Thursday, April 30th, 909 AB (Immediately after)

If it weren’t for the princess’s help, Cure is certain that cleaning up the mess from the train would have been a massive pain in the ass. Fortunately Sunny has the full authority of the princess as far as the Royal Guards are concerned, and after a couple thousand years of experience she knows how to get shit done.

Cure’s friends and family, minus his sire, were taken to the palace first. He’d completely forgotten to surprise them with the news that they were staying there because of everything else going on. At least he’d been present when they were told by Sunny that their rooms are waiting for them.

Thanks to Ed’s memories, Cure knows that children can get so excited they’re nearly drunk with euphoria. Alanna would get like that every Christmas Eve, after all. At least that high didn’t set in until it was about time for her parents to take her home, though, so Ed didn’t have to endure much of the unleashed, unfiltered craziness.

Despite how much he adores his friends, being stuck with eight excited (Heavy and Wind tried their best to maintain a cool facade), vibrating foals in an enclosed carriage for the thirty minute ride to the palace sounds like a special kind of hell to the colt. Thankfully his dam has the patience of a saint and volunteered to ride with them while the rest of the moms and his three sisters went in a second carriage.

A third, with equally heavy Guard escort, was required to transport his plants. He asked that they be put in a separate room for now, though he declined, for the time being, giving the princess any hint as to what exactly they are or what he can do with them. The fact that he used two to safely sedate and hydrate twenty six creatures should be clue enough, he figures.

Cure, Deed, Lucky, Arcane, and the other five security ponies stayed until the prisoners were loaded up. He accepted the necessity of staying with the guards, he just didn’t care for it. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he was cranky and overtired or he just wanted to be with his friends, but Cure had a hard time not doing something vengeful to the prisoners when he withdrew their IVs.

Initially the security team was going to take the rooms Deed had arranged when setting up the trip, as they had the sleeper cabs on the train, but the princess insisted they take the rooms at the Rosewood Canterlot hotel that the castle keeps on reserve for foreign dignitaries.

Cure had been under the assumption that most diplomats would stay at the palace, but in retrospect that was kind of dumb. Not every foreign diplomat that’s visiting is from a country that Equestria is on good terms with. Also, not everyone is here specifically for the princess herself. Though she is responsible for more than a single being probably should be, she’s not the only point of contact for everything that happens everywhere in the capital.

It takes four more carriages to transport the prisoners. The minotaurs were separated by necessity; apparently it had been quite some time since there was a need to detain so many beings at once and the normal prisoner transport vehicles weren’t designed for their body shapes. Mass-wise they’re not any larger than Deed, but the different configuration just took up more room, especially when placed in the regulation hoof and handcuffs.

Celestia’s captain, a beige unicorn mare named Stalwart Shield, asked Cure to remove those so the guard could affix their own restraints. The thick silk cords were very difficult to cut and he could take them right off, so he was happy to help. The only remaining issue was getting the luggage that had been blockaded by bodies to the travelers that were inconvenienced.

Royal Guard logistics officers took names, addresses, and hotel info when the railroad workers identified anyone that had stuff back there, so they would get their luggage later in the day.

The worst part of the fiasco came after the immediate issues were addressed. Once the prisoners were removed, the captain tried to piece together what had happened. Cure wasn’t about to share his full capabilities with the mare, so he intentionally left out details about exactly how he managed to subdue everyone. He didn’t think that was the important part and repeatedly insisted that information is irrelevant and the captain should focus more on identifying whoever sent the mercenaries after him.

With his sire backing the colt there was little she could do to compel him to give details. Especially since his argument isn’t wrong; with no injuries and no damaged property there was nothing she could point at to demand an explanation about.

The fact that the colt is a guest of the princess and insists he’ll share any details she asks means that, ultimately, if her highness deems the information important enough to share she will find out eventually anyway.

The whole episode took nearly three hours from the time the train rolled in around seven to when Deed and Cure were finally allowed to leave. The pair were loaded up and escorted to the palace, riding along with the captain and her lieutenant in an opulent royal carriage. Sunny had flown ahead a couple hours earlier once her captain arrived and was given her orders.

Cure had, over the previous four months, played out the sequence of events in his mind dozens, if not hundreds of times. He imagined the happy and excited look on his friends’ and parents’ faces as they rolled up to the palace. He could easily envision the joy they would radiate while being shown their rooms for the first time, or even the awe of just walking through the palace corridors on the way.

That the opportunity was denied to him, never to happen again left an angry, bitter feeling in his gut. The more he thought about it, the more furious he became until, finally, he felt a hoof settle on his withers and turned his head up to meet his sire’s concerned face. “Your… uhh… talons, son. And your eyes,” he whispers, trailing off while looking down.

Cure furrows his brow and looks, finding that he had indeed sprouted talons in place of his forehooves. Closing his eyes, he focuses on his mark. Not only does he have talons, but his eyes had slitted and his teeth had sharpened as well. He quickly reverts the changes, opening his eyes to wary looks from the two officers who had shifted slightly further away.

“Just overtired and angry about this whole mess,” he insists. Looking to the officers he explains, “I was up from midnight until about three dealing with the goon squads. As you can imagine, finding over two dozen creatures trying to foalnap you doesn’t result in the best night’s sleep. It’s not like I could completely fall asleep before or after, either.”

“Why was a foal dealing with any of that?” the captain testily asks, looking at Deed.

“Because I was the best pony for the job, captain,” Cure snaps out before his sire can answer. “Which do you think is better suited to deal with them, a foal who can knock everypony out harmlessly or a real estate pony? I could also ask why the three alleged guards on the train weren’t there instead, or were they not really guards at all, hmm?”

“Easy, son, calm down,” Deed insists, wrapping a foreleg over Cure and pulling him into his side. Meeting the unicorn's eyes, he seconds his son's assertion. “The colt’s talent makes it easy for ‘em ta knock somepony out without havin ta fight ‘em. He’s right. It was the best way ta get here without anypony gettin hurt.”

Fortunately the lieutenant, a light purple pegasus mare named Gliding Spear, isn’t completely oblivious and interjects before the captain lets her mouth get away from her. “Biomanipulation, you said?” Cure nods and she asks, “I get that could be used to render somepony unconscious, but how’d you tie them up like that?”

The distraction from the pretty feathered mare is very effective. Cure brightens up and spends the rest of the trip explaining, “Well you see silk is just a length of protein fibers…”

By the time the carriage came to a stop in front of the palace Cure was pretty sure he had made a new friend. The lieutenant apparently wasn’t only trying to distract the colt from her captain’s gaffe; she legitimately was interested in what all he was capable of. Though not her intent, she wasn’t foolish enough to turn down the beautiful flight suit Cure ended up making for her along the way.

She was a bit bewildered when he told her that he kept a compressed bit pouch full of “crafting material” even if he lacked both the spare zipper and the necessary crystal dust to get the suit up to his demanding standards, but he all but insisted she provide escort for he and his family when they return to the train station on Sunday. That, he told her, would give him an opportunity on Saturday to stop by a shop or two and get the last few things he needed to put the finishing touches on.

Deed was relieved his son chose to quickly move on from the captain's insinuation. In his opinion the mare’s question wasn’t out of line but given his son’s lack of sleep and overall angry mood the timing could certainly have been better. Fortunately he got the opportunity, before separating, to explain that his son was intensely protective of his family and, indeed, had not gotten enough sleep the night before, nor several nights prior due to his anticipation of some kind of attack.

Cpt. Shield accepted the explanation well enough. She looked a little envious of her subordinate, but her pride would never allow her to say anything. The pair departed upon their arrival to oversee the prisoners' incarceration and begin interrogations.

As Cure and his sire approach the palace the pair pause for a moment to take it all in. Cure can’t quite shake the feeling that the whole place looks nearly as cartoonish in real life as it does in the show, though he supposes that the bright colors and spotlessness are a lot easier to manage with magic like Prestidigitation and Cleaning.

Ed hadn’t seen many royal estates in his life, but he’s pretty sure purple colored stone wasn’t normal for places like Buckingham or the Winter Palace. It’s all very trippy and bizarre. Visually, it’s neat but the aesthetic isn’t what he would want for his own home. Of course the last thing he would want to do is offend his hostess, so he plays the part of an excited, awed colt as best he can.

It ends up being unnecessary at the moment, though, as a seemingly common guard comes to escort him and his sire to the guest rooms where his friends and family are awaiting their arrival. He's slightly disappointed at the lackluster greeting, but figures the princess is busy doing princess things or, more likely, dealing with the consequences of the shitshow that got dropped on her withers.

It’s nearly an hour before lunch when Cure finally separates from his sire just outside the door where the rest of the foals are gathered. Deed scoops him up, squeezes him in a tight hug, and tells him he “done good” keeping his family safe, even if no actual fighting was involved.

The reassurance that his sire is proud of him is comforting even if mentally, in many ways, Cure is an adult. Nopony is ever too old to be told their parents are proud of them, after all.

After being assured his plants are in the next room over, Deed goes in the door across the hall with his wives and daughters, and Cure enters the room with his friends. “Hey everypony,” he tiredly calls as he walks in the room.

The suite is quite a bit more than just one room. It’s a living room area, an enormous bedroom, bathroom, a balcony, and a small dining area that’s large enough for half of the foals to eat at the same time.

Most of them are piled on the two couches chatting away while Drift gives, Cure assumes, the hundredth retelling of her getting her mark. Heavy, Coast, and Wind are on the balcony looking out over the city, but they turn and reenter the room as soon as they hear the door open.

“Cure!” the herd replies in unison.

“It’s spreading,” he narrates in an odd accent. “Interesting. I wonder what the infection vector is. Also, ironic that the effect is to shout ‘cure’ all at once. As if they’re… looking for something to save them.”

Drift leaps and spreads her wings, meeting him halfway between the door and the couch with a warm, enveloping wing hug. “Stop being a doofus,” she insists, nuzzling into his cheek, “how’d you know I would get my cutie mark?! That’s supposed to be impossible!”

“What?” he asks, looking at the rest of the group. They’d gathered at the foot of the bed quietly listening in. “I mean… you said you wanted to travel and thought some kind of courier thing would be neat. I thought it was obvious?” he questioningly explains. “I figured if flying off a moving train up a mountain to make an urgent delivery from one of the most important ponies in the world to another didn’t do the trick then it wasn’t your destiny.”

She gives him a flat look, “I’ll let that one slide for now.”

He just smiles back, asking, “I haven’t even seen it yet, what’s it look like?”

Separating from the hug, she turns and shows him. Much like other marks of destiny, its design is rather basic. On her dark purple coat a simple, light brown box is depicted with two pairs of white wings stretched out, one ahead of the other and both seemingly propelling the box forward. Worth noting; the sets of wings have different designs with each matching the variable configuration modification Cure had proposed but not yet given to either of the pegasi.

