When Celestia realized her need for a successor, she took on her first apprentice, but that apprentice was not her current protege, Twilight Sparkle. This is the story of Roberta mi Amore, and how she became The Lady mi Amore Cadenza.
When Celestia realized the calamity and chaos that would come to Equestria and that she would need somepony to take her place, she began to look for an apprentice. Eventually, this led to her tutelage of Twilight Sparkle, but she was not Celestia's first apprentice. This is the story of Roberta mi Amore, and how she became The Lady mi Amore Cadenza, heir to Celestia, and the first sorceress to become an alicorn in over a thousand years.
In the same universe as Camaraderie is Sorcery, to be read between the first and second seasons (after Chapter 1:27.4).
Ponies trod slowly through the muck and desolation, some dragging carts behind them, others carrying only whatever possessions would fit in their saddlebags and on their backs. Spring was stretching on, and the fields should’ve been vibrant with new growth, food to feed the nearby villages and the hungry cities to which they belonged. Instead, the fields were muddy messes, having been crushed first by the Balte-Maeri army headed north, then again by them on their retreat, and again by the Fillidelfiyaan army pursuing them. A battle had been fought where the refuges currently were, making the land even more of a mess. Broken pikes and posts with ragged banners were still stuck in the ground, and the dead were heaped in piles, left to rot with only a light layer of soil thrown over them.
Crowned heads and historians would go on to call this conflict the Seventeenth Trade War, but for the peasants traveling across the desolated land, it was only one more nightmare they’d never asked for. They’d just wanted to live their lives, tend the land, provide for their families, but that had all been swept away because of squabbles between the rulers of the Three Sisters. This land had once been the domain of the House of Reykirk, but hearsay said that the Reykirks were all dead. Fillidelfiyaans administered the land now as conquered territory, and hearsay also said that Baron Hadrian of Trotston might be named the new lord of these lands. Even if the rumors weren’t true, some new noble would come to rule this land; some new noble always took over.
Many of the peasants had decided to take this chance to flee while rule was questionable. The land held nothing for them now anyway, not when their homes had been burned and fields torn up. Some still remembered Duchess Seaspray as a beloved ruler, even if they’d never seen her and probably never would, and they would stay in the Duchy of Balte-Maer, but others were going farther. They’d heard tales of the Dominions of Cant’r Laht, ruled by the immortal sorceress Celestia, and they’d heard things were better there. Maybe they were and maybe they weren’t, but it was worth the risk.
The sky was completely overcast, scattered droplets of rain falling occasionally as if the heavens wanted to draw out the rain as long as possible. It made it difficult to tell when night had fallen, but the darkening of the sky eventually reached a point where the refugees decided to make camp. They pulled their carts and wagons into protective huddles and pitched makeshift tents made from whatever scrap cloth they could find. They gathered around fires, clutching their foals close to them and trying to ignore the lights to the south from other villages burning, either torched by soldiers, deserters, or bandits. It really made no difference anymore.
“Pardon me, fellow travelers, but might I join you at your fire and have a bite to eat?” a stranger asked as he appeared at the edge of one of the circles.
The stranger was dressed in clothes of extraordinary colors, though they’d been subjected to some wear from his travels. Ruffs had come loose, his hose was faded and muddy, and the feather in his cap had been broken in one place, but he still cut a striking figure. Entirely undamaged was the lute upon his back, carefully wrapped to prevent harm.
“We’ve barely enough food as it is. Find somepony else to bother,” an old stallion grunted grumpily.
“Why, there must be something you can do for a wretched soul in the same situation as yourself,” the bard pled, “I won’t only take; I can give something in return as well.”
“What could you possibly give us?” a mare holding her twin foals close demanded, “Songs?”
“And stories,” the bard said with a brisk nod, “I am Lilian, troubadour extraordinaire, and I have many tales to tell. Have you ever heard the story of the Lady mi Amore Cadenza, heir to Celestia of Cant’r Laht?”
“No, should we have?” a young mare asked, intrigued and not entirely unimpressed by the stranger.
“Oh, it is quite a tale,” Lilian said as he trotted over and sat by the fire, noticing that nopony stopped him, “Abandonment, forgiveness, anger; it has it all. It is the story of a pony lifted from the depths to be seated at the right hoof of Celestia herself.”
“Okay, storyteller, let’s hear it,” the old stallion who’d tried to turn him away before grunted.
“But of course,” Lilian said as he took his lute out and strummed a few notes to set the mood, “My throat is a bit dry and there is much to tell. I would appreciate something to drink, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Somepony passed the minstrel a flask and he took a swig.
“Ah, much obliged,” he said, sitting the flask down next to him, “Now, this story begins, as many do, years ago in the midst of a storm …”
A great storm raged over the Equestry Valley, the tempest slamming against the White Mountains and drenching Cant’r Laht. The storm seemed the worst, however, over a minor noble’s estate at the base of the mountains to the north. That may, of course, have only been perceived because of the turmoil down below mirroring that of above. The Baroness mi Amore struggled in childbirth while the baron restlessly paced his chambers elsewhere in the estate.
Baron Ferdinand mi Amore was not a beloved lord. His fits of anger and outrageous demands had earned him the ire of the peasantry, and they dreaded what might be inflicted upon them if his wife bore him another daughter. The mi Amore title was passed down only through the male line. If the baron had no son to pass his title down to, then his line would end with him. He had three daughters, and his frustration and anger had been greater with each one. He never took it out on his children or his wife, but that meant that his subjects received a double portion of his wrath.
The thunder overhead blocked out the screams from the baroness’s chambers intermittently, and it came as a shock to those nearest enough to hear when the screams were silenced, replaced by a newborn foal’s cries. The servants in their chambers pretended not to be concerned, but they whispered among themselves about what this child would bring. The midwives looked at each other with terror, trying to decide what to do. Only one of them had been here at the birth of the baron’s last child, but they all dreaded the repercussions of what they’d witnessed.
Eventually, one of them worked up the courage to take action and snapped orders to the others before galloping out of the room, startling the guard standing outside the door. He was to report to the baron when the business was finished, but he had to know what to report. When he tried to open the door to the baroness’s chambers, however, he found it barred from the inside. Insistent, he banged on the door and called after the retreating midwife who had emerged. He would get in, it was only a matter of time, but the midwives would delay him as long as possible.
The mare who’d taken charge galloped through the hallways and out into the estate’s courtyard. She was tempted, as she passed the gates, to simply run through them and disappear into the storm, but she had a mission to fulfill. By the time she reached the steward’s residence, her blood-stained clothes were thoroughly soaked and mud-splattered. She banged upon the door until the stallion answered it, and she nearly fell in through the doorway when it suddenly opened.
“Yes, what is it?” the steward demanded, before seeing the state the midwife was in, “Come in out of the rain.”
“The baroness … she died in childbirth,” the midwife said breathlessly, and the steward’s face became ashen, “Only one o’ her foals survived.”
“And the foal …” the steward said with dread.
“A filly,” the midwife finished for him, “The other was a colt.”
“You were wise to come to me right away,” the steward said as he anxiously threw a cloak over his nightclothes, “I have to stop the baron before he makes a terrible mistake.”
The steward barreled out into the rain, splashing through the mud of the courtyard rather ungracefully. His domicile was connected to the rest of the estate, and he could have reached the baron’s dwelling without setting hoof in the rain. However, like the midwife who’d rushed to him, he realized that time was of the essence and the swiftest way was through the courtyard. He had served the Baron mi Amore faithfully for years, and knew his master better than anypony. His rage would be immeasurable, and somepony had to stop it before it brought down everything around their ears. He was risking his life here, but if he didn’t succeed, then it wasn’t likely he’d survive much longer anyway.
There were shouts and sounds of struggle when he reached the baroness’s chambers. The steward stepped through the open door to a sight of death and fear. Baroness Francesca mi Amore was lying dead on her bed, the small form of her son nearby, resting on one of her wings. The midwives were huddled in corner, protecting a crying babe from a guard that was trying to break them up.
“Prubecht!” the steward yelled, startling the guard as he heard his name, “What in the Seven Pits of the Abyss do you think you’re doing?”
“Th-th’ baron, ‘e ordered me t’-” the guard stammered.
“To kill a newborn foal?” the steward finished for him, and he looked ashamed, “Have you no decency? No fear of judgement? I don’t need to be able to read the Word of Faust to know that your soul would be forfeit, consigned to the deepest levels of the Abyss for such a heinous sin!”
Prubecht backed away, shocked at the thought of what he’d been about to do. He had quailed at the thought when the baron had demanded it, but there would be no arguing with his lord. If he’d tried to protest, he was sure that Ferdinand would have killed him then and there. Better, he’d thought, to finish the foal off quickly before anypony knew it’d been born than to face his master’s wrath, but he’d been wrong.
The danger momentarily abated, the midwives began to unclump, until their eyes suddenly grew wide and one inhaled abruptly. The steward turned to see the baron standing in the doorway, his eyes filled with fire as he stared at the blood-soaked bed. Slowly he turned and looked past his steward, at the quivering guard slumped against the wall and the group of midwives.
“Where is it?” he demanded, voice taut as a cord.
The newborn foal, no idea of the danger she was in, wailed and the baron’s eyes immediately fixed on her. He drew a knife from his belt and trotted forward with murderous intent. The steward tried to stand in his way, but he spread his wings and jumped into the air, using the high ceiling of the room to his advantage. The steward struggled to stop him, but managed to jump up and grab him, pulling him down and pinning him to the floor. Baron Ferdinand mi Amore struggled to throw his servant off, kicking him in the loins, but the steward endured the pain and fought to keep the baron pinned. The baron’s wings struck out, knocking over a stool, but he couldn’t build up enough force to throw the steward off. Spitefully, he spit out his knife, the sharpened blade leaving a cut in the steward’s foreleg and staining his nightclothes with blood.
“Stop, my lord, stop!” the steward yelled repeatedly between heavy breaths, and at last the baron heard what he was saying.
“Let me up!” the baron demanded, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth, “That thing killed my wife and heir! It deserves to die!”
