Pony Legend Bedtime Storiesby The AtlanteanChaptersThe Legend of Harmony WillowbarkThe Legend of the Gemstone MineThe Legend of Amethyst RoseThe Legend of Harmony WillowbarkA pink alicorn, no older than seven years of age, watched the sun come down, the moon rise, and the stars show their nightly beauty. Weaving through the sky, the auroras of the Crystal Empire swirled and sparkled, marking the end of the annual Crystal Fair. In the busy streets below her position on the balcony of the Crystal Castle, she saw the standard cleanup that always took place, dreadfully dull yet fascinating in how it was done. “Alright, Flurry Heart, almost time for bed,” a feminine voice called. “Coming, Mom,” Flurry replied. She turned around to see Princess Cadence, ruler of the Crystal Empire and her mother, walk gracefully to the balcony where her daughter stood. “You want another story, don’t you?” Cadence asked. “I love your stories, Mom. All full of magic and adventure and Aunt Twilight and her friends and-” “I know, I know,” Cadence chuckled. “I have a different tale this time.” She teleported two cushions from the family room and plopped them on the balcony. After a pause, they both sat. “Is this a good story?” “Yes, my dear, this is one of the most famous stories of all time - even more than your aunt Twilight.” Cadence paused, collecting her thoughts for the coming hours. Finally, she said, “There are thousands of things in this magical world of Equestria that captures the mind and imagination of fillies and gentlecolts, young and old, awake or sleeping. The great wizard Star Swirl the Bearded is an excellent example. The legend of the Elements of Harmony are another, as are the pasts of Discord, Celestia and Luna, and the Changelings. “But this is not about any of those things or ponies, although they may be mentioned once or twice. This a tale older than Equestria, older than the three Tribes that eventually united, and older even than some of our oldest cities. It is not as old as creation, but it does come close, when ponies first began to start civilization… A twenty-odd-year old Unicorn mare picked her way through the forest. It was not like any forest we know of today, with beautiful greens, ancient castles, ferocious predators, and the occasional patch of poison joke. No, this was much different from the modern Everfree. Instead of the Tree of Harmony glowing during both day and night, the cave had not even formed, much less the canyon where it lay. A river, more of a stream now, flowed gently through the soil-banked path it had carved for itself. In a few thousand years the river would reroute and go around to the Ghastly Gorge, but currently, it was here, near the meadow that the modern ruins fill. The mare herself had a twilight-white coat, silky silver mane and tail, and golden eyes. Her rough coat made it easy to forget that she wasn’t a tree, and her contrastingly soft mane and tail felt like a sheep’s wool jacket. Those beautiful, golden eyes, glowing like the Sun with the coolness of the Moon, finished her mare-next-door prettiness like a rose in your hair. Her cutie mark, now that was interesting: she is the only pony known to have all seven Elements of Harmony as a cutie mark. The Rambling Rock Ridge as we know it does not yet exist, and neither do the nearby towns of Dodge City, Ponyville, and Appleloosa. Many land formations have yet to come into being, including the rocky spire where Canterlot rests today. Instead, the entire center of Equestria was a massive forest stretching from Fillydelphia to Los Pegasus, from the Macintosh Hills, at this time a huge mountain range many thousands of hooves tall, to the Crystal Mountains, steadily rising from their craggy tectonic border. The mare wore a saddlebag, something improved on for millennia to us, and a sheath, in which sat a dagger. Now this dagger was typical for a mare to keep with her as she wandered about the forest, full of dangers not even the Timberwolves can rival. Saber-toothed Timber-tigers exist along with their normal prey, and terrifyingly large carnivorous plants like the horrid-smelling Flytrap, which has shrunk considerably in size today, saturate the land with their scent. As she continued to walk carefully through the forest, across the stream, and farther into the meadow, she cast a seeing spell. All around her, the view transformed into a bustling camp, where a couple dozen ponies had set wards and traps around fro defense. This camp was bigger than most, encompassing the entire meadow, and smoke rose from the many cook-fires used by the population. “Ah! Our Willowbark has returned safe and sound!” exclaimed a Unicorn stallion excitedly. She bowed her head for a moment. “It is good to see you walking again, Grandfather. The sickness we have endured is finally coming to an end.” “It is indeed, Harmony,” her grandfather replied. Then, more urgently, he asked, “Do you have the herbs from the northern forest?” “Yes, Grandfather, I do.” Harmony opened her saddlebag to show her findings. Buried deep under many supplies and other plants, a tiny bag was tied shut with a rope. She took it out with her magic and undid the rope, revealing a single flower emitting a soft blue glow. “The camps there were fighting so hard that they completely destroyed much of the northern forest border. This is the only one left.” Her grandfather tenderly took the plant in his own magic, cradling it with a deep purple levitation spell. “Then we must protect it with our lives until we can grow more.” Harmony nodded. “How’s Grandmother?” “She moved on the day after you left.” A tear rolled down her grandfather’s cheek. He’d been with the elderly mare for forty whole years of dedication, and her loss was a huge blow to him. “But she said she’s lived a good long life.” “Yes, that she did.” Harmony indicated a small plot of cooled soil with her hoof. “That should be the best spot for it. We’d best plant it now, while you can still teach me to grow it. Soon, the sickness will no longer take our family and friends.” “Woah, wait a minute!” Flurry said. “They’re scared of something like the flu?” “No, they aren’t.” Cadence took a deep breath. “This was much worse. We call it the Cutie Pox, and it has lost much of its severity in recent years, but back then it did not simply add more cutie marks; it instead took them away. It attacked the cutie mark and the magic surrounding it, eventually killing the affected pony as he or she was completely cut off from their mark. It was a grave disease, and we are just now able to uncover its grisly past.” “The Cutie Pox?” “Yes. Now, where was I?...” It took several weeks for enough seeds from the flower to scatter around in the cooler soil. New plants grew slowly, especially outside their native habitat, and this particular one was no exception. If anything, it grew even slower. After two months, the winter cold had come, and only four of the seventeen seeds had sprouted. Harmony Willowbark was a gardener. Her talent was farming. She and her grandfather tended these plants for years, eventually growing enough to serve the needs of hundreds of individuals. After her grandfather passed due to his old age, she continued to garden, this time to summon an apparition of him - she had never been able to say her final goodbyes. Harmony had realized the full potential of the magic within these plants, which grew best during the winter nights, and saw that they could indeed do anything if she had enough of them. Her full and prosperous life, inventing marriage, giving birth to three, and always finding time to care for the flowers, is an example of her dedication. Very few ponies have ever been able to surpass her in this aspect through all of time. However, what she accomplished in the end was what made her truly special. Harmony stood in the canyon, a thousand years after her grandfather passed away. A strange side effect of working with these plants was near