“Wow… did you notice the wings?” he asks.

Excitedly nodding, she reaches up and prods him in the chest, “Have you been able to come up with anything? It’s been months!”

“Uhh… I have, sort of. It’s not quite so simple, though. The bones, muscles, and ligaments are largely the same between them, but feather placement changes, as does thickness in some spots. I would have to make some pretty significant changes to your wings to give you the ability to actually alter the surface shape and shift primary and secondary feathers enough to change the way air flows over them.

“It would take adding new musculature and additional feathers that you can fold up when switching to ‘falcon mode’ if ya know what I mean. I still haven’t even scanned a falcon, so…” he trails off with a shrug.

“Do it!” she immediately shouts, then nuzzles under his chin with a softer, more demure, “Please, Cure.”

He lets out a sigh and nods into her, sitting on his haunches and wrapping her in a chest-to-chest hug. “Sit still a sec,” he instructs. The other fillies, along with Heavy, watch in interest as Drift’s feathers reconfigure into the tightly packed, angular falcon configuration while new ones grow out, folding into place.

They can’t see the movement and alterations under the skin, but after numbing the region Cure is also adding a series of small muscles and ligaments modified with his tougher designs that are currently pulling the feathers into their configuration.

When he’s finished he asks her, “Okay, feel how this muscle right here,” he causes a small twinge in the muscle at her shoulder, “is drawn up?”

“Yeah?”

“Spread your wing and relax it.”

Nodding, she looks over her left shoulder, spreading her wing out wide and allowing the muscle to untense. As it does the feathers that are tightly pulled together relax, spreading back into the more eagle-like arrangement and giving the flatter, wider look. Her head snaps back to look at the colt and, before he can react, she’s wrapped both forelegs and wings around him and presses her lips against his cheek.

“Hey now, don’t thank me until you’ve tried it,” he insists, nuzzling against her. “I’ll change them permanently when we go back home but until we’re out of the capital I think it best to keep normal wings, okay?” She nods and the two separate with Drift immediately running to the balcony and leaping off. “Uhh… did we get permission to fly around the palace?” he asks the group.

Wind gives him a nod explaining, “Yep. They told us that as long as we stay out of the way of the patrolling guards that they’ve all been told we have free rein in the unsecured areas of the castle. Why do you keep calling it a palace?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Castles are military installations built for defense. This is a palace; a display of wealth with minimal security. That there’s a wall and barracks nearby is a moot point when there’s a couple hundred huge, wide-open windows and dozens of doors. I bet I could pretty easily get just about anywhere in this place that isn’t magically warded.”

“Ah… hey Cure?” she starts.

He just rolls his eyes, still sat on his haunches, and beckons her over with a hoof, “Come on.” The taller, older filly doesn’t waste a second stepping into the hug. “Glacial, you too?” he asks over Wind’s shoulder.

She thinks about it for a moment and slowly shakes her head no. “I think I would rather learn to fly with those at home. I don’t want to crash into the cas… palace or anything.”

“Good point,” he agrees as he releases Wind. Though she doesn’t give him a smooch she does still thank him and give him a departing nuzzle before joining her sister.

With the sisters out flying about the fillies all turn their attention back to the colt. “So,” Rising asks, “why did you have to stay behind?”

Cure lets out a sigh, walking around the left side of all the girls on the couch and hopping up to join them. He flops on his right side as he begins his explanation. “Mainly I had to stick around because they needed me to free the would-be thieves that came last night.”

Heavy and Coast hop on the other couch and, when they lay on their barrels side to side, get a curious look from the colt. He’s distracted when Dawn turns around and lays her head on his left shoulder. Ferric quickly moves behind him, laying on her barrel against his back. Her sister follows, laying across her withers while Rising climbs up on his left haunch and Glacial flops between his legs as the little spoon, pushing her head up under his chin and Dawn’s neck.

“I had changed one of my plants to act as basically an IV machine… do you all know what that is?”

Dawn nods, “Dam’s told me about them. She works with the surgical teams, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

She looks to the rest of the girls and quickly explains, “It’s a machine that feeds medicine into your veins slowly over time. They use them in hospitals for lots of stuff.”

“Exactly,” he agrees. “So my tree was slowly feeding them something like opium overnight to keep them sedated. I’d also hogtied them with silk cords so, even if they woke up, they wouldn’t be able to move. The guards that came didn’t have a good way to take the bindings off, so I had to remove that so they could use their own hoofcuffs and stuff. Also, using a drug like that; it’s not good for the body, so…”

“You had to heal the jerks that tried to come steal your plants?!” Glacial all but shouts.

“Eh, yeah. Basically. That’s the thing, though, ya know? Once you’ve beaten somepony you kinda hafta take care of them. Trust me, it was not easy holding back from doing something mean to them, but that probably would have gotten me in a lot of trouble.”

He feels Rising nod against his side. “I don’t think the princess would like that either.”

Ferric bumps his forehead with her cheek and asks, “How many were there?”

“Nowhere near enough to matter,” he answers. “I’d rather not say. I don’t want you all to think you’re in danger.”

“So, a lot?” Heavy asks.

Cure wraps his forelegs around Glacial’s chest and pulls her back against his barrel. “I guess it depends on your definition of a lot. More than one group, though, yes. Few enough I could take them all out without any actual fighting.” Hoping to change the subject he asks, “Did anypony tell you all what the plan is for the day?”

“Mhmm,” Dawn humms, nuzzling against the side of his neck. “There’s a small dining room down the hall where we’ll have lunch. Just us, Solar, Star, and your family,” she clarifies.

Coast picks up from there excitedly explaining, “The guard that brought us said we would be escorted to the throne room to meet her highness at four. She’ll be finished with court by then and we’ll be presented to her highness and get officially welcomed to the castle in a private ceremony afterwards!”

“Ceremony?” he warily asks.

“Not like that,” she answers. “It’s just a formal ‘hello and welcome’ thing. We were worried too when he said that.”

“Yeah, dude, the guard said it’s just how her highness formally welcomes important guests to the castle. Palace. Whatever. He said it would have happened this morning but because of everything,” he trails off with a shrug.

Glacial twists her neck so her cheek nuzzles into his chin. “Are we giving her the presents then?” she asks.

“Uh huh. Probably,” Cure quietly mumbles. The girls all trade looks and come to a silent agreement.

“Cure?” Dawn softly calls, nosing at his cheek. “We’re going to lunch soon. How about we take a nap afterwards? You seem pretty tired.”

“Okay. That sounds nice,” he quietly agrees, gently squeezing Glacial and nuzzling up into Ferric’s foreleg.

The girls continue to softly talk, but it all becomes background noise to the exhausted colt. Once again, it feels as if he barely closes his eyes before a knock at the door brings him from nearly asleep to only a slight stupor.

Lunch, while nice, wasn’t anything spectacular, to his disappointment. Cure suspected that what the princess told his parents months ago wasn’t an exaggeration. His dam was certainly delighted when he nuzzled into her chest and told her that her meals were just as delicious even if there was a wider selection of food presented. It was only lunch, though, not a big elaborate dinner like he was expecting would happen the coming evening.

Cure’s parents were invited to and elected to accept sitting in on Celestia’s court. He was invited as well, but he had plans for his official meeting with the princess, and didn’t want to tip his hoof off early, so he used his exhaustion as an excuse to avoid it.

After returning to his room with his friends they all piled together on the bed and took a nap, waking a couple hours later at three so they can all get ready to be officially presented to her highness. The foals all showered in the large, ornate bathroom. Even though it was big they still had to split into two groups. More or less completely acclimated to pony life, Cure doesn’t even bat an eye at the communal bathing anymore.

With all of the things brushed, dried, and otherwise prepared, the whole gang gathers in the next room over with the trees.

“So… are ya really gonna do it, son?” Deed asks, looking over his son’s grown out wings and horn.

“You bet. I can’t think of a reason not to. If anything, this’ll even further screw over those jerks that tried to come last night.”

Solar nods in agreement. “I’ve thought sharing everything with the princess is a good idea since the get-go. I say do it, Cure. I’ve got your back.”

The other foals all agree and cheer Cure on, especially Dawn and the pegasi. They’ve been wanting Cure to come out of hiding for the longest so they can go to the range and go flying without having to worry about a disguise or using an alias.

Vines and his moms all look on, the former a bundle of worry despite everypony’s reassurance. At least her son is looking his very best. His cerulean coat is immaculately trimmed and oiled. Small, decorative tufts of longer hair accent the tips of his ears, his chest, and hooves.

He has, for the first time she’s ever seen, added lighter and darker green streaks into his mane and tail. His large, pointed wings, while blue, sport a lovely dark green trim along the leading edge with a thin, lighter green trim along the trailing edge of each feather.

He’s even changed his horn a little, making it slightly longer than normal. Typically when he went to the range his horn was the same length as Dawn’s. Of course, he is slightly taller than her now, so an extra couple of centimeters doesn’t look too out of place. That didn’t stop Dawn or, oddly, Starlight from staring in slight awe for a moment, though.

Truthfully they weren’t the only ones staring; everypony was at least a little captivated by the eye-catching colt. He had spent time with each pony after their showers to give them the “straight out of the salon” look, but he looked more like he just soared out of some kind of fashion magazine.

“Alright,” he says, pulling Vines out of her thoughts. “I have half an hour to get these trees ready. Everypony remembers their flavor, right?”

At the round of nods, aside from Savvy, he focuses on the task at hoof. It only takes a few minutes to turn one of the shrubs into a hundred seeds, but the fruit he creates takes much longer. Just as he’s passing his sire the last set of fruits a guard knocks at the door to inform them her highness is ready to greet them.

The herd of foals all gather into a group with Ferric leading Cure as the senior most marked filly pursuing the colt. Drift takes her place on Ferric’s left and Dawn stands to her right. Rising and Glacial take his right and left respectively while Wind follows the younger crystal pegasus and Sapphire follows behind, bumping his haunch with the side of her head and giving him a big smile when he looks back. Heavy and Coast join to her right.

The parents do the same with Vines and Title to the front of their husband’s left and right; Lemon and Amethyst behind, the three dams carrying their daughter on their withers. Solar and Starlight stand slightly separated from the rest, though only a few hooves further away to show they are still part of the group.

The entourage is escorted through the castle, exiting the guest quarters, making several turns, and somehow ending up in the throne room reception chambers. With room to spread out the parents take the center of the group with the foals on the left and unicorns to their right.

The seneschal, if Cure has the right term, comes in and gives quick instructions on where to stop and how to properly bow and the correct address for the princess. The older white unicorn has obviously done this thousands of times, likely tens of thousands, because he seems to answer every possible question anypony could ask before they could even think to raise their hoof.

