It’s amazing to think that we’re sending our daughter to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Especially with how, well, powerless she seemed during her youth. Though, of course, we probably should have seen this coming; she has been showing signs. Well… I say signs, but I mean…
Oh, I don’t know how to explain it- or even what half of them are. Perhaps you can read this story and explain it to me, her pegasus mother, so I know for next time. You know, for the inevitability that there will be a next time. I am expecting, after all.
An experiment. This story is the first of its kind, that I've seen. It's told in first-person point of view, but never from the main character's point of view.
This story also represents a significant increase in plot depth over my other stories. Far less action, but more story. More life. In theory.
More ponies. With more persistence, less irrelevance.
If you have a name, a color pattern, or a character idea you'd like to see, mention it. I will probably use it- and when I do, I will credit you.
And as always, tags will be updated as the story progresses.
Ah-hah! There’s my target. She’s a green pegasus, with purple mane. Not the prettiest combination, in my opinion, but when does that matter? She’s married, after all.
I make a fuss about putting on my dark sunglasses before I step out of a local storefront to talk to her. Nevermind it’s thoroughly overcast, not sunny. It’s “agents” like myself that make it so easy for real agents, also like myself, to hide.
“Hey, um, miss… Hearts, was it?”
She raises an eyebrow at me, before a wash of recognition flashes across her face. Not that she knows who I am; rather, I’m rather much of a laughing stock in the area: The secret agent wannabe.
She chuckles lightly. “Yes, the name’s Dancing Hearts. Did you need something?”
“Uh, Yes, please,” I stammer; I don’t think anypony has ever responded quite so positively to my false-agent efforts. “Can we, um, talk?”
She chuckles again. “Sure. Where to?”
“Uh…” I honestly hadn’t planned that part- which I really should have, because this is legitimate Agency business I’m chalking up to my false-agent persona. Before I think of a place, though, she suggests one… An Agency favorite, actually.
“How about a private booth at the Hooves and Pans?”
I blink, out of only partly feigned surprise. “Uh, sure, that works.” I make a show of bowing to her, gesturing down the street. “Lead the way.”
She chuckles again. “You know, that’s the wrong way,” she states. “Hooves and Pans is in the other direction.”
I blink. Had I allowed myself to become disoriented again…? Yes, I had. It’s a bad habit of mine, sourced from my persona. I quickly use my real Agency skills to reorient myself from the building faces on the other side of the street, and clear my throat, turning the other way. She’s right. “Well then, lead the way.” I repeat the bowing performance.
She lets out a snort of laughter and obeys. “Sure thing, dear.”
I follow. She leads me straight to the Hooves and Pans- even uses a shortcut I didn’t know of before. She also leads me into the famous restaurant.
“Welcome to the Hooves and Pans,” the door greeter states, bowing gently as we enter. “Is it just the two of you?”
I fill my lungs to speak, but she’s faster.
“Yes, for a private booth. I believe the password is…” She leans in close, mutters something in his ear. I strain mine, but don’t catch it.
He blinks. “Uh, Roger that. Um…” He fumbles with the documents on his desk.
I tilt my head slightly. Why do I get the feeling that Agent Pots is trying to hide having expected her?
He shortly gets his papers in order, makes a tick mark on one of them, and leads us to an empty booth. “Right then,” he states, offering our menus as we take our seats. He continues to name our server, and the manager on duty, before promising the server- the cover name that Agent Pans uses, if I remember right- would be out shortly and disappearing himself.
Mrs. Hearts immediately lets out a chuckle. “You know, if you’re going to play the spy game, it might help to do some research on your targets before making contact. I’m married.”
I feign surprise, and blink. “... Oh. Um…”
“Right,” she states, before leaning in and hushing down to a mutter. “The server is coming, isn’t he? But once he’s gone, you’re going to be- oh, what was it again? Agent Black Glasses?”
I blink. So, she saw right through the false-agent-hiding efforts and decided to play along. She doesn’t have a clue as to my real Agency identity, as Agent Shotglass. “Uh,” I mutter back. “It’s Agent Briefcase, actually… was I really that obvious?”
She snorts. “With glasses that dark on a cloudy day? I don’t know of anyone that wouldn’t see through it. Server inbound!”
I look up- and sure enough, it’s Agent Pans, trotting up with notebook, quil, and inkpot floating in her magic aura.
“Hello, my name is Serving Speed, and I’ll be your server today. Are you ready to place your orders?”
“Yes, I think?” Hearts states, glancing up at me.
I nod hastily. “Uh, yes. Um…” I proceed to order something off the top of my head- and barely catch myself in time to avoid reciting the catalogue number for it.
Mrs. Hearts shows no such restraint, reciting three separate catalogue numbers for her order. I remember seeing them in the menu, but I don’t remember what they are.
No biggie. Agent Pans trots away shortly.
“So,” Mrs. Hearts immediately begins. “This is the part where you ask me as many questions as you can in as roundabout a manner as you can, in an effort to get me to answer candidly. It is my job, in return, to answer honestly- and, to help you improve your, um, cover, try and guess both what you’re seeking and why you ask each question. Right?”
I blink at her. “Um… Yes, I suppose. I… I never really thought of it that way. Um… That works, I guess. Um…” I rack my brain for a roundabout method. I’d planned to use my false persona to bullnose my way through the questions; the matter at hoof isn’t very sensitive and, honestly, my previous investigations suggested she’s more susceptible to that kind of questioning- thus, the hours I usually spend before going into an interview session… I must pack them into a few seconds, and with no papers, to boot.
… This isn’t going to go very well. I ask my first question.
She laughs. “Not very roundabout, is it?”
I cringe. “I’m… Not very good at asking roundabout questions.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Oh?”
I sigh, hanging my head. “I’m still working on it.”
She chuckles. “You know, I think I can see why she thinks you’re the real deal.”
My head snaps up. “What?”
Her chuckle intensifies. “Yes. That odd combination of blundering stupidity and fine coordination. That does seem a little, shall we say, incongruous, Agent Shotglass?”
I can only stare at her. My jaw is probably hanging wide open, but I’m not sure.
She smiles. “Anyways, you asked a question, and it would be rude to leave you hanging. Let’s see…”
It always seems to start with me, for some reason. I was the first one of my birth family to seek higher education; I was the first one to move out. I was the first one to get a job. I was the first one to find a marefriend.
Then of course, between me and my wife, Dancing Hearts, I was the one to break the ice. I was the one to ask her out on a date, to ask her to marry. That was amusing; she’d wondered if it was even important to be legally married. I was the one to do the research; it is, for numerous, predominantly legal, reasons.
I was the one to point out how much she wanted to have a foal. I was the one that- can you believe, she still thought the stork delivered babies to parents that loved each other?
I still have trouble with that. It was only a year ago, after all. I explained the real process to her- and, shortly after, she was proud to be pregnant. Now, as of about a month ago, we’re both first-time parents. Our daughter is a joy to be around, even at only a single month old.
But we’re not enjoying it.
That is to say, she’s a delight during the day. Other, more experienced parents have been warning us to beware of magic surges. Especially with a Unicorn foal, I’m told, they can be dangerous. Good thing I’m a unicorn as well. We haven’t seen any such surges. I’m hoping she’s just a late bloomer, rather than what everypony else is saying- that the lack of surges may mean she’s powerless.
My hope is dying out. Her first, and smallest, surge is supposed to happen around the three week mark, but we’re at four and we haven’t seen anything.
But in any case, for as delightful as she is during the day, she’s the terror of our nights. Every couple of hours, sometimes less, she gets hungry or something and starts crying. We’ve taken to taking turns getting up to tend to her; that way, we both get at least some semblance of sleep.
I just took my turn, feeding her and rocking her back to sleep. I’m trying to get back to sleep myself, when my ear twitches- and I’m able to confirm, she’s crying again. I let out a low groan and prod my wife awake.
She awakens slowly, and raises her eyebrow at me.
“Your turn, dear,” I inform her.
She grumbles as she pulls herself free of the blankets, then swats me in the face with a wing before she rolls off the bed.
I’ll never get over that. I might have a magic horn, but she’s got those natural husband-swatters of hers.
I don’t think much about it, though, and resume my descent to sleep as she ambles out to take care of her.
I’m just about to get it when it’s torn violently away from me. That scream most certainly didn’t come from our daughter. It also sounded panicked- and that’s not something that Dancing is good at faking. Believe me, she’s tried.
This is where my being a unicorn comes in handy. A momentary pulse of magic throws the blanket against the ceiling, leaving me free to leap out of bed and gallop to the filly’s room. Funny, it seems young Lyra has stopped screaming.
The door flies open in front of me, and I screech to a halt in front of the crib, next to my panicked wife. She’s holding Lyra in her forehooves.
“What happened?” I ask.
Even before she answers, I find an answer. There’s a blood smear on Lyra’s muzzle, by the side of her mouth; this matches the bloody patch on her pillows. Then, she’s lying, apparently asleep, in my wife’s hooves.
Dancing is smart. She knows I’m a doctor, and she knows where I’m looking. “She won’t wake up,” she states, tears entering her voice. “She was choking.”
