Building Ponies

Thistle Burr stepped beneath the willow tree. The leaves rippled and danced overhead in the breeze. Water lapped at the shore and for a moment everything was peaceful.

Her ears pricked forward, listening to a whisper that was barely there. No words, only feelings.

She opened her eyes and leaned against the trunk of the tree. Another day dawning, another day closer to her second heat. Her tail lashed out against the thought but it stayed in place.

Even with the worry about the unicorns and the approaching Pegasus she hadn’t been able to forget about Woodpecker’s proposal. One moon of the three month trial period was already gone.

And every moment she had alone her mind galloped in circles. He wasn’t a bad stallion. In fact, he was a pretty good stallion. It wasn’t like she preferred anypony else so why was this so difficult?

Maybe it was the foal she really dreaded. Thistle knew better than anypony else the difficulties that came with pregnancy and foaling. She knew all the ways it could go wrong. She’d seen most of them in her tenure as healer.

The pregnancy itself was no laughing matter either. So much could go wrong in those first months. It was common for a mare to miscarry at least once in her life and sometimes the miscarriage could be deadly. She could do everything right and still be unable to carry a foal to term.

And things could go wrong inside too. Maybe the foal would be born with a weak heart or lungs. Maybe they’d be born deaf or blind or lame. A twisted hoof, cleft lip, a missing leg, or some other unseen disorder.

The birth itself was commonly difficult. Until she had her first foal she had no way of knowing how her body would react to foaling. Some mares spent hours in labor, others mere minutes. Some mares could laugh and joke through the whole thing, pausing only for contractions. Others cried in pain until she dosed them.

The foal could be breeched. Sun and Moon Above, that had been a terrifying ordeal and she’d lost dam and foal both that night. There had been nothing she could do. There could be tearing. Dams could lose a great deal of blood and medicine could only do so much. The cord could get tangled. The foal might be physically perfect and still never draw a breath.

And the dangers didn’t even end after the labor was over. Many mares got slight fevers after birth. The foal might not nurse correctly. The mare’s milk might not come in when it should or may not be enough. Foals grew sickly so easily. Colic, wisp breath, cold and heat were equally dangerous!

Thistle took hold of her thoughts and roughly shook them away.

Yes, foalbirth was dangerous. But mares a hundred years ago had done it and mares a hundred years from now would too.

So maybe it wasn’t Woodpecker or mating or being Lead Mare she was afraid of. Maybe it was just the foal.

She couldn’t afford to be scared of this. The herd depended on her.

She turned away from the willow and started making her way through the village. Mares with their young foals were stepping out of their homes to tend their gardens. Tiny snouts and little hooves and wispy manes and tails.

She’d delivered Busy Bee and Shaded Brook and been surprised at how quickly she loved them. Would it be that way with her own foal?

Actually, there was an idea. She changed direction to move towards her cousins’ house. She picked up her pace as the idea finished forming.

Ask Morning and Mountain how they felt before having foals. How had they felt when bringing in Hornet?

Their home was on the edge of the village, close to where the orchard began and near the path leading up to the graveyard and Gem Mountain. Cam was playing with the foals out front.

“Busy, you can’t climb on that!” Cam growled, attempting to get her brother down off the woodpile.

“Yes, I can!” He refuted, standing proudly at the top.

“No!” Cam looked ready to pull her mane out.

“Busy Bee,” Thistle trotted up and grabbed the disobedient colt by his mane and dropped him on the ground. “I’m pretty sure your Moms and Dad said you can’t climb the woodpile.”

“But I can!” He emphasized, throwing his hooves up. She poked him on the nose before he could work up a tantrum.

“But you’re not allowed.” She said sternly. “You could fall and get seriously hurt. And bad colts don’t get fruits with dinner. They only get grass.” She warned him.

“Cam, where are your Moms and Dad? I would think one of them would’ve poked their head out to see what the commotion was about.” She turned to the older filly.

“Dad’s on patrol and Mom and Mama are inside having sex.” Cam smoothed out her pink mane now that her brother was sullenly behaving himself.

“What’s sex?” Busy’s ears perked up.

“It’s what grown-ups do when they want to feel good and have foals.” Cam answered him absently.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because the herd needs foals. Adults have foals ‘cause they like’em.” She shrugged. “Right, Thistle?”

“Pretty much.” She nodded, trying not to smile at the simple way they saw things. “Any idea when those two will be done?”