Solar had already given everypony the basics on address and bowing; a pony is to put their left forehoof forward, right front knee on the ground balancing on their cannon, or shin basically, with their head lowered but snout not touching the ground, eyes closed or cast down towards the ground. Unicorns are to turn their heads slightly right so horns are not pointed directly at the princess and pegasi are to slightly spread their wings in a gesture almost like a curtsey. No magic is to be used beyond simple levitation at any time inside the throne room.

Cure’s not sure he understands the horn thing. Obviously it’s meant to show that one is not a threat in any way, but it doesn’t really matter which direction a horn is pointing; there’s not a direct relationship between that and spellfire direction, after all.

He can only assume it’s some throwback to centuries or millennia ago and has evolved over time, similar to how the US military salute, as he understood, had origins related to knights lifting their helmet’s faceplate to identify themselves and show a lack of hostile intent.

He thinks back to the show and recalls that, in at least one memorable scene, Twilight did in fact lower her horn to fire blasts at the changelings, though in others she didn’t seem to point it in any particular direction.

In fact, during the invasion when Celestia fought Chrysalis she definitely did not point her horn at the queen, an inconsistency that stood out to Ed at the time. Perhaps, he ponders, it’s some kind of instinctual aiming mechanism that unicorns have baked in that he simply lacks and that only shows during high stress situations or novice fighters.

Neither Solar nor Dawn have ever shown a tendency to do that during their trips to the range, so it could very well just be a cartoon thing. He thinks the show depicted unicorns charging horn-first as well, but he knows from experience that if anything a unicorn will avoid melee and engage at range whenever possible.

Regardless, upon asking about giving gifts, the seneschal or steward advises that her highness be presented with them upon completion of introductions. When he notices the saddlebags that the parents are carrying he asks a guard to check their contents before allowing them in the throne room. It’s a good thing, Cure reflects, that they had surrendered the zebras’ items to Captain Shield, so Vines’ bag is only carrying her usual stuff and not who-knows-what kind of poison or caustic agent.

“Your majesty” is considered the most technically appropriate address but “your highness” is perfectly acceptable. Guests may switch to simply “princess” after the initial greeting, but her name is off limits without “Princess” immediately preceding it, and when speaking her name a pony should at least bow their head slightly.

Only a few seconds tick by, but the tension he feels causes the air to thicken into molasses. Though this will still be a somewhat private reveal, Cure is fully aware that this is it. The big moment he was afraid would happen eight months ago is now only seconds away. The last meeting with the princess went remarkably well. Nearly perfect, even.

He knows nothing bad should happen, but after months of concealing his capabilities he’s blasting them to one of the few beings that could easily stop him whenever she desired. Despite the unlikelihood of that happening, some paranoid, fearful part of his survival instincts scream at him to retract his wings and horn before it’s too late.

He closes his eyes, leans his head back, and takes a deep, calming breath. The gentle brushing of a cheek on his neck causes him to open his eyes, tilt his head, smile at Rising, and nuzzle the top of her snout in return. The two separate as the door opens wide.

The seneschal marches in before the group, and announces their presence in a normal voice that carries throughout the room. “Presenting Missus Spreading Vines, Title Search, Amethyst Blossom, Lemon Sweet, their husband Mister Clean Deed, their foals and friends, your majesty,” he intones, then drops in a shallow bow before stepping to the right, turning to his left, and sweeping his right hoof forwards, motioning for everypony to proceed.

To Cure’s relief, the only occupants of the large room are the princess, the steward, and approximately twenty guards standing at attention. A couple are just on the other side of the doors they’re walking through. Six more are arranged in two groups of three on either side of the ramp up to the throne. Another dozen are split between the left and right sides of the room near the walls.

Cure doesn’t notice any specific pattern with relation to tribe aside from the six stallions at the princess’s throne. Unlike the other guards, they seem less ceremonial and more “ready for business.”

The closest to the ramp are earth ponies with spears in their right hooves and large, round shields strapped to their left forelegs. The unicorns are next and, although they aren’t obviously displaying weapons, Cure can see a number of darts lining their armor on each side. The pegasi are the farthest in the formation with crossed blades slung across their barrels and the glint of steel barely visible beneath their wings.

With wings spread to nearly four and a half meters tall and standing atop the platform before her throne, Princess Celestia smiles down at the group as they march in slightly uncoordinated lockstep towards her. Cure once again can only marvel at her magnificence. Here, in the very heart of her demesne, she has no need for subtlety, no reason to be discreet. She isn’t sneaking off to quietly visit a secretive foal. She is radiance itself.

The very air carries her power like hanging pollen saturating the room; an ethereal mist of magical might eager to jump at the command of its master. Its flavor is warm, and seems to wrap the group in a comforting, caring embrace, gently nudging them to their place below Her Majesty.

Though there’s little time for observation and his focus is on the occupants, particularly the nearly glowing demigod towering over them all, it seems to him that the general look of the room is pretty close to what he recalls from the cartoon. The only glaring difference is the throne itself. It’s raised up slightly higher and is more like a couch than a chair.

It’s logical given pony body shapes; the high backing throne in the show never really made any sense to Edward given that a pony would be immensely uncomfortable, not to mention showing all their goods, if they were sat on their rear leaning back. The royal couch is every bit as regal and elegant as a ruler’s should be, though, despite the design clearly being made to be comfortable.

With how many hours she supposedly spends on the thing, Cure would hope that over the years she would have, at some point, hired a competent ergonomist. The practical side of his mind approves wholeheartedly of her choice. When one must use or wear something for hours on end, after all, comfort is king.

The group marches forward then, as a unit, comes to a stop and drops into a bow. Though a drill sergeant would scream their coats right off of them for the lack of coordination and timing, the group does a fairly decent job of matching each other, especially since most of them are foals that have to take a step and a half or two to keep up with the adults.

“Greetings, your majesty,” Vines nervously calls out.

“And greetings to you, my little ponies. Please, sta… WHAT?!” she suddenly shouts.

Time halts.

All eyes open and, still bowed, dare to look up at the princess. Celestia’s wings, previously open and spread up regally, are now cocked diagonally to the side and fully unfurled; a position the pegasi recognize immediately as shock or surprise.

It’s not difficult to figure out why; her eyes are locked directly on Cure. The colt silently gives thanks to Harmony he had the foresight to address all of his biological needs before coming, because otherwise he’s almost certain he would be pissing himself at the moment.

Celestia regains her composure, somewhat, and shakily continues. “Please, everypony, stand.”

Breathing resumes.

“Young Mister Cure Wave, could you please come forward?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees. Lightening himself, he rears back on his hind legs, hops, and gives his wings a flap, easily floating over the dark red filly. Conscious of where the seneschal said to stop, he approaches the ramp to the throne and drops into another bow. “Your majesty,” he respectfully repeats.

“But this morning… You didn’t…” she finally stops, takes a deep breath, and simply asks, “When?!” in a near shout. Cure can’t believe his eyes. The princess is fretting on the platform above and before him. She nervously shifts her hooves and her wings haven’t stopped twitching since he landed in front of her. The agitation is impacting the guards as well, as they look warily back and forth between the two.

Cure knows what she’s really asking, but he also knows that nopony should know, so instead of simply saying “I never actually ascended” he instead answers her like he assumes a typical colt would if being asked when he first started using wings and a horn. “Umm… months ago? Your highness? I try not to let everypony know I can fly and use magic, though. I figured I should tell you first.

“Only my friends and Dawn’s parents know, but I only let them in on the secret a little while ago. I normally hide them,” he explains, retracting his horn, then folding his wings flat against his body. Rather than reabsorb them he thins them as much as possible and has the outside layer grow fur to blend in nearly seamlessly with his coat. It’s far from a perfect disguise, but it’s much quicker than completely absorbing and regrowing the wings.

“I should have felt your ascension… I don’t understand!” The princess releases a loud sigh. Realizing he is still bowing before her, she rolls her eyes and, with all regal bearing abandoned, casually says, “Stand up, Cure. Unbelievable…”

She drifts off for a moment, shaking her head in contemplation while he does, keeping his wings pressed against his sides. “You know,” she starts in a teasing tone, “for some unfathomable reason I thought this would be a normal visit. Until earlier today, that is. I certainly didn’t expect this though. Go ahead and… reveal them.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore her majesty by being predictable, though,” he teases back while reverting back to his winged, horned state. The slight clinking of metal on metal and hushed whispers coming from the awestruck guards lining the room reach his ears. The six sentinels, now understanding the princess's agitation, relax back to a ready position.

“No. I suppose you wouldn’t,” she agrees. She walks down the ramp to approach him, quietly telling the guards to be at ease as she passes by. Unsure what to do, Cure simply stands there unmoving. He is once again reminded of how tall she really is when she comes to a stop in front of him and begins inspecting him closely. “Are you aware of your domain?” she asks.

The question causes some quiet mumbling amongst the foals, but fortunately they, along with the adults, all remain mostly quiet while watching.

Deciding to keep playing the role of the unaware foal, Cure cocks his head to the side and repeats back in a questioning tone, “Domain, your majesty?”

Waving away the concern with a flick of her wing, she dismisses the question. “I would not expect it to come to you just yet. I have my suspicions, regardless. It will come with time, do not worry about that for now.” Sighing again, she quietly says to herself, “This will change everything. I can’t believe I didn’t feel it.”

She pauses. Her face morphs to a look of pure fury, scowling while looking to her right and growing noticeably hotter all of the sudden. In barely a whisper, yet audible throughout the room she growls, “And they dared attempt to take you.” Cure can see visible lines of heat roiling off the princess as her mane and tail brighten and her eyes begin to glow in hues of red and orange.

He steps forward, ignoring the warmth, and places a hoof gently on her foreleg at the knee. “Princess?” he softly calls. The action snaps her out of her building anger, causing her to visibly calm. “Ya okay, boss?” he asks with a smile.

Sighing again, she nods. “Yes. Today has not gone according to plan.” Looking to the rest of the group she adds, “I apologize for my outburst. I welcome you all to Canterlot, and to my home. I am quite disappointed that your trip here was as… difficult as it was. Needless to say, we are thoroughly investigating and questioning all of those involved.

“Though there are some things we need to discuss, I did not feel they were urgent enough that they could not wait until after we met, aside from one.” She looks over the parents as she continues. “The minotaurs and a single pony mentioned a large being that I am unfamiliar with. A bodyguard, I believe?”

Celestia doesn’t miss that the parents’ and Solar’s eyes all briefly flick to Cure. She looks down curiously as he explains, “That was the trick I mentioned, princess. There is no two and a half meter tall scythe-armed creature wandering about your city.” He pauses and clarifies, “Well, I hope there isn’t. There’s none that came with us, at least.”