“No, my lord, you mustn’t kill her! Think!” the steward yelled, not sure how much longer he could keep the baron down, “Word will get out, and once the peasants learn you’re an infanticide, they’ll storm the estate, burn it down, and impale or lynch you! Even if they don’t succeed, the word will reach Celestia somehow, and you have no defense against her!”
The baron was no longer struggling, but there was still anger in his eyes, and he was breathing heavily through gritted teeth. His steward had seen him enraged many times, but never as terribly as this. He was willing to kill a foal only minutes into this world, and it didn’t look like he was entirely convinced that the consequences weren’t worth it. As his temper began to come down, however, that raw rage transformed into a resigned resentment. The steward had gotten through to him. He wouldn’t kill the foal, but he would never forgive her for stealing his wife and son away from him in the same night. The steward wondered how the child’s life would be, and if he’d really done her a favor by saving it.
“Come on, Stjepan! Hurry!” the pegasus filly yelled, half galloping, half fluttering up the hill, “We have to get there before it’s gone!”
“It’s a rock,” the colt several years her senior said as he trotted up the hill, his wings folded at his sides, “It’s not gonna fly away.”
“It could!” the pink filly protested, “That’s what I saw!”
“Sure, Roberta,” Stjepan sighed, picking up his pace so that she wouldn’t get far enough ahead for him to lose her.
Roberta mi Amore was the youngest daughter of the local baron, but she was not welcome in the lord’s estate. It was well known that the baron despised his youngest daughter, who’d committed no offense other than surviving the birth that had taken the life of the baron’s wife and only son. He’d begrudgingly kept her around the estate for the first few years of her life but had eventually seized upon a minor transgression as an excuse to expel her from the manor.
No doubt he’d expected her to starve to death or succumb to the elements, but after the initial fear of retribution was past, the nearby ponies began to take care of the rejected filly. The village outside the baron’s estate, which was really little more than a cluster of buildings without even the benefit of a stockade, was Roberta’s home now. She spent most nights in the inn, which accommodated travelers passing between Ponieville and the Hill Kingdoms, and slept by the stove. During the days, the young lady helped out with tasks or played with peasant foals. Baron Ferdinand mi Amore seemed to have no complaint with this arrangement, and only gave her scornful looks when passing by these days.
Sometimes the baron’s guards harassed her when they recognized her, but that was uncommon. The subjects of the baron protected the filly, just as Stjepan was watching her now to make sure no harm came to her. Guards had disappeared on their rounds, and soon learned not to harass Roberta, at least not when anypony else was nearby. The steward, Donnach, was also sympathetic to the filly’s plight, and guards who’d mistreated her often found themselves assigned the dangerous duty of hunting down bandits. The ponies who cared for Roberta also occasionally found a purse of gold on their doorsteps after taking her in, and it was believed that it came from the steward, from his own salary no less, though nopony could confirm it.
As for Roberta, she didn’t seem to mind the change in her fortunes at all. She’d been young when she was thrown out of the estate, but she clearly recognized who she was and how her life should have been. She was due the same inheritance as her three elder sisters, who lived in relative luxury compared to the state she was in, but she didn’t seem to desire it. The filly’s contentment with her lot in life astounded those around her, and they doubted they’d be so forgiving in the same situation.
“Here it is! Here it is!” Roberta shouted excitedly as she found the rock she’d rushed to tell Stjepan about.
Stjepan was unimpressed; sitting on the grass was a simple stone roughly the size of an apple, shaped a bit like one too, but otherwise unremarkable.
“It doesn’t seem t’ be doin’ much, but it is just a rock,” Stjepan commented after a minute of staring at it.
“It is not,” Roberta insisted, “I know I saw it fly, we just have to watch and be patient.”
Stjepan sighed and lay down under the nearby tree, stretching his wings out on the cool grass. If Roberta wanted to stare at the rock all day, then he’d oblige her. There was work to be done at his father’s forge, more than ever with the increased number of travelers coming from the Hill Kingdoms. There were rumors that they might be annexed by the Kingdom of Manehattan any day now, the last free pegasus nation coming under the control of a kingdom whose crown prince despised everything non-earth pony, but rumors came and went, and Stjepan doubted their authenticity. It wouldn’t hurt to get away and relax some, and he even had an excuse in looking after Roberta.
The colt let himself daydream, his eyes fluttering open whenever Roberta accused him of not watching the stone, or when it was quiet for too long and he worried she’d left. On one occasion, he spotted movement, and rose from his position on the grass to investigate. Pegasi flew in ones and twos, peasants travelling in from the fields toward the baron’s estate. More earth ponies, headed in the same direction, followed the winding paths on the ground.
“Oi! What’s the hubbub!” Stjepan called out to one as she galloped past in shouting distance.
“See the banner over the manor!” was all she yelled back before continuing on, out of range now for conversation.
Stjepan was puzzled by the mare’s words and also by the actions of the peasantry. It wasn’t even midday yet, so why weren’t they still working the fields? He checked to make sure Roberta was still fixated on her rock before he flapped up into the air. They’d put some distance between themselves and the village, and he could just barely make out the banners flapping in the wind over the baron’s estate. One had always been there, the green and blue of the House mi Amore, but there was a new one fluttering with it. Details were impossible to see at this distance, but the colors gave it away. No other pony had a red and gold flag, and Stjepan would wager that that gold circle was actually a sun.
“Roberta, we’ve gotta return t’ the village!” Stjepan said as he returned to the ground.
“Not until I see the rock move again,” Roberta said, stubbornly staring at the immobile stone.
“But … Celestia is there!” Stjepan said with exasperation, “Don’t you want to see her?”
“Not until I prove that I saw this rock move,” Roberta said, scrunching up her face.
“Well, I …” Stjepan said baffled, “I’m gonna go see Celestia. I’ll come back later, okay?”
“Okay,” Roberta said in resignation, “You might miss the rock flying again, though.”
Yeah, not much chance of that. With a small bit of trepidation, the colt took off into the air. Roberta would be fine on her own; there were no beasts around, and all the baron’s guards would be around their lord while Celestia was here. She’d been just fine before she’d fetched him, after all, so she would probably stay safe. At least, that’s what Stjepan tried to convince himself of as he flew toward the baron’s estate.
Ponies were swarming around the gate when he arrived, trying to get a peek at Celestia through the guards barring their way. Some of the peasants were circling the estate, looking for gaps in the walls through which they could do the same. Pegasi hovered as close as they dared or were lying down on the roofs, peeking over the edge. Stjepan joined some of the colts and fillies his age atop the steward’s abode, where he had a good view of the proceedings.
Celestia was here indeed, standing regally while her mane and tale swayed in an ethereal breeze. There were other ponies in opulent attire around her, administrators and fellow mages, who looked with disdain at the muddy courtyard. Two other ponies stood out, one young, one old, both pegasi and both crowned. Hill Kings – they had to be. They had a gaggle of retainers around them as well, making the courtyard quite full when combined with the baron’s family and servants.
“My apologies, your grace,” Baron Ferdinand mi Amore said as he dipped his head before Celestia in a motion that was swiftly irking her the more times he did it, “If I’d known that I would be hosting you personally, I would have ensured the servants were more diligent about preparing for your visit.”
“Well, I must be there in person to accept the oaths of fealty from the Hill Kings,” Celestia said nonchalantly, the mischievous part of her reveling in the shock on the face of the baron and several other nearby ponies, “That is why I sent a letter ahead. You did tend to my request, did you not?”
“Of course, of course,” the baron replied nervously, “Here they are, just as requested.”
He stepped aside to reveal three ponies standing in a line, all of them unicorns. The one on the left was a hedge wizard from a nearby plot of land who often performed simple spells or sold enchanted charms in exchange for mead money. He looked very pale standing before Celestia and the mages of her court in his threadbare robes and coif. The wizard next to him pushed back his tall, pointed cap and the glasses he didn’t need shone in the light. He was an incredibly overvalued court mage of a neighboring lord and had been compelled to come here only through combination of threat and touting Celestia’s seal on her letter. The third individual was a woods witch who looked very uncomfortable standing before Celestia. She appeared to have been brought and had her mane washed and cut against her will for this audience, and she kept touching it with a hoof.
“This is it?” one of Celestia’s fellow sorceresses said with derision, “This is the best you can give us? I was born with more magic in my blood than these three combined.”
“Well, perhaps if I’d had more time,” Baron mi Amore said as he paled, “You said to bring all with suitable magical skill that I could find, but I did not have long to do so and wasn’t able to search very far. Perhaps if I had, then I’d have been able to acquire more talented specimens.”
“Let us not be so quick to judge, Margot,” Celestia told her companion, “They may surprise us with untapped potential. Come, let us see your skill with sorcery.”
The novice mages nervously began to perform one by one before the greatest living sorceress. They showed off what they knew, which was by and large either agricultural, medicinal, or just flash to impress uneducated peasants. As the demonstrations carried on, Celestia became more and more disillusioned. Margot had been right; she would not find what she was looking for here. Wearily, she watched as the unicorns performed simple magical tasks without much in the way of inspiration or a hint of potential to become greater, at least not as great as she needed. She’d set her plans into action months earlier after glimpsing the future, but her search hadn’t yet yielded any results, and it looked like this visit would be no exception.
“You see, your grace, none of these ponies are fit to be your apprentice,” Margot Bellinford whispered in Celestia’s ear, “Stick to the old houses of Cant’r Laht, where great power is bred.”
Celestia sighed; it was an argument she’d heard far too many times from the sorceress. Margot had ulterior motives for suggesting such a thing; her family was one of the proudest in Cant’r Laht, and her growing influence in the Lodge of Sorceresses had only increased her standing. She’d been pressing Celestia on this ever since she’d shared her plan to groom an apprentice with select mages. Margot had a niece who was said to by a prodigy at magic, and she no doubt had her in mind, but Celestia had seen her and wasn’t impressed. She wouldn’t do, not for what the great sorceress had planned.
“Hello, what’s that?” Celestia said, sitting up abruptly as she sensed a surge of magical power nearby.
