It was the dead of night when I appeared on my daughter’s doorstep. Perhaps that’s not the most traditional time to visit family, but I’d long since developed a strong sense of caution and secrecy thanks to a long life of remaining hidden from pony society. It was likely unneeded, given that my daughter lived on a farm far away from any town, but when you’re as old as I am you find these kinds of habits are the toughest to break.
I started to knock on the door, but it swung open before I was given the opportunity. An irritated grey mare glared up at me. “Go away, mother.”
Her customary greeting hadn’t grown any easier to hear over the years. Still, I was hopeful that her age old enmity wouldn’t be enough to deny me such a simple request.
I smiled, both for emphasis and as an attempt to disarm her. “You’re looking well, Fortune.”
“It’s Cloudy, mother,” Fortune spat. “Cloudy Quartz. I’ve abandoned your culture and ways long ago. And I certainly don’t appreciate you showing up as a reminder of what I used to be. So leave me alone!”
My smile dropped. This was going to be difficult. “I simply wish to see my new granddaughters.”
“Absolutely not!” Fortune’s glare intensified at the notion. “I will not have you corrupting them with your unnaturalness. Now leave and never come back!” She made to slam the door.
“Let her in.” A gruff voice said from further in the house.
“Igneous!” My daughter shifted her glare to focus on the new source of defiance. “You know what she’s up to. It’s just like last time with Maud. Or the time before with Limestone. She’s only here because she wants to—”
“Surely 'tis naught but natural that a grandmother should see her grandfoals upon the little ones’ birth.”
Fortune opened her mouth to argue but said nothing, pondering her husband’s words. “Fine,” she eventually conceded. “You can see them.”
I sighed, relieved that Igneous’s words had managed to sway her. “Thank you, daughter.”
“But only so long as you don’t do anything to them. You look at either one of them funny and I’m throwing you out, mother.”
I winced. That last word was laced with as much venom and bile as she could muster. But still, I had a task to complete, and as long as I was on my best behaviour, she shouldn’t make good on her threat. “That’s fair,” I agreed as I stepped towards the house.
A grey hoof reached across the entrance, barring me from entering. “You are not coming into my house looking like that,” she snarled, gesturing in my general direction.
I looked down at my limbs. No, of course she wouldn’t let me in as I was. To her, my appearance was as unnatural as the sun rising under its own power. And with as much as my daughter currently craved normalcy, I shouldn’t have expected any other result. So if a minor appearance change is what it took to see my granddaughters, I was only to happy to conform to Fortune’s rules for the time being. “If that is what you wish, daughter,” I agreed, willing myself into a form more suitable to her desires.
A mere instant later, the mismatched appendages that signified those of our race were gone. In their place I had grown a complete set of four hooves, a monochrome grey coat to match my daughter’s, a brown mane and tail, and even a cutie mark of a clock. As far as outward appearances went, I looked just as my daughter did: an ordinary, unassuming earth pony. The most normal a pony could get.
My transformation complete, Fortune gave me a thorough look over. When she was finally satisfied that I would pass for a pony to all but the most discerning of magic users, she dropped her hoof and allowed me to enter her home.
An brown stallion sitting across the room glanced up from a book as I entered. “May this evening find thee well, Change.”
“Good evening, Igneous. And thank you for the help.”
Igneous shrugged. “Give me not thy thanks, for the truth demandeth none."
“How are Limestone and Maud?”
“Healthy.”
“Yes, they certainly are growing up to be perfectly normal young fillies, aren’t they?” Fortune chimed in, walking past me. “And so will Pinkamena Diane and Marble, you can rest assured of that, mother. Now come on and see them so you can hurry up and get out of my life. For good this time, if I’m lucky. Though I know I’m not.”
Doing my best to ignore my daughter’s harsh words, I followed her through the small house to a room adorned with nothing but two identical cribs, each housing its own small foal. One was turquoise gray, the other a bright pink. Both were lovely, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them sleeping there, oblivious to our entrance.