“Ah. I would like to see this trick at some point. Apparently it was quite convincing; the minotaurs at first believed they had awakened in the afterlife when they came to, having fallen in battle against a superior foe.”

Smirking, he replies, “Well to be fair,” he dramatically pauses while buffing his hoof against his chest, then inspecting it. “They did.”

The comment gets a loud laugh from the princess while she nods in agreement. “I suppose they did.” With a wistful look she smiles down at Cure. “Oh, I am so very tempted to tell them they were defeated by a foal not yet nine years old.” Turning to face the group she approaches his dam while finishing, “Regardless, I believe if I wait any longer for introductions it would be terribly rude. Mrs. Vines, you are looking absolutely radiant, dear!”

Vines absolutely beams at the compliment, ducking her head while smiling broadly. “Thank you, your highness! Only another month and a half to go!”

“Oh! Hello, little one,” the princess gently calls, approaching Title and Savvy. “May I?” she asks, pointing a hoof at the little filly.

“Of course, your highness,” Title excitedly nods.

Unfortunately, Savvy isn’t too sure about the boss lady. As soon as Celestia leans in to get a closer look she dives into her dam’s mane, hiding her face from the princess but leaving her booty sticking up in the air. Celestia coos gently at the sweet girl and gives her a ridiculous looking pout. Between the softened expression and the calming voice, Savvy pokes her head out, getting a nuzzle from the ancient mare and giggling back at her.

Turning her attention to Deed next, she gives him a sly wink and a broad grin. “Hello, Mister Deed,” she warmly greets. She keeps the tone from being overly friendly, but the effect, not to mention the picture Cure planted in his brain when he pulled his pranks months prior, causes the stallion’s mane to stand on end. He still nods respectfully and greets her in return before she moves on.

She moves down the line greeting Amethyst and Lemon more formally and congratulates them on their marriage into the family. She gets an eager nuzzle from Lotus but Cherry rears up and gives the princess’s snout a hug instead.

Of course, the foals are all getting steadily more excited as she greets everypony by name. Even Solar is a stuttering mess when she greets him as “Private Solar Strike.” Starlight doesn’t do any better, barely getting the greeting out before turning to Solar and quietly squealing “The princess knows my name!”

Cure gets it; he really does. He has Ed’s memories of people absolutely losing their fucking mind when meeting someone they idolized. To a large number of the ponies of Equestria, Princess Celestia might as well be Jesus Christ and Elvis Prestley rolled into one, so it’s not a huge surprise when they nearly explode in glee anytime she looks in their direction.

He can only assume his indifference to her is due to some misplaced familiarity he feels from Ed’s memories of watching the fictional character. It dawns on him that this is something to be a little careful about. He may feel like he knows her, but as she pointed out earlier that morning his behavior comes off as unusual.

Then again, she seems either fine with it or maybe even appreciates that he doesn’t behave like others do. He feels awkward enough whenever somepony gushes thanks at him, so literal centuries of bowing and ass-kissing has to be absolutely fucking exhausting to put up with.

Walking back to the front of the group, she surveys the foals and lowers herself to her barrel so as to not tower over them. Even laying down she’s about as tall as his moms, and that’s excluding her massive horn.

“Cure, come introduce me to your friends. I think I know everypony’s name, but I would be absolutely mortified if I were to error. Of course,” she looks at Dawn, “I recognize Sergeant Haze’s filly and the private’s sister. Dawn Glow, correct?”

Unable to find her voice, Dawn just dumbly nods her head, living up to her name by glowing in excitement.

“Yep, that’s my Sunrise, future battlemage extraordinaire.” The praise brings a beaming smile to the filly and, despite her diminutive height compared to the princess, she stands tall and proud, chest puffed out and chin held high.

“Fantastic! I understand she is an entrepreneur like yourself.”

“You bet. She’s enchanted a whole bunch’a crystals for your guards and emergency responders in Baltimare. Between the quicker response times and them starting to use the Origin Cell Plants the citizens of Baltimare can rest well knowing that if something does go wrong, effective help is on the way.”

“Brilliant!” the princess cheers. “I suspect that should allow for a significant change in operations.” She pauses to look up at the seneschal and asks, “Could you remind me later to reach out to Captain Stance and the Baltimare RHA? I’m curious if they’ve developed a new ER model that could be implemented elsewhere.”

Nodding into a bow, the aged unicorn replies, “Of course, your majesty.”

“Good thinkin, princess. Next to her is Ferric Shine; she wants to be a smith in the Guard someday. Check out this awesome staff she made me for Hearts and Hooves!” Cure reaches up into his mane and pulls the staff right out of the bit pouch pocket he keeps up there. The move is done so quickly and smoothly that the princess does a double-take when he hoofs it over to her, staring at him even as she holds the staff.

He continues on as if nothing special happened, ignoring her wide-eyed look as he starts talking about it. “The staff itself is a real beaut but that’s only half of the set. The stand has an intricate snake winding up with little half loops that the staff slides down into. The level of detail on the scales is phenomenal!”

“You carry it with you?” Ferric asks, voice full of joy.

“You bet, Red! I never leave home without it!” He takes a half step forwards and gives the filly a warm nuzzle. “Those jerks are lucky I didn’t bust it out last night ta try ‘n pound some sense into ‘em.” Both foals suddenly notice the princess leaning over Cure, looking intently at his mane. The room is otherwise quiet, aside from Title poorly holding back a laugh at the puzzled mare.

“I left the stand at home,” he flatly explains, looking up to the princess. “It’s not in there. I mean… I could show you what it looks like,” he suggests, crossing his eyes to look up towards his horn, “if that’s okay?”

Celestia holds a hoof up momentarily. Her horn flashes with some unknown spell before she gives Cure a go-ahead nod. As she inspects the slowly rotating stand she holds the staff up to see the entire work as a whole. “That is wonderful work, especially for one so young!” she compliments the blushing filly. “We will certainly be thrilled to have you, should you decide to join.” Cure nods in agreement, dispels the Illusion and, when Celestia passes him back the staff, gives it a quick twirl before sliding it back into his pocket under her watchful eye.

“Where…?” she trails off, still staring, then rolls her eyes. “Never mind,” she sighs out, looking to Ferric’s side at Drift. “I see the young mare that just got her cutie mark. Congratulations, dear.”

Like Dawn, Drift is struck speechless, though she manages a grateful nod and a shallow bow.

“Yep, Crosswind Drift. She was my first ever cosmetic patient and really helped drum up a lot of my initial business, accidental as it may have been. Her older sister is over there,” he nods to the white filly, “Wind Shear. Their parents are both guards in Golden Hills.” He spreads a wing out and tilts it down, pantomiming at Drift. She gets the message and quickly ducks down in another bow and spreads her wings wide.

“My goodness! That’s a lovely wing design, Crosswind! Your colors complement it quite nicely as well. I can see why you drew so much attention.”

“Thank you, your highness!” she replies before standing and taking a step back.

“Glacial Breeze is behind her,” he says, waving her forward.

“Oh, yes! I recently corresponded with your dam and granddam. I believe there are only a few dozen ponies out there that have your unique coats. It’s been nearly two decades since the last mare escaped and she was a retiree.”

“They were both super excited to hear from you, your majesty! Thank you for writing to them.”

When Cure waves to her, Rising steps forward next, staring at the princess with stars in her eyes. Cure introduces her when she’s too flummoxed to speak herself. “Rising Pitch is a budding musician. We have an end-of-year talent show at school and I’m not ashamed to say I groveled and begged for her to do a sax solo for everypony.”

“Wonderful!” Celestia cheers. “I’ve always wished I had the talent for music. Alas, the ability to carry a tune eludes me even to this day.”

“I’m sure you have a wonderful singing voice, your majesty!” the filly gushes.

Cure shrugs, nodding in agreement. “I would love to hear it someday.”

At the colt’s suggestion the steward quietly mumbles, “Please, stars, no!” while nearly every guard in the room cringes. Even the six by the throne shudder briefly at the suggestion. The princess’s wings droop and she looks down pitifully while pouting.

At seeing all the reactions, Cure turns back to the pouty princess and gives her an impressed look. “Wow, boss… You must really be something. Well, I suppose we all have our weaknesses,” he sympathizes, patting her shoulder consolingly. “I’ll let you know if I ever find mine.”

“I can hardly wait,” she flatly replies.

“I’m sure. Delta Coast is the filly with the pretty coat color over there,” he waves for her to come forward. “She likes drawing, so I’m wondering if maybe she’s gonna be an architect someday.”

“Hello, your majesty! I’m so happy I get to meet you!”

“And I’m thrilled to meet you as well, my little pony.”

While she’s backing away Cure looks to Sapphire. He waves to her and she nearly pronks her way to the front. “Sapphire Sprint is my energetic friend here.” He leans into the princess to whisper, “She’s a tad odd,” then more loudly adds, “Her dam runs a jewelry store in town and helped me a lot this last Hearth’s Warming.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Sapphire,” she warmly greets.

“Nice to meet you, your highness! Good color choice on the mane!”

Celestia giggles, nodding in agreement. “We nearly match, don’t we?”

“Mmhmm!” she hums while eagerly nodding in response before backing away.

“Wind Shear,” he waves her up, “I suspect is a future Wonderbolt. With the exercises we’ve been doing she’s gettin that wing power up there and her talent lets her make a turn so quick it’ll leave ya crosseyed.”

The compliments cause the older girl to blush, but she still gives a half bow and a respectful “Your majesty,” to the princess.

“That’s remarkable! I look forward to seeing your success, Wind Shear.”

“Thank you, your highness!”

“Last but not least is my bro, Heavy Lift,” he says as the gray colt steps forward. “Sorry for callin ya up last, bro. Ladies first, ya know?”

The statement gets an eye roll from his friend as he walks up to meet the princess. He apparently can’t think of anything to say other than, “My sisters are going to be so jealous I got to meet you!”

“Well then next time you visit perhaps they can come along. It is always such a treat for me to be able to meet the young colts and fillies that will, someday, help this nation continue to thrive.”

As Heavy backs away from the princess and rejoins the herd Cure clears his throat, getting a curious look from the princess. He moves so he’s standing a body length before her and drops into a formal bow. “If it pleases her majesty, my family, friends, and I would be honored to present to her a small token of our esteem.”

“My! So formal! Come now, rise,” she giggles while standing to her full height. “Cure, dear, you didn’t have to bring anything!” Despite her protest, Cure can feel the curiosity in her voice.

“Nonsense!” he declares, standing to his full, short, height. “Besides, I think you’ll change your mind once you see what we have. It’s in a spatial bag my sire’s carrying, so,” he leans right to look at the guards still standing at attention by the ramp up to the throne, “it was checked before we came in. Dad?” he calls over his withers.