I cast a momentary spell. “She’s not dead yet,” I state. “Brace yourself!” I then flare my horn, and teleport all three of us to the nearby hospital, where I work as a surgeon. Had she been grown, I might have tried to treat her myself. However, infants are not my specialty, and I’d be more likely than not to kill her.
Good thing there are a few doctors in this hospital that do specialize in infants. We hoof her off to one of those doctors very quickly. He is able to confirm- before he runs away with her- that she is still alive, but won’t be for long if he doesn’t act quickly.
We wait anxiously. Every minute or two, Dancing starts to panic again- and I remind her that, in this case, the lack of news is good news. At this hospital, if a patient dies, we try to deliver the news to anypony waiting as quickly as possible.
Eventually, Doctor Colt enters the waiting room in unhurried manner. Lyra is not floating in his magic aura; rather, a clipboard is. “Good news and bad news,” he states.
Dancing locks her gaze on him, as if daring him to tell her her daughter is dead.
I sigh. “Good news first, please.”
He nods. “We were able to stabilize her condition,” he states. “She is out of mortal danger.” He sighs. “She’s on life support right now, but we expect to be able to send her home within the hour.”
Dancing relaxes, breathing out a long-held sigh of relief.
He looks at me. “The bad news… It’s Shock Learning Syndrome.”
Dancing looks at him quizzically, but unlike her, I know what he’s talking about. Shock Learning Syndrome is very rare, usually inflicting retired scholars that have gone from studying day in and day out to simply relaxing all day every day. Several scholars have stepped down their studying efforts in stages, reaching that relaxation; none of them were ever inflicted. We think it’s the backlash of a brain that’s used to working simply… stopping. Not unlike a sprinter slamming into a brick wall, rather than slowing to a gallop, canter, trot, and walk, before stopping. When it happens, their brain makes thousands of connections very quickly- usually, the same amount they’d normally make across a few days.
The problem with SLS is that the inflicted usually become vegetables. Sometimes they’ll yap nonesense, but in no case have they retained an IQ above fifteen. Once upon a time, it happened to a filly, almost a month after she got her cutie mark in studying; afterwards, the mental retardation was too severe. She had to be cared for for every moment of her life, and was completely incapable of learning. She’d held onto an IQ of about two.
I sigh. “How bad is it?”
Dancing catches her breath, turning to look at me.
He shakes his head. “We don’t know. It’s a severe case, and she’s young enough her body wasn’t able to handle it without help. We’re hoping she’s young enough her brain can adjust fully. It’s trying to do that now, while she’s in a coma.” He sighs. “Either way, she’s likely to be a… unique child.”
“Can… Can we see her?” my wife asks. I raise my eyebrow.
He nods. “Yes, if you will follow me.” He leads us both out of the waiting room, down the hallway towards the hospital room.
As we go, I ask a question. “Can we measure the impact it’ll have?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Unfortunately, there is no way to do that while she’s so young. We can check her for her birth instincts, but that’s about it.”
I nod. “That’ll tell us whether or not she’ll need intensive care for the rest of her life.”
He nods. “Yes.”
I stand next to the bed, watching the readouts. In the few cases we’ve gotten Shock Learning Syndrome victims into the hospital very quickly, we’ve been able to watch this battle. The even fewer cases when the doctors tried to interfere, to produce something other than the destructive outcome, have always resulted in total destruction- that is to say, brain death.
The filly’s brain is fighting against itself, trying to make sense of the structural changes the event forced upon it. Every time I’ve seen, it hasn’t been able to, instead doing severe damage to itself before it gives up and lives with what it has left. But it’s been theorized that it is possible for it to figure itself out before it does that irreparable damage.
Doctor Gentle Colt just left to inform the filly’s parents of what happened. I watch the little orange lines appearing in the magic-powered readouts. The little orange lines, corresponding to minor, repairable damages, normally found in the brain of somepony who has “burned out” on a sudden study surge. They’re generally insignificant, though they can hurt, depending on severity. I watch them grow.
There will be a point, like every other patient, when they start turning black- and most of the brain follows suit, before everything stops. I watch the readouts.
Then I blink. The activity in this filly’s brain is spreading. Just like it did on all the others; the active parts will survive. I’ve noticed that, the larger the active part, the greater the remaining IQ.
Only, the activity is spreading far faster than I’ve ever seen before. I glance at the door, and back at the machine. It’s now spread further than I’ve ever seen before. The orange lines broaden, a new one forms. Then, almost all at once, her entire brain starts working… and everything stops.
I hold my breath, staring at the readouts, for what seems like forever. Finally, I spot a little flurry of motion, scattered across the filly’s brain. It flits around for a few seconds before the display goes dead.
I blink, and turn to look at the filly. Did I…? No, I didn’t forget to secure the thaumic channels properly. Instead, the little green filly removed her oxygen mask, taking the scanning hardware with it, and is now sitting up, looking at it. I think my jaw is hanging, but I really don’t care.
The filly looks at the thaumic equipment, one hoof pressed against her forehead, for only a couple more seconds before looking at me. “Uh, hethpo...” She scowls visibly, before dropping herself back down on her back, her other forehoof coming up to join the other in massaging her temples. “Ow,” she mutters, closing her eyes.
I… I think I just fainted. I lift myself off the floor, rubbing the side of my own head for a second, and look around. Nothing’s changed; the filly is still rubbing her temples.
“I…” I mutter. “I need to get the Doctor.” I walk towards the door.
“Okah.”
I pause and look back at her. It sounded very much like baby talk, but it was also clearly a word. “You are a very strange child, you know?”
She nods.
Somepony knocks on the door.
I let out a small yelp, jumping slightly as I turn to the door. Then, while she giggles on the bed, I open the door, probably blushing furiously. “Sorry- Oh, Doctor Colt. I wasn’t, uh…”
He sighs, and opens his mouth to speak.
The filly behind me beats him to it, projecting her voice slightly. “Hai,” she states. The pegasus mare behind him- presumably the mother- perks her ears, her head rising as her gaze locks onto the opening. Doctor Hamstrings, probably the father, does something similar.
“She already finish?” Doctor Colt asks.
I nod. “Yes. She…” I swing the door open, stepping back- and looking back towards the bed, as well.
“Hai,” she repeats, and puts on an innocent smile. She’s sitting up again, propped forwards on her forelegs, both ears pointed forwards. The oxygen mask and scanning equipment are sitting next to her on the bed.
Both doctors blink. “Uh…”
I look at them. “Full recovery,” I state. “And yes, she’s… talking.”
The filly chooses that moment to raise one hoof, to point to the trio standing in the door. “Hu?”
Doctor Colt falls on his face.
“Uh, oopth…” She scowls at her sheets again.
I hear the sound of another pony hitting the floor. I glance over; it’s Doctor Hamstrings.
“Uh…” I begin, before I glance at the mother- staring with her jaw hanging- and turn back to the filly. “Do that again?”
She grins, and looks at her mother. “Wat… meh… na-meh?”
The third pony falls to the floor, eliciting a giggle.
I smile, glancing at the three ponies on the floor. “Uh… that was, ‘what’s my name’?”
She nods.
“Ahh… Um, I don’t know what your name is, but I’m Nursing Intern Redheart, and these are Doctors Colt and Hamstrings.” I indicate each in turn. “I… don’t know who she is.”
“Ta-nka… Uu.” She scowls briefly at her sheets.
Very suddenly, the pegasus flies back to her hooves. “Did-!” she begins.
“Gah!” the filly calls, mirroring my reaction perfectly before she starts giggling.
The mare shakes her head briefly, before looking at me. “Did I just hear my daughter ask what her name was?”
I nod.
The filly also answers. “Yyy-ah!” It sounds like she put in a lot of effort to make the Y sound.
The pegasus looks over at her daughter, eyes wide.
“This is the first time in recorded history, to my knowledge, that a pony has fully recovered from SLS,” I inform her. “We… I… don’t know what to expect.” I look down at Doctor Colt. “Doctor Colt might, but…” I look back up at the mother. “I think she might want to know your name, too.”
“Yy-ah!”
The pegasus looks back at her daughter; she’d turned towards me while I spoke. “... Oh.” She steps up closer to the bed, looking at her daughter. “... Hi,” she states.
The filly nods. “Hai.”
The mother blinks. “Uh… Hi. Um...”
“Lll-oh.”
“Low? Uh… Okay. Um…” She takes a deep breath. “Hi, my name’s Dancing Hearts, and…” she takes another deep breath. “And you’re my daughter, Lyra Heartstrings.”
“Ll-ie-Rrr-ah,” she pronounces, before pointing a hoof at her mom. “D-Daa-nnn, t- n- tst-” She gives a little huff, then shakes the hoof slightly before speaking declaratively. “Mom.”
Dancing Hearts smiles really wide, tears spilling from her eyes, before she draws her daughter into a hug. “That works,” she states. “That will always work.”
At first, I thought that our daughter learning to talk so soon, despite being an amazing development, would only torture us more during the night. When I asked my husband in private, he agreed- though he also mentioned her being able to talk should take the guessing out of the equation.
So that night, we had gone to bed, expecting to be awoken shortly by her yells.
