Saturday, May 2nd, 909 AB (The next morning)
Just after sunrise

The light tugging and nudging on his feathers slowly brings Cure out of his sleep. Face buried in Sapphire’s mane, it takes him a moment to process what’s happening and who he’s laying on. Heavy is laid on his back under his chest, bearing a good bit of his weight with no problem.

His aqua-colored friend is laid on her barrel facing the other direction and is using the gray colt’s left haunch as a pillow while laying across Cure’s forelegs. It looks uncomfortable, visually, but with earth pony toughness and an almost cat-like ability to get comfortable in any position, he knows she’s fine.

A familiar weight is on his own back as well. He’s kind of relieved their positions aren’t reversed because Dawn has all but mounted him. Her head is resting just below his withers between his wings and she has her forelegs wrapped around his barrel under them, or at least where they would be if folded.

Ferric is on her side in front of Cure, back pressed into her sister’s left side while holding Rising in a tight embrace. The yellow filly looks content being snuggled with by the stronger girl and they both seem fine despite Cherry and Lotus laying on top of them. Coast is laid on her right side facing away from the pair, her left side being used as a pillow and her tail crossing over Sapphire’s to drape across Heavy’s face.

Waking up to find almost every friend in a close-knit pile is a wonderful feeling. Almost as wonderful as the preening he’s getting from Drift and Glacial; their combined efforts are welcome, even if unnecessary, and are making it exceedingly difficult to come to full wakefulness.

The colt takes a deep breath, enjoying the pair’s ministrations, the scents of his friends, and the warmth of the surrounding bodies, content to let the girls have their wicked way with his wings. None of his feathers need to be pulled, but several have shifted out of place overnight. He can only assume they’re doing it to show affection; they know he can use his talent to accomplish the same thing in an instant.

In the back of his mind he can’t completely push down the thought; at some point he’s going to have to have a talk with them and any other romantically interested friend and reveal the truth of his mental shift last year. That’s not something he’s looking forward to, but it would be a terrible betrayal to enter into any relationship with them without sharing such an important part of his life.

The talk can’t really wait very long either. Drift and Ferric are both ten and have their marks. They’re a long way from being considered adults, but from about twelve on is when fillies typically start looking for prospective mates. That will be a social dynamic that changes significantly with the possibility of a longer life and more colts, but for his generation and, in all likelihood, the next, heterosexual mares will still have to struggle to find monogamous love.

Pushing thoughts of the future from his mind, Cure relaxes and spreads his wings further, giving the girls easier access to the layered plumage. After a few more minutes he feels Glacial gently nipping at the base of his right wing, prodding him to wake up. It dawns on him that they probably want to get moving for the day, and with his plants on sentry duty are leery of testing the room’s exits.

“Fine,” he quietly sighs, turning to meet the platinum filly in a surprise nuzzle. “Thanks, by the way,” he says, turning the other direction to greet Drift, “that felt nicer than I expected.”

“It’s relaxing,” Glacial agrees, “none of your feathers are loose, of course, but when you pull a loose one it has this feeling…” she drifts off trying to think of how to describe it.

“It feels really good, even though it hurts a little,” Drift finishes, “kinda like there’s this pressure that’s built up that you’re relieving.”

“Ah,” he utters in realization, “so it’s like letting out a big fart, huh?” Both girls squawk in indignation at first, but soon break into giggles, “or when you hold it too long and then finally do the whole ‘two minute pee’ thing,” he sagely explains with a knowing slow nod, drawing gentle wing slaps from the laughing fillies. “Ugh, speaking of which,” he says, looking over his withers at a smiling, content unicorn.

“She totally mounted you,” Drift giggles out.

“Aww, it’s adorable!” Glacial fondly agrees. “Look at that smile.”

“How are you going to get up?”

“Like this,” he says, using his horn and TK field to lift Dawn and Sapphire enough to wiggle free. Once unpinned he spreads his wings and floats straight up out of the pile, moving her forward to take his place. She stirs a little, but quickly settles, turning to her left slightly and snuggling into Heavy’s chest. The colt is happy to have a warm body on him and gently wraps his forelegs around her neck.

After a quick trip to the potty the trio start making their way to the door when he realizes somepony is missing. “Where’s yer sister?”

“Reading one of the books from the princess. They’re a little… umm,” she cringes slightly and looks to her friend for help.

“Dry,” Glacial tactfully supplies, opening the bedroom door and leading them into the living room area. Wind is laying on her back on a couch holding a book upside down over herself while reading. “They’re neat, I guess, but they read like our textbooks.”

“Eh, it’s been quite a bit since the boss lady has been a foal. Keep in mind she’s been around for like… eight or so times as long as everypony combined, including my parents, Solar, and Star, have been alive. She probably doesn’t remember having a short attention -”

Cure abruptly cuts off when the door opens and the princess strolls in. All three pegasi scramble, yelling out warnings, causing the mare to freeze in her tracks. Wide-eyed, she looks around trying to figure out why they’re shouting until she notices Cure’s plant behind her left flank by the door. Two armored heads poke around the frame briefly to see what the ruckus is as the princess casts a curious gaze at the snickering colt.

“’Mornin, boss. I set up a couple plants in case anypony barged in while we were sleeping. Of course,” he smugly looks over the three, “I made sure they wouldn’t do anything to anypony in the group. Or your esteemed self, naturally.”

“I see…” she says, turning to take a closer look at the plant. For the most part it looks just like the rest of them; a tightly coiled mass of dark, red vines with a layer of small, nearly black leaves. She uses a hoof to brush the leaves aside, revealing numerous pods lining the exterior of the vines and arrayed in an arc mostly pointing towards the entrance. “Paralytic?”

Nodding, he answers, “And soporific. Very fast acting.”

“Is it painful?”

“No. It shouldn’t hurt at all. Maybe like a pin jabbing you at worst, but it acts so fast I doubt it would even register.”

“Interesting.” Celestia takes a couple steps away from the door and turns to watch, calling out for her guard with a soft, “Corporal? Could you please come here for a moment?”

Before Cure can voice an objection the mare on the right comes trotting in the door. “Ye-” is as far as she gets before two loud pops ring out and dozens of darts blast the left side of her neck and barrel. Most hit armor, but a few find their way through gaps. The corporal drops like a brick as Celestia recoils from the noise and quick motion.

The small explosion startles the guards in the hall, prompting them to rush into the room to protect their godqueen. The first through the door is her other guard who only gets one leg in before she’s blasted too. Her hoof catches on her partner and, inertia being a thing, carries her somersaulting body into the room, sliding until it hits a couch and stopping on her back.

The princess only has a split second to stare wide-eyed at her downed guardians.

The clanging of an armored body on tile causes a huge commotion, panicking the remaining guards in the hall. As six more bodies rush into the room the plant goes full automatic, firing pod after pod at the uninvited invaders.

In only a few seconds from the initial shots going off, eight guards are laying asleep on the floor in a path of bodies. Like the second one, a few that had gotten up to speed and are piled by the couch a few body lengths into the room. A sweet, woodsy scent fills the air, as do particles of shredded leaves that had been blasted everywhere and are drifting to the floor like confetti.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” Cure flatly observes. He and the fillies approach the downed guards and pan over the group, casting accusatory looks in the gawking princess’s direction. “Jeez, boss… that was kinda mean.” Cure barely finishes the sentence before the parents’ door across the hall is flung open, as is Solar’s and the door to the bedroom he’d just left his sleeping friends in.

With eight disabled guards and eighteen sets of eyes looking on amazed, Celestia grimaces and surveys the chaotic scene. “I… had not anticipated the noise,” she sheepishly admits. “Or the speed and avidity with which it reacted. Are they unharmed?”

Cure can see his sire motioning the moms back, telling them he’ll see what’s happened before heading their way. They still look on warily through their door, able to see the princess, some of the foals, and the line of unconscious guards lying at their hooves. Solar approaches too, probably curious about what Cure’s plants are actually capable of.

“Umm… they can’t give consent. Are you okay with me, ya know?” he asks, waving to the group. He’s aware of the other foals approaching from behind and getting filled in by the pegasi.

“Yes, please,” she immediately answers, letting out a sigh and running a hoof down her face. As Cure gets to work she explains, “I had come to invite everypony to breakfast in the main dining hall, as well as to discuss plans for the day.” She takes a moment to survey the guards and shakes her head. “I will have to apologize to them. I feel just awful… the poor dears.”

“Kudos on the enthusiasm,” Cure grumbles as he starts, “but yer guards need some situational awareness training.”

She looks over the shrub, watching as the expended pods begin closing and, apparently, reloading. “One plant,” she sighs again, watching the victorious shrub rearm itself. “Had I any doubt to your claims previously, that display would have certainly dispelled them.”

“Your plant knocked out eight guards?!” Dawn asks incredulously.

Cure glances up to the orange filly with a smirk. “Is that really so unbeleafable?” he asks. Her expression immediately changes to scowl. Waving to the shrub he adds, “My plants don’t moss around, ya know? They can be very violet, and, of course, know how to fight dirty.” He keeps a straight face for about two seconds before he snorts, trying to hold back a laugh before ultimately failing. At least Sapphire finds him punny, rolling on the floor in a fit of giggles, but all of the rest give him pitying looks.

“Cure Wave…” the princess sighs in a deeply disappointed tone.

“Sorry. I couldn’t kelp myself,” he barely finishes before bursting out in laughter again. Finishing with a chuckle, he explains, “In all seriousness, it probably has enough pods left for another couple dozen shots, too. And it’ll replace the first set in a few minutes.”

From the open door he hears Solar call out. “Dude… really? Thirty-two shots?”

Shrugging, Cure nods while he works. “Eighty. It fires more than once per attacker. I figured by the thirtieth or so the rest would have a hard time getting past all the bodies blockin the door, giving it time to rearm.”

Done looking over the guards, he gives his report. “All fixed, boss. Some bruises, a few sprains, and a fractured rib where that one,” he points at an earth pony stallion that had built up some steam, “landed on top of your second guard there. They’ll start waking up in a minute. Ya may wanna bring ‘em by when they can give their okay so I can fix up teeth, eyes, joints, etcetera.”

“Of course,” he pauses, musing out loud, “now that there’s no guards,” he menacingly adds, slowly turning to face the deadpanning mare staring over two meters down at him, “Get her!” he shouts, pointing a hoof. The other foals refuse to budge, but Cherry and Lotus spring into action, each one wrapping around one of the princess’s fetlocks and looking hopefully to Cure for approval. “Nice job, girls!” he yells, pumping his hoof. “Victory is ours!”

Celestia flicks her eyes up towards her crown and looks back to Cure with a broad smile. “If you really want it…”

With horrified realization, Cure quickly shakes his head no, backing away. “Never mind. No way, hard pass. Sorry, girls, the coup is canceled. Maybe next time,” he noncommittally suggests. The two give the princess’s knees a quick nuzzle, mercifully release her, and hop over the pile, running through Deed’s legs across the hall, eager to tell their moms of their latest successful hunt.

“Gotta say, though, princess… that’s two days in a row I’ve thwarted yer guard and gotten ya by yerself. Maybe you would be safer comin back with us.” Glancing his sire’s direction he smirks and points out, “We did just buy a bigger house, ya know? The current owners have a couple weeks to vacate, but come the thirteenth,” he trails off, waving in a “there you have it” motion.

When the princess casts a considering look to his sire the dark stallion lets out a long suffering sigh and turns tail, fleeing back to his room and shutting the door.

“Aww, don’t worry, boss. I still think yer pretty.”

“That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“I know, I’m pretty great like that,” he easily agrees. “Hey, since you’re already here and all, the trees over there,” he begins, pointing to another set of his creations sitting on the small dinette table. Both look vaguely similar to his Origin Cell Tree. Unlike the dark brown unit, they are a light blue matching his coat. Both are labeled; one with “Hinder” and the other with “Kill.” They also lack the “sample” slot since they are only making medication.

