The Stormmaster

Flecks of snow blew in through twenty open windows, but still the air in the hall was oppressively hot. It seemed that everypony in Cloudsdale had packed themselves into the building; their cacophonous heartbeats pounded on the eardrums of one unassuming blue mare standing at the back of the room.

Cotton Jenny had finished her dress just in time, and so far she had heard nothing but good things about it. The skirt was indeed white, with a hem of blue swastikas that matched her coat. Its backless design left her wings free, and the wide blue collar sat comfortably on her neck like a soft silk scarf. The swastikas on the collar took the form of silver vines covered in tiny five-petal flowers. The pattern grew denser towards her head, becoming an intricate lattice just beneath her chin.

Her shoes were modeled after Princess Luna’s silver slippers. Two weeks after the fact, the farrier now standing in the fifth row was still baffled that she did not ask for the gold ones that were so popular in Canterlot.

“Welcome, citizens of Cloudsdale!”

Princess Luna’s deafening voice silenced all others in the room. Snowdrop flattened her ears against her head as many others did the same. Most unfortunate were the ponies in the first dozen rows.

“In the last year you have endured many changes. Equestria is still in the process rebuilding, but do not think that there has been no progress. Indeed, the outflow of great weatherkeepers from this city should be proof enough of the kingdom’s growth! Yours is the only weather team training program in all of Equestria, and your faithful stewardship of Canterlot’s rain has given us an unprecedented harvest. We will all eat well this winter!

“And that brings us to the matter at hand. I am familiar with Cloudsdale’s long history of military excellence. This city has provided the finest royal guards for Canterlot, and I look forward to seeing your auxiliaries later today. But to have great soldiers is not enough. You have a city full of the best soldiers, but why is it that pegasi from Canterlot must be sent to repair your buildings and supplement your weather team? Why is it that a company of well-provisioned lancers was sent to city hall when a plumber was needed? You know the answer, of course, so I will not embarrass you further.

“You have enough ponies, Cloudsdale, so let us not talk about temporary workers or moving the reserves. What you need is leadership. Your mayor has done her best, but a mayor cannot give orders to soldiers that are not hers. You have a general, but it seems that you need more than that. Thus I am here today to bestow new authority upon one of this city’s greatest leaders.

“Come forward, Snowdrop daughter of Primrose, Captain of the Cloudsdale Weather Team!”

Snowdrop felt her mother’s wing pushing on her back. Wintergreen tugged on her left foreleg, and Sunshower managed to deliver a quick peck to her right cheek before she got out of range. All the ponies were stomping and cheering as she felt her way along. The floor had been remodeled for this occasion; small triangular nubs positioned at one-step intervals guided her through the hall, and a patch of crackling storm clouds warned her just before the stage. Her eyes did not wander as she paced through the packed hall; that part was easy for a blind pony.

Snowdrop lowered her head as she ascended the five steps onto the stage. She would not have done so had it been a private meeting; even now she could sense Princess Luna’s embarrassment. Two bat ponies were surreptitiously fanning the cloud floor with the very tips of their featherless wings, allowing Snowdrop to detect all the ponies nearby.

Princess Luna was a tall, slender figure with a unique frame. Air currents whistled around her horn and were lost completely in her fluid mane. Her legs seemed impossibly narrow from a distance, with a profile like an artist’s easel. She became a huge presence when she spoke or extended her wings, but in the meantime she was barely there at all. The first time she met the royal sisters Snowdrop thought they were both made of toothpicks.

There were four more bat ponies standing at the back of the stage. Their silver helmets rang in the light breeze, and their swords clicked and rattled at the slightest movement. She thought she could name them all, but she could not know for sure until she heard their voices and felt their faces.

Mayor Fairweather stood behind the princess. The daughter of a former general and one of Cloudsdale’s greatest architects, she had certainly lived up to great expectations. For ten years her positions had been uncontested, and rumor had it that her teenage son was looking to follow in her footsteps. Her wings were especially well-preened that day, making her entire torso shift into and out of existence in chaotic gusts of air. Snowdrop got dizzy trying to decipher the details of her attire.

Furthest from Snowdrop was Alpine Breeze. While not a daughter of Cloudsdale, her appointment as a general was ascertained after she cleared the entire west coast of pirates. The massive hat that was part of her freshly-starched dress uniform made her by far the most noticeable pony on stage.

Snowdrop bowed in earnest before the trio: one aristocrat, one hero and one ruler. What did a blind weather team captain have to offer?

“It will be the responsibility of the Stormmaster to maintain this great city. From this day forward she will work on behalf of the mayor to direct public works. Fairweather daughter of Firestorm, Mayor of Cloudsdale, do you object?”

“I do not,” the mayor said with practiced confidence. “Snowdrop, this is the city of your birth. You know its streets and its winds. Take care of it, so that we may all be prosperous.”

“I will,” Snowdrop said.

I will try.

She felt its warmth a second before the horn touched her between her eyes. A pulse of energy rippled through her body, making her tingle all over.

“The Stormmaster will have command of all soldiers within Cloudsdale, and they are to assist her in work of all types. They may not be mobilized for war, by the Stormmaster or any officer, except through royal decree from Canterlot. Alpine Breeze, Commander of the Cloudsdale Auxiliaries, do you object?”

