Chapters A Midsummer Night's Dream
What a delightful season summer is. Possibly, it is highly favored than all the other three seasons. Anywhere you will head to, you can never find a pony who doesn’t enjoy basking under the warmth of the bright, yellow star sitting on the clear blue sky. Summer is many things to many ponies, young and old. For the youth, summer is a time for rest and relaxation after nine long months sitting in uncomfortable wooden chairs listening to boring lectures from their instructors - summer vacation, if you will. For the old, summer is mostly a time to prepare for the autumn season. Farming families harvesting crops and fruits before the weather turns cooler.
While summer can be a time for work or play, depending on who you are, you can not deny the fact that sometime - somewhere - you will be struck in the back by Cupid’s heart-shaped arrows during this season; whether you like it or not. Yes, my little ponies. Summer was, and always will be, a season of love. Wanting love, falling in love, being lovestruck. Hearts and Hooves Day is the not the only time of the year to look forward to Cupid’s chokehold.
The tale I am about to tell you is not about two souls finding each other falling in their hooves. No, this is a story about ponies living out their lives in the city of Canterlot, the capital of Equestria. A tale full of laughter as well as heartbreak. A tale about city law, feuding faeries, eloping couples, royalty, and of course, love. A story I would like to call, A Midsummer’s Dream.
Our story begins in Canterlot Castle. Shining Armor, the Captain of the Guard and his companion, Flash Sentry, approached Princess Celestia in her grand throne room. Celestia’s natural light illuminated the line of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Shining and Flash stopped at the bottom of the throne and showed reverence.
“Now, fair Celestia,” Shining began, “our nuptial hour draws apace. Four happy days bring in another moon. But, O, methinks, how slow this old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, like to a step-dame or a dowager long withering out a young stallion's revenue.”
“Four days will quickly steep themselves in night, Shining,” Celestia said as she rolled her eyes, “Four nights will quickly dream away the time. And the new moon, like a silver bow new-bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities."
“Flash,” Shining suddenly called.
“Yes sir.”
“Stir up the Canterlot youth to merriments! Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth! Turn melancholy forth to funerals - the pale companion is not for our pomp," Shining commanded.
“Aye captain,” Flash said. He left the throne room and he and his squad spread throughout the city, bringing tidings of Shining's holy union with Celestia. Shining noticed that he and his beloved were alone in the throne room. He trotted up a few steps and stood on one knee. He held her hoof and kissed it gently.
“Celestia, I wooed thee with my sword and won thy love by doing thee injuries,” Shining sweetly said. Celestia's smile turned into a sadden grin, which earned Shining's sympathetic eyes. “But I will wed thee in another key. With pomp, with triumph, and with reveling!”
“That’s wonderful my beloved,” Celestia said. The Princess and Shining’s attention turned to the entrance of the throne room. Three familiar ponies entered the room, much to Shining’s surprise. It was Fancy Pants and his daughter Twilight Sparkle and her fiance Prince Blueblood. The other stallion he didn’t know was Time Turner.
“Happy be Shining Armor! Our renowned Captain of the Guard!” Fancy Pants declared.
“Thank you, good Fancy Pants. What's the news with thee?” Shining asked.
“Full of vexation come I, with complaint against my daughter, Twilight Sparkle,” Fancy said with agitation. “Step forth, Blueblood,” he commanded. Prince Blueblood stood proudly in Fancy’s left side. “My noble lord, this stallion hath my consent to marry her. Step forth, Time Turner,” Fancy said with venom in his voice. Time timidly stood in Fancy’s right side. “This stallion hath bewitched the bosom of my child. Thou hath given her rhymes and interchanged love-tokens with my child. Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung, with feigning voice versus feigning love, and stolen the impression of her fantasy with messengers of strong prevailment of unharden'd youth!"
Fancy turned an evil eye towards Time Turner, who shrunk as the unicorn’s scornful face loomed over him. “With cunning hast thou flinched my daughter’s heart! Turn'd her obedience to stubborn harshness! And, gracious captain, be it so she will not consent to marry with Blueblood, I beg the ancient privilege of Canterlot. As she is mine, I may dispose of her…” Twilight’s body flinched at the last part.
“What say you, Twilight?” Shining asked, “Be advised, fair maid. To you your father should be as a god. One that composed your beauties, and one to whom you are but as a form in wax by him - imprinted and within his power to leave the figure or disfigure it. Blueblood is a worth gentlecolt."
“So is Time Turner,” Twilight said.
“In himself, he is. But in this kind, wanting your father’s advice, the other must be held the worthier,” Shining reasoned.
“I would my father looked but with my eyes,” Twilight added.
“Rather your eyes must with his judgement look,” Shining continued.
“I do entreat your grace to pardon me,” Twilight said as she bowed in annoyance, “I know not by what power I am made bold, nor how it may concern my modesty. But I beseech your grace that I may know the worst that may befall me if I refuse to wed Blueblood.”
“Either to die the death or to abjure forever the society of stallions,” Shining said. Twilight looked at him in confusion at his statement.
“What…”
“Question your desires, fair Twilight,” Shining began, “Know if your youth and examine well your blood - whether if you yield not your father’s choice, enduring the livery of a nun, to live a barren sister all your life, chanting faint hymns to the cold, fruitless, moon. Withering on the virgin thorn, dying in single blessedness.”
“So I will grow and die, my captain, ere I will my virginity patent up unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke my soul consents not to give sovereignty,” Twilight said in a cold voice.
“Take time to pause, and, by the next new moon - the sealing day betwix my love and I for everlasting bond of fellowship,” Shining said. “Either prepare to die for disobedience, or wed Blueblood, or on Faust’s altar to protest for aye austerity and single life.”
“Relent, sweet Twilight-” Blueblood stepped in “- and Time Turner, yield thy crazed title to my certain right.”
“You have her father’s love, Blueblood! Let me have Twilight's! Do you marry him!" Time Turn said mockingly.
“Scornful Time Turner!” Fancy Pants blurted, “True, he hath my love, and what is mine, my love shall render him! And she is mine, and all my right of her I do estate unto Blueblood!"
“My captain,” Turner pleaded, “I am as well derived as he, as well possessed. My love is more than his. My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd, if not with vantage, as Blueblood. I am beloved by the beauteous Twilight… why should not I then prosecute my right?” Time Turner walked slowly to Blueblood’s face, both of them exchanging death glares. “Blueblood, I'll avouch it to his head, made love to Rarity and won her soul. And she, sweet lady, dotes, devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry, upon this spotted and inconstant stallion!"
“I must confess that I have heard so much, and with Blueblood thought to have spoken thereof. But being over-full of self-affairs, my mind lost it,” Shining said. “But Blueblood, come. And come, Fancy Pants, you shall come with me. I have some private schooling for you both,” Shining, Celestia, Fancy Pants, and Blueblood exited the throne room. Before they disappeared, Shining turned to Twilight one last time. “For you, fair Twilight, look you arm yourself to fit your fancies of your father's will. Or else the law of Canterlot yields you up - which by no means we may extenuate. To death, or to a vow of a single life.” When the door was shut, Time Turner and Twilight passionately embraced each other. Their lips were locked to one another for seemed like an eternity. When they released themselves, Turner saw that Twilight had a fearful look on her face.
“My love, why is your cheek so pale? Why did the roses there fade so quickly?”
“Belike for want of rain, which I could well beteem them from the tempest of my eyes,” Twilight said while she silently wept.
“Twilight, for aught I could ever read, the course of true love never runs smooth. Either it was in different blood--"
“O cross! Too high to be enthralled too low!” Twilight cried.
“Or else misgraffed in respect of years--"
“O spite! Too old to be engaged to young!” Twilight cried again.
“Or else it stood upon the choice of friends--”
“O hell! To choice love from another's eyes!” She cried once more.
“Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, war, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, making it momentany as a sound. Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, brief as the lightning collied night,” Time said.
“If true lovers have been crossed, it stands as an edict of destiny,” Twilight said somberly, “then let us teach our trial patience, because it is a customary cross, as due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs, wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers."
“A good persuasion,” Turner said. He placed a small kiss on Twilight’s forehead. Her cheeks returned to the crimson color that was once there before. “Twilight, I have a widow aunt, a dowager of great revenue. And she hath no foal - from Canterlot is her house remote seven leagues and respects me as her only son. There, gentle Twilight, may I marry thee, and to that place the sharp Canterlot law cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then, steal forth thy father's house tomorrow night. And in the wood, a league without the town, where I did meet thee once with Rarity, to do observance to a morn of May, there will I stay for thee."
“My good Time Turner, I swear by Cupid’s bow in that same place you have appointed me, tomorrow truly I will meet with thee!” Twilight exclaimed. Time Turner and Twilight proceed in their kissing session until they heard clopping hooves running in the throne room.