“It’s been an hour so I dunno.” Cam shrugged again, looking over her shoulder to check that Shaded Brook was still playing nicely with her twigs. “Brook will wanna eat soon.”

“Then they’re probably just about done.” Thistle remarked, stepping around to the door and tentatively putting an ear to it. When she didn’t hear anything embarrassing she knocked on the door.

“Uh, just a sec! Don’t come in!” Mountain cried.

Thistle rolled her eyes. She could hear them scrabbling and splashing with the water pot to wash off. As if anypony outside other than Brook didn’t know what was going on.

“Busy! Stop! Climbing! The! Woodpile!” Cam’s scream was full of frustration.

“Busy Bee, you’d better listen to your sister or I’ll tan your hide!” Mountain wrenched the door open and yelled. A coltish yelp and the sound of a tumbling woodpile followed. “Ugh, why? Why did I say I wanted foals?” She dropped her face into her hoof.

Thistle cleared her throat.

“Eep!” Mountain flushed. She stared for a second before sighing in relief. “Oh, it’s just you, Thistle.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” Thistle withheld a snicker.

“Eh, we were just basking in the glow.” She gave an easy smirk and a waggle of her brows. She turned her head to address Morning. “Hey, Morning, Thistle’s here to visit!”

“Cursed Shadows, give me a minute!” More water splashing.

“She’ll be a minute.” Mountain turned back to her with another smirk. Thistle only rolled her eyes and waited for the actually mature mare to join them.

“Thistle Burr, always good to see you!” Morning’s cheeks were still a little red when they came outside to join her. “What brings you by?”

“Well, I just wanted to ask you two a few questions.” Thistle felt her own cheeks heat up. Sun and Moon, this shouldn’t be so hard!

“Yeah?” Mountain flopped down onto the ground. Morning leaned against her and soon all three were laying in the grass while the foals played on the other side of the house.

“What made you…” She struggled for the right words. “Was it…difficult to bring Hornet in when you decided to have foals?” She finally asked.

“Kinda, at first.” Mountain frowned, remembering. “It was hard to get…ya know, excited for a stallion at first. I mean, even now I usually need a little warm up first.”

“Less hard for me,” Morning shrugged thoughtfully. “Mares and stallions both get me excited, I just loved Mountain more.”

“D’aww,” Mountain gave a dopey grin until Morning shoved her. “You’re still carrying the next one.”

“Why do you ask?” Morning cocked her head curiously. Thistle flushed clear down to her hooves and said nothing.

“Ooohh, this is about that Woodpecker stallion, ain’t it?” Mountain grinned.

“Mountain!” Morning shoved her harder, causing the gray mare to roll over and have to right herself. “Thistle, you don’t have to mate with him if you don’t want to. I know there’s a lot of pressure on you but you’re young, you’ve got time. Mountain and I were mares for over a year before we even considered foals.”

“Is he getting too touchy with you?” Mountain suddenly straightened up, all serious. “Because if he is I’ll introduce him to my hooves, no questions asked.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Woodpecker.” Thistle sighed. “He’s not really the part I’m worried about.” She paused to reconsider. “Well, not the main part anyway.”

“Oh, is it because it’s your first time?” Morning asked her. “That’s really nothing to worry about, even if neither of you know what you’re doing at first.”

“You should really be warmed up before any sex with a stallion.” Mountain warned her. “If there’s no slick, then it burns going in. Some mares are into that, but definitely no good for a first time. And if he tries to tell you that mares can’t or don’t need an orgasm, then kick him between the back legs.”

“I’ll…keep that in mind.” Thistle buried her face in her hooves.

“There’s a little nub on the vagina near the end that feels really good, and there’s a spot inside that feels amazing if you’ve got a mare friend who can reach it with her tongue or if you have a stallion with good aim.” Mountain continued, utterly unashamed of the conversation topic. The worst part was that she wasn’t even teasing anymore, just giving a factual list of tips to make sex enjoyable for mare and stallion.

“Stop, just…stop.” She whimpered. If her cheeks got any warmer they’d burst into flame. Even her mane and tail must be red by this point.

“Is there anything else you wanted to ask us, Thistle?” Morning showed her mercy.

Thistle took a few moments to try to forget everything Mountain had said.

“Well, uh,” She looked up gingerly and jumped as Cam came running around the house with Brook on her back.

