I still feel a little envious at the progress my friends have made while I'm just starting to get the beginning quill exercises down.
I've of course been practicing my control in the hopes of achieving what Mr. Scatter and I discussed, but I haven't made much headway yet. I can actually smooth aether pretty well, but only for a few seconds before I lose concentration and it warbles out of control. I haven't even tried to do it in tandem with reduction, but at least in that regard, I've gotten some use. I can't pull back a lot of aether while it's out of control, but I can pull back some, which has helped a lot in stretching my reserves out.
"You going to eat any, Pure?" Moondancer asks, chocolate and vanilla smeared around her lips and ice cream laden spoon frozen midair.
"Yeah," I quickly respond, coming out of my thoughts to notice a little over a third of the bowl gone. "I can't let you eat it all by yourself, piggy," I finish playfully, before reaching for my spoon.
My hoof hovers, before withdrawing. Lips pressed in a firm line, I narrow my eyes and draw upon my magic. Distantly, I hear the voices around me quiet, but I'm too focused on wrapping the metal spoon in my magic to care. I immediately feel the drain as the aura forms, and quickly pull some back as soon as the base layer of mana is complete. Gaining some time, I still try to work fast to get a hold of the bubbling aether, and my vision begins to tunnel.
My world soon follows, and nothing exists but the spoon, my horn, and the pale pink magic surrounding both. The aether slows, undulating less, and I pull back a little more into myself. Not a lot, not as much as I could, but I'm playing it safe to avoid outright dropping the metal utensil. Magic situated, I finally attempt to lift it, and immediately take note of the immense weight.
It's much heavier than a quill, and I feel a strain along my horn as if the working mana is pooling downwards. It's practically microscopic, but to me, it might as well be trying to drip off as I pull the mana back into shape. The aether begins to wobble when I split my focus further, but that's why I left it thick. Finally, I take note of my accomplishment, the silver surface shimmer at eye level before me.
The way the pale glow bounces off of the concave surface of the spoon is almost hypnotic as I stare, transfixed. It feels like hours before I feel something brush against my side and I look away. As soon as I do, the aether wobbles, and I feel it break away at my horn first before the spoon's follows soon after. With a wet plop, it lands in the ice cream bowl, it's pristine surface marred with streaks of white and brown.
"Oops, I'm so sorry, Pure," Moondancer says, hoof coming to her mouth. "I didn't mean to make you drop it."
I blink a few times, looking around before remembering where I am. "It's.. okay," I begin slowly. "How long did I do it for?"
"Um, only for a little bit," the beige filly says, bringing her hoof down as she starts to smile. "But I didn't know you could lift more than feathers now."
Shrugging and still a little dazed from both the magical and mental exertion, I mumble, "That was the first time, actually." And only for a few seconds to boot, certainly not as long as it felt.
"Then it's excellent progress," Ed says suddenly, brushing cookie crumbs from his lips before giving a smile. "A spoon weighs many times more than a quill, so you should be proud of the achievement."
I must have let my disappointment show for the stallion to be trying to cheer me up, but it still works regardless as I return the smile weakly. "Thanks, maybe one day I'll be able to eat ice cream with my magic."
"Keep practicing, and I'm sure that day won't be too far off," he replies before wiggling a little in his seat. "Um, Star, do you mind stepping out of the booth for a bit, I... need to use the little colts room real quick."
After some shuffling about, Mr. Ed is up and doing a little trot to the bathroom, eliciting a couple immature giggles from Moondancer and me. Instead of sitting down right away, Stepping Star looks from her husband to the crumb-covered napkin his cookie had been resting on, biting her lip. After a few seconds of internal debate, the mare sighs and looks at us. "If Ed doesn't get out before I'm back, please don't tell him I bought a cookie for myself. It's just... they really did look good."
Leaving instructions for us to behave while she steps away, the pegasus moves to the short line at the counter, intent on buying herself a sweet snack. While she does, I quickly catch up to Moondancer in our ice cream consumption, taking the spoon in hoof and shoveling down mouthfuls of frozen goodness.
The sundae bowl rapidly empties as we speed eat, until finally, there's only a single glob of half-melted dessert left at the bottom of the dish. I meet Moondancer's steely gaze with one of my own, and raise my spoon. Hers does the same, wrapped in a pink aura paler than even mine, and stays there. If she thinks just because she has magic on her side that she'll win, she has another thing coming. Blueblood used to think the same way, until he learned how far I would go for the last piece of dessert.
Suddenly, her spoon plummets down like a comet, only to be intercepted by my own. The two utensils clash with a tink and shake as we both try to push the other away. My muscles overpowering her magic as I force her spoon back up into the air with a heave before diving down for the ice cream. She flies into my path multiple times, but I swat her away at each turn before finally, with a tight maneuver, I cleanly scoop the last of the ice cream into my spoon with a triumphant cheer.
She groans dejectedly while I do a little jig in my seat and say, "Better luck next time, Moon, 'cause this ice cream is mine." Crossing her hooves, she pouts as I slowly inch the spoon towards my mouth, planning on saving the last sweet thing I'd get before dessert tonight.
Then an earth pony mare I know I've seen somewhere before comes marching out from behind the counter back near the bathrooms, and starts harshly whispering down towards some pony unseen. "I told you to sit quietly and not touch anything, didn't I? Why would you do that? We need this job, Butters, why can't you just behave?"
"It's just a few plates," is mumbled back in a familiar voice.
"You knocked over an entire stack of dirty dishes! Mr. Turnover nearly fired me, and even still, this is coming out of my pay. My promise that you wouldn't cause trouble is the only reason he's letting me bring you to work."
"Why can't I just stay home? It's boring here."
"Because you're too young and I can't afford a foalsitter. Listen, I'm sorry, sweetie, you know I am, but please try to understand, things are hard right now, we can't afford to make mistakes like this. You know we can't."
"... I'm sorry, Mama."
"I know you are, just... just, please, try to behave yourself. I'll come check on you as much as I can, but Mr. Turnover doesn't want you in the kitchen right now, so stay right here in this booth, okay? And don't talk to strangers."
"Yes, Mama..."
Being closer to the edge, I'm first to see who comes out from around the counter to climb up into a booth, and I quickly push Moondancer's curious head down. Buttercup is sitting three booths behind us, chin resting on the table with a small frown.
"Was that...?"
"Buttercup," I confirm dismally. Why did she have to be here? Didn't we suffer enough during class? Couldn't I have just enjoyed my first sleepover away from home in peace?
While I'm sulking, Moondancer puts her front hooves on the back of the seat to peek over, before quickly darting back down. "Uh-oh..."
"What?"
"Um, I think she just saw me."
"What!?" I hiss, glancing around the corner to see Buttercup's head perked up. A frown pulls at her lips, and she disappears from sight, only to hop down to the floor a second later. I slam my back against the vinyl cushion and groan. I notice Stepping Star nearing the counter and silently plead for her to return before I hear the familiar, taunting voice.
"Oh great, if it isn't the princess and her hoof-kisser."
I sigh while Moondancer gives an indignant yell. "Hi, Buttercup."
"What are you doing here?" she demands, getting a raised brow from me.
"Um, eating ice cream," I answer, holding the dessert laden spoon up as demonstration. The filly's frown deepens.
"Of course, the princess gets everything she wants, right? Eating ice cream and cookies and anything else she asks for. Just like Mama says. Spoiled."
I flinch back at that, stunned. "Wha-? I'm not spoiled!"
Buttercup rolls her eyes. "Sure, that's why you always have sweets in your lunches at school, or have a new book every week, or how your brother is always talking about new toys. You can't even do magic like you're supposed to, and you still get everything you want."
I'm stumped for a response at that, and can only stupidly repeat, "I'm not spoiled..."
I won't deny that I enjoy those things, or that my family is a more than a bit doting sometimes, but I'd be just as happy if all they could give me was love and attention. After my first life spent mostly alone, suddenly having parents always there for me, or a brother to snuggle with at night is more than enough to make this new life feel complete.
But I can't say those things, and I doubt the green filly would understand as she continues to glare. "Yeah? Well why not share a little then to prove it? I never get ice cream 'cause we don't have an icebox and it cost lots."
I jerk the spoon closer to my body protectively, ignoring the melted drips on my chest. "No, this is mine."
"Like you need any more," she shoots back, eyes narrowing. "If you're not gonna give it, I'll just take it."
I feel the magic strongly as it's directed at me, staring bewildered as an aura surrounds the spoon in my hoof. A powerful tug at my ice cream is finally when I realize the absurd situation as I try to pull back. "Stop it!" I shout, both amazed by the filly's brazen behavior, and how strong she was yanking at my spoon. My horn is tingling with how close I am to the untamed magic.
"No!" she shoots back petulantly, trying to twist the spoon out of my grasp. At this point, I'm pretty sure she doesn't care that half of the tiny spoonful of ice cream has already spilled out and the rest is going to follow at this rate, she just doesn't want me to have it.
That's fine, because I'm feeling the same way. I'm not going to let this bully have her way. With my hoof pulled out in front of me, I lunge my head forward to try and slurp the sweet slop off, but she jerks it to the left to make me miss. Before I can adjust myself, she's already pulling it the other way.
Back and forth she pulls, shaking my body and splattering the table and chair with more cream. It feels like I'm playing tug-o-war with a dog, and my now slick hoof can't keep a good enough hold any longer. With a harsh, triumphant laugh, Buttercup whips the spoon from my grasp, only to lose her own right after.
The world slows to a crawl as I watch the spoon go flying through the air. I follow it with mournful eyes, both from the sting of defeat, and the loss of perfectly good ice cream, until I notice where it's heading with a gasp. Stepping Star is two thirds the way across the diner heading towards us, the perplexed look on her face being replaced by wide-eyed shock as the spoon careens towards her head.
Everything boils over inside of me then. The sadness, the defeat, and the sheer hatred I'm feeling towards Buttercup at that moment. I am not going to let the brat win. She is not going to ruin my first-ever sleepover at Moondancer's. She is not going to cover my best friend's mom in ice cream.
And she most definitely is not going to keep me from eating said ice cream like the precious dessert deserves. Over my dead body.
It's practically instinct when I reach for my magic, each step practiced a hundred times with nary any improvement comes almost naturally now as I conjure an aura around my horn and the spoon both. Despite the distance and the fact that my target is moving, I still manage to grasp it. The aether flares for only moments before shrinking down by nearly half and calming considerably.
I immediately feel the drain on my reserves, and quickly reel my catch in past two booths before exhaustion can overtake me. As soon as it's within reach, I clamp my mouth around it victoriously. There's not much more than a coating of melted cream left on the spoon at this point, but it's still one of the most satisfying bites of dessert I've ever had.
When the sweet bliss finally fades and I open my eyes and look around, it's to see four bewildered ponies staring at me. Mr. Ed is halfway out of the bathroom, the door resting against his side while his wife is slack jawed. Moondancer is the spitting image of her mother at that moment as she sits sideways besides me, and Buttercup is looking up, surprise slowly warping to annoyance.
I shrug nervously, pulling the spoon from my mouth with a hoof, realizing what I had just accomplished with the bit of metal. "Uh... I guess I really like ice cream... Heh."
"Moondancer, I want to, I really do, but I can't keep my eyes open anymore," I mewl, falling backwards on the pillow. "We're supposed to be sleeping, anyway." We really are, too. It's rare for me to be up this late, the sun having set hours ago, but my friend is relentless.
Maybe it was the scare at the diner, that I was nearly taken home early, that Moondancer is so desperate to squeeze every minute out of the sleepover, or maybe it was the coffee provided by her sister that we both took sips of. Neither of us could have swallowed more than a few drops of the bitter liquid, hacking as we were, but the taste alone was enough to jolt me awake at the time, even if the energy didn't last.
"But you'll really like this one!" the beige filly protests, interrupting my thoughts and holding up yet another book. "It's one of my favorites!"
As were the fifteen others stacked on the side of the bed. To no one's surprise, when we finally arrived at Moondancer's home, and our combined puppy eyes prevented my parents being contacted, the two of us have done little more than read. I got a tour of the house, of course, specifically Moondancer's bookshelf, and we hung out with her sister, Dawn Blend, for a bit, but eventually, we were laying on the carpet of her room, reading.
That was hours ago, and besides dinner, we haven't stopped. About halfway through her book collection, the magic drain from earlier started to take its toll. As much as I am proud of the progress I made, and as much as I want to repeat my success, I know it's better to get a good night's sleep first to avoid complete exhaustion, but Moondancer is insatiable.
"We still have all day tomorrow," I argue, barely lifting my head to meet her eyes. "Can't we read the rest of them then?"
"But we're going to the library tomorrow!" she counters desperately. "We'll have a whole bunch of new books to read then!"
"Yeah, but not until later in the day. We'll still have time in the morning. We can get through your books if we go fast." I'm relieved to see my reasoning getting through to her, her bottom lip caught cutely between her teeth and the book clung tightly to her chest, but I can tell she still needs a little more incentive. "How 'bout we lay back and tell stories to each other 'til we fall asleep? Like, from our heads?"
She looks hesitant. "I don't know... I'm not too good at telling stories without reading the words. I get all mixed up."
"Well, I'll tell a story then, and it'll be super good, I promise," I assure her, patting the space beside me. Her bed isn't all that large, but luckily, we are small enough that we both can squeeze in under the covers without one of us having to migrate to the floor. Reluctantly, she concedes, wiggling in next to me and pulling the blanket up to her chin.
"So, what story are you gonna tell?" she asks inquisitively.
"I'm not sure yet," is my honest response, tired eyes closed but brain digging furiously for a tale. I realize then that practically every story book I've ever read in my new life, Moondancer has as well, and I'm left lost, struggling to keep my promise. Then, upon reaching back further and further, I stumble upon knowledge often ignored, and inspiration strikes.
If I didn't have any stories from this world to tell, then I'll simply have to pull some from a different one. "Okay, this story is called, um, An Equestrian Tail. That's tail, like on our butts, by the way," I clarify, getting the filly to giggle.
"I haven't heard that one before. What's it about?"
"It's about mice."
"Mice? But aren't they suppose to be icky?"
"Hey, mice are cute," I counter. "Especially this one. This is the story of Fievel, the cutest, nicest mouse of of all, and his family."
"F- Fiiy-vall? That's a really weird name."
"Mouse names are different from pony names. Anyway, the story starts in... The the land of the gryphons, like we read in that book, remember? With Fievel and his family throwing a party on, um, mouse-Hearth's Warming, I think, and Fievel's dad has just given him a big blue hat as gift and told him about Equestria and how much better it is."
"Why doesn't Fievel's dad like the gryphon land?"
"Cats. There are cats everywhere, and cats eat mice. Plus gryphons are part cat, so they probably eat mice too."
"Gasp! Do they really?"
"Well, in this story they do. I mean, I'm pretty sure mice don't wear hats and throw parties either, so..."
"Yeah... I guess so. That's still gross to think about, and sad."
"It is. Anyway, just as Fievel's dad tells him about how their are no cats in Equestria-"
"But there is! Miss Drizzle across the street a has a whole bunch of cats, like five!"
"Yeah, Fievel's dad might not be too smart. I think maybe he's a hat maker, or something... So, the mice are all celebrating and having fun, Fievel's dancing with his sister, his dad is playing music, and they're eating cheese and drinking punch, when all of a sudden, cats attack!"
"No!"
"Yep, and Fievel and his family barely escape. Cats are swiping at 'em one way, and the mice dodge the other, and they're chased out of their home and into the snow. After that, the mice are tired of the cats and always being afraid, so the dad decides it's finally time to leave-"
"And come to Equestria!"
"Mhmm, they sneak onto a big steam boat heading towards... Mmm, Manehattan. While his family is down below, waiting to reach their new dream home, Fievel, adventurous little mouse that he is, goes up top to see the ocean, but there's a really bad storm happening, and a big wave ends up knocking him into the water."
"Oh no!"
"Yeah, it's super scary as he gets pulled under, and he fights just to keep his head above the waves. It doesn't look good, until he ends up inside a glass bottle and he gets washed to shore. He makes it to Manehattan, but he's lost and alone, and his family are afraid they'll never see Fievel again."
"Please let him find his family," Moondancer whispers repeatedly under her breath, pushing harder against me. Warmth bubbles up in my chest at the response, glad my friend is so invested in a story that meant much to me so long ago. Even after everything, both from my past life and my new one, I still remember watching this movie with my father religiously.
Before the permanent move to the hospital when there was still hope for my recovery, we'd play the VHS tape of this movie everyday, it being a favorite of both of ours and something we could share. For years we watched it to the credits, only to rewind it back to the start and repeat the process. We did it so many times, in fact, that the tape eventually tore and Father promised to find another copy.
That was right before I was rushed to the ER where I spent my last few years. I had always wished to watch it again, but things had simply become too difficult then, and there was never any time.
Those thoughts have sadness budding right alongside the warmth, especially as I guiltily realize how vague my memories of the movie have become over the years, but I strive forward nonetheless. "On his own, Fievel tries to find his family, but the streets are scary, and the city's huge, and he starts to lose hope. Luckily, he meets a kind pigeon named Henri, who tells him not to give up; to never say never."
"Never say never?"
"Yeah, like, as long as you keep trying, you'll get what you want, and for Fievel, that's his family, so that's what the little mouse does, he keeps going... Until he meets this tricky, fibbing rat named Warren who foalnaps him and makes him work in a shop."
"But he's just a baby! What a mean rat!"
"Don't worry though, Mooney, Fievel doesn't stay there long before making a friend; another mouse named Tony, and the two escape together. After that, they meet a girl mouse named Bridget-"
"Ugh, who came up with all these silly names? How am I supposed to remember them when they don't make sense?"
"I know, I know, sorry, but these are the names. Anyway, Bridget is trying to make all the mice in the city work together to fight the cats, and Fievel and Tony end up joining the cause."
"See, I bet Fievel was really shocked when he found out there are cats in Equestria."
"Oh yeah he was, and his family was too. See, there was actually a big cat attack at a mouse marketplace, and Fievel's family was there. This makes them even sadder after they lost Fievel, but his sister, Tanya- hush, I know it's a weird name- Tanya is sure he'll come back."
"That's right, big sisters know everything. Dawn is super smart, too."
"Lucky. All I got is Bluey." I can only maintain the faux pout for a for seconds before joining Moondancer's giggles with a snort. "I'm joking, don't tell him I said that."
"Sure, but what happens next in the story?"
"Right, well, Tanya goes out and looks at the moon, thinking about how Fievel is probably looking at it too, and he is. He's even thinking the same thing as his sister, and he can't wait to find her and his parents, but first he has to help Bridget and the other mice beat the cats."
"But how? Cats are big, and mice are little. What can they do?"
"Fievel's the one who figures it out. He comes up with this crazy plan to scare the cats away by making a giant monster mouse out of a bunch of old stuff."
"Like garbage and stuff?"
"Yeah, and some hot air balloons to make the body."
"Pff, that's silly. Who'd be afraid of balloons?"
"Cats. Especially if they pop them with their claws. Anyway, the mice think it's a good idea, and start working on it right away. While they do that, Fievel goes to see Warren, the mean rat, but when he finds him, Warren is taking off a disguise, because he's actually a cat."
"Wait, what!?"
"Yep, he was lying to the mice so they would trust him and he could steal from them easier. Even worse, he's also the leader of the cats and has been telling them where to find the mice and when to attack."
"That's horrible! I hope Fievel ran straight to his mouse friends and told them what a bad kitty Warren is."
"He wanted to, but he ended up getting caught instead and held prisoner. Luckily though, Warren left a big, orange, fluffy cat in a purple shirt named Tiger to watch him, and even though he pretended not to be, he was really nice. When Fievel shares his story, Tiger starts to cry, and decides to let him go."
"Aww, good kitty."
"Definitely. but not the other ones, because as soon as they see him, Warren's whole gang of cats starts chasing Fievel as he runs to the other mice, who are at the docks by the ocean. Seeing him coming, the leader mouse tells the others to release the secret weapon! In a really funny voice, by the way. And that's just what they do, bringing out the scariest, giant, fireworks spitting mouse you've ever seen."
"Uh, I don't think I've ever seen a giant firework spitting mouse before."
"Oh, uh, just imagine a dragon, but covered in fur, I guess."
Moondancer giggles. "Heh, it's cute."
"No! It's scary! It has big, jagged, sharp teeth, and blank, glowing yellow eyes, and haunting, grinding roar!"
"Eep! Okay, it's scary now."
"The cats think so, because they dive right into the water and swim all the way to a boat leaving Equestria."
"Yay!"
"The mice are happy, too, and they celebrate, but, things don't stay happy for long before a big fire breaks out. Turns out fireworks can be dangerous. Who knew? Well, during all the running and screaming, Fievel gets separated from his friends, and they're shouting his name looking for him, which is actually a good thing, because Fievel's family is there too, and they hear it.
"Tanya hears it first and tells her dad, but he thinks it must be a different Fievel and ignores her. They probably would have left and not seen him again if it weren't for his mom finding his hat. After that, they go looking for him, joining up with his friends, and run into Tiger, who gives them a ride on his back."
"And then they find him, right?"
"Of course, with his friends and family working together, how couldn't they? And with Fievel and his family finally back together, they all live happily ever after."
"I'm glad," Moondancer says with relief, yawning. "That was a nice story, maybe we'll find it at the library tomorrow and we can actually read it. I bet Fievel is really cute in the pictures."
"Um... maybe," I answer, a little nervous. "I... actually don't think it's a book."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I think, maybe, I... made it up? Or maybe it was from a dream. I don't remember," I fib. Really, there isn't much else I can do since I doubt the movie has a book of it here in Equestria for Moondancer to ever find.
"You mean... you made up that entire story? Even the silly names?"
"... Yes?"
"...That's incredible!"
"What?"
"You made up an entire story in your head!? You're like a real life author!" She exclaims, turning to her side to look at me.
I open my eyes to meet her wide ones. "It's not that incredible," I try meekly, but she just shakes her head.
"Yes it is! You should write it down and make your own book!"
"I don't think so," I mumble, turning away to hide the blush spreading across my cheeks. Some of it is from embarrassment, but most is shame. I didn't mean to steal someone else's story and claim it as my own, I just wanted to tell a bedtime story to my friend so she'd fall asleep happy.
"But why not?" she practically whines, getting me to wince.
"It's... just not that good, barely a whole story even. No pony would want to read that." That's certainly the truth. I'm actually amazed at how foggy my memories of the movie are after having watched it so many times, but when I think back on those days, I mostly remember leaning into my father's side, munching on snacks, and clutching his shirt whenever the giant mouse came on screen.
"I liked it," argues Moondancer. "I'm sure other ponies would too."
"Just... just no. I'm sorry, Mooney, but..." I sigh, the exhaustion from before doubling in that moment. "Can we go to sleep now? I'm really tired."
Fighting to keep my eyes open until she gives an answer, I look through heavy lids to see her with a strange expression. Finally she gives a small nod. "...Okay."
"Good," I say with a tired smile, letting my eyes fall closed again.
I just want to go to sleep and bury those drudged up memories again before they can put me in tears, but Moondancer speaks up. "Pure... are you mad at me?"
"Of course not," I respond, peeking at her pensive face. "Why would you think that?"
"You sounded mad when I was saying you should write a book. I... I'm sorry if I ruined our sleepover."
"You didn't," I assure her, placing a hoof on her chest. "I'm sorry if I sounded mad, I'm just tired really. I promise, this is the best sleepover I've ever had."
She looks skeptical. "This is the only sleepover you've ever had."
"Still the best," I answer confidently, getting Moondancer to smile lightly. "You're like some sort of sleepover master."
She giggles, chin tucked to her chest, and soon we both say our final goodnights, snuggling in under the covers and wrapping each other in our hooves.
Ornate Garden sipped at a glass of water, eyes flicking to the clock periodically to count the minutes. Yesterday, when Stepping Star brought Pureblood home, she had told Ornate about what had happened at the little diner, and at the time, it had infuriated her. She knew about the harassment her daughter put up with at school from Buttercup, but Pure seemed able to shrug it off well enough, and Ornate had discussed it with the teacher besides.
But for that bullying to extend outside of school, and nearly ruin her daughter's first sleepover? Well, Ornate was a bit upset to hear that Star and her husband merely decided to leave without causing a fuss. Ornate was about ready to march down to that diner herself and issue a complaint, but it was already getting late by then, and so she waited. Lying awake in bed, with the angry storm beginning to settle in her mind, she was able to think more clearly on the whole situation.
She had no doubt that at least some of the green filly's animosity towards Pure was being passed down from her mother. A mare who had worked in this very home not too long ago before a careless slip of the tongue had the patriarch of the family tossing her out. Even after all this time, it still irked Ornate some to think about, that somepony would dare speak ill of her precious angel, but she knew that anger would only exacerbate the issue, just as getting Daisy fired from her new job would no doubt escalate things.
Instead, as soon as the twins were in school, she sent for a messenger to deliver a simple letter. It was a request for Daisy Care's presence at the estate at her soonest convenience. The response was quick, and the meeting set for noon.
And so Ornate Garden waited, rehearsing what she wanted to say to the other mother when she finally arrived. "Madam, there's a Daisy Care at the door to see you," one of the staff said from the entryway, snapping his employer from her thoughts.
"Oh, yes, I was expecting her, thank you," she said, getting up trotting the long way to the front of the house. The trip wasn't long enough to prepare her for the familiar face bearing an unfamiliar scowl.
"Well, are you going to invite me in?" Daisy asked, annoyance clear in her voice. "This is my only day off this week, and I'd rather not waste it standing around."
"Sorry, yes, please come in," Ornate answered, stepping aside. "The kitchen is-"
"I know where it is," Daisy cut off. "I used to work here, remember?"
"I remember..." With a sigh, Ornate followed her guest. She knew this wouldn't be easy, but keeping her temper was going to prove near impossible if the other mare continued to act so rudely towards her in her own home. She reminded herself that this was for Pure's sake, and entered the kitchen.
"If you'd like, you can sit while I make us some tea," offered Ornate, moving passed her guest to reach the stove. "Do you have any preference?"
Caught off guard, Daisy answered uncertainly, "Uh... Anything with caffeine in it will be fine, thank you."
Black tea then. Ornate busied herself, filling the kettle and setting it on the burner, before going to sit across from Daisy. An awkward silence filled the air between them, and Ornate used it to observe the earth pony mare. She looked quite different then she remembered, and not simply because of the missing maid outfit. She looked tired, green coat unkempt and strands of her black mane falling from a messy bun into her haggard eyes. Motherhood was hard, Ornate knew, but it had never been such an all-consuming endeavor as to prevent her from properly grooming herself.
"Well, this is certainly a novel experience," Daisy suddenly drawled.
"Um, excuse me?"
"Getting served tea by you, instead of the other way around," she clarified. "I never thought it'd happen, though I shouldn't be surprised, this isn't the first time you ponies threw me for a loop. I never thought I'd be fired after nearly three years of loyal service either."
Ornate flinched minutely, but maintained her composure. "Yes, well, life tends to be unpredictable at times, like what occurred yesterday with our fillies. What a coincidence that was."
"And we finally get to what this is all about. What do you want, Garden, an apology?" asked Daisy with narrowed eyes.
"It certainly wouldn't hurt, though, not from you, or to me. No, it will have to be from your daughter to mine." The kettle went off, and Ornate stood. It was quick work with her horn, moving the kettle, cups, and teabags onto a serving tray before levitating them over to the table.
"Good luck with that," Daisy commented with a tired smile lacking any humor. "Buttercup isn't the sort to apologize unless she means it no matter who tells her to do so."
Ornate set the cups out and placed the bags into them before pouring steaming hot water over them. "That's a... respectable quality, I suppose. Honesty is one of the pillars our country was founded on, after all."