“Godspeed, fair Rarity!” Twilight called out, “whither away?”
“Call you me ‘fair’”, Rarity asked, “That fair again unsay. Blueblood loves your fair. Your eyes are lode-stars and your tongue's sweet as air more tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear. Sickness is catching, O, were favour so. Yours would I catch, fair Twilight, ere I go. O, teach me how you look, and with what art you sway the motion of Blueblood's heart.”
“I frown upon him, yet he still loves me,” Twilight grunted.
“ O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!,” Rarity whined.
“I give him curses, yet he gives me love,” Twilight grunted again, “the more I hate, the more he follows me.”
“The more I love, the more he hateth me!” Both Time Turner and Twilight cringed at Rarity’s whining. She is Twilight’s good friend, but in all honesty, she could make do without the excessive whining.
“Take comfort, Rarity. He no more shall see my face,” Twilight said.
“What do you mean?”
“Time Turner and myself will fly this place," Twilight said. "Before the time I did Time Turner see, seem'd Canterlot as a paradise to me. O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, that he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell!”
“Rarity, to you our minds we will unfold. Tomorrow night, when Phoebe doth behold her silver visage in the watery glass, decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, a time that lovers' flights doth still conceal, through Canterlot's gates have we devised to steal,” Time Turner added.
“And in the wood, where often you and I upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie, emptying our bosoms of their counsel of sweet,” Twilight spoke as she had instant flashbacks from their fillyhood. "There my Time Turner and myself shall meet - and thence from Canterlot turn away our eyes, to seek new friends and stranger company." Twilight then pulled Rarity into a loving hug. They stayed like that for a few minutes before letting go. “Farewell, sweet playfellow. Pray thou for us and good luck grant thee thy Blueblood.” Twilight and Time Turner both exited the palace. Rarity was now in the empty throne all to her lonesome. With nothing but her aching heart.
“How happy some o'er other some can be!,” she scornfully said. “Through Canterlot I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Blueblood thinks not so! He will not know what all but he do know! And as he errs, doting on Twilight's eyes, so I, admiring of his qualities. Things base and vile, folding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.” she walked over to nearby painting of a beautiful, young pegasus colt wiedling a bow and arrow. “And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste, wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste. And therefore is Love said to be a child, because in choice he is so oft beguiled. As waggish colts in game themselves forswear, so the boy Love is perjured every where. I will go tell him of fair Twilight's flight. Then to the wood will he tomorrow night pursue her; and for this intelligence if I have thanks, it is a dear expense. But herein mean I to enrich my pain, to have his sight thither and back again.
The white unicorn mare slowly walked out of the throne room with a small chuckle. She was determined to show her equine Adonis that she, Rarity, was worthy of entering his heart. There was no force on earth that would ever consider thwarting her plans.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
“Is all our company here?” Hoity Toity asked. He was a stallion who lived in Canterlot, who was great in knowledge of the fine art of carpentry and theatre. When Shining Armor took the Princess’ hoof in holy matrimony, he immediately wrote a play to be performed during their wedding night. This evening he had gathered his acting troupe over to his home. His troupe composed of Caramel the weaver, Carrot Cake the bellows-mender, Macintosh the tailor, Braeburn the tinker, and Soarin the joiner.
“You were best to call them generally, stallion by stallion, according to the scrip,” Caramel suggested.
Hoity Toity levitated a piece of paper over to his face and announced to his troupe, “Here is the scroll of every stallion’s name, which is though fit, through all Canterlot, to play in our interlude before the captain and the princess, on his wedding day at night.”
“First good Hoity Toity,” Caramel began, “say what the play treats on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow to a point.”
“Our play is, the most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby,” Hoity Toity declared.
“A very good piece of work, I assure you,” Caramel said, “and a merry. Now good Hoity Toity, call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.”
“Answer as I call you,” Hoity Toity said as he cleared his throat. “Caramel, the weaver.”
“Ready,” he said.
“You, Caramel, are set down for Pyramus.”
“What is Pyramus?” Caramel asked, “A lover or a tyrant?”
“A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love,” Hoity answered in a dramatic voice.
“That will ask some tears in the true performing of it,” Caramel proudly said. “If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes! I will move storms, I will condole in some measure! Yet, my chief humor is for a tyrant.” Caramel grabbed a nearby sheet and tied it around his neck, pretending it is a cape. “I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split.”
“The raging rocks
And shivering shocks
Shall break the locks
Of prison gates,
And Phibbus’ car
Shall shine from far
And make and mar
The foolish Fates.”
“That was lofty!” Caramel exclaimed, “Now name the rest of the players.”
“Carrot Cake, the bellows-mender.”
“Here, Hoity Toity,” Carrot Cake said.
“Carrot Cake, you must take Thisby on you,” Hoity Toity said.
“What is Thisby?” Carrot asked, “A wandering knight?”
“It is the mare that Pyramus must love.”
“Nay, let me not play a mare!” Carrot Cake pleaded, “I have a beard coming!”
“That’s all one,” Hoity said, “you shall play her in a mask. And you may speak as small as you will.”
“An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too,” Caramel interrupted, “I’ll speak in a monstrous little voice. ‘Thisne, Thisne; ‘Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! Thy Thisby dear, and lady dear!’ “ The other stallions howled with laughter at Caramel’s antics, but Hoity Toity was quick to bring them back to order.
“No, no, you must play Pyramus. And Carrot Cake, you Thisby.”
“Very well, proceed,” Caramel said.
“Macintosh, the tailor.”
“Here, Hoity Toity,” Macintosh said.
“Macintosh, you must play Thisby’s mother. Braeburn, the tinker.”
“Here, Hoity Toity,” Braeburn said.
“You, Pyramus’ father. Myself, Thisby’s father. Soarin, the joiner - you, the lion’s part. And I hope here is a play fitted,” a deadpan Hoity said.
“Have you the lion’s part written?” Soarin asked, “Pray you, if it be, give it to me. I am slow of study.”
“You may do it extempore, for it nothing but roaring,” Hoity replied frivolously.
“Let me play the lion too!” Caramel blurted, “I will roar, that I will do any stallion’s heart good to hear me!” Caramel crouched in all fours began to imitate a lion by creating ferocious growling and roaring sounds. Caramel’s humorous lion act had all the stallion’s sides split, except for Hoity. “I will roar, that I will make the captain say ‘Let him roar again! Let him roar again!’ “ The actors cheered and applauded Caramel, who returned the favor by bowing. But Hoity Toity once again had them return to order.
“An you should do it terribly! You might fright the princess and the mares, that they would shriek! And that were enough to hang us all!” Hoity greatly cautioned.
“That would hang us, every mother’s son,” Caramel said in a nonchalant manner. “I grant you friends, if that you should fright the mares out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us. But I will aggravate my voice so that I will roar as gently as a sucking dove.” Caramel roared once again, but this time, he sound as though he were a lion cub. This gain more laughter from the actors, even Hoity Toity managed to chuckle under his breath.
“You can play no part but Pyramus,” A stern Hoity said, “for Pyramus is a sweet-faced stallion. A proper stallion, as one shall see in a summer’s day. A most lovely gentlecolt-like stallion.”
“Very well, I will undertake it,” Caramel said.
“Masters, here are your parts,” Hoity said, “and I am to entreat you, request you and desire you, to con them by tomorrow night, and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight. There we will rehearse, for if we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with company and our devices known. In the meantime, I will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. I pray you fail me not.”
“We will meet, and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously,” Caramel said in a laughing manner, “take pains, be perfect. Adieu.”
“At the captain’s oak we meet,” Hoity declared. The mechanics acting troupe dispersed into the night and into their respective homes, readying themselves to perform Hoity’s play.
****
The crickets began their evening chorus as night had fallen into the woods of Canterlot. The bright diamonds decorated the night sky and the moon illuminated the grassy paths of the forest. Fireflies lit up like tiny flickers of green light near the trees and bushes. As the citizens of Canterlot were already in the dreamworld Morpheus had sent them at this hour, the nightly woodland spirits will still be up and about.
A fairy by the name of Fluttershy was wondering about through the forest, going nowhere in particular. She found a lone tree branch and sat upon it, looking up into the night sky. To Fluttershy, there was something about the nighttime that has a calming effect on her. While her eyes were preoccupied on the stars above, another spirit approached the same tree branch.
This creature was a draconequus, thought to be extinct for a millennia. The draconequus dashed toward Fluttershy to her eye-level, at which caused her to panic. To her surprise, he bowed to her.
“How now spirit!” the draconequus exclaimed, “whither you wander?”