Then, when I woke up, Celestia’s Sun was shining. I figured my husband had tended to Lyra each time, and trotted over to check on her; he was still asleep. I found her playing with some of her toys. When asked, she didn’t speak- she just smiled innocently and pointed a hoof at the short row of empty milk bottles lined up against the inside of her crib. Apparently, she’d gotten them herself.
Not too long later, I decided, with my husband, that it was a blessing in disguise. Not only could she talk, but she could tend to herself. As a matter of fact, she seemed to enjoy tending to herself- and still does. I actually caught her using the toilet once, even though she hasn’t been potty trained; it was shortly after that that I talked to her… and she stopped wearing diapers, because she didn’t- and still doesn’t- need them.
Our next problem came, less than a week later, in that she enjoys playing with us far more than she enjoys playing with herself- and as much as we like playing with her, we’re not available nearly as much as we’d like. So, we started trying to find somepony more her age to play with.
She’s almost three years old now, and we’ve been searching for most of that time. We still haven’t found anypony, mostly because their parents are all afraid she’s contagious. Even after I reminded them that not only is SLS non-contagious, it’s also non-communicable.
… They never seem to care.
Neither did she, honestly- when we gave her the news, she’d shrugged and asked to go to the park. That was a year ago and now, she’s allowed to go to the park whenever she wants, as long as she lets us know where she’s going and is back in time for dinner.
Our latest problem is staring at me in the face, in her hoof: An acceptance letter from the local magic kindergarten.
The problem with that is that she’s never shown any magical capability whatsoever. Well, aside from her hoofgrip- but she’s shown absolutely no sign of being able to use her horn. No magic surges, no nothing. Yet, they wouldn’t have accepted her without at least some capability.
I stare at the page for another several seconds, trying to make sense of it.
“So… You’ve been accepted to Magic Kindergarten.”
“Yes,” she states calmly. She’s a very patient child.
“Even though you’ve never…?” I look up at her horn.
She sighs, before closing her eyes.
I almost hit my head on the ceiling with my jump when a spray of sparks emerges suddenly from the tip of her horn. My wings instinctively flash out to arrest my fall, and I land rather gracelessly. “Uh…”
She smiles at me. “I did experience magic surges,” she states. “Just… they were never very big, and always easy to control. At the time, I thought it was something all unicorns dealt with all the time, so I never brought it up.” She sighs. “Never thought to, after they went away.”
“... Oh. Um, sure, we can do this.” I take the letter, opening it. Won’t Hamstrings be amazed.
I step slowly in the front door, amongst all these strangers. Sure, they’re all unicorn fillies my age, all here to start magic kindergarten, but there’s so many. There’s, like, twenty-eight of them- no, twenty-nine, that green one looks to have been early. That makes a total count, including myself, of thirty.
I sidle over to the wall rather quickly; without my parents, I don’t know how to talk to anypony. They’re just… I don’t get them. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and resume walking to the classroom. At least I know where to go, and how to read, and how to follow instructions. That’s all I should need to get started.
I can’t shake the nagging feeling that I’m forgetting something. I mean, I have that notebook my mom gave me, so it’s not like I can’t-
Wait. It is like I can’t; I don’t know how to write. I have forgotten something.
I’m vaguely aware that my walking has come to a stop, my breathing intensifying, as I try to process my dilemma and find a solution. I’ve never written before. I don’t even know how to hold a quill- Mom always floats it in her magic, but I don’t have anywhere near that fine a level of control over my levitation yet! How am I gonna-
Something hard pokes my shoulder. I let out a gasp, jumping slightly and looking. It’s a hoof.
“You okay?” the green filly, the one that was early, asks.
I glance around the entrance hall; we’re alone, save for the two teachers still chatting over there. Class doesn’t start for another… There’s the clock. Uh, six minutes. I blink at her. “Weren’t you early?”
She sighs. “Early is boring,” she states. “Besides, you look lonely. Are you okay?”
I blink. “Oh, uh… I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“You make it sound like you don’t know how to walk.”
I snort. “I can walk just fine! It’s just… I can’t write. I don’t even know how to hold the quill!”
She smiles. “You’re worried about nothing,” she states. “Most of the students here can’t write.”
“What? But- But how am I going to take notes if I can’t write?”
She sighs again. “If you’re that worried about it, I can help.”
“Huh? But the teacher-!”
She shakes her head. “The entire first week is about getting to know our classmates. Especially if we hang out after school- might have to ask your parents, I know mine will be okay with it- I can have you writing novels by the time we hit any real schoolwork… Which, I understand, starts with how to read.”
I blink. “Really? Novels?”
She chuckles. “Probably not really, but you’ll certainly be able to write at least legibly… Uh, my way, that is. Pretty sure hornwriting is easier, but I can’t do that- and it sure beats mouthwriting.”
“Huh? Then-!”
She shakes her head. “I can’t even lift the quill off the desk with my horn,” she states, “unless I poke it. And even then.” She chuckles, whipping a quill out of her saddlebags to twirl around her hoof. “I never could figure out why everypony seems satisfied with using their mouths when we’ve got these perfectly usable hooves.”
I nod slowly. “... Ahh.”
“Anyways, we’ve got, like, two minutes left.” She glances up at the clock. “Two and a half. But anyways- wanna get started?”
“Uh… maybe? I’m not very good at, um…”
She smiles. “Neither am I! Fun fact, you’ll never get better if you never try. Come on- I can help. Sometimes.”
I let out a snort of laughter as we turn towards the classroom. “Right then. So, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”
She breaks out in a grin, hopping slightly away from me to turn face-on and bow. “It is I, Lyra Heartstrings, who will be your escort today, Princess…?” She trails off, raising one eyebrow slightly as one hoof rises slightly.
I blink, blush, and give her my name.
She completes her show, then jumps right back next to me, resuming the path into the classroom.
“I’m not a princess, though,” I mutter, as we reach the door.
She gasps comedically. “Not a Princess? Oh no! I guess we’ll just have to make you one! All you need is, what, a crown? Oh, and wings. But no worries, we can get those!”
I can only start laughing as we enter the room. Especially when a white filly inside the room, overhearing the latter half of Lyra’s statement, pitches in instantly.
“Shoot, I forgot to bring the wings! By the way, the name’s Vinyl Scratch. Hey Glamour, did you remember the crown?”
The named filly, with what I think is a bright blue coat under her dress and an excessively shiny golden mane, blinks, and nods. “Yes, absolutely!” She promptly pulls a folded plastic crown out of her saddlebags and, before I have time to fully process what’s happening, unfolds it and sticks it on my head. “Name’s Glamour Strings, by the way. How about you?”
I give her my name too. I think I’m in a bit of a trance right now.
A third filly trots up; I notice we’re catching the attention of everypony in the room. She’s got a deep blue coat, with a gentler blue mane, and there’s something purple on her back. “Hi Princess!” she states, before glancing at Vinyl. “Don’t worry, I got the wings for you,” she states, before levitating the purple thing on her back to mine… and unfolding it along the way. It’s a set of plastic wings. “I’m Blue Chime, by the way.”
I can only stand for a few more seconds, before I look back at the wings she put on my back. After a couple seconds of examination, I light my own horn. I hear a collective moan from the rest of the room as I do so- but then I straighten my head, holding it high, while I use my magic to flare the wings. “Sure,” I state, “I’ll be a Princess when I grow up.”
Most of the room breaks out into either cheers or giggles, save only for five ponies, myself included… No, six- the teacher entered while I wasn’t looking… No, five. She’s cheering too.
The other four are Lyra, Vinyl, Glamour, and Blue.
“Score!” Glamour cries, before sharing a hoofclap with the other three.
I let out a little giggle, before turning to Lyra. “I thought you said you were bad at…?”
She nods. “I am,” she states. “These three are my only friends.” She smiles, her eye sparkling. “So far.”
I let out a giggle. “Would you like another?”
She glances at the other three, then all four speak together. “Absolutely!”
Then Lyra speaks alone. “Welcome to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Princess!”
I blush, smile spreading. Then the teacher talks.
“That was probably the best icebreaker I’ve ever seen,” she states. “Congratulations, Crusaders!”
All four of them look at each other again, then at Twilight.
Lyra leans in real quick. “This is where we say ‘Woohoo, Hall of Fame!’ and hoofclap again,” she states quietly, before returning to her original position.
“Uh,” I begin, and fill my lungs. The rest follow suit.
We yell together. “Woohoo, Hall of Fame!” The hoofclap stings a little- and what looks like fireworks fly out of Glamour’s horn to burst and sparkle in the air. Woohoo, perfectly synchronized, too! Lyra whips out a notebook and quill, scribbles something down with her hoof, and returns them to her saddlebags.
I never thought I’d say this, but it’s fun to be with these ponies. We mingle with the rest of the class, as instructed; however, I never get the feeling that I’m really going to get along with many of them. I get the feeling the rest of the Crusaders are experiencing similar results, so by the end of the class, the room has split into three groups: Us, and two others that don’t have either names or organization.
She chuckles. “Actually, yes, I did know. She told me herself, a while before they started… Well, you know.” She gestures at the space between us, a smile on her face. “With some of the antics she’s described during their planning meetings, I daresay she’s the only reason they haven’t sent anypony to the hospital.”
I blink. “Wasn’t Twilight doing that?”