Some of the tension left Daisy's frame at the small compliment, but it quickly returned with a scowl. "If you understand, then you know this little meeting is pointless. I might as well just go home and stop wasting both of our time. I could be sleeping right now."
"The apology was more a suggestion, something I hope happens someday. No, I called you here so that we could settle things between us," Ornate explained, bobbing her teabag up and down to quicken the steeping process.
Daisy narrowed her eyes. "What's there to settle? The two of us were never friends, and I'm not under your employ anymore."
"That's true," the unicorn conceded. "Though that doesn't mean I don't regret losing your services. You were Bluey's favorite nanny, after all. He missed you those first few weeks after you left."
Expression softening, Daisy chuckled. "And I him. He was quite the hoofful, much like my own little one. It was exhausting to leave for work after dealing with a surging foal all night, only to come in to deal with another, but he was a sweet, if not wild colt. I had actually looked forward to introducing them... before being let go. I'm sure he and Buttercup would have gotten along well."
Ornate bit the inside of her cheek. "That's right, you had only foaled a couple months before me. I'd nearly forgotten, with how quickly your maternity leave ended."
"Yes, well, we can't all afford a life of leisure, and raising a foal is expensive. With my husband in between jobs at the time, there really wasn't much choice but for him to stay home with Buttercup while I worked." Ignoring the guilt that flashed across her host's face, Daisy picked up her cup between two hooves and took a sip. Smacking her lips in deliberation, she said, "Needs some sugar."
"Oh, sorry, I forgot the cream and sugar," Ornate said, getting up, eager for an escape from the uncomfortable topic. She didn't want to think about the situation she put the mare before her in by not challenging her husband's decision. She may not have been the one to fire her, but she didn't try to bring her back in either, and by not doing so, she may have put a young mother out on the street with her family.
Returning quicker than she would have liked, Ornate set the glass jar down along side a pitcher from the fridge before sitting. She watched the other mare in silence as she pulled the jar towards her and flipped the lid up, pulling a single sugar cube out and dropping it in her drink. After another sip, she nodded in satisfaction.
"Good?" Ornate asked, pouring a bit of cream into her own cup and plopping in two cubes after removing the bag. She was a bit surprised Daisy took her own tea so plain, especially such a strong blend as this.
"It's fine," she answered, sipping gingerly at the steaming beverage. A hush descended over the two, only interrupted by the occasional slurp or sigh.
"...You mentioned your husband," Ornate finally said, trying to broach a new topic. "Perhaps it's silly to say, what with the nature of our relationship back then, but I've never met him. It's as you said though, you were with us for three years, and I've seen the spouses of most every other pony working at this estate at least once for some reason or another."
Daisy shrugged. "He worked odd hours doing whatever he could to bring in bits, having to travel all over the city on hoof to find jobs. Needless to say, if he wasn't working, he was sleeping, and certainly didn't have time to visit or bring me lunch while I was working."
"He has trouble finding steady employment?" Ornate asked, only to immediately regret it when she received a vicious glare.
"It's not his fault, It's these damn Canterlot ponies. Bunch of tribalists; the so-called elites see a unicorn with a "mud pony" cutie mark and suddenly he's an outcast. Then the few earth ponies who can actually stand to live in this city won't hire him because surely a unicorn could never know as much about plants as one of them. Never mind that he's read every herbology book there is in the Canterlot library twice over or that he's worked hard and studied his whole life to help ponies-"
"Daisy, please! I didn't mean it like that, I was only curious!" Ornate interrupted, panicky eyes darting down to the cracking cup between the other mare's hooves. Any more pressure, and she'd be picking porcelain shards from her frogs.
Looking down, the green mare realized what she was doing, and her hooves shot down below the table. Taking a few calming breaths through her nose, she spoke. "Sorry, it's just... Glow Seed is a good, honest, intelligent stallion, and it upsets me that so few others can see that."
"No, it's alright, that was insensitive of me, even if it was an accident," Ornate replied, before something sparked in her mind. "You mentioned he's read up a lot on herbology?"
Daisy gave a breathy laugh, looking even more tired after her outburst. "To put it mildly, yes. It's been his passion ever since he got his mark."
"And he's a unicorn..."
Another glare, though this one lacked the same bite as before. "Yes, does that seem strange to you?"
It was Ornate's turn to laugh lightly. "Daisy, I'm a unicorn named Garden from a family of florists on my mother's side. A unicorn being interested in flora is hardly strange to me."
At this, the other mare actually blushed and looked away. "Yes, well, you're also from a notable family and married to the Princess' nephew. I doubt you've ever had to deal with biting remarks from other unicorns; they'd be too afraid to say anything. Glow doesn't have those protections, however."
That wiped Ornate's smile away. The accusation, at least that's what it felt like, might have actually been true; her family may not have been nobles, but they had carved out their place in Canterlot over generations, and had at least a grudging respect from its populace. Add onto that her father, another notable figure in Canterlot, and she could see other ponies keeping their opinions to themselves around her.
Noticing her tea cup was nearly empty, Ornate finished it and went to work preparing another, using the time to think. "... So, Glow Seed's a herbalist, hmm?" the unicorn said just as much to herself as her guest, putting her thoughts into words. "You know, my brother, Sunlight Shine, is actually a botanist working at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns; being a unicorn with a talent for plant life, he's become somewhat of a pioneer in the field of chloromancy."
"Isn't every pony in your family just blessed," grumbled Daisy.
Ignoring her, Ornate continued, "Perhaps I can talk to him about giving your husband a job."
It was probably a good thing the other mare hadn't been drinking anything at that moment, or else the coughing fit that followed would have been far more messy. "W-what? A job? At Celestia's school?"
"Maybe," Ornate said. "He has been talking about how he wished to have another unicorn with a botanical cutie mark. The earth ponies he works with are useful, but he wants a unicorn to help him progress the spell work side of things. Maybe your husband can be the assistant he's looking for, and if not, well, I'm sure he can still find a place for him."
"Yes! I mean," she coughed into her hoof again, this time trying to regain her composure instead of clearing her airways. "Yes, I'm sure Glow would be thrilled by the prospect. A steady job in his field..."
The last bit was said almost wistfully, and Ornate couldn't help the small smile that pulled at her lips. This certainly wasn't where she expected today's visit to end up, but she was happy nonetheless to help these ponies. It helped ease some of the guilt she felt by knowing the situation she had let them fall into.
"I'll talk to my brother later. I'm sure he'll want to meet Glow Seed right away, so be expecting a messenger in a couple days." Daisy nodded in agreement, and lifted her teacup for another drink, her hooves noticeably shaking.
The silence began to stretch again, though this time it was less oppressive. "... I envied you back then. You, and ponies like you."
"What?" Ornate asked, tilting her head.
"I envied you," Daisy repeated, eyes downcast. "I still do, in fact. Growing up, we never had much, my parents only just scraping by, and I used to see ponies like you, ponies with everything they could ever want. Beautiful dresses, perfectly styled manes, I wanted to be like that too, so I copied them, the way they talked, their walks, all in foalish hope that it would suddenly change things, that if I pretended hard enough, I could be an elite as well.
"It never worked of course, I was just a no-name earth pony destined to follow in my parents' hoofsteps. To either be a servant, or a street sweeper. The only thing I had pride in was the adoration of my younger siblings; knowing that I took care of them, that mother and father trusted me to watch them while they toiled the day away. I was good at it, too. It's my special talent, after all, caring for others... serving them. It's what I grew up to do.
"Isn't that just perfect? Not only did I have to see it on the streets then, I could go into work every day and see what I'd never have. Cleaning the big homes, and serving the fancy meals I dreamed of as a filly. It faded some as I grew out of my teenage years, and after meeting Glow, I almost didn't care at all. Love provides it's own riches, and Buttercup is my treasure.
"I remember seeing her and thinking how beautiful she was. How perfect. My perfect little filly. I'm ashamed to admit, but I put her in competition against your daughter. Horrible, I know, but I couldn't help but feel that, for once, I had something definitively better than you. She had taken her first steps before Pureblood, a small victory. Buttercup was rambunctious and full of energy where your daughter was quiet. And the magic, of course...
"How pathetic, tearing down a foal just to feel better about myself. Perhaps I deserved to be fired, though I didn't see it that way at the time. I hated you and your husband. How many times did Glow have to tell me to calm down? To not rant and rave in front of our foal like a lunatic? Too many by far. Every day I came home from a failed job hunt. No pony would hire me as a maid once they found out I had been fired from the Blueblood household. No noble wanted another's castoff in their home. Even after I finally found employment, I'd still seethe whenever I returned from a stressful shift at the diner.
"And when I saw you that first day at the kindergarten, of course, just as I last saw you, happy, content, completely unaware of how my life had changed for the worse. I was angry then, I told Buttercup to stay away from your foals, that they were spoiled, stuck up snobs..."
Ornate watched on, stunned as Daisy spoke, face blank save for the tears running down her cheeks. "... I don't deserve your kindness, but I can't turn it down either. As awful as I am, Glow Seed deserves this. Buttercup deserves this." She took a deep breath and looked up to meet Ornate's eyes. "So thank you, and... I'm sorry. Sorry for being so ugly to you. For being so wrong."
"Daisy..." Ornate's words failed her. "I..."
"You don't have to say anything," Daisy interrupted. "I'm sure it would be too kind if you did. I've been a horrible guest while you've remained a civil host. I suppose it shows which of us is the true noble, and which is still playing make-believe. I'm such a foal." She finished the statement with a jaded sigh.
"You're not a foal," Ornate argued, getting a wry smile.
"I'm afraid we'll have to disagree on that, Mrs. Garden," the earth mare said as she rose from her seat. "Now, I'm sure I've taken up more than enough of your time for the day, and made a big enough spectacle of myself, so I think it'd be for the best if I leave now."
"Wait-!"
"I'll talk to Buttercup about her behavior, though I can't promise anything. She really is a strong-willed filly. And I'll tell my husband about Sunshine." She reached the entrance before halting. "... I pick Buttercup up from the kindergarten every Monday and Friday, if you need to talk to me again, we can meet up then."
With a final goodbye, Daisy showed herself out, leaving Ornate alone in her kitchen with nothing but her thoughts and a half-full kettle of lukewarm water.
"You think she's sick or something?" Twinkleshine asks from around her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, referring to the glaring green filly at the picnic table two away from ours. The stare is so intense that it's emptied the tables between us, clearing a path for Buttercup's ire.
"I hope so," Lemon Heart comments, getting Lyra to nod in agreement and try to match Buttercup's glare for a few seconds before giving up and going back to her carrot sticks.
I just sigh and take another bite of my cucumber sandwich. I could really use a cookie right now, but I'm trying to save it for a proper dessert. Mr. Scatter just sent us out for lunch, and our little group, sans Blueblood, has settled at our usual spot. The kindergarten doesn't have any playground equipment, but there's plenty of picnic tables so the foals can get fresh air while they eat.
It'd be enjoyable if not for the daggers being glared our way. "Just ignore her," I comment. "She's not sick, just angry about something."
"But about what?" Moondancer wonders, fidgeting under the distant filly's anger. "Is she still mad about not getting your last bite of ice cream? That was days ago, and it wasn't even hers to begin with."
"Maybe," I say with a shrug. Honestly, I can't be bothered with Buttercup's attitude right now. As long as she's not picking on anypony, it's a notable improvement from what she's up to most of the time. She hasn't been bothering me since the ice cream incident five days ago, but that doesn't mean she's stopped. As a matter of fact, she's actually gotten worse towards the other students, as if she's redirecting the harassment meant for me to the rest of the class instead. Twilight has already been reduced to tears twice this week by the green bully.
One thin silver lining to all of this is that Buttercup's finally caught the attention of our oblivious teacher, and Mr. Scatter has begun catching her in the act of tormenting others more often. He's given her more than a few stern warnings and has even resorted to giving her an assigned seat, something none of the rest of us have, front and center so he can keep a better eye on her.
None of that has fixed whatever the underlying issue is, however, and the filly is still full to the brim with anger. With another sigh, I finish my sandwich and smile lightly. Finally, I've earned my reward for being patient, pulling the chocolate chip cookie from my lunch bag. Oh yeah, this'll calm my nerves.
"Should we go talk to her?" Minuette suddenly asks, tilting her head as she meets the other filly's angry eyes with her curious ones. "Maybe she just needs a friend?"
I stop right before biting down, slowly pulling the baked good from my mouth to stare incredulously at my blue friend along with the rest of the girls.
Minuette moves her inquiring eyes to us and wrinkles her muzzle. "What?"
"Are you foaling with us, Minny? Like really? Be friends with that?" Lyra questions, pointing over to the offending pony. "Buttercup needs a kick in the flank, not a friend."
"I agree," I begin. "Well, not about the kicking thing, but with being her friend. Ponies have tried, but she's just too mean to make friends." Maybe if she could get over whatever it is that makes her that way, it could work, but from what little I can piece together from conversations between grownups when they didn't think I was listening, that's something only Buttercup's mom can fix.
"Well, maybe they just aren't trying hard enough," counters Minuette stubbornly, getting Moondancer to pipe up.
"I don't know... You didn't see her with the ice cream. She was really, really mean."
"She must really like ice cream," Minuette notes absently. "We should get her some."
"Okay, now I know you're going crazy," Lemon Heart states. "How would we even give her ice cream before it melted?"
The blue unicorn shrugs, then looks over as Twinkleshine pats her shoulder understandingly. "I think you're thinking too hard. It's really nice, but I don't think you should worry about Buttercup so much. If she wanted friends, she would be nicer."
Minuette looks ready to argue, but I cut her off. "Whether she needs a friend or not, there's nothing you can do right now, so hurry and finish your lunch. Break's almost over."
The candid remark does the trick as the bubbly foal heaves a sigh and goes back to eating. As much as I hate seeing any of my friends so dejected, I know that trying to make friends with Buttercup would only cause Minuette more pain down the road. No, it's for the best if we all just leave the green bully alone until something changes for the better.
What that could be, I don't know, but it probably won't be happening any time soon, so it's best not to worry. For now, I'm just going to enjoy this cookie.
...I need another cookie. Seriously, how does Mom expect me to deal with such hostility point blank without even bringing me a baker's dozen of her finest double chocolate chip? And a nap, too, while we're at it, since I'm pooped after a long day of magic kindergarten.
I've actually been getting some practice in alongside the other students during class since the incident at the diner, even if it's only a little bit. It's definitely easier to focus at home where the air isn't filled with the magic of a bunch of other foals, but being able to at least wiggle a downy feather across the desk while my classmates are whipping around marbles is a clear improvement, even if it does leave me wiped at the end of the day.
It also gives me a bit of a headache, my magical exhaustion seemingly compounding the effects the magic of others has on me.
Yep, a nap and some sugar would be great right about now, munching on cookies while resting on Mom's back. Maybe I could even give one to Buttercup to try and appease her for a bit. It'd be a small price to pay to stop the glaring. Instead, I have to endure as our mothers speak, which is a surprise in itself.
It was certainly a strange sight to see my mom and Buttercup's talking to each other as I stepped outside, both because I'd never seen them talk, and because the black maned mare was smiling lightly instead of the scowl she wore the few times she looked our way. That expression, it seems, has been adopted by her daughter, and surprisingly, my brother.
From the moment the rest of our friends moved on, confusion on their faces as they pondered why Buttercup and her mom hadn't left as soon as the filly was out of the building like usual, Blueblood has been glaring at her while she has kept her gaze focused mainly on me, flicking it only occasionally to the colt. Leaning into his side is just as much for my comfort as it is preparedness in case he tries to tackle Buttercup and I need to restrain him.
"I'm glad to hear things have worked out so well for Glow Seed. I had a feeling he'd get along with my brother," Mom is saying with an easy smile.
Daisy Care, as my mom called her, returns the smile, tired, but genuine. "Yes, Glow's quite taken with him. Why, with the way he talks about Sunlight, you'd think the two were best friends or brothers."
Mom giggles. "Yes, I got a similar impression from Sunlight's letter thanking me for sending such a competent assistant his way."
Daisy's smile seems to lose some of it's fatigue at hearing that. "It's good to know his efforts are being appreciated." The mare then looks down at us foals and asks, "And how are the twins? Doing well, I hope."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Scatter has told me that Blueblood here has really been impressing him with how quickly he's advancing in class," Mom preens. "And Pureblood has been getting much better at levitating her quill."
His attention pulled away from Buttercup at the mention of his name, Bluey looks up and beams. "Yeah, I'm the best in the whole class. I can lift three metal balls at the same time now."
"Wow, that is impressive," Daisy compliments indulgently. "Though I shouldn't be surprised. Your magic was quite... spectacular when you were just a little surging foal."
"Hmm? How'd you know that?" I question curiously as I look up.
"Not that I'd expect you to remember; you were both so young back then, but I used to work for your parents," she explains. "And Blueblood here gave me quite the workout on most days, chasing him throughout the manor."
Blueblood is practically glowing under what he perceives as a compliment while I'm busy scouring my memories. I'll admit that memorizing the faces of the many ponies that cared for us in those days wasn't very high on my priorities, what with just recently being reborn and finding myself with a new family, but I'm still surprised I hadn't recognized this mare after having seen her so many times.
Then something clicks and I squint, the resulting blurred image drudging up memories of a giggling baby Blueblood clapping his hooves at a silly-faced mare. "Scrunchy Nose!" I blurt without thinking. "You used to take care of us!"
Everypony is a different degree of surprised by my outburst, Daisy being the most so. "Er, yes, I was a nanny," she says haltingly, "You... remember?"
I nod vigorously, the mare from my memories aligning more with the one before me. Her mane is styled differently, and she's not wearing any clothes, but this is definitely the nanny who could always make Bluey stop crying and laugh instead. "Mhmm! You used to make this really funny face where you crossed your eyes and scrunched your nose and your tongue would stick out the side like this." I try to demonstrate, but by the unsettled expressions I get in return, I'm not doing the face justice. "Well... you know the one."
"I certainly don't," Mom says, turning to the other mare with a raised brow and smirk. "Though it does sound quite funny."
Daisy blushes and stammers, "O-oh, it's nothing, really, just something foals seem to like. I figured it out with my little brother and sister first; I'd foalsit all the time for them while my parents worked and, well, it always made them happy."
"Now you have me really curious," Mom says. "Would you mind showing us? I'm sure the foals would appreciate it too."
At this, I'm eager while Bluey looks up to the green mare quizzically and Buttercup is watching with lips slightly parted and expression unreadable. "Yeah, make the face so Bluey will remember!" I encourage, getting Daisy to look around as if fearful of witnesses.
"I... suppose it won't hurt," she concedes squaring her shoulders. "Just this once." and then, with a preparatory exhalation, her features contort. With her nose scrunching up, eyes crossing, and tongue popping out the side of her mouth, it's just as I remember it, and if the sudden gasp from my brother is any indication, he's remembering too.
"It's you!" the colt yells, hopping up and down excitedly. "The funny pony!"
Face reverting to it's normal arrangement, Daisy smiles. "You remember too? Ha, I'd have thought you'd both have forgotten me by now."
"How'd I forget the funny pony?" Blueblood seems to ask himself incredulously. "You made me laugh all the time until... Where'd you go?"
At this, Daisy's smile becomes strained and Mom's posture becomes rigid. "Oh, I... didn't want to leave, but I, well..." the green mare struggles to find words, eyes darting around before landing on her daughter, who I now notice has gone completely still and has her mouth open in shock. "Buttercup? Are you alright?"
"You..." she whispers, lower lip quivering. "Y-you did the face... for them? For her?" Suddenly, her mouth snaps shut and she's visibly shivering. I catch just a glimpse of burning eyes before she lowers her head, messy bangs hiding them. "I want to go home," she says, voice scratchy.
"Buttercup?" her mother begins. "What's wrong?"
"I want to go home, now."
"Sweetie-"
"I wanna go home!"
The shout shocks us all and I flinch back, falling on my bottom. The filly stomps the ground hard and her horn is visibly sparking, the magic radiating off like waves of flaming oil. I yelp and scramble backwards away from the volatile mana. I don't make it far on my own before Mom scoops me and backpedals, having guessed correctly that I was hurting.
And boy, does this hurt. I screw my eyes shut and wish I was on the ground so that I could run away from the sensation of my horn being on fire.
"Buttercup, please!" I hear Daisy plead, only for Buttercup to demand louder to go home. Her magic raises with her voice and I hiss in response. Bluey is yelling now, but I can't focus on it. Can what I'm feeling right now really be from Buttercup's magic alone? Is she really strong, or is it something else? Is this her animosity that's beating against by skull like a flaming baseball bat?
Daisy tries to say something, but Mom cuts her off, telling her to go as I feel her doing the same. Slipping me unto her back, I instinctively bury my face into her mane and suppress a groan as each jostling step sends a new pulse of pain through my skull. I had the beginnings of a headache before, but now it feels like I just took a nosedive off the side of Canterlot.
I'm not sure how long it is before I'm placed gently down on a bench and Mom starts fretting over me, asking if I'm okay. I hear the word "hospital" somewhere in there and quickly right myself, forcing my head up and my wobbly legs to remain still as I say, "M'fine."
"Are you sure? Is your horn okay? Do you need some water? Oh, maybe we should go to the hospital just to be sure. You haven't had a reaction like that in-"
"I'm fine, really," I affirm, scooting away from the hoof on my cheek. It might not be entirely true, but I am feeling better since getting away from Buttercup and her sparking horn. "I'm just tired..."
Mom bites her lip for a few seconds before sighing. "Okay, we'll rest here for a minute, then go straight home," she concedes, sitting down next to me. "But if you're still not feeling well by tonight, we're going to see Dr. Mend."
She pulls me close and I don't resist, leaning into her side and closing my eyes. I nearly fall asleep right then, but movement from my other side has me cracking one eye open. Bluey is sitting there, facing me with concern clear in his expression. "You okay, sis?"
I smile tiredly and answer, "I will be." He still seems worried however, so I hold a hoof out and add, "Snuggles might help."
Before I know it, he's pressed up against my side and Mom wraps her hoof around us both. The warmth from being sandwiched between them and the droning city sounds of ponies going about their day is too much, and I find myself falling asleep within minutes.
Ornate arrived at the little café to find Daisy waiting at one of the small, round tables set out front, looking far more nervous than the pink mare had ever seen her, but after yesterday, it was understandable.
Pure had slept the entire way back home, and three hours more once she was placed in her bed. Ornate had been just about ready to whisk her filly off to the doctor before she finally woke up with a yawn. After that, she seemed perfectly healthy, if a little bleary for the rest of the night, which was enough to keep her husband from marching out of the house to do something foolish.
It was Stalwart Shield that had to remind him that he couldn't press charges against a filly and that the guards would not throw one in the dungeons no matter how much clout he had, which Ornate was infinitely grateful for. She wasn't exactly in the right state of mind herself while her daughter was unconscious in bed, and her husband's ludicrous ideas weren't sounding altogether unreasonable at the time.
Luckily, she had managed to get her head straight and remind herself that Buttercup was just a filly no older than her own and that whatever led to the outburst outside of school, and no doubt her aggressive behavior in it, would not be solved with harsh punishments. No, whatever her problems were, they'd have to be resolved with words and understanding.
This is exactly what Ornate had intended to bring up with Daisy Care when a message arrived at the manor inviting her to this place the next day.
"Daisy," Ornate said as she approached the table. "How have you been?"
"Mrs. Garden-" the green mare began, startled out of whatever thoughts had her so preoccupied. "I didn't notice you were here."
Ornate smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Bright pink does tend to blend into the background."
Daisy's chuckle sounded forced as she nodded. "Yes, a natural camouflage to be sure. Please, sit, I just ordered a pot of coffee a bit ago, I hope you don't mind."
"Coffee would be wonderful right now," Ornate informed, taking a seat. "You never did answer my question, though. How are you?"
"Good, good," said Daisy, placing her hooves on the tablecloth to smooth out wrinkles that didn't even exist. "I... maybe didn't get the best night sleep after yesterday's... incident, but I'm awake."
"I know what you mean," Ornate said. "Even after Pure woke up, the nerves from it all made sleep hard."
Daisy gulped. "Is... is she alright?"
"Pureblood? Yes. She just needed some rest is all, though it really did take it out of her."
"... I'm sorry."
Ornate doesn't say anything to that, and the two wait in silence for the waiter to arrive with a pot of coffee and some cups. Daisy quickly busied herself with pouring them each a cup.
Ornate gave her thanks and sipped at her beverage, welcoming the burning sensation as much as the caffeine to perk her up. Daisy didn't drink, instead opting to stare into the dark liquid. "I don't know what to do with her," the green mare suddenly spoke. "Mr. Scatter has talked to me already about Buttercup's behavior towards the other foals, and I've tried to talk to her about it, but it's like everything I say just makes her angrier. I had hoped that maybe it was just in response to her father being out of the house more since he got his new job, that she'd adjust to the change, but I don't know anymore."
"Have you thought about having her speak to a professional?" Ornate asked, expecting the weak glare she received, but still feeling the need to say it. "It might help."
"My daughter isn't crazy. She doesn't need to see a foal psychiatrist."
"I never said she was, but it's obvious there are issues she needs to work out, and if she's not willing to share them with you, then maybe a-"
"If it wasn't me, then she'd always tell her father, but she's barely spoken two words to him since last night," Daisy interjected. "Still more than the silent treatment I've gotten, but I think it's safe to assume she won't be willing to talk to anypony else about this."
Ornate would argue, but the other mare sounded so certain that to contradict her would no doubt be taken as an insult. It would be paramount to saying that she or some complete stranger knew Buttercup better than her own mother.
Instead, the blonde maned mare sighed and squared her shoulders. "Then perhaps we should go with my father-in-law's plan."
Daisy raised a brow. "And what's that?"
Maintaining her posture, Ornate tried to answer with as much confidence as she could muster. "I don't know."
"... What?"
"He... spent a lot of time talking to Pure, and after, he said he knew what had to be done. He wouldn't give me the specifics, but he said that if you came to the manor tomorrow and bring Buttercup, then he knew how to work out the rest."
"And you trust him?" Daisy asked disbelievingly. "He's a retired guard; not exactly a background that promotes foal rearing."
"He did well enough with my husband," Ornate mumbled with a blush before trying to regain her conviction. "Besides, at this point, we don't have any other options. I certainly don't have any ideas, and you refuse to take your daughter to a professional, and, well, Stalwart Shield has proven himself more than capable of handling the twins since moving in with us so, at least this time, I'm willing to trust him."
Daisy still looked unconvinced, so Ornate used her trump card. "You still owe me for Glow Seed's job with my brother."
The other mare jerked back as if struck, then narrowed her eyes. "That's dirty..."
"And true," Ornate countered. "Please... just do this. Let us at least try."
Daisy looks conflicted between agreeing or storming off, but after a deep breath, she sighs. "Fine, I'll take tomorrow off. What time should we be over?"
To say I'm confused would be an understatement right about now, as Grandpa Shield is having me practice the self-defense techniques he taught me yesterday. It's not the fact that I'm practicing them, or that Bluey is begrudgingly being the test dummy, or even that the techniques are specifically intended for earth ponies to use in neutralizing unicorns. No, what's odd is that this is going on while my parents have been clearly nervous all day, Grandpa is stern faced, and he's been dismissing both Mom and Dad every time they approach to talk to him in hushed tones.
I asked of course what was going on, but he simply told me to focus on my motions, and so, for the last hour, I've been moving slowly through the strikes and grapples he wanted me to. After my not so pleasant run-in with Buttercup's magic two days ago, I can kind of see why Grandpa wants me to be prepared to defend against unicorns, but it seems silly. I mean, it's not like I'm going to be attacked by any unicorn foals and need to fight them off, and the skills Grandpa wants me to learn aren't exactly going to work on grown ups when I wouldn't even be able to reach their horns.