“Mom, Brook’s hungry!” She announced, depositing the filly at Mountain’s side before running back to Busy Bee. Probably to stop him from climbing the woodpile again.

Thistle watched Mountain nose the filly into place to nurse. Mountain’s smile was much softer this time. Morning even leaned over and nuzzled the filly as she ate. For a moment, both mares were lost in their own little world. Nothing but them and the hungry foal.

“Oh, sorry, Thistle.” Morning giggled. “You were saying?”

“Uh,” She looked at Brook again. “I think I got what I came for.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was kind of funny how quickly the days were passing. When she was paying attention it felt like the Sun would never set. When she was distracted she could look up and find herself surprised by starlight.

The day was half gone when she finally made it to Pink’s house. No major emergencies today. The Leadership meeting was later. She should really stop by Holly and Marsh’s house before then.

Thwump!

Thistle nearly jumped out of her skin. That sounded like something large had fallen. She picked up the pace, suddenly worried.

“Pink! Pink, are you—!” She froze in her tracks. The big birch wood tree stood to the far left of the house. Pucker used the stumps around it for practice but Pink had decided to leave the biggest tree standing. Right now, she was standing at the foot of it looking up into the branches as if she wished for a torch to burn it down.

“Uh, Pink? Are you alright?” She approached slower now. By Pink’s hooves was a door, but this one was made of young trees strapped together with boughs. Some rope lay tangled atop it. “What’s this?”

“A door.” Pink snarled, still scowling up at the tree.

“Okay…” Thistle looked up. The lowest branch was half a body length higher than their heads. “And this door…it made you mad with the tree because…?”

“Uuurrggghhh.” Pink growled, turning and bucking the tree soundly. She took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to smooth her braids.

“This door is a practice run for the big door for the Wall.” She explained.

“Ah,” Thistle nodded without any real understanding.

“The door has to be strong enough to keep a bunch of ponies from kicking it in, but it’s also gotta be easy to open and close so we can get in and out of the village, right?” Pink gathered up the rope, straightening it out into two long strands. She tossed them over the lowest branch until their ends dangled by her face.

“To make the door strong enough I figure we’ll have to make it out of tree trunks. Bound like so.” She grabbed both ropes in her mouth and pulled until the door was hanging up, resting lightly on the ground. “We’fe gotta ma’e it sho it can’t be ofened from ou’shide doo.”

She leaned far to the right, close to a large rock she’d pulled up to the tree and tied one rope to it. Then she walked to the left and tied the other rope to a rock she’d pulled there.

“These rocks are kinda like counterweights, they keep the door closed.” She explained. “Then, when you want to open the door, just untie the ropes and presto, big open doorway!” She beamed. A few strands tugged themselves loose from her braids.

“Sounds simple enough.” Thistle nodded along.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Pink suddenly scowled, face going red as she turned and pointed at the door. “I will figure you out, you Shadows Cursed thing!”

“Ooo…kay.” Thistle tilted her head. “What’s causing the issue?”

“Do you know how heavy one good sized tree trunk is?” Pink deflated.

“Pretty heavy.” Thistle had seen ponies carrying them to be chopped up for lumber. It took two mares or one healthy stallion to move a tree once it had been stripped of branches.

“Yeah, and this big door would be, like, ten really big tree trunks.” Pink sat down and huffed. “So, once the big door is open, how do you close it again?”

“Well, a lot of stallions pulling at once could do it.” Thistle suggested.

“But how fast?” She fretted. “This Wall, this door, it’s meant to keep other ponies out so they can’t hurt us or steal our food. And if they get in, they could hurt some of our ponies.”

“Take out the ponies closing the door, and suddenly the whole bad herd can just trot on in and we’ll be trapped.” She finished.

She hadn’t thought of it like that. She’d only thought of walls as something used to keep things out. Like bad weather, wolves, and bad ponies.

“I’ve got the basic concept for a door,” Pink took a fortifying breath and stood. “Now I just need to make it even better and figure out a better way of opening and closing it. This thing won’t beat me.”

“There’s nopony else who could ever do the things you do.” She laughed.

“Heh, you got that right.” Pink smoothed out her braids again. “Hey, what do you think of putting the door on the western side of the village?”

“Near the forest.” If the village line ended a bit beyond Soft Touch’s hut that would make her home the first place anypony would pass. It also put the storehouse near the center of the village. “Sounds good to me but you should probably ask the Leads what they think.”