The woods witch paused in the act of undoing a curse she herself had cast on a nearby cat in confusion and it keeled over and died before she realized that she hadn’t completed the counter-curse. A few of the mages with Celestia also sensed the blooming of magical energy but couldn’t pinpoint it as easily as the ancient sorceress could. This was something interesting, and an excuse for her to leave the manor immediately.
Without warning, Celestia spread her impressive wingspan and jumped into the air, quickly flying over the estate’s roofs, scattering pegasi who feared they’d been caught spying on the alicorn. The baron watched in shock before turning to look at Celestia’s companions, who seemed just as surprised by her sudden departure. The guards on the ground struggled to free themselves from the crowd of ponies around the gates, but they quickly succeeded as everypony turned to follow Celestia.
Stjepan joined the others and picked up the pace when he saw the direction that Celestia was headed. He’d only been able to hear snatches of the conversation in the courtyard and had no idea why Cant’r Laht’s Matron of Sorceress had suddenly taken off. She was definitely headed in the direction where he’d left Roberta, though, and he hoped she wasn’t in trouble. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.
Celestia landed outside of the village, having only flown a short distance to clear the buildings and the crowd, and the pegasi following her landed as well. It seemed impolite to fly over their sovereign while she trotted along the ground. She spoke to nopony as she carried on toward the hill where Roberta was, and the peasants kept a respectful distance, moving aside as the baron and Celestia’s companions tried to catch up.
Celestia slowed and the crowd pressed against itself as she reached the bottom of the hill and slowly approached to top, with its gnarled tree. Sitting in front of the tree, staring in the opposite direction, was Roberta, wings extended and shaking slightly in the breeze. Around her in a circle spun a dozen stones, their orbit shifting up and down in a rhythmic pattern. Roberta ceased her humming as somepony in the crowd stumbled into somepony else, and the stones dropped to the ground. Slowly, the filly turned around to face the crowd.
“Stjepan, did you see? I told you the rocks could fly!” she exclaimed, completely ignoring everypony else, including the nearby alicorn.
“Uh … uh-huh,” Stjepan replied, astounded as a hundred eyes turned on him.
“My child,” Celestia said matronly as she approached Roberta, “How did you learn this?”
“Learn … this?” Roberta asked in bewilderment, coking her head to the side, “What do you mean?”
“You were using sorcery to levitate the stones,” Celestia explained, and the filly’s eyes lit up, “Do you think that you could do so again?”
Roberta bit her lip and turned back to the fallen stones. At first, nothing happened, just as when Stjepan had waited around with her earlier, but now that she knew she had been the one controlling the stones’ motion, Roberta picked it up more quickly. Slowly, the stones ascended one by one into the air and began to spin as the filly hummed a tune. They dipped and dove in time with the melody, and she became more adventurous after they were in motion, forming a dance with them in complex patterns. Celestia closed her eyes and felt the magical energy flowing around Roberta, also in tune with her humming.
“Remarkable,” the sorceress said as Roberta returned the stones to the ground, stacking them into a pyramid, “What is your name, child?”
“I am Roberta mi Amore,” Roberta introduced herself, rising and doing a curtsey, before adding, “Your Grace.”
“Mi Amore?” Celestia said questioningly and turned toward where the baron was standing.
“My youngest daughter,” the baron said with embarrassment. This could quickly become very bad for him if Celestia decided to punish him for how he’d treated Roberta. If she didn’t find out, though, this could be very good for him. She was obviously interested in the child, and though he still despised her, he might be able to advance his status through her.
“And why was she not with you upon my arrival?” Celestia asked sternly.
“I fully intended to present her to you, of course, but she slipped away,” the baron lied and laughed uncomfortably, “Foals will be foals, you know.”
“Indeed,” Celestia said, not looking entirely convinced, but not pressing the issue, “Well, she is obviously very talented with magic and has the potential to become a truly great sorceress. I would like very much for her to become my apprentice.”
Celestia’s advisors were shocked, and Margot looked like she’d been mortally wounded. All their work to try to convince her to take a suitable noble unicorn apprentice from Cant’r Laht had been undone by a pegasus foal who looked more like a peasant than a lady. Baron Ferdinand mi Amore was beyond stunned, and the gears in his head were working furiously to calculate how he might take advantage of this turn of events and how he ought to react to keep from losing his head.
“Roberta, would you like to come to Cant’r Laht to be my apprentice?” Celestia turned and asked the foal directly, completely ignoring the crowd of nobles stunned speechless and peasants quickly spreading the news through their ranks.
“I would learn how to do more magic?” Roberta asked, looking at the pyramid of stones.
“Yes, that is right,” Celestia answered, “I will be your personal teacher, and I hope to impart all my knowledge to you.”
“Then yes, I would like that very much,” the filly said, beaming.
“And is this acceptable to you, your lordship?” Celestia said, turning again to face the baron, “I know it must be troubling to lose a beloved child, even to so grand a fate.”
“I will find a way to manage,” Ferdinand replied, not picking up on the sarcasm in Celestia’s words, “I can find comfort in knowing that you will be able to provide for her much better than I ever could.” And having the personal protégé of the Celestia as a daughter may prove useful one day, especially since she seems to harbor no grudge toward me.
“Then it is settled,” Celestia said with a smile, “Roberta mi Amore, congratulations. You are the first apprentice I have ever taken on. I have high hopes for your future.”
In the years following her discovery, Roberta mi Amore learned the sorcerous arts with the close guidance of Celestia. As the ancient sorceress had expected, she excelled at them, mastering spells with ease. To see the filly’s eyes light up as she learned new incantations reminded Celestia so much of a time long ago and the sister she had lost. Even after so long, she missed Luna, and the hurt returned as the time for their inevitable reunion drew closer. As much as she wanted to see her sister again, she also dreaded her return, but that was one of the reasons she’d decided to take on an apprentice.
She had seen a dangerous future in her visions, Equestria and the world teetering on the edge between survival and annihilation. Celestia was too weak to handle it on her own, and she had precious little time left besides. One day, Roberta would step into Celestia’s place as greatest living sorceress, and she had to prepare her for that role.
Celestia set out with the ambitious goal of teaching her all she had learned in her last sixteen centuries of life, starting with the basics. Diplomacy and sorcery came naturally to Roberta. She had been born into a noble line (even if it was a minor one with little prestige) and she hadn’t lost her noble bearing, which was only magnified by her time within the walls of Cant’r Laht Castle. Though her education had lapsed while she’d been expelled from her father’s manor (which she didn’t speak of to Celestia), she was soon as polished as her contemporaries in Cant’r Laht, perhaps even more so, for she had the sovereign of the Dominions of Cant’r Laht herself as a teacher.
As for sorcery, she saw the magical world differently from those around her, shaping spells with a rhythm and rhyme that impressed even Celestia. It was often said that magic was chaos, and that mages imposed order upon that chaos, but Roberta took a different approach. Instead of strictly binding magic, she allowed it to flow and grow naturally, embracing its motion and turning it to her advantage. The only pony who witnessed this, though, was Celestia.
Cant’r Laht was a city of sorceresses and sorcerers, and they tended to show off their magical ability in attempts to impress each other. Not Roberta, who refrained from using magic except during her studies and on her own within the castle. Not surprisingly, her humility led to rumors that she really had no magical skill and Celestia wasn’t really teaching her at all. They were spread throughout the city, especially in circles who disapproved of Celestia taking a pegasus from the greater dominions as an apprentice or wished they’d been chosen instead. They were never spoken in Celestia or Roberta’s presence, but they persisted nonetheless, and it was only a matter of time before something came of them.
It happened one winter’s day as Roberta was returning home from Cant’r Laht Cathedral. Though she seldom ventured outside the castle’s walls, and Cant’r Laht Castle had its own chapel, it was a holy day and she’d wished to join the masses of Cant’r Laht. It was also a feast day, and despite the fact that Celestia had not gone with her to the cathedral (and rarely ever attended the services in the castle’s chapel), she would be hosting a feast for the important ponies of Cant’r Laht which Roberta was expected to attend.
Cant’r Laht’s castle and cathedral were not very far away, and she’d nearly reached the entrance to the castle’s private gardens by the time she found her path blocked by three fellow sorceresses. On the left was a yellow-coated filly with a small case filled with cards at her side. In the center was grape-colored sorceress, holding an ornately gilded staff. On the right was a white-coated filly with a striped pink mane, wearing a light dress without a cloak and using her magic to protect herself from the chill in the air. They were all unicorns and all of a similar age to Roberta, teenagers with more boldness than sense. Roberta paused in her journey and waited; they wouldn’t have intercepted her without reason, and she would leave it to them to share that reason.
“So, you are Roberta mi Amore,” the one in the center spoke first, “You know, until you came to Cant’r Laht, neither I nor anypony else had heard of the House mi Amore.”
“Yes, it is a barony whose lands lie at the base of the White Mountains between the Hill Kingdoms and Onon’r Laht,” Roberta replied, not rising to the critique of her heritage.
She could guess who these ponies were from her lessons with Celestia. The one addressing her was Violet of the House Laxe-Surele, an important Cant’r Laht noble family with a fine list of mages in their line. Violet had also been one of the fillies that Celestia’s advisors had pushed her to take as an apprentice before she’d discovered Roberta, and the pegasus wondered if she had remained bitter after all these years, creating the cause of this interruption. The others were Selene of the House Bramagan and Fleur of the House de Lis, both budding sorceresses on the rise and common companions to Violet.
“Yes, so I discovered,” Violet replied with displeasure and switched to a different tactic, “How long have you been in Cant’r Laht, Roberta?”
“Six years now,” Roberta replied levelly, without pointing out that Violet should have remembered since she’d been present at the feast to welcome her, even if the two of them hadn’t met.
“How is it, in all that time, that nopony has ever seen you work magic, the very reason you were brought to Cant’r Laht in the first place?” Violet asked.
“I do much of my studies in private and rarely leave the castle grounds, so there would have been no opportunity for anypony besides Celestia and the castle servants to witness me practicing. Besides, I do not care to show off my sorcery when I’m out and about,” Roberta said, without adding unlike some ponies.