Still, I continue to practice even if I do feel like it's a waste of a weekend. If anything, it's important to Grandpa, so I can do what he asks until everypony stops acting crazy.
"Speed up," Grandpa orders suddenly. "You've got some good muscle memory forming, but it won't mean much if you can't move at anything other than a snail's pace."
I blink. "But what if I accidentally hit Blueblood?"
Blueblood blinks as well. "Yeah, what if she hits me?"
"You get hit," Grandpa says with a shrug. "Come on, lad, don't you trust your sister?"
"Well yeah," Bluey answers hesitantly, looking back at me. "Um, okay, you can go faster, but, you know, try not to..."
"Yeah," I answer stepping back a few paces. "I'll try not to hit you in the face too hard."
From there, I go through about fifty repetitions, and only smack my brother once harder than I intended. It wasn't a full swing, but even still, as the ridge of my hoof impacts directly at the base of his horn, he yelps and stumbles back. "Ow! I thought you said you weren't gonna hit hard!"
"I'm sorry," I say, quickly leaving my stance to trot over to him. "I wasn't trying to, honest."
"Well it really hurt," Bluey mumbles, watery eyes making my heart sink.
Grandpa didn't seem to share the same remorse as he comments, "Come now, lad, you're a big, strong colt, aren't you? No need to cry."
"I'm not crying," Blue protests, wiping at his eyes. "It just hurts."
"As well it should. The base of the horn is a pressure point for us unicorns. Just be glad you weren't channeling magic when it happened or it'd be worse." Grandpa stands from the sideline and approaches. "Actually, this'll serve as a good proof of concept. Try to use your magic, Blueblood."
"What? Why? I thought we were suppose to be practicing hoof fighting?" the colt asks with a sniff as he stood up.
"You'll see in just a moment," the stallion answers, gesturing to the ground. "Go ahead, try to pluck some grass."
Blueblood looks skeptical, as do I, but he nevertheless looks at the green carpet beneath our hooves and squints his eyes. His horn starts to glow, but both in its appearance and feel, its flickering, and the aura that wraps around a patch of grass is wobbling like gelatin in an earthquake. His tongue peeks out between his lips in concentration before finally managing to rip up a clump of grass.
Before it's even eye-level, however, half of the blades have slipped from his grasp and he frowns. "Why... why is it so hard?" he asks. "My magic feels all fuzzy."
"It'll wear off in a few minutes," Grandpa assured, patting the colt's back and looking to me. "And now you see what a few properly placed strikes can do. When subduing suspects, we guards generally try not to maim them, and so have developed fighting techniques that can neutralize, but not permanently disable."
Before anymore can be said, a servant arrives at the garden and announces that guests had arrived. While Grandpa acts as if this is expected, I'm only left even more confused. On top of all the other oddities of the day, now we have ponies over? I don't remember any talk of such a thing, but then again, there hasn't been a whole lot of talking among the adults, or at least none within earshot of Bluey and me.
Just what are the grownups planning, and why do I feel nervous about finding out?
"I didn't expect your husband to be here, too," Ornate said as she welcomed the other family in.
"That isn't a problem is it?" Daisy asked.
"Of course not," was the response as she held out her hoof to the stallion.
He had a slight build and was a very light yellow, his mane being only a shade or two lighter. The faded colors made his nervous, bright green eyes stand out starkly as he gave a small smile and met her hoof with his own. "It's uh, a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Garden. I've... heard a lot about you."
While she had no doubt that was true considering what his wife had thought of her not long ago, Ornate instead chose to laugh lightly. "Working with Sunlight, I don't doubt it. I hope my brother's been treating you well."
"Oh, of course!" the stallion said, demeanor suddenly becoming much more lax. "He's a great boss."
"I'm glad," Ornate responded, "He thinks you're a great employee as well, more of a partner, really."
While the stallion beamed, there was a grumble from behind his leg, and Ornate's eyes were drawn to the small filly sitting behind them, front hooves crossed and scowl on her face.
Her father also heard it, and looked down behind him. "Buttercup," he said, taking a small step to the side and effectively removing her cover. "Why don't you say hello to the nice mare?" In response, the filly merely turned her heard and harrumphed, getting Glow Seed to sigh and Daisy to shift uncomfortably.
"Sorry," the mother said. "It's getting close to lunchtime, so I'm sure she's just hungry."
Ornate knew that was a lie, but didn't push, simply smiling instead. "That's perfect then, because Cutting Board has just prepared sandwiches for us all."
At this, the other mare perked up. "Cutting Board? I haven't had any of his food in ages." As if to punctuate the statement, her stomach growled, bringing a blush to her face.
"Missed lunch yourself, I take it?" the pink mare teased. "Well, I suppose we can all do with a light meal. Come on, they're in the kitchen."
When they made to go, Buttercup remained where she was, still grumpily looking away and refusing to listen to either of her parents. Ornate didn't comment as Glow Seed was forced to place the filly on his back, and the group went to the kitchen.
The senior Blueblood was already there, placing a couple of triangle sandwiches on a plate. "Oh, hello," the stallion began, eyes immediately going to their guests. "Sorry I didn't greet you at the door with Ornate, but I was checking on something. I'm Blueblood the sixteenth."
The smile he gave was genial, but Ornate quickly recognized it as the same he wore in front of fellow nobles he didn't particularly care for. Glow Seed didn't know this, however, and gave a far more genuine smile of his own. "Hello there, I'm Glow Seed... the first, I think."
The comment was so innocent that it melted away just a bit of the other stallion's act as he chuckled. "It's nice to meet you. Sandwich? They're watercress."
While her husband stepped forward without hesitation, his wife remained where she was, unable to make eye-contact with the noble stallion she used to work for. Ornate realized then that, though she had made her peace with the mare, her husband hadn't.
"Don't worry," she whispered into the green mare's ear. "He's not upset with you anymore. It's all in the past; we only care about the foals now, same as you." Perhaps it was a slight fib, but Daisy gave a hesitant smile and walked over to her husband who was trying to get their daughter to take a sandwich.
"Come on, Buttercup, they're good," he tried as the filly turned her nose up to the proffered snack. "You haven't eaten since your crackers and cheese, I know you're hungry."
"They really are good, sweetie," Daisy joined in, taking one of the more simple sandwiches made specifically for a foal's less developed palate. She took a nibble and hummed. "Please, Buttercup, try it for Mommy."
"Why should I?" the filly grumbled.
"Because it would make me happy," Daisy Care tried.
"I would have been happy not coming here," Buttercup countered. "But you didn't listen."
There's an uneasy look shared between Daisy and her husband, and the tension only rose when Stalwart Shield came in with the twins. The look of surprise on the foals' faces quickly dropped as the younger Blueblood sent a glare up at Buttercup, who sent one at Pureblood, who promptly directed her eyes anywhere else.
"What's she doing here?" Bluey snarled, surprisingly threatening for a tiny colt.
"Having lunch, I'd guess," his grandfather answered calmly, walking over to the counter to grab a sandwich. "Something we all should do."
"That's not what I meant!" the colt continued with a stomp of his hoof. "She hurt Pure!"
"Bluey, it's okay," Pure tried, placing a hoof on her brother's shoulder. "I'm fine."
"No!" he said, shrugging his sister off to point an accusing hoof at Buttercup. "Only bad ponies hurt good ponies! She's a bad pony!"
"Hey! I'm not the bad pony, you are!" Buttercup countered, jumping from her father's back, getting a frightened yelp from the parents. She landed safely, if not clumsily however, and continued. "You both are! You trick everypony into liking you even though you're just spoiled brats!"
The colt growled and opened his mouth to retort, but a sandwich lodged itself inside, sent via his grandfather's magic. "Eat up, lad," the old stallion said, picking up a sandwich of his own. "Hunger leads to bad tempers."
While Bluey gave a muffled protest around the bread and veggies, Buttercup laughed. "Huh, take that, stupid col-!"
"Yep, hungry foals are grumpy foals," Stalwart continued, having just filled the filly's pie hole with a triangle sandwich. "Eat up and you'll feel better."
Buttercup bit down and pulled the sandwich from her mouth, glaring at the retired guard. "Hey! Why'd you... do... that..." As she mumbled around the mouthful, she chewed, and after swallowing it down, she slowly took another bite, still glaring the entire time.
"Um, thank you," Glow Seed said, slowly looking away from his daughter as she ate. "I guess..."
"Dad, you really shouldn't make it a habit of shoving food into other's mouths," the older Blueblood commented, watching his own son eat grumpily, never taking his narrowed eyes off the green filly. "Especially foals."
"Agreed," mumbled Daisy Care, looking miffed. "That's a choking hazard waiting to happen."
"Foals aren't made of glass," the older stallion said, grabbing another sandwich and glancing down at the twins. A small smile tugged at his lips as Pure, after looking between the other young ones, opened her mouth wide. With precision aim, he launched the sandwich into the waiting maw, cutting his magic off only a third of the way there and letting the momentum carry it the rest of the distance. As Pure took a bite with a giggle, he added, "Coddling them from every possibility of danger will hurt them more in the long run. It stunts growth of character."
"Having bread forcefully lodged into ones windpipe would stunt growth more, I imagine," Blueblood grumbled. "So, father, what is it you plan on having the foals do, anyway? You've been quite tight lipped about it, and as much as I can appreciate the quiet, I'm curious."
The older stallion glared as the mares giggled lightly and Glow Seed snorted. "I changed your diapers, and you repay me with disrespectful quips. Disgraceful." When Blueblood blushed, his father smirked. "And they were ghastly diapers, too. I still don't understand how something so foul could come out of a pony."
"Dad, the children," Blueblood grit out, trying to ignore the giggles now directed at him.
"What am I going to have the little ones do?" Stalwart asked. "It's simple, they're going to work it out themselves."
"Um, excuse me?" Daisy cut in. "How, exactly? Are you going to sit them down or..."
"Don't worry about the specifics, miss," dismissed the old stallion after he swallowed down the last bite of his sandwich. "Really, you parents can stay in here and talk among yourselves while the fillies come with me to the garden."
"It's not that I don't trust you, Stalwart," Ornate said. "It's just, why wouldn't we be there? They're our foals."
"It's like I said," he answered evenly. "Foals aren't glass, and unless you've come to accept that in the last sixty seconds, I think it'd be for the best if you all stayed here."
More than one parent's alarm bell went off at that as Daisy nearly squawked and Blueblood narrowed his eyes. Glow Seed was the first to voice his concerns. "Sir, While I'm sure you're a good stallion and fine father in your own right... it sounds like you're going to put my daughter in danger."
"Danger?" Stalwart interrupted before giving a loud belly-laugh. "I'm not running them through a gauntlet, son, and I'll be there the whole time. They won't be in danger, but you're all young and relatively new parents; to you, safety scissors seem like a guillotine."
"We are not paranoid," Daisy snapped. "You're the one being suspicious here, not telling us what you have planned for our foals."
"I have to agree," Ornate said, and looking ready to add more before being cut short.
"What are you all talking about?" Buttercup said, clearly agitated after her sandwich was eaten. "Who's this old weird pony?"
"Hey! Grandpa is not weird!" the young Blueblood yelled.
"Yeah!" Pure agreed. "He's eccentric! Mommy says so!"
"Um, I thought he's crazy, sis? That's what Daddy always says."
"Well, maybe he can be both."
"Ugh! You two are just as weird as him!"
"Na-ah! You're weird and mean and stupid!"
"Blueblood!" Ornate called disapprovingly.
"You've got dooky for brains!"
"Buttercup!" Daisy gasped.
"Case and point," Stalwart commented dryly. "It's just name calling, and here you all are acting like curses are being used."
"And your point?" the senior Blueblood questioned. "Are you suggesting we just let the little ones yell at each other?"
"Couldn't hurt," he answered back. "Telling them to bottle it up certainly won't help."
"Is... is that what you have planned?" Ornate started hesitantly. "To let the children talk out their problems without us there to... censor them?"
"That's the basics, yes," said the stallion with a nod. "Though, since the problem is mostly between Pure and Buttercup, I feel Blueblood should stay out of it. Can't have the twins tag teaming the lass."
"Um, it's not that I can't see that working," Glow Seed piped up. "But what about Buttercup's magic? I mean, last time she got agitated, it caused... problems, right?"
"I'll be supervising. There's no need to worry."
While there were plenty of skeptical faces, and more than one mouth opened to speak out against the old stallion, they were all beat by a quiet voice.
"I'll talk with her," Pureblood said, staring directly into the other filly's eyes for the first time. "If she wants to."
"I don't," Buttercup snapped, crossing her hooves. "I just want to go home."
"Yeah, because she a big chicken," Bluey said with a snicker. "Pure would talk her ears off with all the big dictionary words she knows."
"I'm not a chicken!" the green filly screeched, jumping up. "I'll talk right here, right now! Bring it!"
"See," Stalwart said with a smirk. "They're chomping at the bit to have a little talk."
Ornate bit her lip as she watched the foals glare. "I don't know..."
"I'm having doubts, as well," commented Daisy Care.
Then, surprisingly, Blueblood gave his opinion. "Fine, let the foals talk it out."
While the mothers snapped surprised looks at the stallion, Glow Seed nodded. "I agree. It might help," he said. "I doubt it could hurt, at least."
Stalwart tapped a hoof off the floor. "There ya go! Really now, I know you ladies are worried, but I promise you, things will work out just fine. Better, in fact."
It was Ornate who caved first with a sigh. "Fine, I'll trust you know what you're doing," she said before looking to the other mare. "How about you, Daisy?"
Daisy looked around the room, at the other adults and the foals, and gave a sigh of her own. "Okay, if it can help settle things between the foals, I suppose I can trust Mr. Shield." She leveled a hard look at the stallion. "But if anything bad happens, retired guard or not, I'm tossing you through a window."
"On the first floor, I hope," the stallion said easily, not worried at all. "These old bones can't handle three story falls like they used to."
The mare huffed, but still smiled when she kneeled down to her daughter's level, whispering for her to behave and to come find her if anything happened.
With that, Bluey was lifted onto his father's back despite his protests against leaving his sister with Buttercup, and the group of adults left for the lounge. Stalwart watched them go for a few seconds before turning his attention to the two fillies still in the kitchen.
"Well, you two, let's go get suited up and get to talking."
Pureblood tilted her head. "Suited up?"
Grandpa is so dead.
That thought continuously runs through my head even as I push the protective headband up away from my eyes. Apparently, it, along with the four padded hoof gloves, are from my dad's foalhood when Grandpa Shield and other members of the guard had their sons spar.
The stallion seems pretty happy to be getting more use out of them as Buttercup sits across from me, shaking a gloved hoof in confusion. "What are these? I thought we were gonna talk?"
"You will be," Grandpa assures. "Those are just for your safety."
While Buttercup still seems confused by what he's implying, I have a pretty good guess, which is why I'm afraid of what Mom and Mrs. Care are going to do to Grandpa when they find out. Well, at least now I know why the stallion had me practice fighting techniques for going up against unicorns. Hopefully I won't have to use them.
"Whatever," Buttercup eventually mutters, glaring at me. "Lets just talk so I can go home."
"I'm not stopping you," Grandpa says, stepping back and nodding. "Go ahead, say what you want, you won't get into any trouble from me. That goes for you, as well, Pureblood."
"Grandpa, I don't know..."
"You're spoiled," Buttercup interrupts. "You get everything you want, when you want. Cookies, toys, books, and you never even have to wait for birthdays."
I blink, then frown, remembering the diner. "I already told you, I'm not spoiled."
"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you share your ice cream?" she counters, apparently remembering the same day as me. "You probably have ice cream all the time, but I don't. All I wanted was one spoonful, and you still didn't give it to me."
"That's because you were being mean," I shoot back. "You're always mean."
Her muzzle scrunches. "I'm not always mean."
"Then why don't you have any friends?"
She sputters. "I- I have friends!"
"Not at the kindergarten." I know it's harsh, but I can't help but smirk at her stricken expression.
It quickly changes to fury however, as she yells, "That's because you and your stupid brother make everypony not like me!"
"What? No we don't!"
"Yeahah! Everypony likes the two of you for no reason, and then you make them not like me!"
"That doesn't happen at all!" I shout back, but she just stomps her hoof.
"Yes you do! You even do it to Mama!"
"Wha-?"
"Mama used to say you were bad, but now she's taking your side!" She starts stumping towards me, horn beginning to spark, and I flinch back. "She even makes the silly face for you! That's supposed to be for me!"
"Buttercup, stop-"
"I won't let you take Mama!"
I don't know what she has planned. I can hardly focus at all on anything other than that glowing horn hovering above me as I try to shrink down and away. It keeps advancing, however, and my head is subjected to a familiar pain. A distant part of my mind asks why Grandpa isn't helping, and I forcefully crack open an eyes to search for him.
He's sitting there, grim-faced and tense, but unmoving. Buttercup is speaking, saying something about me being weak, and I feel her padded hoof press hard into my cheek, pushing me closer to the dirt. I squint up to her and growl, instinct suddenly taking over, demanding that the pain be stopped.
And with a hard thwack, it does.
I hardly realize what has happened, having to piece together the events through observations after the fact. My hoof is raised up and out while Buttercup stumbles back, protective headgear lopsided. She lands on her backside and rubs her head right under her horn, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.
"You... you hit me," she says, shocked and looking over at Grandpa. "She hit me."
The stallion nods. "She did."
"Aren't you going to yell at her?" she demands as I stumble back to my hooves.
Grandpa shrugs. "This is between you two. You're here to work out your differences. Besides, you looked about ready to attack Pureblood before she defended herself."
"Crying over a tap," I find myself saying with a smirk as the throbbing in my skull dulls. "Maybe you're the weak filly instead of me."
Honestly, I don't know why I said it when I should be trying to defuse the situation, but the clenched jaw and snort it gets from the green filly makes my heart start pumping harder. This is the filly who has picked and prodded at me since I started magic kindergarten. This is the one who has teased and harassed all of my friends at least once. This is the filly who's only ever gotten stern talking-to's for all of the bad things she's done.
And now she's charging at me with a scream, nary a spark to be seen on her horn. In the next second, she's digging a furrow in the dirt with her face as I step to the side and drive her headfirst into the lawn. She lifts her head up and spits out a clump of sod, and I laugh. Honest laughter at this little filly's expense, and I can't regret it at all.
What air I have left for laughs is forced from my lungs however, as Buttercup drives her back hooves into my chest from her prone position. It's not nearly as structured as the kick I gave Bronze Pauldron all that time ago, and her hooves are padded, but I'm also not a big earth pony colt, and end up on my back, heaving.
"Huh, not so tough when you don't have ponies to hide behind," Buttercup comments, standing up. "You can't use your brother, or your friends, or the teacher to keep yourself safe. You can't make Mama protect you."
"I... don't use anypony," I huff, sitting up and catching my breath. "Because I don't need protection. Especially not from a bully who's too crazy to know she is one."
She growls, lowering her head. Whatever magic she intended to summon comes out as a pathetic flicker, and she screws her face up in concentration. After another failed attempt, she looks up, confused. "Wha- what happened to my horn?"
I smile thinly. "That tap I gave to your head is what happened. The headband wasn't enough to protect your magic."
"You... you took my magic?" She says, awe and fear mingling in here voice as her eyes widen. Suddenly, they narrow. "Give it back."
I raise a brow. "I can't."
"I said give it back!" she yells, charging once again. At first, I think she hasn't learned her lesson from the first time she ate dirt, and prepare to toss her down again, but just as I step to the side, she stops and spins around, aiming another kick at my chest.
The change in tactics still isn't enough to catch me by surprise though, as I quickly rear up and meet her back hooves with my front ones, the pair colliding with a loud thunk. The impact sends tremors up my limbs, but I grit my teeth and start standing as high as I can on two legs. With her hooves propped against mine, by moving up and back, I make her over extend, her front legs straightening until she flops onto her belly.
In the next second, I'm falling onto her back and hooking my forelegs under hers, placing my hooves on the back of her neck. "Let go!" she screams, trying, and failing to escape from my hold. "Let go, stealer!"
"Stealer? I'm not a thief!" I argue, grunting as I fight to keep the filly pinned.
"You stole my magic!" she counters, managing to roll the both of us on our sides. "You're trying to steal Mama!"
"No I'm not!" I growl, but yelp as, with a clear effort, Buttercup throws her head back against my hold and manages to smash the top of her skull into my jaw. Stunned as I am, I fail to keep Buttercup restrained as she scrambles out of my grasp. She's up a second before me, and tackles into my chest.
I grunt, but bring my forelegs up to guard my face as she sloppily tries to hit me. Even with the gloves, the blows she's raining down sting.
"Liar! Liar! Li- ah!" I buck my hips and she teeters sideways. In the next instant, we've switched positions with me on top, and I quickly pin her hooves to her chest. "I'm not trying to take your mom, and your magic will come back on its own!" I rush to explain to the struggling filly. "Please! stop fighting before you get hurt!"
"No!" she screeches. "You're a liar! I won't let you take Mama away!"
"I don't want your mom! I already have one!"
"Then why is she taking your side!?" she accuses, struggling harder.
"I don't know!" I blurt. "I've only talked to her the one time!"
"You used magic on her head!"
"But you said I can't do magic!"
"No!"
"No? No what!?"
"Nooo!" she moans again, breathing heavily with her eyes squeezed shut. Her chest is heaving and tears begin to bead up at the corners of her eyes.
"Buttercup, please believe me! I don't want to steal your mom! I don't know why she's being nice all of a sudden! Maybe she's friends with my mom now. I don't know," I press on as her struggles start to slow. "Maybe she just wants you to stop being angry all the time."
"I'm- I'm not-"
"Maybe she wants you to have friends," I continue, trying to put myself in the shoes of this filly's mother. "I'm sorry, Buttercup. I'm sorry you don't like me. I'm sorry it makes you so angry that you can't be nice to the other foals at school."
"W-what?" Finally, she opens her eyes and looks into mine.
"I don't know if I'm the only reason, but I know I make you angry, and then you take that anger out on others, and then they're too afraid to try and be your friends." When she stops fighting, I slowly stand and step back, letting her sit up. "I'm sorry it's like that, but it's not my fault."
"Y-yes it is," she says petulantly, sniffling. "Everything is your fault."
"No it's not," I counter. "You didn't even know me when you picked on Twilight that first day."
"That was 'cause she was showing off."
"She wasn't and you nearly made her cry."
"She's a big foal then."
"And now she's scared of you," I say with narrowed eyes. "And her friends don't like you, either."
"They're stupid anyway-"
"And the rest of the class? Are they stupid, too? Or is it because you picked on them that they don't sit with you at lunch?"
"That's because you and your brother-" she tries, but I cut her off.
"We don't make you be mean. Even if you're mad at me because I'm a spoiled brat, I don't make you take it out on others," I snap, patience slipping for moment. I don't even know why I'm trying to talk to this girl who's been nothing but cruel since I've known her. It'd be much easy to kick her butt so she's too afraid to bother me again.
But that wouldn't be right, so I breathe deep and try to get through to her. "I don't choose how you act, Buttercup. Nopony does but you. The most I can do is the same as Mr. Scatter or even your mom; I can ask you to please stop being so awful, and hope you just listen for once."
"Yeah? And what would be the point?" she sneers, snorting wetly to clear her sinuses. "If I'm nice, then ponies will just use me. That's all ponies do; use nice ponies to make things easier for themselves, and then throw you out when you stop being nice. Mama says; and Daddy is the nicest pony ever, and he was still fired from a whole bunch of jobs. If I'm nice, I'll just be used by some rich pony... like you."
"Buttercup..." I breathe, shocked. "That's not- I wouldn't-"
"Your mom and dad did," she hisses. "They fired Mama even though she's good. S-she made the silly face for you and Blueblood... Blueblood even said he liked her, but she was still fired."
"... That was wrong," I say, getting her to tilt her head in confusion. Even I'm a little shocked at the revelation. "My parents were wrong to do that. Your mom was a good nanny; she never did anything bad to us." And I mean it too. As far as I can tell, Daisy Care is a nice enough mare, and I can't imagine why she would have been fired. My parents, as wonderful as they often are, made a mistake.
"You think... your parents are wrong?" Buttercup says haltingly. "But they're your parents."
"And they messed up," I say with a small nod. "Still, they may have been wrong for firing your mom, but that doesn't change that it's wrong for you to treat ponies like you have. Two wrongs don't make a right."
Buttercup actually huffs at this. "Daddy says that too, and I don't know what he means."
"It means that just because somepony else does something bad to you, it doesn't mean you should do bad stuff too," I try, but she just squints.
"That's stupid," she declares. "What are you supposed to do if somepony is doing bad stuff to you then? Let them?"
"You try to get them to stop another way, like going to the teacher or trying to talk to them," I say, racking my brain. I didn't expect to talk about conflict resolution with a filly today, especially after a fight and with a sore jaw. "And besides, this isn't about just being mean to the other pony; you've been being mean to a bunch of ponies. If I'm the only one who is actually bad, why do you have to pick on everypony in class?"
She crosses her hooves and looks away. "I'm not mean to everypony-"
"And when you are mean, what did those other ponies do?" I press. "Did they fight back?"
"They ran to the teacher like big foals," she growls.
"And then he made you stop picking on them," I say triumphantly, getting her to snap her eyes to me. "See, they didn't have to do another wrong to stop you. They told the teacher like they were supposed to. Like I said, two wrongs don't make a right. Only a right makes a right."
"You're weird," she declares.
"But right," I press. "Listen, nopony will use you if you act nice. Maybe it happens, but that's not how things are most of the time. I'm nice to all of my friends, and they don't use me. And I don't use them just because they're nice. Mr. Scatter is nice too, and he's not being used."
"But Mama and Daddy..." she whispers meekly.
"Are nice," I say. "And your dad has a new job now with Uncle Sunlight." I remember that tidbit from our mother's conversation the other day. "Your Mom was saying he was really happy, too. If being nice was bad, how would that be?"
Buttercup is tight lipped and doesn't give an answer.
I sigh and look at my hoof tracing a circle in the grass. "You know, yesterday, when you were giving us all that mean look at lunch... We were talking about you."
"Making fun of me?" she accuses.
"No," I answer. "Mostly just wondering... wondering why you were so angry. Mineutte thought it was because you didn't have any friends."
"You can tell the blue airhead-" Buttercup starts, but I cut her off.
"She wanted to be your friend."
That gives the green filly pause. "She wanted to be my... friend?"
I nod, feeling some guilt as I said this next part. "Yeah, but I told her that if you wanted a friend, you'd be nicer to ponies, so she shouldn't waste her time." I chuckle forcefully. "She, ah, she thought maybe giving you ice cream would do the trick."
"You told her... not to try and be my friend," she says slowly.
I nod again. "I did."
"Why?"
"Why?" I echo. "It's like I said. You were always being mean. She thought you were mean because you didn't have a friend, but, well..."
"You really are a jerk."
"Hey!" I counter a little defensively. "Maybe I was a little worried, huh? Maybe I was afraid you'd just make Minuette cry if she tried to be nice to you."
"I wouldn't have-"
"Wouldn't you?" I snap before breathing in. "Star Bright tried to be your friend once, right? How'd that end?"
Buttercup's face burns. "I... didn't mean to make her run off like that. She couldn't pick up two marbles at once, and I was just trying to help."
"By shouting that she was an idiot for the whole class to hear," I comment dryly.
"I tried getting her to do it, for, like, ten minutes," she protests, voice rising. "I got a little angry, okay?!"
"Okay, okay, I understand," I quickly say, trying to placate the filly as she stands. "We all get frustrated at times, that's fine. But you have to admit that how you responded wasn't right."
She snorts, but looks away. "Fine... I was meaner than I should have been... even if Star was the one sucking."
I wince. "That's a... start."