She nods. “Oh yes, she does- some. You see, Twilight has a bit of a fixation on learning… Lyra described it to me, once. She said, Twilight would, let’s see… ‘smash a glass jar to find out if it’s breakable’. With some of the experiments she said Twilight suggested…” She shudders. “I, for one, am glad she never got to test how much water the average rooftop could deflect before collapsing.”
It’s a lab day. That’s the only way I can describe it; I’m not into the science of the world very much.
It all started around a week ago, when Twilight had wondered idly, during a rainstorm, how much water the roof could handle before it broke. Three days ago, I caught the budding scientist with a testing plan that might well have flooded the city, and almost certainly would destroy a few rooftops. Unfortunately, I’m not a scientist- or engineer. So I used a few choice words to get her to discuss with the rest of us before she started testing. She’d done that, later that day- and just like I had, Lyra had balked at Twilight’s methodology.
That had been my goal: Get the plan in front of Lyra before it could do any damage. The engineer has been a bit of a killjoy in our group, despite being the leader- but for good reason. I’ve lost count of the times she’s saved our flanks by pointing out what could- and probably would- go wrong with any given plan we came up with. Once, when we did something without her, she found us before the authorities- and managed to not only pull myself and Blue out of Glamour and Twilight’s sleds’ paths, but fast-talk our way out of a trespassing violation. Something about Twilight owning the violated land, if I remember right. Ever since then, she’s been involved with every single activity we do. If she’s not available, we wait until she is.
Twilight is still working on that.
Anyways, Lyra had done her thing. I hadn’t understood any of it, and I’m still not sure how pouring a couple gallons of water over a set of model rooftops at faster and faster speeds until they break is going to help. If I remember right, even ever-studying Twilight had difficulty understanding the methodology until she’d explained it three times.
I adjust the valve, opening it slightly; the model didn’t break yet. I look up at Blue, who is helping me and Glamour set up our ‘test rig’, I believe she called it, for the next test. Twilight and Lyra are busy discussing the numbers- though it sounds more like Lyra is explaining them to Twilight. Who isn’t getting them.
“So…” I begin. “Do you have any clue how the time it takes to drain the tub onto a model will tell her how much water a real rooftop can withstand?” I ask.
Blue shrugs.
“How about why she’s using inches to describe water?” Glamour asks.
I shake my head. “No clue.”
Lyra trots back up, right on schedule. Twilight, following her, still looks confused. I open my mouth to ask- but she beats me to it.
“Aaaand, Twilight just asked the same thing,” she states, before looking at the named pony. “Again.”
Twilight smiles sheepishly.
“Alright,” I state, Blue and Glamour lining up on either side.
Lyra smiles, and makes a show of clearing her throat. “A-hem, class is now in session,” she states, as Twilight joins us. “I’ve been trying to start with the house rooftop and go down, in previous explanations, but that doesn’t seem to be working. So this time, I’ll start with the decisions I made, why they matter, and go from there.
“First, we have the models. Ten different model roofs, of three different structures. It’s a small sample size, but these three structures are found in over ninety-five percent of Canterlot’s structures- including, I understand, Canterlot Castle itself. We’re using multiple to allow for errors in construction; this sample size allows us to estimate for the ‘average rooftop’.” She smiles. “The number of each structure in our models is proportionally similar to the number of each structure in Canterlot, according to the construction records, so our results should be representative of Canterlot as a whole. Make sense?”
She’s met by a round of nods.
“Right then. As for why it’s five gallons… it’s just an arbitrary volume. Not so large that it takes forever to filter down or reset, yet not so small that it might not be enough to break our models. Everypony probably already knows why we’ve got this after the valves, right?” She touches her hoof to the little contraption she’d called the ‘rain manifold’.
Everypony nods.
“To simulate a genuine rainfall,” Twilight states. “Prevent an unrealistic point load.”
“Exactly. We’re only timing four gallons because that makes it easier- and more accurate. Everything gets up to speed during the first gallon, then runs at a pretty constant rate until it runs out.
“Now we get to why rate is important.” She points a hoof at the roof above our heads. “Everpony here is in agreement that ten thousand gallons would crush that roof, right?”
Nod.
She nods as well. “Me too- though of course, it depends on how that water is poured on it. If it takes you ten thousand hours to pour all that water on it through fluffy little rainclouds, it’s never going to break it. If you dump that water on top of it as a brick- like we’d upturned a bucket- it’ll smash right through it and probably destroy a few homes around us, as well. Right?”
A few nods, and confused scowls.
She sighs. “This is where physics comes in. It’s a topic Magic Kindergarten hasn’t covered, and one I would have expected Twilight to have looked up. When you pour water on a rooftop, it flows right back off of it. That creates the aforementioned break-or-not-to-break problem- and is why the exact amount of water we’re using is unimportant, Instead, it’s the rate at which we pour the water that matters- how much water is hitting the rooftop over a specific period of time. That little example had rates of a gallon an hour… and somewhere around ten thousand gallons per second. Wildly different rates, wildly different results. Good so far?”
More nods.
“Good. Our models are what we call scale models- and in this case, they’re all exactly one twenty-fifth size of a real roof. Their strengths are all scaled down accordingly- so pouring one gallon on this model is equivalent to pouring roughly sixteen thousand- twenty five cubed- gallons on a similar rooftop somewhere in Canterlot.
“Then we get to the problem of area. Bigger roofs can withstand more water than smaller roofs, given that it’s distributed. That’s why our number can’t be a clean gallons per hour value- the same amount of water that would smash through the roof of the shed would probably bounce right off of the house roof. That’s why our final number is in inches per hour- one gallon, per one point six square feet, is one inch. That’s a square about fifteen inches on a side.
“This way, ten gallons per second on a ten square foot shed rooftop has the same rate as a thousand gallons on a thousand square foot house rooftop… both of which would probably collapse, because a gallon per second is a lot of water. Still good?”
Nod.
“Now. The reason we’re measuring time, rather than water, is fairly simple. We know how much water we have, we just want to know how long it’s taking. Four gallons, divided by however long it took, gives us a gallons per second number.”
A couple heads tilt.
“That’s where the rain manifold comes in. It doesn’t just distribute the water to simulate a rainfall- no, it has a known size, as well: thirty inches on a side, just like our models. Thus, four gallons per second going through it is exactly equivalent to one inch per second. Which becomes a scale twenty five inches per second. Which is a lot of water, and virtually guaranteed to smash through just about any roof in Canterlot, aside from drowning everypony and washing the city off the mountain.
“We’re calculating our times down to the thousandths of a second so we can have very precise measurements- and calculate an accurate inches per hour measurement. After all, I’ve seen monsoons that don’t reach a single inch per second.” She takes a deep breath. “That all make sense?”
Slow nod. “I think,” I state.
“Oh… OH!” Twilight states. “Oh! Now I understand! Thank you!”
“So then. Twilight Sparkle, Lyra Heartstrings, Vinyl Scratch, Glamour Strings, and Blue Chime. Collectively, the Cutie Mark Crusaders. If I am to understand this correctly, you teamed up on your own time to perform a series of experiments related to rooftop durabilities?”
“Yes Ma’am,” Lyra states. As the leader, she usually takes the lead- even if I am our ‘mascot’, the princess of the party. I still have the false wings and the crown; that is to say, they’re stored in our clubhouse for my use. We’re facing our Magic Kindergarten teacher right now, after school; on my suggestion, we extended the original experiment by a couple weeks, eventually compiling and submitting a paper. We finished last week.
“... Then you tested various structures, identified the design elements that contributed most to their strength, and designed the strongest one you could.”
“Yes ma’am,” Lyra states. “As I recall, our design is approximately thirty-eight point seven times stronger than the average Canterlot rooftop, for minimal additional materials, a negligible difference in construction labor, and absolutely no difference in exterior appearance.”
“So it is,” she states. “Who was it that came up with it?”
She shrugs. “We did, all together.” The rest of us nod. Vinyl, Glamour, and Blue were all enjoying themselves for much of the experiment, once Lyra explained everything.
“Ahh… So, we’ll just credit it to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, then?”
I raise my eyebrows. As expected, Lyra speaks first.
“Credit?” she asks. “Something happen?”
She smiles. “Actually, yes. I have a friend that happens to be an architect… and he agrees with your deductions.” She chuckles. “If the Canterlot Building Society accepts it, there’ll even be royalties.”
I blink. Royalties? Like, Princesses? I… I don’t understand. Lyra seems to.
“Ahh,” she states. “We… uh, the Crusaders, that is, are not a legal entity, so… Does it work to put it in the name of all five of us at once?”
She blinks. “Yes, we can do that. Have a good afternoon!”
We leave the room, and start walking home. It’s rather fortunate all our homes are close to each other- and in the same direction from school.
“What did she mean by royalties…?” I ask.
“Money,” Lyra states. “In short, if they take it, none of us will ever have to work a day of our lives… that is, once we grow up.”
“Sounds boring,” Glamour states.
She nods instantly. “Very.”
“So…” I mutter.
“You’ll find it in one of the financial law books,” she tells me.
I scowl at her. “There’s thirty of those and-!”
“Thirty two,” she states.
I huff. “Alright, thirty two of those, and I’ve still got eighteen physics books on my nightstand!”