“You said their names were Marble and Pinkamena?”
“Marble Pie and Pinkamena Diane Pie, yes.” She gestured to each in turn. “Pinkamena Diane is the elder twin by seven minutes.”
“And how old are they now?”
“Sixteen days.”
“How about Maud?”
“About a year.”
“And Limestone?”
“Almost three now.”
“That’s wonderful,” I smiled. “Four beautiful daughters. You and Igneous must be very happy.”
To my amazement, Fortune smiled at me for the first time in far, far too long. “We are.”
We stood there in silence after that, mother and grandmother watching with pride as their newest family members’ tiny chests repeatedly grew and shrank as they silently breathed. Neither wanting to disturb the precious moment.
But, remembering that I was there for a reason, I eventually broke the silence. “May I hold them?” I couldn’t be sure of my suspicions just by looking at her.
Fortune looked for a moment as though she wanted to protest, but instead she carefully picked Pinkamena up and handed her to me. I graciously accepted.
The moment she was in my hooves, I could feel it. Coursing throughout her entire being was the unmistakable trace of boundless power and energy. Not the type of power that the descendants of Order typically had, but that of my kind. Of my daughter’s kind.
Pinkamena Diane Pie had the soul of a draconequus.
It was everything I had ever hoped for, confirmation that the continuation of our race was still possible. When Fortune had finally succeeded in finding a way to fully embrace the mundanity she sought, I feared that perhaps we would never get another chance. And my worry only compounded when both Limestone and Maud showed no signs whatsoever of being anything other than ordinary earth pony.
But there in my forelegs, I held clear evidence that those fears were misplaced. While Pinkamena possessed the outward appearance of a pony, she was no less draconequus than I. All that was left was determining who she was.
Pinkamena’s soul stirred just then, as if sensing my thoughts. It reached out to my own and in an instant provided me with the answer to my question.
“Random,” I cooed aloud without realizing.
Fortune’s eyes narrowed at the word. “What did you say?”
I turned to face my daughter, dumbstruck at my error. “I—”
Fortune snatched Random from my hooves before returning her to her crib. “Get out, mother,” she hissed, slowly turning to face me. “I will not allow you to corrupt my daughter!”
“But she is one of us!”
“No! She is a perfectly normal young girl, not a monster like you.”
“She needs to be taught our ways or she’ll grow up never knowing—”
“She doesn’t need to know anything about you fiends. Not after what he did.” Her eyes glistened with an ancient rage as she descended into our age old argument. “She is a pony, and will be raised like one, completely oblivious to you and your kind.”
“Just because one of your uncles abused his powers is no reason to blame the rest of us.”
“Ha! You’re all monsters. Every last one of you. And neither Pinkamena nor I will ever be like you.”
“Fortune, please—”
The fury in her eyes magnified at my latest mistake. “Do not call me that!” she screamed, waking Random and causing her to cry. “I am not one of you, not any more. I am a pony! Now get out, mother!” She shoved me out of Random’s room. “You are no longer welcome in this house!” The door slam that followed left me no room for argument.
Dejected and defeated, I had no options available to me but to concede to my daughter’s demands.
“Go away, mother.”
I materialized next to Fortune, who was busy cooking. Despite having embraced her pony life full on, she still always seemed able to notice when I was nearby, even when I wasn’t entirely visible. The bonds of family were harder to break than those of race, afterall.
“I’m just here to observe my granddaughter,” I replied, gesturing out the window where a young pink filly could be seen tending to the rock farm.
Fortune scowled. “You’re breaking the deal. You’re only allowed to visit on her birthday.”
I couldn’t thank Igneous enough for accomplishing that little compromise. Despite having never seen my daughter as angry as she had been the night I first saw Random, somehow he had managed to convince Fortune that it would be best if my granddaughters at least got to see their grandmother every once in awhile. So every year on her birthday, I paid Random and her sisters a visit to tell them stories and legends of our kind. Her sisters never seemed to care too much, but Random loved them, and always begged for more from her “Granny Pie.”