Celestia meets her seneschal’s eyes and, by some unspoken command, he leaves the room only to reappear a moment later levitating a table. He sets it beside Cure, bows to the princess, and returns to his place by the side of the group without a word.

Deed had paused when the unicorn started moving, so now that everything is set up he comes forward and gives a bow, unsure whether he’s supposed to or not but figuring that if it’s good enough for the unicorn he should probably do it too.

He lays on his barrel next to his son so he can dig into the bag. Cure glances up and pouts at the princess, saying, “You can’t peek! It’ll ruin the surprise!” She giggles, but takes a few steps away, pretending to be looking elsewhere.

Using his horn to lay it all out, it takes Cure a couple moments to get everything organized. Once set up he steps to the side of the table and gives her a nod to indicate he’s ready. She turns to face him and waves her hoof for him to go on.

Deed moves back out of the way as he begins, “When we last met I gave you a small gift; one I hope you have had the opportunity to use on occasion,” he pauses at the gleeful smile and nod, smiling in return. “Nice! So, as you may have noticed I have kind of a theme going.”

“Plants?”

“You bet! Trees in particular. Dawn, Solar, and I, at one point, were chatting about how you have, no doubt, been given any number of priceless artifacts and such over your life. Dawn suggested that you may enjoy something you can grow yourself. Now, I suspect you have little free time to do so, but just in case,” he waves at the table with a wing.

The princess looks over the items on the table. She sees that Cure has arranged everything into two rows, each row having ten sets of items. Each set consists of five large, apple-like fruits of various colors along with five seeds roughly the size of an acorn. Sat at the front of each set is an index card folded in half like a small name placard.

Celestia takes a couple steps closer to the table to get a better look. When she reads a few of the cards her eyes bulge in shock, then she quickly turns to look at the colt in eager anticipation. “You didn’t!”

“Not alone, no. I had help. Lemon Sweet, in particular, was the creative genius behind many of them. Most are cake of the indicated flavor, a few are other desserts or treats like my bro’s over there.”

She moves close enough to the table and sits on her haunches, clapping her hooves in joy as she reads the names out loud. “Ah, I see. Heavy; chocolate chip cookie. Coast; blueberry muffin. Dawn; carrot cake. Oh my word! Wind, white cake with buttercream filling!”

“I thought that may be your favorite. Either that or this one,” he says as he points to the sign with his sire’s name on it.

“Deed, chocolate brownie! HAH!” Clapping in glee, she continues on. “Ferric; red velvet.” She pauses, looking between the named filly and the fruit for a thoughtful moment. “You picked desserts based on everypony’s coat?”

“Yup, mostly. Some were a little harder to come up with, like Drift and Glacial,” he explains, pointing at their signs.

“Hmm… Blackcurrant with lemon and blue raspberry. Yes, grape isn’t quite the right color and I’m uncertain why, but a grape flavored dessert strikes me as odd.”

“Yeah, I think grape juice would be fine, but not as a dessert,” he agrees. “Plus grapes are pretty good as is.”

“Pistachio?” she asks, looking at his own sign.

Shrugging, he sighs in defeat. “There’s only so many desserts in shades of blue or, in this case, green, so between Glacial, Coast, Saph, and myself… well,” he lets out a sigh. “I’ll not mention the other reason.”

“It’s ‘cause he’s a little nutty,” Sapphire sings out, drawling out the vowel sounds in nutty.

“And apparently I don’t need to,” he flatly comments, pressing on through the princess’s laugh. “Speaking of which, Saph’s is chocolate mint. There’s actually a few chocolate since, ya know… can’t have dessert without chocolate.

“Rising’s is a yellow cake with a chocolate flavored center, and by the time we got to Amethyst we kinda gave up on the coat theme, so we just went with a milk chocolate flavor. Heavy asked for his flavor, which works 'cause we couldn’t think of anything in gray and dark blue.”

“I see that,” she nods in understanding. “Black cherry cake and cinnamon bread for Mrs. Bloom and Mrs. Sweet’s daughters,” she comments, looking at the girls, then smiles before turning back. “Private Strike and Miss Starlight are strawberry and blackberry. Those do go well together,” she notes, turning to glance at the blushing pair.

“Yep. My dam’s is one we weren’t sure about for a dessert per se. I think it may be best with a meal instead of after.”

“Sweet lime flavored. Hmm… that could be quite refreshing if chilled on a nice summer day.”

“Exactly my thought. Or you may be able to make a smoothie with the fruit. I bet that would be good.”

“A… smoothie?”

“Yeah, you know… blend it up really good like a milkshake. Maybe squeeze the juice out and add some carbonated water to it to give it a little fizz. Or diced up in a salad. It’s quite a bit sweeter than an actual lime, as the name implies.”

“Hmm… those are excellent ideas. Now the lemon bars I am familiar with,” she says, glancing towards Lemon Sweet, “but I don’t recognize your mom’s flavor.” Pausing, she clarifies, “Oh! Apologies! I meant Mrs. Search’s flavor.” The two new moms just shrug in indifference. They know it’s an adjustment for everypony. The girls still get hung up calling Deed dad sometimes too.

“Cherry chip cake is delicious!” Cure declares. “It also has a chocolate flavored center because those two go together like peas and carrots, I’ll tell ya what.”

Amethyst scoots up next to her and plants a kiss on Title’s cheek, waggling her brows at the pink mare. Title giggles and gently bumps her away with her hip, careful not to disturb either of their daughters.

“And last, but certainly not least,” Cure declares, motioning to Savvy’s card, “cotton candy. We couldn’t think of anything better given her colors. Besides, I figure you must love the stuff,” he teases, looking up to her mane.

“Mmhmm. I ate so much of it my mane and tail turned into it.”

He takes a moment to look her over, voicing his own assumption. “Yeah, I kinda figured that’s probably how that happened.”

Looking over everything, the princess can’t help but smile broadly as Cure continues on. “Now these seeds will each grow a fruiting tree about the size of an apple tree. The fruit are pretty healthy, overall, and are packed with vitamins and nutrients and whatnot.

“You should probably limit yourself to ten or so a day because, despite them being overall good for you, it takes a lot of sugar to get the flavors right. I dunno, maybe check with your physician. Your constitution is such that it may not matter how many you eat. The trees will not produce more seeds, and that was done intentionally for one specific reason.”

She looks down at him curiously and he, in a serious tone, explains, “We want you to be a little selfish with these trees, princess. These are gifts, so of course you’re free to do what you see fit with them, but it is our hope that you, yourself, get more enjoyment out of them than anypony.

“We all recognize your generous nature, but you deserve something special. I may eventually make something like this for others to enjoy, but you work hard for all of us, as you have for over a thousand years, and you should let yourself be spoiled on occasion.”

She pauses a moment while looking over everything in thought. Smiling broadly, she turns to the group and ducks her head in a shallow bow. “Very well. I am sure I will get much enjoyment out of them, everypony. Thank you all so very much for the thoughtful presents. Though I will share the fruit on occasion, especially due to there being so many, I will have the trees themselves added to my own farmstead which supplies the castle with much of its food.

“I admit, I am quite eager to try some of these. Perhaps we could have some at dinner?”

“I’ll make extra for that if you’d like. With this many of us the slices would be tiny.”

“That sounds fantastic!”

“I’ll make a couple dozen of each and give ‘em to one of the staff when we head back to our rooms. If there’s any fruit you’d like more of just let me know; I can force my shrubs to produce any of them. Same if there’s a flavor we missed or if you find that some flavors are more popular and you need more trees down the line at some point, I can do that too.”

The parents had been slightly bothered by eating anything Cure produced from his plant initially. When he noticed their hesitance to try some of the fruits he and Lemon were creating he finally asked what the hay the issue is. Title, blunt as ever, told him she felt weird eating something that, even conceptually, is part of him.

Cure could see the logic, sort of, but he also had a valid argument that it’s only part of him through, essentially, a loophole in whatever rules defines one’s metaphysical self. It’s a piece of fruit that, if given a couple weeks, wouldn’t be part of him in any way, shape, or form.

It took some convincing, but eventually they relented when he pointed out he had no problem eating it and he certainly didn’t think of it as eating himself. After all, no part of his body was made of the same stuff fruits are and he is pretty sure nothing on him tasted like pistachio.

“Oh! Speaking of your shrubs, where are your trees? The virus ones?”

“They’re up in the room. I figured I would hoof those over tonight after dinner, separate from the presents.”

“Perfect! Speaking of which,” she looks over the group and raises her voice, “I would be thrilled if you all could join me for dinner in about an hour. Unfortunately, I do have some paperwork that needs my attention before I can relax for the evening. Somepony will come to escort you to the dining room in about forty-five minutes.”

At the numerous nodding heads and voiced agreements, the princess once again thanks everypony and asks her steward to make arrangements for the seeds to be delivered to her estate. With the meeting complete, the group is escorted back to their rooms. The reprieve is really only enough time for everypony to refresh themselves and shake off any nerves from meeting their idol.

After the short break, most of which Cure spends making fruit, the group is once again gathered and escorted through the labyrinth to a formal dining room. Celestia walks in the room just as they arrive and takes her place at the head of the table. Everypony else’s spot is indicated by the color of the napkin and the ring holding its fold in place matching their coats and manes respectively.

As the guest of honor and, presumably, an alicorn, Cure is seated immediately to the princess’s left. He notes that a raised, cushioned bench has been added to the foals’ side of the table so their chairs can reach the taller table. Ferric, Drift, Dawn, Glacial, Rising, Sapphire, Coast, Heavy, and Wind line his side of the table to his left with the opposite end unoccupied.

Vines gets the spot to her right followed by Title, Amethyst, Lemon, Deed, Starlight, and Solar. High chairs are sat to the right of the dams for their daughters as well.

“Come on in, everypony,” Celestia calls, waving for them to join her. “Tonight’s meal may be somewhat more informal than you were expecting. I know that many ponies have… expectations… of what a ‘Royal Dinner’ is like, but I do not believe that would be to your enjoyment. They’re far more droll and boring events than I prefer, I assure you.

“Don’t misunderstand, though. The food will be as exquisite as always, but I assume nopony was truly looking forward to trying to figure out which is the appropriate utensil for each dish.”

That’s a relief to everypony as best Cure can tell. He’d gotten a book from the library on proper etiquette just in case, but the whole thing seemed silly to him. Trying to follow some arbitrary rules when you’re eating and socializing sounds like, if anything, it would detract from the dining experience. It may be important if he were an aspiring diplomat or something, but he could happily go his entire life without worrying about what fork he’s supposed to grab.

As everypony takes their seats he gets a better look at the settings and decorations. Several hanging chandeliers provide plenty of lighting, fully illuminating the large room.