“Over hill, over dale,” Fluttershy began, “thorough bush, thorough brier. Over park, over pale - thorough flood, thorough fire. I do wander everywhere, swifter than the moon’s sphere. I serve the fairy queen, to dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be, in their gold coats spots you see.” She pointed her hoof to where small flowers with yellow petals were. “Those be rubies, fairy favours, in those freckles live their savours. I must go seek some dewdrops here and hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. Farewell, thou lob of spirits - I’ll be gone. Our queen and all our elves come here anon.” As Fluttershy tried to depart from the draconequus, he instantly appeared in front of her appeared in front of her path.
“The king doth keep his revels here tonight,” he said, “Take heed the queen come not within his sight. For Sombra is passing fell and wrath, because that she as her attendant hath a lovely colt, stolen from a zebra king. And jealous Sombra would have the child knight of his train, to trace the forests wild. But she perforce witholds the loved boy, crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy.”
“Either I mistake your shape and making quite, or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite called Discord,” Fluttershy said. “Are you not that he the frights the maidens of the villagery?” she asked, “Skim milk, and sometimes labor in the quern and bootless make breathless housewife churn? Mislead night wanderers, laughing at their harm?”
“Thou speak’st right,” Discord replied, “I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest Sombra and make him smile when I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, neighing in likeness of a filly foal,” he said while chuckling. “Sometimes lurk I in a gossip’s bowl, in very likeness of a roasted crab, and when she drinks, against her lips I bob and on her wither’d dewlap pour the ale,” he said as he burst out laughing at his past antics. Fluttershy, upon listening to his misadventures, was utterly disgusted at the draconequus. Suddenly, the two spirits heard what sounding like flapping of wings mixed with marching of hooves. “Room, fairy! Here comes Sombra!” Discord said dreadfully.
“And here my mistress,” Fluttershy said in a terrified voice, “would that he were gone!”
Sombra and his followers approached from the trees and bushes of the woods, while Luna and her kin flew down from the starry night. Upon seeing each other, the two gave each other glares that would be enough to end the life of anypony.
“Ill met by moonlight, proud Luna,” Sombra said with venom in his voice.
“What, jealous Sombra?” Luna teased, “Fairies, skip hence - I have forsworn his bed and company.” As the fairies giggled at Luna’s statement, steam blew from Sombra’s nostrils.
“Tarry, rash wanton!” Sombra spat, “Am not I thy Lord?!”
“Then I must be thy lady,” Luna answered, “but I know when thou hast stolen away from fairy land. And in the shape of Corin sat all day, playing on pipes of corn and versing love to amorous Phillida.” A throne made of flowers and vines materialised from the earth below, and Luna sat herself on it. “Why art thou here? Come from the farthest steppe of Zebrica? But that, forsooth, the bouncing sun-princess, your buskin’d mistress and your warrior love, to Shining Armor must be wedded, and you come to give their bed joy and prosperity,” Luna mockingly said to Sombra. She, and her fairy maidens, laughed harshly at his expense.
“How canst thou thus for shame, Luna, glance at my credit with Celestia, knowing I know thy love for Shining?!” Sombra asked in anger, with frightening shadows and fire enveloping around him, in which the maidens hid behind Luna’s throne. “Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night from Perigena, whom he ravished?! And make him with fair Cadence break his faith, with Lotus and Aloe?!”
“These are the forgeries of jealousy!” Luna answered furiously, “And never, since the middle of summer’s spring, met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead, to dance our ringlets to the whistling wind! But with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport!” Luna climbed from her throne of vines and walked straight into the face of Sombra. “Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, as in revenge, have suck’d up from the sea contagious fogs! Which falling in the land have every pelting river made so proud that they overborne their continents!” Luna held out her hoof and a shining crystal orb materialized and hovered on her palm, projecting images of the mortal and physical realm.
“The ox hath therefore stretch’d his yoke in vain, the ploughpony lost his sweat, and the green corn hath rotted ere his youth attain’d a beard! The fold stands empty and in the drowned field, and crows are fatted with the murrion flock. The nine stallion’s morris is fill’d up with mud, and the quaint mazes in the wanton green for lack of tread are undistinguishable! The pony mortals want their winter here. No night is now with hymn or carol best. Therefore the moon, governess of floods, pale in her anger, washes all the air, that rheumatic diseases abound. And thorough this distemperature we see the seasons alter. And this same progeny of evils comes from our debate, from our dissension… we are parents of the original.”
“Do you amend it then,” Sombra snorted, “it lies in you. Why should Luna cross her Sombra? I do but beg a little zebra colt, to be my henchpony,” he demanded.
“Set your heart at rest,” Luna said irritatingly. “The fairy land buys not the colt of me. His mother was a votaress of my order,” Luna said softly, remembering the special times they had together. “And, in the spiced Zebra air, by night, full often hath she gossip’d by my side, and sat with me on Poseidon's yellow sands, marking the embarked traders on the flood. When we have laughed to see the sails conceive and grow big-bellied with the wanton wind,” she said as she began to giggle, much to Sombra’s bitter confusion. “Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait following - her womb then rich with my young squire - would imitate, and sail upon the land to fetch me trifles, and return again, as from a voyage, rich with merchandise,” Luna said while started to laugh affectionately from the past memories of her friend. Shortly, her laughter slowly gave way to sorrow.
“But she… being mortal, of that colt did die. And for her sake do I rear up her colt, and for her sake I will not part from him,” Luna said with a tone of heartache. The fairy maidens slowly surrounded her and presented to her a loving group hug. The tender moment of quiet affection almost invoke Sombra’s stomach violently churn up this evening’s meal.
“How long within this wood intend you stay?” Sombra asked.
“Perchance till after Shining’s wedding-day,” Luna answered, “If you will patiently dance in our round and see our moonlight revels, go with us. If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts,” she demanded.
“Give me that colt, and I will go with thee,” Sombra offered with a wicked smile.
“Not for thy fairy kingdom! Fairies, away! We shall chide downright, if I longer stay!” Luna, her fairy maidens, and her flowery throne slowly faded away into the trees and bushes. After they disappeared, Sombra angrily spat on the grass - anger overtaking his senses.
“Well, go thy way. Thou shalt not from this grove till I torment thee for this injury,” Sombra said bitterly. “My gentle Discord, come hither,” Sombra ordered with a low tone. Discord hesitantly, but obediently, approached by his master’s side. “Thou rememberest since once I sat upon a promontory, and heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath that rude sea grew civil at her song and certain stars shot madly from their spheres, to hear the sea-maid’s music?”
“I remember,” Discord said.
“That very time I saw, but thou couldst not, flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all armed.” He paused for a moment and closed his eyes. He sighed as he let the memories and feelings come to him. “A certain aim he took at a fair vestal throned by the west, and loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow, as it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts. But I might see a young Cupid’s fiery shaft quenched in the chaste beams of the watery moon, and imperial votaress passed on, in maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark’d I where the bolt Cupid fell - it fell upon a western flower. Before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound. Maidens call it love-in-idleness.”
A deliciously wicked smile slithered across his face and he turned his attention to Discord once again. “Fetch me that flower! The herb I shew’d thee once - the juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid will make or stallion or mare madly dote upon the next live creature that it sees. Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again ere the leviathan can swim a league,” he ordered.
“I’ll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes,” Discord replied. With a snap of his fingers, the draconequus disappeared in a flash of light. Sombra chuckled to himself for having created his most devious plan.
“Having once this juice, I’ll watch Luna when she is asleep, and drop the liquor of it in her eyes. The next thing then she waking looks upon - be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, on meddling monkey, or on busy ape - she shall pursue it with the soul of love. And ere I take this charm from off her sight, as I can take it with another herb, I’ll make her render up her page to me.” He laughed demonically into the starry-night, impatiently waiting for his plan to come together. However, he silenced himself when he heard rustling bushes complete with voices. “But who comes here? I am invisible, and I will overhear their conference.”
Sombra ignited his dark, twisted horn and released the invisibility spell upon him and his followers. As soon as his figure was no longer seen for detectable, the mortals to whom the mysterious voices belonged to appeared in the dark woods. The voices belonged to two unicorns, both male and female.
“I love thee not, therefore pursue me not,” an annoyed Blueblood spoke, “Where is Time Turner and fair Twilight? The one I’ll slay, the other slayeth me. Thou told’st me they were stolen unto this wood. And here am I, and wode within this wood, because I cannot meet my Twilight! Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more!”
“You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant!” Rarity yelled. “But yet you draw not iron, for my heart is true as steel! Leave you your power to draw, and I shall have no power to follow you.”
“Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair?” Blueblood asked with confusion mixed with temper. “Or rather, do I not in plainest truth tell you, I do not, nor cannot love you?!”