“I won’t be seen,” I promised, returning to my invisible state. “She’ll never know I was here.”
Fortune grunted dismissively, but said nothing as she returned to focus on her cooking, allowing me to watch Random in peace.
I never fully understood exactly what it was Igneous did with his rock farm, or what purpose a rock farm had to begin with. As far as I could tell, the job consisted of nothing but moving rocks from one location to another, with no method to the madness that I could discern. At times, I almost thought it was a prank one of my siblings had played on the farmer pony. But he insisted it was valuable to Equestria somehow. And I couldn’t deny that it did somehow provide an income.
But regardless of its purpose, real or imaginary, rock farming was an undertaking that required a large amount of work. Everypony living on the farm had to provide their fair share of tending to the rocks, including all four of my granddaughters. Limestone, Maud, and even young Marble all performed their tasks admirably, taking after their father and inheriting his instincts. But Random always seemed to struggle and lag behind. Much as she was doing now.
“She’s miserable, you know,” I mused aloud as Random accidentally knocked over the small pile rocks she’d been stacking. It was the third time this had happened since I started watching her. With a sigh, she set to recreating the structure yet again.
“She has absolutely nothing to be miserable about,” Fortune insisted from the stove, stirring whatever it was she was making. “She’s healthy, has three sisters who love her, and a great future as a rock farmer ahead of her, providing a great service to all of Equestria.” She paused to sample the contents of her pot. “I couldn’t ask for a better life for any of my daughters.”
“Mm,” I wondered as the pile toppled once more. “Do you truly think she will be a rock farmer? She doesn’t quite seem to have a knack for it.”
Fortune stopped stirring to glower at me. “Perhaps not. But whatever her cutie mark dictates she’ll do, it most certainly won’t have anything to do with terrorizing innocent ponies or disrupting their way of life.” Back to the pot again. “She’ll be a productive member of society working together with other ponies to help benefit all of ponykind. As any normal pony would.”
I sighed. “Our kind isn’t as terrible as you make us out to be, Cloudy.” Over the past years I had finally succumbed to my daughter’s demands to call her by the name she had adopted for herself. “You should know this by now. Have you ever known any of us still around to do any of the wild things you accuse us of?”
“Biding your time, no doubt,” she scoffed. “Or perhaps simply afraid you’ll all be turned to stone too. I can’t and won’t trust any of you. Especially you, mother.” She stopped stirring and walked to the door. “Igneous, call the girls inside. Dinner’s ready.” She turned back to me. “You should leave now.”
“Just a second longer, I promise.” She scowled in response, but left the room anyway, leaving me alone.
I returned my gaze outdoors. Igneous had already rung the dinner bell, calling Limestone and Marble inside, while Random was busy gazing at her unimpressive pile of stones. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her as I turned to leave.
Just then, a brilliant flash of multicoloured light filled the sky, followed shortly by an immense gust of wind that caused Random’s normally straight and flat mane and tail to poof up into a tangled pink mess. Bewildered at the strange occurrence, she looked up at the sky in the direction the light had come from.
I had no idea what it was that she saw, but the smile that slowly grew across her face told me that, for the first time in her life, she had experienced true joy from something other than my stories.
Smiling myself, I dematerialized from the farm.
Several days later, Fortune called me out to a small diner near her farm for a talk. The fact that she was coming into contact with me under her own free will was a pretty clear sign that I was in for some bad news, but I tried to ignore that feeling as I donned my Granny Pie form and headed over promptly at the time she indicated. Whatever it was she had to say, I would face it head on.
But despite fearing the worst, nothing could have prepared me for what she had to say.
“What?” I asked dumbly when she finished.
“I told the girls you passed away in your sleep a few days ago.” Fortune summarized, calmly sipping her tea. Igneous nodded by her side. “You are not to visit Pinkamena Diane ever again.”