“That’s what we discussed the other day. One output makes a topical cream,” he points towards a spigot on the “Kill” tree, “and the other a water-soluble capsule for… ya know,” he explains, motioning to a sloping ramp coming out the other side. “My dam has the documentation and some seeds in her pouch for ya. We worked on that after dinner last night.”

“Thank you, Cure. I will stop by their room on the way out and have them delivered for testing while we eat. I can give your dam a receipt for those as well if you would like.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he agrees with a nod. As he looks over the slowly awakening guards he asks, “So… meetchya at breakfast in a few?”

“Forty-five minutes, Cure,” she agrees, lifting the Colt Trees in her aura. “Also, if you wouldn’t mind,” she looks back to the defensive shrub, “please don’t forget to turn that off before you come.”

“Alright,” he agrees, turning towards Wind. “That would give me time to make a basic flight suit for you to wear today,” he says, motioning to one of his plants. “It’ll have to tie instead of zip and won’t have the inlaid enchantment lines, but it’ll get you by for the day.”

Breakfast is served in the same formal dining room the group had eaten the night they arrived. It strikes Cure as funny that he’d previously compared the palace to a fancy hotel given the way the food is being served. Rather than taking individual orders the staff have set up a buffet, of a sort, where a selection of breakfast confections, oats, grits, yogurts, pastries, fruits, greens, and a variety of drinks are made available.

They’re all placed on a table with a tall bench to allow the foals to serve themselves easily, even though the staff are on standby to help anypony should the need arise. Rather than sitting right beside the princess, Cure seats himself between the earth pony sisters that were unwilling to brave the cloud city the previous day while the adults are gathered around and chatting with her highness at the end of the table.

Trying to evenly share his attention between six fillies is not an easy task, he reflects. The typical “harem” story he remembers Ed reading rarely delved into the topic, but in the real world with individuals not eager to participate in such an arrangement it strikes him as sad more than anything. Everypony should have a fair shot at finding true love, and starting out with roughly a twenty percent chance of success sucks.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the lively narration coming from the energetic filly to his left. Apparently Ferric had some measure of success at a whack-a-mole game they happened upon at the fair.

“... and sissy was hitting them almost before they even popped up! She got the highest score of the day, the stall keeper said!”

“Jeez, Red, remind me never ta piss ya off with a hammer in reach,” Cure playfully teases, looking to his right at the bashful girl. “Was it ‘cause,” he waves towards her side, raising a curious brow in question.

“Mmhmm,” she quietly hums. “It felt just like at work. I could just… see where to swing,” she softly confirms.

“You’re a total hardflank,” Drift boldly declares from her other side. Scrunching her snout, she gives the dark filly an appraising look. “Daddy always says it’s the quiet ones.”

Wind is across from her sister, nodding, “Yep, ya gotta keep an eye out for the pony who isn’t running her mouth. That’s the most dangerous one in any group.”

“She is really strong,” Dawn, sat between the older filly and Glacial, chips in. She looks to Wind, tilting her head in thought. “Do you think her hooves count as hammers?”

Everypony pauses at the suggestion; the entire table of foals all give the increasingly brighter blushing filly curious stares.

“We should test it!” Sapphire eagerly shouts, bouncing on her seat. “I bet sissy doesn’t even need a hammer! She just looks at the metal and goes all,” she points her hoof at a butter knife sitting beside her plate and, in a much deeper voice with a serious frown, she says, “I command thee… BEND!”

“And thus the metal obeys!” Cure solemnly declares.

Heavy and Coast are on the platinum filly’s right, across from Sapphire and Rising. Picking up on Cure’s intent, the gray colt echos, “The metal obeys!”

All the other foals join in and echo in grave tones, “The metal obeys!” and immediately break down in giggles.

Ferric, the poor thing, has sunk down in her seat. Seeing the obvious signs of anxiety, Cure leans over and wraps a foreleg around her withers and pulls himself against her side. “Don’t be sad, Red! Your friends are just trying to joke with ya, okay?”

“I know.”

“Alright, well if it bothers you too much feel free to speak up. Nopony wants to upset ya.”

“When do you want to go?” Glacial asks, leaning behind Dawn to talk to Wind.

“Around ten?” the older filly suggests. “I don’t want to go right after we eat.”

“Ask the princess for an escort,” Cure quickly insists. “Nopony goes anywhere out of the palace without a guard escort, okay?”

“He’s right,” Solar immediately agrees. “While you’re in the capital you need an adult with you anyhow, and since none of us have wings,” he finishes, waving a hoof leadingly.

“Young Corporal Strike is correct,” Celestia calls from the end of the table. “As your host, your safety while you visit is my responsibility. I will ask Staff Sergeant Bramble to assign to you a squad of pegasi for the day.” Any would-be argument about needing an escort dies on the spot as Wind, who had opened her mouth to argue with Solar, sits back down and nods in acceptance.

Smiling, she adds, “I wish you all luck; there promises to be many exceptional young fliers competing in the events today. I look forward to hearing of your success.”

“When are you all heading out?” Drift asks, turning to look at Dawn.

The orange filly shrugs, calling down the table to the adults. “Mrs. Vines? Do you know when the tour starts?”

“Eleven o’clock, Dawn, honey. Her highness was kind enough to arrange everything for us,” she answers, thanking the princess again for all of her help.

“Could I see the Guard smithing area?” Ferric quietly asks.

Alicorn hearing must be pretty good, Cure notes, as the princess smiles and nods back to the shy filly despite the bodies between them and the ambient noise from everypony eating.

“I wouldn’t mind going, too,” Heavy requests. “It sounds a lot more interesting than an opera house, at least.”

“Certainly,” the princess agrees. “Be sure to listen to young Ferric and the staff on duty, though. There are many sharp, heavy, and possibly hot items in the workshop areas.”

“What about you all?” Cure asks, looking between the unicorns and his two newest moms.

“We’re gonna take the girls ‘n hit the shops. I ain’t ever been here and even the shoppin in Baltimare is nothin like Fillydelphia had.”

“OOH! Can I come?” Sapphire shouts.

Amethyst and Lemon share a quick look and come to a decision. “Just don’t go disappearing on us, okay?” Lemon requests. Sapphire bounces in her seat, nodding eagerly in agreement.

“Dad, you going with?”

“HA! And leave you here alone to wreak havoc?”

“The boss lady’ll be with me,” he whines. “What could we possibly do that she couldn’t deal with?”

“Flag,” Title quietly mumbles between bites.

Deed slowly looks back and forth between the two innocently smiling alicorns. “I’m… not completely convinced that’s much better.”

“Worry not, Mister Deed,” she assures him, “I’ll ensure young Cure does not get into too much trouble while you are spending time with your wives.”

With a single cocked brow the stallion gives the princess a slow, evaluating look. “Yeaaaahhh… if you say so, highness.”

“Excellent!” she cheers with a clap of her unclad hooves. “Before we split up I have news regarding the lieutenant’s findings yesterday. When everypony is finished eating I would like to have a moment to update you,” she says, facing the parents. “And if you still feel up to it, Mrs. Vista has prepared a trellis scene for your ritual.”

“Of course, your highness!” Vines excitedly agrees.

“Wonderful! Perhaps if the foals would like to observe we should do the flowers first?” she suggests. “I think they will quite enjoy the arrangement, after all.”

A short while later finds the herd following the princess through the garden; the entire group being closely tailed by a different group of armored guards. Cure keeps a wary eye out for the statue, but never spots the thing.

He’s of two minds on the subject of the chaotic draconequus; first, being frozen but awake has got to be one of the cruelest possible punishments he can think of. Sure, there’s worse, but that frozen state is definitely in the top ten, maybe even three when accounting for duration.

Cure had even tossed around the suggestion of setting the dude up with some music or something to help pass the time, thinking that when Discord does finally break free there’s not any real reason the two couldn’t have at least an amicable relationship, even if they’re not exactly friends.

He’s not as sure about that as he used to be, though. After reading the available history books, Cure can’t deny the possibility that the asshole earned all that and more. He did, after all, singlehandedly fuck up uncountable millions of beings. On a planet with such a small population, even if he never straight up killed anyone, that’s still a reign of terror, relatively speaking, that may exceed anything a human ever achieved.

That’s only accounting for what the history books say, too. All of that could be a drop in the bucket compared to what he did that nobody survived to make a record of, or that happened on the other side of the planet, the results of which ponies are simply unaware of.

Cure doesn’t care to spend much time considering how to properly quantify such awfulness to accurately compare Discord’s atrocities to those of others. The fact is that despite the unmeasurable suffering he caused, given another hundred years or so, the prick will still essentially get a happy ending, and that’s after he fucks over his friends at least a few more times once he’s freed.

I suppose I could still be okay with him if he truly has reformed by then. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to tell her he’s actually awake without setting off alarm bells though, he thinks.

Deep in thought, Cure nearly walks right into the princess’s right hind leg. She didn’t notice, but he still heard a few giggles and at least one comment about a “Cure moment” from behind. It’s always Saph, isn’t it?

Waving a wing to the set up trellis, the princess turns to regard the family. “I suppose I should have asked if there are any special requirements,” she comments.

“No, your highness!” Vines eagerly answers. “We don’t need anything at all. It may need some water or fresh soil afterwards, though… I’m not familiar with this kind of flower.”

“They are a very special variation of sweet peas. Or they were at some point in history. Although that is still the name used they have been changed by magic so much they are hardly the same plant. Once they bloom they still have the same lovely scent as the original and the flowers are the same, but the density is much higher than the original.”

“How exactly does this work?” Cure asks, looking at the vine-covered wooden frame. It’s a lot larger than he had anticipated. He expected something like a meter wide, two meter tall rose bush, but the structure in front of him, while not much over two tall, seems to be at least three meters across. He supposed that with such large “pixels” as a flower would be, it’s necessary to have a larger canvas as well. “Aren’t they all the same flower? Won’t it just be a wall of one color?”

“They are the same kind of flower, but the vines are specially cultivated so that when they bloom the petals should come in with different colors. Extremely skilled artisans can create a scene with great success, but less experienced growers can use magic to correct the colors after they bloom.”

“Ah, so they get as close as possible initially, then refine the image with magic, basically?”

“Exactly. I am sure you would excel at this, given your talent, but I ask that you refrain from using it until we see the result of Mrs. Vista’s team’s efforts. They had far less time to prepare than is normal, but she assured me it will suffice. I am very excited to see how it turns out!” she exclaims.

Shrugging, Cure nods in understanding. He could cheat pretty easily and use smaller flower petals to more accurately depict a scene, but this is one instance where it may really be considered cheating.

Still, if ponies will pay for this crap it’s just another thing he could sell, not that he’s hurting for ideas anyhow. As he considers this everypony gathers to the side several meters away so they can watch without being too close to the ritual.

Vines, being the center of the formation, takes her place a few meters in front of the trellis. Her husband quickly joins her on her right, smushing his side against her and sharing a brief, intimate moment nuzzling cheeks with his beloved.

Title walks in front of the pair, sharing a soft kiss with her wife, then her husband walking to his right and rubbing her side against him, leaning heavily against the larger, stronger stallion. She leans her head over, pressing the top of her snout against his chin in a nuzzle.

Amethyst is next, repeating the steps, giving and receiving love from each of her spouses before she leans against Vines’ left, sandwiching the mare between herself and their husband.

Lemon pronks over, grabs Deed by the chin, then aggressively and loudly makes out with him for several seconds, getting giggles from Vines and Title and most of the audience. After a moment, over the gagging sounds of their daughters, Amethyst yells, “Damnit, Sweets, get yer plot over here ‘fore I shove a hoof up it! We were havin a moment, ya ignoramus!” The yellow mare blows her wife a raspberry and trots into position while giggling.