"Start? Start to what?"
I shrug. "Maybe... making friends?"
She looks at my like I'm crazy. "What? With you?"
Rubbing one foreleg over the other, I swallow down the denial and say, "We could be... I guess."
Suddenly, she bursts into laughter, amusement traced with cruelty. "Yeah right!" she says. "Like that'd ever happen!"
I blush. "Not if you're going to be a jerk about it!"
"Like I'm ever gonna be friends with a spoiled princess," she states, looking down her nose at me in a way that just makes me want to buck her in the face. "You might be tougher than I thought, you can fight pretty good for a prissy filly, but us being friends...?" Her expression flickers for a second to something I can't recognize before she glances away. "It's too late for that."
Letting a long breath from my nostrils. "Can we at least not be, like, mortal enemies then?" I ask. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty tired of all the barbed remarks during class."
"Barbed remarks?"
"Mean words," I clarify. "Like saying stuff and pretending it's a cough, or making fun of me behind my back because I'm not doing magic."
"Why should I?" she questions.
"You wouldn't get in trouble with Mr. Scatter as much," I offer. "And it's not like it helps you anyway. What do you get from saying stuff like that?"
"A laugh," she immediately says, but rolls her eyes when I glare. "Okay, fine, I won't pick on you anymore. Not like I was doin' it a lot anyways, what with Mr. Scatters watching me all the time now."
"If you start being nicer at school, maybe he'll start leaving you alone more," I muse. "Plus you'd get friends."
"Whatever," she mumbles. "Like I need friends... maybe if Minuette brings me ice cream."
I smirk. "Don't know how she would manage without it melting."
"Just means she's really serious if she does," Buttercup responds.
After a second, we both laugh a little. Not loud or long, but real and without malice. "Well, if anypony can do it, it'd be Minuette," I say. "She's crazy like that."
"Not sure I'd want a crazy friend."
"I don't think you can be too picky in your position."
"Shut up," she says, though the heat is gone.
"Sounds like you two have come to a rapport," Grandpa Shield suddenly comments from where he's standing off to the side. "See, I knew all you needed was a good talk."
"And a fight. right?" I add for him, a little miffed at what he put me through. "Guess I know why you didn't want anypony else here."
He smiles in the face of the accusation. "Well, you certainly can't argue with the results."
"What are you talking about?" Buttercup cuts in with a raised brow as she looks at the stallion. "Are you saying... you wanted us to fight?" She looks at her padded hooves. "Is that why you made us wear these stupid things?"
When Grandpa only smiles wide and laughs, both us fillies glare.
Then Buttercup shut him up with one little sentence. "I'm telling."
When the adults found out, Stalwart Shield was lucky to only get a black eye from Daisy Care.
As for Ornate, she was so furious that she demanded the old stallion leave the manor until she could cool down, leading to the retired guard spending a week at the Canterlot barracks with Celestia's permission.
Despite the anger however, none of the parents could deny the results of Stalwart's unorthodox methods as the two fillies who once hated each other no longer fought and Buttercup's behavior and attitude improved remarkably. The green filly no longer garnered complaints from her classmates, and even began making friends.
Never with Pureblood, but there was something almost like respect between the two, and they could stomach each other's presence when brought together by their shared friendship with Minuette.
From then on, Magic Kindergarten became far more enjoyable for both the students and teacher alike, and seemed to end far too quickly.
"Oh, I'm so nervous," Moondancer says, shifting in her seat. "I don't know if I want it to be my turn already or if I want to run away as fast as I can."
"Don't worry, you'll do fine," I comment, looking around the room at all the other fillies and colts. Many of them are in the same state as my friend, shifting with nervous energy in the small, foal-sized chairs lining the space. Parents have been asked to wait in a different room, and I can't help but think that's part of the test. Parents are a comfort, and Dad had mentioned part of this test was to see how well prospective students can perform under pressure. Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns is the most prestigious magic academy in Equestria, and they only want the most gifted, mature ponies to enter.
Seems like a stupid criteria to me, expecting foals not to act their age, but then again, maybe there is a reason I don't know about. This is Aunt Celestia's school, after all, so I'm sure there is ancient wisdom behind everything.
"I want it to be my turn so I can be accepted already," Bluey says dryly, head propped up by the hoof against his cheek. "I don't even know why I have to take the stupid test; Aunty should just let me in."
"You know she can't do that," I chide. "Everypony has to be treated equally. Aunt Celestia can't show favoritism."
"It wouldn't be favor-whatever," answers Blueblood, sitting up straight and jutting out his chin. "I was the best student in our whole kindergarten class, so why not just let me in here?"
Well, he had a point there. He was top of the class, followed by a tied Moondancer and Buttercup, then Twilight Sparkle, all of whom are here for the entrance exam. Our other friends weren't trying this year as unicorns can apply to Celestia's School at any level. They'll be attending regular classes, same as me, for now.
All this besides, I still say, "If you're so confident you'll pass, what does it matter?"
Blueblood rolls his eyes. "Because it's boring. We only have a couple more weeks before we go back to school, why should I have to waste a whole day sitting here when I could be at home or playing with friends?"
"You can support our friends then like me," I suggest. "Moondancer and Twilight are really nervous."
"Moondancer will do fine," he dismisses, getting the beige filly to blush. "She's almost as good as me. As for Twilight... she seems okay."
Said filly is sitting in the corner, opting to be alone and hide behind a large book. I frown and contemplate going over to try talking to her again when Blueblood's name is called. "Finally," he says loudly, hopping off the short chair. "Took long enough."
"It's only been, like, twenty minutes," I mumble with a roll of my eyes, getting my brother to nod.
"Yeah, I know. Forever," he answers, heading towards the door.
"Good luck," Moondancer calls after him weakly, getting the colt to raise his nose a little.
"Won't need it," he says, then adds, "... but thanks."
As he walks, he takes a moment to send a quick glare at Buttercup, who is sitting opposite of us, and she returns it. I sigh tiredly at the hostile exchange and shake my head. The truce between us has held well enough and made kindergarten way more enjoyable, but Blueblood and the filly now take every opportunity to challenge each other. Their little rivalry is what has pushed them both to the top of the class, and this test is yet another competition to prove who is better.
"So, how do you think he'll do?" Moondancer asks.
"He'll pass," I say instantly. "He's the strongest magic user in our class."
"Buttercup will pass too," says the beige filly, sending fleeting glances over at the scowling unicorn. I'm pretty sure that's just her default expression. "She's really good at magic."
I nod. "Probably. And then you'll pass." When she looks doubtful, I add, "You have better control than her, and your magic is almost as strong."
Blushing, Moondancer looks over to Twilight, and frowns. "And... what about her? She was super nervous when we tried getting her to sit with us."
"I... don't know," I admit. "I hope she passes, she's super smart and knows more about magic than any other foal in our class, but her magic is really... sporadic." Moondancer nods, maybe not fully understanding what I mean, but we fall silent. Twilight is a hard one to figure out; sometimes her magic feels really strong and she does well, but other times, if she gets distracted or fretful, she can barely lift a single marble.
With how she's been hiding behind that hardback the entire time, I have my worries about her state of mind, and secretly doubt she'll make it. Performing under pressure just isn't the filly's strong suit. For the next several minutes, Moondancer and I are mostly quiet, saying only a few words before Blueblood finally returns. Instantly, I notice the scowl pulling at his lips.
"The test is stupid," he says immediately upon sitting down. "No pony can do it."
While Moondancer tenses up, I give him a surprised look. "You... didn't pass?"
He shakes his head. "I did, but the test is still stupid."
"Wait, you couldn't do it... but you still passed?" Moondancer questioned, confused, same as me.
Blueblood shrugs and grumbles while another foal is called into the exam room. "They said I did good, even though I couldn't do it. Some stuff about potential."
"What was the test?" Moondancer blurts, biting at the end of her hoof. "If you couldn't do it, then how will I...?"
"They... said I shouldn't tell anypony," he begins slowly.
"Well then, you probably said too much already," I comment, looking at Moondancer to give her an assuring smile. "Don't worry; we know you don't have to actually do whatever they ask you to, so they probably just want you to try your best."
"Maybe," she mumbles. While we wait, I manage to get Bluey to whisper in my ear what the test is, pointing out how I'm only here to lend support to Moondancer and not to actually take the test. Technically, I got my parents to sign me up to take it so I could be in this room with my friends, but they know that I'm just going to back out when my name is called.
It's surprising to hear that there's a real-life dragon egg just on the other side of that door, and even more so that they're asking foals to try hatching it with magic. From what I understand, dragons are thinking creatures, same as ponies, so it doesn't sound exactly ethical to be using what is the equivalent of one of their young as an exam prop. I remind myself that Aunt Celestia is probably the one who designed this test and so there must be more to it then that. She wouldn't endanger a child of any species like that.
Apparently Mom and Dad were in there watching too, and I wonder why. They must have been called from the other room and brought around, but was it to encourage the foals or make them more nervous?
Eventually, Buttercup comes out, wearing a similar scowl as my brother had. I wonder briefly if she managed to make the egg shake like Bluey, but figure she probably did and is only upset that she couldn't make the dragon break out of its shell. It's not long, and Moondancer is called up.
I give her a brief hug and more words of encouragement before she heads inside, and wait with baited breath for her to come out. When she finally does, it's on shaky legs, but the bright smile is clear on her face. "I... I passed," she says, reaching the seat, then toppling sideways into it.
"Are you alright?" I ask worriedly as the filly pants some, but she simply giggles.
"Just tired," she breathes. "Even touching the egg with magic was hard; it felt almost... slick."
"I know, right?" comments Bluey. "It's like the shell was covered in slime or something. I still can't believe I couldn't make it hatch after putting so much magic into it."
"At least you still have some," Moondancer says tiredly, smile fading, "I put all of mine into it, and it barely wiggled."
"But you still passed," I chime in. "That's all that matters."
After that, it doesn't take long for my name to be called, and for me to decline taking the test. The proctor doesn't push too hard before moving onto the next name, and our little trio is left to talk among ourselves. Technically, we can head out the other set of doors to reunite with our parents and go home, but Moondancer and I want to wait for Twilight to take the test first.
When her name finally is called, she noticeably tenses behind her book, and when she puts it down, she reveals herself to be a jittering mess. I try to be extra encouraging, as does Moondancer, but our cheers only seem to make her more frazzled.
Once she's past the threshold, I heave a sigh, already planning what I'll say when she comes back out. Hopefully a reminder that our other friends and I won't be going to Celestia's school this year either will help lessen the sting of failure. While thinking this, I hear a distant, rumbling boom and notice a bright light slipping from beneath gap of the door for just a second.
Then it feels like my skull is shattered and my entire world fractures into a thousand images.
Is that screaming? I can't tell over the sound of rushing water in my ears. Why is there a waterfall in the room? Blinking rapidly, my vision changes to a dozen trailing images, choppy and blurred as I try to turn my head. Huh, strange, as much as it hurt for that first split second, I don't feel much of anything now.
Not even my own body.
Perhaps that's why I have so little control of it? The attempt at turning becomes a horribly dizzying whip that makes my eyes spin in their sockets. I try to put a phantom hoof out to catch myself, but the world drops out from under me and I feel myself in free fall.
It's probably good that I'm so numb right now, because with how jarring that impact is with the hard floor, I imagine it was very painful. Is the floor shaking or is it just me? Is that question even important right now? Nothing really seems urgent, not even the coppery taste in my mouth.
Surely there is some urgency though. Why else would Bluey be screaming like that otherwise? I know he is because he's just put my head in his hooves and I see his chest heaving and his mouth opening wide and shutting. His eyes flick between me and the room around us, but no matter how much I try to focus my attention on him, I can't hear his voice over the roaring in my ears.
Moondancer flits in and out of my sight, and I feel myself getting slightly miffed at the filly. Really, just hold still a moment so that I can see you.
This might be the last time, after all.
Wait? Why think that? I don't even know what's happening. Why wouldn't I see my best friend again? Such a silly thought, distracting me from far more important things. Like keeping fresh air in my chest. Breathing is a particularly hard challenge right now and my eyelids won't stop drooping for some reason, despite my insistence that my eyes stay on my brother.
He seems so worried, I try to tell him that whatever it was is passing. The numbness, for instance, is being replaced by a strange sensation like pins and needles, and it feels like I'm floating. That's an improvement, right? Despite the darkness creeping up from the corners of my vision, or perhaps because of it, the ceiling light over Bluey's shoulder draws my attention. It begins to glow painfully bright, but it's also familiar somehow and I can't look away.
Huh, where have I seen that before...? Oh.
I force my gaze from the light, almost fearfully despite how muted everything has become, even my emotions, and look back at Blueblood, who's now staring down at me, tears streaming down his face. It takes all of my strength to bring a hoof up and touch his cheek, and I force my darkening mind to etch every detail into memory.
It might be the last time, after all.
How could it have gone so wrong? That's what Ornate had been asking herself for the last hour as she sat with her head in her hooves. She sniffled occasionally, and her body trembled under waves of grief and worry, but she had no more tears left as she waited for the doctors to come out.
Her husband had been pacing back and forth since they had arrived, expression dark as a storm cloud as he waited just the same. An irrational part of the mare felt spite towards the stallion who was grumbling like an insane pony instead of comforting her, but she knew that wasn't fair. She hadn't tried to calm him down yet, after all.
At the moment, neither parent could focus on anything other than the state of their daughter. Another, more violent tremble racked Ornate's body when she remembered the scene from nearly two hours ago. She and Blueblood had been just outside of the room, so close to the twins, yet so far away when the whole building shook and they needed her most.
It had been so intense that she had been knocked off of her hooves and the sound of crumbling stone pinned her ears flat. By the time Blueblood had helped her up, the air was filled with panicked screams and parents were rushing into the foals' waiting room. The higher pitched shrieks from that room had Ornate's heart pounding against her rib cage. When she had gone in to see her daughter, head in her crying brother's lap, eyelids partially open to form twin slits of white, and with a trail of blood running from between her lips, Ornate's heart practically fractured her sternum.
The events between then and when they had arrived at the hospital were a blur. She knew that the Princess had been there and had taken control of the situation. She knew it was under the alicorn's order that a stretcher had been retrieved immediately and for Pureblood to be taken via her personal, pegasus-pulled chariot to the hospital.
She also knew her husband and a guard had been forced to wrestle her away from her daughter as she had been too hysterical to let anypony near.
The pink mare took a shuddering breath and lifted her head. Princess Celestia had been kind enough to take her son with her to wait in the lobby, keeping the colt from charging into the ER to be by his sister's side, so it was just her and the elder Blueblood. The grandparents would either arrive soon, or had decided to wait in the lobby. Ornate could barely care at the moment, especially when Doctor Mend came out alongside a pegasus she didn't know.
She was on her hooves immediately, bombarding the pair with questions as Blueblood did the same. "Please, calm down-" Doctor Mend tried, only to cause the stallion to go flush with rage.
"Calm down? Calm down!?" Blueblood yelled. "My daughter's in the ER after a magical disaster and you're telling me to calm down!?"
"Please, just tell me if my daughter is okay!" Ornate continued to plead, fat tears rolling down her cheek. "Please say she'll be alright."
"Pureblood has the best doctors in the city taking care of her right now," Doctor Mend tried to explain. "Celestia's personal staff, in fact."
"But is it enough?" Blueblood growled, stepping closer to the scrawnier unicorn. "Tell me what's happening to my daughter."
"She'll most likely survive," cut in the pegasus, getting between the two unicorn stallions to level a cool stare at the father. "Attacking Doctor Mend won't help increase those odds."
"Most likely," breathed Ornate, feeling lightheaded. Most likely was not one-hundred percent, and to the ears of a mother, was more terrifying than any curse. Her husband had to prop up some of her weight when her legs failed to do so. "Why most likely?"
While Doctor Mend anxiously looked away, the pegasus sighed and said, "She's undergoing procedures to treat the damage done to her mana network, but said damage is... extensive."
While Ornate's breath rattled in her throat, Blueblood squeezed his eyes shut tight and grit out, "What's the damage?"
"I'm ashamed I didn't realize sooner; it was something Professor Augur was able to spot immediately on the MRI. He's been studying these things in pegasi for years, of course, relating leyline problems with difficulties flying, but still..." mumbled Doctor Mend. "It explains her sensitivity to outside magic pressure perfectly..."
"What are you gibbering about?" snapped Blueblood.
"He's referring to the abnormally thin walls of your daughter's mana pathways," explained the pegasus. "On previous MRI's, he only mapped Pureblood's leylines and their development as a network, but he never realized how weak the walls of those leylines are." The flash of confusion in the parents' eyes is enough to prompt an elaboration from Professor Augur. "The leylines of a pony- also called the mana system by some- is not unlike the circulatory system; it consists of almost artery-like structures which a pony's mana flows through."
"But Pure's have thin walls," Doctor Mend spoke. "It's why they were so sensitive to outside mana pressing against them; enough pressure could essentially pinch them off, which caused the discomfort. More relevant to her current condition, however, like veins and arteries of the circulatory system; thin walls are vulnerable to bursting. Aneurysms, they're called."
"Is... is that what happened to my foal?" Ornate questioned, choking back a sob. "A magic... aneurysm?"
"Essentially," said the pegasus. "there's three, as well as several points along her network in which the pathways have been completely crushed shut."
Ornate failed to contain the sob then as she buried her face against her husband's neck. Blueblood's features went slack in shock. "But the doctors are doing everything they can to save her," Doctor Mend interjected quickly. "A technique, one used to temporarily treat vascular trauma, is being used to reopen the sealed leylines. Magical structures, tubular in design are allowing mana to flow while sutures of a similar nature are sealing the tears."
"Temporary..." Blueblood breathed, blinking as his eyes came back into focus. "What does that mean? Will the treatment work or not?"
"Well..." the doctor began slowly. "These techniques are battlefield medicine. See, in the case of more... conventional wounds out in the field, specifically to the cardiovascular system, these spell structures can be used to stabilize a soldier's condition until proper surgery can be performed. A crushed artery, for instance, would have a physical mesh inserted to keep it open, but that can't be done here. In the case of your daughter, the magic structures and sutures will have to remain for the entirety of her recovery."
"So they will," Blueblood said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The spells will be cast and she'll be right as rain."
"Except, magical structures don't last long," Doctor Mend informed. "Especially not while being eroded by another's mana, which will be occurring as Pureblood's mana flows over the structures created by the doctors."
"Then what... what can be done?" Ornate asked finally, pulling her tear-stained face away for her husband's chest. "Surely something, right?"
"The magic will have to be reapplied roughly every hour for the next three weeks," spoke Professor Augur. "That's how long it will take her mana network to recover enough to function on its own, and even then, it will be fragile. No casting near her for quite some time. Frankly, we're lucky the solution the surgeons came up with is a precise application of small amounts of magic, or them using magic to treat her network would simply cause more damage."
"She'll have to stay here, then?" Blueblood asked, getting Doctor Mend to nod.
"Yes, and under the watch of several surgeons the entire time. A challenge, to be sure, but one they're willing to face to ensure the filly's recovery."
"When can we see her?" asked the mother, legs once again able to support her own weight. "I want to see my foal- to talk to her."
Both parents saw the doctor flinch and the professor's mouth become a thin line, and they felt their stomachs drop. "That second part might not be for some time," said the doctor. "She'll need to wake up first, and we... don't know when that might be."
"As you probably know," cut in the pegasus. "The mana network of unicorns resides mostly within the head, specifically weaved throughout the frontal lobe... which happens to be be where one of the ruptures occurred."
"Mana has bled into the surrounding tissue," Doctor Mend continued. "Which, while we're sure hasn't caused... permanent brain damage, does seem to be having an effect on her. Brain activity is abnormal, and she's unresponsive... As of right now, your daughter seems to be in some sort of coma."
Blueblood was stunned, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, too stricken by what he had just been told to be able to catch his wife, who fainted and dropped to the floor with a thump.
Why am I here? Why can't I leave? I'm not wanted; it'd be better if I was gone somewhere dark. Darker than this place. So dark that no one would ever have to see me again.
"Fake."
I flinch, and my body suddenly feels larger. Alien and familiar all at once.
"Liar."
I curl in on myself, shrinking.
"You're not my sister."
"Not my daughter."
"Not Pureblood."
But I am. Please, I know I lied. I'm sorry, but you have to believe-
A sharp slap sends me sprawling, fingers curling into the nothingness beneath me as I struggle to get up.
'Where is my granddaughter, beast."
No, Grandpa Shield, please. I-
"An actress, after all. She had us all fooled."
Grampy?
"To think, this thing was among us."
I force an eye open, looking for Grammy, but see a little white colt instead. There's fire in his eyes, and on his horn. "Where is she?"
Bluey, i-it's me-
"Where is she!"
Ah! P-please! Stop!
He doesn't, striking me with wave after wave of fire, the force nearly matching his voice.
"Where is she! Where is she! Where is Pure!"
It's me! I'm her! Please, I'm sorry!
I'm a foal with a busted horn, and the fires hurt even more. It always hurts. There's nothing. Nothing forever and ever. Then they're here from nothing, and the fire burns through my skull. They never believe me- don't want to believe the one they loved could lie to them. Don't want to believe she isn't even a pony.
"Fake! Fake! Fake!"
T-twinkleshine? Minuette?
"Liar! Liar! Liar!"
Lemon Hearts? Lyra?
"How... how could you?"
N-no, Moondancer, please, you have to understand. I didn't want to hurt you- any of you. Don't leave me. You're my best friend.
The little filly's sad eyes are suddenly filled with disgust, and she turns away. She walks through the crowd of ponies, disappears behind the faces of my friends and family, of ponies I've betrayed, and they all glare.
No, please, don't... don't look at me like that... I'm so, so sorry for what I am. Please...
They're moving in, and I curl into a ball, trying to hide from their angry looks. Their eyes burn me however, and I shiver and shake. They keep getting closer though, and I'm afraid of what will happen when they're on top of me. Will I suffocate? Will I die again?
A cool breeze rushes over my pained hide, and a sigh escapes involuntarily from my lips.
"Begone, terrors!" a voice booms, unfamiliar.
There's a flash of blue light, and then the nothingness is quiet once more.
Quiet, save an almost inaudible panting. Despite myself, I chance a look up, and am surprised to see... something before me.
It's mist, the faintest shade of blue, and almost invisible against the darkness. Then it's turning, and I can make out what look like legs, maybe even a head.
"Are thou... alright... little one?"
I blink up, not quite sure if I even heard the words, as incorporeal as this thing.
It turns away, seemingly scanning it's surroundings. "This place... how did... thou findest thyself here?"
What? I don't remember, and search my own memories fruitlessly. Why can't I remember?
"A mystery... then...? This... is not... a natural slumber... Not... a dream."
Of course it's not a dream, it's a... wait, what is this?
The mist ignores me, speaking still, "This... is the deep... subconscious... Very few... reach... this place... I... myself... am imprisoned here..." It turns to me, and I can feel its eyes, despite not being able to see them. They do not burn. They feel sad. "Our... regrets... find us... in this place... What... little one... haunts thou?"
My thoughts immediately turn to my friends and family, and the expressions of hatred. Liar. Monster.
"Ah... These... I know well..." it breathes, sitting, it's stare returning to the distance. "I too... kept secrets... from the one... I loved... my only... family... and it... devoured me... I can do little now... to make amends... for what... my secrets... caused... Nothing... perhaps... but advice..." It looks down at me. "What... is thy... guilt? What truth... hidden?"
The truth. At the thought, I feel it overtake me. The nothing feels more cold when I'm like this. When I don't have a lie covering my frail form. The mist tilts its head curiously.
"Strange..." it whispers, then looks down at its leg. My gaze follows the gesture, and I see the mist dissipating, starting from the extremities and traveling up. "My strength... fades... To visit thou... from imprisonment... has taken... all... that I could muster... The Nightmare... sleeping... allowed me... this brief... respite."
It stands and approaches and I resist the urge to crawl away. "With... the last... of my strength... I shall... lift thee... from this realm... Mine advice... tell them... the truth... or... the lie... will devour thee, too."
Then, its once invisible eyes shine a radiant white that intensifies, spreading across the nothing, burning it away. I should want to shield my eyes, but I can't help but stare directly at it. I even feel my legs come under me, and I stumble forward, arms outstretched.
I breathe deeply, then let it out in a steady flow, trying to keep calm. That's all I've been doing for the last hour since waking up in a hospital with a doctor hovering over me, horn aglow.
I suppose I should feel lucky that whatever the unicorn had been doing, he had finished just before I punched him in the nose with a shriek. He was pretty lucky, too, for the fact that my legs feel like noodles. It would have been really awkward to bloody some pony's nose like that.
He was shocked, but unharmed, and quickly left the room, saying something about informing the other doctors. It wasn't long after that Doctor Mend came in and gave me smile. "Hey there, Pureblood, it's good to see you awake," he had said, and I returned the smile as best I could. As frayed as my nerves had become in that short time, seeing a familiar face, even if it was a doctor's, did help calm me a bit.
"What happened?" I had rasped, only to immediately start coughing, my throat feeling like sandpaper. Doctor Mend was quick to fetch me some water in a small glass from the adjoined bathroom and bring it to my lips, which I sipped gratefully. Once my throat was no longer drier than a desert, he had explained the gist of what happened.
Apparently, there was an accident. A filly had surged wildly during the exams, and the resulting wave of magic did a number on my own. I was shocked to hear I'd been unconscious for the last three weeks, and disheartened to learn that my magic would be impaired worse than ever for awhile.
He didn't explain much more, probably assuming it would go over my head, and instead left with a promise to get ahold of my family. That left me alone with my thoughts, and the task of keeping them from becoming panicked. Easier said than done, though, when I can't help but be reminded of a time long ago. My body feels weak, my head hurts, and I'm stuck in a hospital bed.
I really wish Doctor Mend would have at least told me how long I'd be here. Have they just been waiting for me to wake up before sending me home? Would I be doing so now that I'm conscious? How messed up is my magic, and what's the treatment? What was that doctor doing when I first woke up?
Probably the biggest question of all, however, is if I'll get better. The thought of being stuck in this hospital, or even just being bedridden at home, is enough to put me on the verge of tears. I can't go back to that, and I certainly don't want to put my family through such hardship, but I'm afraid I won't have a chose.
I'm jolted out of my thoughts when the door flies open and I'm rushed by three very familiar ponies. "Oh, my precious Pure, you're awake!" Mom wails, practically draping herself across the bed to hug me. "Thank the stars! I was so worried."
"Pureblood..." Dad breathes, containing himself better than his wife, but with powerful emotions in his eyes as he gives a smile, stepping to the side of my bed to run a hoof over my mane. "I... I'm glad you're back with us."
I close my eyes and just absorb the warmth that contact with my parents brings, then open my eyes to see my brother climbing over the edge of the bed. Before I can say anything, he charges me, wrapping his hooves around my neck and crying.
"Bluey," I whisper, tears of my own falling as I return the embrace with as much strength as I can muster. I can only manage with one hoof though when I remember there's an IV in the other. I've been trying to ignore the thing, but when it tugs in my skin, I can't help but shiver.
Blueblood notices and pulls away. "A-are you okay, Pure?" he asks, looking me over. His eyes follow mind when I look down at my foreleg, and he frowns. "I kept telling everypony you don't like needles, but they wouldn't listen. Can we take it out now?" This last part is directed at our parents.
Mom stands up straight, snorting to clear her sinuses and rubbing at her wet cheeks while Dad looks down at the needle in my foreleg with a sigh. "We'll ask the doctor as soon as he gets in," he says, looking at the door. "He should be here soon. We have much to discuss."
"We... might have left him behind in the lobby in our hurry to get to your room," Mom explains with a watery smile, looking on the verge of tears again. "We just couldn't wait to see you."