“But we had an agreement!” I protested dumbly.
Fortune raised an eyebrow. “We did, didn’t we? But as you broke it first, I see no reason for it to continue.”
“I broke it first?” I repeated, confused as to what exactly was going on. “All I did was watch from the window.”
“Oh, so it’s just a coincidence that Pinkamena Diane’s personality became drastically different immediately after you left? Or that she’s trying to throw wild parties every opportunity she has? Or that she simply refuses to work the fields now that she has her cutie mark?” Fortune leaned across the table to look me square in the eye. “This has your pawprints all over it, mother. She’s changed. Far too drastically for you not to have been involved.”
“She has her cutie mark?” I repeated, beaming at the thought. I knew it was likely to happen eventually as she was a pony as well as a draconequus, but the prospect was still very exciting. “That’s wonderful news!”
“Indeed so,” Igneous agreed. “Three balloons. She hath declared her destiny as a 'party pony'.” He shrugged. “'Tis not where my hopes for her had lain, yet I cannot begrudge the joy it doth grant her.”
“Focus on the matter at hand, dear,” Fortune scolded.
“I see no harm in discussing our daughter’s cutie mark with her grandmother.”
“She is ruining Pinkamena Diane’s life!”
Igneous shrugged again. “Maybe, maybe not.”
Fortune gave an angry snort before refocusing her attention on me. “Well? Why did you do it, mother?”
“Cloudy…” My smile gave way to a more solemn expression as I remembered just what it was my daughter was mad at me for. “I know we haven’t seen eye to eye lately, but I had nothing to do with this. Besides, isn’t it normal for a pony to embrace her new cutie mark once she gets it? I obviously can’t speak from experience, but it’s a rather life changing event, isn’t it?”
“You rigged the odds!” Fortune slammed her hooves on the table. “You couldn’t stand to see her grow up to be a normal, everyday pony so you changed her destiny to something more suitable to your wishes.” She sat there fuming for a minute before sitting back down, her anger replaced with sorrow. “I just wanted her to have a regular life, and you took it from her.” Igneous wrapped a comforting foreleg around his wife. She accepted it and sobbed silently into his chest.
“I—” I stammered, uncertain how to even begin to respond. What Fortune had just accused of me wasn’t just unthinkable, but quite impossible. “Even if I could do such a thing, I never would. Overwriting someone’s destiny? I couldn’t imagine a crueler fate for anyone, pony or not.” Draconequi were a powerful race to be sure, but to directly defy Fate? Were there truly individuals who possessed that kind of power?
“I don’t believe you,” Fortune managed between sobs. “You had to have done it. You had to…”
“Thou wilt do best to leave, Change,” Igneous suggested. "I am sorry thou wilt see Pinkamena no more, but her mother's word is firm.”
“I… I understand.” It was all I could say, though I didn’t mean it at all. I had been forced out of my granddaughter’s life a second time. And it was for a crime that I hadn’t even committed. There was so much more I had to tell her, so many more lessons I could teach her. She could have grown up to be something fantastic. But now that part of her heritage may as well have not even existed.
With no options left to me, I hurried out of the diner before Fortune could find yet another precious aspect of my life to remove.
I made sure that the next time I visited my daughter, it would be during the day. It was against my very nature to be so transparent in my actions, but I was there to make peace, and I didn’t want to do anything that might make Fortune turn me away before I had the chance to share my news.
Once again the door opened before I could knock, and I was once again greeted by an annoyed gray mare. To my surprise, I could tell that she looked slightly older. I knew it would have to happen eventually, but it was still quite a shock to see signs of mortality in my daughter.
“Pinkamena Diane isn’t here, mother.” She peered down her glasses at me. “Not that I’d let you see her if she were.”
“I’m not here to see her, Cloudy. I’m here to see you.” My gift to her, a photo album, materialized in my paw and I offered it to her. “I thought perhaps you’d like to see what Random was up to nowadays.”