The family had long ago sat down to hash out which element each one should focus on. Vines, with her sweet demeanor and gentle heart, is an obvious choice for Kindness. Lemon, always happy to share a sweet treat with anypony, is the most appropriate for Generosity. Amethyst, gruff and straightforward, doesn’t hesitate to display her Honesty.

Deed never hesitated a second to commit himself fully to his beloved or his foal, even when he was only fifteen and barely living on his own. His dedication to giving his family the best life he can despite the challenges he faces make him a great candidate for Loyalty. Title, quick with a joke and eager to join in Cure’s antics, overflows with Laughter.

With everypony in place, they all close their eyes, only to pause when Celestia speaks up. “Does Cure not typically participate?” Turning her neck to look at the foals, she continues, “I had assumed this was something you came up with.”

Cure, standing between the girls with Savvy on his withers, shrugs back to the princess. “I never have before. I’ve done something like it with my dam when we were making the virus tree prototypes. I mean… I guess I can join in,” he weakly agrees. He lays down on his barrel and, with a little coaxing from Starlight, Savvy climbs down to watch from between the dark mare’s forelegs.

Cure trots over to his parents who lay on their barrels. Title and Lemon are quick to hop up on Deed and Amethyst’s withers while he climbs between his dam’s forelegs and presses his dock against her chest, reaching up to plant a kiss on her chin and getting a nuzzle in return.

Cure has never participated in the ritual before, mainly out of concern that he’s so different from the rest he may throw them off somehow. With the princess on standby there’s little reason to fear, though, as there isn’t a more accomplished mage alive as far as anypony knows. Although Loyalty is the virtue he values above all, he knows his sire is focused on that. The only Element remaining resonates well enough with him that he is confident in focusing on Magic.

With everypony in place they close their eyes and focus on their element, cycling their magic and offering it freely to the mare at the center of their formation. The ambient magic in the air, far thicker and more potent than in Golden Hills, responds much more energetically than the family is accustomed to. In a blinding blue flash with a loud “whomp” an expanding arc of magic explodes forth from the green mare, blasting over her son and into the trellis, instantly blooming every flower on the display.

“What the fuck was that?” Drift quietly asks from the middle of the group.

“Wow,” Solar mumbles. “I… did not expect that.”

“Indeed,” Celestia nods in agreement. “That was an amazing display, everypony. I have not felt magic like that… in a very, very long time.”

“Ugh… I feel like crap,” Cure whines, sinking down into the grass. “You okay, dam? Everypony alright?”

“I’m fine, sweetie,” she says, nuzzling into his mane between his ears. “A little tired, I suppose, but that’s normal.”

“Let’s maybe not do that again,” Lemon suggests in a whine.

“Ah feel like I tried ta buck a train,” Amethyst groans. “Me ‘n Sweets ain’t caught up to y’all yet.”

Deed just shrugs, “Yup, you two are still a bit behind. It wasn’t too bad fer me. You alright, babe?” he asks Title.

“I’m good. Kinda hungry again already, but yeah. Not too bad.”

“Part cow,” Cure grumbles. “We talking baseline hungry or actually hungry, ma? You’re never not at least a little hungry.”

“Shattap, brat.”

“Hangry,” he responds knowingly. He hears some mischievous laughing from the group of foals and notices that his parents, aside from his dam, have already moved away. She leans down and kisses just behind his horn, mumbles a quick apology, stands up, and trots away giggling. “Huh?” he asks, looking around as he begins to stand. The trellis scene before him catches his attention before he turns around.

“What the hay?” he asks, tilting his head in confusion. The scene depicts a blue pony with a green mane surrounded by white circles or something. A light impact on his rear causes him to whip around, finding himself in the middle of a half circle of his friends and family. All but the princess are holding pie tins with whipped cream, her having thrown the first shot.

“There will be a reckoning,” he playfully warns as everypony but Title throws theirs; the glutton too busy deciding if she would rather eat it instead, even if it is just a tin of whipped cream. Laughter rings out from everypony as the colt is pelted with pie after pie, especially from the princess who looks exceedingly pleased with herself. Choosing to be a good sport about it, he doesn’t dodge or shield or do anything else but close his eyes and let it all happen.

As the last pie smacks into his face and falls to the ground, the princess saunters up, giggling the whole way. “Did you plan this right after the dinner?” the pile of cream asks as he pans his gaze over the uproariously laughing foals.

“Not originally. I asked them to alter the picture after the bunny incident,” she answers. “I owed you for that and for sneaking into my room, young colt. I happen to have some experience with pulling pranks, I’ll have you know.”

“Fair enough. I can’t deny I’ve had it coming.”

Celestia smiles and lays on her barrel beside him. “Aww, thanks for playing along, Cure. I am quite certain that you could have easily avoided it.”

“Eh, yeah. A shield woulda done the trick just fine. Like I said, I earned it. Is there something in this crap, though? It’s feeling kinda hot.”

Celestia reaches out with a hoof and scoops a bit of cream off, gives it a sniff, then tastes it. “No… it’s just whipped cream. What do you mean hot? They just came out of the refridge…” she stops mid sentence, eyes widening as steam begins billowing off the colt. The whipped cream covering him quickly melts and bubbles on his coat as she jumps to her hooves in alarm.

Breathing heavily, Cure can barely pant out, “I… I’m hot… like…” He looks up, meeting the princess’s eyes with a scared look. “Princess? What’s ha-”

The colt explodes in a white flash, blinding everypony but the princess and blasting her forelegs, chest, and face in runny cream. Blinking her eyes clear, she finds a scorched, swirling pattern of grass with nearly twenty thousand scattered bits, a fountain pen, several blank papers, a knife, a lovely pocket watch, and his staff, planted firmly in the center of the pattern standing erect. Two bit pouches slowly float to the ground, landing to the side.

Struck speechless and completely unprepared, Celestia stares wide-eyed for several seconds, only shaking off the surprise when Cure’s sister, Savvy, toddles over. The pink filly looks back and forth between the princess and the blackened patch a few times, then gives her the most adorable angry scowl ever. She walks right up to the princess’s hoof, rears back a foreleg, and kicks her right above the fetlock before huffing, turning her back, and returning to her dam.

Trailing her sight up from the girl, Celestia has to hold back a laugh at her unsure looking guards, clearly torn as to whether or not some action is required. “Be at ease, sergeant. I am unharmed. Physically, that is.” She gives the filly another look. Savvy has pressed her face into her dam’s tummy, back still turned conspicuously in the princess’s direction. “Though I dare say it has been many, many centuries since such a devastating attack was unleashed upon me.”

Deed seems to be the first to figure out what happened. He looks at the belongings and charred swirl of grass and lets out a sigh, wrapping Vines in a hug and whispering soothingly to her. She freezes and seems to collapse on the spot, stunned more than anything, but not desperately wailing like Celestia would normally expect.

Perhaps her inadvertent mention of ascension the other day would end up being a blessing after all. She had initially been concerned that simply knowing about it could cause the colt to fixate on it, thus ruining his chances of ever finding the way.

The foals are far more distraught with several of them already asking what happened, where is he, and so on.

Title is looking back and forth between the charred patch and the half eaten pie in her hooves in consideration. She finally shrugs and continues lapping it up, casually commenting, “Damn, we definitely should try to steal that cook.”

Amethyst barks out a laugh, nudging Lemon with a challenge. “No shit! I bet yer candies can’t do that, Sweets.” The yellow mare plays along, kicking idly at the ground in an exaggerated pout.

His dam and sire seem pretty normal, but the rest of the family is obviously crazy, she concludes.

“Cure Wave is unharmed,” Celestia assures everypony, approaching the group while waving a wing for her guards to back away. She casts a Sound Bubble, careful to surround only Cure’s friends and family as she explains, “He has truly ascended to become a genuine alicorn. I will depart shortly to guide and retrieve him. Worry not; he will be back in a few hours, at most, and will be completely fine. This is a momentous occasion for the entirety of our nation!” she jubilantly shouts.

“He’s okay?” Dawn asks hopefully.

Nodding, she reassures the filly. “Yes, he is okay. I will need to leave you all-” she stops, pausing as she senses a shift in the magic of the world. Looking up towards the mountain, she dispels the Sound Bubble to find thunderous rumbling shaking the heavens, rattling every pane of glass in her city and beyond. “So quickly?” she wonders aloud.

Directly above Canterlot, unobscured by Cloudsdale to the northwest, a building-sized tear in the sky opens and, from the gap in the world, out slithers an enormous, ethereal blue and green serpent, coiling around nothing as it is birthed into existence. As the tail emerges the hole closes and the serpent screeches a loud, roaring hiss as it seems to solidify; the simplified image of a familiar tree appearing from within its coils and branching out above its head.

Cries of panic can be heard in the distance; klaxons sound and bells ring out summoning the cities’ defenders as they are called into readiness. Civilian traffic between the cloud and mountain cities disappears instantly as armored squads of pegasi scramble to form a defensive perimeter, bravely interposing themselves between their charges and the terrifying entity.

“Of course,” Celestia sighs, “Stars forbid I have time to warn everypony.”

Finished with its intimidating display, the serpent dispels the tree, turning its head towards the castle. With speed impossible for mortal creatures, the snake launches itself directly at the group, slamming into the ground just before the princess and exploding in a flash of blue, leaving behind a blinking, stunned alicorn colt.

As Cure’s vision clears he finds himself standing in front of the princess, almost exactly where he was just minutes earlier. Looking up to the ancient mare, he casually waves a wing in greeting. “Sup, boss?”

“Really, Cure?” Title disappointedly calls.

“For my next trick, I’ll need a brave volunteer from the audience,” he yells back, chortling at the end. “So… what’d I miss? Oh! Sweet! My stuff’s okay!” he shouts, trotting over and plucking the staff, along with everything else, from the ground. “Wonder why it dumped my bags,” he mumbles as he reaches into one pouch, then the other. “Hay! My materials and crystals are gone!” he shouts. “Damnit! Where’d all my shit go?!” he growls just as he’s bowled over by a group of relieved foals.

It had taken several long minutes for everypony to calm down. After being nearly crushed under the pile, then squeezed to death by his dam’s embrace, the stumbling colt and his family are escorted to Celestia’s office while the others return to their rooms to prepare to head out for the day. Despite the unexpected event, Cure insists that everypony continue on as normal, at least as much as possible, and enjoy their last day in the capital.

It had taken Celestia only a few minutes to give the “All Clear” order. The pegasi guards providing her escort were able to quickly find and notify the lieutenant and captain, and from there it was simple to dispatch pegasi messengers to the rallying second lieutenants, staff sergeants, and sergeants across the city to tell them to stand down.

Much like the room he’d already met with her in once, the princess’s office has a conference table. It also has all the markings of somepony who works for a living. A large desk is sat close to, but not directly in front of a set of wood and glass doors leading to a balcony. A large Equestrian flag hangs directly behind it.

Two large file cabinets are against the wall behind and to the side of the desk and, on the opposite wall, dozens of rolled maps are tucked into an upright, labeled filing system. The one of Fillydelphia is spread, hanging on pegs from the wall. A single chair for a bipedal sits opposite the desk flanked on either side by couches, the three forming a semicircle facing it.

“I kinda liked the staff,” Cure says in a weak whine. “I hope Ferric isn’t upset. She spent a lot of time on that thing.”

“I think she’ll understand, son.”

Title looks at the new mark on Cure’s flank and asks, “Is that normal?”

“It… is,” Celestia slowly confirms.

“Unicorn?” Cure asks, getting a confirming nod from the princess. “Totally called it,” he says with a proud smile.

Lemon looks to her right, past Amethyst, at the princess. “I figured you were born an alicorn.”

“Most ponies assume such,” she answers with a shrug.

