Guardians

          I rubbed my eyes. I hadn't intended for this flight project to take so long. The cursed thing was due in a week, and I was still stuck on the basic maneuvers! I was expected to have one trick for complex inertia, two for wind shaping, and at least four towards streamlining, along with a wind catch for extra credit. Which, thanks to my "C-" in math, I desperately needed.

     I had sat there, in my closet-sized Study Hollow, wracking my brain for half an hour. All I had was a jettison takeoff, jump fall, loop de loop with a halfway-point stop (inertia from the fall would finish it off; I was glad I had that taken care of), and a long dive before an abrupt catch, which I would use to coast back up for a momentum display. Hopefully it would earn me extra points.

     I twirled my pencil in my magic, letting it diagram my thoughts. Maybe if I added a flip, or braked after the last rise...

     I was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," I said. Trinity Star flung the poor door open, annoyed. Her cringe widened when she saw the Study Hollow's bare wooden walls. "Ugh, you're still using this pantry of an office?" I nodded, discounting the remark. I happened to like its, um, coziness.

     "You're coming out soon, right?" She asked. "Mom wants you to help with dinner. She said I wasn't old enough for specially treated fruit. Not sure what she means, but it probably has something to do with that 'erisberry' stuff."

     I laughed a little bit. Of course Mom wanted me to handle spelled fruit. "Yeah, I'll be out in a second." Then I noticed my sister's signature pout. "No, you can't help. You remember what happened last time, right?"

     She looked confused for a moment, then remembered the dinner she'd spent as a pig. "Hehe. I forgot about that. Okay, but you have to teach me soon," she huffed. "Mom's not a witch, and she does it just fine.

     She trotted out of the Study Hollow before I registered the insult. I grimaced. Somepony would have to teach her manners soon.

     I released the pencil and stood, stretching my sore legs. Once I was satisfied, I reluctantly stepped out into the light of the hallway. A strange aroma of cookies, apples and spectrum oil identified Summer Sky's cooking.

     I chuckled, remembering the first time a friend of mine came to dinner unannounced. I'd had to explain how to smell the minute differences between raw chemical aether and rainbow juice. It was probably the first time I'd felt like a competent chef, too.

      My mother called me to the cutting board while pushing a pan of multicolored, yet-to-be-baked cupcakes to the side. I rolled my eyes. She was testing another experimental recipe, which would likely end in an explosion. I had to hand it to her, though; all the ones that didn't blow up were neighborhood-famous a week after theorization.

     As always, she threw me into work the moment my hooves were washed. "Windleaf. Dice. Now," she designated as she blitzed around the enormous pantry.

     I quickly magic-gripped a knife and diced the vegetable. I eyed the chunks, noting that it would be more decorative to leave them in rings (and according to any textbook on culinary arts I'd ever read, safer too). I waved the thought away; "Chef Summer" was pretty well known locally, and she happened to know her way around a bakery too. It would make sense that she could mesh the two together and find little bonuses.

     After a moment, she flew out of the pantry with a bag of most likely precariously-chosen ingredients. When she noticed my knife work, she grinned and swept the windleaf squares onto a hot skillet. Surprisingly, they didn't let off any sparks. Dangerous ones, anyway.

     She dumped the bag unceremoniously on the counter, picking through the semi-edible mess. After a moment, she pulled out a vial of her best vanilla extract. She set it aside for later use. She had a bottle just like it as a cutie mark, nearly hidden beneath a tattered apron.

     My mother smiled. "It's going to work this time. You just wait!"

     She nitpicked the pile for a few extra minutes, giving the windleaf time to simmer. By the time it was ready for use, Summer Skies had already chosen two boxes of etherberries, erisberries, aquava, a bar of high quality chocolate, and another vial of something I couldn't identify. The grin on her face reminded me of a mad scientist.

    I was immediately given an order to slice the fruit into wedges, which was even more dangerous than cubes. I went to work, eyeing the berries suspiciously.  Once I finished that, my mother let me leave and work on my project. The entire time, I was vaguely aware of clattering pans and a sizzling sound.

      After two hours and minimal progress, she finally called everypony into the dining room. Me, my sister, and my mother ate quickly, anxious to try the new, apparently nonexplosive dessert.

      Eventually, the cook, pulled a tray of ornate cupcakes out. The berry wedges and windleaf cubes had been arranged on top to look like precious ore. I was sure I'd seen the crystal pattern before, but I couldn't quite remember where. I ignored the thought, levitating a confection to my mouth.

    I bit down. Most of the time, cupcakes didn't quite taste fresh. While you could use the word to describe being just-baked, it was more... Ocean-y than usual. Why were these so familiar...?

     My mother smiled weakly. "I'm glad you like them. You know, I'm going to serve them at the memorial dinner, too."

     I finally recognized the decoration's shape, a mineral. Hydrostone.