Fortune raised an accusing eyebrow at the unprompted gift. “You’ve been spying on her?” Still, she took the book from me and began leafing through it.
“I’ve been watching her, yes,” I admitted with a smile. “She can get up to some seriously entertaining antics when she puts her mind to it.”
“Mm, yes. She does send me letters, you know.”
I stood there in silent anticipation as Fortune continued perusing the photo album, wondering just how much she would enjoy my gift. I had been working on the album for this very purpose ever since Random had left her home to live in Ponyville, but hadn’t been able to work up the courage to finally give it to her, afraid of how she might react considering our history.
Finally, Fortune reached the last page and, upon discovering there was nothing more to look at, looked up at me. Not as the single individual she hated more than anyone else in Equestria, but as her mother and her daughter’s grandmother. “Come inside. I’ll make us some tea.”
I released the breath I had apparently been holding and smiled. “Thank you,” I said as I followed her into the living room. She offered me a chair, which I graciously accepted, then continued into the kitchen to make the tea she’d promised.
“Where’s Igneous?” I asked noticing his absence.
“He’s taken Limestone and Marble to the fair. Should be back late, but I’ll want you gone before they come back.”
“Of course.”
We were silent after that. Though I had remained hopeful, I hadn’t actually expected Fortune to accept my peace offering. And now that she had, I was too afraid that anything I would say might inadvertently break the truce she’d offered and I’d be cast out her life yet again. So I just sat there in silence until Fortune returned to the room with the tea.
“I suppose you’re here to gloat,” she sighed as she had handed me my cup. “About how I was wrong for keeping her cooped up on the farm and that you were right that what she needed was more exposure to the world at large.”
“You were simply doing what you thought was best as her mother.” I took a sip. Peppermint with a hint of lemon. Quite good.
“But I was still wrong, wasn’t I? She’s made countless friends in Ponyville, and even some in Canterlot, if I’m reading her letters right.” She took a sip herself. “Every letter she sends, she’s telling me about how much fun she’s having, and how great her friends are.” She sighed. “She’s never talked that way about the farm.”
“Random wasn’t much for chores, no. She still hates them, in fact.” Another sip. The lemon was in the foreground this time, while the peppermint took a backseat. “Except for baking, of course. She’s an amazing baker, gets it from her mother.” I winked. “Though perhaps a little too focused on pastries.”
Fortune smiled at that. “I have to admit, her cupcakes are delicious. Marble simply adores them, and practically begs Pinkamena to make them every time she comes over.”
“And how often is that?”
“At least once a month. Usually more.”
“See?” I asked, taking another sip. The lemon was gone this time, replaced with lime. “She still loves you as much as anypony could love her mother. Just because she’s left the farm hasn’t changed that one bit.”
“I know that!” Fortune put her tea down a tad too forcibly, spilling a little onto the tray. “She’s never been anything but the sweetest of daughters. But still...” She returned the cup to her lips. “I do miss her. More than I care to admit at times. It would have been nice having her around the farm still.”
“She’d have left eventually anyway.” Peach this time, with the peppermint nowhere to be found. “As much as they may love their parents, children tend to have a habit of leaving the nest once they’ve found their calling.”
“I suppose so,” Fortune sighed. “Maud’s already well on her way to getting her rocktorate. I suppose it’s only a matter of time before she leaves as well.”
“Speaking of Maud, how is she? I haven’t seen her in quite some time.” Chamomile. One of my favourites.
“Busy. It takes a lot of hard work to get a degree like that. Still, she always manages to find time to help out around the farm from time to—” she paused, eyeing the contents of cup. “What in Equestria are you doing to my tea?”
Unable to control myself any longer now that I’d been found out, I burst out laughing. “Nothing, nothing, I swear,” I managed between giggles. “Just changing the flavour a little bit at a time.” I smiled. “You looked like you could use a little cheering up.