“And even for that I do love you the more,” Rarity said sweetly. She kneeled on both knees before a confused and scared Blueblood while she held her forelegs up to her chest; she also wore her best puppy-dog eyes. “I am your spaniel, Blueblood. The more you beat me, I will fawn on you. Use me but as your spaniel - spurn me, strike me, neglect me, lose me. Only give me leave, unworthy as I am, to follow you.” She crawled on all fours and sensually rubbed her head against the stallion’s foreleg. For a second, he thought he heard her whimpering like a little puppy. “What worser place can I beg in your love - and yet a place of high respect with me - than to be used as your use dog?” she asked while licking and kissing his forehoof.
“Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit. For I am sick when I do look on thee,” Blueblood said in utter disgust.
“And I am sick when I look not on you,” Rarity amorously whined.
“You do impeach your modesty too much, to the leave the city and commit yourself into the hands of one that loves you not. To trust the opportunity of night and ill counsel of a desert place with the rich worth of your virginity,” Blueblood desperately reasoned.
“Your virtue is my privilege. For that it is not night when I do see your face, therefore I think I am not in the night. Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, for you in my respect that are all the world,” said a lovestruck Rarity, “Then how can it be said I am alone, when all the world is here to look on me?”
“I’ll run from thee and hide me in the brakes, and leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts!” a red-faced Blueblood angrily yelled. Rarity finally stood firm on her four legs and gave him a cold stare.
“The wildest hath not such a heart as you,” Rarity rebuked. “Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase, the dove pursues the griffin, the mild hind makes speed to catch the tiger! Bootless speed, when the cowardice pursues and valor flies!”
“I will not stay thy questions!” Blueblood infuriatingly announced, “Let me go! Or, if thou follow me, do not believe but I shall do thee mischief in the wood!” he warned.
“Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, you do me mischief!” Rarity yelled. Her furious tongue could send chills to the most vile of creatures in the wood. “Fie, Blueblood! You wrongs do set a scandal on my sex! We cannot fight for love, as stallions may do! We should be wood and were not made to woo!”
Blueblood pretended he did not listened to Rarity’s complaints and kept walking hastily into the dark belly of the nightly forest-wood. “I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell! To die upon the hoof I love so well!” With a single, but a hard humph, she ran into the direction her idol was going. After the unicorns had disappeared, Sombra deactivated the invisibility spell, and he and his kin appeared once more.
“Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he do leave this grove, thou shalt fly him and he shall seek thy love,” Sombra said to himself. He chuckled under his breath at the very thought of Rarity running away from a love-crazed Blueblood. Out of nowhere, a flash of light became visible - Discord had returned. “Hast thou the flower there?”
“Ay, there it is,” Discord answered. He presented the flower to his master. Its petals were the color as Sombra remembered - purple, and with a weak, green stem. A nasty smile crossed the dark unicorn’s face.
“I pray thee, give it to me,” Sombra said as he snatched the flower from the draconequus hand. “I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows. Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, with sweet musk-roses and with eglantine. There sleeps Luna sometime of the night, lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight. And there the snake throws her enamll’d skin, weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in. And with the juice of this I’ll streak her eyes, and her full of hateful fantasies.”
Sombra levitated the flower slowly between him and Discord. He used his magic to take on piece of the flower off and gave it to the draconequus hands. “Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove,” he ordered Discord, “A sweet Canterlot mare is in love with a disdainful youth. Anoint his eyes, but do it when the next thing he espies may be the mare. Thou shalt know the man by the Canterlot garments he hath on. Effect it with some care, that he may prove more fond on her than she upon her love. And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.”
“Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so,” Discord replied. With another snap of his fingers he disappeared, performing the task his master set before him. Sombra and his followers faded from view and from the night - into the realm of the spirit beings.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Deep in the heart of the magnificent forest, Luna sat on her grand throne made of tree bark and covered in twisted vines. Her azure eyelids felt heavier as the moon sailed through the night-blanket sky. Her fairy followers gathered themselves around their queen under bright, pale moonlight. When all have been gathered, a tired Luna spoke to her maidens.
“Come now, a roundel and a fairy song,” she said, “Then for the third part of the minute, hence - some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, some war with reremice for their leathern wings…” she paused to release a yawn from her breath, and continued to give her speech, “... to make my small elves coats, and some keep back the clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders at our quaint spirit. Sing me now to sleep,” she yawned again, “then to your offices and let me rest.”
A mint-colored fairy levitated a lyre and assembled the other musicians and singers to perform the queen’s lullaby. After a soothing intro from the fairy with the lyre, the others joined in chorus.
You spotted snakes with double tongue,
Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen.
Newts and blindworms, do no wrong.
Come not near our fairy queen.
Philomel, with melody
Sing in our sweet lullaby.
Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby.
Never harm
Nor your spell nor charm
Come our lovely lady nigh.
So good night, with lullaby.
Weaving spiders, come not here.
Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence.
Beetles black, approach not near.
Worm nor snail, do no offense
Philomel, with melody
Sing in our sweet lullaby.
Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby.
Never harm
Nor your spell nor charm
Come our lovely lady nigh.
So good night, with lullaby.
After the music ended, the only sounds detectable to the fairy ears were the peaceful snores of their queen on her throne.
“Hence, away!” a fairy quietly alerted, “Now all is well. One aloof stand sentinel!” At that moment, the fairies dispersed to their selected stations, keeping guard for their precious queen. Unbeknownst to them, a dark figure infiltrated their fortress. King Sombra emerged from the shadows, undetected by the fairy watchers. He loomed over fairy queen while levitated the purple flower with his magic. He aimed for her shut eyelids and squeezed the enchanted liquid unto them.
“What thou seest when thou dost wake, do it for thy true love take,” he said maliciously. “Love and languish for his sake. Be it ounce or cat or bear, pard or boar with bristled hair - in thy eye that shall appear. When thou wakest, it is thy dear. Wake when some vile thing is near.” The deed was finally done, and Sombra returned to the shadows - eagerly awaiting of what the worst that will ensue toward Luna.
****
In another part of the forest, Time Turner and Twilight Sparkle spent nearly the entire night finding their way through the woodland. The woods was completely shrouded in sheer darkness that Twilight lit up her horn to illuminate the path. However, the light from her horn was not enough to clear away the blackness.
“Fair love, you faint with the wandering wood,” Time Turner with worry in his voice, “and to speak troth, I have forgot our way. We’ll rest us, Twilight, if you think it good,” he suggested, “and tarry for the comfort of the day.”
“Be it so, Time Turner,” she agreed. “Find you out a bed, for I upon this bank will rest my head.”
“One turf shall serve as a pillow for us both,” Time said. “One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.”
Twilight’s lavender cheeks turned rose red and her heart skipped a beat when she thought about herself and Time lying together on the soft grass as one, in front the gaze of the moon. “Nay, good Time Turner,” she said quickly, “for my sake, my dear - lie further off yet. Do not lie so near.”
“O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence,” Time said as he mentally wish away the crimson blush marks from his cheeks. “Love takes the meaning in love’s conference. I mean that my heart unto yours is knit so that but one heart we can make of it.” He slowly held her hoof into his and looked at her with loving eyes. “Two bosoms interchained with an oath - so then two bosoms and a single troth. Then by your side no bed room me deny. For, lying so, Twilight, I do not lie.”
Twilight cheeks switched from lavender to scarlet, although she giggled at Time’s explanation. She put her remaining forehoof over his hooves and looked at him with eyes as beautiful as the sunset. “Time Turner riddles very prettily,” she said sweetly. “Now much beshrew my manners and my pride if Twilight meant to say Time lied. But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy lie further off in equine modesty. Such separation as may well be said becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid. So far be distant. And, good night, sweet friend. Thy ne’er alter till thy sweet life end.”
“Amen to that fair prayer, say I,” Time agreed. “And then life when I end loyalty.” Time and Twilight lowered their bodies onto the separate sides of themselves, but not before Time crawled over to Twilight and kissed her on her cheek. “Sleep give thee all his rest,” he softly said.
Twilight, in return, kissed him on his cheek as well. “With half that wish the wisher’s eyes be pressed.” Morpheus, lord of the dreamrealm, sprinkled sand over their eyelids, and the two ponies fell into slumberland.
A flash of light materialized near the sleeping couple, and behold - it was Discord, the draconequus jester for King Sombra. He sat himself on a tree branch, his face having lost its light-hearted expression, and gained that of an impatient farmpony waiting for his crops to grow.
“Through the forest I have gone - But Canterlotian found I none, on whose eyes I might approve this flower’s force in stirring love,” he said frustratingly. Unexpectedly, he heard snoring noises stemming from underneath his branch. He looked down from above and saw two ponies, stallion and mare, sleeping on opposite sides of each other. “Night and silence!” he exclaimed, “Who is here? Weeds of Canterlot he doth wear! This is he my master said, despised the Canterlot maid.” He slowly descended from his tree and took a good look at the unicorn mare. Once he took note of her, his heart felt as though it were stabbed with a dagger. “And here the maiden, sleeping sound on the dank and dirty ground,” he cried with a broken heart. “Pretty soul! She durst not lie near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy,” he said in sheer loathing of the stallion next to her. He grabbed the enchanted flower and squeezed the magical droplets into the stallion’s eyelids.