“Well, I don’t think any of us would mind a demonstration,” Violet said, and her companions nodded, “So, come on, show us what you can do, Roberta mi Amore, personal protégé to Celestia.”
“I would really rather not,” Roberta said, tired of this, and tried unsuccessfully to step past the trio of ponies.
“The rumors are right,” Selene said to Violet, “She can’t work magic at all.”
“Rumors are naught but empty words, lies ponies tell themselves because they wish them to be truth and spread to others as if doing so would confirm their desires,” Roberta said, and only Fleur recognized that she was quoting On Perception and Reality – The True World of a Sovereign, “I choose not to practice sorcery outside the castle grounds, and especially not on command.”
“Prove it,” Violet demanded, eyes narrowing, “Prove that you are truly a worthy student of Celestia, and not just a pet, an oddity, an excuse for her not to take on others as her apprentice. Roberta mi Amore, I challenge you to a magic duel today.”
“Today is a holy day and a feast day, and I am expected at Celestia’s table,” Roberta replied, which wasn’t an outright refusal.
“Fine,” Violet said, rolling her eyes, “Then I challenge you to a magic duel tomorrow. Be at the Commons tomorrow, at the Stage of Serpidus, at noon, or forfeit your honor.”
“I don’t want to fight you,” Roberta said, stiffening, “But since I can see that you will not let this matter be, then fine, I shall be there to meet your challenge.”
“Excellent,” Violet practically purred, “I will see you on the dueling ground, then. I hope I don’t have to remind you, but there is no need to get anypony else involved in our private matter, including Celestia.”
“Of course,” Roberta replied, still stiff as the trio of sorceresses finally moved aside to let her return to the castle.
***
Despite Violet’s warning to keep the duel from Celestia, Roberta was eventually forced to tell her. Over a millennium of politics had made the ancient sorceress incredibly perceptive, and the guests had barely left her feast when she approached Roberta. Violet may have feared that Celestia would intervene and put a stop to things, but she had no reason to be concerned. Celestia had nothing to say against the duel, and only proclaimed that she trusted Roberta to succeed (which was also taken by her student as a challenge to do so). Understandably, she couldn’t be present, but she would keep an eye on things from Cant’r Laht Castle. Roberta imagined she could feel the ancient sorceress’s eyes on her as she made her way to the duel.
Violet had chosen one of the traditional places in Cant’r Laht for mages to duel: The Stage of Serpidus. Cant’r Laht Common, the large park and marketplace in the city, was often seen as below the magically inclined (or at least the noble families considered it so), and they usually avoided it, but the southeast corner was the exception. Serpidus had been a sorcerer in Cant’r Laht from before the time of Celestia’s rulership. He was notorious for challenging ponies to duels for the opportunity to show off his own magical skills. He’d been in (and won) so many duels that to make things simpler, he’d ordered the construction of this stage. It was nothing fancy, just a rectangular patch of stone with a square of pillars in the center, but it served its purpose.
There were many mages standing upon the stage when Roberta arrived. Apparently, Violet and her friends had spread word of the duel even though they’d forbidden Roberta from doing so. It was a range of ponies too, surely not just Violet’s acquaintances, including budding sorceresses as well as members of the Lodge. Everypony wanted to see what Celestia’s apprentice could do and find out if the rumors about her were true.
Roberta’s opponent was waiting for her within the square of pillars, the dueling ground. Violet glanced up at the sky, filled with patchy clouds, as if to see if Roberta was late even though the bells of the cathedral hadn’t rung noon yet. The crowd closed behind Roberta as she entered the dueling ground, alone now with the pony who’d brought her here. They stared each other down as the church bells began to ring, followed shortly thereafter by other bells in the city, signaling midday.
“Sorceresses and sorcerers!” a sorcerer called out as the bells ceased their ringing, having been chosen before Roberta’s arrival to be the announcer, “Lady Violet Laxe-Surele has challenged Lady Roberta mi Amore! Ladies, have you chosen your seconds?”
“I have. Selene Bramagan shall be my second,” Violet proclaimed, and Selene stepped forward from the crowd behind her.
Fortunately, mages’ duels in Cant’r Laht had to follow a strict set of rules, including that they couldn’t be to the death. To tire out one’s opponent, immobilize them, or otherwise force them to yield was the goal, but it was still dangerous. That was where a second came in, to leap in and protect their duelist if it looked like they could not survive what was thrown against them, so the choice of a second was important. Roberta knew that her choice didn’t make any logical sense, but she still had the feeling that it was the move she ought to make.
“I choose Fleur de Lis to be my second,” Roberta announced, to the astonishment of many, Fleur not the least.
Surprised, she complied with the rules of the duel and left her position behind Violet to trot around to stand behind Roberta. Violet frowned and drew the staff from her side, knocking the end against the snow-covered stones dramatically. Roberta had no weapon to draw with flair, so she just nodded to let the announcer know that she was ready. The stallion stepped back out of the dueling grounds and tapped his hoof against a bell that had been replaced hundreds of times since the stage had been constructed.
The duel commenced, and Violet wasted no time in attacking. She spun her staff around in a complex pattern and mumbled magic words. A ball of lighting built up around the tip, crackling and sparking against the sorceress’s protective robes. As she brought the staff to a halt, the lightning discharged from the tip and streaked toward Roberta.
Roberta’s voice rang out in song, clear as crystal, rising and falling melodically. Snow swirled through the air and formed a flimsy barrier in front of her, a barrier that dispelled the blast of lightning. The sorceress continued to sing the tune and the snow continued to swirl around her, deflecting each attack that Violet sent her way. The spectating mages had never seen anything like this, a sorceress using music to cast magic. Violet tried a variety of attacks, but each one was confounded by Roberta’s shield, which grew more powerful with every verse. Her spells just seemed to glance off or be absorbed, the magical energy feeding the spell swirling in time with Roberta’s voice.
Her song abruptly changed, though the original tune was still there under the surface, maintaining the shield. Creatures leapt from the snow, and the spectators cried out in surprise as faux windigos galloped around Violet. She was forced to cease her attacks in order to defend herself. She planted her staff in the ground, and it projected a shield around her that kept the snowy windigos back. Both she and Roberta were now locked behind shields, but Violet wouldn’t give up so easily. She produced a fine powder from the pockets of her robes and blew bursts of it through the shield at her attackers, reducing them to slush, but more just took their place, rising from the snow all around her.
Roberta’s song changed again, and two melodies were now playing mysteriously, one of them high and brittle, not produced by a pony throat. Ice began to rise around Violet’s shield and she struck out at it with a hoof, only to nearly get her leg stuck in the advancing frost. Her shield was weakening, under attack by both snow creatures and ice, and she couldn’t continue to fight them both. With a start, she realized how Roberta was pulling off two songs at once. Part of her previous spell had been to weave the wind through the icicles hanging between the dueling ground’s pillars. Now the song that was producing the snow creatures was self-sustaining, but it relied on the icicles to remain intact.
Violet blew her magic powder at the icicles, using a spell to make the bursts fly straight and true before scattering just before impact. The icicles around the square were quickly shattered enough that the snow creatures fell apart, but she hadn’t been as fast as she’d needed to be. While her focus was on the icicles, the frost creeping up her shield had also crept through the stone at her hooves and was now engulfing her staff. She cried out and tried to free the expensive implement, but the moment she touched the staff, the ice constricted and shattered it into several pieces. As the shield collapsed, the ice began to creep toward her more quickly.
“Yield! I yield!” Violet yelled. She was already beaten, and she would not suffer the additional humiliation of being immobilized by ice and then laid up in bed for a week recovering.
Roberta’s song changed, and Violet tensed up, but she saw no malicious intent in her fellow sorceress’s eyes as her snow shield dispersed. The ice around Violet melted away and flowed so that she would remain dry. As the water refroze on the ground, snow was sprinkled over it so that it would not be treacherous terrain. Violet looked up in surprise; at the end of the duel, Roberta had used the magic she hadn’t exhausted to tear down the prison she’d constructed and make it easier for her to leave the dueling ground.
“The victor is Lady Roberta mi Amore!” the announcer called out after somepony bumped him to remind him of his duty.
A hundred voices that had been hushed during the duel went up at once as they discussed what they’d seen with each other or congratulated Roberta on her victory. The older mages departed quietly; they’d seen what they’d come here to see. Several of the mages Roberta’s own age came up to her to personally congratulate her and ask about learning under the great Celestia. When they’d left, Fleur de Lis approached her on her own, having hung back nearby up until that point.
“Congratulations on your victory. Most impressive,” Fleur said, and she seemed sincere about it. It was a welcome surprise; she knew it had been a good idea to choose the sorceress as her second.
“I just did what I had to,” Roberta replied, “I have the feeling a duel at the Stage of Serpidus was not how Celestia planned for me to make my public debut as a sorceress.”
“Yeah, sorry about forcing you into that,” Fleur said sheepishly, “There will be no doubt about your abilities anymore, not after today. You’re quite the conjurer, Lady Cadence.”
“Lady Cadence?” Roberta asked in confusion.
“You know, because of the music,” Fleur said, and her smile faded, “I didn’t mean to offend. I thought it was endearing. If you don’t want me to call you it, then I won’t.”
“No, I rather like it,” Roberta said thoughtfully.
***
Year 984 of the 4th Age
“You must be Lady Roberta mi Amore Cadenza,” the filly said as she shook the sorceress’s hoof, “I have heard stories about you.”
It was good that Roberta had taken to Fleur’s suggested nickname, as soon almost everypony was referring to her by it. It was hard to say whether it had occurred naturally or if Fleur had spread it around, but Roberta suspected the latter. Not that Fleur ever did anything more than grin mischievously whenever she brought it up, but that was evidence enough. Of course, simply “Cadence” was not fancy or dramatic enough for a sorceress, so formally she’d had “Cadenza” tacked onto the end of her name to form a link between her true name and the name she commonly went by. Cadence was her preferred name now, and few ever called her Roberta anymore.
“Really? I can’t imagine what kinds,” Cadence said politely.