immortality, so she never looked older than twenty-seven for the past millennium. Her duty now was to finish the journey, accomplish the task. But she did not. Over the past thousand years, she had learned to cherish those you love, and hold their memories in your heart. That as long as you did that, those who were gone could be brought back without magic, without them being there. The mind’s eye is a powerful thing, for with it one can see everything they’d done, everything they can do, and everything they will. They can see their past experiences, their joys and fears, their family and friends. So although she had the magic, the knowledge, and the will, she could not summon her grandfather’s spirit. There comes a time in our lives when we must make a decision that will affect all of time after us. Harmony Willowbark had made hers. With the honesty in her heart, the kindness and generosity she’d shown her friends, the laughter and joy of her past, and loyalty to her family in her mind, and the magic within her and the plants, she cast a single spell - not the dozen needed to summon her grandfather’s spirit. The vast sea of glowing blue flowers coalesced into a single entity which blasted a hole in the canyon wall and rested within. It formed a tree with five large branches and six magical gems, along with the marks of the sun and moon. When the blinding white faded away, the Unicorn mare was nowhere to be seen. In giving the future access to the powerful magic of the Elements of Harmony, she gave herself to the inevitable passing. She had become the Tree of Harmony. “Which is why we call it the Tree of Harmony today,” Princess Cadence said to her yawning daughter. “It is not that it represents harmony through Equestria. The Tree is Harmony Willowbark, and we honor her sacrifice by remembering her story.” “Do you think if we tried hard enough, you, me, Aunt Twilight, and Celestia and Luna, that we could talk to her?” Flurry Heart asked, turning over in her bed. Cadence smiled softly. “Probably. But we should learn from her example. Besides, I bet you can talk to her in your dreams tonight.” With that, she kiss Flurry Heart goodnight, turned off the light, and closed the door. Author's Note This story is quite the deviation from what I usually do, but hey, variety is good. The Legend of the Gemstone Mine“For a thousand years, Princess Celestia has ruled over her subjects with benevolence and love. The magical land of Equestria has seen peace, with no major conflict or issue during that time.” “Except for that one time 500 years after Luna became Nightmare Moon and was banished. Yeah, that was a big one.” Twilight narrowed her eyes as she lowered a storybook with her magic. She was in her castle library, along with her niece and friend. “Seriously, Pinkie! You’re ruining the mood!” “Oh come on, Twilight, you know I’m right.” The princess sighed. “Yes, you are.” She looked at the seven-year-old Flurry Heart, who waited expectantly for her to continue the story. “However, I promised Cadence that I wouldn’t tell that story. Wait, which one are you talking about? There’s two major event from that year.” “The time Princess Celestia’s castle caught fire.” “Better than the other event, but still a bit gruesome. I’ll tell my story, if you don’t mind.” “Oh, yes,” Pinkie Pie said cheerfully as she read the book’s title. “Ooh, I love this one! Can I listen too? Pleeeease?” “Fine. just try to stay quiet. Where was I? Oh, yes. Here we are. “But before this time of peace and prosperity, Equestria was filled with many terrible problems. And so history would be like that, alternating between peace and conflict, each interval lasting only a few decades at most. That is, however, the legacy of ancient Equestria: knights in shining armor, awesome sword fights, and huge armies covering miles upon miles of open terrain….” Twilight had started to drifted off, imagining the great history which she loved to read. Pinkie tapped her shoulder and she came back to reality. She shook her head and continued: “But how did Star Swirl the Bearded, the greatest wizard of all time, find the potential of greatness in Celestia and Luna, who, despite being alicorns fillies, were the weakest ponies alive? Now THAT is a story of its own….” One thousand two hundred years ago, in the blistering cold of the Frozen North’s winter. A lone Unicorn trudged through the snow, clutching his long woolen cloak as close to his freezing body as he could. A pointy wizard’s hat, complete with golden jingle bells, was held on his head with his magic. The wind howled across the landscape, blowing sheets of snow into his reddened face. Above him, the overcast sky offered no consolation of the sun’s warmth. To the left and right, the only thing to see was unending snow in either direction. After another few minutes, he saw his target: a small cave, sheltered from the wind. At the northern base of the Crystal Mountains, small cave entrances like this usually held deep-running gemstone mines. He entered the cave and shook the cave from his long, brown beard. His head drifted from side to side as he took in his surroundings. Just as he thought, this was a mine entrance. Icy wood pillars supported the permafrost above, as with rock deeper underground. Abandoned mine carts full of frozen food and polished gems littered the floor. In the back of the cave, tracks led to an anchored mirage spell that hid the mine from curious eyes. The Unicorn was impressed. It took considerable magic ability, along with several anchorage gems, to cast such a spell. Judging by its deterioration, the spell was several years old. That alone made it even more impressive; anchored mirage spells typically lasted a few days at best, even for him. He walked through the magic mirage, feeling a tingling sensation as he did. It felt like he was phasing through solid rock. His vision went dark for a second as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting beyond the mirage. This mine was undoubtedly emptied. No lighting crystals were left buried in the walls, no torches, no nothing. Just him and the blackness. He cast an illumination spell. Almost immediately, the cavern’s hundreds of crystals reflected his face in a thousand directions. Except one. He walked down the dim hall, avoiding jumbled rocks and stalagmites in his way. His pace stayed slow, however, as the many crystals in the walls meant this was likely a criminal hideout. The jingle a cell door drew his attention. That was the mark of a prison cell, not a landmark sight in the gemstone mines of the Crystal Mountains, including all hideouts. He cautiously approached the source. It was a sleeping night-blue filly. She had the wings of a Pegasus and a long, pointy horn. She must’ve tossed in her sleep, causing the door to jingle. Beside her, a slightly older filly, with the same body build, caressed the younger one’s mane. This second filly was white, and awake, too. She looked up to the stallion with unforgettable pink eyes and said a single, tearful word. “Please.” “That’s so adorable!” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Pinkie!” “Sorry.” The stallion glanced around. He was alone with the two. His hoof went to unlocking the door, bashing the lock off with magic-boosted strength. The older filly flinched, but still hovered over her… The stallion assumed they were sisters. She did back off, thought, when he knelt beside her. “What happened to her?” he asked in a gravelly voice. “Luna’s cold. She’s cold and sick and she won’t wake up.” The filly had a colorful, soft voice, one meant to comfort yet still be dead serious simultaneously. “Then we must build a fire. Young filly, although I do not live in the wilds of Equestria, I still know that is the basic necessity for northern life. Were you not taught?” “No.” She was close to crying. “I only wanted to keep her warm and I didn’t know how to make a fire and she got colder and so I was next to her so I could warm her.” “Now, now, my little pony,” he soothed, running his gray hoof through her pink mane. “It’s okay. You can do this. Clear your mind. Think only of fire. Picture it in front of you, imagine the heat within you as a flame just waiting to escape.” The filly closed her eyes and concentrated. “Feel it flowing through you, like the magic inside, like the blood in your veins. Now, put it in front of you.” She scrunched her cute little face. Suddenly, the space immediately in front of her lit up in flames. Feeling the heat, she jerked her eyes open. There it was, a tiny fire. “I DID IT! I MADE FIRE!” The stallion grinned around his beard. “Yes, you did.” She moved the fire as close to her sister as she dared. Slowly, Luna opened her eyes. “Tia, I’m cold.” “I know, Luna, I know,” Tia replied as she hugged her. She smiled at the stallion. “Thank you.” “Tia and Luna,” he said, “where are your parents?” “I don’t know,” Tia whimpered. “They left for a trip up north. I took Luna away to protect her from bad ponies. Then we were taken here. I don’t know for how long. Then you came.” He stood. “Then I shall care for you until your parents do return. I am the wizard Star Swirl the Bearded, but you may call me Star Swirl.” “And so he did. For the next two years, he raised Celestia and Luna like his own, until their parents finally came home. Even then, he continued to watch over them, as a good friend this time.” “When they were old enough, he guided them as his prodigies. They learned the ways of magic from him and flight from a trusted Pegasus friend. Once they reached maturity, they realized their place as Equestria’s rulers. Had they not met Star Swirl in that gem mine, the world would never have received the benevolence they bestow on those around them.” “Celestia and Luna, daughters of circumstance.” Flurry Heart shielded herself from Pinkie’s waterfalls of tears. The Earth pony, on the other hoof, bawled, “That story is so adorable!” “Yes, it is, Pinkie,” Twilight conceded. “But its true nature is still unknown. Is it true, or was it crafted by our ancestors? “We may never know.” Author's Note What do you think? Was this legend based in reality, or is it a fantastical tale for fillies to believe? That debate may go on for a long time, because as Twilight said: "We may never know." The Legend of Amethyst RoseA seven-year-old Flurry Heart bounced around Princess Luna, who tried to keep a straight face. It looked like Twilight when she’d gotten her cutie mark, or so Celestia claimed. Meanwhile, the alicorn filly yelled, “Story time! Story time!” “You must be quiet now, young Princess, or you will not be able to hear our tale.” Luna slipped into the “royal we” like she normally did when her tone became serious. “A tale like none other, we’re sure you will enjoy.” Flurry calmed down and sat on a plush velvet cushion. Luna did the same on a larger one, resting her tired legs. She usually never stayed awake past noon, but it was apparently her turn to foalsit. After a double-fun day in the Ponyville park, it was time to take a break in Twilight’s castle. “Now, young one, what stories have you already heard?” “Mom told me about Harmony Willowbark and Aunt Twilight told me about how you and Princess Celestia met Starswirl the Bearded.” “We see. Both of those are ancient tales, but good ones nonetheless. This next story is not as old as Willowbark but more well-known than my experiences in the Frozen North. Tonight, my dear filly, we shall entertain you the legend of Amethyst Rose.” “Who’s that, Princess Luna?” “Amethyst Rose is much like a freelance adventurer in a way. Her Unicorn magic allowed her to tackle difficult obstacles, and her inquisitive mind helped her to solve even the most challenging of puzzles. You could, technically, say that Amethyst Rose is the ‘prequel’ to Daring Do, although they are separated by more than a millenium.” Luna closed her eyes to recall the tale, as she had done every night to sleepy orphans through their dreams hundreds of years ago. “Unlike most classic legends of the ancient times, this tale does not start with a dark and stormy night. It does not begin with a scene of instant action to hook the audience into a fast-paced adventure. Instead, the beginning of this tale is beyond the two cliches of storytelling. “A mid-age Unicorn of violet coat, lapis blue mane and tail, and shimmering amethyst eyes approached the wall of intricately carved stone nestled in the rainforest. It was an active rainforest, full of life during both the day and the night, and the critters clicked, the birds chirped, and the insects buzzed nonstop. So thick was the air, so saturated with insects and vapor, that one could not walk four steps without accidentally swallowing at least one with the ragged breaths she took… The Unicorn mare stared at the peach-tan wall of stone before her. It was overgrown with decaying moss and creeping vines, with dark brown roots seeping deep into the cracks between bricks. The wall slightly curved away from her on both sides, each direction intervaled by ruined towers in various states of disrepair. Patches of auburn red showed her where the jungle had broken away the protective outer layers and revealed the hard-baked clay beneath. On the section before her, along with various other points on the encircling wall, were intricate carvings of a sort never seen by Equestrian eyes in over a thousand years. The Zen spirals and four-clover symbols were used to identify an ancient tribe of zebras that created various, but never before had they been found on buildings and walls. She pulled a scroll of spellworking paper from her saddlebag and magically inscribed the image into it. That would allow her to study it after the fact. Returning her attention to the image itself, she tried to understand its possible meaning. Well, I've already walked around this entire wall, and I know that zebras have always favored puzzle doors for millennia, she thought. But I've tried everything. She scrunched her eyes in frustration. “Harmony damn it!” she yelled, slamming her hoof into the inscription. Seemingly in response to her admonition, the image glowed green, and its Zen spirals began to spin in hypnotizing patterns. She backed away and stared. Had it really been that easy? “Amethyst Rose, the Equestrian who knows,” a voice rumbled from the spirals. “If your intent is to proceed, you must answer me these riddles three. Should you answer incorrect, from this jungle you shall eject.” “Ask away, spirit. I am not afraid,” she replied loudly. “Despised am I by knave and liar After me, the wise inquire I rise above all death and fire.” Amethyst blinked. “Despised by liars, sought by the wise, above even death and fire.” Her hoof scratched her chin, and one of her lapis blue eyebrows subconsciously arched. “Despised by liars… truth. The answer is truth.” “Very well,” the voice rumbled. “Remember the consequence should you fail, no spell can save you from wind’s assail: “Only one color, but not one size Stuck at the bottom, but easily flies Present in sun, but not in rain Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.” Her ears went flat. She’d never heard this one before. She began to pace, her mind racing against the imaginary clock she knew wasn’t actually there. “What could it be, what could it be?... Oh, come on!” “Is that your final answer?” “No! How could you think that? You're like my sister's shadow, always thinking too quickly. Wait…” “I can do nothing else.” “Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Amethyst stopped cold. “A shadow. That's my final answer. A shadow.” “Correct. For your final riddle told, a classic be unfold: “You can run, but cannot walk. You have a mouth, but cannot talk. You have a head, but never weep. You have a bed, but never sleep.” She blinked. “How can you run but not walk? It doesn't make sense.” “When in the perspective of its brothers, everything