“Churl, upon thy eyes I throw all the power this charm doth owe. When thou wakest, let love forbid sleep his seat on thy eyelid. So awake when I am gone, for I must go to Sombra,” he said with a mischievous tone. Following his dastardly deed for his dark unicorn master, he vanished as he appeared - with a flash of white light.
As soon as Discord teleported elsewhere, the silent night of the forest was interrupted by another pair of ponies. However, these ponies were far from in love. The pair was in the midst of their quarreling.
“Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Blueblood!” Rarity cried out.
“I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus!” he yelled.
“O, wilt thou darkling leave me?” she fearfully asked, “Do not so!”
“Stay, on thy peril! I alone will go!” Blueblood ran as far as his four legs could carry him through the belly of the woods, leaving poor Rarity behind with nowhere to go. As her would-be suitor disappeared from view, she began to breathe heavily and her panting quicken.
“Oh, I am out of breath in this fond chase! The more my prayer, the lesser my grace,” she lamented. “Happy is Twilight, wheresoe’er she lies, for she hath blessed and attractive eyes! How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears,” she said in a shaken voice, “If so, my eyes are oftener washed than hers.” A waterfall poured down from Rarity’s eyes, and she lie on the ground in anguish. “No, no, I am as ugly as a bear!” she sobbed, “For beasts that meet me run away for fear! Therefore no marvel though Blueblood do, as a monster, fly my presence thus! What wicked and dissembling glass of mine made me compare with Twilight’s sphery eyne?!” she sobbed once more. Her crying ceased when she spotted a familiar stallion lying motionless on the ground.
“But who is here?” she gasped, “Time Turner, on the ground? Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound - Time, if you live, good sir, awake!”
Rarity shook Time’s sleepy body with her forehooves until the stallion’s eyes slowly opened. However, his eyes were filled hearts when he gazed upon the mare that stood over him.
“And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake,” he said with a loving sigh. Rarity confusingly looked him as he climbed on his legs. He grabbed her right forehoof and kissed it gently, much to her surprise and shock. “Transparent Rarity!” he exclaimed, “Nature shows art that through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Where is Blueblood? Oh, how fit a word is that vile name to perish on my sword!”
“Do not say so, Time Turner,” Rarity said as she snatched her hoof from him, “Say not so. What though he love for Twilight? Lord, what though? Yet Twilight still loves you. Then be content.”
“Content with Twilight?” Time asked in disbelief, “No. I do repent the tedious minutes I with her I spent. Not Twilight but Rarity I love! Who will not change a raven for a dove? The will of stallion is by his reason swayed, and reason says you are the worthier maid!” With no time to register what he just said, a baffled Rarity found herself being held uncomfortably close to Time’s warm body. “Things growing are not ripe until their season,” he said while stroking her azure hair, “so I, being young, till now ripe not to reason. And touching now the point of pony skill, reason becomes the marshal to my will and leads me to your eyes, where I o’erlook love’s stories written in love’s richest book.”
Time Turner puckered his lips and drew them close to Rarity’s - until her white hoof formed a divide between their faces.
“Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?!” she angrily asked. Rarity pushed herself free from Time’s affectionate grip on her and gave him cold eyes that could send chills down a grown stallion’s spine. “When at your hooves did I deserve this scorn?! Is’t not enough, young colt, that I did never, nor never can, deserve a sweet look from Blueblood’s eye, but you must flout my insufficiency?!” She raised her hoof and swung it across his face with a loud, but satisfying smacking sound. On Time’s light-brown cheek, a bright red mark stood out, in which caused him great pain.
“Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, in such disdainful manner to me woo!” Rarity said flabbergasted, “But fare you well. Perforce I must confess I thought you lord of more true gentleness. Oh, that a lady of one stallion refused should of another therefore be abused!”
After her scolding on Time Turner, the white unicorn mare about-faced and marched toward the opposite direction - holding her head up in the air. However, Time Turner’s face still held the googly-eyes full of hearts. He affectionately rubbed the painful spot on his cheek where Rarity smacked him. He started to walk toward her direction, but he paused, and turned to look at the sleeping mare that was his former lover.
“She sees not Twilight - Twilight, sleep thou there,” he said darkly, “and never mayst thou come near Time Turner again! For as a surfeit of the sweetest things the deepest loathing of the stomach brings! Or as the heresies that ponies do leave are hated the most of those they decieve! So thou, my surfeit and my heresy, of all be hated, but the most of me - and all my powers, address your love and might to honor Rarity and to be her knight!” Without so much as a final farewell, the lovestruck Time Turner abandoned sleeping Twilight, and skipped merrily as a schoolfilly to search for his true lover - the beautiful Rarity.
Moments after Time Turner ventured inside the forest, Twilight shifted back and forth and her sleep. She began to make noises and muffled pleas for help. The slumbering unicorn twisted and turned on the grass, her silent pleas become loud calls.
“Help me, Time Turner, help me!” she screamed, “Do thy best to pluck this crawling serpent from my chest!” She woke herself from her nightmare and began to pant. She put her perspirating hoof to her chest, and felt her heart’s pumping increase. “Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here,” she said to herself while she caught her breath. “Time Turner, look how I do quake with fear. Methought a serpent eat my heart away, and you sat smiling at his cruel pray.”
Her statement received no response from her lover. She turned to her opposite and her lavender coat turned white with great dread when she spotted the empty patch of grass of where her special somepony used to be. “Time! What, removed? Time, lord! What, out of heart, gone? No sound, no word?” she frantically asked. He was nowhere to be found - Twilight slumped on the ground and began to weep, tears flooding her purple cheeks. “Alack, where are you?,” she cried, “Speak, an if you hear. Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear… No? Then I well perceive you all not nigh. Either death or you I’ll find immediately!” Wiping the tears from her eyes, Twilight ignited her horn with bright light and she ran through the dark forest, determined to find her lost lover.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Since King Sombra squeezed the enchanted droplets from the purple flower, nothing else seemed to disturb her from her slumber. All the night her sanctuary was quiet, her dreams uninterrupted - until a familiar group of mechanics and actors inadventurely entered her fortress. Hoity Toity and his acting troup; Caramel, Carrot Cake, Macintosh, Braeburn, and Soarin - assembled themselves near the fairy queen’s throne, completely unaware of her existence.
“Are we all met?” Caramel asked.
“Pat, pat,” Hoity answered, “and here’s a marvelous convenient place for our rehearsal,” he giddily said as he took note of his surroundings. “This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthrone-brake our tiring-house, and we will do it in action as we do it before the duke.”
“Hoity Toity,” Caramel suddenly called.
“What sayest thou, bully Caramel?”
“There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe that will never please,” Caramel said. “First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself, which the mares cannot abide. How answer you that?”
“By’r lakin, a parlous fear,” Braeburn agreed.
“I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done,” Macintosh suggested.
“Not a whit!” Caramel said, “I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue, and let the prologue seem to say we will do no harm with our swords, and the Pyramus is not killed indeed. And for the more better assurance, tell them that I, Pyramus, am not Pyramus, but Caramel the weaver. This will put them out of fear.”
“We will have such a prologue,” Hoity agreed, “and it shall be written in eight and six.”
“No, make it two more,” Caramel said, “Let it be written in eight and eight.”
“Will not the mares be afraid of the lion?” Braeburn asked.
“I fear it, I promise you,” Macintosh added.
“Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves to bring in - Faust shield us! A lion among mares is a most dreadful thing!” Caramel warned, “For there is not a more fearful wildfowl than your lion living. And we ought to look to’t.”
“Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion,” Braeburn suggested.
“Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion’s neck,” Caramel added. “And he himself must speak through, saying thus - ‘Fair ladies, I would entreat to you - not to fear, not to tremble - my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life. I am no such thing - I am a pony, as all ponies are.”
“It shall be so,” Hoity said, “But there are two hard things: that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber. For you know, Pyramus and Thisbe meet by moonlight.”
“Doth the moon shine that night we do our play?” Braeburn asked.
“A calendar! A calendar!” a panicked Caramel shouted, “Look in a almanac! Find out moonshine, find out moonshine!”
Hoity Toity takes out a little calendar he kept in his pocket. His eyes scanned it for the date of the play. His stopped once his eyes brightened at the selected date. “Yes, it doth shine that night,” he said assuredly. The other actors gave out a collective sigh of relief.
“Why then, may you leave a casement of the great chamber window where we play open,” Caramel suggested, “and the moon may shine in at the casement.”