“This was supposed to be a simple lilac tea, you know,” she scolded. But apparently she couldn’t keep the sternness in her face for long as a smile broke through. “But thanks. I suppose I could have used a little silliness.” She took another sip. “Ugh! Cinnamon’s never been my favourite. Why would anypony want to waste good tea with such a horrible tasting spice?”
“It’ll change soon enough,” I chuckled. “Though I could just make it lilac again if you’d rather. I know how much you prefer things not be quite so chaotic.”
“No!” she protested, perhaps a little louder than she intended as her face reddened a little at the realization. “No, this is nice. I’m having a good time, mother.” How long had it been since I’ve heard her call me that without the bitter venom that normally accompanied it? The warmth I felt at that moment exceeded my wildest dreams. “We haven’t had a nice talk like this in years.”
“Well then,” I said, smiling into my cup of tea. “Let’s talk.”
"And she led them out of town blaring music all the way, much to the puzzlement of everypony else. Even Celestia herself had no idea what was going on."
Fortune laughed. "That must have been quite the sight."
"It really was," I agreed, chuckling behind my cup. "When I told her that old story about Silver Pipes and the parasprites, I had no idea she'd go to such lengths if she ever encountered them herself. A simple flute would have done the trick, but to assemble an entire band and wear it herself?" I pointed to the picture of Random and the rather ridiculous assortment of instruments attached to various parts of her body. "She really does live up to her name sometimes."
"Mm." Fortune's smile vanished. "I wish you'd call her by her proper name. 'Random' is just not a very fitting name for a pony."
"But it is a fitting name for a draconequus," I countered. "Besides. Even her new friends call her that sometimes."
Fortune choked a little in surprise. "They do? How did they even find out about—"
"It's not like that." I waved my paw, dismissing my daughter's concern. "It's just how they describe her antics, especially Rainbow Dash. But still," I gave Fortune my best playful smile. "It's quite the coincidence, don't you think?"
Fortune hit me with her best glower, though it didn't last long and the pleasant smile I had grown accustomed to over the past couple years took its place.
Ever since giving it to her, I'd been meticulously maintaining the photo album of Random's exploits. It was fairly easy to acquire pictures without being seen with my powers, and I was able to place them directly in the book for Fortune to look over whenever she wanted, despite having not actually touched the thing since I'd given it to her. One of the perks of being a nearly all-powerful entity.
It had wound up being the perfect gift, too. Ever since I’d given it to her, Igneous would find some excuse one day each month to take his daughters out of the house for a few hours. Then I’d use the opportunity to drop by and talk with Fortune about Random and everything she’d been up to since our last get together. Random did continue to send letters home, of course. And she visited quite frequently. But a mother couldn’t help but worry about her daughter once she’d left to live her own life. And since Fortune no longer possessed the ability to be anywhere she wanted any time she wanted, I think it put her mind at ease knowing that I was there to keep an eye on her daughter. Once she had gotten used to the idea of me silently watching her, anyway. Her only condition was that I not interfere in her life in any way.
Not that I would, of course. At least not in any manner that Fortune would find out about.
Apparently done giving me funny looks, Fortune returned her gaze to one of her favourite new pictures in the album: A scene of Random and her new best friends floating and glowing before Nightmare Moon, Luna's darker emotions made manifest, right before they took her down and returned her to the pony she had been before her rage and sadness consumed her.
"I still can't believe she's become the bearer of one of the Elements of Harmony," she sighed. "Laughter, even. How fitting.”
“Ha! You think you’re surprised? I’m impressed that anyone with a draconequus soul could even come close to the position of element bearer.” The thought sent me into giggles. “One of Chaos’s descendants wearing one of Order’s sacred relics. The very thought is both absurd and unprecedented.”
Fortune gave me an amused look. “Pinkamena Diane is pretty unprecedented herself.”
“I suppose she is.” I returned the look. “Absurd too, come to think of it.”