makes sense to one or others.” “Does the wall only talk in bad rhymes?” Flurry Heart asked. “Indeed it does, as do most other enchanted zebra artifacts. That has been the way of zebras for millennia, to speak only in rhymes, and their somewhat-sentient creations have always attempted to emulate their creators’ tongue. Most only succeed in rhyming itself, without the natural flow zebras know,” Luna replied as she levitated a cup of coffee to her lips. “Ah. I needed that. As for Amethyst...” “You can run, but cannot walk… run but can’t walk. Well, most ponies can walk. You have a mouth, but cannot talk… a mute? You have a head, but never weep… somepony who doesn’t cry? You have a bed, but never sleep… I don’t know of anything or anyone who wouldn’t sleep in a bed if she had one.” Contemplating the riddle, she knelt by a puddle of water surrounded by leaves and bumped it. The water flowed out swiftly and chaotically, like messengers rushing between generals. “Water flows fast,” she mumbled. Then it hit her. “Of course! A river runs. The mouth is where it meets the sea. The head is where it bubbles from a spring. And the riverbed is the bottom!” She stood triumphantly and strode to the wall once more. “It's a river.” “Correct,” it said. “But these questions you shan't forget, lest you never see the sun set.” At that moment, the rainforest around her morphed into a solid wall and ceiling of coarse-grained granite, with periodic blue mage torches illuminating the cave floor. “Welcome, Amethyst Rose. But much awaits you before your adventure draws to a close.” “WHO SAID THAT?” she cried, whipping her head to the voice’s direction. “I did.” A mysterious hooded figure emerged from the dim torchlight ahead. It had no muzzle, no nostrils, only swiveling, pointed ears and eyes that resembled spotless white marbles on its face, but had a very normal body, albeit one just barely darker than its eyes. “You’re kidding. You don’t even have a mouth.” “A mouth nor muzzle I do not need, as I do without, as per my creed. Magic takes the form of many things, and to understand, one needs not the voice of kings.” Amethyst put her hoof to her forehead and groaned. This was not what she expected at all. Noticing that the figure had begun to walk away, she followed it through the cavern. A few feet ahead, the mage torches lit; a few behind, they went out. Each pair of flames had a different pattern: one was a couple of roaring lions, while the next lit zebra guards, their ceremonial spears at the perfect vertical angle. “What is this place?” she asked. “How did I get here?” “Long ago, the zebras lived and prospered. But while they enjoyed a unified kingdom above, their most precious artifacts were stored with love. They hid these things from the blazing sun in hopes that they would not be stolen. To explain your arrival, a tribe must have remembered the olden days and connected their own small civilization with that of the original, their Zen Mother.” “You didn’t rhyme that. I thought zebra stuff rhymed all it could.” “There was no need to, nor was there a way to.” The figure sighed. “I have stayed here for nigh on a thousand years, wishing that the right pony would come along and bring these artifacts to light for all to see. But alas, I have not the means to open the great gates and set this free.” She raised an eyebrow. “There are gates?” It nodded. “Indeed, Amethyst Rose.” It gestured down a cavernous opening in the wall, where the ceiling reached a whopping one hundred fifty feet high, with dangling stalactites that drooled onto the stalagmite-infested lower jaw of the wolf’s mouth it resembled. With a wave of the figure’s pale hoof, the opening lit by way of six massive mage torches built like medieval-style lighthouses--giant pots held up by thick-walled towers with a magical blue flame burning eternally in their bowls. Around them, arrayed in peculiar Zen spirals, hundreds of cobblestone buildings sat: forges, homes, stores, and smaller torches all basked in the radiating magic of the towers. Beyond the mage-torch towers, a truly enormous stoneworks cast an unearthly shadow over the obsidian archway, skillfully crafted by the most talented of all zebra architects, that supported the rock above its sealed entrance. The obsidian had an iridescent glow about it, as if a lingering spell had been cast upon it centuries ago. “This can’t be in the jungle! The ground is too soft, the bedrock too deep.” Amethyst whipped her head to face the figure. “This… I’ve been searching for seventeen years for this place! This is the Lost City!” “Indeed this place is a city. But that does not mean it is lost.” “Nopony has seen this in thousands of years! How is it still here? Where are we?” “This city was designed to withstand five thousand years of neglect. Standing under the grand Saddleback Range of Saddle Arabia’s southeastern border, this was once the shining jewel of zebra civilization, but they returned to their more tribal ways approximately two thousand three hundred years ago, locking their great city behind an impenetrable wall of rock and calling upon the Zen to build the Saddleback Range. It was well before any other advanced peoples arrived, and nopony assumed it was something besides a range.” “How do I open the gates?” “I do not know. But supposedly there is a key built into the design of the city itself. As it is, I cannot unlock the gates. A pony or zebra must complete the task.” “Well, I see six mage-torch towers, which were used as both gathering areas--like the town square, I guess--and sephamores to alert the guard of possible threats. There were seven.” She scanned the darkness until she could just barely make out the shape of a tower. “And there it is.” Her horn lit with an azure flame that shot an arc ending in the center of the tower. With a muffled foomf, the top of the tower became a beacon of shimmering blue light like its six sisters. One by one, they then beamed magic at mirrors strategically placed on the cavern ceiling and showered the entire underground city in a bath of magelight. More mirrors, hidden from view, reflected some of that magic at seven points on the gates’ arched frame. This time, however, the magic had taken on individual colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Hitting their corresponding place on the arch, the colors formed a magnificent magic rainbow. “Woah.” Amethyst followed the magic as it formed an elaborate matrix of colors that fired across the cave in a single beam, hitting the rock just above her. Molten slag dripped down, but it soon stopped as the magic reached the mechanism behind the rock. Gears turned and belts whirred in a clanking that not even Canterlot could compete against. Then the three great hinges on each side of the gate frame began to spin, and she realized that they had giant gears tucked inside them. But they weren’t hinges. The gates, instead of turning, slid to the side, screeching against the walls. Judging by the gears’ positioning, the gates were perhaps twenty feet thick. “By Harmony, those are sliding doors? They’re huge!” A crack of sunlight burst between the gates, which had to have an overlap and built-in oversized peephole. The beam hit yet another mirror that split it in six, reflecting them into the massive gear-hinges. With a magic wonder, the light pushed the gears, opening the gates faster. Amethyst turned to the figure, but it had gone, dissipating into dust. As she shielded her eyes from the blinding sun, she couldn’t help but let a grin break across her face. Luna looked down at her temporary charge. The filly had curled into a ball and fallen asleep on her cushion. With a soft smile, the Princess of the Night set herself into a comfortable position and closed her eyes. “Sweet dreams, Flurry Heart.” Author's Note This one much longer to write than the others, partly because of school and partly because I was working on several other stories most of the time (they're not done yet, by the way). I hope you enjoyed this legend.