“Ay, or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lantern, and say he comes to present the pony of Moonshine,” Hoity added, “Then, there is another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber. For Pyramus and Thisbe, says the story, meet did talk through the chink of a wall.”
“You can never bring a wall,” Braeburn said, “what say you, Caramel?”
“Some pony or other must present the wall,” Caramel answered, “and let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some roughcast about him to signify the wall. And let him hold his hooves thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus and Thisbe whisper.”
“If that may be then all is well,” Hoity agreed, “Come, sit down, every mother’s son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, you begin. When you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake - and so everypony according to his cue,” he said.
As the actors began to recite their lines for the wedding performance, the draconequus appeared from behind a tree. Without any eye spotting him, Discord spied on the stallions with a mischievous look on his face. “What hempen homespuns have we swaggered here?” he asked himself silently, “So near the cradle of the fairy queen? What, a play toward? I’ll be an auditor. An actor too, if I see cause.”
“Speak Pyramus! Thisbe, stand forth!” Hoity commanded.
Caramel cleared his throat, and with a loud voice he spoke from his script: “Thisbe, the flowers of odious savors sweet--”
“Odors, odors,” Hoity finished.
“--Odors as sweet,” Caramel continued, “So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe dear. And by and by I will thee appear. But hark! a voice!” he said dramatically, “Stay thou but here awhile.” When Caramel finished he did as he was told and hid behind the bush, leaving Carrot Cake on the stage.
“A stranger Pyramus than e’er played here,” a bemused Discord said.
“Must I speak now?” Carrot Cake asked.
“Ay, marry, you must,” Hoity answered, “For you must understand he goes but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.”
Carrot Cake took a deep breath and with a high-pitched voice he spoke from the script: “Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue, of color like the red rose on triumphant brier, most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely duke. As true as truest horse that yet would never tire. I’ll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny’s tomb.”
“Ninus’ tomb,” Hoity said as he facehoof himself, “Why, you must not speak that yet. That you answer to Pyramus! You speak all your part once, cues and all - Pyramus, enter. Your cue is past,” he said with a disgruntled sigh, “it is never tire.”
“Oh - “ Carrot Cake cleared his throat and corrected himself, “As true as truest horse that yet would never tire.”
Just as Caramel returned to the scene, something strange happened to him. His body was the same as always, but Hoity and the actors noticed that his head and face had taken a dramatic transformation.
“If I were fair, Thisbe, I were only thine,” Caramel spoke as Pyramus… through a head of a turkey.
“Oh mostrous! Oh strange! We are haunted,” Hoity frantically shouted, “Pray masters! Fly masters! Help!” Hoity and the mechanics desperately ran for their very lives and fled the stage before other unwanted supernatural occurrences could get to them. Meanwhile, a certain draconequus who bore witness to this event - and was the one responsible - bursted with laughter, unable to control his breathing or his diaphragm.
“I’ll follow you. I’ll lead you about a round - through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier,” Discord said whilst trying to calm himself down. “Sometime a horse I’ll be, sometimes a hound. A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire. And neigh, bark, grunt, roar, and burn - like horse, hound, hog, bear, and fire at every turn.” With a snap of his fingers he disappeared into the night, causing more mischief and panic while he can.
Caramel, not realizing his head is that of a turkey, found himself abandoned on stage. He grew frustrated as the minutes passed on. “I see their knavery - this is to make a fool of me, to fright me if they could,” he said to himself, “But I will not stir from this place! Do what they can! I will walk up and down here and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid!” He cleared his throat and began to sing a soft melody loudly to himself.
The ouzel cock, so black of hue
With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill
His voice entered the ears of the sleeping fairy queen, and her sparkling eyes slowly opened. As soon as Luna had awoken from her slumber, she was struck by Cupid’s love arrows and was instantly entranced by the stallion’s voice. “What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?” she asked.
The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plainsong cuckoo gray,
Whose note full many a pony doth mark
And dares not answer nay…
For indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird?
Who would give a bird the lie,
Though he cry cuckoo never so?
“I pray thee, gental mortal, sing again,” Luna admiringly said as she landed in front of a surprised Caramel. “Mine ear is much enamored of thy note. So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape,” she said again whilst her eyes scanned the stallion body with the turkey head attached. “And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me on the first view to say, to swear… I love thee.”
“Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that,” a baffled Caramel said, “and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays. The more the pity that some honest neighbors will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion,” he joked.
“Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful,” Luna affectionately commented.
“Not so, neither,” he said, “but if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.”
“Out of this wood do not desire to go!” Luna shouted using the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no! I am a spirit of no common rate! The summer still doth tend upon my state! And I do love thee! Therefore go with me! I’ll give thee fairies to attend on thee! And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep, and sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep! And I will purge thy mortal grossness so that thou shalt like an airy spirit go!”
The shivering stallion with a turkey head quickly nodded in agreement. Luna’s death-glare suddenly returned to the soft, loving eyes of a mare who had fallen in love. She tapped her hoof three times on the ground and called her fairy servants. “Pipsqueak, Featherweight, Truffle Shuffle, Spike…” The four fairies levitated from different directions and saluted to their ruler.
“Where shall we go?” they all asked.
“Be kind and courteous to this gentlecolt,” Luna commanded. She gestured toward Caramel, whom the four servants furrowed their brows at. “Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes. Feed him with apricoks and dewberries, with purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries. The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, and for night tapers crop their waxen thighs and light them at the fiery glowworms' eyes to have my love to bed and to arise. And pluck the wings from painted butterflies to fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes. Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.”
“Hail!” the four said at once.
“I cry your worships’ mercy, heartily,” Caramel began, “I beseech your worship’s name.”
“Pipsqueak,” the first fairy said.
“I shall desire you of more acquaintance, Master Pipsqueak. If I cut my hoof, I shall make bold with you. Your name, honest gentlecolt?”
“Featherweight,” the second fairy said.
“I pray you, commend me to your father and mother. Good Master Featherweight, I shall desire you of more acquaintance too - your name, I beseech you sir?”
“Truffle Shuffle,” the third fairy said.
“Good Master Shuffle, I know your patience well. That same cowardly, giantlike ox-beef hath devoured many a gentlecolt of your house,” Caramel joked. “I promise you your kindred hath my eyes water ere now. I desire you of more acquaintance, good Master Shuffle.”
“Come, wait upon him,” Luna ordered. “Lead him to my bower. The moon methinks looks with a watery eye. And then she weeps, weeps every little flower, lamenting some enforced chastity. Tie up my love’s tongue. Bring him silently.”
The queen’s servants lead Caramel to Luna special bedchamber, where she had something planned for him while the night is still young.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
King Sombra sat on his throne in his dark lair deep in the forest, waiting for Discord to return from the task he set for him. “I wonder if Luna be awaked,” he said to himself. “Then, what it was that next came in her eye,” he said with an evil chuckle, “which she must dote on in extremity.”
As he was thinking about the unfortunate soul who was the center of Luna’s affections, Discord magically appeared before him, laughing like somepony who lost their mind. Sombra sat up from his throne, anxious to hear of his servant’s progress. “Here comes my messenger!” he exclaimed. “How now, mad spirit? What night-rule now about this haunted grove?”
Discord laughed so hard that he couldn’t get the words out. Finally, he contained his amusement, then said, “My mistress… with a monster is in love!”
Sombra cocked an eyebrow, but nonetheless was interested in had happened. Discord, desperately trying to hold his laughter, recounted how a group of bumbling workponies from Canterlot gathered together near Luna’s throne to rehearse for a play for Shining’s wedding. The one named Caramel amused him the most out of all of them. When Discord finished his story, Sombra couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“This falls out better than I could devise!” he said. In the middle of his laughter he remembered something. “But hast thou yet latched the Canterlotian’s eyes with the love juice, as I bid thee do?”
“I took him sleeping - that is finished too,” Discord answered. “And the Canterlot mare by his side, that, when she waked, of force she must be eyed.”
Sombra and Discord continued to laugh at themselves until they heard voices coming from the trees. The voices sounded like a male and female bickering with each other, the female angrier than the male.
“Stand close,” Sombra said to Discord, “It’s the same pony.” Sombra and Discord hid behind the branches of the trees to witness the scene. The ponies arrived, however, Discord scratched his head. There was a white unicorn with the purple mare, instead of the brown stallion he saw before. “This is the mare, but not this stallion,” he said confusingly.
The ponies were under the tree Discord and Sombra were hiding, but were unaware of their existence. By listening to them, Discord learned that their names were Blueblood and Twilight.
“Oh, why rebuke you him that loves you so?” Blueblood asked frustratingly. “Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe!”
“Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse - for thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse!” Twilight answered. She brought her face close to Blueblood’s and glared at him enough to make him shrink a little. “If thou hast slain Time Turner in his sleep, being o’er hooves in blood, plunge in the deep and kill me too!” Her horn glowed, as though she might try to injure the stallion with her magic out of spite. “The sun was not so true unto the day as he to me! Would he have stolen away from sleeping Twilight? It cannot be but thou hast murdered him! So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim!”
“So should the murdered look, and so should I!” Blueblood spat. “Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty! Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, as yonder Celestia in her glimmering sphere!”
“What’s this to my Time Turner?” she asked angrily. Twilight aimed her horn at him, but after a few moments she let her guard down. She slumped on the ground and hid her face behind her hooves, weeping. “Blueblood, wilt thou give him me?” she begged.
“... I had rather give his carcass to my hounds,” he said coldly.
Never in her had Twilight met a cold-hearted pony like Blueblood. Something inside of her snapped, and Twilight stood upright on the grass, giving the stallion the most dreadful death glare she could give to anypony.
“Out, dog!” she screamed. “Thou drivest me past the bounds of maiden’s patience!” Intimidated by her anger, Blueblood backed up into the tree behind him, being cornered by a rage-filled Twilight. “Hast thou slain him then?” she yelled. “Henceforth be never numbered among ponies! Oh, once tell true, tell true even for my sake - durst thou have looked upon him being awake, and hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch!” she said mockingly. “Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?”
“You spend your passion on a misprised mood,” Blueblood said, trying to calm her down. “I am not guilty of Time Turner’s blood. Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.”
Twilight was silent, the anger still boiling within her. After calming herself down she said in a low voice, “I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.”
“An if I could, what should I get therefore?” he asked.
“... A privilege of never to me more. And from thy hated presence part I so. See me no more, whether he be dead or no.” With nothing else left to say, Twilight’s horn glowed, and she disappeared to parts unknown in a flash of purple light.
Now Blueblood was alone, and lost in the dark woods. His former fiance departed from him, and for the first time in his life he felt a troubling sensation in his soul. He laid on the ground underneath the tree, then was soon fast asleep.
Discord and Sombra emerged from the trees as the debacle had passed, however, all was not well with the fairy king. “What hast thou done?” he asked accusingly. “Thou hast mistaken quite, and laid the love juice on some true love’s sight! Of thy misprision must perforce ensue some true love turned, and not false turned true!”
“Then fate o’errules that,” Discord said, shrugging his shoulders. “One pony holding troth, a million fail, confounding oath on oath.”
With his dark magic, Sombra grabbed the trickster by the neck and brought him close to his own face. “About the wood go swifter than the wind,” he ordered, “and Rarity of Canterlot look thou find! All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer! With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear! By some illusion see thou bring her here! I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear!”
Sombra released Discord from his mighty grip. “I go, I go,” he stammered, “swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow!” He jumped from the tree branch and vanished in a flash of light. Sombra hovered over Blueblood’s head, squeezing drops of the love juice in his eyes. “Flower of this purple dye, hit with Cupid’s archery, sink in apple of his eye. When his love he doth espy, let her shine gloriously as Celestia in the sky. When thou wakest, if she be by, beg of her for remedy.”
Discord materialized above Sombra’s head, causing him to be frightened to the point of almost awakening Blueblood. “Captain of our fairy band, Rarity is here at hand! And the youth, mistook by me, pleading for a lover’s fee!”
With the love juice on Blueblood’s eyes, and the two ponies at close proximity, Sombra figured it was good time to hide on top of the trees again. “The noise they make will cause Blueblood to awake,” he said.
“Then will two at once woo one,” Discord commented. The two squabbling ponies stopped running under Sombra’s tree. This time there was a white unicorn mare with the brown stallion Discord saw before.
The stallion, whom Discord learned his name was Time Turner, knelt before the mare and held her hoof into his. “Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?” he asked. “Scorn and derision never come in tears. Look when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, in their nativity all truth appears.”
The mare, whose name was Rarity, snatched her hoof away in disgust. “You do advance your cunning more and more!” she said in a scornful tone. “These vows are Twilight’s. Will you give her over? Your vows to her and me, put in two scales, will even weigh, and both as light as tales!”
“I had no judgement when to her I swore.”
“Nor none, in my mind, now you give her over.”
“Blueblood loves her, and he loves not you.”
Rarity and Time Turner heard something near the tree. It sounded like a pony emerging from a long nap. She took a closer look at who it was, and to her horror it was Prince Blueblood. But when he found her standing over him, there was something different in his eyes, one that Rarity did not like. He smiled like a dumb schoolcolt, and approached Rarity with hearts in his eyes.
“O Rarity - goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!” he sang, causing her to back away. “To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? O, let me kiss this princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!”
“O spite!” she rebuke. “I see all are bent to set against me for your merriment! Can you not hate me, as I know you do, but you must join in souls to mock me too?” Rarity glared at both of them, and yelled, “You both are rivals, and love Twilight, and now both rivals, to mock Rarity!” She placed her hooves over her eyes and began to weep.
“You are unkind, Blueblood, be not so,” Time Turner pleaded. “In Twilight’s love I yield you up to my part, and your’s of Rarity to me bequeath, whom I do love, and will do till my death.”
“Never did mockers waste more idle words!” Rarity yelled.
“Time, keep thy Twilight,” Blueblood said, “I will none. If ever I loved her, all that love is gone. My heart to her but as guestwise sojourned, and now to Rarity is it home returned, there to remain.”
The three ponies turned their heads when the bushes became restless. Blueblood coward behind Rarity, fearing what would be behind the bushes. A lavender hoof poked through the leaves, then a unicorn crawled out. Everypony was relieved it was Twilight, but only for a brief moment. She shook the leaves out of her mane, then her eyes gleamed when she spotted Time Turner.
“Thou art not by mine eye, Time, found,” she said as she embraced him. “Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound! But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?”
“Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?” Time said.
Twilight gazed at him as though she had misheard him. “What love could press Time from my side?”
“Time’s love, that would not let him bide - fair Rarity, who more engilds the night than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.”
Twilight put her hooves on Turner’s cheeks, not knowing what to make of this situation. “You speak not as you think. It cannot be.”
“Lo, she is one of this confederacy!” Rarity yelled. “Now I perceive they have conjoined all three to fashion this false sport in spite of me!” Twilight let go of Turner, only to have a look of shock at Rarity’s words of accusation. “Is all the counsel that we two have shared - the sisters’ vows, the hours that we spent when we have chid the hasty-hoofed time for parting us - O, is all forgot?”
“I scorn you not,” Twilight said. “It seems that you scorn me.”
Rarity pointed her forearm at Twilight, then snorted like an angry bull. “Have you not set Turner, as in scorn, to follow me and praise my eyes and face? And made your other love, Blueblood, who even but now did spurn me with his hoof, to me goddess, nymph, divine, and rare?”
“I understand not what you mean by this,” Twilight said.
“Ay, do!” Rarity said. “Persever, counterfeit sad looks, make mouths upon me when I turn my back, wink at each other, hold the sweet jest up! This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled!”
Time Turner embraced Rarity, stroking her cheeks. “Stay, gentle Rarity,” he said, “hear my excuse - my love, my life, my soul, fair Rarity!”
“Sweet, do not scorn her so,” Twilight pleaded to Time.
Blueblood pushed Rarity out of his way, facing his rival. “If she cannot entreat, I can compel,” he said.
“Thou canst compel no more than she entreat,” Time said. “Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers.” He then pushed Blueblood out his way, kneeling before Rarity. “Rarity, I love thee, by my life I do! I swear by that which I will lose for thee, to prove him false that says I love thee not!”
“I say I love thee more than he can do,” Blueblood said, kneeling next to Turner.
Twilight latched herself onto her lover. “Time, whereto tends all this?” she cried.
“Away with you!”
As Time Turner tried to break free from Twilight’s grip, Blueblood taunted the both of them. After a moment of struggling, Turner managed to slip out of her grip, spouting even more insults.
“Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, sweet love?”
“Thy love?” Turner asked mockingly. “Out, loathed med’cine! O hated potion, hence!” He turned back to Blueblood and told him he is ready to fight him for Rarity’s love.
“I would I had your bond, for I perceive a weak bond holds you. I’ll not trust your word,” he responded.
“What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?” Turner asked. “Although I hate her, I’ll not harm her so!”
“What, can you do me greater harm than hate?” Twilight asked shockingly. “Am not I Twilight? Are you not Time Turner? I am as fair now as I was erewhile. Since night you loved me, yet since night you left me.” She began to let the tears flow from her eyes to the ground. “Why, then you left me - in earnest, shall I say?”
“Ay, by me life!” he answered proudly. “And never did desire to see thee more! Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt. Be certain, nothing truer. ‘Tis no jest that I do hate thee and love Rarity.”