“I was almost sure you couldn’t have been since you said ‘ascension’ the other day. Honestly, though, I had kinda wondered after the first time I opened the door and found ya standin there a few months back.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. Your frame isn’t quite right for a tall earth pony or a pegasus. I haven’t seen a tall mare yet, but it seems to me that you’re a little too narrow at the shoulders,” he says, motioning across his chest, “and I would assume a pegasus that ascends is probably a smidge shorter even after the fact. Plus you said everypony in your family were unicorns.

“If you were born an alicorn then the possibility of ascension wouldn’t be a thing you would even consider. Well, I guess unless she,” he waves at the flag, “did it afterwards. Of course, now that I’ve gotten a look at alicorn cells I’m confident nopony could ever be born one. Well, not of parents from another tribe, at least,” he qualifies.

“I have only had a few ponies make similar observations in many, many years, Cure.”

“Most ponies probably aren’t as intimately familiar with the female…” he pauses, eyes widening. “Oh wow, that isn’t gonna sound right.”

Through giggles, Title encourages him, “No, no. Go ahead. What were you saying?”

Sighing, Cure continues, “Screw it, I don’t even care. Most ponies aren’t as familiar with the female body as I am.”

The statement gets snickers from four of the parents. Vines, still recovering from the traumatic experience of seeing her colt explode, is sat behind him, wrapping her forelegs around him in a protective hug.

Savvy, similarly upset, is sitting between his forelegs, sitting on her haunches hugging under his wings around his barrel fast asleep. Aware of how upset his sister was, Cure is gently petting down her back and mane as she smashes her face in his belly. Lemon and Amethyst took the spots to his right while Title and Deed are on his left.

“What did you mean about it being impossible to be born an alicorn?” Celestia asks.

“From non-alicorn parents,” he clarifies. “There is no way possible for anypony but an alicorn to have an alicorn foal, at least biologically speaking. They would be more likely to have a dragon or a freakin hyena pop out from what I can tell. At least, based on what I’m seeing in myself.”

“Could you check, please?” she asks, looking at him in concern.

“I could scan you right now,” he says, motioning to his horn, “if that’s okay?” At her nod he scans the princess, finding that her cellular structure is nearly identical to his own now; presumably the differences being gender and, possibly, age-related since he is still physically immature.

“Yeah, we’re totally different species. Not just species, even… we’re just… like, not even remotely the same. We might as well be pony shaped aliens. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t even give somepony a transfusion without killing them.”

“You can not,” Celestia says. “It was attempted. Once. With disastrous results.”

“Ah. Sorry to hear, highness,” he softly replies. He gives her a second before continuing. “So yeah, unless some magical weirdness happens, a foal could never be born an alicorn unless, I’m guessing, both parents are. I seriously doubt an alicorn could impregnate a non-alicorn, or vice versa, of course. I mean, the blood type thing alone would cause massive complications.”

“No wonder,” Celestia softly says, visibly deflating at the revelation.

“You won’t be able to have foals?!” Vines all but cries.

Scoffing, he waves the issue away. “Of course I’ll be able to have foals. Don’t worry about that, dam.”

Title looks between the colt and the princess, glancing back and forth a few times. Celestia notices her look and catches her meaningful glance back to the colt. She blushes brilliantly, eliciting a barked laugh from the pink mare.

“We will discuss that when you are older!” the princess shouts, glowing red.

Confused at the outburst, Cure cocks a brow and tilts his head at the mare. “Uhh… what?” He briefly looks to his left, finding Title almost burying herself below the table shaking in laughter.

“I am not prepared to discuss this topic!” she insists. “We may broach it again at some point, but not until you are at least an adult!”

“Well I wasn’t plannin on havin foals until I was twenty or so anyhow… maybe older. Dunno,” he adds with a shrug. “The whole longer life thing makes that kind of a lower priority, sort of.”

Exhaling in relief, the princess nods in acceptance. “I am relieved. I have always wished to have a foal, so I am not prepared to dismiss the idea at some point, but even the discussion, given your age, discomforts me immensely.”

The statement is met by a horrible lingering silence, aside from the snorted giggling under the table, as everypony stares at the increasingly blushing princess.

“I think tha colt meant he can use his talent ta have foals with normal ponies, princess,” Amethyst tactfully explains.

Celestia’s eyes bulge out, staring in shock at the slowly nodding foal. She sags, laying her chest and neck on the table glowing nearly violet in a blush. She closes her eyes and covers her head with both forelegs, leaving them in place until everypony stops snickering and her blush subsides. It is several minutes before she sits back up, still sporting a faint pink dusting on her cheeks.

“I have, in all my centuries of life, only been so mortified on a hooffull of occasions,” she stoically confesses.

“Aww, don’t worry yerself, highness,” Deed assures her, reaching out to pat her right forehoof. “Tha colt tends ta have that kinda stuff just happen ‘round ‘em. It was just a misunderstandin.”

“Yes… Well, as flattered as I may be,” Cure slowly begins, “We’re leavin tomorrow and we got a lot to get done. I need to get stuff for the lieutenant’s suit, maybe hit a bookstore or a library, then I gotta go crystal shopping too. I still can’t believe I lost that mid-high! Five thousand bits, just gone!”

“I suspect that provided much of the energy you required,” Celestia suggests, still struggling to even look in his direction. “Those have half again the capacity of a typical adult unicorn. A civilian one, at least. What else did you have on you?”

“Four mids, sixteen mid-low, and ten low.”

Now fully sitting upright and looking at him in something like horror, she asks, “... Why in the world were you carrying over thirty crystals?!”

“Well the mids each had a teleport to escape, the mid-low were split between shields for physical and energy attacks, and the lows were mostly firebolts with a couple concussive Missiles mixed in.”

“No stuns, babe?” Title asks.

“I figured if they weren’t shielded I could take them out with my talent, and if they were -”

“- then stun wouldn’t work anyhow,” she finishes in an understanding nod.

“Yep.”

Celestia quickly adds everything up. “So all told you were carrying approximately two experienced mages worth of charged crystals?”

“Sounds about right,” he nods.

“And you had them on you while participating in a ritual?”

“Uhh… sort of? I hadn’t planned on it, though! Wait a second… did you know that was going to happen?”

“I did not!” she vehemently insists.

He holds his hooves up in surrender. “Okay, fair, I mean… if anypony would know I would expect it to be you. And you are the one that suggested I join in.”

“To be honest, I was unsure if a stallion, or a colt, even could ascend. I had only assumed you joined your family and inquired as such,” she defends. “Besides, I suspect you may know this; what is one of the first steps in performing a ritual?”

The colt gains a faraway look for a moment, then cringes. “Removing items that could react in unexpected ways?”

“Exactly! You are immensely fortunate, young colt. I care not to think how poorly that could have gone!” After a second’s thought she adds, “I’m rather surprised your compressed bags are intact as well, given that the contents spilled. It’s almost as if something was violently removed from them during your ascension, though they appear undamaged.”

It dawns on Cure that she is exactly right. It is just as if his extra mass, which was, for all intents, part of his body, was violently removed from the bags, bringing their contents out at the same time.

Seeking to avoid that line of questioning, Cure admits, “I kinda didn’t think about the crystals, to be honest. Like I said, I’ve never participated before, and I always keep them on me just in case.” The statement gets a curious look from the princess, so he explains, “I figured throwing in a foal with much lower magic capacity than the other adult members would… I dunno? Throw off the balance or whatever?”

“Ah. Not a completely unfounded presumption. To clarify, what you were doing was not the standard definition of a ritual, exactly. It was more of a… shared casting, I suppose, is the closest comparison.

“In a legitimate ritual the ritual diagram must be properly structured to account for variables such as participant capacity and so forth. To fail to do so can cause significant, possibly permanent harm to somepony by overdrawing from them. When no diagram was drawn or requested I had assumed you were not conducting what I would define as a ritual.”

Celestia’s gaze pans over the parents, all of whom save Title are barely showing signs of comprehension. Cure, at least, is paying rapt attention, but then foals are typically far more eager to learn. It is almost a wonder, she thinks, that he did not get a cutie mark related to magic. Then again, staves used to be signs of powerful mages, and the tree itself now adorns his flanks.

Sighing, Celestia refocuses the conversation. “Regardless, we have much to discuss and, unless all plans for the day are canceled…?” She continues once everypony looks to Cure who is shaking his head no. The parents look back, clearly not disagreeing with the foal. Odd how much they defer to his judgment, but he clearly is a born leader. “Very well, first and foremost we must discuss plans in regards to young Cure’s future.”

“What plans? Nothin’s changed,” he quickly interrupts.

“I beg to differ!” the princess argues in a raised voice. “Very much has changed! You are a genuine alicorn now, Cure. That changes everything!”

With furrowed brows, Cure slowly shakes his head. “No it doesn’t. What were the plans if that,” he waves a hoof towards the balcony, “hadn’t happened?” Celestia barely opens her mouth to respond, but he carries on regardless. “I was going to go home tomorrow and, at some point, probably when I’m ten or so, look at buyin a place in town and all of us movin. Or just havin a second home, whichever,” he says, barely shrugging his trapped wings. “What changed?”

“A blue and green serpent the size of the capital ripped the sky a new hole and showed off yer cutie mark,” Amethyst helpfully supplies in a deadpan. “Every paper in the city, and probably the country, is gonna have it on their front page, I bet, even without an official statement saying the cause.”

“Ah! But Cure Wave’s cutie mark has a snake coiled around a staff, not around a tree!” In only a few seconds his wings are obscured, his horn is retracted, and his original mark is restored, though it takes a couple nudges for his dam to loosen her grip enough for him to turn and show them, still holding his sister to his barrel. With brows hiked into his maneline he repeats, “So I ask again… what’s changed?”

“But… you’re an alicorn!” Celestia nearly whines.

“You had already planned on changing my status beforehoof,” he argues, retaking his seat. “That’s not a change. I already was an alicorn. Sort of.”

“My guards were there, Cure! They witnessed everything, as did any present members of the grounds crew!”

“Yeah, but half the castle staff has already seen an alicorn colt runnin around anyhow. You said your staff here at the castle wouldn’t blab about my identity. In fact, I believe your exact words were,” his voice suddenly shifts to mimic her own, “Those ponies understand discretion.” Finished with the short quote, he raises a single brow in challenge.

“There’s discretion when a group of typical foals spends a few days here; that is to be expected. It is a very different story when an alicorn colt flirts with the staff, is seen leaving my bedchambers before sunrise, turns into a rabbit version of myself, is… partially… responsible for several hundred damaged windows and other glass items, then blankets the entire city in a coiled, hissing serpent before lunging at the castle!”

“Well pardon me for not being all boring like everypony else! Just cause I like ta keep things interesting,” he trails off grumbling.

After a moment’s silence he snuggles back against his dam and leans up for a quick nuzzle into her chin. The genuine smile on the mare warms Celestia’s heart as she watches. Vines turns her head, running her cheek across his mane, between her son’s ears and over his muzzle, wiggling slightly in joy.

Several seconds of silence pass as the group collects their thoughts.

“How’s about this,” Deed starts, drawing everypony’s attention but his wife’s. She continues to nuzzle and groom her son as he continues, “We talked it over an’ would be happy ta come back fer the Summer Sun Celebration next month if that’s still okay,” he pauses to wait for the princess’s eager, beaming-smile nod. “We can see how everythin’s goin from there ‘n if need be, decide on changes then.”

Lemon nods and turns to face the princess. “What exactly were you going to propose anyhow, highness?”

“I honestly hadn’t had time to consider. Clearly I need to teach him about the changes he is going to go through.”

“What changes?” Vines warily asks.

Celestia scrunches her snout in thought and, after a moment’s consideration she hesitantly explains, “I normally would insist that this information be only shared amongst us,” she waves a hoof between Cure and herself, “and I will demand your silence outside of these walls,” she pauses until everypony nods, “but Cure will likely, in the coming years, gain a… perception, of a sort.”

“Like… I’ll be able to sense stuff?”