     Years ago, when Trinity was still a foal, my father had been working in a hydrostone mine. Everypony knew he was great at it; even his cutie mark was a shield made of the stuff. We also knew he died doing what he loved, or at least something close.

     My unicorn father had been working when a concentrated chunk was split, creating a huge explosion. He'd held the corrupted magic back for hours, but it wore away at the walls he built in seconds. Eventually, he couldn't keep up. A few days later, they found him and brought him to the hospital, but couldn't get there fast enough. The burning aether had already reached his lungs.

     Anypony could've saved him. They could've carried him, or doubled up the spell...

     Suddenly the cupcake tasted bitter. The memorial dinner... It had felt so distant before, but now... I pushed the confection away, cringing. Summer Skies frowned. "I know, Melody. I know." I felt tears welling up.

No, I thought. Not here, with the others watching.

     I asked to be excused, and my mother nodded solemnly. Trinity just sat there, oblivious to the whole ordeal. She hadn't really known Dad.

     I skulked to my room. I couldn't do this. Not now. Maybe not ever.

     I flopped onto my bed, magically locking the door. I was alone, and I wasn't going to hurt anyone. I let the reality of the situation in, processing it, remembering. My eyes burned with tears, and I had no reason to hide them.

      It had been a while since I'd cried. Despite the horrible sadness, it at least helped to let myself feel for the first time in weeks.

      After Dad died, I'd been sent to three psychologists. One had suggested antidepressants after I started ignoring him, but they didn't work. So there were two more: A nosy one that, while progressive, made me hate shrinks, and another that let me play with the toys in her office, as long as she could watch and ask questions. Both had said I was locking myself away, and I needed to let my emotions out.

     Maybe someday, I would be able to listen to them around other ponies. But for now, I would protect Trinity. It was better if she thought I was just angry. If she saw me cry, she would think she was missing something. Which, luckily, she was.

     So I cried in the dark, all alone in my room. Nopony could hear me, as I'd soundproofed my room. Despite all the precautions, I buried my head a pillow - one extra measure. I knew the others would let me have a while alone. Besides, it wasn't the first time, and Summer would keep my sister out until I was ready.

      Or at least, I thought she would, until she came in and bothered me. If only the lock were on the inside, I thought. "Mind if I sit?" I nodded slightly, but I really wished she could just leave me...

     She sat down next to me, but allowed some space. She didn't say anything, but I knew she would start something eventually. I tried to say something, but every time I spoke I started crying again.

     After the fifth failed response, I finally just collapsed. My mother stroked my mane, trying to help me calm down, but it didn't help. I finally got fed up with it and swatted her hoof away. I knew it was cruel, but for some reason I didn't feel guilty. Like always.

      I couldn't tell when she gave up. A few minutes later, my mother pulled her hoof back. She walked away silently, locking the door. She knew I could get out on my own.

     For the next hour, I replayed the incident in my head, over and over again. I found some new way to hate myself every time.

✴

     The crowd of hundreds cheered as the starlet spiraled offstage. They requested an encore, the third one in a row. They waved glittering posters and batons with an almost impossible zeal. Impossible, of course, for anypony but Symphonic.

     Nevertheless, she was absolutely worn out. She finished her pirouettes, leaped out of sight, and struggled getting back to her hooves. Her wild fans would just have to wait.

     The young unicorn let her guards escort the way to her dressing room. Three makeup artists waited inside, who quickly dabbed the old cosmetics off. When they were sure it wouldn't smear, she shooed the professionals away. She pulled off her mask. The glorified thing stuck on her poofy, chocolate-and-strawberry colored mane a few times, but no more than expected.

     The pony underneath sighed, relishing in the cool air. In all reality, she was a small town filly named Peachy Pie, or Twinkie to her friends. But the longer she could keep the paparazzi away, the better. Besides, she really liked having an alter ego.

     She quickly slid out of her bright jumpsuit and threw on a party dress and masquerade ball visor. She only had a few moments to change before the entire cast was called out to give autographs. She dashed outside, forgetting to cover her microphone cutie mark.

     A long line of ponies wound across the venue. Every one of them was holding something for her to sign, whether the item was a T-shirt, poster, letter, or book. The entire lot of them shrieked when Peachy Pie, or rather Symphonic, appeared.

     She panicked for a moment, but quickly affirmed her wits and cast a vocal amplifying spell. "Alright, everypony, my team and I only have a little while before we pack up. So foals first!"

     A surprisingly large portion of the line split away, grumbling. Wow, the unicorn thought. I've got quite the fan base, don't I!

     She didn't let it go to her head, though. She picked up a dozen pens in her magic grip, scribbling notes on every souvenir offered. She smiled at everypony who passed, but kept herself focused.

     She didn't have time to notice ponies very much. So of course she didn't see the golden-coated stallion who recognized her cutie mark.