“Mother!” She pretended to hit me with the photo album. “That’s my daughter you’re talking about!”
“It’s true!” I laughed. “Although,” I dropped the smile, remembering something I’d been wanting to bring up for a while now. “I do still think that she should be aware of her heritage.”
“Mother, please.” She closed the book and looked me right in the eyes, her own pleading with me not to start a fight. “We’ve been having such a good time, and it’s been wonderful but…” She paused.
“But what?” I asked when it was obvious she wasn’t going to continue on her own.
“...I don’t want to talk about this right now.” She stood up and walked out of the room.
“Cloudy…”
She stopped at the doorway, and turned back to face me. She was smiling, but it wasn’t entirely a happy smile. “Thanks for the visit, mother. See you next month?”
“Of course.”
“Are you alone, Cloudy?”
Fortune jumped, dropping her spoon into the soup she was making. “Mother! Don’t do that! Wait…” her expression changed from surprised to alarmed. “Why are you even here? You just visited me a few days ago.”
“I’m sorry, Cloudy, it’s just…” I looked behind me to make sure nopony else was present. “Is it safe to talk here?”
“For a little bit. Igneous and the girls are still tending to the farm.” Alarm changed to concern. “What’s wrong, mother? You’re positively spooked.”
“Your uncle Discord has been freed.”
Fortune’s jaw dropped. “But how?”
“I’m… not sure. But somehow he got out and Ponyville became his playground, just as Equestria was a thousand years ago.”
Fortune had no response, though I could see her old hatred flaring up in her eyes.
“Random and her friends stopped him, sealed him back in stone. But he was definitely loose for a couple days, and he...” I paused, fighting tears. “He hurt Random. Not physically, but he...” I couldn’t finish the thought. “I just wanted to tell you before Random did.”
“Mother…” if words were fire, the one I just heard would have rivaled even the sun’s heat. “What did he do?”
I turned away, unable to see my daughter like that. “He made her angry. At everything. She was her own polar opposite. It was...” I paused, trying to think of the right word. Finally I settled on “dreadful.”
“And you did nothing to stop him,” she guessed. “You just let him do this to her.”
“That’s not fair!” I protested, turning back to face my daughter as my eyes pleaded for her to understand. “He’s powerful, Cloudy. Certainly more powerful than I am. And you know full well one of the first things draconequi learn is how to become immune to each other’s magic. If you had only—“ I stopped myself as I realized I was about to give words to the bitter thought that had been clawing at the back of my brain since this whole thing started.
“If I had what?” Fortune growled.
Unable to respond, I averted my gaze.
That only provoked Fortune’s ire further. “Well, mother? Speak up!” She took an intimidating step towards me. “Please, tell me how this whole thing could possibly be my fault.” She laughed bitterly. “I simply cannot wait to hear what you have to say.”
“...If you had let me teach Random how to use her powers, none of this would have happened.”
Fortune turned her back to me and returned her attention to her soup. “Leave.”
“Cloudy, I—”
Fortune whipped back around to face me, eyes burning with a rage I hadn’t seen in her for centuries. “If I keep talking to you, mother, I’ll say something we both regret. And these past few years have been too nice for me to simply throw them away with a misplaced word of anger.” She turned back to her soup once again. “So leave. Please.”
I did.
I wasn’t sure if I was still welcome in Fortune’s home when the date of our next monthly chat came around, but I thought I would chance it anyway. Just in case, I materialized outdoors, and brought a peace offering of sorts: several bags of everchanging tea. She’d grown quite fond of my little prank from earlier, and it had become a part of our monthly routine. I thought she might appreciate the ability to make some herself from time to time.
But to my dismay, the door didn’t open as soon as I’d appeared, as it had so many times in the past. I waited a moment; perhaps she was preoccupied with something that required her attention, but it soon became apparent that she wasn’t going to come. So I did something I’d never had the opportunity to do before.
I knocked on the front door.
There was no response.