The table itself is wide enough that three ponies could sit on the ends; a necessity given the princess’s larger frame. It’s also very tall. Not only do the foals have a bench to sit on, but the adults’ side has one too, though it only raises them up a few hooves. Given that even Deed only comes up to the princess’s withers when she’s sitting, the boosters are a necessity.

On the table are shorter, though long, floral arrangements sat upon platters of gold and silver alternating with intricate carvings inlaid. Tablecloths are not typically used by ponies due to the ease of cleaning with magic, so it’s not strange that there isn’t one present. Each setting has the color coordinated napkins with a ring in their mane colors holding them in a flower bouquet fold sat upon a plate.

The plates are thin porcelain with ornate gold decorations along the outside with a stylized sun and moon opposite each other. Each is rotated so the sun points to the princess’s side and the moon to the unoccupied end, Cure notices. The plates and silverware, which may actually be pure silver, are atop white placemats, which also have decorative gold and silver threads sewn in, again, in a sun and moon pattern.

As the princess said, rather than the twenty-some odd utensils he’d expected, each setting has only a single fork, a tablespoon, and a butterknife.

“That’s probably a good call,” Title voices as she takes her seat. “I know Cure studied up but I can’t say I’ve ever been interested enough to learn.”

“It’s a little unnecessary,” Celestia assures her. “It’s even worse when meat eating beings are present. They have a variety of forks and knives specifically for the different meat textures,” she says, wrinkling her snout in distaste.

“You don’t eat meat?!” Cure dejectedly asks. “Why? Ya got the choppers for it!”

“Most other tribe members don’t, Cure,” Glacial gently reminds him.

“You’re just weird, especially for an earth pony,” Drift adds.

“You like meat?” Celestia inquires as the serving staff begin bringing out the hors d’oeuvres.

There’s five small samples of food; a couple sweet potato fritters with cheese and some kind of seasoning, some kind of carrot and nut flatbread thing, a few olives in some kind of weird cheese-like sauce, a couple spoonfuls of fried mushrooms in something like a buttery soy sauce, then a couple crackers with an apricot and cashew spread of some kind.

“Yep. Miller’s Diner in Golden Hills has the best blackened tuna you’ll ever have. Then again I haven’t had a chance to go to a griffon restaurant yet. One would expect they have some good recipes.”

“That is unusual,” she agrees, turning to the parents with a questioning brow.

All but Title shake their heads no. The pink mare explains, “I was getting cravings with Savvy. Cure said he read some recipes so we tried a few. I musta needed the oils or vitamins in it or something ‘cause the cravings went away. A couple of those were pretty good, especially the lemon pepper one.”

“Huh. As you observed, I do have an omnivore’s dentition, but I never developed a taste for it myself.”

“I bet it would be hard ta get it fresh this far inland anyhow, son.”

“Cloudsdale gets it somehow,” he points out.

“That’s actually one of the reasons the city moves about, Cure,” the princess explains. “In ages past the residents would nearly deplete a region’s fish supplies and had to frequently relocate so as to give it time to recover. Of course nowadays that’s more of a tradition with better food storage options and modern fish farms supplying the bulk of the industry.”

“I didn’t know that,” Drift whispers to Glacial.

The platinum pegasus rolls her eyes. “That’s ‘cause you’re awful at history!”

“It’s boring!” Drift shouts back, then freezes realizing everypony is looking at the pair, including the living piece of history at the head of the table. “Uhh, the teacher is boring, I mean! She’s all monotone and she makes you sleepy when she’s reading from the book.”

“Nice save, dummy,” her sister snarks.

“I remember you brought a history book over once to read together,” Vines reminds her.

“Right!” Drift shouts, pointing a hoof and nodding. “See, I think history can be neat but I would rather read it myself than have somepony,” she switches to a flat tone, “read it to me straight out of the book without any emotion like somepony has removed that part of their brain.” Done with her impression, she gives the table a challenging look, crossing her forelegs and daring anypony to argue.

“That does sound awful,” Deed agrees, breaking the silence.

Everypony can’t help but nod in agreement, though the princess is giggling slightly at the explanation. “I’m certain I can suggest a few books you may also enjoy, Crosswind. In fact, I will have a few brought to your room in the morning. You may borrow them, if you’d like.”

“That would be awesome! Thank you, princess!”

Cure has eaten all of the appetizers, finding that they were all pretty good except the olives. The cheesy texture on an olive just didn’t feel right even if the flavor was okay. The mushrooms were the best by far with the apricot cashew spread coming in second.

He noticed some of his friends trading one or another thing further down the line. Apparently he wasn’t the only one put off by the olive dish; Coast, Ferric, and Rising left most of it uneaten on their plates.

The parents were chatting with the unicorns and the princess about what they thought about the food while the staff switched out their plates to deliver their salads. Normally his family has mostly spinach with a few other fruits or veggies in their salads, but there’s a lot more variety in this one with sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, shredded carrots and cabbage, and the green and purple kind of lettuce he never bothered to learn the name of along with some other leafy greens he doesn’t recognize.

There’s a few dressings in what he’d always called gravy boats, one of which is a creamy garlic he decides to try. Sadly, just like at home, there’s nary a crouton to be found.

He also notes a slice of the sweet lime fruit sat atop and to the side; the bright green peel and equally bright yellow inside making it stand out amongst the rest. He takes a small bite, then hits the remainder with a Cooling cantrip, enjoying the chilled treat that tastes like a Sprite from Ed’s memories.

“So it is good cold?” Celestia asks, pulling him from his reverie.

“Huh? Oh! Sorry, I got a little distracted,” he admits, noticing the unicorns and his parents had glanced his way too. “Yeah, you were right; it is very refreshing chilled. I think my juice idea is the ticket with that one. I may need to change it to be more like an orange than an apple. More juice, ya know?”

“I bet yer great grandsire would love ta get his hooves on some of them flavors,” Deed observes.

“Strawberry Cream first pa,” he insists.

His dam shoots him a warning look. “You are not using your talent to make booze!”

“Not for a while, no,” he agrees. “Dunno what the big deal is,” he mumbles, stabbing a cucumber and taking a bite. He swallows and looks to the princess asking, “You mentioned a farm you own earlier. Do you have a vineyard also?”

“No, the food from the farm I own is only used to supply the castle. It doesn’t produce much; just enough for the castle’s use, really. It’s on a large plot of good land not far from here. I’m sure they’ll be very interested in the trees you made. That they’re shaped like apples is a delightful coincidence.”

“Oh, they’re Apples?”

“The farmers? Yes… do you know them?”

“Our teacher’s name is Polished Apple,” Dawn answers. “Is she related?”

“That’s an amazing coincidence as well,” Celestia notes. “They very well may be. The Apple clan is a large, thriving family… is she an earth pony as well?”

“She is,” Dawn answers while nodding. “We’ll have to ask if she’s related. I didn’t know her family is famous.”

His parents awkwardly continue eating, careful not to comment or react, though Deed does blush slightly. Sadly for him, one does not live for thousands of years by being unobservant. The princess stares at his sire, a fact that doesn’t escape his notice. His blush keeps deepening until, finally, Title bursts out laughing.

“Oh my,” the princess softly whispers, grinning knowingly. The utterance only causes the blush to deepen and her stare is noticed by the fillies.

“Why is Mr. Deed blushing?” Glacial asks. His ears are flat out red and angled back at this point.

Drift furrows her brows and looks between Dawn and Deed. “He blushed when you asked about your teacher. Did you date her before you met Mrs. Vines or something?”

“He couldn’t have,” Rising answers. “She just moved to town when Miss Shadow got married and left.”

Title is full-on cackling at this point. Amethyst and Lemon are barely holding it together, but they are visibly holding back laughter as well. Vines looks oddly happy with the arrangement, but then she’s obviously fine with Deed plowing other fields too as long as he clears it with her first. Maybe she considers being the first wife of a desirable, verile stallion a point of pride; a reasonable position given how many mares are not nearly so fortunate.

“Well, ya see,” Deed awkwardly explains, “what with there bein so many more mares than stallions, there’s an expectation, ya understand?”

The princess is watching the whole thing with a playful smile. She still steps in to give context though. “Mr. Deed is correct. Due to there being between five and six mares for every stallion, they traditionally have an unofficial obligation, of a sort, to help ease the loneliness that unfortunately befalls many single mares.”

She turns her head as she speaks, looking down the line of foals. “You are all still too young to worry about such subjects, though, so I would encourage you to speak with your sires and dams if you have any questions. That being said,” she looks to the parents, “I am very grateful for the kindness you show, even to those outside of your family. It is to be admired that you share so freely.”

Heavy leans over to Coast and lowly says, “She must be talking about sex stuff. That’s the only time my parents do the whole ‘don’t worry about that, you’re too young’ thing.” The blue filly is quick to shush him and ignores the giggles from Rising and Sapphire.

Glacial doesn’t pass on the opportunity, nudging Dawn with a wing and, when the filly looks her way, whispers something to her while she waves a hoof in the princess’s direction. Cure can’t catch what’s said, but the orange filly lets out a sigh and begrudgingly nods back.

“Isn’t sharing more of a generosity thing, though?” Cure asks. “I struggle with the distinction, to be honest. I told my parents once that generosity seems to me to just be a different kind of kindness.”

Celestia nods in agreement. “You are correct. The two are closely related. Though more of a philosophical question, I feel as if generosity is more appropriate when a physical object is given freely rather than emotional support. I realize the difference is rather arbitrary, but again, your observation of their overlap is correct.”

Cure nods in acknowledgement and continues, “Well the reason I brought up the vineyard thing in the first place is because I was wondering if you know anypony with a cutie mark specifically related to making wine… uhh… I forget the term for somepony that does that as a career.”

With the last few bites of salads disappearing the wait staff swoops in and starts clearing plates and replacing utensils with clean ones for the main entree.

“Vinter, I believe, is what you’re looking for,” she supplies, “though winemaker is also used for the profession.”

“Ah. Vinter. That’s it. Thanks, boss. So anyhow,” the ‘boss’ appellation gets a small smile from the princess, “my point is that there’s nothing wrong with usin special talents to make booze, ma.”

“You’re too young, sweetie. It’s fine if you want to do that when you’re older, but you don’t need to be some kind of booze baron before you’re even fifteen.”

“Well when do you think those vinters got their marks?” he asks. Looking to the princess he questions, “Presumably they got them before they turned fifteen, right? I mean, most ponies do.”

“Hey,” Title calls with a frown.

“Sorry ma, but you know I’m right.”

“You’re gonna feel awful if one of your friends gets theirs late and is self conscious about it,” she points out.

“Eh, I bet I can help ‘em get their marks. It worked with Drift, after all.” He points a wingtip down the table to the gleefully smiling filly.