The Legend of Harmony WillowbarkA pink alicorn, no older than seven years of age, watched the sun come down, the moon rise, and the stars show their nightly beauty. Weaving through the sky, the auroras of the Crystal Empire swirled and sparkled, marking the end of the annual Crystal Fair. In the busy streets below her position on the balcony of the Crystal Castle, she saw the standard cleanup that always took place, dreadfully dull yet fascinating in how it was done. “Alright, Flurry Heart, almost time for bed,” a feminine voice called. “Coming, Mom,” Flurry replied. She turned around to see Princess Cadence, ruler of the Crystal Empire and her mother, walk gracefully to the balcony where her daughter stood. “You want another story, don’t you?” Cadence asked. “I love your stories, Mom. All full of magic and adventure and Aunt Twilight and her friends and-” “I know, I know,” Cadence chuckled. “I have a different tale this time.” She teleported two cushions from the family room and plopped them on the balcony. After a pause, they both sat. “Is this a good story?” “Yes, my dear, this is one of the most famous stories of all time - even more than your aunt Twilight.” Cadence paused, collecting her thoughts for the coming hours. Finally, she said, “There are thousands of things in this magical world of Equestria that captures the mind and imagination of fillies and gentlecolts, young and old, awake or sleeping. The great wizard Star Swirl the Bearded is an excellent example. The legend of the Elements of Harmony are another, as are the pasts of Discord, Celestia and Luna, and the Changelings. “But this is not about any of those things or ponies, although they may be mentioned once or twice. This a tale older than Equestria, older than the three Tribes that eventually united, and older even than some of our oldest cities. It is not as old as creation, but it does come close, when ponies first began to start civilization… A twenty-odd-year old Unicorn mare picked her way through the forest. It was not like any forest we know of today, with beautiful greens, ancient castles, ferocious predators, and the occasional patch of poison joke. No, this was much different from the modern Everfree. Instead of the Tree of Harmony glowing during both day and night, the cave had not even formed, much less the canyon where it lay. A river, more of a stream now, flowed gently through the soil-banked path it had carved for itself. In a few thousand years the river would reroute and go around to the Ghastly Gorge, but currently, it was here, near the meadow that the modern ruins fill. The mare herself had a twilight-white coat, silky silver mane and tail, and golden eyes. Her rough coat made it easy to forget that she wasn’t a tree, and her contrastingly soft mane and tail felt like a sheep’s wool jacket. Those beautiful, golden eyes, glowing like the Sun with the coolness of the Moon, finished her mare-next-door prettiness like a rose in your hair. Her cutie mark, now that was interesting: she is the only pony known to have all seven Elements of Harmony as a cutie mark. The Rambling Rock Ridge as we know it does not yet exist, and neither do the nearby towns of Dodge City, Ponyville, and Appleloosa. Many land formations have yet to come into being, including the rocky spire where Canterlot rests today. Instead, the entire center of Equestria was a massive forest stretching from Fillydelphia to Los Pegasus, from the Macintosh Hills, at this time a huge mountain range many thousands of hooves tall, to the Crystal Mountains, steadily rising from their craggy tectonic border. The mare wore a saddlebag, something improved on for millennia to us, and a sheath, in which sat a dagger. Now this dagger was typical for a mare to keep with her as she wandered about the forest, full of dangers not even the Timberwolves can rival. Saber-toothed Timber-tigers exist along with their normal prey, and terrifyingly large carnivorous plants like the horrid-smelling Flytrap, which has shrunk considerably in size today, saturate the land with their scent. As she continued to walk carefully through the forest, across the stream, and farther into the meadow, she cast a seeing spell. All around her, the view transformed into a bustling camp, where a couple dozen ponies had set wards and traps around fro defense. This camp was bigger than most, encompassing the entire meadow, and smoke rose from the many cook-fires used by the population. “Ah! Our Willowbark has returned safe and sound!” exclaimed a Unicorn stallion excitedly. She bowed her head for a moment. “It is good to see you walking again, Grandfather. The sickness we have endured is finally coming to an end.” “It is indeed, Harmony,” her grandfather replied. Then, more urgently, he asked, “Do you have the herbs from the northern forest?” “Yes, Grandfather, I do.” Harmony opened her saddlebag to show her findings. Buried deep under many supplies and other plants, a tiny bag was tied shut with a rope. She took it out with her magic and undid the rope, revealing a single flower emitting a soft blue glow. “The camps there were fighting so hard that they completely destroyed much of the northern forest border. This is the only one left.” Her grandfather tenderly took the plant in his own magic, cradling it with a deep purple levitation spell. “Then we must protect it with our lives until we can grow more.” Harmony nodded. “How’s Grandmother?” “She moved on the day after you left.” A tear rolled down her grandfather’s cheek. He’d been with the elderly mare for forty whole years of dedication, and her loss was a huge blow to him. “But she said she’s lived a good long life.” “Yes, that she did.” Harmony indicated a small plot of cooled soil with her hoof. “That should be the best spot for it. We’d best plant it now, while you can still teach me to grow it. Soon, the sickness will no longer take our family and friends.” “Woah, wait a minute!” Flurry said. “They’re scared of something like the flu?” “No, they aren’t.” Cadence took a deep breath. “This was much worse. We call it the Cutie Pox, and it has lost much of its severity in recent years, but back then it did not simply add more cutie marks; it instead took them away. It attacked the cutie mark and the magic surrounding it, eventually killing the affected pony as he or she was completely cut off from their mark. It was a grave disease, and we are just now able to uncover its grisly past.” “The Cutie Pox?” “Yes. Now, where was I?...” It took several weeks for enough seeds from the flower to scatter around in the cooler soil. New plants grew slowly, especially outside their native habitat, and this particular one was no exception. If anything, it grew even slower. After two months, the winter cold had come, and only four of the seventeen seeds had sprouted. Harmony Willowbark was a gardener. Her talent was farming. She and her grandfather tended these plants for years, eventually growing enough to serve the needs of hundreds of individuals. After her grandfather passed due to his old age, she continued to garden, this time to summon an apparition of him - she had never been able to say her final goodbyes. Harmony had realized the full potential of the magic within these plants, which grew best during the winter nights, and saw that they could indeed do anything if she had enough of them. Her full and prosperous life, inventing marriage, giving birth to three, and always finding time to care for the flowers, is an example of her dedication. Very few ponies have ever been able to surpass her in this aspect through all of time. However, what she accomplished in the end was what made her truly special. Harmony stood in the canyon, a thousand years after her grandfather passed away. A strange side effect of working with these plants was near immortality, so she never looked older than twenty-seven for the past