“That is essentially correct. I, for example, can perceive distant events while my sun is overhead. None who bathe in my sun’s warmth may hide from my perception, should I be looking for them.”

“Huh. So at night or if somepony is inside… ?”

Nodding, she answers, “They are obscured. I must take care, though, as having the full attention of the sun is… well, it is as you may suspect.”

“So… it’s like puttin somepony under a magnifying glass?”

“An apt analogy, yes,” she agrees. “With all that entails. As the sun’s warmth is benign when shared across the world, when focused on a single being,” she trails off.

“Gotchya. So you can peek in on wide areas but gaze too intently at a specific pony and it gets a might bit toasty. I’m guessing your… I don’t want to make assumptions. Friend? Former friend?” he asks, looking at the flag again.

“I…” she pauses again as she regards her sister’s image, looking back a moment later at the focused stares on everypony’s face.

Reaching over, Amethyst places a hoof on the distraught mare’s foreleg. “Ya don’t hafta share if ya don’t wanna, princess. Ain’t nopony here wantin ta upset ya.”

Cure, realizing the trauma is still significant, quickly apologizes. “Sorry, princess. What I was going to say is that she, I would presume, could do something similar with the moon. How do you think that will work with me, then?”

Celestia nods in answer. “You are essentially correct. If I had to guess, I would theorize that perhaps you will gain a similar awareness of life; likely within some proximity to yourself. As to what affects your concentrated attention may bring, I can only theorize it may be beneficial rather than harmful.”

“Huh. Boss lady gets the orbital beam attack and I get a souped up heal ray.”

The princess’s gaze sharpens in an instant and locks directly on to the flippant colt. “I cannot begin to express how strongly I wish I could do what you do, Cure. How many times I would have given anything to have been able to in the past. Words will never suffice to describe the suffering I have witnessed that you shall never need abide.”

“Sorry, boss, I was only joking. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, honest. Trust me, I know how easy it is to cause harm; I don’t need any help in that department.”

His assurance causes the mare’s countenance to soften, giving him an understanding nod.

“So… I’ll be able to perceive something at some point in the next few years and, if I concentrate on somepony too hard something may happen to them, be it good or bad. I mean… noted?” he says with a casual shrug. “I don’t get why that means our plans hafta change at all.”

“I suppose they do not,” she slowly concedes. “I do not have a logical reason to require you to be nearby. Call it protective instincts, if you must. There has not been another alicorn for a very long time. Pragmatically, I have no reason to be concerned for your safety, whether you are here or in Golden Hills.”

“Cool. Anything else I need to be aware of?”

“You’ll eventually begin to feel almost as if you have a second source of magic within you. It is not harmful or innately dangerous when used properly, but I will have to show you how to tap into it. That won’t be significant until after you’ve matured some. Other than that… I suppose nothing urgent. It will be far more important that you remain in control of your emotions, but given what I’ve seen thus far I do not have grave concerns regarding your temperament. I assume you have noticed a difference in regards to your magic?”

“Yeah, I’m probably almost caught up with Dawn now. Dunno, I’ve avoided tryin to do anything so far. I’m guessin my magic growth will speed up some, huh?”

“Certainly. I do not know to what degree, but you should far outpace even a powerful unicorn. I must emphasize that you be extremely cautious with any offensive spellwork, Cure. In fact, I would like to spend the day working with you to ensure you have a good grasp on your capabilities.”

She looks to the parents and, in a more forceful tone, explains, “If Cure struggles with control I will have to insist he remain here until he improves. If it is necessary, I would welcome any or all of you to stay until I can be sure he is not a danger to himself or anypony else, but I cannot simply send him back to Golden Hills without ensuring he can control his magic.”

“That’s reasonable,” Cure instantly agrees. “Dad, Title, and Lemon probably need to get back to their jobs and somepony needs to watch the girls. I may need one of you to reach out to the customers I have scheduled from Tuesday on if I struggle. Mom?” he asks, looking at Amethyst.

“You bet, colt. If yer dam needs ta stick around here I can take care ‘a everythin at home, no problem.”

“I’ll stay with you if need be, sweetie.”

“Excellent. Thank you for being so understanding. I admit, I was concerned you would argue it unnecessary.”

“No way, boss. I’ve avoided usin any magic ‘cause I don’t wanna… I dunno? Accidentally supercharge a light spell and blind somepony? Go ta lift somethin and throw it through the ceiling? What exactly should I expect, anyhow?”

“Those are valid possibilities, though I would expect the light spell to simply destabilize and explode instead. You could channel too much magic through your horn too quickly and fire an accidental, unaimed blast.”

“Please don’t do that,” Title solemnly requests.

“No doubt,” he voices with a frown. “Definitely don’t wanna accidentally blow somepony’s head off. That’s my schtick anyhow.” The comment gets a scowl and an extra hard squeeze from his dam, despite the innocent smile he leans up and gives her.

“Alright,” Deed voices, “Sounds like we got a plan. So, what’s the story with the raid yesterday?”

“Ah, yes,” Celestia pauses, her horn glowing gold for a moment until, in a flash, a stack of folders appears on the table in front of her. “Lieutenant Spear left at eleven o’clock with a full platoon of guards. Upon her arrival at the train station she immediately detected the scent marker you used. Her timing ended up being quite fortuitous, as the trees were being stowed on an outbound train headed for Bitsburgh departing at noon.

“She ordered two squads, lead by Staff Sergeant Still, to remove their armor and surreptitiously board the train and follow the plants while she herself followed their trail from the station.”

“Ah… she probably shoulda gone with ‘em. That trail will stay strong for at least a month.”

“I would ask that you be more forthcoming with such relevant facts in the future, Cure,” she curtly responds. He’s quick to give a conciliatory nod and apologize. “Despite that, the lieutenant followed the trail to a home in the northeast quadrant of the city; a rather wealthy and exclusive part of town.

“Warrant in hoof, Lt. Spear was able to ascertain who had taken temporary possession of the trees, likely to hide them overnight, and arranged transport out of the city. The three with whom you spoke were mere minions, paid a few thousand bits to play a part. Though impersonating a Royal Guard is a crime they will likely only face light prosecution.”

“They didn’t do anything violent, so, yeah… that sounds fair,” he agrees.

“Indeed. Sgt. Still was successful in coordinating with the local guard units in Bitsburgh. He followed your trees to their destination and, since directly witnessing the transit of stolen property, did not have to wait for any kind of warrant to execute a search.

“Your trees have been recovered and the receiving party, a research director, has been apprehended. The company’s other executives are denying any involvement, though their internal memorandums are still being reviewed by the local guard unit to ensure their honesty.”

“Huh. Okay… what company?”

“You do not need to know that information, Cure.”

“What?” he nearly shrieks.

“I will not have you seeking some kind of vengeance upon those responsible. Do not think for an instant that I am not perceptive, young colt. I have known your kind before. There is a time and a place for such acts, but their actions do not warrant, nor do they require, your direct involvement.”

“Fine!” he growls in a huff. “Bear Drug Co. is the only big one headquartered in Bitsburgh anyhow. Musta been them.” The assertion gets an impressed and slightly worried look from the princess. “Know thy enemy, highness.”

Vines explains his knowledge. “He researched anypony he thought may be responsible after his trees were stolen. Pharmaceutical companies, medical equipment manufacturers, and so forth.”

“I see,” she says begrudgingly, somewhat impressed. “I forbid you from taking direct action here, Cure,” she sternly commands. “Do you understand?”

Scowling back at the ancient mare has no effect. She, unlike most ponies, is not even the slightest bit intimidated by an angry look. “Fine. They’re not on my list anyhow. I’ve still got some issues with the jerks that sent mercenaries to foalnap me though.”

“My order stands, Cure. No direct action on your part unless I approve it. Given the circumstances, that is highly unlikely. You will have more autonomy as you grow, but you are just a foal,” she finishes in a raised voice, tapping her hoof on the table with each word.

“Come on! They all but tried to kill me! It’s their fault that idiot subcontracted freaking minotaurs and sent them at my family! I can’t even imagine what you would do if they threatened somepony you cared about.”

The statement gets a deep frown from the mare and, with a genuinely hurt look she says, “I care very much about your wellbeing, Cure. More than you can imagine. For the safety of all of you,” she adds, looking to the parents as well. Turning back to meet his softened look, she continues, “But you are no longer in danger. Whoever sent them had months to prepare and knew better than to make an attempt in your home town.”

“Ugh, emotional manipulation. Totally unfair,” Cure sighs. “You know exactly what I mean, princess.”

She lets out a sigh and gives a small nod. “As for the ponies who were sent after you, we have had little success in gaining any useful information. Green Slip’s attorney met with him for a few hours yesterday and filed a motion for him to be released on his own recognizance.” The suggestion causes alarmed looks from the parents and a curious one from the colt. “It will be denied, of course, simply based on the testimony from the minotaurs, his own employees, and the seriousness of the charges.”

With a shrug she adds, “It’s a standard legal maneuver. Sometimes somepony will get lucky and have a lenient judge grant it, but with crimes against a foal that will not happen. They know I would immediately dismiss them from their position if they were to do so.”

“Have you considered letting him out and following him to see who he meets with? Maybe have some paperwork conveniently get mixed up so it doesn’t blow back on the judge or set a bad precedent. I would assume he would try to contact whoever hired him, at least to try to blackmail them to get him outta the country.”

The question gets a thoughtful frown from the mare. Slowly, she admits, “That is an interesting idea, but I had not. I would be concerned with him getting away were we to do so.”

“I put a scent marker in his mane like my plants.”

The princess fully sets the papers on the table and rubs at her forehead with a hoof. After a moment, she stops and meets the colt’s eyes. “Is there anything else you’re not telling me, Cure? I know you would not lie to me, and I understand everypony has a right to their own privacy, but in regards to this investigation I would appreciate you being more forthright.”

He shrugs in response, explaining, “I only did it ‘cause I was worried he may have somepony workin in the Guard that would help him escape. Honestly I kinda wish I’d done the same with all the others, but I do have their scents either way.” In a sincere voice he explains, “It didn’t seem relevant until now, highness.”

Sighing, she slowly nods her head in acceptance. “I suppose it was not. I will come right out and ask, then… In your repertoire of capabilities, can you think of any other ways you may be able to help this investigation?”

“None you would be okay with.”

The answer gets a concerned look from the mare. “How do you mean?”

“I… don’t want to upset anypony, but my talent could be used to extract information from somepony, I’m guessing, very effectively without doing any physical harm. At least, not permanently.”

“No, I would not condone such a thing.”

“And I would not do such a thing,” he immediately responds. “At least, not under almost any circumstances. Maybe engineered scenarios, and such.”

“Pardon?”

Title jumps in to answer. “We were talking about cutie marks and Cure suggested there’s likely not any that reflect an activity that has no possible ‘good’ to it. He made a valid point that, if you really think about it, there’s a scenario you could come up with, even if it’s basically impossible to occur naturally, where almost any act could result in a positive. An engineered scenario.”

“I am not sure I would agree.”

“It’s not a pleasant conversation topic,” Cure points out, “but we’re getting off topic. The bottom line is that I can’t think of anything specific to help right now that I would be willing to do given the circumstances. I’m making suggestions as ideas come. Really, I’m not trying to be difficult. It’s not like I’ve ever investigated a crime before.

“I will tell you that my senses are all far better than even your own. Except sight; that’s about the same, though I can telescope my eyes like eagles. Smelling and hearing are far better, not to mention other senses ponies don’t typically have like heat sense.”

“Duplicates of creatures in nature?” she asks.

“Yep. Dogs, cats, moths, mosquitos, and so forth. Remember I told you I asked for directions when I brought you breakfast?”

“Yes… I assume you did not need to?”

“Right. I did ask anyway just so nopony would wonder why I was wandering around the halls. And so they knew what I was doing. Unless you took special measures like teleporting long distance or covering your scent I could find you across the city, probably.”