“Cloudy?” I called, knocking again. “Fortune? Are you alright?” I was growing increasingly worried. I could handle being shouted at or ordered to leave, but no response at all? What was going on?
After several minutes of knocking, pounding, and shouting, the door finally clicked open and a very distraught Fortune looked up at me before stepping aside to let me in. I wasted no time in doing so.
“Are you alright?” I asked again, my concern growing even further. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her like this.
Silence continued to be the only response I received as she walked across the room to sit down in her chair. Not knowing what else to do, I took my customary spot as well.
We sat there in uncomfortable silence for what seemed like an eternity. I unsure of what to say, and she seemingly unable to talk. Unable to bear it any longer, I finally worked up the courage to speak.
“Cloudy, what hap—”
“It was worse than you told me, mother.” Her words were barely audible and yet crystal clear. “She… her letter described…” Tears welled up in her eyes. “She couldn’t handle it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said dumbly, echoing my daughter’s expression. “I had no idea, but,” I brightened up. “She’s over it now! She’s back to her usual self, laughing and baking up a storm and being the friend to everypony in town, just like she always was. Just last week she was dressed as a chicken and helping the town’s foals collect their Nightmare Night candy.” I chuckled to myself at the thought.
“I know.” There was no change in tone. “Pinkamena always did manage to get over things remarkably fast. But ... the things she wrote about… the things he did…” she paused to wipe the tears from her eyes. “This is why I became a pony in the first place.”
“Fortune...”
“When Uncle did all those things all those years ago, and none of you tried to stop him, I couldn’t take it. It just wasn’t right!” Emotion had finally returned to her voice, though it wasn’t a happy one. “Millions were tortured and not one of you lifted a claw to stop him. If the princesses hadn’t intervened when they did...” She turned to face me, tears running down her face. “Why didn’t any of you stop him?”
“There were rules…” the answer sounded as weak to me then as it had the first time she’d asked me over a thousand years ago. “I know it doesn’t sound right, but… we’d long since decided not to interfere with the descendants of Order.”
Fortune made a noise somewhere between a snort and a sob. “Since when do beings of chaos care about rules or agreements?”
“We may be descendants of Chaos, but that doesn’t mean we’re bound by it. And, at the time, it was the decision we thought was best.”
“Well it wasn’t.”
“No…” I turned away from her, memories of the results of that horrible decision flooding my mind. “It wasn’t. And if I knew then what I know now, I never would have allowed it to happen. Especially since—” I cut myself off, unable to give words to the thought in my mind.
“Since what?” Fortune had stopped crying and was focused intently on me and what I was saying. Our countless arguments about the subject had never reached this point in the past. I knew what I had to say.
“...It would have kept my daughter from hating me all these centuries.”
Silence again.
We sat there for a long time, neither of us speaking or moving as I waited for her to say something. Anything to let me know what she was thinking.
Eventually she stood up and walked to the kitchen without a word. I desperately wanted to follow her, but knew that I couldn’t. I’d give my daughter all the time she needed.
I had been waiting for quite some time before Fortune returned, tea tray in her mouth. She placed it on the table, poured us each a cup of tea, sat down again, and began to drink. All without looking at me. I picked up my own cup to take a drink as well, but I was so focused on her and and her behavior to even notice what flavour it was.
When she eventually finished her tea, she set the cup down, but still she seemed unable to meet my gaze. Instead, she was staring intently at the bottom of her cup, as though whatever answer she sought to give me was inscribed in it. After what seemed like the millionth endless silence of the evening, she took a deep breath and finally spoke. “She needs to know.”
I blinked. Of all the possible responses she could have possibly given, I had never even considered this.“You mean…?”
She nodded.
Had she told me this under any other circumstance, I would have sung out in joy, and immediately began planning all the things I would tell Random. About our culture. Our powers. Our history. About everything that being a draconequus entails!
But as it was, all I could do was reach out to my daughter and give her the hug she so clearly needed.