millennium. Her duty now was to finish the journey, accomplish the task. But she did not. Over the past thousand years, she had learned to cherish those you love, and hold their memories in your heart. That as long as you did that, those who were gone could be brought back without magic, without them being there. The mind’s eye is a powerful thing, for with it one can see everything they’d done, everything they can do, and everything they will. They can see their past experiences, their joys and fears, their family and friends. So although she had the magic, the knowledge, and the will, she could not summon her grandfather’s spirit. There comes a time in our lives when we must make a decision that will affect all of time after us. Harmony Willowbark had made hers. With the honesty in her heart, the kindness and generosity she’d shown her friends, the laughter and joy of her past, and loyalty to her family in her mind, and the magic within her and the plants, she cast a single spell - not the dozen needed to summon her grandfather’s spirit. The vast sea of glowing blue flowers coalesced into a single entity which blasted a hole in the canyon wall and rested within. It formed a tree with five large branches and six magical gems, along with the marks of the sun and moon. When the blinding white faded away, the Unicorn mare was nowhere to be seen. In giving the future access to the powerful magic of the Elements of Harmony, she gave herself to the inevitable passing. She had become the Tree of Harmony. “Which is why we call it the Tree of Harmony today,” Princess Cadence said to her yawning daughter. “It is not that it represents harmony through Equestria. The Tree is Harmony Willowbark, and we honor her sacrifice by remembering her story.” “Do you think if we tried hard enough, you, me, Aunt Twilight, and Celestia and Luna, that we could talk to her?” Flurry Heart asked, turning over in her bed. Cadence smiled softly. “Probably. But we should learn from her example. Besides, I bet you can talk to her in your dreams tonight.” With that, she kiss Flurry Heart goodnight, turned off the light, and closed the door. Author's Note This story is quite the deviation from what I usually do, but hey, variety is good.
The Legend of the Gemstone Mine“For a thousand years, Princess Celestia has ruled over her subjects with benevolence and love. The magical land of Equestria has seen peace, with no major conflict or issue during that time.” “Except for that one time 500 years after Luna became Nightmare Moon and was banished. Yeah, that was a big one.” Twilight narrowed her eyes as she lowered a storybook with her magic. She was in her castle library, along with her niece and friend. “Seriously, Pinkie! You’re ruining the mood!” “Oh come on, Twilight, you know I’m right.” The princess sighed. “Yes, you are.” She looked at the seven-year-old Flurry Heart, who waited expectantly for her to continue the story. “However, I promised Cadence that I wouldn’t tell that story. Wait, which one are you talking about? There’s two major event from that year.” “The time Princess Celestia’s castle caught fire.” “Better than the other event, but still a bit gruesome. I’ll tell my story, if you don’t mind.” “Oh, yes,” Pinkie Pie said cheerfully as she read the book’s title. “Ooh, I love this one! Can I listen too? Pleeeease?” “Fine. just try to stay quiet. Where was I? Oh, yes. Here we are. “But before this time of peace and prosperity, Equestria was filled with many terrible problems. And so history would be like that, alternating between peace and conflict, each interval lasting only a few decades at most. That is, however, the legacy of ancient Equestria: knights in shining armor, awesome sword fights, and huge armies covering miles upon miles of open terrain….” Twilight had started to drifted off, imagining the great history which she loved to read. Pinkie tapped her shoulder and she came back to reality. She shook her head and continued: “But how did Star Swirl the Bearded, the greatest wizard of all time, find the potential of greatness in Celestia and Luna, who, despite being alicorns fillies, were the weakest ponies alive? Now THAT is a story of its own….” One thousand two hundred years ago, in the blistering cold of the Frozen North’s winter. A lone Unicorn trudged through the snow, clutching his long woolen cloak as close to his freezing body as he could. A pointy wizard’s hat, complete with golden jingle bells, was held on his head with his magic. The wind howled across the landscape, blowing sheets of snow into his reddened face. Above him, the overcast sky offered no consolation of the sun’s warmth. To the left and right, the only thing to see was unending snow in either direction. After another few minutes, he saw his target: a small cave, sheltered from the wind. At the northern base of the Crystal Mountains, small cave entrances like this usually held deep-running gemstone mines. He entered the cave and shook the cave from his long, brown beard. His head drifted from side to side as he took in his surroundings. Just as he thought, this was a mine entrance. Icy wood pillars supported the permafrost above, as with rock deeper underground. Abandoned mine carts full of frozen food and polished gems littered the floor. In the back of the cave, tracks led to an anchored mirage spell that hid the mine from curious eyes. The Unicorn was impressed. It took considerable magic ability, along with several anchorage gems, to cast such a spell. Judging by its deterioration, the spell was several years old. That alone made it even more impressive; anchored mirage spells typically lasted a few days at best, even for him. He walked through the magic mirage, feeling a tingling sensation as he did. It felt like he was phasing through solid rock. His vision went dark for a second as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting beyond the mirage. This mine was undoubtedly emptied. No lighting crystals were left buried in the walls, no torches, no nothing. Just him and the blackness. He cast an illumination spell. Almost immediately, the cavern’s hundreds of crystals reflected his face in a thousand directions. Except one. He walked down the dim hall, avoiding jumbled rocks and stalagmites in his way. His pace stayed slow, however, as the many crystals in the walls meant this was likely a criminal hideout. The jingle a cell door drew his attention. That was the mark of a prison cell, not a landmark sight in the gemstone mines of the Crystal Mountains, including all hideouts. He cautiously approached the source. It was a sleeping night-blue filly. She had the wings of a Pegasus and a long, pointy horn. She must’ve tossed in her sleep, causing the door to jingle. Beside her, a slightly older filly, with the same body build, caressed the younger one’s mane. This second filly was white, and awake, too. She looked up to the stallion with unforgettable pink eyes and said a single, tearful word. “Please.” “That’s so adorable!” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Pinkie!” “Sorry.” The stallion glanced around. He was alone with the two. His hoof went to unlocking the door, bashing the lock off with magic-boosted strength. The older filly flinched, but still hovered over her… The stallion assumed they were sisters. She did back off, thought, when he knelt beside her. “What happened to her?” he asked in a gravelly voice. “Luna’s cold. She’s cold and sick and she won’t wake up.” The filly had a colorful, soft voice, one meant to comfort yet still be dead serious simultaneously. “Then we must build a fire. Young filly, although I do not live in the wilds of Equestria, I still know that is the basic necessity for northern life. Were you not taught?” “No.” She was close to crying. “I only wanted to keep her warm and I didn’t know how to make a fire and she got colder and so I was next to her so I could warm her.” “Now, now, my little pony,” he soothed, running his gray hoof through her pink mane. “It’s okay. You can do this. Clear your mind. Think only of fire. Picture it in front of you, imagine the heat within you as a flame just waiting to escape.” The filly closed her eyes and concentrated. “Feel it flowing through you, like the magic inside, like the blood in your veins. Now, put it in front of you.” She scrunched her cute little face. Suddenly, the space immediately in front of her lit up in flames. Feeling the heat, she jerked her eyes open. There it was, a tiny fire. “I DID IT! I MADE FIRE!” The stallion grinned around his beard. “Yes, you did.” She moved the fire as close to her sister as she dared. Slowly, Luna opened her eyes. “Tia, I’m cold.” “I know, Luna, I know,” Tia replied as she hugged her. She smiled at the stallion. “Thank you.” “Tia and Luna,” he said, “where are your parents?” “I don’t know,” Tia whimpered. “They left for a trip up north. I took Luna away to protect her from bad ponies. Then we were taken here. I don’t know for how long. Then you came.” He stood. “Then I shall care for you until your parents do return. I am the wizard Star Swirl the Bearded, but you may call me Star Swirl.” “And so he did. For the next two years, he raised Celestia and Luna like his own, until their parents finally came home. Even then, he continued to watch over them, as a good friend this time.” “When they were old enough, he guided them as his prodigies. They learned the ways of magic from him and flight from a trusted Pegasus friend. Once they reached maturity, they realized their place as Equestria’s rulers. Had they not met Star Swirl in that gem mine, the world would never have received the benevolence they bestow on those around them.” “Celestia and Luna, daughters of circumstance.” Flurry Heart shielded herself from Pinkie’s waterfalls of tears. The Earth pony, on the other hoof, bawled, “That story is so adorable!” “Yes, it is, Pinkie,” Twilight conceded. “But its true nature is still unknown. Is it true, or was it crafted by our ancestors? “We may never know.” Author's Note What do you think? Was this legend based in reality, or is it a fantastical tale for fillies to believe? That debate may go on for a long time, because as Twilight said: "We may never know."
The Legend of Amethyst RoseA seven-year-old Flurry Heart bounced around Princess Luna, who tried to keep a straight face. It looked like Twilight when she’d gotten her cutie mark, or so Celestia claimed. Meanwhile, the alicorn filly yelled, “Story time! Story time!” “You must be quiet now, young Princess, or you will not be able to hear our tale.” Luna slipped into the “royal we” like she normally did when her tone became serious. “A tale like none other, we’re sure you will enjoy.” Flurry calmed down and sat on a plush velvet cushion. Luna did the same on a larger one, resting her tired legs. She usually never stayed awake past noon, but it was apparently her turn to foalsit. After a double-fun day in the Ponyville park, it was time to take a break in Twilight’s castle. “Now, young one, what stories have you already heard?” “Mom told me about Harmony Willowbark and Aunt Twilight told me about how you and Princess Celestia met Starswirl the Bearded.” “We see. Both of those are ancient tales, but good ones nonetheless. This next story is not as old as Willowbark but more well-known than my experiences in the Frozen North. Tonight, my dear filly, we shall entertain you the legend of Amethyst Rose.” “Who’s that, Princess Luna?” “Amethyst Rose is much like a freelance adventurer in a way. Her Unicorn magic allowed her to tackle difficult obstacles, and her inquisitive mind helped her to solve even the most challenging of puzzles. You could, technically, say that Amethyst Rose is the ‘prequel’ to Daring Do, although they are separated by more than a millenium.” Luna closed her eyes to recall the tale, as she had done every night to sleepy orphans through their dreams hundreds of years ago. “Unlike most classic legends of the ancient times, this tale does not start with a dark and stormy night. It does not begin with a scene of instant action to hook the audience into a fast-paced adventure. Instead, the beginning of this tale is beyond the two cliches of storytelling. “A mid-age Unicorn of violet coat, lapis blue mane and tail, and shimmering amethyst eyes approached the wall of intricately carved stone nestled in the rainforest. It was an active rainforest, full of life during both the day and the night, and the critters clicked, the birds chirped, and the insects buzzed nonstop. So thick was the air, so saturated with insects and vapor, that one could not walk four steps without accidentally swallowing at least one with the ragged breaths she took… The Unicorn mare stared at the peach-tan wall of stone before her. It was overgrown with decaying moss and creeping vines, with dark brown roots seeping deep into the cracks between bricks. The wall slightly curved away from her on both sides, each direction intervaled by ruined towers in various states of disrepair. Patches of auburn red showed her where the jungle had broken away the protective outer layers and revealed the hard-baked clay beneath. On the section before her, along with various other points on the encircling wall, were intricate carvings of a sort never seen by Equestrian eyes in over a thousand years. The Zen spirals and four-clover symbols were used to identify an ancient tribe of zebras that created various, but never before had they been found on buildings and walls. She pulled a scroll of spellworking paper from her saddlebag and magically inscribed the image into it. That would allow her to study it after the fact. Returning her attention to the image itself, she tried to understand its possible meaning. Well, I've already walked around this entire wall, and I know that zebras have always favored puzzle doors for millennia, she thought. But I've tried everything. She scrunched her eyes in frustration. “Harmony damn it!” she yelled, slamming her hoof into the inscription. Seemingly in response to her admonition, the image glowed green, and its Zen spirals began to spin in hypnotizing patterns. She backed away and stared. Had it really been that easy? “Amethyst Rose, the Equestrian who knows,” a voice rumbled from the spirals. “If your intent is to proceed, you must answer me these riddles three. Should you answer incorrect, from this jungle you shall eject.” “Ask away, spirit. I am not afraid,” she replied loudly. “Despised am I by knave and liar After me, the wise inquire I rise above all death and fire.” Amethyst blinked. “Despised by liars, sought by the wise, above even death and fire.” Her hoof scratched her chin, and one of her lapis blue eyebrows subconsciously arched. “Despised by liars… truth. The answer is truth.” “Very well,” the voice rumbled. “Remember the consequence should you fail, no spell can save you from wind’s assail: “Only one color, but not one size Stuck at the bottom, but easily flies Present in sun, but not in rain Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.” Her ears went flat. She’d never heard this one before. She began to pace, her mind racing against the imaginary clock she knew wasn’t actually there. “What could it be, what could it be?... Oh, come on!” “Is that your final answer?” “No! How could you think that? You're like my sister's shadow, always thinking too quickly. Wait…” “I can do nothing else.” “Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Amethyst stopped cold. “A shadow. That's my final answer. A shadow.” “Correct. For your final riddle told, a classic be unfold: “You can run, but cannot walk. You have a mouth, but cannot talk. You have a head, but never weep. You have a bed, but never sleep.” She blinked. “How can you run but not walk? It doesn't make sense.” “When in the perspective of its brothers, everything makes sense to one or others.” “Does the wall only talk in bad