Twilight slowly turned her head to Rarity, ready to set her very soul on fire. “You juggler! You cankerblossom! You thief of love! What, have you come by night and stolen my love’s heart from him?”
“Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, no touch of bashfulness?” Rarity retorted. “What, will you tear impatient answers from my gentle tongue? Fie, fie! You counterfeit, you puppet, you!”
“Puppet? Why, so!” Twilight flailed herself at Rarity, but luckily she was restrained by Time Turner. Rarity sought refuge behind Prince Blueblood as Twilight tried to release herself from Turner’s grip.
“I pray you, though you mock me, gentlecolts, let her not hurt me,” Rarity pleaded. “I was never curst. I have no gift at all in shrewishness. I am a right maid for my cowardice. Let her not strike me. You perhaps think, because she is something lower than myself, that I can match her.”
“Lower? Hark again!” Twilight screamed.
“Good Twilight, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you. Did ever ever keep your counsels, never wronged you - saved that, in love unto Blueblood, I told him of your stealth unto this wood. He followed you, for love I followed him. But he hath chid me hence and threatened me to strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too.”
Twilight ceased struggling, but the urge to strangle Rarity was still alive inside her. “And now, so you will let me quiet go, to Canterlot will I bear my folly back and follow you no further,” Rarity said, her head hung in shame. “Let me go. You see how simple and how fond I am.”
“Why, get you gone!” Twilight spat. “Who is it that hinders you?”
“A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.”
“What, with Turner?”
“With Blueblood.”
“Be not afraid, she shall not harm thee, Rarity,” Turner said.
“O, when she is angry, she is keen and shrewd,” Rarity said. “She was a vixen when she went to school. And though she be but little, she is fierce.”
Twilight could not stand being called “little” by anypony, especially from somepony who used to be her best friend. Her purple skin was turning red with fury, and was about to launch herself at Rarity, but yet again Turner had come stop her advances, unfortunately casting more insults at her.
“You are too officious in her behalf that scorns your services,” Blueblood said. “Let her alone. Speak not of Rarity, take not her part. For, if thou dost intend never so little show of love to her, thou shalt aby it.”
“Now she holds me not,” Turner said, letting go of Twilight. He marched forward until his glaring eyes were close to Blueblood’s. “Now follow, if thou darest, to try whose right, of thine or mine, is most in Rarity.”
“Follow?” Blueblood said. “Nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jowl.” The two stallions wandered off deep into the forest, leaving the mares on their own, determined to settle this dispute once and for all.
Twilight and Rarity stared down at each other, the two of them not uttering a word for one full minute. “You, mistress, all this coil is long of you,” Twilight finally said. “Nay, go not back.”
“I will not trust you,” said Rarity, “nor longer stay in your curst company. Your arms than mine are quicker for a fray. My legs are longer, though, to run away.”
With speed to match that of Hermes, Rarity managed to escape Twilight’s fury. She ran until Twilight could no longer hear her galloping hooves. Twilight’s face soften, but a lone tear flowed down her cheek. Her horn glowed, purple magic surrounding her body.
“... I am amazed and know not what to say.”
In a burst of magic she disappeared.
Sombra and Discord reappeared after hiding from the ponies. Needless to say, this has been the most distressful night of the fairy king’s life. He wrapped his hooves around Discord’s neck and shook his head back and forth. “This is thy negligence!” he roared. “Still thou mistak’st, or else commit thy knaveries willfully!”
“Believe me, king of shadows,” Discord pleaded, “I mistook. Did not you tell me I should know the pony by the Canterlot garments he had on? And so far blameless proves my enterprise.”
Sombra nearly began to throttle him, but kept his boiling temper in check. However, dragged him by his collar and brought Discord’s face close to his. Now the fairy king had a new task for him - he is to make the forest so dark and foggy that the stallions will be lost in the woods. Discord will taunt Turner in Blueblood’s voice, then egg Blueblood in Turner’s voice, so they can get away from each other until they’re exhausted and fall asleep. Sombra gave Discord a new flower and placed it in his palms.
“Then crush this herb into Turner’s eye, whose liquor hath virtuous property to take from thence all error with his might and make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. When they next wake, all this derision shall seem a dream and fruitless vision, and back to Canterlot shall the lovers wend with league whose date till death shall never end. While I in this affair do thee employ, I’ll to my queen and beg her zebra colt. And then I will her charmed eye release from monster’s view, and all things shall be at peace.”
“My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,” Discord said. “For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, and yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger, at whose approach ghosts, wandering here and there, troop home to churchyards.”
“But we are spirits of another sort,” said Sombra. “I with the morning’s love have oft made sport. But notwithstanding - haste, make no delay! We may effect this business yet ere day!”
With that, Sombra vanished in a dark flash of magic. Discord hovered between the trees and spread his arms, making the night pitch black. He made enough fog to make one’s vision blurry, all while singing:
Up and down, up and down,
I will lead them up and down.
I am feared in field and town.
Goblin, lead them up and down.
When all was done, he heard a voice nearby. “Here comes one,” he said. Discord hid in the fog unseen, then watched as Time Turner was running in circles.
“Where art thou, proud Blueblood?” he yelled, “Speak thou now!”
“Here villain,” Discord said, mimicking Blueblood in a silly voice, “drawn and ready. Where art thou?”
“I will be with thee straight!”
“Follow me, then, to plainer ground!”
Discord laughed under his breath as he watched Turner wander helplessly around the fog-covered forest in search for his rival. He spotted Prince Blueblood on the other side, also blindly running about.
“Turner! Speak again!” he yelled. “Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?”
“Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,” Discord said, mimicking Turner in a much sillier voice than before, “telling the bushes that thou lookest for wars and wilt not come?”
“Art thou there?”
“Follow my voice. We’ll try no stallionhood here,” Discord responded. He laughed while Blueblood tried to find his opponent in the fog. After leading him in circles, he returned his attention to Time Turner. He walked under a large oak tree, out of breath.
“He goes before me and still dares me on,” Turner said. “When I come where he calls, then he is gone.” He sat under the tree, feeling drowsy, eyelids heavy. “The villain is much light-hoofed than I. I followed fast, but faster he did fly, that fallen am I in dark even way, and here will rest me.” He laid himself down on the grass, slowing closing his eyes. “Come, thou gentle day,” he yawned, “for if but once thou show me thy gray light… I’ll find Blueblood… and revenge this spite.”
After Turner had fallen asleep, it was time for Discord to lead Blueblood under the same tree. “Ho, ho, ho,” he called out from the fog, “Coward! Why com’st thou not?”
“Abide me, if thou dar’st!” Blueblood answered. “For well I wot thou runn’st before me, shifting every place, and dar’st not stand nor look me in the face! Where art thou now?”
“Come hither! I am here!”
Blueblood followed Discord’s voice, which led him into the tree Turner was sleeping under, but Discord had to make sure the two were not together. The unicorn stopped on the other side, out of breath from running.
“Nay, then, thou mock’st me. “Thou shalt buy this dear, if ever I thy face by daylight see!” He laid his back on the tree bark as he felt the energy escaping from him. “Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me to measure out my length on this cold bed.” He yawned, his eyelids growing heavier. “By day’s approach… look to be visited.”
The two stallions were finally asleep on opposite sides of the tree. Discord heard another voice coming from the forest, this time more feminine. Rarity ran to the large oak tree, out of breath just as the stallions.
“O weary night, O long and tedious night!” she cried. “Abate thy hours! Shine comforts from the east, that I may back to Canterlot by daylight from these that my poor company detest! And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, steal me away from mine own company.”
Rarity’s legs became weak, and she fell on the ground like a stone, fast asleep afterward. Everything was going as planned, but Discord frowned. “Yet but three? Come one more. Two of both kinds makes up four.”
And wouldn’t he know it, he heard a fourth voice. The fourth was feminine like the mare, although her voice was filled with sorrow and tears. “Here she comes, curst and sad,” he said. “Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make poor females mad.”
Discord hid on top of the tree and watched Twilight approach the tree with tears flowing down her cheeks. “Never so weary, never so in woe,” she said. “Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers, I can no further crawl, no further go.” Her legs were working against her, so she lay flat on her stomach on the grass. “My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me till the break of day. Heavens shield Turner, if they mean a fray.”
The four lovers were all sleeping under the tree, and it was time for phase of the plan to begin. He floated circled the tree, all while chanting:
On the ground
Sleep sound.
I’ll apply
To your eye,
Gentle lover, remedy.
He released the flower Sombra had given him and squeezed some drops into Turner’s eyes.
When thou wak’st,
Thou tak’st
True delight
In the sight
Of thy former lady’s eye.
And the country proverb known,
That every stallion should take his own,
In your waking shall be shown.
Jack shall have Jill,
Naught shall go ill,
The stallion shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.
The task was completed, and Discord disappeared into the night. Hopefully by morning things will be back normal.
