Prologue
Prologue:
A flurry of snow fell in fitful torrents on the ground, covering Canterlot with what seemed like snow-white icing on a cake. Thankfully it was warm indoors, thought Kilandria to herself. She shuddered at the thought of venturing into the snow-filled streets. Her flanks were splayed luxuriously on her sofa, as she continued gazing out of her window at the picturesque -albeit chilly- view.
Her thaumal-thermo regulator was set at the perfect temperature for the weather. Oh thank Celestia for the great inventor T. Sparkle, she thought. The warmth spread throughout her body, lifting the tenseness from between her wing-blades. Now all she needed was a cup of tea. Issuing forth a small amount of power from her horn, she poured herself a small cup of tea. She allowed the taste of the sweet tea linger on her taste buds, as she tentatively planned out her day. She hoped there would not be any disruptions today. Perhaps she could finally get some reading done.
Her thoughts were disrupted as she heard a loud crash from the kitchen. She made her way quickly to the kitchen to investigate the source of the disturbance. As she reached her destination, she tried her best to muffle a giggle as she was met with the sight of a mare with a pot on her head.
“Oh Flitterwings,” she sighed simply, as she helped the mare stand, lifting the pot off her head with a flick of her horn.
Thankfully, Flitterwings looked unscathed. “There was no need to help, Lady Kilandria! I was fine on my own,” she remarked in a respectful tone, humbly bowing to Kilandria. In a manner unbefitting a mare of her station, Kilandria burst out laughing.
“Lady Kilandria!” protested Flitterwings. “I’m sorry Flitterwings, it – was – just….. Too funny,” replied Kilandria as she chortled. Flitterwings herself could hardly supress a giggle at the sight of her mistress chuckling gleefully. How lucky she was to work for such a lovely mare, she thought. Canterlot nobility were well known for their condescension.
Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of a doorbell ringing, emanating throughout the tower. “Who could that be?” wondered Kilandria aloud. “I’ll get it, your grace,” said Flitterwings, flying over to greet the unexpected visitors at the door.
“Lady Kilandria!”
Too soon, Kilandria was on the ground with three young foals atop of her, all of whom had rushed in giddily and simultaneously ambushed her with hugs. “Now, my little ponies,” she said calmly, gently pushing them off. “What’s the hurry?”
They all began talking at once. “We were playing in the snow!”
“Winty threw a snowball at my eye!”
“But that was because you did it first, Sky!”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
“Nah uh.”
“Uhuh.”
“Quiet!” interjected a small dark hued pony, with a blue and black mane. She glared at her companions fiercely, who gave her piteously guilty looks in return. She cleared her throat, and began to speak to Kilandria in the most polite way she could muster.
“We were playing in the snow, Lady Kilandria, but it got too cold. So we all decided to come over to your tower! Because your tower is so toasty and warm and you have the nicest cakes and tea and you tell the best stories! Can you please tell us a story, Lady Kilandria? We’ll be on the most politest behaviour! We promise!”
With one eyebrow raised quizzically, Kilandria fixed her gaze upon the trio. “You promised?” she asked.
“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!” they chorused.
With a hearty chuckle, she replied, “Let’s go to the study then. I’ll let you all sit near the fireplace.”
“A real fireplace? Did you hear that Rainstorm? She has a real fireplace!”
Rainstorm rolled her eyes at her friend. “I know Winty, I’m not deaf.”
“Will there be cakes?” interjected a young, brown hued mare who also had Rainstorm’s black and blue mane.
“Sky! That’s not polite!” cried Winty as Rainstorm poked a hoof at Sky’s flank.
“Now, now. Play nice my little ponies.”
“Yes, Lady Kilandria,” they replied sweetly, like the gentle ponies they were raised to be.
Kilandria settled into her plush armchair, which was situated next to an ornately decorated tree. The tree was decked out in various baubles of varying sizes and colours, but the main attraction was the star atop of it, shining down the young foals as they sat on the floor, while staring at it in awe. Rainstorm tugged at Winty’s braid, and whispered, “That is the nicest star I have ever seen on top of a Hearth’s Warming tree.”
Meanwhile, Kilandria pondered on an appropriate tale to captivate her young audience with. “War and Fleece?” she muttered to herself. Too long. Harry Trotter? They’ve heard that one already.
“Cakes and tea for the young ones,” proclaimed Flitterwings as she entered the room.
The three young ponies immediately leapt up from their sedentary positions and attacked the mound of cakes stacked neatly into a pyramid, as though they hadn’t eaten in weeks. As usual, they were delicious. Flitterwings stood in a corner smiling. She had always wanted foals of her own, but had not met the right stallion yet.
“Lady Kilandria. I’ve never seen this book before.”
Kilandria snapped out of her reverie as Rainstorm approached her with a book in her mouth. She glanced at the title. “A Hearth’s Warming Carol by P. Celestia,” she read aloud. “Funny, I’ve never seen that one before either,” she exclaimed.
“Ooh! Please may you read it to us then?” the young foals chorused.
Her unbridled curiosity got the better of her. “Alright then my little ponies. I’ll read this one. But you must behave, alright?”
They nodded unanimously, proceeding to give their utmost attention to the alicorn who agreed to entertain them.
Clearing her throat, Kilandria began to read.
“In the time of Old Equestria, there lived a young mare named Twilight Sparkle……”