“That is odd,” Celestia interjects. “Typically others’ destinies are, somehow, almost obscured to others. No offense, Cure, but you are very unusual in your ability to see that. And yes, I know of at least a hooffull of winemakers over the years that have gotten their mark before turning fifteen. A small taste of wine won’t hurt anypony, after all. Plus when sampling their wares they typically don’t actually swallow the wine.”

“Eh, some goes down either way. I could chug a whole bottle of straight ethanol and not a single drop of it would ever enter my bloodstream, though.” The princess recoils slightly at the very idea of doing that, but Cure carries on undaunted. “Regardless, I wasn’t plannin on goin to work with Grandpa Brick until I was older either way. Somepony’s gotta invent Dam’s Delight, after all, and I bet the boss lady wouldn’t say no to a nice Wedding Cake vintage.”

“I certainly would not,” she eagerly agrees. “Despite my years I still enjoy the sweeter concoctions. It is quite passé to freely admit such, but those ponies that enjoy the tart, bitter flavors can keep that to themselves.” Conspiratorially, she leans in to stage whisper, “Don’t tell anypony, but most of the wines I drink for pleasure are the least expensive ones out there!”

The giggle at the end strikes Cure as downright adorable. He’s delighted to see the princess enjoying dinner so much. He can only assume she doesn’t typically have a huge gaggle of non-judgemental ponies dining with her every night.

Conversation pauses as the staff bring out the dishes with the main course. It’s a dish that Cure isn’t exactly sure of the name of. It reminds him of something that Cyndi occasionally got from an Indian restaurant.

The entree has long, thick sticks of some kind of cheese lightly fried and laid across a rice casserole, of sorts. He can pick up a decent variety of spices and flavors; tomatoes, spinach, onion, garlic, ginger, cumin, chili, and turmeric stand out to his sensitive palate. There’s also a small bowl of a yogurt of some kind to the side, presumably to use as a dip.

Everypony else must be enjoying it as much as he is because conversation comes to a near standstill when they all dig in. The only sounds are spoons tapping porcelain and pleased hums of enjoyment, especially from the parents who are also taking advantage of the greatly enhanced senses he possesses.

“I hope you’re payin yer cook really well, princess,” Title calmly states, “cause… wow!”

“I hope she isn’t,” Lemon argues. “Maybe we can steal her… or him, away.”

He can’t help but notice several of the foals nod in agreement as well, nor can he say he disagrees with the candy mare.

The princess’s horn glows for a second and, blinking his eyes to clear his vision, Cure almost squees when he finds her wearing his mustache. “By my command, no stealing my cook!” the princess gravely orders. “It would be the most high of crimes, I assure you!” She doesn’t even bat an eye at the wall of pouts aimed in her direction. In another flash the mustache is gone and she’s giving Cure a proud look.

“Nice!” he comments, giving the mare an approving nod.

“Guess we’ll just hafta come visit more often,” Title replies with a shrug.

Celestia smiles broadly, nodding in agreement. “That does sound delightful. If only my schedule allowed for more social gatherings like this I would be quite pleased.”

Vines gives her a soulful look, saying, “I truly hope you do make time for yourself, highness.”

Celestia waves a hoof airily. “Oh I assure you, I find time to enjoy myself as much as anypony. It is sweet that you all care so much, but there’s no need for concern. I am very fortunate to have so many ponies that are worried for my wellbeing.”

“Cure said you probably work sixty to eighty hours a week,” Dawn softly says.

All eyes turn to the princess with questioning looks.

Squirming uncomfortably at the irrefutable accusation she explains, “I… may, on occasion, have to, technically, be ‘on the clock’ that much, but that’s usually only if you count things like… oh…” she tilts her head back in thought, “riding in a carriage on my way to a shopping plaza that I have been asked to cut the ribbon for, or visiting my school to teach a class there. If you count that I am, in a way, working, but I wouldn’t consider it work exactly.”

“Weird question,” Cure starts, “do you… like, collect a salary as a princess? I’d never even thought about it before.”

“I do, actually. I make quite a bit less than almost anypony at this table, I suspect,” she teases.

“A symbolic one bit annual salary?” he asks. She answers with a pout, telling him he hit the nail on the head. “Aww, poor Princess Celestia,” he sympathizes, reaching over to pat her hoof. “If you ever need a loan or see a really neat toy you can’t afford just let me know.”

“Does that make you kind or generous?” she asks in return.

“Both. And humble,” he answers with a proud smile. He tilts his head in thought and adds, “I assume you, or whatever fund you have that pays for your own expenses, gets some kind of royalty or commission from things with your image on them, right?”

“They do,” she confirms. “Once again, I am amazed at your business acumen, Cure.”

Shrugging he says, “It seems common sense to me. If you didn’t have some way of controlling what your own image shows up on, at least for commercial purposes, then it would look like you’re endorsing an item that may not be up to your standards.

“Glacial’s snuggle toy, for example,” he points a wing down the line. All eyes turn to the filly who starts glowing pink at the attention. “If it was poorly crafted or something it would damage the ‘Princess Celestia’ brand.”

“Aww, you don’t have one of my snuggle toys, Cure?” she asks in faux disappointment.

Shaking his head no, he apologizes to the mare. “Sorry, princess. As lovely as you are, an even more radiant divine beauty was the inspiration for my snuggle toy.”

She looks to her right, finding Vines with a brilliant blush, then turns back to Cure grinning broadly. “An excellent choice, Cure! A dam should be the most important mare in a young colt’s heart. Did you special order it?”

“Nope. Made it myself, just like Savvy’s plushies. I just cut stuffing into the rough shape of whatever, then wrap it in silk and compress it down.”

“Ah. Yes, I believe Lt. Spear was quite excited about the suit you made her. You’re not going to steal both my chef and the city’s second in command, are you?”

“No way. Loyalty is kind of a big thing for me. Quite possibly the most important thing, really. Something I’m pretty sure we agree on.”

“Oh?” she asks in a puzzled tone. “As I said earlier, I have always valued kindness and generosity, though.”

“Right,” he nods in understanding, “but tell me this, your highness… what’s one of the highest crimes any creature can commit against the country?”

It only takes a moment for her to realize what he likely means. “Treason?”

“Exactly. In fact, presumably somepony at some point considered it the highest crime that there’s laws for. It is, after all, the only crime I know offhoof which is not protected under attorney-client privilege.”

She pauses in thought for a moment considering the declaration. The colt isn’t wrong; if a pony confesses to their attorney about murder or other horrible crimes they can encourage them to come forward, but the attorney cannot simply turn them in.

Treason is not the same; an attorney that suspects their client has committed treason must report it. During the trial to prosecute the defendant the attorney they use for their defense may keep their conversation privileged at that point, though, unless a yet uncommitted crime is still in the works.

Cure continues despite her moment of thought. “I can mostly deal with, and probably be sort-of friends with, somepony who isn’t exactly kind, generous, or whatever. Betrayal, though…” he starts with his snout scrunched in disdain, “It would have to be a pretty inconsequential issue for somepony’s betrayal to not immediately and permanently end our friendship unless there’s one heck of a good reason for it.”

Celestia takes a moment to consider the colt’s stance. For a certain level of friendship he isn’t wrong. Celestia would probably label those ponies acquaintances rather than friends, but she supposes somepony doesn’t deserve to be without friendship simply because they struggle to exemplify some of the elements of harmony. “I suppose I can see your point. Just out of curiosity, what of honesty? Do you feel like that is an important quality?”

Cure waves his empty fork from side to side, weighing the question as he answers, “Circumstantially, yes. In many situations, however, no. The truth can be a very dangerous thing, after all. How many secrets do you keep, your highness?” he asks, waving his hoof to show he meant the question rhetorically.

“I would hope,” he continues, “many are known only to you and a few others. How to move the sun, for example,” he says, waving to her side. “We certainly wouldn’t want any random group of morons out there having that kind of power. Of course, honest doesn’t necessarily mean forthright, does it?”

Celestia smiles while turning to the parents and says, “I find this absolutely fascinating. I did not expect such strong and well thought out arguments to philosophical questions from such a young foal.”

“The colt’s got more opinions than I have hairs, highness,” Amethyst mumbles. Cure wolfs down the last few bites of his entree and looks down the table. Several of the foals are conversing amongst themselves or with Solar, apparently mostly about how his work is going in Baltimare.

Because he’s been so busy chatting with the princess, he’s one of the last ones to finish eating his entree. The parents have been done for a moment and, despite her larger portion, the princess only has a couple bites remaining.

“I see that!” she agrees, turning back to Cure. “I agree. Being honest does not necessarily mean volunteering information. Let me ask you this… have you ever lied to your friends?”

“No,” is his immediate answer. “I don’t think I’ve ever outright lied to anypony. I have made up backstories for some of my disguises, though, which I’ll grant was dishonest, but that was for ponies I’ll probably never meet again anyhow. As far as friends and family, I have dodged questions, withheld the full truth, or flat out told somepony I can’t tell them something, but I do my best not to be untrue.”

“So then you do value honesty?”

“Not directly. I view it as a form of loyalty, as a matter of fact. If Ferric were to ask me something that I felt she would be better off not knowing I would tell her that rather than betray her trust and lie. In fact, I did just that today when she asked about last night.”

Celestia turns her head slightly, giving the dark filly a questioning look. Very quietly, Ferric explains, “I asked how many ponies tried to steal his trees last night. He said he would rather not say; that it didn’t matter and because it may upset us.”

Cure nods in agreement, turning back to face the princess. “Exactly. A true statement but not forthright.”

As the princess pauses in thought the serving staff once again seem to materialize out of thin air, quickly and efficiently removing the entrees and leaving each pony with the planned dessert; apple pie, coincidentally, flanked on each side with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a large dollop of whipped cream on top. Spread out on the table are platters with slices of the fruits Cure had made as well.

The pie is pretty good but the part that impressed Cure more than anything is the fact that every slice was cut and brought out perfectly with no smooshing anything and none of the filling running out. The princess gives him a curious look when he stoops down to get a good look, so he shrugs and explains, “I’m tempted to steal that chef away after all, regardless of the hypocrisy or treason charge involved.”

“Should I get my mustache again?”

Sighing, he shakes his head no. “Nah, dam’s cooking is fantastic anyhow, as are Lemon’s desserts. I guess we’ll let you have this one.”

A few grumbles draw his attention down the line to Dawn and Drift sampling their own flavors. When they notice his stare, Drift explains, “I’ve never even heard of blackcurrant before and she doesn’t like carrot cake.”

Cure had initially suggested caramel for Dawn’s dessert, but it’s a well known fact that caramel is Cure’s favorite flavor. The parents suggested that associating it with Dawn, given her possessive nature, may further encourage what they see as a potential negative behavior.

“Mines really good,” Heavy declares. “So is the cinnamon one,” he adds, nodding towards a beaming Cherry.