“I see. Interesting.” She takes a moment to consider the option, lets out a small sigh, and slowly nods. “Very well. I’ll discuss the matter with Cpt. Shield and Lt. Spear. With your blessing,” she looks to the parents, all of whom nod in agreement, “and if the captain agrees then I will arrange it next week.

“The zebras are still being obstinate, but with charges of terrorism, attempted foalnapping, attempted destruction of royal property, and possession of banned substances… Well, they won’t be going anywhere for a long, long time. We are working to determine whether they were here at the employ of a specific tribe or at the behest of the legitimate government, but given their ambassador’s unhelpfulness thus far, I have my suspicions.”

“Any word on how that researcher knew about my trees?”

“Ah! Yes! Here,” she pulls out a report to read. “Apparently somepony sold that information to the company. That’s why we’re confident he was not working alone. If we can identify who the recipient of that information was we are confident we can determine the source and, ultimately, who may be distributing your identity. I am prepared to grant clemency in exchange for their cooperation in identifying the seller. Relatively speaking, the theft of a decoy tree is minor in comparison.”

“The only ponies that know much about my capabilities are your guards and the Baltimare RHA. And, I suppose, some of my coworkers at the clinic may have an inkling. They knew I’d be comin for the Wonderbolts opener too, but not about the trees. I doubt any of my cosmetic customers would make the assumption I’m the same pony and they wouldn’t know I was traveling. Is there a way to subpoena financial records to see if anypony that I work with has had a few large, unexplained deposits over the last four months?”

The princess pauses for a moment and casts a critical eye at the colt. “That… is a fantastic idea. Again, your breadth of knowledge amazes me, Cure. Someday you will have to share with me how you are so well informed.”

“I’ve read a lot,” he casually answers, fortunately able to fight back the uncomfortable squirm from her long stare.

“I believe you,” she lightly assures him, tactfully expressing that she does not believe that to be the full story. “I will issue an order for the banks in Baltimare and surrounding areas to cooperate with Captain Stance in her investigation. If anypony at the hospital or clinic has been selling your information then I will be most displeased.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sure. And I reiterate; I do not want you taking direct action, Cure.”

“Fine!” he huffs.

“Ya mentioned an officer as a pony of interest,” Deed remembers. “I’m guessin somepony has looked inta their finances?”

“Not yet. That will be done as part of the larger investigation. If there’s somepony out there selling Cure’s information it is entirely possible the officer is innocent. That they are related to a pharmaceutical executive may simply be coincidence.”

“Or they may be who sent the thief that hit my party.”

“A possibility we’ve considered,” she agrees.

“Is selling information even a crime?” Title asks. “I mean… it sounds sketchy, but what about that is actually illegal?”

“It is not,” Celestia answers, “unless it is being sold specifically with the intent, expected, or likely outcome of endangering somepony. In this case, the obvious result of selling information about a pony that could cost a company or country significant revenue is to endanger that pony.

“The seller, in this instance, can be held responsible for aiding and abetting the resultant crime; specifically, foalnapping, theft, and destruction of property. They may not have considered that when selling the information, but it is the end result nonetheless.”

“Ah,” the pink mare nods in understanding. “That makes sense.” After a second’s thought her eyes widen in realization. “Oh wow! Somepony could be on the hook for some serious sh… stuff and they probably have no idea.”

“I suspect they have some idea,” Celestia gently corrects, “though perhaps not.” Seeing the confusion on everypony else’s face, she explains, “Aiding and abetting a crime carries the same punishment as the crime itself. I would hope that somepony is not so avaricious as to risk their very life or their freedom for whatever paltry amount they were given, but…” she drifts off, waving to the folders in front of her.

“True. I wonder how much they made. And if they sold to the zebras as well. I bet they woulda paid a fortune to know.”

“Hopefully we will soon find out. I will send the command immediately.” Her horn flashes and an official looking scroll appears on the table in front of her. Levitating her quill, she writes out several lines, then uses the spell Cure recognizes from the other night to sign and stamp it.

She rolls it up, materializes an envelope, casts something on the envelope itself, pauses to shoot him a wink when she notices his attention, then crams the scroll into the envelope before casting some spell that incinerates it and launches the resulting smoke through the crack between the balcony doors.

“Showoff,” he quietly mumbles.

She gives him a smug smile, then says, “That is actually a spell I can teach you eventually, Cure. There are some things that alicorns can do that are simply not possible for unicorns. This and other such abilities draw from the second pool you will begin developing.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm. It may be some time before you are able to send anything terribly far, though. With you being a foal, not to mention newly ascended, I am sure your abilities are rather limited for now. At the very least I can now send you messages directly.”

Title asks, “How long does it take for an alicorn to grow in that capacity?”

“He will steadily grow in power for many many decades, but I expect his growth during his developmental years to be significant. Though I admit, our experience with such is extremely limited.”

“Right, makes sense,” she acknowledges with a nod. “Is he gonna stay a foal longer?”

The question gets very different responses from Cure and Vines. The colt’s still fur-covered wings nearly pop out in a panic, held still only by his dam’s tightened embrace. Vines, meanwhile, lights up in joy, renewing her squeezing and nuzzling of her son. The other four get a quick laugh out of the flummoxed colt’s alarm.

“I do not believe so,” Celestia answers. “She…” she pauses, weighing her words, “... my sister,” she says, continuing despite the hitch in her voice, “ascended younger than I. She matured at a normal pace despite the change.”

“Damn, yer parents must’a been somethin,” Cure notes. “Not a single pony ascends, like… ever, then they have two daughters pull it off? Them’s some quality genes right there.”

Smiling fondly, Celestia nods in agreement. “They were wonderful ponies. I will never not miss them. It was our dam’s sacrifice that provided the push,” she finishes, gaining a far away look. Everypony remains quiet as a solemn atmosphere descends on the room. Celestia closes her eyes, reliving some event from millenia ago. Several long seconds pass in silence until she takes a deep breath, then lets out a long sigh.

“Would a hug help, princess?” Title softly offers.

With a hopeful look, she nods to the pink mare. It only takes a moment for a pile to surround the princess, hugging her from all sides as she sits on her haunches and wraps her forelegs and wings around three moms and his sire. Still holding his dozing sister, Cure looks on in envy.

It takes a moment, but the group eventually disperses, retaking their seats and leaving behind a slightly smiling princess. She mumbles a soft thanks before clearing her throat. “It will probably be at least five years before your mane and tail start changing, by the way.”

“Oh, fudge! I hadn’t even thought of that! Can you hide it? Well, I mean, obviously you can…”

“You can, yes. You do need an outlet of some kind, though, be it via magic use, pushing yourself in flight, or through your talent. Please take care, though. You must become accustomed to the changes now that you have the ability to use pegasus magic. Despite your aptitude with flight you will still need to learn how to control the weather as well. Perhaps a semester at the local pegasus school would be helpful.”

“Can I only take those classes? I don’t need math and stuff.”

“I am aware. I believe that can be arranged, yes. The school year is almost over, so perhaps starting in the fall?”

“The girls’ll be thrilled, sport.”

“I’m sure they would be,” he agrees, “but I may just hire a tutor instead. I don’t plan on being a weatherpony and, really, princess, how often do you need to go out and push clouds around?”

“Not often,” she concedes. “Though in an emergency I would be remiss if I could not contribute.” Sighing softly, she agrees, “If you do not wish to attend a traditional school then I suppose a tutor will suffice. I am certain Captain Stance has somepony she can recommend if you would like.”

“Maybe I can just check with Sgt. Bulwark? Or, Glacial’s sire is a weatherpony. I bet he knows somepony that could tutor me for a few extra bits or whatever.”

“Very well. Inform me if you have difficulty finding one. I will arrange for it myself if necessary.”

“Cool. Thanks, princess.”

“Certainly,” she says with a nod. “One thing I suspect you’ll be quite relieved about; you should be highly resistant to mental influence now. I know you had expressed concern about that specifically. Only another alicorn could even potentially succeed, so you need not worry about that.”

“Are you sure we’re the only ones?”

Celestia pauses, brows furrowing in consideration. “I suppose it is possible there may be others. I can’t fathom why they would hide. Or how, for that matter. Your own ascension was, after all, quite unsubtle. That was one of my first thoughts upon seeing your horn and wings on Thursday; how was I not informed? Between our introduction and dinner I had sent a missive to Captain Stance inquiring if any such a display occurred and was not reported.”

The statement gets a cringe from the colt. He hadn’t considered that he may be getting somepony in trouble, but at least his widely verified ascension should get anypony in Baltimare off the hook.

“Speaking of your ascension, how is it that you were able to return so quickly? I was moments away from coming to guide you before… that,” she waves to the balcony, “happened.”

“I just wanted to see my family,” he answers with a shrug. “I just kinda… willed it, I guess? I dunno.”

“That is how it works,” she agrees. “And that is how you can return there, as well.”

“So… we could basically meet in there whenever?”

Celestia pauses, brow furrowed in thought. “I hadn’t considered using the astral realm as a means of communication, but yes. It could serve as such.”

“Can you tell when I go there?”

“I should be able to, yes. Again, that is why I was so surprised. I could feel when you were about to return as well. It may be a while before you develop the senses needed to tell when I do the same.”

“Wanna set up a schedule, then? Maybe every Sunday just after sunset? Even if it’s a two minute, ‘All is well, see ya next week’ thing at least you’ll have a way to make sure I’m not causing too much trouble.”

“That sounds wonderful. Be careful where you travel from though. You will normally return to the same spot upon your return. We accidentally discovered that if an object is in the way it is quite violently thrown aside, including other ponies, so I recommend designating a clear spot for that.”

“So don’t do it on the train, babe,” Title teasingly suggests. The idea gets cringes from everypony when they realize the implications.

“Well… that sounds like a heck of an escape route too,” Cure observes.

“There should never be a reason for you to utilize it as such, but I suppose so.” The statement gets a confused look from everypony. She deflates slightly with a sigh and, almost reluctantly, explains, “I had not wanted to broach this subject until later, but… alicorns, as far as we know, cannot perish. At least, not permanently.”

If Cure had been told that, at that moment, every atom in the room had frozen in place, he would sincerely believe it. He nearly has to check to ensure his heart is still beating. He’s only sure his parents are okay due to his dam’s quiet gasp and slightly tightened hold.

“I…” he begins, unsure how to even finish. “Huh. That may be the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard. Ever.”

The princess blinks a couple times in surprise. “I had anticipated relief, if anything.”

Title, muzzle scrunched in distaste, solemnly admits, “I can think of a few scenarios where being unable to die would be pretty awful.”

“I guess it depends on whether or not there’s a way to keep ya from teleportin away,” Deed half agrees.

“I admit, there is little known about the ability to move between planes,” Celestia explains. “Aside from my sister and present company, fewer than a dozen ponies have been aware of the capability over the course of my entire life. Our teacher emphasized the importance of keeping that secret. I share only with you all because it has such an immense impact on your son. And, I am loath to ask Cure not to share something of that nature with his parents.”

“We appreciate ya trustin us, yer highness. Upon pain ‘a death, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Blossom. I pray that such a scenario never befalls you, though.” Celestia turns her gaze to the contemplative colt. “Cure, are you okay? I am sorry if that disturbs you somehow, but I would not hide such an important facet of your existence from you.”

“No… I’m fine. I mean, I guess it’s good as long as, like my sire said, you can’t get trapped somewhere.” After letting a shudder pass through his body at the idea it occurs to him that he probably shouldn’t say more. That is, after all, exactly what’s happened to Luna, and he is doing his best to avoid rubbing salt in that particular wound.

Seeking a subject change, the colt continues, “Out of morbid curiosity… How exactly was that whole ‘can’t die’ thing discovered? I mean, I’m guessing somepony didn’t hoof ya a manual at Ascension Emporium or whatever.”