“I’ll ask’em tonight.” Pink decided. “Maybe I’ll even be able to come up with a better design by then!”

“And in the meantime?” Thistle asked.

“In the meantime, I’m about to go see how everypony on the Wall is doing. Wanna come with me?” Pink chuckled.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“It’s really coming along, isn’t it?” Progress slowed as ponies had to boost each other to reach higher, but the foundations were all laid and now the portion nearest Gem Mountain had some height to it. By this time next year it would encircle the entire village. Protecting them.

“Yeah,” Pink sighed proudly. “And Morning told me we should have another cart ready by noon tomorrow!”

“Healer, good day to you.” Onyx greeted her politely. “Pink, I was hoping I’d see you. I’ve got an idea for the Wall.” He gestured for them to follow.

“Unicorn herds travel over mountainous terrain fairly often, and when they reach a spot too steep for easy travel, they find stepping stones.” He started explaining, leading them to a pile of cast off rocks. Some rocks had broken into pieces too irregular or too small for Pink to use and had been piled up to be dealt with later.

“Stepping stones, like over a river?” Thistle raised one of her brows in confusion.

“More like, this.” With his magic, he held up three stones and lined them up in ascending order, each one bigger than the last. “Ponies would then walk on them to reach high or low places safely.”

“And you want to make these stepping stones for the Wall?” Pink checked, scratching her chin.

“The Wall, by your specifications, is going to be wide enough for a pony to run along.” He reminded them. “I figured you’d like some way for a pony to get up and down easily.”

“Huh,” Pink looked at the rocks, then measured the height of the unfinished Wall with her eyes. Her eyes widened. Slowly, she turned her head, following the line of the Wall’s foundation all around the village. Thistle exchanged a look with Onyx but he didn’t seem to have any idea what was happening either.

“Yes! It’s brilliant!” Pink whooped, grabbing Onyx and pulling him around in a jubilant circle. “Arrange these stepping stones in the right places, we’re going to need more clay cement, I’ll talk to Clay Hooves! And it solves the tower problem! I might actually get that done before next summer! Oh! Oh, and, Thistle!” She whirled around and grabbed Thistle, who yelped.

“This solves my big door problem!” She cheered.

“I’m. happy! For! You!” Thistle bit her tongue trying to shake herself loose. “Please, stop spinning meeee!”

“I didn’t think she would get this excited.” Onyx offered by way of apology. Once Pink had stopped spinning her, she’d taken off for…something. Thistle hadn’t quite caught it.

“Yeah, well,” She checked her braids. “That’s Pink for you. I don’t know how stepping stones solve all her problems, but so long as she’s happy I guess it’s okay.”

“Stairs.” Onyx corrected absently.

“Say what?” Thistle blinked. Onyx’s mouth dropped open and then clicked shut. A lesser stallion might have blushed.

“That is, these aren’t really going to be stepping stones, as such.” He coughed awkwardly. “They’ll be permanent, fixed, a tad carved perhaps, they’ll be something new. And I’ve noticed, when your ponies come up with something new, they name it. That’s my name for these; Stairs.”

“Stairs,” Thistle repeated. “Well,” She looked around. “Pink’s gonna get back sooner or later with whatever she ran off for. Maybe we ought to see about getting some stairs started before she does.”

“That might be wise.” He admitted. “Alright then, time to bring an idea into reality.”

“We lay the foundation first, right?” Thistle found the biggest rock in the cast off pile and rolled it free.

“Er, yes.” He looked at her in confusion. “Do you mean to help?”

“I know it’s been a while since I’ve done any construction work, but I’ve a strong back and sturdy hooves.” Thistle chuckled. “Just tell me what to do, Onyx. You already have more experience than I do.”

“Ah, I see. Then yes, we lay the foundation first. Here, along the wall. I’ve already marked the spot.” He showed her.

“Oh good, you’re laying foundation!” Both jumped in the air as Pink returned, bearing a large pot on her back. “I’ve got the clay cement! C’mon, everypony!”

The Wall curved, naturally, in order to encircle the village. It was difficult enough to get rocks to fit together without making sure they had flat tops to walk on. Onyx narrowed his eyes at stone after stone, choosing only the ones that would be easiest on hooves. Occasionally he muttered something about smoothing them down.

Thistle moved rocks where she was told and held them in place while Onyx or Pink slathered them in clay cement.