True enough, Doctor Mend steps through the door, looking over our little family for a second, then smiling. "Hello everypony-"
"Take the needle out of Pure's leg," Bluey interrupts, sending a glare at the doctor and ignoring the reprimands from our mother. "Now."
The doctor, blinks, then chuckles. "Well, I suppose now that she's awake and capable of eating and drinking on her own..." he says, trailing off as he approaches the bedside. Dad moves to make room, and I hesitantly offer up the foreleg with the IV. With a practiced hoof and ignoring Bluey's scrutinizing gaze, Doctor Mend slowly pulls the needle from my leg.
I bite my lip and suppress the shiver at the odd sensation, and then it's over, the doctor gently holding a cotton swab to the small hole for a minute until it stops dribbling blood. "And there," he says, stepping back. "All done. You're a very tough little filly."
"Of course she is," my brother comments with a snort. "She's tougher than most colts. Even Pauly."
I blush a little at the statement, and Mom and Dad both smile indulgently. "That she is," Dad says, patting his son on the shoulders before turning to the doctor, expression becoming more serious. "And one who I'm sure is eager to go home."
Doctor Mend doesn't speak right away, going to the chart at the foot of the bed. "And she will be... soon," he begins, picking it up and looking it over. "One of her last treatments was administered an hour ago, and her mana system has recovered greatly over the last three weeks. Honestly, after one more treatment in a couple more hours, and one more night for observations, she should be ready to return home as long as everything looks good."
Instantly, I feel loads better. "Just one more day?" I ask hopefully. "Will my magic be better soon, too?" I may not be able to do much with it, but what little I can do makes Mom and Dad so proud. I'd hate to disappoint them by not being able to practice anymore. I see Doctor Mend's gaze turn to me, then flit away, and my shoulders tense. "I know you said I'd have to wait, but... for how long? A couple days? A week...? Two?"
Doctor Mend shuffles some, then shoots a glance at my parents, almost as if asking for help, and Mom answers. "Sweetie... the accident hurt you very badly," she begins, voice quivering some before she swallows and steadies it. "And you're getting better, but... it's going to take time."
"How much time?" I ask again, and Doctor Mend finally answers.
"We aren't entirely sure. You've come a long way, and have recovered more than we expected, so tracking your progress so far and extrapolating gives us what I believe will be a fairly accurate estimate," he says with a small amount of pride. It leaves quickly as he finishes, however. "Most likely another four months..."
As I gasp and Dad places a comforting hoof on my withers, the doctor quickly continues. "Of course, that's just how long it will take to recover fully. You'll progressively improve, of course. By two months, ponies will no doubt be able to use low level magic around you again."
My head drops and Dad rubs small circles into my back. "Hey, come on now," he says reassuringly. "Four months isn't long at all. It'll pass before you know it."
"Yeah," my brother agrees. "And I'll help you practice magic when you're all better so you can catch up! I'll be learning all sorts of things at Aunty Celestia's school, so I'll be able to teach you lots of new stuff."
They're clearly making an effort to cheer me up, so I do my best not to disappoint them further by pasting on a small smile. "I do like learning new stuff," I say. "I guess I'll just have to do other things until my magic gets better."
"That's the spirit," Dad says, leaning down to nuzzle me. "Maybe we can look into a new hobby? Perhaps an instrument of some sort."
"Doctor," a nurse starts, peeking her head through the entrance of the room, eyes landing on Mend. "There are ponies in the lobby asking about your patient. They're saying they're the grandparents."
"Dad must have told your parents," Dad says to Mom. "I suppose we should go down and greet them."
"I'm staying with Pure," Bluey says, leaning against my side, getting our parents to smile at us.
"That's fine," Mom says. "We'll be right back up with the others. Everypony has been very eager to see Pureblood awake and well."
I flinch at that, but luckily no pony notices. Ponies have been waiting to see me awake and well, but they'd only be getting the former. As much as I'd prefer just letting the facade drop and to hide under the covers, I still have an audience, and turn my attention to my brother after the adults leave.
"So..." I start. "A whole three weeks, huh? Did I miss anything?"
Bluey shrugs. "Not really. Um, School doesn't start for a while still."
"That's right," I say with a sigh. "Guess I missed out on the break..."
Suddenly, Blueblood's expression becomes hard. "It's all that stupid Sparkle's fault, too," he practically growls.
My ears perk up. "Sparkle? You mean Twilight? What did she do?"
"She's the one who hurt you," Bluey practically spat. "She let her magic go crazy to hatch the egg. She hurt you, and destroyed the room the test was in, and no pony has even done anything! She's gonna be Aunty's personal student instead, and she even gets to keep the baby dragon. She did all this bad stuff, and she isn't even grounded!"
I blink, taking this in. It was Twilight Sparkle who did this to me? It's both surprising and not as I think about it. I sort of wondered if maybe she had a lot of magic and had trouble using it, but still, not that much. Certainly not as much as what landed me in the hospital even when I was in a different room. On top of that, Twilight is my friend, and it's hard to relate my current gloomy situation with a pony I've always tried to help.
"Wow..." I manage, trying to think of something to say. "So, Twilight's gonna be Aunt Celestia's student...? Good for her, I guess."
"No," snaps Blueblood. "Not good! She should be kicked out of school- out of the city before she can hurt yo- anypony else!"
"Bluey," I try. "I'm sure she didn't mean it... It was an accident, right? A surge?"
"She should have better control of her magic," he says with certainty. "That's what Mr. Scatter was trying to teach us all the time in magic kindergarten, but she was always too busy reading her stupid books instead of practicing like she was supposed to. She wouldn't have surged if she wasn't so iru- irespan- lazy!"
I open my mouth, but shut it when no other arguments come to mind. I don't blame Twilight, not really, but what else can I say in her defense? I don't think she's irresponsible or lazy, but there's no real way to convince Blueblood of that.
Once again, I'm causing rifts between people because I can't just be normal and healthy like I should. How long before Mom and Dad begin to argue because of me?
"Hey, don't worry," Bluey says, picking up on my sudden melancholy. "I won't let that stupid Twilight hurt you again." His eyes become hard and determined. "I promise."
"That's not-" I start, but shake my head. It wouldn't do to burden the colt with my worries. Instead, I say, "But Twilight's my friend."
"Friends don't put friends in hospitals," he declares. "She tried coming to see you when you were still sleeping, but she wasn't allowed. She might have hurt you more."
"Twilight came to visit?" I ask, a little surprised the shy filly would ever actively seek me out. Until now, our little group always had to drag her to join us in anything.
Blueblood nods. "Yeah, a bunch of your friends came too, but the doctors were afraid of letting them into your room 'cause they might have accidentally used magic." The colt rolls his eyes at this. "I don't know why they were worried though, those fillies aren't like Twilight; they're smart and know not to hurt others. Especially, Moondancer."
Despite the fact that I was unconscious, the idea that my friends weren't allowed to visit is kind of irksome. "Really? None of my friends were allowed to see me?"
"Mmm, no, Moondancer was let in the room, but that was because she came to the house with her mom to ask our mom to take her to see you... She cried a lot when she did though."
Another stab of guilt strikes my heart at the thought of Moondancer crying because of me. The door opens before I can dwell on the it though, and I'm soon surrounded by adults.
My grandparents are as boisterous as ever, loudly proclaiming how glad they are to see me awake and telling me all the things we'll do when I'm out of the hospital. It's wonderful, and all the love in the room does well to banish my self-loathing for the moment, but I soon start to feel tired, exhausted both physically and emotionally. Mom is first to notice, and she herds everypony out, claiming I need rest.
As much as I'd like for them to stay, I don't have the energy to argue, and soon, it's only Mom, Dad, and my brother, who clings to me, refusing to leave. When I pipe up that I don't mind him staying, our parents begrudgingly agree. They settle on going out for a quick lunch with their parents, and bringing the two of us something to eat.
Finally, the room is quiet once more, and Blueblood snuggles under the covers next to me, wrapping his hooves around my side. I smile at him, and he smiles back, then closes his eyes. I do the same shortly after, inviting sleep to take me.
"Still awake, Pure?" Blueblood asks quietly after another fifteen minutes of silence.
I sigh and open my eyes. "Yep," I answer, glad for the respite from staring at the back of my eyelids. It's getting late now, Mom and Dad having returned long ago with a warm brownie for each of us foals. That had been the highlight before the horrible procedure of getting magic probed around in my brain.
I had failed to get any sleep by that point, not even a few minutes before a doctor came to inform us that he would be performing the final procedure on my damaged leylines. I was nervous of course, especially when everypony was asked to wait outside so that I was alone, but figured these doctors had done it plenty of times while I slept, so it must not have been anything to worry about.
I was wrong on that front, flinching when the doctor lit his horn, and barely holding back a scream when magic speared into my skull. The entry point was my horn, apparently, and it felt like he was trying to drill down the core of it. After another attempt, and me failing to restrain my scream a second time, my family came rushing in, and Doctor Mend was called.
Remembering the pain sends shivers down my spine, and I'm amazed that I had been through the procedure multiple times already. How could such a thing not wake me up? Even after a special pain numbing gel was smeared over my horn and forehead, the entry of the magic felt just plain wrong. When it actually made it inside, it was almost like fire.
Not as if I had a burning ember in my brain, but more like sitting too close to a blazing fire and feeling the heat singe at my skin. Except, this wasn't skin deep, and I had to fight with every fiber of my being not to squirm under the assault. I had lied when the doctor asked if it was bothering me too much. This needed to be done and I had no intention of staying in the hospital any longer than necessary. Still, when it was over, I let out a breath I had been holding and panted heavily.
After that, with an itch now on the inside of my skull, I was told to rest. My family came in one last time to say goodbye, but as soon as Blueblood saw my exhausted state, he refused to leave. Arguments proved futile against the stubborn colt, and eventually a concession had to be made. Mom and Dad would come back later for him so that Bluey could stay with me until visiting hours were over.
I honestly don't know how long it's been, but I do know I haven't slept a wink yet. "Maybe we can ask somepony to bring you a glass of warm milk," Bluey suggests.
I sigh and turn over to face him. "Maybe," I mumble, eyelids heavy. "I don't know though... It's not that I'm not tired, because I am super tired, it's because my head feels weird."
"Oh," the colt says. "Um, maybe they have medicine for that?"
"I'll fall asleep eventually," I say, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the sensation behind them. "I just have to keep trying."
"It'll be easier once we're back home," Blueblood promises, touching a forehoof to one of mine. "These beds are hard, and the blankets are scratchy. They should have just let you leave tonight."
"I wish," I agree. "It's just one more day, though."
It's quiet for a minute before I feel a pair of small hooves pulling at my body lightly in askance. Despite my exhaustion, I smile a little and scoot closer to colt, enjoying the warmth of his hooves around me. Our horns are practically touching, and I can feel his breath on my face, a strangely comforting sensation.
Even so, I still spend the next few minutes accomplishing nothing more than feigning sleep, and Bluey knows it. "Want to talk?"
"About what?" I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
"I dunno. Anything," he answers in an equally hushed tone. "What was it like sleeping for so long?"
I frown, thinking about it. "Not good." I say. That's the first thing that comes to mind, but I try to elaborate. "I feel weak and my body's all noodly and stiff at the same time."
"Did you dream?" he asks, and my brow furrows.
I... don't know," I begin. I was going to say that I didn't think so, but that wasn't right. "Maybe? If I did, I can't remember."
"Really? Nothing? Are you sure?" he prods, and for some reason, it makes my head hurt a little.
"No, I'm not... but I don't think I want to remember."
"Why not? A three week long dream must have been really cool."
"Maybe it was a nightmare," I say grumpily, and for some reason, that sounds right.
"Oh... Um, forget I said anything," he says, but the thought is already wriggling in my mind. Though some part of me is warning against it, I squeeze my eyes shut in concentration and attempt to dredge up a memory.
After a few seconds, an an echo whispers up from the void in my memory. Liar.
But that doesn't make sense. I haven't lied about anything, or at least nothing important I'm sure. I've always been open with Bluey and parents. I don't lie to my friends, and especially not Moondancer.
... Except for that time I told her a story from a movie and told her I made it up. That was necessary, though. I couldn't exactly have told her it was actually a movie from a different world. She wouldn't have believed me and probably would have thought I was crazy. That doesn't make me a liar... right?
No, certainly not. Even if I'm keeping who I truly am from everypony, it's necessary. That's why even the ponies who love me most don't know, not even my twin. How could I even begin to tell them, anyway? Just say that I'm an alien and I don't even know how I got in this body? Even if they believed me, what would they think after? They certainly wouldn't see me as family. Just something that inserted itself into their lives without warning.
They might even think I stole this body and the real Pureblood was lost forever.
"Pure...? Why are you shaking?"
My eyes fly open to see a pair of bright blue, concerned ones. "Are you... crying?" he asks, and I reach a hoof up to rub the dampness hanging on my eyelashes.
"No," I answer. "It's nothing."
"You can tell me if anything's wrong," the colt insists. "I promise, even if it's stupid, I won't laugh."
"How reassuring," I deadpan, getting him to smile.
"I know," he says with pride before looking concerned again. "So come on, tell me."
"It's..." I'm just about to say it's nothing, when I stop. Wouldn't that be a lie?
"Tell them... the truth... or... the lie... will devour thee."
The voice bubbles up from that same void in my memories, and I jolt. What was that? "Pure?"
"I'm fine," I assure instantly. "Just thought I heard something."
"Oh, well then you can tell me what's wrong now."
"Bluey..." I begin in exasperation, but he cuts me off.
"Come on, just tell," he presses. "You'll feel better."
"Fine," I groan. "But it's stupid... and weird."
"I promised I wouldn't laugh, remember?"
"I remember." I take a deep breath, asking myself if I'm really going to attempt this. "Okay, um, hypothetically-"
"Hypo-what-now?"
"Um, it kinda means pretending," I explain. "What I mean is... let's pretend something, and you tell me what you would think if it was real."
He tilts his head for a second, but nods. "Okay, I can do that. What're we pretending?"
"Well, pretend that I was... something else," I begin, trying to put this in a way the colt could understand. "Like, before I was Pureblood the unicorn, I had been somepony- something else."
"How can you be something before you're you?"
"Like, I had a different life, with a different name and different family," I continue. "And even different body, but when that stuff... ended... I got to be Pureblood."
"Okay..." he says slowly, raising an eyebrow. "I guess that would be... weird, but is that supposed to be bad?"
"It means I wouldn't be who you think I am," I say, looking down. "It means Pureblood would only be a part of me... and that I have been pretending otherwise for as long as you or any pony has known me... It means I lied."
"I... don't think that's lying," Blueblood says, tapping his chin.
I look up to him, confused. "How couldn't it? If you all thought I was one way, but I turned out to be way different than that, wouldn't it be a lie to let you think that?"
"No, because being Pureblood would still be you," he declares confidently. "It would be like saying the first part of a book is a lie just 'cause there are more pages after it."
I open my mouth, then shut it, brow furrowing in thought for a few seconds. "But if I let you think the first part is all there is, you'd never know there was more to the book if I didn't tell you."
He just shrugs. "Maybe, but that still isn't a lie. Besides, I'm not stupid; I could just read the book myself and see that there's more."
"That's not how this works!" I argue, getting frustrated.
"Yes it is," Bluey counters glibly. "I'm not stupid. I can read just fine." I sigh, closing my eyes in resignation while he keeps talking. "Besides, I don't need to read the whole book to know a lot about it."
"What?"
"Like if it's a funny story, or an adventure story," he says. "I can figure that out just from a couple pages. I can tell if it's gonna be a happy or sad story... I may not know everything if I only read half of it, but I still know more than half, and I think that can be enough."
"Enough for what?" I question.
"If it's a good book, and if I like it," he answers, then looks me in the eyes . "... If you're a book I've only read some of, you're still my most favorite book. I could read a hundred books all the way through, and that would still be true."
I blink, surprised, then blink more as my vision gets watery. "That's..." Reassuring? A weight off my shoulders I didn't realize was there? "That's very nice," I finish, smiling. "You're my most favorite book, too."
He smiles. "Thanks... wait? What kind of book am I, then? You really like the dictionary... You're not saying I'm a boring old dictionary, are you?"
Giggling, I shake my head. "Of course not, silly... you don't know nearly enough words to be a dictionary. You're more like a picture book."
"Oh, well that's good... Hey! Wait! I know lots of words!"
"Not as many as I do," I respond, smiling smugly.
"That's only 'cause you know a bunch of stupid words no pony uses, like hippo-the-cathy!"
"Hypothetically," I correct. "And they're not stupid words. They're cool words for cool ponies, like me and Aunt Celestia."
While he continues to argue that big words are only a waste of time compared to smaller, easy-to-say words, I just playfully debate, until I yawn and feel my eyelids growing heavier.
"Whatever," Bluey says suddenly. "Just go to sleep already, dictionary filly," he grumbles, though there's fondness underneath the sour tone. "Goodnight, Pure."
I smile softly, feeling sleep overtake me. Still, I have the energy for one last tease. "And a pleasant rest to you, as well, Bluey."
"See? So many extra words!"
I laugh under my breath and let my eyes shut, the sensation in my head not as distracting anymore. As I fall asleep, though, I can't help but reflect on what I had told my brother. It certainly can't be called the truth, and I didn't frame it as such, but still... it gives me hope.
Hope that Blueblood isn't alone in his way of thinking. Hope that any of my other precious ponies would give similar answers.
It's a pleasant a thought to have as I drift to sleep.
I wish Bluey was in here right now, or better yet, I was with him.
Admittedly, he's pretty much spent every minute with me since I was allowed to come home, only leaving when forced by his need to use the bathroom, or by our parents. Still, when he's not here, and I'm not tired enough to sleep, the room is painfully quiet.
Lots of bed rest the doctors said, but there's only so much rest I can get before it starts to become impossible. That might be a lot of hours, especially as I find myself still feeling drained even after sleeping half the day away, but for the other half, I'm stuck in bed. It's only the second day back in the manor, and I have already grown tired of staring at the same four walls and ceiling.
Bluey has made it mostly bearable, the two of us taking turns reading books out loud together. Apparently, my collection has grown quite a lot while I was away, the colt having asked our parents at every opportunity to buy a new book. He said he knew I'd want to read them when I woke up, and I'm very grateful for the consideration. All the new reading material is keeping me sane, though I'm already halfway through, and still have a long recovery to endure.
With a loud sigh, I bring my hooves to my face and rub my heavy eyes. My limbs feel like they're filled with sand, and there's a dull pulse at my temples. Turning my head sluggishly, I look at the covered window, squinting at the slight streams of light slipping past the curtains.
Lucky Blueblood is out there in the warm sun, training with Grandpa Shield, while I'm stuck here in the dark. The stallion practically had to drag my brother away, saying it wasn't good for a colt to stay in bed all day and that he needed at least an hour of fresh air and exercise.
I could definitely go for some of that first one, and asked if I could come down to the gardens to watch, but Mom shot that idea down, convinced that only a day free from the hospital is too soon to be up and about. No amount of pleading could change her mind, and so here I am, alone, bored, and unable to sleep a wink.
I understand that she's worried after what happened to me, but I do hope Mom doesn't stay this overprotective forever. I've spent enough time trapped in a single room and bed for two lifetimes, and I'd rather not be confined to such a life again because Mom thinks a stiff breeze will cripple me.
Suddenly, my grumpy musings are cut short by a knock at the door. I ponder for just a moment why any of my family would feel the need to knock before I call out, "Come in!"
Mom pokes her head in, a small smile on her lips "Hey, sweetie, I hope I didn't wake you up, but there's a surprise visitor here to see you."
Just then, a small, beige filly slips hesitantly in the room, and I smile brightly. "Moondancer!"
At the sound of my voice, the filly's purple eyes go wide and her withdrawn demeanor immediately evaporates as she yells back, "Pure!"
I'm only halfway into a seated position before the little unicorn is up on the bed and diving into my chest, great heaving sobs as she cries. Mom frantically says to be careful, but Moondancer doesn't seem to hear as she squeezes me tight around the middle.
"I-I was s-so scared you weren't g-gonna wake up," she says between breaths, lifting her head to stare up at me with wet eyes.
"But I did," I say soothingly, petting her mane as I smile gently down at her. "There's no reason to be scared anymore."
"I-I know, and I'm s-so happy!" she cries, getting me to laugh.
"I'm happy to," I say. "Especially because you're here to visit."
"I'll leave you two to catch up for a bit," Mom says, giving us a gentle smile. "But you still need bed rest, Pure, so I'll be back in a few minutes. Moondancer, your mother and I will be down in the kitchen if you need anything." Then, as an afterthought, she says a little sternly. "No magic, Moondancer. It could hurt Pure, you understand?"
As the filly nods, still pressed against my body, Mom leaves, and I push her back some and frown. "Bluey said you came to see me before, but I was rude and slept right through it. Sorry about that, Mooney."
It's her turn to laugh, giving me a playful shove. "You should be," she jokes with a watery smile. "With you sleeping I didn't have anypony to be my reading buddy."
"What about Twilight?" I ask. "I'm sure she would read with you."
"Twilight's sorta gone, though," she answers.
My frown becomes more genuine. "Twilight's gone?"
"Not exactly," she says, wiping a foreleg across her eyes. "Um, since she's Celestia's student now, I guess she must be really busy. Nopony has seen her much, not even Lemon Heart, and their houses are really close together."
"Has anypony gone and tried to talk to her?" I ask, tilting my head. "I don't think Aunt Celestia would make a little filly study so hard that she can't spend time with her friends."
"No..." Moondancer answers slowly, looking away. "We... don't want to bother her, you know. She's important now, after all, right?"
"Moondancer?" I say, getting her to flinch for some reason. "You know that kind of stuff doesn't matter with us. I mean, Bluey and I are technically a prince and princess, and we still have friends. I'm sure Twilight's feeling really lonely with only her studies."
"It's not like she hasn't always studied instead of hang out with us," the filly mumbles. "I'm sure she's fine. She's not the one who was in the hospital, after all."
There's a bitterness in her voice I've never heard before, and I'm stunned. I expected that sort of thing from Blueblood, but not Moondancer.
"Mooney," I begin hesitantly. "Are you... are you mad at Twilight for the accident?"
Her jaw clenches as she frowns. "... She didn't even try to say sorry," she whispers.
"Huh?"
"When we all got together to see you at the hospital, and they didn't let us in, Lemon Heart tried to get Twilight to come with us, but when she went to her house, Twilight wouldn't even come down to talk to her."
"Maybe she was just busy," I try, but that only makes Moondancer more upset.
"Too busy to see a sick friend in the hospital?" She says incredulously. "Too busy to see the friend she hurt?"
"It was an accident-"
"But she still did it!" she counters. "When I bump into other ponies, I say I'm sorry 'cause that's what you're supposed to do. Even if she didn't mean to hurt you, she still could have come with us to say sorry."
"I... Moondancer," I begin, struggling for words. "I don't want you to be mad at Twilight- we're all friends."
"She's never tried to be our friend," she grumbles, crossing her front hooves.
My chest feels tight, and I begin to grow desperate. "Please, Mooney," I whisper. "Don't be mad at her. Not because of me." She looks curiously at me, and I need to make her understand. "Please, I don't want anypony fighting because of me. Fighting because of how... how weak I am," I say, sniffling as my eyes start to sting.
"What are you talking about?" Moondancer asks, scooting closer. "Weak?"
"My magic," I say, feeling disgust bubble up. "My weak, stupid magic. It's all wrong, and that's why I'm like this now. Twilight's accident didn't hurt anypony else because they're normal and healthy, but not me. It's not Twilight's fault I'm like this..."
"But that's not your fault!" Moondancer quickly abolishes. "You can't change how your magic is, but Twilight should be able to control hers. She should have practiced more or something."
"What if her magic is different?" I counter. "What if her magic is like mine, but... reversed?"
Moondancer blinks a few times, confused. "What would that even mean?"
"Well, I'm... my magic is really weak, and that makes it hard for me to use it at all, but maybe Twilight's magic is so strong, she can't control it." I have no way to prove the theory, but at this point, I'm just hoping to distract Moondancer from her animosity towards the other filly.
It seems to work as Moondancer bites her lip and scrunches her brow. "That... you can't know that..."
"But it could be true," I press. "You say I shouldn't feel bad about how my magic is, but doesn't that mean the same should be true for Twilight, if her magic is different too? She didn't choose to have insane amounts of magic, right? She just has it, and she has to learn to deal with that just like I have to learn how to deal with having hardly any magic."
"Wow..." Moondancer begins after a few seconds. "Leave it to you to make having tons of magic sound like a bad thing. I almost feel lucky now that I don't have magic like Twilight's."
I smile, relieved. "Yeah, I can get that. Still, I don't think I'd turn my nose up to it." I gesture around me and the bed that I'm stuck in. "Beats the alternative."
The filly doesn't laugh, looking down and twirling a hoof on the sheets. "I wouldn't want that much magic... if it meant I would hurt you."
My smile grows a little sadder as I reach out and gently pull her into a hug. "I'll be better soon," I whisper, pressing my muzzle into her neck. "Then things will go back to normal, and we can forget all about this stuff."
"I... I don't think I'll ever forget that day," she whispers. "I still have nightmares."
I squeeze a little more. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"It's not yours either, or even Twilight's. It was all just an accident," I tell her. "Still doesn't mean that I'm not sorry. I'm sorry you were so scared, and I'm sorry you had to worry because of me."
"You're my friend. I'm supposed to worry for you."
Huffing a small laugh, I say, "Well, here's hoping you won't have to so much from now on. As soon as my magic is working again, I'll practice twice as a hard so no pony will have to worry about this happening again."
"Maybe I can help?" Moondancer offers meekly. "Once I start at Celestia's School, I bet I'll learn all sorts of practicing exercises."
"That'd be great," I answer sincerely, pulling away. "It can be like a study group; you, Blueblood, and me."
"We can invite our other friends, too," Moondancer adds.
"And Twilight," I say, watching closely for her reaction.
She flinches, but still nods hesitantly. "Maybe..." she says, not looking at all convinced. "If we can talk to her, anyway. If she won't even come down to talk to Lemon Heart when we go to her house though, she probably won't talk to us."
I sigh, but quickly try to hide my disappointment with a smile. "We'll still try, though. She's a friend, after all, so we have to at least try to include her."
"Right," Moondancer agrees. Verbally, at least, if not with her body language.
Deciding to give up for now, I try to change the topic to something a little safer. "So... what do you want to do? We still have some time I think before you have to leave."
She perks up, and I instantly know what she's about to say before she says it.
"Read a book?" she suggests at the same time I mouth the words. She frowns petulantly as I laugh, but she quickly grows happy when I agree.
By the time Mom comes back up to tell us Moondancer has to leave with her mother, we've finished one of my new books and have had as thorough a discussion possible about the literary themes of a pop-up story.
Moondancer's assurance that she'll come back tomorrow with new books of her own in tow give me something to look forward to, and luckily, right after she's gone, Bluey is back in the room demanding we re-read the pop-up story for his benefit. Apparently, he had been quite eager to read that one when he picked it off the shelf, but resisted temptation until I was awake to read it with him.
Despite having just finished it, I still smile wide and agree. Even if the story and gimmicks aren't as interesting the second time through, the look of joy and wonder on my brother's face as we turn each page is entertainment in itself.
Having him beside me also makes it easier to nap as we cuddle as close together as possible, the scent of green grass and warm sunlight that still clings to his coat from outside filling my senses and helping me drift into a peaceful sleep.
It was a novel experience, Princess Celestia thought, to be the one knocking at another's door, standing in the open while waiting for some pony to answer. She was used to always being expected, to always having a greeting party ready to welcome her as soon as she stepped off of her chariot.