Anypony else in her position would probably have felt jealousy toward this newcomer, but despite how far she’d come, Cadence was the same filly who’d borne exile from her family estate without complaint. Celestia was quietly taking on this other pony as a second apprentice. Just as monarchs comforted themselves with the idea of “an heir and a spare,” it made sense for Celestia to train another pupil just in case something ever happened to Cadence. It was odd that she was doing it so soon, but that may have had something to do with the slowing of Cadence’s progress.
Since that duel two years earlier, she spent more time outside of the castle grounds than within. Fleur de Lis was the closest and oldest of her sorceress friends, but she had made plenty of others. Though she continued to study Celestia’s lessons, she also now spent a great deal of time helping her friends to learn, and it was causing her own progress to slow. Celestia wouldn’t deny her that, but she saw signs that suggested Cadence might not be the right one for her plans after all. It was very early, and the chances of that were still slim, but it wouldn’t hurt to take on a second apprentice just in case.
“You know how ponies talk,” Celestia’s other apprentice said cryptically, “You have a unique and powerful magic.”
“I owe all my training to Celestia,” Cadence said, “I’m sure, in time, there will be plenty of stories about you as well.”
It wasn’t jealousy, but there was still something resting in Cadence’s stomach as she talked to this pony. She couldn’t place a hoof on it, but it was like her insight to choose Fleur de Lis as her second in the duel and several other insights since. Some uneasiness surrounded this pony, as if warning Cadence to beware. She tried to suppress it, but she knew that wasn’t wise, and she also knew that it would persist unless she acted on it. She couldn’t very well accuse her of something she hadn’t done, could she? Cadence would just have to watch her and be careful.
“Well, I had better get to my studies,” the filly said as she stepped around Cadence, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Cadence.”
“And you as well, Sunset Shimmer,” Cadence said, the uneasiness remaining with her as the other sorceress trotted away.
It was a beautiful summer day in Cant’r Laht, likely one of the last of the season, and Cadence and her friends were taking advantage of it. Long had the palace gardens been off limits to all but the castle’s residents and servants, but Cadence had requested that the policy be changed. They still weren’t open to the vast majority of the city’s population, but talented mages were now allowed to enjoy them, and it proved a popular place to collaborate on spells. Cadence and her friends had met to do just that, but as always, the time became more of a social event than a serious research session.
“So, there we are, enjoying a drink, and he launches into a lecture on the history and process of winemaking,” Rocinté, a unicorn with a crystal hanging from her horn, relayed the details of her latest unfortunate meeting with her fiancé, “I tell you, I learned more about the vineyards of Neighpoli and the trade across the Shimmering Sea than I ever wished to know.”
“I don’t know why you don’t try to have the marriage called off,” Selene commented as she absentmindedly shuffled a deck of enchanted cards with her magic, “Look at the company you keep; you have far more of a say now than you did when the contract was signed years ago, and I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“He tries, and he can be sweet when he decides to stray from just talking about what he’s read,” Rocinté said, “Besides, he’ll be Duke Exciterrey one day, and I’ll be a duchess.”
“What about you, Cadence? Do you have your eye on anypony?” Selene asked, and the circle of sorceresses leaned in to hear her response.
“No, not especially,” Cadence admitted, and sipped her tea, “I’m far too busy meddling in all of your love lives to have one of my own.”
“I wouldn’t call it meddling,” Rocinté said, “If anything, you’ve made things better for all of us.”
“I’m sure you’ll have your pick of the herd,” Fleur commented, “After all, nopony would dare arrange a match for you, and nopony would turn down the apprentice of Celestia.”
“Celestia,” Cadence said, suddenly remembering, “Oh no, I’m late! I’ve got to go! See you girls later!”
Spreading her wings, Cadence took off into the air as her friends hastily said their goodbyes. Celestia had arranged to meet with her today and she’d completely forgotten while chatting with her friends. The cathedral’s bells chimed the half-hour and she knew that she was very late indeed. Cadence swooped in through an open window, startling a servant and nearly causing her to drop the basket of rushes on her back. She helped her to steady it and apologized before taking off again. It was impolite to fly within the castle, but she half-hovered, half-galloped her way to the sitting room adjacent to Celestia’s chambers. The page standing at the door allowed her to catch her breath before opening it to admit her.
Celestia was seated in the center of the room, a displeased look on her face. It wasn’t that she was particularly upset that Cadence was late, but she’d suffering too many disappointments lately to keep up a cheerful demeanor. The storm she’d foreseen was still coming, and neither of her apprentices were yet ready for the challenge. She was beginning to fear that they never would be.
Sunset Shimmer had only been under her tutelage for two years, but already she was beginning to show warning signs. Celestia had feared that the slowing of Cadence’s progress had been due to the increasing amount of time she was spending with others, and had kept Sunset close. However, this had backfired and caused the sorceress to become overly isolated at a critical point that could not be undone now. She was studying spells that were better left unlearned, at least until one had the maturity to understand when it was prudent to study them in a vacuum with no chance of application. Celestia knew that she needed to reign her student in but was unsure how to do so. However, her first apprentice came first.
Celestia’s suspicion that Cadence’s social life was the cause of her declining progress in her study of sorcery had proved unfounded. Surely it was a factor, but there was much more going on. Cadence was beginning to peak, reaching her limits as a sorceress, and far sooner than Celestia had hoped. She was still learning new spells, but they were not more powerful or complex than the ones she already knew. Celestia knew of only one way to overcome this limitation.
“I apologize for my late arrival,” Cadence said as she sat down across from the ancient sorceress, “I lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”
“You should not make oaths you are unable to keep,” Celestia sighed.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry,” Cadence said, looking down at the table.
“Cadence, I’m going to come right to the point of why I asked you here today,” Celestia said, “You are nearing your magical limits.”
“I see,” Cadence said thoughtfully, “I was beginning to wonder. What does that mean?”
“You are already more powerful than many of Cant’r Laht’s sorceresses, but I sense that you can still do more,” Celestia said, “You have come as far as you can as a pegasus, though.”
From her side, Celestia lifted a heavy and ancient tome. Its leather cover was stiff and cracked and the pages were only held together by the enchantments on them, those beginning to break down as well. Dust fell from the book as parts of it disintegrated when Celestia passed it to Cadence. A velvet bookmark was stuck in the tome, and Cadence flipped to the page it marked, careful to avoid damaging the spine as it creaked.
Across several pages were instructions for a complicated ritual. Multiple forms and schools of magic were employed to build a powerful enchantment that was applied to the caster. Warnings stood out in faded red ink, peppered throughout the text, urging extreme caution and preparation for anypony who would attempt this ritual. Cadence drew in a sharp breath as she reached the illustration at the end of the instructions. It was a pony with both wings and a horn.
“An alicorn … like you,” Cadence said in awe, and looked up at Celestia, “Do you truly think I’m ready for something like … like this?”
“With preparation, you will be,” Celestia said, “This is the only way for you to progress further as a sorceress.”
“But … I haven’t even slowed my aging yet. Isn’t that a prerequisite for alicornification?” Cadence asked.
“Just because I and those before me did so doesn’t make it necessary,” Celestia replied. She had seen it herself with Luna, but the time hadn’t come to share that with Cadence yet.
“I don’t know. It seems risky, and I don’t know if I really want to become an alicorn at all,” Cadence said pensively, “Is it really necessary?”
“Cadence,” Celestia said, and waited until her student met her eyes, “Despite what may be believed, alicorns are far from immortal. I won’t be around forever, and I need somepony to take my place when I’m gone. When I first met you, I knew that you had the potential to be a great sorceress, one of the greatest of all time. I need you to be ready to take up my position when I die, and you won’t be ready to do so unless you’re an alicorn.”
“I’ll think about it,” Cadence said, but she didn’t return the tome to Celestia.
***
Cadence sat in her chambers, thinking about what Celestia had said. It was easy for Celestia to see the step to alicornhood as an easy one, but she had already taken it. An alicorn, though superficially not all that different from other ponies, still seemed to be something else entirely. Maybe it was the similarity to the six-winged depictions of Faust or the four-winged depictions of her Holy Chargers that made the difference seem so vast, or maybe it was because of how rare and monumental alicorns had been. Celestia herself was a living relic, the greatest living sorceress, and centuries old.
Cadence had the feeling that she should’ve been excited to become an alicorn rather than hesitant. After all, becoming an alicorn was the greatest thing that mages could shoot for, and they had been doing so ever since they’d realized it was possible. Still, only three in recorded history had ever succeeded. Those who’d failed had just remained as they were if they were lucky, but there were plenty who’d become horribly maimed by the attempt, and the warnings around the ritual instructions confirmed that those tales were more than just superstition.
Becoming an alicorn had great benefits. For one, the ceiling on your magical potential was shattered. Sorceresses, no matter how powerful they became, would always be limited by how much magical energy a body could safely hold before spontaneously combusting. Alicorns had no such limit, or at least not one that anypony had ever reached. Alicorns also had greatly extended lifespans, more even than what age-slowing spells could pull off. To most ponies, there was also the benefit of gaining wings, but Cadence already had those, and she had no need for a horn. What even is the purpose on a bone jutting from one’s head?
She had to think about this. The metamorphosis was not one to be undertaken lightly. The young sorceress paged through the tome her ancient mentor had given her. Celestia. She expected Cadence to go through with this, and she didn’t know if she could bear to disappoint her teacher. Hesitance warred with aspiration, struggling to overwhelm her as she'd never experienced before.
It was getting hot in her chambers, the summer going out with one final bang before the autumnal equinox came soon. Cadence rose from her bed and trotted over to the window to open it a bit wider. She could just as easily have done so with her magic, but she didn’t mind a little physical action now and then, and it gave her an excuse to step away from the illustrations of alicorns for a bit.
She paused, unexpectedly, to gaze out the window, and couldn’t say what was holding her there. Without realizing it, her eyes were fixed on where some of the city guard were practicing swordplay. The castle grounds her chambers’ windows faced out on was largely devoid of trees and shrubbery, little more than a lawn, and it was often used by the city guard for drilling, so it wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. Something was telling her to stay and watch, though, something like the feeling she’d had about Fleur and Sunset Shimmer, but subtle and unfamiliar.