“Somepony needs to come up with a better way to carve rocks.” Pink declared after they discarded a dozen rocks before finding one that would do. “Something better than what Rose Bud does for the gravestones.”

“Well, when you find something that’s harder than rock, I’ll get somepony on it.” Thistle snorted.

“I’ve seen ponies break rocks to move them more easily or to make those stone tips for your spears.” Onyx commented. “I think there is a way to carve rocks. I’ll have to think on it some more during my free time.” He grunted and lifted another rock with his horn. “Next time I have free time at any rate.”

“It’s almost mid-summer, free time’s in short supply and only getting shorter.” Pink shook her head sadly. “Until winter anyway, but then nopony’s gonna want to be out in the cold.” She perked up suddenly and turned to Thistle.

“By the way, what are those herbs that help you conceive again? Pucker and I are planning for my next heat and that’s in a moon so I want to have a few around. Hopefully by this time next year, I’ll be a dam!” She grinned excitedly.

“Really?” Thistle lit up a little. With her own worries it was a little hard to remember that most mares looked forward to their first foals. “There’s Mare’s Delight, you know those little three stemmed plants with the red bulbs on the tips? Eat some of that for the week before and during your heat and that should encourage conception. Or red clovers and red raspberries work too, but those grow deeper in the forest.”

“That stuff grows in shady places, right? Guess I’ll have to find time to take Pucker into the forest.” Pink laughed.

“Hmmph,” Both mares turned to look at Onyx, catching him rolling his eyes.

“Something wrong there, Onyx?” Pink raised a brow in warning.

“Get a couple of mares together and all conversation turns to foals and heats.” He shook his head. “Is that all mares talk about?”

“So the stairs and work talk doesn’t count as conversation to you?” Pink huffed. “And Thistle’s the healer, if I need an herb to do its job, of course I’m gonna ask her about it.”

“What else do you use herbs for besides causing or preventing conception?” He challenged. Pink opened her mouth to answer, but this argument had officially entered Thistle Burr’s domain.

“Soft-Shoot leaves, mixed with purple oleander and a few other things, is used to treat venomous snake bites. A venomous spider bite is better treated with orange fluff-pods, mixed with water. The root of the loco-weed numbs pain. Dawn’s Glow takes away your appetite. Highland nettles, softened in water, are used to treat nausea.” Thistle began listing them, helpfully pointing out the plants she named and their places in her mane. Then, she turned so her tail was facing him and continued.

“Hollend’s hemp, causes vomiting. Foal’s Breath, causes hives when brought into contact with fur and skin. Poppy flowers, causes hallucinations and numbs pain, also good for putting ponies to sleep when mixed with water and Passion Flower or Magnolia bark.” Her mane for straight medicines, her tails for poisons. The only difference between the two was dosage. The Foal’s Breath, though useful for clearing out infection when made into a poultice, she kept wrapped in leaves to keep it from hurting her.

“There are all sorts of herbs that do all sorts of things. Even some magic ones I’ve found.” Like the flowers that glowed in moonlight in that one clearing. The Light-That-Wasn’t had changed all sorts of things.

“I can heal a broken leg, wrap wounds, treat illness and poison, and, yes, deliver foals.” She turned back to face him directly. “Of them all, foal birth is still one of the most dangerous, to dam and foal. There are a hundred and one ways for things to go wrong. Even here, even now. Eight ponies have died of wound or illness since we came to this valley, Onyx. Eight.”

“Every other pony buried in our graveyard died in foal birth.” She informed him. “Of coursemares talk about it! It’s something we have to live with, something we have to worry about and prepare for. And it helps when they have somepony who understands to talk to about it! Like other mares!”

“Conceiving? Is the easiest part.” She finished. “All it takes is a stallion and five minutes.”

Onyx looked…shaken might be a good word for it. Aghast might be a better one. His mouth hung open and he kept looking at her tail then quickly back to her face. It took him a minute to compose himself. Finally, he sat down. His ears drooped and he took a deep breath.

“I apologize, firstly, for upsetting the two of you.” He started. “I…I’ve never…I know of healing herbs and poisonous herbs because my sire pointed them out to me as he trained me to be a stallion. All stallions teach their colts this way. But the only herbs I’d ever seen a mare bother with were, well,” He made a vague gesture to indicate the kind of herbs he’d seen mares use before. He bit his lip and pressed on.

