“Hm?” Celestia tilted her head to the side, considering the blond pegasus for a moment. “What has you in such a hurry, Miss Doo?”
“Oh, Princess, you can just call me Ditzy!” she said, then snapped a smart salute. “I’ve got a hurry—I mean, a letter for you, Princess!”
Celestia blinked in surprise as she produced a clean, light brown scroll, holding it out to her awkwardly with her teeth. Chuckling at the mailmare’s antics, she gratefully took the letter in her telekinetic grasp and gently brought it up to her eyes.
She blinked again. “‘Gentle Hearts Orphanage, Canterlot’?” she muttered aloud in surprise as she read the tag attached with the ribbon. “What could they want with me and my sister?”
“I dunno, maybe they got the address wrong?” Ditzy offered, shrugging.
Celestia turned the letter over, showing Ditzy the other side. “Unlikely, seeing as how it says right here in bold underline, ‘Yes, you did read that right’.”
“Hmm…” The mailmare muttered, shrugging her shoulders in consternation. “Sorry, Princess. I just don’t know what went wrong.”
“It may be that nothing went wrong, dear,” Celestia muttered, glancing over the letter again. “It also appears to be covered with the word URGENT in red ink. I presumed that was why you brought it to me so directly?”
“Ooh, that’s right!” Ditzy exclaimed, facehoofing. “I lost my refrain of taut again… um, I mean my pain of rot… drain of lot… pound of pot…”
“Train of thought?”
The mailmare’s face lit up with recognition. “Yes, that’s it!” she said happily, then shrugged. “I never figured out why they call it that, though; I mean, everypony knows trains only—”
“Miss Ditzy Doo?” Celestia interrupted, her voice firm yet kind. “I hate to cut this fascinating conversation short, but judging by the bulge in those saddlebags of yours, I assume that you have more deliveries to make today?”
Ditzy started, glanced at the cloth bags strapped to her sides, then gasped in surprise. “Oh, my,” she said, giving the other bewinged pony on the balcony a grateful, cross-eyed smile. “Thanks a lot, Princess! Sorry for keeping you.”
“Not at all, not at all,” Celestia replied, smiling back. “Do take care, dear, and good luck.”
“‘Kay! You too, Princess!” Ditzy said, immediately turning around in midair and haphazardly making her way back towards lower Canterlot.
Celestia then returned her attention to the letter. With an ease born out of ages of practice, she undid the bright red ribbon and gently lifted it away with her telekinesis, unfolded the scroll and brought it up to her eyes.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I apologize for any disruption that the fast delivery of this letter may have caused, but I would not have sent it were it not urgent.
I’ll get straight to the point. One of the younger fillies at our orphanage, a pegasus by the name of Hope Spring, has recently been exhibiting some sort of extremely unusual power, or ambient effect from something attached to her, I do not know for certain. She has been confirmed to have performed such feats as turning ordinary oatmeal into full bowls of ‘Wondercrunch’ cereal, complete with milk; changing a broken cabinet into a karaoke machine; and, in one case, creating a feast composed almost entirely of cupcakes out of thin air.
Nopony here has any idea what is going on, or how she is managing to effect all of these things when she’s not even a unicorn. So far, she has done nothing destructive or truly worrisome, but I felt that informing You would be the best option at this point; if only for a chance to make some sense of all this.
If You can spare the time, we would greatly appreciate it if You could arrange to meet with little Hope Spring personally, or at least ascertain whether or not these emerging powers of hers might pose a future danger.
Your loyal subject,
~ Winter Harvest, caretaker of Gentle Hearts Orphanage, Canterlot
Celestia’s brow furrowed as she finished the letter. What this pony had just described sounded eerily familiar to a certain former statue with horribly mismatched body parts and the mind of a little colt, at the best of times. She shook her head; that situation had already been dealt with, and the creature—or one-being menagerie of creatures—was happily reformed and residing over an hour away from the city, learning of the ways of Friendship from the Element of Kindness herself.
Or was he?
Celestia tapped a hoof to her chin, her eyes growing distant in thought. This simply sounded too perfect to be a simple magical epiphany or anything of the sort, and it hadn’t been that long since their last encounter with a vastly similar power.
She needed to be sure.
In the space of three seconds, she had rolled up the scroll and tucked the ribbon in with it. Celestia’s horn grew brighter for a moment, her eyes closed in concentration; and then she disappeared in a pop and a flash of light, leaving nothing on the balcony to mark her passing.