Two unicorn stallions in padded training armor struck at each other with dulled practice swords. The older and more skilled of the two was familiar to her, a trainer who thoroughly enjoyed trouncing his charges, but the younger was a stranger. His muzzle (the only part of his coat not covered in armor) was a snowy white, and a lock of his sapphire and cerulean mane spilled out from under his cap (his tail, cut short, was not visible under his armor).
The younger unicorn was skilled with a sword, but he was no match for a master with years of combat experience. He managed to barely deflect the blows intended to humble him and was still forced back. As his sword was knocked away and the other pony swung around at his shoulder, he conjured up a small shield in front of him to deflect the blow. Instantly, the more experienced guard fired a beam of light from his horn that struck the shield and exploded.
The trainee was thrown backwards, head over hooves, and landed in the foliage outside of Cadence’s window. She leaned out to look down on him and make sure he was all right. With a bit of fumbling, he extricated himself from a rosebush and brushed himself off. He paused as he felt somepony’s eyes on him and looked up slowly. His eyes met Cadence’s for a second before he realized who he was looking at.
“A-apologies for disturbing you, my lady,” he said awkwardly as he bowed, then took the time to crane his neck back up to look at her again.
“If you’re going to use magic to defend yourself, then you’d better be prepared to defend against other magic too!” his superior called from across the lawn.
“Yes, sir!” the young stallion replied as he straightened his cap and galloped back toward his instructor, glancing over his shoulder in a way he must of have thought was discreet but really just caused him to nearly trip from not looking where he was going.
Cadence felt a fluttering in her stomach and she didn’t know why. No, she did, but she didn’t want to admit it. With barely anything spoken between them, she was under his spell, a phrase that had been more commonly used where she’d grown up, since in Cant’r Laht it was a valid concern. It wasn’t that kind of bewitchment, though; it was the kind that Selene had asked her about. Did she have her eyes on anypony? Well, she did now. Maybe it was that goofy grin when he had looked back at her, that casual awkwardness he seemed to carry around as if he were accustomed to it. Cadence didn’t know, but she did know that she needed to know more. She needed to find out who this stallion was. Fortunately, as the personal protégé of Celestia, that was well within her powers.
***
The day had come. There was no turning back now. Cadence nervously paced the room, circling the runes she’d drawn on the floor and the careful arrangement of items humming with magical energy. She would be all alone for this; she had to be. The alicornification ritual was too dangerous to bystanders for anypony to be in the same room while it was going on, even Celestia. A guard was posted outside her chambers if she called for help, but there was really nothing they could do.
Even protected by the castle’s wall and door, they were still in danger. Thankfully it wasn’t that cute stallion who’d caught her eye. Focus, Cadence! No, maybe it would be best to unfocus for a bit, calm my nerves. His name was Shining Armor of the House Haltrotsun, a minor Cant’r Laht earlship. He had some skill with magic, but nothing outstanding, and had decided to hone his skills in physical combat instead. The other guards thought him a bit of a dork (not uncommon with two scholars for parents), but also praised his kindness, level head, and sense of duty. Earlessa Roberta Haltrotsun Cadenza didn’t have quite the same ring to it as her current name, but it did come with a title, though that mattered little to her. Well, my nerves about the ritual are calmed, but I’ve put a whole other bundle in a tizzy.
So she wouldn’t delay any longer, Cadence stepped into the center of the magic circle etched out on the floor that nearly filled the room. Weeks of preparation had gone into this, to prepare the ritual that would transform her into an alicorn. Though the tome Celestia had given her was very specific, it also left a lot of unknowns. Every sorceress was different, and the ritual had to be tailored to them perfectly to work. Standing in the center of the circle, she could feel the magical web she’d woven crackle around her, preparing to encircle her. But, when it did so, would it bring about her ascension or her mutilation?
Cadence began to sing, her voice ringing out and shaking the web of spellcraft. The flames of candles placed at key points on the circle danced back and forth, syncing up with the rhythm as the spells anchored to them began to pulse in time. Night had already fallen, but it seemed to grow darker still around her as her magic began to take visible form, the spells appearing as stars connected by glowing lines no thicker than a hair. Her voice rose and fell abruptly as one by one, she snipped the threads and they began to swirl around her. A light show soon engulfed her, a sea of magic whirling around and around, bathing her in a glow of pale blue identical to the centerpiece of her cutie-mark.
She nearly panicked when she realized her hooves were no longer on the floor, but contained her anxiety. Now was a dangerous time for her to let emotions go astray. No longer could she see her chambers, other than the lines on the floor, still glowing bright enough to see through the storm of magic. A storm it was indeed, a tempest of raw magical power, liable to strip her flesh from her bones or her mind from her skull if she didn’t control and direct it. Now was the most dangerous moment, when she had to let the magic penetrate her, engulf her, reshape her.
She squeezed her eyes closed out of instinct as the tempest rushed in on her, even though her flimsy eyelids were nothing against the torrent of sorcery. It was within her, and she felt herself bursting with energy as the magic filled her completely. Pain brought tears to her eyes as she forced herself to continue her song, to maintain the spell as long as she had to. The bones in her legs and neck stretched, increasing her height. Muscles were unmade and remade in bundles, stronger and tenser than before. For no discernible reason, several of her internal organs shifted or were liquified before being reconstituted. Her wings molted as they grew larger and new feathers swiftly came in, but at least she hadn’t had to grow completely new ones. That torture was reserved for the bone that pressed through the skin of her forehead. Beginning as a nub, it grew into a long lance with striations along the length. A thin layer of skin and downy hair clung to it, matching her coat in color. Magical reserves welled up within her and she felt a connection to sorcery even greater than she had before.
Her tears had evaporated by the time she opened her eyes and guided herself back down toward the floor with her newfound powers as the spell dispersed. Her new legs nearly collapsed under her, but she steadied herself. Spreading her wings, she tested their new size and resisted touching the horn on her head.
She needed to see herself, but the looking glass in the room had beem shattered by the ritual. She trotted into her bedchamber, but the looking glass there had been broken by the spell too, and scrolls lay tumbled all over the floor. She needed to see herself and galloped through her chambers to the door. The guard jumped in surprise as she rushed out and tried to salute before being knocked back by a beat of Cadence’s wings. Calling apologies behind her, she burst into another room of the castle, one for guests, and found the object of her search.
She had to tip the looking glass back to see herself, but there she was, a pegasus no longer. Her horn was longer and sharper than that of a typical unicorn and she’d have to remember that when walking through low doorways. Her wings had previously matched her coat, but now had a gradient, the feathers darkening toward the tips. Her striped mane was more or less the same, if a little longer than before, and it wasn’t doing that wavy thing that Celestia’s did, but maybe in time. All in all, Cadence was pleased with the result. She was now only the second living alicorn, and she had much to ask of the first.
Cadence absentmindedly touched the tiara resting on her head. Her hoof also brushed against the horn that she was slowly becoming more accustomed to. After making sure that her alicornification had come without any unwelcome side effects, Celestia had officially named Cadence as her heir. Technically, Matron of Sorceresses in Cant’r Laht was an elected position, but the Lodge of Sorceresses would go along with it if Celestia told them to; besides, Celestia herself had originally been elected under duress. There was also the small collection of other titles she had picked up over the years that would be made hereditary in one way or another if they weren’t already.
Rumors abounded as to why Celestia had chosen to proclaim an heir, just as they had when she’d chosen to take on an apprentice. Was the ancient sorceress, the constant around which Equestria had turned for centuries, dying? Or, was she just trying to confuse her political adversaries by doing something unexpected? Or, was she testing the prominent nobles of Cant’r Laht to see if they’d pounce at this perceived weakness, only to trap them? She’d been known to do both in the past, but that didn’t stop ponies from considering the alternative.
Cadence was sure that ponies within the great hall were speaking on these things and would have been so even without her newly sharpened hearing. No wonder Celestia always seems to know everything; she can hear everything that’s going on at the banquets she hosts. It is a bit distracting, though. Cadence was still learning how to deal with these new perceptions, but that wasn’t the only thing distracting her from the banquet being held in her honor.
Her thoughts were for her family, the one she’d left behind twelve years earlier at the base of the White Mountains. They would pop into her mind from time to time, and she’d wonder what had become of them, but the queries to the Cant’r Laht intelligence service invariably brought the same reply. “Nothing has changed on the mi Amore lands.” Baron Ferdinand mi Amore still ruled alone, still demanded too much from his tenants, still would fly into rages over his lack of an heir. Her sisters still lived on the estate, unmarried, for the baron would not dare let somepony from another noble house gain a claim on his title and lands. This time Cadence felt different though, drawn to take action. She waited until Celestia had finished her conversation with a prominent sorceress before tapping the table next to her to get her attention.
“Yes, my apprentice and heir, what is it?” Celestia asked merrily, reveling in her student’s achievement, but her smile faded as she saw the serious look on Cadence’s face.
“Celestia, I want to visit my family,” Cadence announced with conviction, “You have been incredibly gracious in taking me in, but I feel that I must see my father and sisters again.”
“Oh … Oh, I see,” Celestia replied, “Well, if that is your wish, I see no reason not to go through with it. Not that I have any reason to impede you from moving freely. I hope you know that you could have visited them at any point in the past if you desired.”
“Yes, of course,” Cadence said, “I just feel that now is the time I must return.”
“Ah, yes, I understand,” Celestia said, “I’ll arrange for an escort to go with you.”
“An escort?”
“Yes, I know you are perfectly capable of protecting yourself, but as my official heir now, you’ll have to put up with added protection, even if it’s unnecessary,” Celestia explained.
“I see,” Cadence replied, and a thought came to her, “Can I choose my own escort?”
***
“I’m sure she’d really like to meet you, that is, if it’s not too much to ask,” Shining Armor said, flustered, “Ever since the summer solstice ceremony, all Twily-Twilight has done is study books on sorcery.”
“Well, maybe I’ll have to give her some pointers then some time,” Cadence replied, not joking in the slightest. She had a reputation for helping ponies out with magic, so it wouldn’t seem suspicious at all to be spending more time near Shining Armor.