“You should still try the different flavors,” Lemon encourages the fillies. “It’s not exactly the same as the real thing. For one the texture is different. They’re also a lot sweeter, mostly.”

“Blackcurrant is not a very popular flavor due to their tartness,” Celestia explains, “the sweet lemon pairing is quite delicious. They also can be harmful to other plants, particularly pine trees. I presume these aren’t so similar to the real plant as to have that issue?”

“Uhhh…” Cure stammers as he looks to his parents. They all shrug, apparently unaware of that fact. He looks back and says, “There’s nothing in these I’ve identified as being harmful to other plants. I got the flavor from a jam Lemon had in stock, not the plant itself. Maybe I could take a look at the real thing to figure out why that is?”

“Wonderful! I shall ask that a small shrub be sent to you. It may take some time to locate a farm that produces them, though. If I’m not mistaken they should be in their growing season right now.”

Starlight leans in to talk down the table. “Ours are really good, Cure, Lemon. These would be really neat as snacks at my events. When you decide to produce more, definitely let me know!”

“Thanks, Star!” Lemon calls back. She tells the table, “I wouldn’t mind adding some flavors at the store based off’a them, but business has been booming since we expanded our candy bar line. Maybe at some point,” she adds with a shrug.

“I feel I must thank you again for such creative and thoughtful presents. I’m certain the kitchen staff will be quite eager to experiment once those trees grow. Do you know offhoof approximately how long they should take to mature?”

After a moment’s thought Cure estimates, “My parents could probably have them producing fruit in a month or two.”

“That fast?!”

“Uh huh. Earth pony magic, ya know? You’d have to mind the soil and water but if ya dump enough magic in ‘em and you could be snacking on these every day by June.”

Celestia looks from Cure to the parents and back a couple times before it dawns on her. “Your talent?” she asks his dam.

“Mmhmm. We work in the garden and do a small ritual, sort of. My magic helps everything grow very quickly. The first time it happened was quite the surprise.”

“Fascinating… We tried for centuries to get earth ponies to embrace such abilities. So many refused, citing tradition or, sadly, distrust claiming that magic is only for unicorns. I would absolutely love to see it in action at some point if you’re willing!”

“We would be happy to demonstrate, your highness!” Vines eagerly assures her. She looks to her husband and wives and asks, “Do you think we could show her maybe Saturday morning?” When they all agree she turns back and adds, “If that would work with your schedule, of course!”

“Definitely! I’ll be sure to make arrangements. Would the castle garden be acceptable? I will ask the groundskeeping crew to plant a small section of flowers tomorrow for you.”

“Sounds good, princess,” Title agrees, the others voicing their agreement as well.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that too,” Solar calls. “I remember you mentioning that months ago. I’ve been curious about it.”

“I don’t get it, I thought only unicorns could use magic like that,” Rising comments. “Can any earth pony use magic?”

Celestia answers, “Ponies’ special talents are capable of bypassing normal limitations. All ponies are magical beings, but earth ponies express it more passively through greater strength and resilience or by their very presence helping plants grow. Cure’s special talent, for example, allows him to make changes far, far beyond normal. Mrs. Vines’ apparently enables her to share her magic with plants actively rather than relying on her presence alone.”

Cure asks, “Has anypony ever considered showing earth ponies or pegasi how to direct their magic externally?”

“What do you mean? Those that end up with an active ability like yourself do so naturally.”

Of all the possible answers, the princess simply not knowing that earth ponies and pegasi can actively channel magic was one of the more unlikely scenarios he envisioned. It is possible, he supposes, that if she was a unicorn before she ascended or always an alicorn then she would have never had reason to learn how without directing the magic through her horn.

That still doesn’t explain why nopony has wondered why earth ponies, pegasi, or other races can use crystals but not refill them. Common sense dictates that should be possible, but then again the “program” that lets somepony use a crystal doesn’t guide the user how to put magic in like it does provide the parameters for the stored spell.

“What about just learning to move their magic internally like unicorns are taught early? Has anypony tried that?”

“Early on after the founding of the country, yes. Members from all three tribes refused to implement teaching programs as part of the normal curriculum several times. The earth ponies legislators because parents didn’t want their foals to have to learn what they claimed were ‘unicorn tricks’ and the unicorns because they did not wish to, as they saw it, waste time teaching uninterested foals for little benefit. Or deal with belligerent parents.

“Pegasi representatives claimed they adequately use their magic when controlling the weather and, instead, insisted that any would-be funding be used for flight schools or weather systems. It’s been several hundred years since it was last attempted. Most unicorns learn early magic from their parents rather than at schools even to this day.”

“Wow… That is… Well, honestly, disappointing barely begins to scratch the surface.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Cure. I try to think the best of my little ponies, but when I see so many fighting what I see as progress I cannot help but wonder if I have failed them somehow. That you have succeeded where so many have failed tells me that you truly are special. And to do so at such a young age,” she stops, shaking her head and letting out a sigh. “I could not be more proud, Cure.”

Squirming uncomfortably, Cure can’t help but feel kind of shitty for deceiving the princess. Feeling as if the gig has gone on long enough, he tries to think of something to say that will tell her he did not actually ascend while still obscuring the depth of his knowledge.

“I don’t think I really did anything that special, given my talent, princess. I mean… once I had time to really look over at the difference in cellular structures figuring everything out was pretty simple.”

“Cellular structures?” she questions.

“Right. The different mitochondrial configurations between tribes found in our muscle tissue. And griffons, of course. I haven’t really had an opportunity to delve into the scans of the zebras, minotuars, or the dragon from the train this morning.

“I’m very interested in that last one. I can tell that their scales have some interesting properties but I’m not sure yet whether their magical resistance is a metaphysical protection or if it’s somehow a result of the different keratin structures and how they’re interlaced with, I’m guessing, different gemstone particles.

“I suspect it’s a physical property and is probably related to why dragons eat those things, though, because the highest concentration of mineral deposits are in their scales. Well, and their horns.

“I can say that their nerve composition is a lot different from ours and they do have a pair of chambers that let them breathe fire. I doubt I’ll be sending letters to anypony but if you want some s’mores or need a stove lit I’m yer go-to-pony. At least, I will be after some experiments, probably.”

Cure can’t help but notice that everypony but his parents are looking at him like he just completely blew their minds. His friends have all gotten bits and pieces of the lecture over the months, but he’s always given them the simplified version. Celestia, on the other hoof, looks like she’s seeing him for the first time.

“So, wait… your wings and horn… you grew them with your talent?!”

“Well, yeah. How else would an earth pony have wings and a horn?” he asks, looking down the line at the confused foals and shrugging at everypony. “You said a word earlier… is there a different way for ponies to become alicorns? I was curious about that when we met the first time…” he says, drifting off at her continuing stare.

Cure looks at his parents and his friends confused as to what he should do as the princess appears to be lost in thought. After ten seconds of silence that feels like an hour he finally softly calls out to her. “Princess? You okay, boss? Did I break her?” he asks the room, leaning over to pat her left hoof.

She looks down at his hoof when he makes contact, seemingly snapping out of whatever daze she was lost in. When she turns her head back up to meet his and everypony else's concerned looks she apologizes. “Please forgive an old mare her moment of consideration, everypony. I had not thought such a thing even remotely possible. Cure?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that something you are capable of sharing with others as well?”

“Slowly, a little every day over months, yes.”

She looks at the ponies in the room, noticing the unicorn siblings in particular looking slightly wary. “I see. Are the ponies in this room everycreature that knows this?”

“Dawn and Solar’s parents know that I can use wings and a horn. I don’t think it occurred to them that I could do the same for others.” Looking at the group he asks, “Y’all haven’t told anypony, have you?”

To his relief everypony shakes their heads no.

“Good. I may, for the time being, ask that you keep this information to yourselves, everypony. I cannot fathom the chaos that would be unleashed should word of this capability escape this room.”

That statement scares Cure in a way he didn’t realize was possible. He can only assume she means that the result could, somehow, be that Discord is released ninety some odd years before a counter to his abilities becomes available. “I have always emphasized how important it is to keep what I can do secret anyhow,” he tells her.

“That is a relief. Until I can determine what effect this would have on society I’m afraid that I must ask you to continue to do so. That’s not even considering what other races would do should they learn a pony is capable of duplicating their abilities.”

“I wasn’t plannin on offering that as a service unless ya told me to. In fact, what you said right there is almost exactly what I said months ago, wasn’t it?” he asks, looking at the other foals.

They all nod, Coast paraphrasing his argument months prior. “You said it could cause some kind of inter-tribal fighting or something.”

Celestia lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank you for that. While I would like to expect the best in ponies, I believe I would like to plan out the introduction of such a large societal change rather than find out from an advert in the newspaper.” The tone she finishes with is teasing despite the seriousness of her statement.

“Should I not, ya know?” he waves at his horn questioningly.

She pauses a moment in thought then slowly shakes her head. “You don’t have to, no. You figured out everything on your own and through the use of your own talent. We will discuss that more during our meeting.”

Celestia looks over the table at everypony’s plates. Most everypony has finished their dessert or appears to be satisfied. Conversation is slowing as food hits their stomachs and they get the after-eating drowsiness beginning to set in. Raising her voice, she gets everypony’s attention. “I believe everypony has had their fill.

“Due to the unfortunate events of this morning we need to have a meeting. It isn’t necessary that all of you attend,” she says to Vines, “but I will need at least one parent, Private Strike, and Cure present.

“For the foals I have asked the castle’s lead groundskeeper, Verdant Vista, to show you around the hedge maze in the garden. There are many interesting things to discover out there and, if you look hard enough, you may just find some hidden prizes!”

The parents converse for a moment, as do Solar and Starlight. Vines will take Savvy and she, along with Amethyst, Lemon, and the fillies, will join Starlight and the foals. Title and Deed stand and, along with Cure and Solar, begin to follow the princess.

Author's Note

So, there's chapter 1 of 2 for the day (as in the in-story day). If you can believe it, as it stands right now, this is the shorter of the two. We'll have the meeting/debrief next week.

Enjoy!

Edit - As Moonlight_Mist pointed out in the comments, I really should have worded this better. It was even worse before I changed it once. There will not be another chapter today, but this is the first chapter of two... or, technically, the second of three, I suppose... anyhow, this isn't the end of the day in-story.

Starting from about Chapter 20 on I tried to make it so that a single day is encapsulated in a chapter. There have been a few times where that made a REALLY long chapter and there have been a few where, instead, I ended up breaking the day into more than one. Usually because I spent so much time on a chapter I needed the extra week to not fall behind.

So just to be clear, the remainder of the day will be in Chapter 61 and will be published next Monday. Apologies for any confusion. It probably won't be the last time.