“That would have been very convenient,” she lightly agrees. “No, unfortunately the first time I died was to poison while visiting a neighboring barony to discuss an alliance.”

“I hafta ask,” Amethyst begins, “how hard did they soil themselves when ya came back?”

“Wait, wait! I mean… how’s that work?” Title asks, “Were they like… half way through burying your corpse and you just hop outta the hole and shout, ‘Howdy y’all!’ or something?”

“Oh wow, if there’s ever a time for a one liner, that would be it,” Cure notes.

“I did not leave a corpse behind,” Celestia calmly explains. “I awoke in the astral and, upon returning to this plane, found myself falling through the sky from a rather significant height. Only an hour had passed.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t sign the alliance agreement,” Lemon inquires.

“I did not get the opportunity to. In my exuberance I consumed both mine own and my sister’s drink. Upon my collapse she panicked. After watching as my physical remains dispersed into motes of light, as she later described, she quite abruptly made known her displeasure with our hosts.”

Cure nods knowingly, “Asked to speak to the manager, didn’t she? She got comped for the meal, I hope.”

“She razed the manor to the bedrock.”

“Good.”

“With the conspirators inside.”

“Even better,” Cure states approvingly.

“That,” she points at him, “is exactly why I do not want you directly involved in the investigation,” she explains. “I fully understand the desire for vengeance, Cure. I cannot even claim I would have done differently in my sister’s stead.

“Those were different times, though, and we live in a civilized nation now. Many tens of thousands of beings have struggled and died to ensure that, and I will not allow anypony to sully their sacrifice by going on some sort of rampage hunting down those who have wronged them.”

Deed turns to face the princess fully and, in a sincere tone, says, “I agree with the colt, highness. Some ponies will take the lack of decisive action as weakness. I don’t like the idea ‘a him havin ta hurt somepony, but I really don’t like tha idea they think they can get away with tryin again. Where would we be right now if he hadn’t been waitin for ‘em?”

“I understand, Mr. Deed. Everypony,” she adds, meeting each one’s eyes. “Believe me, it would be much easier if I could just throw somepony in a room and force the answers from them. But I will not allow such things to be done to anycreature simply to expedite justice. That is not how this nation has worked for nearly a thousand years, and I shall not allow it as long as I rule.”

The declaration is met by an uneasy silence. It’s not an ideal scenario, but then no such thing truly exists most of the time. The family certainly isn’t expecting her to go out kicking down doors and dragging ponies out into the street or anything. That’s a slippery slope to tyranny, after all. At the same time the lack of quick, easy answers is frustrating.

The only similar experience Cure has to compare it to is when someone stole Cyndi’s car when she was in a Planet Fitness. She’d left her keys in the locker when she changed and, a quick snip with a bolt cutter later, the guy was on his way across town.

The cameras weren’t good enough and not angled to capture his face due to his hat, and since there wasn’t any violence the police considered it a low priority, never finding the culprit; only the emptied and severely damaged car.

That was far more trivial than what somepony attempted here, but the helpless feeling is similar. It sucks and there’s not a whole lot Cure can do right now, so he basically just has to accept that. What’s worse is that the princess has directly commanded him, in no uncertain terms, that he is not to take action. He could probably get his grandsire involved but that could put the now youthful stallion on the princess’s shit list if something went wrong. Or even right, maybe.

Cure figures the only way he’ll be able to get away with taking action is if somecreature comes after him again. Given that would likely put his friends or family in the crosshairs too, he dares not hope that mistake is made. Also, it’s entirely possible that whatever surveilling force the princess has in place would stop them, or at least become aware of them, before he could wring answers out of them.

As grating as it is, he can’t think of any viable options that will solve everything. Instead, the only thing going through his mind is that if he’d known the princess was like this eight months ago he could have saved himself a lot of unnecessary stress. In a way it’s a relief, but still disappointing. Nopony wants a tyrant, but an iron-hoofed dictator would probably have this all sorted out by lunch.

After a few minutes Vines seeks to dispel the unpleasant atmosphere that has settled in the room. “We’re not upset, your highness. We do understand. Our stallions are just very protective of us, that is all.”

“I know, dear. And that is to be admired. The only thing I ask is that they remain patient and allow the justice system to do what it is designed to do. Were circumstances such that any of you stood accused of a crime you would certainly expect, and rightly so, that proper procedure be followed. That is, after all, the very definition of fairness, which is what any justice system should strive for.”

The statement gets nods, some less enthusiastic than others, from everypony. She’s right, of course, and the fact she’s even bothering to explain it instead of simply saying “because I say so” is a credit to the mare. Cure suspects she wouldn’t normally bother doing so for most, so he’s grateful she is being as accommodating, and patient, as she is.

“It’s nearly ten,” Cure says with a sigh, glancing out the balcony doors. “Were there other huge revelations my parents need to know? You’re not gonna try to do something like… I dunno, say, ‘Oh by the way you’re a prince now, here’s your crown. Congrats!’ or something are ya?”

The princess purses her lips and looks away while squirming. “Maaaaaybe?” she hesitantly admits. The bashful response is met with giggles from three moms and slightly wary looks from his dam and sire. Cure gives the princess the flattest deadpanned look he can muster.

“... What did you do?!” he asks, as if scolding a misbehaving puppy.

“I… may have, maybe, sent a missive or two.”

“What?! When? It’s been like,” he pauses, pulling his watch out of his mane, then struggles with it for a moment looking perplexed. “What the fudge? Did it break?”

“The enchantment,” Title reminds him.

“Ah. That… hurts more than I expected,” he sighs out, ears sagging under the realization.

Vines looks on confused. “Why isn’t it working?”

“Is that a blood bound enchantment?” Celestia asks. “If so, I can fix it for you. I am somewhat of an accomplished mage, if you recall.”

Cure nods and floats it over to her. She spends only a minute analyzing it before her horn begins glowing. A moment later she passes it back and explains, “it will still work for relatives based on your last blood sample. You will need to add a new sample to continue using it.”

“Thanks, boss. There’s your biometric security too,” he points out, waving at the watch. “Assuming those things couldn’t fake blood, at least. Have each guard bind a badge or something that is kept at the garrison, then make them activate it to sign in.”

She slowly nods in thought for a moment before commenting, “I will task Cpt. Shield with looking into it. I’m not sure if they could fool the enchantment but it should stop any mundane form of impression quite effectively. That’s never been a huge concern though.”

“Right,” he accepts. If the current system has worked for centuries he can get why they would be hesitant to change without a good reason. After a moment of nuzzling into his dam he picks up where he left before the distraction. “So when did this missive go out anyhow? It couldn’t have been just now; I don’t think it’s even been half an hour.”

“Umm… Thursday night?”

“You… set something up after I told you I wasn’t a real alicorn?” She nods. “Why?”

Deed and the three moms look back and forth between the pair like they’re watching a tennis match.

“Oh, come now, Cure, the writing was on the wall! I just made some arrangements for if or when it eventually happened. Sun and stars, it’s not as if I knew you would pull it off only two days later!”

“Really? It seems like I would have had to… I dunno… do more?”

“Your trees alone will reshape the entire nation!”

“Yeah but only the virus ones were really complicated. My talent kinda makes the other stuff easy.”

“And my talent made moving the sun as a lone unicorn possible.”

“So we got hoofed a super-talent at birth and everyone else just gets… I dunno, kinda screwed over?”

“I believe that it is likely any pony could ascend. Just like some are born stronger, or faster, or smarter, though, some have a greater chance to achieve it. Life is not fair, after all. Even with a greater chance, one must still do good and live by the tenets of Harmony.”

“Oh.”

“To be honest, I was nearly certain the birth of your siblings would spark your ascension.”

“What? Why?”

“You used your talent to cause the birth of a foal that would not otherwise have existed! That is huge, Cure!”

“There’s also the half-identical twins thing,” Lemon supplies.

“Half identical?” Celestia asks.

When Cure doesn’t answer Vines speaks up. “He duplicated the egg before conception. The foals will be half-identical twins instead of identical or fraternal.”

Celestia is taken aback slightly as she ponders on it. Slowly, she nods in agreement saying, “Yes… I believe that would have done it had the ritual today not. I cannot be sure, but it feels plausible.”

“Is that why you invited us to the Celebration?” Title asks. “I remember that only came up after we talked about this the other night.”

“Partially,” she answers honestly. “I also wanted to give Cure the opportunity to help, and, of course, have the benefit of the greatest healer available for my expecting dams. I also just enjoy having company that isn’t looking to get some kind of benefit from our association.”

“You are welcome to come visit us as well, highness,” Vines insists with a broad smile. “I know you don’t get many opportunities to just disappear but if you want to sometimes, feel free to just drop in.”

“Thank you, Vines dear. I may just take you up on the offer some time.”

“You still didn’t say what you did,” Cure reminds her.

Sighing, Celestia gives the colt a pleading look. “You have to understand, Cure. You are a Prince of Equestria by definition! You’re an alicorn! You can’t not be a prince! Our purpose is to serve our little ponies and ensure their safety. To inspire them. I don’t mind if you wear a disguise and I don’t ask that you do anything beyond what you already are, but…”

“You are planning to crown me at the Summer Sun Celebration.”

Cure’s statement draws gasps from Vines and Lemon. Amethyst and Title bark out a laugh before stifling any more. Deed just chuckles at the colt’s exasperated demeanor.

Celestia smiles broadly and bats her lashes at him, leaning forward and fluffing her big, beautiful wings invitingly with their tantalizingly soft warmth. “Please, Cure? The title does come with benefits, you know.” The suggestive manner it’s said in gets raised brows from the parents, even if they’re pretty sure she didn’t mean it like that. Cure struggles to peel his eyes away from the promised land to scowl at the ageless siren.

Title leans over to her husband and whispers, “He’s toast.”

Celestia smiles broadly and adds, “You would be second in line for the throne once you’re of age.”

“You need to fire whoever drew up my psych profile if they said that would entice me. As far as I’m concerned that’s not a benefit. If you weren’t immortal that would send me running for the border. Any border, in fact. Whichever is closest.”

She continues despite his snark. “You would also have legitimate authority. You could even issue orders to Guard units!” More quietly she adds, “... within reason.”

The colt leans back and lets out a loud, low, drawn out groan, causing his sister to stir before resettling. He closes his eyes and lets out an enormous sigh before sagging down around the filly. After a moment of deliberation he sits up and opens his eyes to meet her hopeful gaze. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch! I may, occasionally, ask that you join me for events. You’re not required to and may leave at any point, but you may find some very interesting. I meet with many different creatures from all over the world, many of whom you may not have the opportunity to meet for a long time otherwise.”

“What about the nobles? They’re going to lose their minds when they’ve found an interloper wedged in, further distancing them from their ambitions.”

“Fie, I say!” she shouts, waving a wing dismissively. “They may play their silly games all they want. At the end of the day they barely have any real power, and I have veto authority over their foalish decisions. They can scarcely agree on anything beyond what’s needed to keep Equestria running.

“What power could they ever truly have over you anyhow? They do not cure the sick or heal the injured. They do not create trees of mending or offer longer lives. They do not offer the solution to hundreds of thousands of lonely mares! If they truly pushed you and I did not intervene, you need only stop your work and there is little they could do.”

Pleadingly, the princess beseeches the colt. “Please, Cure… I will only ask of you what you are willing to give, nothing more, I promise! Let our little ponies share in this joyous occasion and, if you desire, return to Baltimare to do as you wish until you are prepared to do more.”

“Dooooo eeeet,” Title lowly whispers, barely holding back a laugh.

Cure gives her a quick scowl and focuses back on the princess. “What if I want to travel? I don’t just get to be a pony visiting another country anymore. Instead, I’m foreign royalty now, with all that entails.”

“Not every trip has to be a diplomatic mission, Cure. You can just… go somewhere. It’s not as if I could prevent you from doing so in disguise anyhow.”