“R-really?” Shining said excitedly, “That is, uh, you are very gracious, my lady.”
“Another thing, you don’t have to address me so formally,” Cadence said, “In fact, you’re the son of an earl, so I think that technically you outrank me.”
“Maybe that was true before you were named Celestia’s heir, but even so, I couldn’t,” Shining Armor protested, “Not while I’m serving as your guard at least, my lady.”
“Fine,” Cadence sighed. Maybe in time.
Celestia had allowed her apprentice to choose who would escort her to the mi Amore estate, and she’d requested that Shining Armor serve in that capacity. The three-day journey was the perfect opportunity to hear about him straight from the horse’s own mouth, as the expression went. Celestia only smiled knowingly at her choice and decision to take the long way to her foalhood home. Cadence was able to use portals just as her mentor (though not quite as effortlessly), which would have been much quicker, but she’d chosen to go on hoof to have more time to speak to Shining Armor and more time to think about what awaited her.
The two weren’t all on their own; Celestia’s page, Raven, was also accompanying them. Her official role was to collect updated census information from the baron’s steward and take down any correspondence Cadence wished to make, but really she was to be Celestia’s eyes and ears and report back to her. Also, though nopony had told her to do so and she was not much older than the others in the party, she was acting as a chaperone. Not that anything would happen between the duty-minded Shining Armor and Cadence, who (unlike many in Cant’r Laht) still considered chastity a virtue, but she was vigilant nonetheless. Celestia wouldn’t have cared; Cadence was old enough to make her own choices and powerful enough that nopony would question them, but Raven (like Cadence herself) was of a more traditional bend.
The estate came into sight in the distance, just as Cadence remembered it. The roof tiles had faded with age and some of the walls had been replaced, but otherwise the estate was unchanged. The small cluster of buildings near it was likewise unchanged, apart from the inn Cadence had spent much of her foalhood in, which was now larger to accommodate more ponies fleeing the Kingdom of Manehattan and King Hadish’s rule. As they neared the estate, an earth pony rushed out to meet them. Shining Armor loosened his sword in its scabbard, unsure of what to expect.
“Roberta, my lady, so it’s true!” he exclaimed as he reached the trio and did a rapid bow before Cadence, “Look at you! An alicorn! I could hardly believe the news when I heard it!”
“Yes, Donnach, it’s true,” said Cadence as the steward stood amazed, looking like he wanted to touch her to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming.
The stallion looked like he’d aged thirty years since she’d last seen him. Dealing with Baron Ferdinand mi Amore every day would do that to a pony, but at least he hadn’t been executed. She hadn’t fully realized it at the time, but Donnach had been looking out for her behind the scenes from her birth up until Celestia had come to take her away. She owed this pony a huge debt of gratitude, but before she could express it, she needed to meet with another pony. Cadence needed to meet with her father, who’d wished for her death ever since her birth, who’d expelled her from home and denied her her birthright.
“Donnach, is the baron expecting me?” Cadence asked innocently, and the steward’s face fell.
“Oh, yes, he is in the dining hall,” Donnach said nervously, exhibiting a twitch he’d developed from working under such a foul noble, “We had best not keep him waiting.”
“Master Donnach,” Raven said, causing the steward to cease in his turn, “I’m sure Lady Cadence can find her way to the dining hall on her own. The two of us have matters to discuss with you.”
“Yes, of course,” Donnach said hesitantly, looking both relieved that he wouldn’t have to be in the baron’s presence and worried at what his lord would say later about him not being there, “If-if you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to do Lady Rober-er, Cadence any slight by not escorting her.”
“I’ll be fine, Donnach,” Cadence replied with a comforting smile, letting her impressive wingspan spread for effect, “It’s just my father I’m facing.”
Donnach gulped nervously at that, but let Cadence leave.
***
The dining hall was so much smaller than it had seemed in Cadence’s dim memories, especially when she was used to the great hall of Cant’r Laht Castle. The last time she’d been here was in the presence of Celestia during her trip to the Hill Kingdoms, and before that as a very young foal before she was thrown out of the estate. Baron Ferdinand mi Amore sat in his usual spot at the head of the table, Cadence’s elder sisters down one side. She sat across from them, nearer to her father than she’d ever been.
The servants that brought their food, took away their platters, and stood by waiting for orders all looked at Cadence with great curiosity. Not only was she the most hated daughter of their master and had returned, but she was also an alicorn. She had gotten the same curious stares from the ponies in the village outside the estate. Those that had been here a long time recognized her, but even those who didn’t marveled at the great sorceress. Stjepan paused in hammering away at his father’s forge (his own now) to gawk at her, no doubt wondering if she was the same filly who’d called him out by name when a crowd including Celestia had met her on that hill.
“We, of course, thought to come see you in Cant’r Laht when we heard of your ‘ascension,’” the baron said, bringing Cadence back to the present, “I could not leave, though, with so much work to be done here and nopony capable that I could leave the estate in the hooves of.”
“I see,” Cadence said, though she knew it was a lie.
Her father had no great works to attend to here other than squeezing every last bit of grain from the peasants that worked his fields. His intentions to visit her in Cant’r Laht were likewise a lie. Cadence was no fool and had realized even as a foal that she would receive no love from her father or sisters. To them, she was a murderer of their kin, even if she was one herself. Her family members acted decently toward her now, but she could easily sense the insincerity. They still hated her, they were just too afraid of her magic to express it.
“You must have an important position in Celestia’s government now,” one of her sisters said, remarkably keeping the disdain out her voice.
“Actually, she has named me her heir,” Cadence replied, and another of her sisters nearly choked on the wine she was drinking.
“How … monumental,” the baron said, and Cadence could almost see the wheels turning in his head, trying to grind out some advantage he could gain from the situation, “Have you assembled your own court?”
There it was. He no doubt had some excuse as to why now it would be acceptable for him to leave the estate in somepony else’s hooves. As part of Cadence’s court, the baron could move to Cant’r Laht, where he’d be close to the important ponies of the realm. He might even hope to change the mi Amore succession laws or be promoted to a higher station. All the while he would continue to hate Cadence for stealing his wife and heir from him, and she sensed that nothing would change that, not even all the benefits he’d gain from being by her side.
“I see,” Cadence said dourly as she stood, “Nothing has changed. You are all just the same. I had hoped that things might be different now, but you have clung to your hatred for so long that it has become ingrained. I had no say in whether my birth would take the life of somepony dear to you, but you have blamed me since then nonetheless. I came here seeking forgiveness, but I see that none is to be had, not from you.”
Cadence’s sisters shuddered, and her father stared at her with cold, piercing eyes as she made her speech. She realized that she had been projecting magic unconsciously and drew it back into herself. Her purpose her was not to punish or scare those who’d wronged her.
“You may hate me for the rest of my days, or the rest of your days, but there is nothing I can do about that,” Cadence continued, “What I can do is offer forgiveness of my own. I do not hate you, though I have ample reason to; it is not in my nature, it seems. I forgive you for all the trouble you put me through, all the abuse both before and after you expelled me from this manor in disgrace. But, to draw this matter to a close, I must also cut ties and leave you behind. No more will I acknowledge any relationship to you, just as you wished for all along. Goodbye.”
Cadence turned to leave but was stopped by the subdued voice of her father.
“All these years, and now you think you can choose to cut ties with me? Now that you have power and influence?” the baron said, anger gradually boiling to the surface, “Why, you little-”
He picked up a knife from the table and rushed toward Cadence. She turned and fixed him with a disappointed gaze, and the baron suddenly found himself unable to move. The blade of the knife began to glow and melted away, leaving only the hilt in his mouth. Cadence waited until the molten metal on the floor had cooled before releasing her father, who staggered over it and came to a halt in shock.
“Goodbye,” she said again, sadly, and this time nopony tried to stop her as she departed the dining hall.
***
“You’re absolutely certain that all this is true?” Celestia asked, pacing angrily.
“The steward told me himself. He was there when the baron tried to kill her at birth and stopped him many times throughout the years, but he couldn’t be everywhere,” Raven reported.
“The villagers said the same thing,” Shining Armor confirmed, “After she was thrown out of the estate, they took care of her and protected her from the baron and his guards.”
When Cadence had gone to speak to her family alone, Raven had gone with Donnach to speak in private and sent Shining Armor into the village to question the ponies there. Raven’s questions about Cadence’s foalhood had brought answers she hadn’t expected from the steward, and Shining Armor had had a similar experience. Now that Cadence was an alicorn and the heir to Celestia, they felt they could speak to Celestia’s representatives without fear of reprisal from the baron and hoped that Celestia or Cadence would do something.
“Cadence was physically abused for years, nearly starved, and she never said anything about it to me,” Celestia said as she sat in her throne, still fuming, “Why?”
“Cadence does not seem to blame her family for their treatment of her,” Raven said, “She understood their anger and their blame of her for the loss of a wife and heir for her father and a mother for her siblings.”
“It isn’t right,” Celestia said, gritting her teeth. Fortunately, there was little here for her to break with her errant magic, but Shining Armor looked incredibly intimidated nonetheless. “It isn’t right,” Celestia repeated to herself, her brow furrowing into an even deeper frown.
***
Donnach took a deep breath of fresh air as he trotted through his orchard. Trees stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions except for the one in which he’d come. There stood a cottage for his family, with homes adjoining it for the servants that tended to them and the fields. This was his dream, a far cry from reality. He had a few trees near Baron mi Amore’s estate on a small patch of ground that had been given to him for that purpose. In this world, he was master of this orchard and Baron mi Amore did not exist. He had the time to trot through the trees and enjoy their scent, enjoy the sight of the fruit ripening, without worrying about saving another pony’s servants from their master.
A figure appeared through the trees and Donnach altered his course, leisurely approaching it. He had no need to hurry and no need to worry here. That sense of contentment began to slip away as the figure grew closer, though, and there was an itch at the back of his mind. Before he knew it, the alicorn was standing before him, her coat seeming to glow slightly.
“Celestia? What are you doing here? This makes no sense,” Donnach said.