And yet, here she was, alone, her two pegasus escorts waiting on a cloud above while she visited what little family she had. It was all she could do to convince the captain and her personal assistant to allow her this minimal guard detail, but she wanted this visit to be as informal as possible.
She wasn't a princess arriving at a diplomatic meeting, after all. She was an aunt visiting her recovering niece after a very bad accident. An accident she still felt personally responsible for even after being told a dozen times it wasn't her fault.
It was her school, and while she didn't personally create the test and setting, she did sign off on the whole affair. She knew the possibility of a foal surging, had seen it happen before under the stress of the entrance exam. It was by design, after all, that foals with such latent magical potential have it revealed during the exam. It was why things were set up to put pressure on the would-be students.
Not just any unicorn surged after early foalhood, and those who did were ideal candidates for her prestigious school. Every one of her personal proteges throughout history had been such a pony as they often needed an experienced hoof to guide them through the trials their own phenomenal magic presented them.
Even knowing this, however, she let herself be lax while the safety of her little ponies were on the line. She should have been there from the moment the exams had started, not running late. She should have created wards and barriers around the room to protect her subjects in case a particularly powerful surge occurred. Yes, a foal had never surged so intensely before now, but it was always a possibility.
She had gambled carelessly, and her niece and new student both were the ones to suffer for it.
The door opened, drawing the princess from her regrets. It was with practiced ease that she calmed the servant down and assured him that he had not kept her waiting too long. That same talent also came to bear when she soothed the fretting Ornate Garden, who felt the need to apologize for not being prepared for Celestia's unscheduled visit.
The elder Blueblood was a welcome a welcome change of pace as he smiled widely up at her and invited her inside for refreshments.
"Some tea does sound lovely," the princess said, walking besides her nephew. "I actually flew here on my own wings, and I'm a bit embarrassed to say, it took more out of me than I expected." She chuckled. "Perhaps I've allowed myself to be catered to a bit too much."
"Your job is stressful enough as to warrant it, I think," Blueblood said, getting his wife to nod.
"Definitely," she agreed. "I've heard there's been quite an uproar about the... incident at your school. A lot of furious parents demanding an answer to the danger their foals were placed in."
Celestia frowned, fighting the urge to drop her head in shame. "Yes, and rightfully so," she answered, side-eying the pink mare. "I'm honestly surprised you are not among them. Your daughter was the one who suffered most from my negligence."
Ornate looked uncomfortable as she answered, "I won't lie... I was quite upset those first few days. Upset at the school, at you, and even myself for not being able to protect Pureblood, but, after a while, I realized that being angry won't change what happened." She looks seriously up at the larger mare. "That's not to say I don't believe you or the school are blameless, and I do hope changes will be implemented in the future to assure no foals are put in danger like this again, but... I forgive you for what's happened."
Celestia blinks, both surprised by the bold way the usually fretful mare spoke to her, and for another reason. "I... thank you, for your forgiveness," she said sincerely. "And I assure you, I intend to do just as you said, and makes the needed changes to prevent something like this from happening again."
The serious expression fades away from Ornate's face as she smiles lightly and nods. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. I hope you make sure the adults are safe, to. I heard from my brother that the parents in the room had some interesting... side-effects from the whole affair."
"Ah, yes, that," Celestia began. "Nothing serious, but the short stint as plant-life had left the parents with a desire to sit in sunlight in an attempt at photosynthesis from time to time. Your brother helped in purging the last of the floral magic from their systems, however, and they've made a full recovery."
Ornate raised a brow, but instead shook her head as they arrived in the kitchen. Blueblood, having remained silent while the two mares talked things out, quickly went about preparing the tea himself. "Don't you ladies worry, I've got this," he said jovially. "It's not everyday I get to serve my aunt tea in my own home, after all."
"What a gentlestallion," Celestia teased. "I'm glad you finally got past the mud throwing phase."
The stallion smiled sheepishly. "What can I say? I was a rambunctious colt."
"Something I'm glad your son hasn't inherited," the princess said before thinking about it. "Well, not entirely, anyway. He's still quite the excitable colt."
"I can't imagine what he'd be like without Pureblood," said Ornate with a dramatic sigh. "She does so much to temper her brother's energy."
"That she does," Celestia agreed as her nephew nodded, back to them as he set the kettle. The tea was made and biscuits were brought from a tin. The three sat mostly in silence as they enjoyed the simple meal, Celestia taking the most pleasure from the peaceful snack. It wasn't gourmet, or served to her from a tea set that would cost most ponies their life savings, but it was good, and she relaxed in the company of those she thought of as family.
"Aunty," Blueblood said suddenly as they neared the end of their tea. "Not that I'm not thrilled by your visit, but I doubt you came to see my wife or me exclusively."
Placing her cup down, Celestia closed her eyes and nodded slightly. "You are correct," she answered, eyes opening. "Pureblood is now awake and home safely... I would like to see her, if it's possible."
"I figured," Blueblood said with a small smile. "Your mane is pink."
Celestia ran a hoof through her straight, pink mane absently. "I understand that Pure is even more sensitive to magic now than ever, so I made sure to fully contain mine before arriving."
"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," Ornate said. "As for Pure, I checked on her and Blueblood a while ago. They were sleeping peacefully."
Celestia frowned. "If that's the case, I'd hate to wake them, especially while Pureblood is still recovering."
"Nonsense," Blueblood said. "Their actual bedtime is still a few hours away, so waking up now will make it easier to sleep later. Besides, if they found out that you actually came to visit, and they slept through it, they'd be devastated."
Ornate looked conflicted for a moment, but eventually sighed. "He's right. If anything, I know Pure will be ecstatic to see you, and high spirits does a recovering body good." she stood up. "Come, I'll show you to her room."
"I'll be in my study," Blueblood added, standing as well. "Make sure you come see me when you're done with visiting the twins, Aunty. I'd love to talk a bit more."
"I'll make sure to do that before I leave," promised the princess, standing to follow the matriarch of the household. As they walked, Celestia found herself being lost in memories. This home was nearly as old as Canterlot, and she's been close to the lineage residing within it for almost as long. There were changes here and there. Places where repairs were made and renovations done, but it was still familiar enough to remind her of the friends and family of generations past. The ones she has said goodbye to.
At least for now, she did not have yet another parting to bear as they approached the room of young Pureblood.
Ornate cracked the door open enough to poke her head inside. "Aww, they're so cute," she breathed, and Celestia stepped up behind her, poking her own head through the gap above the much shorter mare.
She agreed with Ornate's assessment, and found herself making a similar sound of adoration. There on the bed lay the twins, Pureblood curled against her brother's chest while his chin rested on the top her her head. A closed book lay near the bottom of the mattress. Once again, Celestia found herself tempted to leave the two to their slumber, but Ornate had already entered the room.
Approaching the bed, the mare gently rocked the two awake, luring them back from sleep with quite whispers. "Pureblood, Blueblood, I'm sorry to wake you, but there's somepony here I think you'll want to see."
"Mommy?" Blue mumbled, blinking wearily up at her as his sister stirred, yawning and rubbing at her eyes.
"Yes," Ornate said, looking over towards the princess. "And somepony else."
Blueblood's gaze followed his mother's, and stopped on the alicorn. He blinked a few times as Celestia stepped fully into the room, then his eyes slowly widened. Celestia opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted with a shout of, "Aunty!" before having to scramble forward in a half-dive.
Blueblood, apparently not caring one iota for his safety, sprinted across the bed and dived off the edge, and the princess barely managed to catch him before impact with the hard floor. Front end prostrate and with a young colt in her forehooves, Celestia couldn't stop Blueblood from hugging her face. "Aunty! You came to visit."
"Blueblood! That was very dangerous!" Ornate scolded, stepping over to grab her son and allow the princess to stand.
Blueblood, for his part, just looked confused. "No it wasn't, Mommy. Aunty Celestia caught me."
"But what if she didn't?" the mare tried to reason, wanting to get the point across in case he tried a stunt like that again. "You could have gotten very badly hurt!"
He looked more confused, and actually shook his head as if his mother were spouting nonsense. "Aunty Celestia will always catch me. She's the greatest princess in the world, you know."
"Even if that were the case," Celestia interrupted, stepping forward to nuzzle the colt while he was still held in Ornate's grasps. "I can still make mistakes and fail, so it's best not to take unneeded risks." The colt still looked confused, so Celestia moved her lips to his ears and whispered. "At least, it makes your parents worry, so we better not do such things, right?"
"Oooh," he breathed, finally nodding. "Right, Mommy and Daddy are pretty silly sometimes." He looked up to his mom and added, "Sorry, Mommy, I won't do that again, I promise."
"Thank you, Blueblood," she answered with a soft smile and kiss on the forehead.
"Aunty Celestia...?" Pureblood mumbled groggily, at last up and stumbled to the edge of the mattress. "What are you doing here?"
Moving over to the bed, Celestia scooped the filly up and nuzzled her. "I'm here to visit you, Pureblood. I was so glad to hear that you woke up that I came as soon as I could to see you."
"You didn't have to do that," the filly said bashfully. "You probably have all sorts of important princess stuff to do right now."
Celestia frowned. "Pure, I will never be too busy for you or your brother. Being a princess is important, but so is time with my family." Truthfully, she wished she could spend much more time with the pair, but her duties were many. Still, the paperwork on her desk wasn't going anywhere, and she certainly wouldn't put off visiting her niece after she just got out of the hospital.
Sometimes, Celestia wished she could dream walk like her sister once could. Then she could visit Blue and Pure every night.
Closing her eyes and taking a breath to unclench her heart after thinking of her beloved sister, Celestia smiled once again at the filly. "Now, how about we have a little chat, hmm?" she asked, looking down the bed at what lied there. "It looks like you've started reading the books your brother collected for you while you were sleeping. Are his selections proving as good as he said? He insisted he knew exactly which ones you'd like the most."
"I did!" Blue stated proudly, chest puffed out. "Right, Pure?"
The filly nodded, looking more awake by the second as she plodded across the cushy mattress to grab the book. "This one is really cool," she explained, opening it up to reveal little paper structures. "It's a pop up book with a really nice story."
"Is that so?" Celestia responded, sounding curious. "Would you mind reading it with me?"
Unlike what she expected, the filly was not eager to oblige. Instead, her smile became strained. "Well, I kind of already read it twice today, um, but if you really want to, I guess I can read it again..." She side-eyed her bookcase longingly, and the rows of new books there, and Celestia couldn't help but giggle.
"No, there's no need for you to read it again. Maybe another time," she said, getting the filly to sigh ever so slightly in relief. She smiled wide when Celestia added. "How about a new one you haven't read yet? Then we can experience it for the first time together."
"Yeah!" she cheered, going to hop off the bed before halting to look over to her mother. "Um, but, can you grab it? Mom doesn't want me getting out of bed..."
Celestia raised a brow at the mother, who blushed in response as she placed her son down on the bed. "I just want to make sure she's resting enough, is all," she mumbled, and Celestia nodded in understanding. It perhaps was a bit excessive, forbidding the foal from walking across her own room, but the princess recognized Ornate's reasoning.
Her daughter had suffered a terrible accident not long ago and was still on the mend. It wasn't surprising that she would be a bit overbearing in the coming weeks.
Finally, Celestia nodded and moved to the bookcase, making sure to stand out of her niece's line of sight. Lifting a hoof in preparation to grab one, she asked, "Which would you like to read?"
Pureblood beamed, and soon, Celestia fond herself squeezed onto a bed far too small for her great size with two foals between her front legs and a book held in her outstretched hooves so all three of them could see. She listened, only commenting when prompted, as the two foals took turns reading. Celestia smiled whenever Pure would help her brother when he had trouble with a word, patiently sounding it out with him until he smiled and continued on.
It was amazing to Celestia that the filly could be so bright and cheerful after what had happened to her. She was such an attentive sister, always looking out for her sibling and doing all she could to ensure his happiness, no matter her own condition.
Celestia wished she had been like Pureblood a thousand years ago. Perhaps then the twins would have a pair of aunts instead of the one who could hardly see them.
Shaking her head ever so slightly, the princess refocused on the story being read to her, giving her thoughts on what the encroaching end would be.
She wasn't positive of the specifics, but she was at least sure it would be a happily ever after one.
All good stories ended like that.
"And they all lived happily ever after... Wow, you called it, Aunty," Blueblood said, reading the last line of the book. "Good job."
"Well, she's probably read, like, a million books by now," Pureblood commented. "I bet she's read so many that she can guess what's going to happen in almost all of them now."
"Oh, ponies have still surprised me from time to time," Princess Celestia said, closing the book and placing it down. "There's so many original ideas left to explore that I'm sure I'll keep being surprised for years to come."
"That's good, I guess," mused the filly, rubbing her chin. "At least that means you won't get bored of reading anytime soon. I'd hate it if we could never read books with you again."
"Yeah," Blueblood agreed with a nod. "You make reading way better."
Celestia raised a brow. "But I didn't read at all. It was only the two of you."
"It's 'cause you make the best pillow!" Blueblood explained, flopping back against her chest. "You're soft and warm!"
"Mhmm," agreed Pureblood, draping herself across one of the alicorn's legs. "You're so warm, like sunlight."
Celestia chuckled at that. "Fitting, I suppose... Anyway, would you two like to read another book?" Looking out the window, she frowned slightly. "I'll have to lower the sun soon, but I have time yet."
While Pureblood looked happy, Blueblood bit his lip. "Um, that sounds fun, but I gotta go do something real quick first."
"Oh? And what's that? Do you need help?" offered the princess, getting the colt to shake his head and stand.
He jittered in place as he looked towards the door. "No, I can do it myself like a big colt," he said, quickly jumping off the side of the bed and scurrying to the door. He ran out, but poked his head back in. "Be right back! Don't start reading without me!"
"We won't," Pure promised. "Remember to wash your hooves after, though! You always forget."
The colt blushed and mumbled, "I won't..."
Celestia looked down at the filly questioningly when her brother was out of the room, and she answered without prompting. "He has to use the potty. It's gonna take a couple minutes for him to get back though. The closest bathroom is kind of far."
"Ah, I see." Celestia looked to the door with a small frown. "Perhaps I should have taken him, then. He seemed like he really needed to go, and I could have carried him there faster."
Pure waved off her fears and looked towards the bookcase. "Don't worry. He hasn't had an accident in the hall in forever. He'll make it. Now, what book should we read next? I'll let you choose, if you want."
Blinking a few times at the comment, Celestia decided not to press. Blueblood was just a colt; accidents were nothing to be ashamed of for him and it was none of her business. "Hmm, I'm not sure... Honestly, I haven't read many of your books, so any would do."
"Well, I have plenty of new ones still, so any on the top shelf should do," Pure suggested. "Being asleep so long really put me behind on my reading."
The princess couldn't suppress the wince at that, glancing towards the entrance. Blueblood hadn't returned yet and she couldn't hear his hoofsteps approaching. This would probably be the only time she had alone with the filly before she left. "Yes, you did sleep for quite a long time..." she started, looking down at her niece with a sad expression. "I'm... I'm sorry that happened to you, Pureblood."
The filly looked at her owlishly. "Why? You didn't do anything. It was just an accident."
"Yes, but I still feel I could have done more to prevent it, and that I didn't is what I'm sorry for." Celestia sighed and looked back towards the window. She could feel the sun nearing the horizon and the time she would have to put it to rest drew close. "None of that should have happened to you. It shouldn't have been possible."
"Aunty Celestia, please don't be sad," Pure said as she placed a hoof on the mare's chest and looked up sadly. "Everypony has been saying how sorry they are, or how mad they are at Twilight, a-and, it just makes me feel awful." She sniffled, but continued. "It was an accident, but everypony is upset still. I don't want ponies to be sad because of me, or mad at Twilight because of something she didn't even mean to do."
"Pure, I..." Celestia didn't know what to say. She wanted to apologize for making the filly distressed, but seeing it was her apology that caused this, she hesitated to do so.
Pureblood wiped at her nose and looked down for second, letting her hoof fall back to the bed. "Twilight's your student now, right?" she asked suddenly. "You see her a lot?"
"Well, yes," answered the mare. "I've been teaching her to better control her magic so there is not a repeat of the exams... That's what she wants to focus on most, at least." That had actually been the filly's own request to Celestia when she was calmed enough to talk. Having learned she had hurt another pony with her surge, Twilight had been devastated, then adamant later about mastering her own magic.
"Is she... Twilight isn't blaming herself too, is she?" Pure questioned hesitantly.
Something in her eyes was pleading, yet also knowing, and Celestia decided against lying. "... Yes."
Closing her eyes, the filly took a deep breath. "Can you tell her not to? Tell her I'm not mad? Our friends have been trying to talk to her, but she won't see them. Maybe... maybe you can tell her to come visit?"
"I'll pass along the message," Celestia told her, getting Pure to nod her head.
"She really doesn't have to blame herself," the filly continued. "It wasn't even that bad, really. It was kind of like a really long nap. I can barely even remember it..."
Celestia tilted her head inquisitively. "Remember it? The accident, you mean?"
"No," Pure said, shrugging a little. "I don't remember that too well either, but I meant sleeping for all that time. I can barely remember what it was like."
"You... were aware?" the alicorn pressed, almost afraid of the answer. She, along with her doctors, merely assumed Pure was in a dreamless coma, but to claim otherwise... What would it have been like to be stuck inside ones head with no escape to be found?
"Um, maybe? I think I had a long dream and... yeah, it could have been scary, but it was still just a dream," the filly said, tucking her legs underneath her and lowering her head. "Dreams can't hurt you... Not really."
Already, Celestia was contemplating contacting the best foal psychiatrist she could find even as she asked, "Do you remember what you dreamed about? You said earlier that you barely could, but..."
"Not really." She scrunched her nose a little. "Just some voices maybe."
"What kind of voices?"
"I'm not sure... Well, except for maybe one... and the color blue."
"A... Blue voice?"
"Yeah, and it talked funny, like with thous and thees and stuff."
Celestia's heart froze, along with the breath in her lungs. After a few seconds, she forced herself to breathe out slowly. "Is... is that so?"
"Mhmm."
"And... what did this voice say?"
"Mmm, not sure. It helped me though. I remember that."
Celestia was surprised to hear that, then instantly felt guilty for it. "Oh... I'm glad."
"Yeah, I think I was having a nightmare, but the voice made it stop. Um, that was right before I woke up."
Licking her dry lips, the princess nodded lightly. "It sounds like you had a very hard time while you were asleep."
Pure hummed noncommittally, rolling some fuzz on the sheets with a hoof. "Maybe... It's fine though 'cause I don't remember most of it. What I do is only because I tried to remember it."
Celestia leaned down and nuzzled the filly's blonde mane. "If that's true, then I'm glad, but Pureblood, if it does bother you, don't think you can't tell anypony. None of us will be mad if you ask for help. Remember, you'll always have ponies to talk to if you need."
"I know that," she mumbled, stretching out her neck to return the alicorn's nuzzle. "Thanks, Aunty."
Celestia smiled. "You're welcome, Pure." Her ears flicked towards the door just then, and her smile grew a little wider. Blueblood entered a moment later looking far more relieved than when he scurried out.
"Phew, there, now we can read the next book," he said, making his way towards the bed. "What one did you pick?"
The colt stopped, then frowned. "Really? What have you been doing this whole time?"
"There are quite a few to choose from," she answered, getting her nephew to huff.
"You sure are lucky I'm going to become a prince to help you, Aunty," Blueblood said, changing course to the bookcase. "I can help you make choices faster so you don't spend all day on them. Here, let's read this one, The Polka Dotted Zebra Tries to Make friends."
"Ooh, sounds interesting," Pure said.
Blueblood climbed up on the bed, book clasped in his teeth. "Ah knuw. Ish wha Ah tol Mommy ta ge eet." He spat it out and smiled. "Since Pure and me read that last one, I think Aunty Celestia should read this one."
"Well, that certainly sounds fair," Celestia agreed with a nod. She picked up the book and the foals quickly got back into comfortable positions. Opening to the first page, the princess did her best to entertain the twins, even going so far as to try different voices for the different characters.
Reading did well to focus her mind away from other thoughts, though she knew Pure's words would be plaguing her later that night.
This would be especially true when she lowered the sun below the horizon and tugged the moon from its slumber. Princess Celestia would spend so much time staring at the silhouette of her sister on the moon, that guards who could see her would worry, and she'd have to slog through her morning duties, exhausted from poor sleep.
For now, though, she focused on the little ones with her, and finding out if the polka dotted zebra would find someone who liked him despite his oddities.
Much to all three ponies' relief, he did, with the shortest giraffe on the plains.
It has been two weeks since the day Aunty Celestia visited. Two weeks since I learned just how much Twilight has suffered due to my condition. Two weeks since I had asked if Celestia could help me talk to her.
And now, it's finally happening.
Celestia sent word yesterday that she, along with the filly's parents, have finally convinced her to talk to me, and detailed where I would meet her. I don't know why I simply couldn't go to her house instead of going to the castle, but I don't really care. Mom and Dad were fine with taking Bluey and me, even if he's been in a sour mood the entire trip.
"Do you really have to sulk?" I ask in a whisper from Mom's back, staring across to the passenger on my father's back. "Twilight's my friend, and I want to see her."
"I'm not sulking," Blueblood counters with a huff. "I just don't think it's safe. That filly blew up a room, remember?"
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I was there. It's kinda hard to forget."
This just makes the colt frown deeper. "What if it happens again? You could end up like before." he bites his lip and looks away. "I don't want to see you in a hospital bed again..."
"None of us want that, son," Dad suddenly speaks up, looking over his shoulder with a soft smile. "And your mother and I certainly wouldn't be allowing Pureblood to do this if we thought there was a chance of that happening."
"That's right," Mom pitches in, though her smile seems a little more forced. "Your Aunty Celestia is going to be there, and you can trust that she won't let your sister come to harm."
"Exactly!" I chirp, smiling reassuringly. "Aunty Celestia is the princess of the whole kingdom, after all. Making sure nothing bad happens between Twilight and me is going to be easy compared to that."
Bluey looks like he might argue, but that would mean doubting his aunt, and he can't bring himself to do that. Just then, our group is halted by the guards at the Castle's front entrance. Really, that walk from the gate to the door is even longer than the one back at our house.
"Sir Blueblood, Lady Garden, you're expected," says one guard, mirroring his partner as he steps aside. "Princess Celestia awaits you in her personal study."
"Thank you, gentlestallions," Dad says with an easy smile as Mom gives her own quick thanks.
"Hi, Mister Guards," I say as we pass, waving while Bluey sends a sloppy salute. One guard waves while the other salutes back, a smirk tugging at his lips before he smooths his expression back to a stern, forward facing glare. I giggle and Bluey puffs up proudly.
Boys are so silly.
Despite being far from recovered from my ordeal, I feel much better than I did when I first woke up, and happily wave at all the ponies we pass. After spending so much time stuck at home with only my family and the occasional visit from my friends to break up the monotony, I try to savor this little bit of socializing and time outside the house while I can.
Still, there's one disadvantage to being out and about, and I experience it multiple times as we walk through the castle halls. Every time we pass a pony with magic on their horn, I flinch. Ponies pushing carts and those sweeping unknowingly send spikes of pain down my horn.
Mom is frowning worriedly, but remains quiet. The same thing had happened on the way here more than a few times, and I had told my parents that I could handle it. It really wasn't that bad, feeling sort of like rubber band snaps in my head. I've felt worse training with Grandpa.
Luckily, it doesn't take too long to get to Celestia's personal study, and we enter to see the mare herself, her mane already draping to the floor and pink. Instantly, she looks up and smiles. "Nephew, Ornate, I'm so glad to see you both," she says, standing and walking towards us. As she does, she tilts her head to the side, and her smile widens as she sees Bluey and me, the former now standing with a front leg propped on dad's head while the other waves frantically.
"Hi, Aunty!" the colt shouts, reaching out as soon as the tall mare is within range. Celestia obliges and picks him up, much to Dad's relief as he brings a hoof up to smooth his mane and massage his scalp.
As the princess turns to look at me, I reach out as well, though not as enthusiastically. It takes a moment to arrange us into the crook of her foreleg, especially without magic, but soon, we're comfy and receiving nuzzles, which we happily return. "And if it isn't two of my favorite little ponies. How have you been? Read any new books since my visit?"
"Yeah," I answer with a nod. "We finished all my new stuff, but Mommy says we can go out to get more. Maybe even today before we go home!"
The excitement must have been clear in my voice as Celestia giggles. "Oh, that does sound fun." She looks suddenly thoughtful. "You know, I just so happen to have gone book shopping myself and picked up some new reading material." As she's saying this, she walks back towards her desk, and once she's behind it, she pulls open a drawer. "Maybe we can read them together next time I come to visit."
There in the drawer, are three thin books, and I gasp. "You have new books?!"
"Mhm." She gestures to the shelves around the room and frowns. "But wouldn't you know it, I'm all out of shelf space and have nowhere to put them. Good books shouldn't be stuck in a dusty old drawer. If only I knew some responsible ponies who could take care of them for me."
Even knowing what she's up to, I still wave a hoof eagerly. "Bluey and I can do it! I have plenty of space on my shelves!"
"Yeah, and I can guard them!" my brother chimes in. "I won't let any bad ponies steal your books! I bet they'd want them 'cause they belong to you, and you're the most important pony in Equestria."
"That would certainly put my mind at ease," the alicorn muses. "But are you sure?"
"Of course," I answer without hesitation. "We'll even wait until you can come over before we read them so we can do it together."
"Aha! You can count on us, Aunty!" Blueblood adds, giving another sloppy salute. "Your books will be safe and ready to read for when you come over."
"That certainly is a relief," she answers, giving us each another nuzzle. "I gratefully accept your offer. I'm so glad I have such wonderful ponies like you to help me in my time of need."
"Any time, Aunty," Bluey says seriously. "You just call, and me and Pure will be ready to help, no matter what."
I agree wholeheartedly, then look down at the books in the drawer. For a moment, I'm tempted to pull them out and study their covers, but I bite my lip and force my eyes back up to Celestia. "Um, Aunty, as much as I really want to look at the books, and I really want to, where's Twilight?"
Her smile dims while Blueblood's drops completely. Even Mom and Dad seem to tense. "She's currently in her tower - I offered it to her as her private study for when she's at the castle and I'm not with her." She takes a deep breath and tries to sound jovial. "It's a library in itself, so you can imagine she's taken quite a liking to it. She spends practically all of her free time there, reading... alone."
"Oh," is all I manage. "Can I go talk to her."
"That is why you're here," Celestia says, looking to my parents. "She's shy around strangers, though, so if I could ask... Do you two mind staying here while Pureblood and I go to see my student."
"I don't really know if that's a good idea," Mom says hesitantly, getting Dad to place a hoof gently on her shoulder.
"I'm sure it'll be fine," he says. "There's no safer place for our daughter to be than with Aunty Celestia. She won't let a repeat of... the incident happen again, right?"
"Of course," Celestia says seriously. "This is merely a talk, not a magic test. I've already made it clear to Twilight to not use magic around Pureblood, and she listens very well."
"I'm coming, too," Bluey pipes in. "I'm not gonna leave Pure's side."
"I suppose, since you're classmates, she probably already knows you," Celestia muses, looking down to me.
There's a question in her eyes, and I have the same on my mind. "Bluey," I say. "Twilight is my friend, remember, and I'm here to talk to her so we can keep being friends..."
"I won't yell at her," the colt grumps, crossing his hooves and adding under his breath, "Even if she deserves it."
I ignore the last part and try to smile. "Thanks. It really means a lot to me."
With that settled, Mom and Dad give us each a quick peck on the forehead before helping Celestia put us on her back. Then we're off through the halls. I'm not really interested in the path we take, instead trying to think of what I'm going to say to Twilight when I finally see her, but I do notice when we end up outside.