rhymes?” Flurry Heart asked. “Indeed it does, as do most other enchanted zebra artifacts. That has been the way of zebras for millennia, to speak only in rhymes, and their somewhat-sentient creations have always attempted to emulate their creators’ tongue. Most only succeed in rhyming itself, without the natural flow zebras know,” Luna replied as she levitated a cup of coffee to her lips. “Ah. I needed that. As for Amethyst...” “You can run, but cannot walk… run but can’t walk. Well, most ponies can walk. You have a mouth, but cannot talk… a mute? You have a head, but never weep… somepony who doesn’t cry? You have a bed, but never sleep… I don’t know of anything or anyone who wouldn’t sleep in a bed if she had one.” Contemplating the riddle, she knelt by a puddle of water surrounded by leaves and bumped it. The water flowed out swiftly and chaotically, like messengers rushing between generals. “Water flows fast,” she mumbled. Then it hit her. “Of course! A river runs. The mouth is where it meets the sea. The head is where it bubbles from a spring. And the riverbed is the bottom!” She stood triumphantly and strode to the wall once more. “It's a river.” “Correct,” it said. “But these questions you shan't forget, lest you never see the sun set.” At that moment, the rainforest around her morphed into a solid wall and ceiling of coarse-grained granite, with periodic blue mage torches illuminating the cave floor. “Welcome, Amethyst Rose. But much awaits you before your adventure draws to a close.” “WHO SAID THAT?” she cried, whipping her head to the voice’s direction. “I did.” A mysterious hooded figure emerged from the dim torchlight ahead. It had no muzzle, no nostrils, only swiveling, pointed ears and eyes that resembled spotless white marbles on its face, but had a very normal body, albeit one just barely darker than its eyes. “You’re kidding. You don’t even have a mouth.” “A mouth nor muzzle I do not need, as I do without, as per my creed. Magic takes the form of many things, and to understand, one needs not the voice of kings.” Amethyst put her hoof to her forehead and groaned. This was not what she expected at all. Noticing that the figure had begun to walk away, she followed it through the cavern. A few feet ahead, the mage torches lit; a few behind, they went out. Each pair of flames had a different pattern: one was a couple of roaring lions, while the next lit zebra guards, their ceremonial spears at the perfect vertical angle. “What is this place?” she asked. “How did I get here?” “Long ago, the zebras lived and prospered. But while they enjoyed a unified kingdom above, their most precious artifacts were stored with love. They hid these things from the blazing sun in hopes that they would not be stolen. To explain your arrival, a tribe must have remembered the olden days and connected their own small civilization with that of the original, their Zen Mother.” “You didn’t rhyme that. I thought zebra stuff rhymed all it could.” “There was no need to, nor was there a way to.” The figure sighed. “I have stayed here for nigh on a thousand years, wishing that the right pony would come along and bring these artifacts to light for all to see. But alas, I have not the means to open the great gates and set this free.” She raised an eyebrow. “There are gates?” It nodded. “Indeed, Amethyst Rose.” It gestured down a cavernous opening in the wall, where the ceiling reached a whopping one hundred fifty feet high, with dangling stalactites that drooled onto the stalagmite-infested lower jaw of the wolf’s mouth it resembled. With a wave of the figure’s pale hoof, the opening lit by way of six massive mage torches built like medieval-style lighthouses--giant pots held up by thick-walled towers with a magical blue flame burning eternally in their bowls. Around them, arrayed in peculiar Zen spirals, hundreds of cobblestone buildings sat: forges, homes, stores, and smaller torches all basked in the radiating magic of the towers. Beyond the mage-torch towers, a truly enormous stoneworks cast an unearthly shadow over the obsidian archway, skillfully crafted by the most talented of all zebra architects, that supported the rock above its sealed entrance. The obsidian had an iridescent glow about it, as if a lingering spell had been cast upon it centuries ago. “This can’t be in the jungle! The ground is too soft, the bedrock too deep.” Amethyst whipped her head to face the figure. “This… I’ve been searching for seventeen years for this place! This is the Lost City!” “Indeed this place is a city. But that does not mean it is lost.” “Nopony has seen this in thousands of years! How is it still here? Where are we?” “This city was designed to withstand five thousand years of neglect. Standing under the grand Saddleback Range of Saddle Arabia’s southeastern border, this was once the shining jewel of zebra civilization, but they returned to their more tribal ways approximately two thousand three hundred years ago, locking their great city behind an impenetrable wall of rock and calling upon the Zen to build the Saddleback Range. It was well before any other advanced peoples arrived, and nopony assumed it was something besides a range.” “How do I open the gates?” “I do not know. But supposedly there is a key built into the design of the city itself. As it is, I cannot unlock the gates. A pony or zebra must complete the task.” “Well, I see six mage-torch towers, which were used as both gathering areas--like the town square, I guess--and sephamores to alert the guard of possible threats. There were seven.” She scanned the darkness until she could just barely make out the shape of a tower. “And there it is.” Her horn lit with an azure flame that shot an arc ending in the center of the tower. With a muffled foomf, the top of the tower became a beacon of shimmering blue light like its six sisters. One by one, they then beamed magic at mirrors strategically placed on the cavern ceiling and showered the entire underground city in a bath of magelight. More mirrors, hidden from view, reflected some of that magic at seven points on the gates’ arched frame. This time, however, the magic had taken on individual colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Hitting their corresponding place on the arch, the colors formed a magnificent magic rainbow. “Woah.” Amethyst followed the magic as it formed an elaborate matrix of colors that fired across the cave in a single beam, hitting the rock just above her. Molten slag dripped down, but it soon stopped as the magic reached the mechanism behind the rock. Gears turned and belts whirred in a clanking that not even Canterlot could compete against. Then the three great hinges on each side of the gate frame began to spin, and she realized that they had giant gears tucked inside them. But they weren’t hinges. The gates, instead of turning, slid to the side, screeching against the walls. Judging by the gears’ positioning, the gates were perhaps twenty feet thick. “By Harmony, those are sliding doors? They’re huge!” A crack of sunlight burst between the gates, which had to have an overlap and built-in oversized peephole. The beam hit yet another mirror that split it in six, reflecting them into the massive gear-hinges. With a magic wonder, the light pushed the gears, opening the gates faster. Amethyst turned to the figure, but it had gone, dissipating into dust. As she shielded her eyes from the blinding sun, she couldn’t help but let a grin break across her face. Luna looked down at her temporary charge. The filly had curled into a ball and fallen asleep on her cushion. With a soft smile, the Princess of the Night set herself into a comfortable position and closed her eyes. “Sweet dreams, Flurry Heart.” Author's Note This one much longer to write than the others, partly because of school and partly because I was working on several other stories most of the time (they're not done yet, by the way). I hope you enjoyed this legend.