“Is foal birth really so dangerous? I mean, mares do it all the time.” His brows drew together.

“The mare can die, the foal can die, both could die.” Thistle sighed. “I’ve seen most of the ways it can happen. And even if both survive the foaling that doesn’t mean there aren’t complications. Pregnancy and foal birth puts a lot of stress on the body. It’s very easy to miscarry in the first few months, and deadly to miscarry in the later months. There’s just…so many ways for things to go wrong. And even if you do everything right, things still go wrong.”

“If a mare is lucky, if she’s healthy and the sire’s healthy, and she eats the right things and doesn’t stress herself too much, and if she’s lucky, then things can still go wrong. For no reason at all.” She grimaced. “No reason that anypony’s been able to figure out anyway.”

Onyx stared for a moment longer before dropping his gaze. He looked at the stairs instead. Thistle followed his gaze, taking in what they’d managed to do so far. The stairs were a head and a half taller than her now, nearly as tall as the Wall. To build any higher, ponies would have to climb them.

“Sheesh, gloooo-my.” Pink chuckled awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, Onyx, the next time you imply that foals and heats are all mares think about, I’m gonna whap you upside the head with a rock. Thistle, one day I want to talk about why you’ve got literal poisons braided into your tail. But today I want to finish these stairs so let’s stow away our gloomy thoughts and get back to work, ponies!”

“Right, well,” Onyx stood up and began to climb the stairs. “We’re just about finished, I think. This will certainly make building the rest of the Wall easier if ponies don’t have to climb on each other’s backs to do it.”

“Yeah, I’ve almost had to send a few to Thistle when they fell.” Pink nodded.

“Wait, what?” She hadn’t heard of that.

“They were fine! Nothing more than bumps or bruises!” Pink gave her a cheeky grin.

“If you two would be so kind as to concentrate?” Onyx called down to them.

The rest of the work passed in silence. Thistle tried not to stew on it too much. Onyx hadn’t meant anything by it, but the way he’d just…dismissed her healing knowledge? She’d worked hard to memorize everything Enduring had to teach her and healing had been such a large part of it. It was like, without ever meeting her, he’d insulted Enduring.

“Stars Above, you two have to see this.” Onyx jolted her out of her thoughts. He’d stepped off the stairs and onto the wall. Exchanging confused looks, Pink and Thistle joined him.

Walking up stairs was interesting. Not unlike the smooth ramp of dirt that led down to her cellar. She felt like she’d trip if she tried running on them though. And with all the bumps that would not be a gentle fall.

At the top of the stairs, they could see down and around the village. She could see the graveyard from this point of view, and the path to Gem Mountain, becoming more well-worn every day. Along the Wall she saw ponies working, building it up and talking to each other.

Over her shoulder she saw the village. She could see Holly Berry and Light watching the herd’s foals. True Blue was in her garden with Bluebell. She could even see her hut, including the slumped part of her roof that looked like it needed repairs.

“It’s like standing on Lookout Hill,” Pink took it all in. “You can see the whole village like this. Once the Wall’s finished you can walk along it and you’ll be able to see the fields from the southern end. The forest from the western end. The orchard from the east.”

“You Earth ponies will be able to see everything you’re building from here.” Onyx smiled proudly.

There was a flash. A familiar flash of Light-That-Wasn’t blinded them for a moment. And then it was gone, but in its place was a brand new magic mark.

“Shadows take me, what was that?” Onyx pranced in place. Thistle said nothing, eyes glued to his flank.

“Pfft! Congrats, Onyx, guess this means you’re officially part of the herd now!” Pink cracked up.

“What? What are you going on about? Did you see that? It was the same Light-That-Wasn’t that changed us!” He cried.

“And changed you again, Onyx! Look at your flank!” Pink fell to her knees, sides shaking in laughter. “It’s stairs!You have a stairs magic mark!”

“I do?” He nearly hit Thistle in his haste to turn around to check. There on his flank was a set of stairs, climbing ever higher. He gaped at it and then began desperately groping for his horn. Once he found it was still there he sighed with relief. “Well, now, what does this mean?”

“The Light-That-Wasn’t comes back to visit every time somepony gains their mark. The Light bestows it.” Thistle explained, feeling her lips twitching into a smile. “It comes when you discover your talent and purpose. Congratulations, Onyx, you are the second pony with a creative construction mark.”