She snorts. “Speaking of which, any luck?”
I let out a sigh; this is not going very well. “You know what… You know who I am, right?”
She nods.
“So… Can I go about it, um, candidly, and expect answers?”
She shrugs. “For the most part, yes.”
“Ahh. Then, I’ll cut straight to the point. Are you aware that, um…” I sigh again. “That, as of last Monday, your daughter- along with the rest of the Crusaders- have income?”
She blinks. “Income?” she asks. “What from?”
“Royalties on a new roof design,” I inform her. “Valued at almost a million bits just this morning.”
She blinks. “You mean to tell me she hasn’t even graduated Magic Kindergarten yet and she’s already a millionaire?”
I tilt my head. “Eh, in a manner of speaking. None of them will have access to their funds- it’s being split evenly across the five- until they hit age sixteen or enroll in a higher education institution, whichever comes first.” I sigh. “In all honesty, we’re expecting the value to be close to a half a billion bits, or more, by the time that happens.”
“So, she set herself up to be rich… on, what was it again? Roof designs?”
I nod. “It seems they did perform that experiment… many times over, with scale models. The Building Society loves their pattern.” I sigh. “The fillies have not and will not be informed directly, until such time as they gain access to their funds. You may break it to them now, if you so desire.”
I want to sigh, and to repeat myself exasperatedly, but those are numbers one and two on the list of the Top Ten Things Not to Do in front of Princess Celestia. Especially when she’s the one asking.
So instead, I repeat the request in as calm a tone as I can. “We would like to offer them admittance to your school.”
“Why?” she asks.
I almost sigh anyways. “They’ve been consistently turning science on its head for the last year,” I state. “So much that each one is worth over a billion bits, as of last night. We haven’t been able to find any outside source for their ability to do that; it seems they’ve found some new way of thinking that lets them just… Well, fix stuff.
“We have evaluated their individual abilities as well as their group abilities. Twilight has more raw power than ninety percent of your school’s staff, but lacks the finesse to use it properly. As near as we can tell, she’s already destined for your school, whether she knows it or not.
“Lyra seems to be lacking in terms of power, but she hasn’t let that stop her- I hear she’s managed spells that would trouble far more powerful unicorns like her father. She’s also the leader of the group- and there’s a consensus among my Agents that hers is the primary brain behind many of their… innovations, despite a lack of evidence to the effect.
“The other three, Vinyl, Glamour, and Blue, are much more, well, normal. Nothing… well, strange about them, save that the Crusaders’ best work has been done when all five were present, not the times when Twilight and Lyra have gotten together. Vinyl could probably pass the exam with brute force, though she seems to get bored and lose interest easily. Glamour lacks a little on the power side of things, but we think she has the finesse to pass.
“Blue is the only real quandary. She’s stronger than Glamour, but she doesn’t seem to care about her magic, so she’s never really developed it beyond the requirements- and we really don’t expect her to push herself anywhere beyond the graduation requirements.”
“You want me to make an exception to let them in?”
“Uh, no. Well… maybe in Lyra’s case, as her control vastly exceeds that of anypony I’ve ever seen- but the rest, no.”
“So why bring them up?”
“Because they perform better as a group than individually. I believe that, if they’re given a reason, each of the others can pass the entrance exam; we’re also projecting that, if all five receive the preliminary offer letter soon, they’ll have that reason- getting in together- and work for it.”
“So, why the exception for Lyra?”
“We’re fairly certain she doesn’t have the power to pass, even with the amazing feats she’s performed- and she seems to be the source of a lot of the ideas. If she were in your school, we could observe her more directly- and, potentially, guide her and her friends’ creativity. In theory, some of your instructors- or other students- could learn to think like she does, allowing a new era of innovation.”
She thinks for several seconds, before speaking again. “Alright, they’ll be invited. Do you think any of them would be good candidates for my personal student?”
I blink. I was not expecting that.
Though, I suppose, it does make sense. Her last student, Sunset Shimmer, left almost a full year ago. She’s been hunting for a new personal student ever since- but hasn’t found anypony… and here I am, suggesting not one but two prodigies, albeit of different kinds, to invite to her school.
“I… I don’t know,” I state. “Both Twilight and Lyra are possible, I suppose. If you’re willing to take multiple, the whole set might not be a bad idea- but in the end, it’s your decision.”
She nods slowly, a thoughtful expression on her features. “I’ll have to make sure I’m present for their exams, then,” she states.
Four months have passed. The season has come for the entrance exams to my School for Gifted Unicorns.
I have yet to find a new personal student. I need one.
I’m watching an entrance exam right now; Day Court has been reduced to evenings-only for the duration of the exam season so I can watch all of them. Every one of my personal students has been a newly-admitted student at my school. Last year, nopony had any promise, as a personal student. This year…
I checked the exam schedule each day for the first few weeks, praying to see either Lyra Heartstrings or Twilight Sparkle on the list. Even one of their friends- Vinyl Scratch, Glamour Strings, or Blue Chime- would have been a welcome sight! However, not once did I see any of them.
I’m beginning to lose hope. For the last couple days, I haven’t bothered to check the exam schedule, and only half-heartedly watched the exams taking place. I think the current exam-taker has purple fur.
I haven’t told anypony why I always have a personal student, nor why I replace them so quickly when they leave or… Well, only two have died so far, and one of those was from natural causes. They think I’ve chosen to honor them with my knowledge, my experience.
They’re wrong.
Sure, there is some truth in that. The biggest honor they’re receiving, though, is the one they don’t know they’re receiving. I honor them with the task of being my connection to my people. Without somepony to study my every move, I very easily become cold. I lose sight of what matters most to the ponies in front of me, and can quickly lose my benevolence. Once, long ago, I spent a dozen years or so without a student.
That was when I lost Luna.
Her student had been the de-facto ruler for almost ten years while I got my act together. I promised her, when I returned to power, that I would maintain a student. That I would keep a connection to my people, and to my family, so this would never happen again. As her life drew to an end, I helped her gain immortality.
It took all of my power for nine hundred years to complete the transformation. She then spent a few dozen years disguised as some of the more common breeds, learning how the nation had changed. Now, around ten years ago, we planned for and executed the revelation of her true form.
She’s a beautiful princess.
She’s also a people pony, unlike me. She finds it easy to socialize, to get to know her people directly.
Not that she has any, just yet. I’m planning on giving her the Crystal Empire, once it returns- and we find a way to eradicate King Sombra. We don’t yet know when that will be, but we should have at least a couple days’ warning. She’s training with my Royal Guards, in preparation. Pretty sure they’re learning more from her than the other way around, though; she did come from a time filled with war, rather than the peaceful country that is modern Equestria. It’s taken all of my wits, at some points, to use diplomatic pressures to prevent a war. With all my power focused on her transformation, I could not spare the power to protect my soldiers- or to lead them.
I’m beginning to lose hope. As time has gone on, fewer and fewer ponies have possessed the drive to perform, the power to excel. My School for Gifted Unicorns has had to, over time, reduce the entrance requirements.
My criteria for being my personal student have not changed. It took six months for me to find Sunset. I’m afraid I won’t be able to-
I must have jumped. My hooves clatter to a landing on the tile floor, my flanks sliding against it, as my eyes search the room. Something just exploded… but I don’t see any-
Sorry about that. I didn’t see any cause for the explosion. Speaking of which, I think it came from outside anyways.
Then, the examinee shone like my sun. No, brighter than my sun. I layer on the protective spells I use when I seek private time- it’s not often, but I do need it- on the surface of my sun.
It works… barely. Then the light goes away, and I cancel the spells.
I check around the room. The examinee is standing in the middle of the room, staring firmly at the remains of something, under a great big hole in the ceiling. There’s something purple in the middle of the debris.
The parents are off to the side, flexing their limbs as if they were standing for too long, making them a bit stiff. Funny, I don’t remember this exam starting that long ago. I look down at the papers in front of one of my examiners next to me.
“Pass,” the examiner in question states, before glancing at the other two. “Right?”
My peripheral vision spots the other two nodding. “Definitely,” one of them states.
At the same time, I found the name line on the page… and resist the urge to facehoof.
Twilight Sparkle. The page says no cutie mark, but the alicorn in the middle of the room has one.
Wait a minute. Alicorn?
… I daresay I’ve found my next student. And, probably, an assistant or something for her; it seems they gave her the egg test, and she hatched it successfully. I don’t know why there’s such a large hole in the ceiling, but I don’t want to risk my image by asking about it. I did see it, in theory, after all.
Some rainbows blow past the window. Strange.
“I…” the filly begins. “I… I did it. I think.” She looks at the examiners. “I hatched it, right?”
All three nod. “And got your Cutie Mark,” the one in the middle says. “Congratulations, you’ve passed.”
“I got my Mark?” she asks, an excited squeal entering her voice as she looks back at her flank.
Then she holds still for a couple seconds, before she unfolds the wing. “Uhh… is that supposed to happen?”
I step forwards. “It’s an independent blessing,” I state, still trying to force my jumbled thoughts into a cohesive stream. “Congratulations on passing the exam, ascending, and hatching yourself a new friend!”
She blinks, glances at the drake, and folds her wings, turning to bow down to me. “Thank you,” she states.