“I do not,” Alpine Breeze replied. “Snowdrop, from this day on you will be a leader of many great soldiers. Do them no harm, and use them only for the benefit of this city your only home.”

“I will.”

I will do my best.

Another touch, and another surge of power. Snowdrop clamped her mouth shut with a sound like fracturing ice. Nopony else seemed to hear it.

“Snowdrop,” Luna said, flaring her wings. Suddenly she was everywhere; the other ponies were faint whispers next to the howling wind that danced across her feathers. “As Stormmaster of Cloudsdale you are the keeper of this city. Take good care, and continue to serve unselfishly. Your authority comes from the Two Sisters, and we can take it away if you prove to be unworthy of our trust.”

“I understand, Princess Luna.”

Once again the horn touched her face.

Snowdrop inhaled sharply. The image only lasted for a fraction of a second. Three figures stood before her, one of them markedly taller than the others. Mares, judging from the shape of their faces, though she did not figure this out until much later.

Her eyes burned as she stood up. The crowd cheered and stomped, and the cloud floor replied in deep rumbling and static shocks. She heard many familiar voices in the din. Cotton Jenny was in the seventh row, straining her old throat to be heard over the entire Cloudsdale weather team. Cirrus was having a hard time keeping track of fifteen foals; even Snowdrop had trouble distinguishing her soft voice in the crowd.

“Mommy!”

She got off the last step just in time. Wintergreen’s wings buzzed like a hummingbird, but still they did not bear his full weight as he clung to his mother’s neck.

Primrose draped one wing across her daughter’s back and tapped her shoulder.

“Snowdrop, what’s wrong?” She said.

“It’s nothing,” Snowdrop replied, blinking a few times to relieve her aching eyes. “I... hey Wintergreen, go with grandma, okay?”

The colt was all too eager to oblige. Primrose shifted her weight as he climbed onto her back and reared up with his elbows on top of her head.

“I’m a little nervous, that’s all,” Snowdrop said, and lowered her voice. “I’m just a weatherkeeper. I don’t think this will last very long, mom. I don’t know much about fixing roads and stuff like that. I mean, I know how to fix a road, but…”

“You said the same thing before you met the princesses,” Primrose interrupted, “and when Fairweather made you the weather team captain three years ago. Look how all that turned out. Don’t worry, you’ll be great. Now come on. You still like my pan bread, right?”

The one bedroom house had not changed at all since Snowdrop was born. The foal’s bed still had its spot in the corner, albeit covered with a tarp. The dinner table was still beside the counter, just big enough to accommodate four. Even the pictures on the wall (or at least the frames) hadn’t changed.

Wintergreen had inherited his mother’s taste in bread, while his father gnawed on his loaf like it was a stone.

“Mom, you have to give me the recipe,” Snowdrop said with a teasing grin.

The meal was interrupted by a knock on the door. Instead of answering, however, Primrose stopped dead in her tracks. The house grew eerily silent. Snowdrop could hear racing hearts all around her, and a familiar, powerful beat coming from the doorstep.

“Princess Luna!” Wintergreen hollered, his wings fluttering excitedly.

Snowdrop greeted the princess with a smile. She tried to bow, but was stopped by a silver-shod hoof under her chin.

“May I come in, Primrose?”

“Yes,” The mare replied snappily. “Yes… yes, by all means! Would you like some… I’m sorry, if I’d know you were coming…”

“That is quite alright, dear subject,” Princess Luna said. “’tis good to dine with peasants from time to time. Snowdrop has told me quite a lot about your barley pan bread, but I will not eat if there is not enough.”

“You can try some of mine!”

Sunshower snatched the half-eaten loaf that his son had been waving over his head. Wintergreen harrumphed and dropped his hooves heavily on the table.

“That is quite alright young Wintergreen,” Princess Luna said, following Snowdrop to the table. “I see that you like your bread very much, and you are hungrier than I.”

She placed a hoof on Snowdrop’s shoulder and nuzzled the top of her head.

“Congratulations Stormmaster,” she said. “I want you to know that you have my full support. I know you well, dear Snowdrop. I know that you will make this great city even better.”

“Thank you,” Snowdrop said, doing her very best to sound enthusiastic. “I will do my best.”

“Then there is nothing to worry about,” Princess Luna said. “I have a gift for you, but that is for another time and place.” Holding Snowdrop close by her side, the Princess addressed the others. “Do not be alarmed! I am here to celebrate with you! Let us eat together!”

Snowdrop lay on the sleeping mat with Wintergreen under her wing. Princess Luna had left after giving the colt a ride on her back around the living room. She had been drowsy for hours, but sleep eluded her.

One image filled her mind: that of three mares. It should not have shocked her so. Princess Luna was the tall one, Alpine Breeze had the big hat, and Mayor Fairweather…

She was wearing a dress.

How do I know that?

She touched her eyes, and then waved a hoof before her face. She felt the subtle, pulsating breeze on her nose; heard soft whooshes in the thin air. But even her own hoof did not appear as clearly in her mind as the three mares on the stage.