“This is a dream of yours, and I have entered it to speak to you,” Celestia spoke.
Donnach’s eyes grew wide as saucers as the reality sank in. Celestia was in his dream, the real Celestia!
“My profoundest apologies, Your Grace!” Donnach yelled as he kowtowed, completely prostrating himself on the ground, “I had no idea it was really you, or I never would have been so informal! Forgive me!”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Celestia said, and Donnach felt a slight tingling as Celestia raised him back to his hooves with her magic, “Your dream is most pleasant, better than others I have stridden into.”
“You are very kind to say so, Your Grace,” Donnach said nervously, locking his legs so he wouldn’t inadvertently bow again but still not making direct eye contact with his sovereign.
“I have entered your dreams because I have a message for you, Donnach, son of Haddoch,” Celestia said with great weight, “I have learned of the evil of Baron Ferdinand mi Amore toward his daughter, my apprentice. I have also learned of the kindness you and others have shown her. For that reason, I am giving you this warning. My judgement will fall on the mi Amores tonight. When you awake, take your family and all servants within the estate who, like you, protected and cared for Cadence and leave within the hour. Do not wake the baron, his daughters, or those who followed his example and were cruel to Cadence. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Grace!” Donnach said, terrified.
He ventured a look at Celestia and saw written on her face all the terror she would bring upon those who’d mistreated her apprentice. The anger emanating from her was palpable, even in her dream form. Flames seemed to burn in her eyes, dancing with malicious intent.
***
A storm was raging over the mi Amore estate, just like the night that Cadence had been born. It made the steward’s task easy as he awoke only those who had shared in caring for and protecting the young Roberta both before and after her expulsion from the manor. They were able to leave undetected from the estate, leaving behind most of their possessions and plenty of sleeping ponies. They were soaked before they even reached the village, but Donnach’s insistence that they keep moving and the terror written on his face kept them in motion even if he wouldn’t tell them why they were fleeing. He considered going into the village and rousing those who’d also cared for Cadence, but Celestia had specifically said to wake only those in the estate. If she knew of their compassion, then surely Celestia would spare them too, but that didn’t mean that it was safe to stop in the village, and he pressed the group of ponies with him to continue on.
They were cresting a hill a little way from the village when the steward stopped to look behind them. Everything seemed unchanged, and he wondered if the dream Celestia had been just a figment of his imagination after all. Then, a great burst of fire consumed one of the estate’s buildings, followed by more. Fires burst out again and again until the entire estate was a gigantic torch. The flames grew far higher and faster than they should’ve been able to in the downpour, and Donnach thought he could feel the heat even from where he was standing, though that was probably just his imagination.
Screams at times carried through the night, screams of ponies burning alive, but they were mostly drowned out by the storm. Donnach thought he saw a figure escape the fire only to have a tongue of flame reach out and pull him back in, but that was also probably his imagination. Many of the other servants had taken off by now, fleeing over the hills to get as far from the unnatural fire as possible. As his wife called for him to come too, he turned away from the destruction, but thought he saw a figure standing on another nearby hill as lightning flashed out.
None of what Donnach had seen was imagined. Celestia was standing on a nearby hill, directing her spellfire to reduce the mi Amore estate into nothing but ash and cinder. The ponies there deserved no better fate than this. She hadn’t used magic like this in centuries, and it was taking its toll. Blood streamed from both her nostrils and the corners of her eyes, staining her pristine white coat faster than the torrential rain could wash it clean, but it was worth it. When word of what had befallen Ferdinand mi Amore spread, it might just convince others across Equestria to hold back, to not mistreat their children as he had. Mostly, though, it satisfied Celestia’s legendary anger, and if any of the legends about that came from this spoke of her wrath, she hoped it would speak of a righteous wrath, even if it wasn’t entirely true. These ponies had harmed her apprentice, and now they never would again.
***
“Are you sure about this?” Celestia asked Cadence as her apprentice dipped her quill into ink before continuing to write.
“Yes, I am the last living mi Amore, and I wish to make it forever so,” Cadence said, “No longer shall I be Roberta mi Amore Cadenza, but mi Amore Cadenza alone. Cadenza shall be my house, a new house not associated with that of my father.”
“You would be giving up the title of baroness as well with this,” Celestia reminded her, “Are you certain that this is what you want to do? You might be confused, your feelings in disarray after the death of your family.”
Cadence paused and set down the quill, carefully wiping off the excess ink.
“I suppose I feel some loss, but no more,” Cadence said thoughtfully, “I walked away from them; my name is all that connects me to them now. I will regret their deaths, I think, but if you think me irrational or angry about their deaths, I am not.”
Cadence turned to face Celestia as she picked up the quill and resumed writing the document that would end House mi Amore. She knows. She knows I was the one who destroyed the mi Amores, and she doesn’t care. No, she cares, but she won’t confront me over it. She doesn’t blame me; she’s already forgiven me. And Celestia knew that Cadence would never be her successor, would never take her place. She is too caring, too understanding, too quick to forgive. She lacks the edge that will be necessary to unite Equestria one day, the drive to live to that day.
Neither of Celestia’s apprentices would be fit to succeed her, though for completely different reasons. She had to have a successor, though; she had to search for another apprentice. She had to choose wisely this time, had to pick the right pony. She had the feeling that she only had enough time left to train one more. It had to be the right one, if Equestria was to survive.
“ … and that is the tale of the Lady mi Amore Cadenza, sorceress protégé of Celestia, the last mi Amore, and heir to Cant’r Laht,” Lilian concluded his story, strumming his lute one last time.
The night had dragged on as he told his tale, but his audience had been too enraptured to notice (other than the younger foals, who had nodded off not from disinterest, but from tiredness). Through it, Lilian had managed to get his hooves on some stew to fortify himself for the journey. He suspected, given his audience’s responses, that he would have food for the rest of the journey to the Dominions of Cant’r Laht so long as he supplied them with more stories. All in all, it had been a successful night for the troubadour.
“Surely her story doesn’t end there,” one of the mares in the crowd asked, “What else ‘as she done? Where is she now?”
“Well, that’s as far as the story goes for now, since she hasn’t been in Equestria for the past thirteen years,” Lilian said dramatically, “When Celestia signed a treaty with Ingrirtireth of Tyrannus to secure peace with the dragons, she agreed to a hostage exchange. Ingrirtireth sent Celestia the egg which later hatched into his son, Spike, who accompanies Twilight Sparkle, Celestia’s current apprentice and the leader of the Brave Companions. Celestia sent Cadence to Tyrannus and she’s been there ever since with no word back. Maybe someday she’ll return to Equestria, but that remains to be seen.”
***
Cadence took a deep breath before trying her spell again. The crystals on the wall rearranged themselves into a model of Cant’r Laht. As she pressed the enchantment, it grew more and more detailed. Just as it was reaching the point where outlines of individual crystal ponies could be seen on the streets, the spell collapsed and the crystals became an amorphous chunk again. Cadence sighed and looked at the failure in disappointment. It had been years since Celestia had confided in her that she’d reached the limits of her magical potential, so soon after becoming an alicorn, but still she wanted to try to do more complex magic. It wasn’t like there was much else to do here.
The thirteen-year anniversary of her trip to Tyrannus had come and gone, and she was still a hostage of Ingrirtireth to secure peace with Equestria. She wasn’t treated like a prisoner, except for the fact that she wasn’t allowed to leave Tyrannus and was only allowed to leave Ingrirtireth’s lair with his permission. Otherwise, she was able to explore the mountain more or less at liberty, though dragons tended to grumble if she got too close to their hoards. She’d tried to learn about the dragons, but she’d reached the limit of what they were willing to tell her years ago. She was in the process of learning their language still, but it was nearly impossible for her to pull it off, since large portions of it were impossible with a pony’s mouth structure and vocal cords and without the ability to expel smoke, fire, and noxious fumes. Now, she spent most of her time in her chambers trying out new spells.
Her home here was a large complex of chambers that had been carved out of the rock, probably through magical means. There were other such complexes for ponies near hers, but they were all abandoned. Normally, there would be no places for ponies in a dragon’s lair other than slave pits, but Ingritireth was different from the other dragonlords. It wasn’t that he respected ponies more than other dragons (if anything it was the opposite), but he’d recognized long ago that tribute from the “lesser races” was valuable, and they were more likely to give better tribute and rebel less if they were given reasonable accommodations when visiting. That was what these chambers had originally been built for, but nopony came to the dragonlord’s lair to pay tribute anymore, so Cadence was given a set to stay in so that she couldn’t complain, while the rest were left empty.
That was why it puzzled the sorceress so much when she heard a knock on her door. Dragons didn’t knock, they just walked in without asking. She expelled her remaining magic reserves transforming the crystalline mess into something presentable before trotting over to the door. When she opened it, there was a zebra standing outside who looked a bit surprised that Cadence had answered.
“Hello. Who might you be?” Cadence asked when the zebra remained silent.
“Oh, Low Equestrian,” the zebra replied, surprising Cadence with her near-perfect pronunciation, “I am Rezor’ah-Urillay mol’Registav. As daughter to Padishah Ulm the Great Light, I was sent here as a hostage. I had no idea anyone else was here.”
“I am the Lady mi Amore Cadenza. Cadence will do fine, though. I am heir to Celestia, and am also a hostage,” Cadence said, “Please, come in, Rezor.”
She was interested to hear what this zebra had to say. Cadence rarely received news here and she had no idea that the Zebrikaanian Empire had a new Padishah. She wanted to hear all about it, and also to connect with someone who wasn’t a dragon. Rezor took a seat on one of the cushions Cadence had managed to convince the dragons to bring her, since everything here was made of stone and quite a pain. Cadence offered her guest some tea, which she politely declined, before taking a seat across from her.
“I’ve never met an alicorn before,” Rezor commented once they were situated, “It must be such a story.”
“Oh, I suppose so,” Cadence said, just so happy to have someone to talk to, “Would you like to hear it?”
“I would like that very much,” Rezor said, and Cadence didn’t notice her guest’s eyes briefly shift from brown to green and the slight sound of insect wings fluttering.