I smile. “How would you like to, as a fellow Princess, be my personal student?”
Her parents gasp. The examiners breathe a sigh of relief.
She has the most memorable reaction, in my opinion. She leaps backwards, away from me, her wings flaring out uncertainly in an attempt to catch her. She doesn’t flap them, though, so she lands back on her hooves, skittering backwards. “Wha- What? A Princess? No! I’m not a princess!” She then folds her wings back again.
I heave a sigh. “I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice in that regard. By Equestrian law, all Alicorns are automatically princesses. Would you like to study under me?”
“No! I can’t be a princess!” She flees the room. Her mom follows.
“Sorry, Princess,” her father states, bowing quickly. “She’s gotta in shock or something, probably just needs to think about it for a minute.” He gallops after his wife and daughter.
I resist the urge to follow. Her parents are probably right; I’ll have to come talk to her again later, once she’s had a chance to calm down and understand what just happened.
I take a deep breath. The perfect student, and she says no. Hopefully, she revises that answer. I’m not about to force it on anypony.
I’m tempted to retreat to my quarters to wait- but the examiners shuffle their papers for the next examinee, and I see who’s next.
Lyra Heartstrings.
I… I decide to stick around. The reports do suggest she might be an even better candidate, after all.
If she would be, and says no… I’ll very possibly lose my dignity. It’s… a small price to pay. Though, of course, that probably depends on how she says no- if it’s a panicked or surprised no, I’ll have to come back later. If not… Twilight might still say yes.
I’ve never been one to put all my eggs in one basket.
Even though it’ll put my sanity on a hair-thin bridge when I ask Twilight later, if Lyra would work but says- and means- no. So thin that, no matter Twilight’s answer, I’d have to retreat afterwards to recover, to put my mind together.
It’s… A small price to pay. If I run away now, when she would work and say yes, I’d be throwing away a perfect opportunity.
I will stay.
If I give up the opportunity, and Twilight denies, I will soon be unfit to rule Equestria.
If she says no, I will be unfit to rule Equestria. For only a short period, if Twilight says yes.
If… Oh, I can only hope she says yes. If she does, my internal balance can be restored, and quickly. I can continue to rule Equestria as the fair and benevolent ruler that I am… or at least, was before Sunset left.
My examiners call Lyra in.
She… takes forever to show. Her mom shows up briefly to tell us she’s ‘in the zone’, as it were, and will be over shortly. A minute later, she finally arrives, with both parents and a confusing expression.
I watch the exam. Abyss Gazer was right; she is working amazing feats with very little power. So much so that she passes; my examiners don’t have to fudge the results, and I don’t have to make an exception.
Now, this is not the point we tell her that she passed. No- this is the point we pull out the dragon egg, as a sort of placement test. Fortunately, we’ve got a few dozen of the things lying around. The carts are fewer, but we’ve got a few of those as well, so our gofer pushes it in for her.
She gazes at it for a few seconds, before glancing up at us. My examiners nod, so she turns her attention back to the egg.
She paces around it a few laps, horn glowing intermittently, and staring at it all along. She scowls, takes a few steps back, and concentrates, horn flaring.
I watch. Time crawls.
Almost six seconds of this later, a massive, white ring of energy forms around her horn, throwing a shockwave of the same across the room. Nothing big enough to cause damage, but it is certainly startling. I…
… She’s drawing power from the ethereal plane. Alicorns do that as a matter of course, but she’s a unicorn. She shouldn’t be able to even sense it, let alone control it. I… I close my jaw.
She’s not done. She doesn’t just shoot a beam at the egg, as most do. As Twilight probably did.
No. She resumes her circling, muttering to herself. A wireframe duplicate of the egg, nest, and cart surface forms, floating above it, as she goes. Shortly, she’s examining both the egg and her wireframe duplicate, probing at the former with her magic, the wireframe growing constantly more detailed, more complex.
She continues on this for a while, before she focuses entirely on the wireframe. She floats it over next to the real egg, spinning it around as she examines it. A flat space of air shimmers into existence next to her- a projection of a piece of parchment, I realize. A thaumic notebook.
I close my jaw again.
She’s scribbling in it. No quill, no ink, no nothing. Just… making the symbols appear. I notice a pattern, and use a quick visual zoom spell to get a closer look without interrupting her. It’s…
I watch her add ice elements to the basic matrix of a fire spell.
She’s designing a spell to crack the egg.
I… I close my jaw. And use a quick spell to help keep it closed.
She adds time elements to the spell. I… I have no clue what she’s trying to do. I cancel my zoom spell, check that my jaw muscles aren’t all slackened, and cancel that spell as well.
“Alright,” she states suddenly. The wireframe disappears completely, and she turns to the egg, before her horn glows a painfully bright white, rather than its normal gold.
It’s a strange feeling, that spell. It’s almost like the space inside her spell zone is both hot and cold, both young and old, both light and dark. It’s…
My jaw is hanging again. I close it.
The light dies down.
“There!” she states, while my eyes are still adjusting to the dimness. Interesting, my eyes adjust many times faster than standard pony eyes, thanks to my ties to my Sun. “The first ever naturally hatched impossible egg!”
True to her word, when my eyes finish adjusting, there’s another dragon sitting in the nest on the cart, egg fragments surrounding it.
I… I let my jaw hang for a second. It’s been trying to so many times today, I feel like I should let it be. Maybe it’ll stay up this time? I close it, contemplating reenacting my spell… but I can’t do that now, as we’re fast approaching my speaking time.
“Oh, and side effects, apparently.” She shrugs her wings, before folding them, looking at the drake. “Probably comes from cheating like that.”
… I should have enacted the spell.
“P-Pass,” one of the examiners states. “Definitely pass. How did you do that?”
She shrugs. “It’s pretty unique,” she states. “Dad can’t do it.”
I glance at her flank… is that a harp? I glance at my examiners’ papers. It’s a lyre, and she already had it when she came in. I must not have noticed, earlier.
“Let’s not share that, please,” I state, stepping forwards. “Congratulations, Lyra, on passing the entrance exam, ascending, and hatching yourself a new friend!”
She glances at the drake. “I can keep him?”
I blink. “Uh, yes. How would you like to, as a fellow Princess, be my personal student?”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “Do the wings make me a princess or something?”
… She’s certainly not as timid as most ponies, I’ll give her that. My hopes of a yes are going down, though. “Yes, actually,” I inform her. “By Equestrian law, all Alicorns are automatically Princesses.”
She nods. “Definitely don’t want to be sharing my cheat, then.”
I nod in turn. “So, would you like to be my personal student?”
She looks at me. Gazes into my eyes for what feels like forever, though I know it’s only about ten seconds. As the seconds tick past, my hope trickles away.
“What’s the catch?” she asks.
“The… catch.”
She nods. “Yes. When something sounds too good to be true, that’s usually because it is. So, where’s the catch?”
“Uh…”
She sighs. “How would it be different if I said yes?”
I blink. “Well, um, aside from additional training with me, you’d have free access to the Castle Library, Banquet Hall, um… and a nice room to sleep in?” Probably doesn’t help I’ve never thought much of it. My castle staff always takes care of those details for me.
“I’m gonna have to say no, then,” she states. Her words echo around in my brain. I can already hear myself making some unfair demand, feel Cadence charging the Elements of Harmony to banish me to the moon.
… Not that we know where they are, anymore.
Which means there’d be a battle between us. I’d probably win, with experience on my side- then…
No. I cannot allow that to happen; I’ll step down myself if I have to. If she so much as asks.
Might as well step down now. I…
I need to stay strong. … Get strong again, before I officially step down from the throne.
I teleport to my quarters, collapse onto my pillows. At this rate, I won’t even be able to welcome my sister back.
“I’m gonna have to say no, then.”
I drop my jaw, along with all three examiners and my husband. How could Lyra refuse such an honor? And…
Celestia’s jaw drops. Not for the first time, either- she dropped it several times while Lyra was working on the egg.
Her wings also droop. Her expression looks hurt, somehow, as if Lyra had just… oh, I don’t know. Taken the country from her.
She had looked surprised, but not like this, when she seemed to realize Lyra had gained wings. I was surprised by that- and it looks like Lyra wasn’t expecting it either, though she seems too nonchalant about it to have not considered it as a possibility.
Celestia starts to turn away from Lyra, and suddenly vanishes in a flash of light.
“I…” Lyra blinks, sighs, and looks at the examiners. “That never happened, right?”
They nod. “Agreed,” they state. “She just, uh…”
“Was needed elsewhere,” Lyra states.
They nod. “Yes. And we were not privy to the details.”
“Alright. So, what’s next- and, possibly more importantly, is Twilight still here?”
As it turns out, leaving the room with her newly-hatched dragon is next. She passed the exam.
Also, Twilight is still here. Apparently, she had wanted to stick around, find out how Lyra had done.
… And show off her wings. Apparently, she ascended to. Lyra quickly put an end to that, though, by flaring her own wings.
“Me too,” she states. “And apparently, the wings make the Princess.”
“No!” Twilight insists. “I’m not a Princess! I’m not old enough!”
So Lyra nods. “Alright.” Then her horn glows like Celestia’s Sun again- and when it goes back down, both fillies are unicorns again. “There. We don’t have to be Princesses if we don’t want to be.”