Luna knocked on the door of the orphanage, waiting for a response. But the delay wasn’t long: the door swung open, revealing an orange-coated mare, wearing square-rimmed glasses. She looked very concerned and anxious.
“Finally, you’re here, Your Royal Highness! Please, come inside,” she blurted out, not forgetting about a quick bow, though.
Luna nodded gradually. “So, you’ve got a filly with… strangeness, correct?” Asked the lunar princess, following the caretaker, who seemingly relaxed a little, prior to Luna’s presence.
“Yes. I have no idea why, or rather how she’s doing what she’s doing, but it’s really dangerous. For the others and for herself.”
The Princess of the Night said nothing. She wasn’t the type of pony who’d be spilling words. She knew their price too well.
Instead, she focused on her task. There were only brief mentions about that filly’s fits, and they didn’t sound like something dangerous. But only at first glance. Turning a bowl of oatmel hated by all the kids in the world into sweet and tasty cereal wouldn’t be something terrible… if you’d ignore one thing: it’s possible only for quite skilled unicorn mages, who have had enough practice.
But it was done by a pegasus; and a filly, no less, who probably didn’t even know how to fly yet. This was something to worry about.
Luna’s train of thoughts was interrupted by the voice of the caretaker.
“We’re here. Would you please wait a little, while I will go and talk to her? She’s always felt herself very uncomfortable among unknown ponies, and now it could be even worse.”
“Yes, We will wait until you’ll bring the filly with you.” answered the Princess, slightly annoyed by this delay. She did think that that filly is already waiting for her.
Idly, she looked about the rather mundane space she had graced with her visit. All in all, it looked to be fairly well-kept and clean; though Luna had to remember to apply the standard of a commoner to her insights when judging it.
Several colts and fillies were scattered about the wide main room in which she stood, with several of them casting nervous glances in her direction, and the much younger ones staring in awe and fascination -- and a little bit of fear, as well. Luna sighed; some things really couldn’t be helped, although she hoped that they weren’t too frightened of her.
“Don’t be afraid, my dear. The Princess just wants to talk with you. Now, be a good filly and say ‘hello’.”
Luna looked over, finding a little pegasus filly who tried to hide herself behind the caretaker. Her mane and tail were dark orange, whilst her coat was a brilliant light yellow and green.
“Here we are. Now, Your Highness, this is Hope Spring. She’s one of the nicest kids in our place,” said the caretaker with the false enthusiasm.
The awkward silence filled the hall.
“Spring, dear… please greet our guest, okay?”
The filly shyly looked at Luna and whispered on the edge of hearing:
“H-hi...”
“Greetings, child. We have arrived to this orphanage to take you with us. We would appreciate it if you would pack your things and prepare to go, immediately.”
Spring squeaked and tried to hide behind her mane.
“Uh, Princess… If I may give you an advice… you shouldn’t be too harsh with her,” carefully said the caretaker, but was interrupted with Luna’s remark:
“We need no advices. This filly is dangerous and should be taken to Canterlot Castle as soon as possible.”
“B-but why? I didn’t do anything wrong… it just happens,” Spring said suddenly, still scared at the sight of the lunar princess.
“It matters not. You will come with us…” Luna prepared to use the Royal Canterlot Voice, “NOW! AND WE WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY—”
Nopony expected the thing that happened next. Luna suddenly found a huge bubble-gum in her mouth, which prevented her from speaking. But her Voice could not been stopped that easily, so she made a huge pink bubble, which exploded with a loud BANG!
A sight of the formidable Princess of the Night with the face, covered in bubble-gum caused hysterical laughing by the all foals in the orphanage. Even the caretaker was giggling, trying to disguise it as a cough, though.
Angrily, Luna swat away the wad of gum from her mouth. “WE WILL NOT TOLERATE SUCH INSOLENCE! YOU WILL COME WITH US, IMMEDIATELY!” she yelled, taking meaningful steps towards the filly.
Spring cringed behind her mane, having a desperate desire to stop Luna from approaching her.
Luna then felt herself lurch forward as she took another step, her other limbs appearing to have suddenly lost their ability to grip the floor. She looked down in surprise, finding all four of her hooves now fitted with shock pink roller skates.
“What in the—” Luna began, but was cut off as she lost control of her motion and her legs splayed out in different directions. She desperately tried to stay still, but inertia was stronger, and soon she was moving irrevocably in a straight line past the filly, who looked on with a mixed expression of wonder and fear.
The bookshelf dead ahead unfortunately for Luna contained a huge amount of books. She crashed into it, completely destroying it and was buried under the pieces of literature.