Blinking against the bright sunlight, I look around to see a part of the castle grounds I haven't been, and spot a large spire in the direction we're heading. Sure enough, that ends up being our destination as Aunt Celestia walks up the steps, taking extra care to go it slow as to not bounce my brother or me off her back.
I expect for her to simply open the doors and enter, seeing as how it is technically part of her castle, but instead, the Princess of Equestria knocks and waits patiently. Leaning out over Celestia's left shoulder to look past her neck as Blueblood does the same over her right, I flick my ears forward and listen. I can just barely hear voices, and am confused by the sound of a boy speaking.
They get louder, harsh whispers coming through the door, until finally, it opens part way and a head pops out. It's certainly not Twilight, this pony being a white colt with a blue mane and eyes. He looks like he's a fair bit older than me and Bluey, but still a long way off from being an adult. Maybe Cadance's age.
"Princess Celestia!" he starts, voice cracking. He clears his throat and continues, "I mean, Princess." He looks over at us, then back to Celestia. "Um, is Twilight's guest here?"
She smiles down at him and nods, gesturing to her left towards me. "Yes, This is Twilight's friend, Pureblood, who's come to talk to your sister. May we come in?"
"Uh, just a sec," he answers, shutting the door. The whispering starts back up, and after a minute, he pops his head back out, looking sheepish. "Twily... doesn't think that's a good idea."
Celestia raises a brow. "What do you mean, Shining Armor? I thought young Twilight had already agreed to this."
"She did!" he quickly assures. "She just doesn't think it's a good idea to, you know... be in the same room as Pureblood." He looks over his shoulder, expression becoming sad. "She says she might accidentally hurt her."
"So what?" Bluey pipes up irritably. "We just go home after coming all the way here?" He seems to mull this over for second, then smiles. "Okay! Let's go home, Pure! You can come, too, Aunty, and we can read those new books!"
"Bluey!" I say, indignant.
"Shining, can you ask Twilight to reconsider, please?" Celestia asks. "I believe it would be good for her if she had a talk with Pureblood."
"Er, yeah, just a sec," he answers, ducking back inside. Blueblood huffs while I glare at him and Shining resumes talking to his sister behind the door.
It's so frustrating, especially knowing Twilight is right there with just some wood between us. I can even recognize her voice now that I realize who it is the new colt is talking to. In fact...
"Twilight!" I call. "I know you're right behind the door! If you're afraid of me coming in, then I'll stay outside and we can talk right here!"
The two other siblings cease their arguing, and then, "A door didn't keep you safe last time," a shaky voice calls out.
"This isn't like last time!" I counter, peeking over Celestia's side and shuffling my hooves. The alicorn must have realized my intent, because she gently uses a wing and hoof to pick me up and lower me to the stone ground. Stepping up to the door so that I don't have to yell, I continue, "You aren't doing a test and you're not going to use your magic, right?"
"No..."
"Then it's perfectly safe for us to talk," I conclude. "And besides, doors help a lot. Magic doesn't hurt as much when it's behind doors and walls."
"... Really?" is the hesitant response.
"Yep," I chirp. "So can we talk?"
It's quiet for a second, then the colt speaks up, urging her to agree, and finally, Twilight answers, "I... I guess."
"Great!" I cheer.
"But you have to stay out there," she affirms. "It's safer."
"That's fine. It's very nice out today."
"Shining," Celestia calls. "Would you like to join Blueblood and me out here? I think it's for the best if we step away to allow the girls some privacy. I believe that would make Twilight more comfortable, right, my student?"
"... If you don't mind, Princess."
"Of course not," she says over my brother's protests. "We'll be just at the bottom of the steps if you need us."
The door opens, the older colt stepping out after a reassuring hug to his sister. As he passes me, he smiles, but it doesn't reach his worried eyes. I try to smile, but I can't keep the hesitance out of my expression. I look down just in time to see Twilight's face, and my heart stutters.
Her mane is full of split ends and there are bags under her bloodshot eyes that should never be on a pony so young. She meets my gaze for a moment, then winces and pushes the door shut with a bang. I flinch at the sound and gulp, but when Celestia asks if I'm alright, I just smile and nod.
I wait until the other three ponies are down the stairs, all of them staring up at me, before I speak. "Hey, Twilight," I start lamely. "So... Aunty Celestia's student, huh? That must be cool."
It's silent for nearly ten seconds, then, "It is. She's a really good teacher."
"You're pretty lucky," I say, relaxing a little. "She's super nice and knows a lot. Plus you get to spend a lot of time with her. She's busy most of the time, so Bluey and I don't get to see her a whole lot."
"I'm sorry," she squeaks through the door, instantly making me tense again. "I didn't mean to- I don't want to take her from you, o-or anything like that."
"No, no," I say hurriedly. "I wasn't saying I was mad. I'm fine with you being her student! Happy even! She's teaching you control, right?" She's sniffling now, and I resist the urge to smack my head against the barrier between us. "I'm not saying that's good because of what happened at the exam. I just mean, it's good to learn as much as you can, right? I'm sure you'll have that down in no time and you'll start on, I don't know, fire magic or something." There's a hiccup, and I step closer, speaking in the gentlest voice I can. "Please don't cry, Twilight. I'm not mad."
"B-but why not?" she replies, choking down on a sob. "You came here to yell at me, right? B-because I hurt you real bad and put you in the hospital. You have to be mad."
"Twilight," I begin, trying to convey how much I mean these next words through my voice alone. "I am not mad, and I didn't come to yell at you."
"...How?" she whispers, my ears barely able to pick it up. "How aren't you mad?"
"I'm not mad, because you didn't mean for me to get hurt," I explain. "It was an accident, right? You didn't mean for it to happen."
"O-of course I didn't, but it still happened," she answers. "A-and you don't know the worst part still, 'cause if you did, you'd hate me for sure."
My brow furrows as I work through what she said. "What do you mean? What else is there to know? You had a magic surge on accident, it... put me to sleep for a while, and now I'm awake."
"When it happened," she starts. "I was so scared that I ruined everything, that Princess Celestia was going to lock me in the dungeons for sure, and when I found out somepony got hurt, I was even more sure. Then Princess Celestia came to me, and I learned it was you who got hurt, her family, and I cried so hard, b-because my life was over.
"But I wasn't in trouble. Instead, she was going to make me her student, and that's why I'm a bad pony. I was so... happy. Happy that I wasn't going to be banished. Happy that I was going to be Princess Celestia's student... When she told me, all I could be was happy for myself, and you were in the hospital." She snorts wetly, then continues. "I even got my cutie mark! And I was happy for that, too! I got my cutie mark hurting another pony, and at first, all I could think is how great it was! It wasn't until night time, when I was in bed, that I finally thought about you. Really thought. I had hurt you, I didn't know how bad. I didn't ask. A-and I remembered the princess' face, and how she wasn't smiling. She looked sad, but I didn't even notice.
"I'm a horrible pony," she concludes in a despairing whisper that causes my heart to clench. There's nothing but the sound of barely restrained crying for nearly two minutes as I work my mouth fruitlessly. I don't know what I can say but I know I have to say something.
"You're not a bad pony," I decide, because it's what I believe.
"How can you still say that?"
"You were scared and confused. It makes sense that it took you awhile to work everything out in your head," I try to explain. "Sometimes, when things happen, big things that you never thought could happen, you just don't know what to feel. I think- I know that's what happened to you. It doesn't make you bad."
"I'm pretty sure it does," she counters. "Only the bad ponies in my story books feel happy when they hurt others."
"But you weren't happy that night," I quickly point out. "And you aren't happy now, right? You wouldn't use your magic right now because you know it would hurt me, and you don't want that, right?"
"Of course not!" she yells.
I press my hoof to the door and do the same with my advantage. "See?! You don't want to hurt me!"
"That's different!"
"It is, because the first time around, it was an accident... Or maybe that makes it the same, because you didn't want to hurt me then, either?" I breathe in deep and try to calm myself and the thoughts spinning around in my head. It's certainly not helping the ache behind my eyes from all the magic I felt today.
We're going in circles, and I know I need to try something different. "Listen, Twilight, what is it you do want? Do you want me to forgive you? Because I do, but it sounds like maybe that's not what you want."
"I... I just want to learn more," she says.
I blink a few times. "That's all?"
"When I'm studying, things make sense. I just read the words, and I remember them. I don't make anypony mad or hurt them. It's safe... Safe for everypony." Her voice is steadier now, almost resigned. "When the others came to my house and wanted to talk to me, I was afraid. I thought they were going to hate me and yell at me. Shiny said they wouldn't and that they just wanted to be good friends, but... then I was afraid for another reason. I don't know how to be a good friend. I hurt you, right? Even if I didn't mean to, I thought that I would just do it again.
"I don't know enough to be good, and that's why Princess Celestia made me her student. It's because I'm bad, but she wants to help me by teaching me. She's the most good pony in Equestria, right? If any pony knows how to make me good, make me safe, it's her, r-right?"
There's a desperation in her voice that I don't know how respond to, and I'm starting to realize that we're both really confused and lost in all of this. It should be simple. She says she's sorry for hurting me, and I tell her it's okay, and then we go back to being friends. Maybe even better friends if she didn't ignore us as much.
That's how these things are supposed to go, but it's not happening, and I don't know why. "Yeah," I finally manage. "That's right. Aunty Celestia can help." I hope with all my heart that she can, because I'm starting to think that I can't. "Twilight... Even if you think you're bad, even if you think I should hate you for what happened, I really, really don't. Just... remember that, okay? I'll always be your friend, and I'm sure the other girls will be too, so when you're ready, we'll be waiting."
"... Okay."
I smile weakly. "Hey, Twilight?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I write you letters?" I ask. "I can tell you what we're all doing and stuff, so when you're ready to spend time with us again, you'll know what's been going on."
"That's... fine."
"Good, good," I manage. "And... maybe you can write some letters, too? Tell me how your studies are going. What kind of stuff you're learning."
"Why?"
I shrug, rubbing one foreleg with the other. "I'm sure you're going to learn all sorts of cool stuff, and it'll be cool to read about." Really, I just want her to have an avenue to stay connected with me in the hopes that maybe, just maybe she'll end up writing in a letter that she wants to see each other again. It might be a long shot, but it's all I can think of at the moment.
"I guess I can try," she answers uncertainly.
"That's fine," I assure her, then I look behind me. The others are still there, watching with worry in the case of Blueblood, hope from Shining, and a combination of both on Aunty Celestia's face. "I guess... this is it, then."
"Sorry," she says again.
"For what?"
"You sound sad."
I sigh softly. "I am sad, but it's alright as long as we can still be friends."
"Maybe, when Princess Celestia teaches me enough to be good, we can read together like you do with Moondancer?"
I can't help but smile at that, the first real sign that I'm not the only one reaching out right now. "I'd like that, and I bet Moondancer would, too." The filly hums noncommittally, and I take a step back. "Bye for now, Twilight."
"Bye, Pure."
Without another word, I move to the edge of the stairs, and see Celestia already making her way up to greet me. "Are you two finished talking?" she asks.
"Yeah," I answer glancing over my shoulder before looking to meet the older colt's stare. "Um, I think she really needs her big brother right now... I kind of need mine, too."
Bluey almost falls off of Celestia's back before she manages to get him down, and he's hugging me as Shining rushes past us to comfort his sister. "Did she hurt you?" my brother asks angrily. "If she did, I'll-"
"I'm fine, Bluey," I tell him, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing. "I'm just really tired." I look up at Celestia. "Twilight needs a lot of help, and I'm not sure I can give it to her."
Celestia closes her eyes. "Yes, I thought as much," she says sadly. She opens her eyes and gives a small smile. "And I'll do my best to provide her with it. Don't worry, Pureblood."
"I know you will." I bury my muzzle against Blueblood's neck so my next words are muffled. "Can we go back to Mom and Dad, now? I'm tired."
Celestia, along with the foals on her back, went to the kitchens, where she knew her nephew and his wife were waiting for them.
She did her best to keep the disheartened expression from her face, knowing that the twins, and especially Pure, would pick up on it if she didn't. In truth, she had truly hoped Pureblood's meeting with Twilight would have alleviated her new student's melancholy, but she realized now that she had been foolishly optimistic. She had come to expect too much from the filly on her back, especially after she had told her the seemingly impossible.
Even now, the thought that Luna, not Nightmare Moon, might have aided in Pureblood's awakening filled the alicorns heart with a myriad of conflicting feelings. Joy that her sister was not lost completely within that monster. Hope that she could be saved, and that they could be together again.
Fear of what she might be forced to do if she couldn't free Luna from the Nightmare.
"How'd it go?" the elder Blueblood asked as they arrived at the small dining area directly outside of the kitchen. There was a larger one on the other side for bigger parties, but this place was used for small lunch meetings.
It took a moment for the alicorn's thoughts to catch up, having let her mind wander while her hooves carried them here, and it was Pureblood who answered first. "Fine, I guess," she said glumly. "Twilight is still sad, but she said she'd try to write me letters."
"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," Ornate said, coming over to remove her daughter from between Celestia's wings while her husband did the same for their son. "Maybe she just needs time."
"The chefs here are making us all a snack," Blueblood continued, hoping to cheer up his filly. "They were even telling me that they'll be taking out a fresh batch of cookies from the oven soon."
Both foals perked up at that, and Celestia smiled. "That does sound lovely," she agreed. "I believe they're making shortbread today, yes?"
"Mhmm," Ornate confirmed. "And it smells amazing every time the door into the kitchen is opened. I'm even afraid that they'll be better than my chocolate chip cookies."
"Impossible!" squeaked Pure with the same look of disbelief that was on her brother's face. "Your cookies are the best."
While Ornate blushed, Celestia nodded. "I do have to admit, those cookies of yours are quite delicious."
"Coming from sweet-toothed Celestia, that's a real compliment," her nephew said with a chuckle.
Celestia giggled herself. "Well, I suppose I have eaten quite a few cookies in my time, and yours are at least in the top twenty." She sighed wistfully. "I still wish I could have Merry Macaroon's signature macaroons again. Alas, she took the recipe with her to the tomb... and the raiders I hired came back empty-hooved."
There was a choking sound as the two adults stared at the princess in shock, but then she started laughing. "I'm joking, of course. Though those macaroons were positively scrumptious."
"Right," Blueblood began, rubbing at the back of his neck, "Well-"
"Ahh!" Just then, a mare with her mob cap on fire ran into the room. "Water! Water! Sink!" she yelled, darting past the ponies in the dining area without a glance as she charged into the kitchen. There was surprised shouting before the hiss of an extinguished fire came through the swinging door.
Just then, another mare rushed in, a gurgling, purple mass bouncing on her back. "Nursery! Nursery are you alright?!" she shouted before screeching to a halt to stare at the ponies in the room. "Princess Celestia!"
"Rhyme," the princess greeted calmly, tilting her head slightly to peek around the maid's neck. "If I'm to guess, our little dragon friend here was the cause of your sister's flaming hat. What happened?"
While Ornate squeaked at the mention of a dragon and held her daughter tighter to her chest, the maid shifted the reptile from her back to her foreleg. "Um, y-yes your highness, though it wasn't his fault. I had set him down to play with his toys while I prepared a bottle of quartz powder in milk as you instructed, and he just-just vanished! I must have left the door open a crack, or-or I don't know, but he had gotten into the halls, and then my sister and I were searching for him. I still had the bottle when I left, completely forgot about it, so when we found him, I figured he could drink it on the way back, but then he burped, and Nursery's hat just went up in flames! Goddess! I had no idea how flammable they were!"
As the mare grew more frantic, the baby in her grasp began to whimper and wriggle. Celestia stepped forward, taking the infant in one hoof while reaching out with a wing to place gently on her withers. "Shh, calm yourself, Rhyme. You're scaring the little one."
"I'm..." the mare started, taking a deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry, Princess. I'm better now."
The door of the kitchen opened as the mare from before stepped out, concerned faces peeking out after her. The hat was removed from her head, and the smell of burned hair wafted from her soaked mane. "Nursery," Celestia greeted, turning to her. "Are you alright? Do you need to take the rest of the day off?"
"I'm fine, Princess," she answered tiredly, stepping forward to take the baby dragon without hesitation. She poked him on the snout, eliciting a giggle from the creature that got a tired smile to tug at her lips. "This little fella was just drinking his bottle too fast. I was probably bouncing him a bit too much on my back, as well. This was mostly my fault."
"Is that really a dragon?" Bluey interrupted, looking incredulously at the purple reptile from his place in his father's hooves. "He's even smaller than me."
"It's a baby dragon," Pure answered as she stared with a confused look. "Why is it here, though?"
"Yeah," Bluey agreed. "I thought ponies were supposed to fight dragons and stuff 'cause they foalnapped princesses..." He frowned and looked over to his sister worriedly. "It's not gonna try and foalnap Pure, is it? Aunty Celestia's too big for it to carry, but Pure's tiny."
"Hey! We're the same size almost! Maybe he'll foalnap you!"
"Nah ah! I'm the prince! I save princesses!"
"No! Grandpa says that princesses can be heroes too, and I'm a better fighter, anyway!"
"Yeah, well I can use magic!"
"Blueblood!" both parents shouted, aghast even as their son realized what he said and covered his mouth. Pure looked taken aback a moment, then scowled at her twin. A high-pitched giggle drained the room quickly of tension as all eyes went to the baby dragon, whose eyes had been darting back and forth during the whole exchange between the siblings.
"Sorry, Pure," Bluey whispered, unable to meet the other foals' gaze. "I didn't mean it. I was just being stupid."
"You were," she responded after a beat, pointing over at the dragon. "I mean, really, look at him. Does it look like he's going to foalnap anypony? He's in diapers."
It was an obvious attempt at changing the subject, and Bluey laughed a little. "I guess... That was pretty silly of me. I mean, it, um, he can't even fly. How'd he get away?"
"Right," Pure agreed, looking back over to the dragon who was sucking on the tip of his tail like a pacifier. "Um, actually, you never said how he got here, Aunty Celestia."
"I must admit, I'm curious, as well," Blueblood added as his wife nodded her agreement.
Celestia sighed. "That is quite a long story, though the abridged version would be that he came from the egg that Twilight Sparkle had hatched during the exam."
Bluey blinked in surprise. "He came from that egg?" he asked. "But I couldn't even hatch it!"
"That would be because you weren't meant to," Celestia explained. "The test was one meant to not only measure your magical prowess, but your patience and how you reacted to failure. The egg was inert - not alive - but during Twilight's surge, well..."
"Oh," Pure muttered, then gave a strained giggle. "That's going to be a weird birthday to celebrate."
The sentiment was clear, and Celestia closed her eyes. "I had intended to introduce the little one to Twilight Sparkle, seeing as she was the one who hatched him, but the memories of that day are not pleasant for the filly, and I fear that he might be an unwelcome reminder of the accident."
"It wasn't his fault, though," Pure said with a frown. "Just like it wasn't Twilight's."
"I know," Celestia agreed. "Though making Twilight believe that has been difficult."
"Um, actually, I've been meaning to ask," Ornate suddenly piped up, looking nervous. "I heard rumors around town. It's been hard not to, really, what with all the pandemonium of that day, but some ponies have mentioned that there was a large explosion of color in the sky when the incident occurred..."
"Ah, yes," Celestia said with a nod. "I know what you're talking about, and what some ponies are saying."
"And...?" Ornate prompted. "Is it true? I mean, it'd be easy to say it was just another part of Twilight's surge, but I've heard it happened before."
"Yes, that's true," the princess confirmed with a sigh. "Though the origins are still under investigation, and the answers haven't been forthcoming."
"There was an explosion?" Pure piped up curiously.
"Yes, and having asked Twilight, it's actually what had set off her surge," explained Celestia. "Though she's adamant about shouldering the blame entirely on her own, it's clear that it was in fact the stress brought on by believing she had failed the exam, then being frightened by the explosion."
"And yet you still haven't discovered the source?" Blueblood asked skeptically. "How is that possible? Surely something like that would have a pretty clear origin."
"You'd think so," Celestia agreed, "And my first instinct was that it had been a weather factory explosion or something similar, especially seeing as how it came from the direction of Cloudsdale, but word from there is that they're just as confused as the rest of us."
"So it really wasn't Twilight's fault," Pureblood suddenly uttered in awe. "She's beating herself up over something she didn't even do."
"She still did the surge thing," Bluey pointed out, sounding bitter. "Just 'cause she got scared by a big sound doesn't mean it wasn't her that hurt you."
"But it was an accident!" Pure shouted back. "Even more an accident than before, so she shouldn't be sad." Her eyes lock on the dragon. "And... and even if she should blame herself for some of the stuff that happened, she's been ignoring the good stuff."
Ornate was the first to speak up among the confused adults. "Good? Pure, what do you mean?" Celestia was wondering that, as well, seeing as the filly was the one who was hospitalized.
"She became Aunty's student," she explained. "That's good, but she only thinks you did it because she's bad and needs to be taught to be good." She pointed at the dragon, who had started nodding off, his head resting against the chest of the silent caretaker holding him. "And the baby. He wouldn't be here without Twilight. It can only be a good thing that he was born, but you're afraid that he'll just remind Twilight of the accident." She pouted. "That's not right. You should take him to Twilight and tell her how good it is. He's isn't a reminder of the bad stuff she did, he's a reminder of the good."
The room fell silent as all eyes locked onto the filly, who in turn began to lose the stalwart resolution from a moment ago as she squirmed. "Um, right?" she asked hesitantly.
Celestia smiled, stepping forward to nuzzle her. "Right, that was very well said, Pureblood, and very sound advice."
Her mother hugged her tight. "That's my daughter. Sometimes I think she's wiser than us grownups."
"Won't be long, and she'll be handling the family finances," Blueblood chuckled as he looked down at his son with a proud smile. "I believe, dear, that we have two of the most incredible foals in Equestria."
"Yep," Bluey agreed with a confident nod. "We are pretty great, and if Pure says the dragon should see Twilight, than he should." Under his breath, he added, "Then if he does foalnap somepony, it'll be her."
The adults all had a laugh at that before the mare, Nursery, moved to stand by her sister. The baby dragon in her grasp had awoken at all the sudden sound, looking around with a curious expression before deciding to add his own peal of high-pitched, happy giggles to the mix. Bluey didn't seem to know what was so funny, and was too busy shrinking under his sister's baleful glare.
"Well, I think we've dallied long enough," Rhyme said, reaching over to tickle the baby dragon's belly, much to his delight. "After his bottle, and all of the excitement, this one is no doubt in dire need of a nap."
"Him and me both," heaved Nursery as she ran a hoof through her damp, singed mane. "And a visit to the manedresser."
"I'll arrange for you to be reimbursed when you do," Celestia told her. "You shouldn't have to pay for getting your mane fixed because of a workplace mishap." Nursery looked ready to protest, but the princess cut her off with a firm, "I insist."
"That's..." Nursery started to say, then sighed and smiled. "Yes, Princess, thank you for the kindness."
As the two left with their infant charge in tow, Rhyme could be heard whispering, "Since the princess is going to pay, do you think you can try out one of those fancy salons on Saddle Street?"
"Rhyme!"
"What? You've always wanted to go!"
As the two continued their hushed argument, Celestia smiled and shook her head. Just then, the door to the kitchen opened, and a chef poked his head out, eyes scanning the room. "Um, sorry to interrupt, but... lunch is ready, if you would all like to eat."
"The cookies are done?" squeaked Pureblood excitedly, getting her brother's ears to perk up.
The chef smiled at the filly and nodded. After that, the food was brought out and the group ate happily. Despite the difficulties of the day, a tray of freshly baked shortbread cookies helped tremendously, and between the twins and alicorn, there were none left at the end of the meal.
Once the food was tucked away, it was time for her nephew and his family to go home, along with the books Celestia had bought for the foals. Seeing them off at the entrance of the castle, Celestia turned her gaze to the tower she had gifted her new student, and resolved to go speak with the filly as soon as possible.
It was news to the princess when Pureblood had said Twilight believed her position under Celestia's tutelage to be some sort of punishment, and she had every intention of setting her straight. Though she'd only known her for a short time, Celestia could see the intelligence and talent hidden beneath the young filly's closed-off demeanor, and she did not intend to let it be smothered by self-hatred.
Thinking on what else her niece had said, Celestia decided that she'd also be introducing Twilight to the dragon she had hatched. It is as Pureblood said, after all. It's because of Twilight that the infant even drew breath now, and that was something the gifted foal could take pride in.
She'd been holding off on giving the dragon an official name, having been unsure on whether or not she should find him a dragon family to take him in, as difficult a task that would prove, but perhaps it was time to forge him a proper birth certificate and make him an Equestrian citizen. She could even ask her student to help come up with a name.
Yes, Celestia decided, that sounded like an excellent idea.
Hey, Twilight, I heard from Aunt Celestia that you've mastered the luminous orb spell. Congratulations!
Blueblood insisted he learn the spell as soon as he heard you did, but he's already getting frustrated. It's only been a week, and every pony is telling him he can take all the time he needs, but when Aunty let slip it took you only two weeks to learn, he suddenly started treating it like a competition.
Colts, right?
As for me, my studies have been going pretty good. Not so much on the magic side, but with things like math and writing. School's actually been kind of nice. I get out of the house and get to learn new things. I'm sure you can agree, unlike our other friends. They always tease me because of how much I'm liking school, but that's because they don't get it.
Look at Moondancer. Whenever I see her, she's always so excited to tell me about what she learned at Celestia's school that day. Even though the classes stress her out sometimes, she still loves learning something new. I kind of wish I could relate with her better, though. Honestly, I'm still working hard on my levitation, but I'm barely good enough to write a few sentences. Meanwhile, Moondancer is talking about all these spells I can't even imagine casting.
Maybe she'd have more fun talking to you about these sorts of things? You should try some time; I'm sure she'd be happy to hang out if you asked. I could ask for you, if you want. Maybe give it some thought.
Anyway, other than that, same old, same old. How have you been? Besides learning a new spell, did anything interesting happen? How are you and Spike getting along? How about Shining Armor? I really don't envy you on that front. I love my brother, but I think I'd go crazy if I had two of them.
Hope to hear from you soon!
Pureblood.
Okay, Twilight, I need to know what's up with Shining and Cadence. When I was at the castle the other day, we were having tea in the gardens when Aunt Celestia started talking about your brother.
Cadence kept getting more and more red and kept saying he was just her friend whenever Aunty pointed out all the time they have been spending together. And Aunt Celestia had that smile on her face the whole time, too. You know the one, like she knows a secret, but isn't telling.
Is Shining acting weird? Ask him about Cadence and see if he gets all red like her. I'm sure we can get to the bottom of this if we work together. I have a theory, but I don't want to go jumping to conclusions.
Anyway, Aunt Celestia says you're going to be celebrating Spike's birthday this week at your house. Sounds like fun! Make sure you tell the little guy Happy Birthday from me. I mean, I'm sending a card and some nice gemstones Grandpa Shield found for me, but I still need somepony to shout it out. Happy Birthdays on paper aren't half as good as when somepony cheers it for you. It's a fact.
I hope Spike can blow out the candles. I can't stop imagining him trying, only to light them again with fire breath. The thought keeps making me giggle.
Hope you all have a great time, especially the birthday dragon.
Pureblood.
I started reading Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone after you told me about it.
It's. So. Good!
I can't believe what I was missing this whole time! Sure, it's only been out for a year, but still. Thanks for the suggestion. I've been trying to get the others to read it, but none of them have yet. Can you believe our friends sometimes? How can they not see how great books are? Moondancer at least says she'll read it after some tests coming up. She's really worried because it's the end of the school year and these tests are important, but I keep reminding her she's a straight A student. Maybe someday she'll remember that and not panic so much.