Twilight spends a second checking her side for wings, before hugging Lyra. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou! … Um, whatever you did is reversible, right?”
A Pegasus Guard in the corner blinks a couple times. “Wait. Did she just reverse an ascension?”
I nod slowly. “Two of them, I think.”
Lyra smiles, glancing at the Guard. “Yes.” Then she looks back down at Twilight. “And yes, it’s completely reversible. Or, unreverse-able, since it is in itself a reversal.” She glances up at Twilight’s parents, then back down at Twilight. “I’m guessing everypony else is going to ascend as well, and want the reversal too. Plus, I kinda want to get everypony together- here- after the exams. That work?” Back up at Twilight’s parents, who nod.
So we wait.
While we wait, she looks up at the Guard again. “Any chance stories of our ascensions could be suppressed, and princess-hood voided? None of us are ready for that level of power, responsibility, or… Well, noble-fighting. And re-ascending, since we’ve already done it once, should be pretty easy.”
“Uh…” The Guard utters. “I’d have to consult with my Sergeant… and possibly Celestia too… on that one,” he eventually states. “I don’t think Equestrian law considers un-ascensions.”
Shrug. “Then could you do that, please?” She glances down at Twilight. “And even if the un-ascension doesn’t void Princess status, I’d still like to suppress knowledge of such status until such time as we’re ready to handle it.”
He snaps a hoof to his forehead. “Right away, Princess!”
As he leaves the room, Twilight lets out a little gasp. “What-! Still a princess!?”
Lyra sighs. “He said he didn’t know,” she says, “so he’s playing it safe. I imagine we’ll hear back on the matter shortly- and even if we are still Princesses, if we’re able to suppress such knowledge, we won’t effectively be Princesses, and therefore won’t have anypony gunning for us… or asking us anything better answered by Celestia.”
Silence holds for a few seconds.
“Hey, mom?” Lyra asks, looking up at me.
I raise my eyebrows, returning her look. “Yes?”
“Do you think you could teach us to fly?”
I blink. “Uhh…”
“Of course, we can do it in secret. I can think of a few spells that would keep anypony from noticing. And of course, whenever we do do a full Princess reveal, I’d like to drive ponies crazy by being a good flier already.” Smile. “And I’d rather not go disguised to a flight school up in Cloudsdale.”
“Sure,” I eventually state. “I can try. But only if you take care of your wings regularly, too!”
“Even though we won’t have them very much?”
I shrug. “So make ‘em appear for proper care.”
She smiles wide. “Thank you!”
I walk out of the examination room in somewhat of a trance. I don’t have a clue how I did much of what I did- or even what half of it was.
But that doesn’t really matter- what matters is that I knew what I was doing at the time. A couple of them, if I recall correctly, I was unsure of. But I passed, so I’m okay.
The last one was the hardest. It was also a shot in the dark- and, to be honest, the first time I’ve ever successfully used Lyra’s strange booster spell. And…
It may have been successful, in that the egg popped right open when I blew power at it in what I hoped was a hatch-inducing manner, but I must have gotten it wrong. I’ve seen her use it a few times- she doesn’t often need it- but it never grafted wings onto her back.
It did mine. According to the examiners, that means I’m now a princess. An official princess, like Celestia.
But Twilight isn’t one. I shake my head slightly, adjusting my wings to keep the sleeping newborn dragon balanced on my back. She’ll always be our Princess.
… until she grows old and dies, while I don’t. Unless we can find a way to duplicate whatever I did, which I don’t doubt she and Lyra will be able to do, eventually.
The Guards are guiding me into a side room. My parents didn’t come with me; they’re both working all the time, and neither of them could make it. Neither will be able to come pick me up until long after dark, so they currently expect me to walk home alone, or perhaps request an escort from the staff or perhaps the Royal Guard.
That would have been a very, very difficult escort to get- but now that I’m a princess, they’ll probably do it as a matter of course.
I push the door open with my magic, stepping into the side room, and scan it quickly. All four of the other Crusaders are here, with their parents. And, if I’m not mistaken…
Lyra looks over from what looks like a card game of some kind they’re playing on the round table in the middle of the room. “Awesome,” she states. “We’re all here, and we’re all princesses.”
I blink. All… No. All four of the others are unicorns. “What?” I ask.
Lyra shrugs. “Turns out un-ascension doesn’t void the Princess status, but we can pretend we’re not Princesses until we’re ready for the responsibilities of the same. You want to join us in that not-princess-yet effort?”
I blink. “Uh, yes? You know I don’t take publicity well.”
“Alright,” Lyra states, then her horn glows… like Celestia’s sun. Or is it like mine did, when I cracked open the egg?
In any case, a moment later, my wings have disappeared again, and I let out a breath. “So, with all the ponies here…”
Lyra shakes her head. “The Guards won’t be telling anypony, nor acting like anything’s different, for anypony to see, at least. And the examiners have been notified of the situation too- right, Lieutenant?” She glances up, at the same time, to a Guard entering behind me.
He nods. “Yes ma’am. We’ve been able to identify every pony that saw any of you as Alicorns, including the examiners; all are sworn to secrecy. None are nobles, either.”
“Awesome, thank you.”
“But what about Celestia?”
“Celestia?” Lyra asks, then smiles, and chuckles. “Last she saw, me and Twilight were Alicorns, but she left before anypony else had the chance to ascend. I was actually planning on heading to the Castle next, to inform her of the situation- and possibly to accept her offer, as a group.”
“Her offer?” I ask.
“Yes,” Lyra smiles. “Celestia offered to let us be her personal students, before she had to go; Twilight panicked at the Princess status and fled; I refused, and was about to finish the sentence by adding a condition- not without the rest of you- when she left.”
“That’s… not quite how I remember that going,” Lyra’s mom states.
Lyra snorts, and rolls her eyes. “Alright, alright, it was actually two separate sentences. But the fact is, she didn’t stick around long enough for me to explain my answer. In any case, given that we’re all princesses now, I figure studying under her is probably a very good idea- I don’t expect we’ll be able to keep a lid on things for forever. Besides, Celestia has been ruling alone for a thousand years.” She smiles. “I daresay she’s long overdue for some company.”
“And friends,” Twilight states.
Glamour nods with me. “And friends,” we agree.
“What would it mean?” I ask. “For us, that is.”
Twilight shrugs.
Lyra must have asked. “For starters, we’d get extra, personalized magic lessons from Princess Celestia herself- in theory. She’s only ever had one personal student at a time before, so with five, it might be harder for her to customize everything so much… but that’s what we would be there for. Then, we’d probably have lessons in how to behave as a Princess, which we’re definitely going to want before the grand revelation.
“And last- that I know- but not least, we’d be living in the castle. Free access to the Castle Library, Laboratories, Ballrooms, you name it.” She glances at the parents spaced around the room; their attention has been drawn. “I don’t know if she’ll invite our parents along, but I’m sure we can work something out. So,” she glances at all of us, “is that something we want to do?”
All four of us nod. After they- mostly Lyra- showed me exactly what I could do with the bony spire sticking out of my forehead, and how amazingly easy it is, I’ve enjoyed studying magic with her and Twilight. So, to my understanding, have the other two.
“Awesome,” Lyra states. “Next,” she turns to the parents, “is that something our parents are okay with?”
All eight parents present speak in perfect unison. “Absolutely!” Unless I miss my guess, more than one of them also start giggling or chuckling.
I shrug. “Probably?”
Lyra frowns. “How confident are you?”
“Pretty confident,” I state.
She smiles. “Confident enough to ask Celestia first?”
I take a second, then nod.
“Then let’s go do that.” She glances at the parents. “That okay?”
“Absolutely!”
She nods. “Who wants to come with?”
They blink.
“Uh, wouldn’t it be better for you to ask her without us present?” Vinyl’s mom asks.
Lyra nods. “And the Guards might not want to let you that far in on a moment’s notice… But you can still come as far as they’re willing to let you.” She smiles at the rest of us. “Besides, it’s a long walk, and I’d rather not do that alone.”
Several of the parents nod- no, all of them, just not synchronized. “Sure, we’ll come.”
Twilight’s dad raises a hoof. “Wouldn’t it be easier to ask for a Royal Guard escort?”
“Well of course,” Lyra states. “But to ask for one of those, we’d have to reveal ourselves to the general public. Besides, we’ve technically already got that- they’ll just be under cover.”
The lieutenant by the door bows his head.
“True.”
I take three long, deep breaths. It’s been at least a couple hours since I fled the exam room.
All I’ve been able to do is think up possible evil-version names, like Luna’s Nightmare Moon.
I’ve got everything from Dayscare Bright to the Solar Destroyer. And everything in between, and there’s probably even a few that aren’t in that range. I’ve even got the Mundane Lamp.
All scribbled down three pages of parchment. With tick marks, for how often I thought of each one.
Daybreaker seems to be popular.
I… I can’t go on. I’ve been in meltdown for the last few hours. If I can’t get over it soon, I’m going to have to inform Cadence in private… and just disappear. I won’t even be able to repeat my question to Twilight after she’s had time to adjust.