Luna rose from the pile slowly, her face like a thundercloud as she turned towards the filly, who cringed back from her withering gaze.
“Pr...Princess, I-I didn’t mean it,” Spring stammered out. “I-It just happens… I d-didn’t mean to hurt you, or do any of those things, I swear! I just got scared, and… it just happened. Please, don’t be mad at me…”
The dark alicorn narrowed her eyes. “If you understand your powers, then you must understand the risk that they pose; to you, and to everypony else around you.”
“That’s not true!” a voice shouted out, belonging to a brown-coated colt with a red mane. “Spring only does good things; like, she turned a head of lettuce into peanut brittle, once!”
“Yeah,” another voice, this one of a filly echoed him. “She hasn’t hurt us, or been mean to us or anything. So please, don’t be mean to her, okay?”
“Golden Arch,” the caretaker muttered, “Please, remember who it is you are speaking to.”
“I apologize for this, Hope Spring,” Luna said, then shook her head. “But we simply cannot allow one with such potential to wander unchecked. We--”
“--have no interest in ‘being mean’ to you at all, my little pony,” a new voice cut in, drawing their attentions to the doorway, in which strode in a tall milk-white alicorn with a flowing rainbow mane. “We simply wish to determine whether or not you pose a danger, and if we can, teach and instruct you in how to properly control your powers.”
“Sister!” Luna said, stamping a hoof on the floor. “We had this situation under control. We do not need your help.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Celestia said. “But perhaps she does? We are not here to pull her away from her life against her will, or to lock her away in a cold and dark cell. What we must do, is evaluate her powers and potential, and see if we can offer her help or instruction on how to control it.”
The Princess of the Night flared her wings in consternation, willing an impassive expression onto her face. “As you say, sister,” she said.
“Now, then,” Celestia murmured, smiling warmly as she took a step towards the filly. “My little pony, do you know who I am?”
“Y-you are Princess Celestia. You are raising the sun at the dawn.” Spring said. Her anxious was slowly fading away, prior to Celestia’s calm and benevolent voice.
“Yes, you are correct. Now I would like to know your name. Would you mind to introduce yourself, please?”
“My name is Hope Spring. It’s really nice to meet you, Princess Celestia.”
“Sister, look...” Luna said in an urgent whisper.
Celestia noticed what was going on immediately. The filly’s colors were slowly changing. Now, her mane and tail were aqua colored, instead of dark orange and her coat had changed to light blue.
“Mind if I ask you one question, dear?” asked Celestia.
“About my… my colors changing, right?” guessed the filly, who had inspected herself already.
“Yes, about it. When do these changes actually happen? Maybe when you’re scared? Or when you’re really curious?”
“I… I think you’re right. When I’m very, very anxious or… worried... it changes. I don’t know how, though. I’m doing nothing. It just happens by itself.” the filly helplessly looked at Celestia.
“I believe you, Spring. Don’t worry, you did nothing bad to anypony.”
Luna cleared her throat pointedly, shooting the filly a level glare.
“Or rather, didn’t mean to,” the solar princess corrected herself, holding back a chuckle.
The filly smiled timidly. Now, with her anxiety finally gone, she felt herself more focused and relaxed. Especially near Princess Celestia.
“Spring… I know you don’t want to leave your home, and your friends… But I’m afraid I have to ask you to go with us. You understand very well your powers and what you’re capable of. And you should also realize the potential risk. You still can’t control your abilities, and… even if you don’t want to cause harm to anypony, it could happen. That’s why you need to leave. Don’t worry, though. When you will be able to control your powers in a proper way, you may return here. I promise you.”
Spring sighed. “I… I will come with you, Princess. But could you please let me say ‘goodbye’ to my friends? It could be a long time before I come back.”
Celestia smiled warmly. “Of course, my little pony. Go right ahead and take your time. We will wait for you outside.”
She turned to Luna and nodded towards the door.
“Sister, we don’t think that this is reasonable,” Luna said when they left the orphanage, “What if she’s just fooled us? We shouldn’t have left without her.”
“It’s called trust, Luna. Think about it; why should she believe us, if we won’t believe her?”
“It still doesn’t sound wise, to me.”
“Maybe not,” Celestia muttered, then turned and pointed to the doorway, where Spring was just walking through with a small set of saddlebags on her back. Her coat was back to its former shade of green and yellow, and her hair had returned to dark orange.
Celestia turned, smiling at Luna. “But eventually, it works every time.”