“You could order me not to.”

“I do not make a habit of issuing orders I am confident will be ignored.”

“I’ll have to report to you, though.”

“In a way, you do anyhow. Everypony does. I am the High Princess, last I checked.”

“And I’m a free citizen that can simply leave the country if I so choose.”

“And again, you could anyhow. It’s a crown, not a set of shackles. I would hope that should an issue drive you to that point you bring it to me first. I am certainly not trying to entrap you.”

“You’re really not going to up and say, ‘You’re in charge of Baltimare’ or whatever at some point?”

“I would be thrilled if, at some point in the future, whether it be fifteen or fifty years, you would be voluntarily looking to lead our ponies in some capacity, but I will not force you to do anything. I’ve been there. It was terrifying! I would not force that upon another, especially without preparation.”

“What about having a troupe of guards following me everywhere?”

“That would only be necessary while attending duties as a royal. They are merely here for the station. I do not think a single soul out there truly believes I need guardians! For any threat that is not a farce their orders are to ensure everypony else’s safety and stay out of my way.”

Silence fills the room for a few moments as the two stare at each other. Cure with wary suspicion and Celestia with naked hopefulness.

The colt blinks first. Growling, he looks away and lets out an annoyed huff. Meeting each ones’ eyes he tells his parents, “This impacts you all just as much as it does me. I want to hear what your thoughts are.”

Deed shrugs, saying, “It sounds like not a lot ‘ll change, son. At least not till yer ready for it ta. Can’t say I’m seein a downside here. I mean… you’ve suggested plenty ‘a ideas ta make things better. What better way can ya see ta get ‘em done?”

“Private industry!” he immediately answers. Looking to the princess he asks, “Will I be limited somehow in regards to any business dealings? My own business or my grandsire, for example… is there anything that would prevent me from seeing patients or working with him?”

“No. Prince Blueblood has numerous business interests; travel, art, and social clubs stand out prominently. I, as you observed, have business dealings in relation to my own image, not to mention my own school, even though that is not run as a for-profit institution. So long as you are doing business as a private individual and not a Prince of Equestria then there is no issue.”

“If you have too much, feel free to sell some fruit to supplement your nonprofits, princess. I’m fine with that. Hadn’t considered that before to be honest.”

“It will depend on their yield, but I appreciate that, Cure.”

“Sure. If anything comes up that could be questionable I would run that by you first anyhow. Not that I see it being an issue anytime soon, but if I were to agreeand they start making toys in my image will that be taken care of by the same ponies you use?”

“Yes, though if you ever wanted to make some kind of separate ‘Cure Wave’ product we may need to discuss the details to make sure we’re keeping the individual and the position separate. For me, myself and my station are too linked for me to separate them at this point.”

“Fair. You may want to have them pump some out before the event. Make the first thousand collectors items with proceeds going to your usual charities or whatever. Maybe something to spread magical knowledge to earth ponies. I could supply a real alicorn primary feather with them easily enough, though maybe only the first twenty or ponies will think yer pluckin me bald. Sell ‘em in an auction format and the top thousand pay their bid price.”

“That… is another amazing idea. I would normally have not considered the feather idea, but it is brilliant. Are you certain your talent is not business related?”

“You would think,” Lemon answers, “His ideas have made my shop a fortune.”

“Same with our business,” Title agrees.

“Yeah they’re doing so well they had to go out and hire a spy, err, an employee I mean. Hey, mom,” he calls to Lemon, “maybe somepony will conveniently show up looking for a job that can run the retail part of the store while you do the kitchen stuff.” The accusation, big fake, toothy smile, wink, and knowing look he gives the princess cause her eyes to slightly widen in surprise.

“I may need to hire somepony,” the candy mare agrees, gaining a contemplative look. “Not a bad idea…”

Cure more conspicuously winks at the princess and makes a motion like he’s writing a note, then gestures to his big smile while nodding. The surprised look changes into a worried one instead.

“Tha colt also got Dawn her first customers,” Deed adds. The family has heard Cure’s assertion plenty of times so they don’t even react to the blatantly unsubtle display.

“I’m pretty sure ruling has little to do with raising the sun,” he points out. A sudden, random thought crosses his mind. “Nopony could like… use a feather to curse me or something, right?”

“No, Cure. Not unless freshly plucked. Metaphysical connections like that only last a few weeks.”

“Huh. Neat.” He looks to Title and asks, “Thoughts, ma?”

“I think it’ll be fun,” Title says, grinning broadly. “You’ve always been most concerned about somepony taking away your freedom. Well?” she waves a hoof towards the princess. “Sounds like that won’t be an issue.”

“Can ya think a’ any reason not ta?” Amethyst asks in genuine curiosity.

“Yes!” he instantly shouts.

The dark mare stares patiently, waiting for some kind of clarification. Finally, she waves a hoof invitingly to coax an explanation.

He deflates slightly when he comes up empty. “Not anything specific. I mean, if I’ll not be beholden to the whims of some noble or something,” Celestia quickly shakes her head no even before he finishes the sentence, “I’m struggling to think of a negative here. You mentioned Prince Blueblood. There’s other princes and princesses, right? They’re just not alicorns, is my understanding.”

“Only him,” she corrects. “He is the descendent of a cousin, so I call him nephew even if he is not. Prince Blueblood the… forty-fifth?” She furrows her brows in thought for a moment, slowly nodding. “I believe that is correct. Frankly the whole name thing became a joke after about the sixth one.

“Regardless, he is a unicorn and has a colt that is almost of age, so that title will likely soon change hooves at which point he’ll somewhat retire. His son is thirteen, nearly fourteen, so over the next few years he’ll probably bestow the title on to him, as has been done every other time in their family’s history, and begin transferring management of his businesses over the next couple decades. It’s not like they have ever actually ruled anything, aside from a country club lounge, perhaps.

“They have always addressed me as their aunt, including their wives, so don’t let that surprise you. Your title will be permanent and of a higher standing.”

Cure is aware that, due to the polygamous nature of ponies, higher titles are not inherited by every single child. If they were there could be literally hundreds of each type, given that a single titled stallion could, with society’s blessing, sire dozens of foals by as many mares. It’s encouraged that they do so, in fact, though unicorn culture is a little weird about it.

He isn’t sure what that will mean for his eventual foals, though, as there is not currently any precedent to make assumptions based off of. More than likely they will be “lord” and “lady” which, while they are titles of nobility, carry no real authority.

“Technically, you will be a Grand Prince, though your actual authority will be limited until you are older and have shown responsibility sufficient to earn it.” With a minute shrug of her wings she adds, “I’m sure they’ll make an attempt to introduce you to a daughter, particularly the younger as she is about your age, but you certainly are under no obligation to humor such advances.”

“I’m sure the girls will love that,” he dryly comments. “Especially Dawn.”

“Anypony you take as a wife would be a princess consort. I’m assuming, based on your interactions with the other foals, that you are not in a relationship with your friend Heavy Lift?”

“No, princess,” he says, barely holding back any kind of negative response. Homosexual relationships, even between males, are not taboo in society, though there is a slight negative outlook on stallions that fail to sire foals given the low population numbers and birthrates. “I am not attracted to colts.”

She shrugs indifferently and nods in acceptance. “Then the prince consort title would not apply.”

Cure looks at Lemon and raises a brow in question. “Any thoughts, mom?”

“Not really. I mean… I was definitely not prepared for all this,” she waves to the room at large and, specifically between the two alicorns, “but hay, it’ll be interesting if nothin else, right? Are you like… literally putting a crown on him?”

“Of course. He need not wear it outside of official functions, but he will have one.”

“That is a terrifying prospect,” he idly comments. He looks up to the one pony who has not yet expressed an opinion one way or the other. “Dam?”

“All I want is for you to be safe and happy, sweetheart. I’ll admit… the thought of you being the center of so much attention frightens me, but I know you can manage it. If her highness thinks it best and you agree then I will too.”

“Ugh… I can’t believe this,” he sighs. “Like, literally. If this is a terrible idea I’m going to remember this moment,” he pauses to fish out his watch. Scowling at the thing, he hoofs it to his dam who, after rolling her eyes, activates the illusion. He waves at the time and continues, “and find a way to travel back in time and give myself a sign to say no right now,” he finishes in a raised voice.

He looks around for a moment and notes that his parents are all holding their breath and glancing about the room as well. The princess is smiling broadly and staring at him, waiting for an answer, steadily bouncing faster as nothing materializes. When no evidence makes itself known he sags and, in a defeated tone, says, “Fiiiine, I guess.”

“Splendid!” Celestia merrily cheers, hooves clapping in glee while her wings idly flutter behind her. “I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am! This will be the greatest Sun Celebration ever!”

She suddenly disappears in a flash of light, only to reappear to Vines and Cure’s right, wrapping them both, and his sister, by proxy, in a tight embrace, wiggling side to side, nearly dancing in glee. “Oh I can’t wait to make the official announcement!”

Sighing despite the warm, happy embrace, Cure can’t help but wonder exactly how badly he just fucked up.

Author's Note

I think I went through about a dozen titles before I finally gave up and rolled with what I had; some were pretty bad.

You're getting this chapter about fourteen hours early because my Monday is doing to be too busy for me to have time to publish tomorrow.

So... yeah, that happened. This'll no doubt leave everyone with several questions, and you won't have all of your answers for another chapter or two at a minimum. Some not even then. Hopefully the ratings won't explode in red, but... eh, these things happen.

Big C definitely dropped some bombs on the group. The two big things are the immortality and the foal issue, obviously. Keep in mind, she said "as far as we know" on the former, so she's basically saying "It may be possible, but I haven't found a way." That has some very dark connotations, possibly, but we won't be delving into that anytime soon.

The foal thing is because I thought it did a good job explaining why there's no record of either having any foals despite it being insanely unlikely they are still virgins. In fact, in the early years of a ruler's reign one of the highest priorities is producing a child. They wouldn't have instantly known they were either unkillable nor unaging, after all. Cure even comments that no one gave her a manual, so logic dictates they probably tried repeatedly, at least early on. Maybe not so much after a hundred years when they still looked 25, though.

I know a lot of people will lose their minds over him agreeing to the coronation. Celestia played him like a fiddle. She's found his weak points and hits every single one, so why would he refuse? He gains everything and, as far as he can tell, isn't giving up anything in return but his time on occasion, and she even sweetened the pot there. Plus, he is an alicorn now. Hiding won't work forever.

Oh well.

64 (the rest of Saturday) and 65 (Sunday in story) are already written and, to absolutely NOBODY'S surprise (at least, amongst those that have been paying attention), 65 got long enough I had to split it off into its own chapter.

So the plan is to release the next two chapters on the first and eighth, then take a few weeks off. Expect 66 towards the end of May at the earliest or, more likely, on June 5th.

Enjoy, folks! As always, thanks for reading.

Edit - Alt ending:

He looks around for a moment and notes that his parents are all holding their breath and glancing about the room as well. The princess is smiling broadly and staring at him, waiting for an answer, steadily bouncing faster as nothing materializes. Suddenly, directly in front of him, a tear in the world once again opens. As quickly as he can register the event a familiar, but larger, blue foreleg flies out of the hole, slamming a cream pie into his face before disappearing into the rift, which closes immediately after.

Vines, who had somehow been shielded from the spray, looks down at her son in confusion. All three moms are rolling on the floor, laughing uproariously as Celestia stares in wide-eyed shock.

Deed shrugs at the colt, idly pointing, "Well... ya asked fer a sign, son. There ya have it."

"That's bullshit!" he yells, fuming at the empty space before him. "I don't even have a way to get even now!"

"I... I'm confused," Celestia slowly admits. "Was that a yes?"

Nodding in defeat, Cure morosely admits, "Yeah. That was a yes." Grumbling under his breath, he can't help but add, "God, I'm such an asshole..."