I let out a small yelp, jumping somewhat, when somepony knocks on the door. I steel up my voice as much as I can. “Who is it?” I call.
It’s one of the Guards that answers, through the door. “The Cutie Mark Crusaders wish to meet with you, Princess.” He sounds amazed.
“The-?” I begin, before stopping myself. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, of course. That’s what Twilight and Lyra’s team is called. Maybe Lyra talked to Twilight, and the latter decided to say yes. Maybe both of them talked to the rest of the Crusaders, and the two decided to seek my counsel, as new Princesses- and brought their friends along, for some reason. In any case, they’re giving me a chance to save face and recover- and there’s no way I’m going to blow it without a fight.
“Just a second!” I cry out, lighting my magic to snatch my brush off my dresser.
“Uh, they’re in the waiting room,” he states. “We didn’t know where you were. Shall I go get them?”
I blink. So, they’re in the waiting room, where ponies come before they come in to meet me? Wouldn’t that be full of nobles and the like at this hour? And incredibly dangerous for the newly-minted Princesses to be in? I… I hope they’re being smart about it. Maybe they chased everypony else out? That’d make waves among the nobles- but being princesses, they have the authority to do that, however damaging such an act will be. Unfortunately, there’s no going back now. “Uh, no,” I state. “I’ll see them in the Throne Room in, oh…” I look at myself in the mirror, gauge my appearance. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Roger. We’ll be ready.” I can almost hear his salute through the closed door, before he returns back down the hall.
I take a deep breath, and mutter to myself. “Come on, Celestia. You’re a Princess, you can do this.”
That doesn’t help.
“They’re asking to talk to you,” I tell the mirror. “They have to have a reason for that- my Guards won’t interrupt me even for Cadence, unless she specifically requests it. What reason could they have, but…”
I sigh. That’s more like it. My muscles are still knotted up real bad, and my mane’s still a mess, but I’m getting myself under control. The muscles I can hide, until I get my royal masseuse to give me a backrub later tonight. If it’s good news, that is. Everything else I can clean up.
“But to form a long-term relationship,” I tell the mirror. “Not as my personal student, but close enough they can learn the details of being a princess. And that will be enough to keep me stable until I can find a new student.” I take a deep breath, and throttle my manebrush through my mane once again. I will greet them as the reigning monarch, nothing less.
I will live through this. I will make it work.
I will welcome my sister back to rule beside me, when the time comes.
… if I am able to heal the hurt. Revert the Nightmare.
I’ll find a way. Even if I have to beat her in combat.
She is more experienced than me… but I have preparation on my side. She is alone, in her Moon; I am not. Cadence is already ready for her return; now I have two more young princesses. By the time she escapes her prison, they will be able to perform support roles. I don’t think I have time to give them any real combat training.
… Though with Lyra’s magical ingenuity, she might be able to fight alongside us anyways.
I check the clock before I teleport to the throne room. My preparations took about ten minutes; I once again look as immaculate as I always have. The Guards are present, lined up neatly; it looks like they’ve chosen to treat the two fillies to the decorum of a state visit… Wait. A detail catches my attention; not one Guard in the entire room is below the rank of Sergeant.
Something isn’t right. Much of the rows, on state visits, are often Privates, freeing the Officers and senior Enlisted to other, more active duties. Maybe they requested a level of secrecy Privates aren’t trusted with?
As much as the composition doesn’t make sense, the lineup does. The one thing we don’t want from a newly-ascended filly-princess is non-alignment with the Crown. Especially when there’s enough of them to reduce the entire political process to a standstill; any Alicorn’s vote counts the same, regardless of how old- or young- they are. Even if Cadence teams up with me, we won’t be able to outvote them.
I can only hope to win them to our side. To get close enough they trust me, so I can teach them how to avoid being conned into something by the nobles.
I can only hope they haven’t already been conned into something by the nobles.
Oh, how I wish I could just wipe the lot of them from the face of Equestria. Unfortunately, I keep them around to help me balance the country. I use them to help me decide which laws are good, and which ones are not.
I almost facehoof, but manage not to twitch. If I’m going to teach them how to Princess… By my understanding, they’re loners. That means that how to Princess is going to involve having a student, which means…
Well, they’re not old enough to have students yet. That’ll have to wait- but I’m going to want to introduce them to the idea as quickly as possible. Have them mentor other students at my school, maybe. They’re still young, the world won’t look down on them for doing that.
The door cracks open, and Captain Storm Tide steps in. He glances up at the throne, where I am, before saluting. “We’re all ready, Princess. We’re currently on Confidential level security.”
I nod; that explains the composition of the ranks, but not why. “That should be enough,” I state. “Send them in.” I pray they will explain the security themselves, rather than waiting for me to ask the Guards later. Or pry it out of them.
“Yes Princess.” He glances back out the open door, nods briefly, and takes up his position in line. A guard outside the throne room closes it.
About a minute passes, then a knock resounds across the throne room. A moment later, the doors swing open, revealing… No, something’s not adding up. Only Twilight and Lyra ascended and hatched their dragons, yet I’m counting one, two, three, four, five little bits of green and purple on their backs. And I’m having difficulty telling which ones are the Princesses as they start the walk down the carpet towards me. The frontal silhouette of a pegasus- or an alicorn- is wider than that of a unicorn; I should be able to tell, even from this distance, which ones have wings.
This confuses me, briefly. Perhaps the other three Crusaders are wearing false wings?
Or is it possible that the ascensions weren’t restricted to the two known prodigies? On second thought, Lyra used a dedicated spell to access Alicorn-level powers… It’s entirely possible the others could have studied hard enough to learn that same spell, and all accidentally ascended as well.
Such would also explain the purple and green on each of their backs. If they all accessed that level of powers, it’s entirely possible- even probable- that they all also managed to hatch their eggs.
Which is supposed to be an impossible test.
… I wonder how many carts were destroyed, and how many were able to be reused.
I am tempted to light up a visual zoom spell, like the one I used during Lyra’s exam, but that would be unbecoming of a Princess- and, especially if they notice it, possibly offensive. I discreetly take a deep breath, preparing myself to use all of my skill to gain as much as possible from this meeting.
This is my last chance. My…
Ugh. Yes, this is my last chance. I must have had three others in that testing room, all botched; they’re now close enough I can see their wings clearly enough to be certain. Five princesses.
This is going to be a pain.
And yes, I’m right. Each of the purple and green objects are, in fact, baby dragons.
I… I don’t know what to do. I spend the rest of their walk racking my brain, trying to come up with something, but by the time they bow down before me, I don’t have anything.
I suppose I’ll just have to wing it.
… It does look like they still respect me as their ruler. So, I still have that, at least. “Rise,” I state.
They rise. I spot more than one false-straight face; four of them are clearly nervous. That last one?
Lyra.
It’s almost like she knows what’s coming- or doesn’t care. I really hope it’s the second, because she does look happy, like… Oh, like everything is going to plan.
I wonder what that plan is.
Waiting for me to speak doesn’t seem to be on it.
Leaving me sane, however… also doesn’t seem to be on it. Lyra’s horn glows briefly, and their wings all disappear.
“Princess Celestia,” Lyra begins, bowing again- though only briefly. “During the time after you were summoned away, Vinyl Scratch, Glamour Strings, and Blue Chime all successfully passed the exam, hatched the egg, and ascended.” She pauses for a second, during which my gaze switches quickly over the three named fillies- the last of which is visibly shuddering. The dragon seems not to mind, sleeping soundly on her back.
Lyra continues. “It is my understanding that this makes each and every one of us, irrevocably, a Princess; however, it is not our belief that we are ready to handle the responsibilities and dangers of such. As such, we have reversed our ascensions, and requested all news of such be contained, until such time as we are ready. The Royal Guard has helped immensely in this respect, including staging this meeting as an audience with us that you requested when an urgent matter called you away from the Examination Hall prior to our availability for any such conversation. To my understanding, all present are cleared to know, and keep secret, the truth.
“In light of all this, and the offers you made to myself and Twilight Sparkle before the summons, we saw fit to make a similar offer in return, as thus: Would you be willing to take all five of us on as personal students simultaneously, either indirectly, as through each other, or directly?”
There is only one reason my jaw isn’t hanging, and that’s because I spent a minute to craft a targeted, stealthy spell to that end before teleporting to the throne room.
One: Am I really being offered what I have been looking for, on a silver platter?
Two: Why do the others look so nervous- are they afraid of refusal or something?
Three: Did they really come up with a cover story for me, and enact it fast enough to be convincing?
Four: Where did Lyra learn to talk like that?
Five: Did they really figure out how to un-ascend and re-ascend a pony that fast?
Six: Did they really come up with a cover story for themselves, and enact it fast enough to be convincing?
Seven: … I feel like there should be a seventh question, but I’m having difficulty coming up with one.
They’re all waiting patiently for me to decide. Lyra’s eyebrow goes up slightly- am I showing my surprise? My jaw is not hanging… Shoot, it’s the motionlessness!
Oh- I just realized the seventh question to be asked: Can I handle multiple students at once? … No. I tried two at a time, once; that decade was a roller coaster ride for Equestria. I had no time to rule.
I take one last breath, open my mouth, and, with one, last word…
The throne room seems to skew sideways before I get it out, and everything goes dark.