Well, anyway, the book's been great so far. I only have a couple chapters left. I know you're probably wondering why I'm not done with it yet, but that's because I'm not reading it by myself. Whoever says my brother doesn't have good taste in books really doesn't know him that well. He's almost been as into it as me. Maybe I can get him to write the next letter with me so he can say what all his favorite parts were? That'd be fun.
Until then, you should tell me all about the parts you liked. I'll be done for sure by the time you send a letter back, so you won't have to worry about spoiling anything for me. I can't wait to read your thoughts about it.
Pureblood.
Lyra got her cutie mark!
Can you believe it? First Twinkle Shine, then Moondancer, and now Lyra. It's amazing, especially because I was sure Minuette was going to get her mark first. She's always so energetic and gets stuff done so fast, it just seemed obvious. Now I don't know who's going to get theirs next, her, or Lemon Heart.
As for Lyra, she got her mark for playing the lyre. Kind of obvious thinking back, but it's still great. And you should have heard her playing when she got it, too! She's amazing! It was at that talent show, you know, the one I was telling you about that my Grampy let them do at his theater. She was really nervous after hearing that cellist filly play, but even though she didn't win, after she got her mark, she didn't care.
Anyway, her cute-ceañera will be this weekend if you want to come. Don't feel obligated, though. We'll understand if you aren't comfortable with being around so many ponies at once. You can just send a card and gift if you want. I'm trying to think of something different to get her on account of how a lot of our friends are getting her music stuff, like replacement strings for her lyre. Moondancer is even getting her a metronome. My first instinct was a book, but that's something I would want, even if I can think of a bunch of books she'd totally like.
Have any ideas? Maybe we can work out a paired gift? Hope to hear back from you soon! We need to get on this fast if we do it. We only have a few days before the party.
Pureblood.
Blueblood got his cutie mark and it's the craziest story ever!
Honestly, I'm stuck between disbelief, joy, and maybe just a little bit of disappointment that I wasn't there to see it. So Blueblood and the rest of the Canterlot Colt Chevaliers went on their camping trip. The one down in the Canterhorn woods I told you about. Well, apparently the Chevalier commander ended up eating some bad berries he gathered and got pretty sick.
Luckily one of the colts with Blueblood properly identified the berries before the others ate them too, so they avoided getting sick themselves. Just another example of reading enthusiast superiority if you ask me, since apparently the colt who stopped them was the one always reading all the survival books and manuals. Bookworms for the win, am I right?
Anyway, with the commander out of commission with the mother of all tummy aches, and them being deep in the middle of the woods, the Chevaliers were panicking pretty hard. I guess the commander was even getting so delirious that he couldn't even tell which way of the map was up.
Then's when my awesome brother stepped up and took over. He calmed the other colts down, had them make a stretcher for the commander out of the tents, had his friend who had all the manuals memorized take point with him to make sure they avoided any poisonous plants, and took the map to guide them back out of the woods.
The way he tells it, they had all sorts of adventures and daring encounters on the way back, but I'll let him tell you that stuff. He loves telling the story himself, adding a new monster encounter with each iteration, but the end result is what matters most. When they finally reached the railway and followed it back to the station, they were in the clear, and as they cheered, that's when Blue got his mark.
It's a blue and gold compass rose, which is pretty fitting since he got it while reading a map, right? I'm joking, but it's funny watching him get all huffy when you say his special talent is map reading. His talent is apparently not just being good with literal directions, but being able to give direction. Dad says he's a natural born leader, and his cutie mark reflects that. I don't think I've ever seen my dad more proud of anything in my life. He's been talking about how this is just proof of how Bluey's going to be the greatest patriarch of the Blueblood House since Blueblood the First.
It's great. Everypony is so happy for him, and now every pony is trying to guess what my cutie mark is going to be. Really some of the stuff they've suggested is crazy, like I'm going to be a great author, or a scientist that revolutionizes the world, or a politician that will make Equestria an even better place. I kind of wish they wouldn't get their hopes up so much. I mean, I'm the only foal in class without a cutie mark at this point. I think if my talent was something so monumental, it'd be pretty obvious by now.
Dad says the best always comes last, but I'm worried he and every pony else will be disappointed. I'm sure my talent will just be for reading. Even Grandpa Shield's suggestion of it being something guard-related probably won't work out. Sure, I'm not half bad in a spar, but any unicorn flaring a bit of magic my way would take me out of commission, so I don't think I'd be the best at fighting bad guys.
Whatever my talent ends up being, I hope I get it soon if only so my family can stop fussing over it. Anyway, this letter's getting a little long, so I'll end it here.
Write back soon, okay? I always like reading about the new things you've learned.
Pureblood.
I got great news today!
So you probably remember me saying how I've been doing really well with my magic practice lately. About how I've gotten much better at aura smoothing and reduction, and how I can levitate a whole stone for nearly a minute. It's taken nearly two years, but I finally feel like all my practice has started to pay off, especially after my latest doctor visit.
My mana network is officially recovered and better than ever! They measured the wall thickness of my internal leylines and said they're almost within range for what's expected of a filly my age. Doctor Mend said that the damage from the accident might have even played a part, like how muscles get stronger after they've had time to heal.
Regardless of the cause, this means that I can stand to be around magic a lot more than I used to. No more having to feel like I'm making life harder for others. No more making Bluey feel like he has to leave the house to practice his magic. No more Moondancer wanting to show me new spells, but having to settle for only describing them.
And you know what else? We can finally hang out, too. My Grandpa is going to be going to the castle in a couple of days to give some sort of speech to new recruits in place of Aunty since she's in Manehatten right now, and I'm coming along so I can spend time with Cadence. We plan on having a picnic in the gardens, so it would be a great time to finally meet face to face. Maybe you can even show me a bit of what you've learned since magic kindergarten or we can just talk. Whatever you'd like, really.
Aunty should be able to tell you where Cadence and I will be having our picnic, so finding us shouldn't be an issue. If you don't have time to send a letter back before then, feel free to show up. I'm sure they'll be plenty of food, and if not, we can always swing by the kitchens and get more. I bet with two cute fillies and a princess giving them puppy dog eyes, the chefs will even give us all the desserts we want. It'll be great!
I'm practically vibrating as I'm led by a guard towards the royal gardens. Besides not having seen Cadence in what feels like ages, I'm also eager to see Twilight face to face.
The letters we've exchanged over the last couple years have been nice, and I honestly feel like we're more like true friends now than we ever were when she used to just sit quietly within our little group, but I'm looking forward to hearing her voice and having a conversation that doesn't happen over a week or more of correspondences. Really, I know she's a very busy filly, but one time it took her nearly a month to respond to one of my letters.
As great as she is with Blue and me, sometimes I worry Princess Celestia is a far less lax teacher than she is an aunt. It always seems like when Twilight does write a letter back, she mentions some big research project or test she's studying for. I've mentioned it to Moondancer, but she just nods her head as if it makes perfect sense. She's always loaded with work at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, so of course being the Princess' personal student would be even more challenging.
I don't think that should be the case, but it's also hard to openly question a mare you look up to so much. How exactly does one ask the ruler of a kingdom and one of their favorite ponies if they're overworking a filly without it sounding accusatory? I'm not sure yet, but hopefully after today, I'll have an answer.
"Princess Cadenza should be right ahead, Miss Pure. If you don't need anything else, I'll return to my post," the guard leading me says, stepping aside as we reach the edge of the garden.
I look up at the stallion and tilt my head. "Thank you, but aren't you coming with? Usually whenever I'm spending time with Aunty or Cadence, there's at least one guard not far off."
"Princess Cadenza has already chosen a guard to watch over your luncheon, insisting that Cadet Armor will be sufficient for the task," he answers.
It takes me a second to put a face to the name, but I quickly realize it must be Shining Armor and smile. No doubt he's really here to lend support to his little sister and I nod, and the guard returns the gesture before turning to leave. I hurry into the garden, quickly heading towards the center. Upon rounding a hedge, I see Cadence laid upon a red and white checkered blanket, forehooves crossed as she happily chats with an armored white colt.
I haven't seen Shining since the first time I tried to speak with Twilight after the accident, and he's clearly in the midst of his final growth spurt, standing on much longer legs that look like they haven't yet had time to thicken to match their new length. He's smiling and laughing along with the princess, but as soon as I call out, he jumps, the helmet held in the crook of one leg falling to the ground. He scrambles to pick it up and put it back on, doing so lopsided and earning giggles from both Cadence and I as I approach.
"Ah, Miss Pureblood! Hello!" he says in a forcefully deepened voice, fixing his helmet. "I was just... scanning the surroundings for danger!" He makes a show of looking this way and that, nodding. "Hmm, all clear. You ladies can rest easy and enjoy your picnic in safety."
Cadence snorts behind a hoof, a faint, "Such a dork sometimes," being heard among the giggles, causing Shining's face to burn a little brighter. "I'm so happy to see you, Pure," the alicorn continues once she drops her hoof. "Especially since it means I can finally dig into this picnic basket. I'm starving."
"I hope I didn't make you wait too long," I say as I look around, moving to sit on the blanket across from Cadence. "I know how hard it is to have delicious food right in front of you and not being able to dig in."
"It's alright," assures Cadence. "The wait makes the food taste even better."
"Heh, that's an optimistic way of looking at it," I say, looking around once more. "I guess we'll have to thank Twilight for making us wait a bit longer. It'll make filling our bellies all the more satisfying, right?"
The mood instantly changes as I say this, Cadence's smile drooping and Shining's eyes drifting sideways. My own smile begins to falter as I ask, "Um, where is Twilight, anyway? I figured she'd be here before me since, you know, she lives here. Is she in the little filly's room?"
Cadence sighs a little, smile falling away completely as she answers. "I'm sorry, Pure, but Twilight's... not coming."
Brow furrowed, I can't keep the hurt out of my voice as I ask, "Why not? She knows about this picnic, right? And that it's safe for her to be around me now that my leylines are stronger."
"She's... aware," Cadence begins uneasily.
I pout. "Does she... just not want to see me?"
"No, no-!" the alicorn starts as Shining speaks up.
"Twilight really wanted to come," he says. "She just has this big report she's working on over the last lesson she had with Princess Celestia before she went on her trip. Plus the spells she was shown that she wants to master before Celestia's return." He chuckles uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's... a really busy filly, you know?"
Pout turning into a full-fledged frown, the thoughts from earlier come flooding back. "That's wrong..."
"What was that, Pure?"
"That's wrong!" I say louder, stomping a hoof down. "Twilight's just a little filly, but she always has a bunch of work to do! She barely has time to even return my letters, and now Celestia is loading her with even more work when she's not even around? It's not fair!" I stand, tail whipping angrily behind me. "I don't care if she's a princess or my aunt, she can't be doing this to a filly! Twilight deserves to have a foalhood and friends and be allowed to play and have fun like the rest of us, and I'm going to tell her that as soon as she gets back!"
I grind my teeth, frustration overtaking me as I realize I've once again been unable to help Twilight Sparkle. That I've been stopped from doing so. Turning, I take a hard step towards the castle. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to go find Grandpa right now and have him help me send a letter!"
"Pure, wait!" Cadence shouts hurriedly, taking wing to vault over me and into my path. "It's not like that! Celestia isn't the one pushing Twilight this hard!"
I blink in confusion. "Then who-?"
"Herself," Shining says with a deep sigh, head bowed. "She's doing this to herself."
"Aunt Celestia knows Twilight's foalhood is being consumed by her studies, she's told me more than once of her worries for her," Cadence cut in. "But no matter what she does, Twilight would rather have her head in books or practicing magic or just doing homework she assigned herself."
"Princess Celestia didn't tell her to write a research paper while she was away," continues Shining. "She just decided to do it on her own because she says the princess wouldn't want her neglecting her lessons just because she's not here. She thinks it's what Celestia expects, and none of us can convince her otherwise. Like, she's got it in her head that, even if Princess Celestia tells her to not do any assignments and just relax, that it's a test to see how serious she's actually taking her apprenticeship. A test she'll fail if she actually does let herself relax."
"That... that's horrible," I say in disbelief.
"We know, believe me," Shining says, sagging a little more. "And we've tried to get her to stop. Even the princess has tried talking to her, but even when we do manage to get her to put the books down and focus on things other than practicing or studying, it only lasts for a couple of hours before she starts getting... twitchy."
"Foal anxiety and studyholism," says Cadence as she moves around me, gesturing for me to follow as she sits back on the blanket. "That's what the psychiatrist who talked to her called it... Not like they had a lot of time to work with her."
I eventually sit back down and tilt my head. "Why not? Couldn't the psychiatrist help?"
Shining shakes his head. "Seeing a doctor just made her anxiety worse. Ever since the accident, we've had to work hard to make Twilight stop believing she's some sort of danger to society, that she's just a filly who happens to have a lot of talent and not some sort of monster. As soon as she found out she was talking to a shrink, she thought it meant that she was crazy, which meant she was dangerous and would be locked up."
"That was a tough couple of weeks reassuring her that nothing like that was going to happen, and even then she doubled down on her practice as if to prove to herself that she could... fix herself," Cadence voice quivered for a second, but she clears her throat. "Regardless, she is getting better, just... slowly."
"Then why couldn't she come here today? Even if she thinks she needs to get this report done, she has plenty of time. More than enough to see a friend for an hour or two."
Shining rubs the back of his neck, looking rather awkward in response to my question as he answers, "In your last letter you wrote that your magic, uh, leylines? Were almost all better or something, right?"
"Yes? The walls of my leylines are a lot thicker now, so I can handle being around magic a lot better than I used to."
"Almost within range for a filly your age is what you wrote," Cadence says, wincing. "Almost being the key word. Twilight kind of fixated on that and was nervous that she'd do something around you that would set back your recovery."
I stare, stunned at that. Then, slowly, indignation began to bubble up inside of me. All this time, all the work I've put into getting better, improving myself, all so I can be less of an inconvenience, and Twilight still wants to treat me like that weak little foal I used to be? Like I'm still made of glass?
My anger must have shown on my face as Cadences reaches forward to place a hoof on mine. "I know, Pure, I know it's frustrating, but we can't push, even if we want to. I've wanted so many times to just drag that filly from her tower to go to the park, or see a show, or even just get ice cream. Shining feels the same, but even when we do manage, she's always so... agitated. Fidgeting, nervous, distracted, and clearly unhappy. Even if you were to march up there and make her come eat with us, she wouldn't enjoy it."
"We just have to take our time with her," Shining adds. "It's hard, but she is getting better. In foalsteps, but she is."
"How much time?" I ask with a bit more bite than I meant. "When we're all grown up?" Both older ponies wince at that, and I realize that's probably a real fear they have for Twilight. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, realizing that there's nothing I can do right now to help Twilight. "I'm sorry. Twilight will be ready when she's ready, and forcing things might make it worse... I'm still going to keep trying to help her though."
"You are helping her," Shining says, coming to sit on the blanket himself to pat my shoulder. "Your letters make her smile whenever she remembers to read them." He chuckles. "Then, ah, she kind of has a little panic attack when she realizes she got the letter weeks ago, then she ends up writing a hundred different drafts for the response trying to make it perfect for you... I love Twily, but she stresses over some weird stuff sometimes."
"Well, I guess that makes me feel a little better," I respond with a tired sigh. "Not knowing that she stresses over writing me back though." I shake my head and look over at the untouched basket. "There better be cookies in there. I need something to calm my nerves."
Shining snorts while Cadence giggles. There are indeed cookies, and the pair are gracious enough to allow me an extra share. It's an attempt to raise my spirits, but the thought of Twilight sitting up in a tower, head buried in parchment is hard to cover with sugary treats. Still, I paste on a smile and talk with Cadence and Shining, the latter having gone back to looking out for us despite a guard really not being needed in the middle of Canterlot Castle.
It doesn't stop him from eating a sandwich that Cadence levitates over to him or drink from the bottle of water she insists upon. "It's hot out and I don't want you overheating in that armor."
"I'm fine. Guards are made of sterner stuff, you know?"
"Yeah? Are they stronger than the sun?"
"Well-"
"Are you stronger than the giant ball of life-giving flame in the sky, Shining?"
"... No."
"That's what I thought. Now drink the water."
"Heheh, you two act like my mom and dad."
My giggles mingle with their red-faced sputtering denials. Oh, I'll definitely be writing about this to Twilight later.
After half an hour the food has been eaten and I've finished telling the probably-couple the last of my friends' cutie mark stories, just wrapping up my brother's. Shining looks intrigued as he rubs his chin in thought. "Hm, your brother sounds like he has a lot of promise. Does he plan on joining the guard? He'd make a good platoon leader, or maybe even a general."
"Don't let him hear you say that," I say in a faux-serious tone. "It'd go straight to his head, and believe me, it's already pretty big." A smile breaks through my grave expression as I add, "But no, he's pretty set on going into politics so he can help Aunty."
"And me," Cadence chimes in dramatically. "I'm only just dipping my hooves into princess work, and it's exhausting. I'll more than welcome your brother if he's willing to lighten my future workload, too."
"Well, what about you?" Shining asks. "Your grandfather is a legend in the guard, and from what I've heard, you're no slouch in a fight. The armorer mentioned you spar with his son and that you've really been pushing the colt to train harder to catch up. Sounds like you'd make a good guard."
I feel rather awkward as I answer, "Heh, Grandpa says the same thing, but I don't think I'm a good fit for the job." I chuckle sardonically. "He even thinks I'll get some sort of fighting cutie mark."
"You might," Shining says encouragingly. "You're good at it, right?"
"I guess, just because I've had a lot of practice, though. It's not like I'm a prodigy or whatever. That's sort of what a cutie mark is. Your special talent is usually something that comes naturally to you, right?"
Cadence frowns. "Not really. I mean, I guess that's part of it, but it's also usually something you're passionate about. Ponies are good at their talent both because they have a knack for it, sure, but also because they're driven to practice that talent a lot. It's not like when you get your cutie mark, you suddenly just become a master of whatever it is."
"She's right. My cutie mark doesn't just suddenly make an expert in my field. I've trained hard and studied every day since I got it."
Both intrigued and eager for a change of topic from my special talent or lack thereof, I tilt my head to get a better look at Shining's mark. "Studying... how to use a shield? Or protecting others?"
He follows my gaze and chuckles. "Actually, my talent is defensive magic. Shields, barriers, wards, that sort of thing."
That captures my attention instantly. I might not be going to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, but that doesn't mean I'm still not as intrigued by magic as I was when I was just a tiny foal seeing it for the first time. As a matter of fact, I've been learning everything I can on the subject over the last couple of years, even going so far as to read Moondancer's own textbooks she brings home from school. After helping my best friend with a few reports, she often says I know as much of the theory as she does on the subject.
Clear flattery aside, I'm eager to learn more when the opportunity presents itself. "Really? Can you show me some?" I ask.
"Um, maybe?" he answers uncertainly, sharing a look with Cadence. "It won't hurt you, right?"
My eye twitches, but I answer calmly. "I already said I'm a lot better. Unless you're going to be casting a shield around the entire castle or something crazy, I'm sure I'll be fine. Now come and show me something cool!"
He appears uncertain for a few seconds longer, but Cadence gives him an encouraging look, and he eventually shrugs. "Alright, fine, something simple. How about I show you the shield that got me my cutie mark to begin with?" I nod vigorously, earning a chuckle. "Okay then, here it goes."
Breathing through his nose, Shining ignites his horn in a magenta glow which matches the circle that forms along the ground around him. Over a little more than a second, a sphere builds up around him from this base, smooth and transparent, tinging everything within a pinkish hue. "Aaand there! My first shield," Shining declares, his voice slightly muffled behind the magic. He looks rather proud as he explains, "I made this to protect Twilight when she was a little foal. The whole family was at the park enjoying a nice summer day when a kickball some colts were playing with came flying right towards Twily. I didn't even think about it and just snapped this shield up around her, protecting her and earning my cutie mark at the same time. I hadn't even been taught how, I just did it to save my little sis."
As he explains, I'm busy walking around his barrier, examining it. Squinting my eyes, I lean close and realize the shield is actually two layers, an inner rigid layer surrounding by a lightly pulsing sheen of magic. "I'm not surprised you didn't get taught this one," I comment. "This is a shapeless spell, isn't it? No proper matrix?"
Shining blinks, but nods. "Ah, yeah. How'd you know?"
Cadence giggles as she watches us. "She's quite the little scholar, remember? I bet she knows as much about magic as you or me."
"And Twilight?" Shining asks absently as he watches me circle his barrier.
"I think there are professors who don't know as much as her."
While the two banter, I'm busy looking over the spell. Grandpa Shield isn't actually great at barriers as his talent is more in subduing criminals. Protection via removing the threat, he would say. As for Shining's talent, I'm honestly impressed, and maybe just a bit envious. The aether protecting the rigid dome of magic beneath is incredibly controlled, the undulations of its surface kept so minimal as to almost look like part of the hard barrier itself. It's also thin, meaning that Shining is expelling very little extra mana to maintain his aether, which is something I've been practicing ever since I learned of the theory.
I thought I was pretty good at it, better even than my parents or brother, but here Shining is doing it effortlessly while maintaining a conversation with Cadence. I try to soothe my bruised ego by reminding myself that this is his special talent and he's probably practiced this particular spell for years. "This is a pretty good barrier," I pipe up. "How much can it take without breaking?"
Returning his attention to me, Shining polishes a hoof against his chest. "Well, I don't want to brag-"
"And yet it sounds like you're about to," quips Cadence, which Shining ignores as he continues.
"-But I've got a bit of running challenge with the other cadets to see if they can manage to break this shield, and none have managed yet."
I ponder this answer and try to glean just how strong that'd make the barrier. Tough, sure, but how much? Well, there's only one way to find out for sure, and that's by testing it myself. Spinning on the spot, I buck the barrier with my hindhooves, really putting my back into it and following through. It's like kicking a wall, and the shock it sends up my legs leave them tingling as I nearly stumble upon placing my hooves back on the grass.
Shining gives a surprised shout and tells me to be careful, but I'm too focused on turning back around and looking at my handy work. There's two small spiderweb cracks the sizes of my hooves now on the surface of the barrier, but I can see the aether sinking into the hardened layer, filling the cracks to rapidly fix the damage.
"That is strong, and self repairing, too. This is a pretty good shield for how simple it is. I can't imagine what you can manage with a proper spell matrix."
"It is strong," Shining confirms with a frown. "Which is why you shouldn't risk cracking a hoof kicking it like that, You could have gotten hurt."
I roll my eyes. "Grandpa Shield has me practicing my bucks on a big upright log. If I can kick that a hundred times a day, I think I can manage this. Besides, it's strong, but not unbreakable. I could probably break it if I kept on bucking faster than it repairs itself."
"Yeah, how about we don't try that," Cadence says nervously. "I wouldn't want to risk you spraining an ankle just to prove a point. Your family would be furious if I let you get hurt."
"Seriously, the other cadets stand to win twenty bits if they break through, so if they can't manage when they're older and motivated, I don't think you stand as much of chance as you think."
Ears perking at Shining's mention of bits, I ask," Really? There's money on this? So does that mean if I break your shield, you'll give me twenty bits?" The thought is certainly tantalizing. Having bits of my own to buy my own sweets, or maybe I can order us pizza during the next sleepover at Moondancer's.
"If it means you're going to keep trying to kick your way through, then no," Shining says. "I'm supposed to be protecting you two, not letting you hurt yourself."
I look back at the barrier, thinking deeply about everything I know about how magic and spells work. Eyes narrowing, I hum and ask, "What if I get through without bucking?"
"Others have already tried magic from beams to fireballs. I don't think you'll have much luck if that's what you're thinking."
I smirk as a plan starts to form. After all, I'm more than aware of all the ways a spell can be broken after all my training. Or more accurately, all of my failures during training. "We'll see about that. So how about it? If I manage it, you give me the bits?"
Shining looks to Cadence who shrugs, which he returns. "Alright, bet. Let's see what you can do, Pure."
"Great!" I chirp back, then look at the rosy obstacle between me and tasty junkfood. I don't have a lot of magic, but then, when it comes to shapeless magic, it's never too much that's the problem. Igniting my horn in a long-practiced process, the aether flares for only a second before shrinking and smoothing around my horn, already less than half that of Shining's own horn.
From there, I start to form my own structure, a small ball with a bit of aether around it, and try to gently press it to Shining's shield. A frown tugs at my lips as his own aether washes away the lighter pink around my sphere before I can replenish it, causing the sphere to crumble. Shining chuckles at my first attempt, but I ignore him.
Distance between the caster and the effect increases the lag between action and result, usually not enough to really matter, but with the delicate work I'm trying to perform, it's enough. I'll need to be able to adjust the mana quickly in response to Shining's own magic messing with mine. I step closer and lower my head so my horn is a few inches away, then try again.
Even armed with the results of my last attempt, the small sphere still crumbles, lasting only long enough for me to start the second step of my plan of pinching a hole through the middle of my construct to form a donut shape. I form a third sphere and crane even closer, the distance almost nonexistent now.
As soon as the sphere makes contact, I flare the aether to protect it, but that's quickly being leeched away. I won't have enough time to proceed at this rate, so in a split second decision, I lean in the last few centimeters, spearing the sphere between my horn tip and rigid layer of Shining's barrier.
His mana against my horn is unpleasant to say the least, but compared to when the doctors were probing my brain to keep my leylines open, it's nothing and I instead focus on the plan. I hear the colt talking and Cadence's questioning, slightly shocked tone, but I ignore them as I quickly start to expand the ring of magic impaled on my horn. Like throwing a pebble into a lake, the expanding circle of my magic, small as it is, slides flush over Shining's barrier, pushing aether away from the center in a ripple that leaves the solid layer of magic exposed to the open air.
Instantly, the hard shell starts to destabilize and crack, far more so than my kick managed. Still, the aether still residing and protecting the inside surface of the shield is slowing the process enough that my magic will give out long before it does. Splitting my focus a bit further from maintaining the impromptu dam I've made holding Shining's aether at bay, I push as much magic as I can manage into the very tip of my horn and press forward hard, taking a firm step and straining my neck muscles. My spellwork crumbles half a second later, but it doesn't matter as I pierce the bubble of Shining's magic, sending huge cracks all throughout its surface.
Like glass, shards break off and begin to fall, dissolving into mist before they hit the ground, leaving the colt behind to stare in shock, white face finally unhued by the glow of magic now gone. "I... How'd you do that?!"
"Heh... just a bit of magic... applied just the right way," I manage between panting breaths, righting myself on shaking legs as I had nearly fallen on my face when I pushed through the shield. The whole process ended up taking at least a third of my mana reserves from the feel of things, but the sudden exhaustion I feel is nothing compared to the exhilaration of actually, miraculously besting someone else in a contest of magic. I beam up at the young stallion and say, "So... when can I expect my twenty bits?"
Cadence gasps and I chuckle. "Oh come on, a bet's a bet. He owes me that money now, right?"
"Pure! Y-your flank!" Cadence responds strangely, getting me to look over at her to see her shocked expression, her eyes glued on my back half.
Shining gasps too as I finally turn to see just what is so fascinating about my rump, only to gasp myself and nearly fall over. There on my flank, a few residual sparks just now fading, is a brand new cutie mark. I can hardly believe my eyes as I gape at the monumental image.
It's a light, almost translucent pink, six-pointed star. Unlike my brother's compass, it's all one solid color, and looks almost stretched out. The prongs are thin and sharp, a bit wider than you'd get if you merely drew three intersecting lines. It's the most simple cutie mark I think I've ever seen, and yet, as I stare with slowly watering eyes, all I can think is how beautiful it is.
My cutie mark. Cadence suddenly rushing to my side to give me a hug is all that keeps me from collapsing onto the ground. She's excitedly congratulating me and Shining is doing the same, but the words hardly register. I got my cutie mark. I finally got it.
A grin slowly spreads across my face as happy tears run down my cheeks. I can't wait to tell my family.
