Sunday, August 23nd, 909 AB (the next morning)

Cure trots up to the door, a small carriage towed behind him and his staff laid diagonally across his withers. He moves the carriage to the side and floats out the box of doughnuts. With a couple firm raps to the door, he calls out a cheery, “Knock, knock!” and waits patiently. Despite keeping his hearing to typical levels out of respect for everypony’s privacy, the surprised exclamation from behind the door is easy to discern.

It’s only a few seconds later when the door swings open. Ferric, now almost a full head taller than the colt, smiles broadly when their eyes meet. She manages a quiet, but genuine, “Good morning, Cure,” through her surprise.

“Good morning to you, too, beautiful,” he cheerfully greets, stepping closer to nuzzle into the underside of her chin. “I brought you ‘n yer dam breakfast,” he says with a slight tilt of his head towards the box.

“Really?” she excitedly asks as the smell of freshly baked confections reach her snout. She steps back into the house, motioning to the kitchen, dining room area behind and to her left. “Come on in. We already ate, but…”

Cure accepts the invitation, brushing his left side against hers as he passes by. “But there’s always room for another doughnut or two, amirite?”

“Mmhmm!” She pushes the door shut and skips over to the stairs located just behind her, calling up to her dam. “Cure’s here! He brought us doughnuts!”

“Fresh doughnuts?!” The clomping of hooves on wood in a rushed pace sounds out as the maroon mare rounds the top of the staircase. She comes to a stop as her eyes zero in on the colt before flicking to the box hovering by his side, then back to the disguised alicorn.

Cure picks up a slight flushing of her cheeks and some hesitance as she worries her bottom lip. He can understand why; the last time the two of them interacted was right after he witnessed her getting plowed by Ferric’s sire in his downstairs bathroom. He would never dream of telling any of the other foals, but he also didn’t hesitate to make them very aware that he, along with the unicorns, couldn’t help but observe the act.

“You betchya!” he calls in answer, acting completely nonchalant despite her distress. “Grabbed ‘em up on my way over just ten minutes ago, Miss Pick! How ‘bout you come on down and have a few with us?”

The embarrassment fades, though does not completely subside as she slowly makes her way down the stairs. “That was very sweet of you, your… erm,” she starts, fumbling her words slightly as she arrives at the base of the steps.

“Cure is fine, really,” he defers, good naturedly rolling his eyes. “The only time I’ll ever insist on formalities is when I’m in disguise or on the clock. Other than that, Cure, colt, hey you, or ‘that blue nuisance’ are all varying degrees of acceptable.”

The self deprecation, slight as it is, further calms the mare who lightly chuckles and nods in acceptance. She leads the pair into the kitchen and busies herself getting napkins and drinks ready. Ferric hops up on a booster by the table with her back to the wall opposite the rest of the kitchen, freezing when realization dawns that it’s the only one available. She turns and opens her mouth, clicking it shut when the colt flashes white, doubling in size as he takes a seat on her left. He blows a quick raspberry and teases, “Now who’s taller, hmm?” while sliding the box onto the table and scooting closer so their sides are touching.

A quiet chuckle escapes the filly as she takes in his larger form. “Uh huh. For now,” she challenges, “but how long can you keep that up?”

Cure detects the hitch in Diamond’s breath at the accidentally suggestive question from her daughter. She freezes mid-motion as she’s withdrawing a carton of orange juice from the fridge, then slowly turns her head right until her wide-eyed gaze lands on the pair. He can tell from the filly’s demeanor she is oblivious of the double entendre; as bashful as she is, she would probably blush hot enough to raise the room’s temperature a few degrees if she realized the alternative meaning.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he dismisses with a casual wave of his hoof. “Ever since I became an alicorn I find I don’t tire nearly as quickly. I’ll grant I would eventually run out of energy if I tried to hold it too long, but I’d be ready to Enlarge myself again after a few minutes rest.”

Diamond snorts a laugh into her fetlock, fairly confident that the colt’s suggestive remark was completely intentional.

The filly cocks her head to the side in thought. “It takes me almost an hour to recharge if I drain myself all the way.”

“I can manipulate the way my body produces magic, all the way down to the cellular level. Have you noticed you recharge faster after a good meal?”

She slowly nods yes.

“That’s because your body’s energy supply is being replenished. Super sugary treats work the best, of course. If you want, I could show you, but I’ll warn ya right now that it makes you pretty hot, too. It’s like turning your metabolism up to its highest and leaving it there, so you might as well be runnin full gallop even if yer not movin at all.”

Conversation pauses momentarily when Diamond sets out napkins, three glasses, and a box of orange juice on the table and sits opposite the pair. Cure’s staff visibly glows and the baker’s box lid lifts up at the same time the orange juice box folds open and pours a glass for each of them. “I got a couple each ‘a plain glazed, chocolate, frosted cinnamon, then custard, cream, and jelly-filled with icing. Ladies first,” he insists, turning the box in Diamond’s direction.

With a quiet thanks she picks out a jelly and a chocolate as the colt continues, “So I’m sure you’re both wondering why I stopped by. I assure you, I haven’t taken a side job as a doughnut delivery pony, even if I bet I could make a killing at it.” He brings the box closer and lifts it up for Ferric to take what she would like. She takes a glazed and a frosted cinnamon one and looks at him expectantly.

“I had planned on goin to my great grandsire’s house yesterday after junior guard training, but had some unexpected ‘prince’ work tie me up. Since I couldn’t make it yesterday, we rescheduled for today. One of my great grandmas is a sword specialist, but grandpa?” He lightly nudges Ferric’s side, saying, “Apparently the maul is more his speed. I was wonderin if you might like to join me today. Get a little exer-”

“Sure!” she shouts overtop of him, bobbing her head in eager acceptance.

“Sweet! Assuming,” he looks across the table, “that’s okay with you, Miss Pick? I brought my cart just in case you’d prefer to tag along. I’m sure they won’t mind if you’d like to watch, and flying you over there wouldn’t be a problem at all.”

“Fly?” she echoes. “You’re going to fly over to Baltimare?” The question is every bit as directed towards Ferric, who is suddenly looking a little nervous, as it is towards Cure.

“Absolutely. Don’t worry about a thing,” he insists, reaching in his mane to withdraw a folded up paper. He slides it across the table within her reach.

Diamond picks up the paper, a copy of the Fillydelphia Inquirer, that’s already open to an advertisement. She begins to open her mouth to inquire why he is showing her an ad for cosmetic alterations before it dawns on her that the foal is the one who placed it.

Before she can jump to any incorrect assumptions, Cure explains, “I flew my mom - Title, that is - all the way up to Filly and back just last Tuesday to place that ad. Going a few kilometers to Baltimare is no problem at all. Hay, I could just carry her on my back like this,” he motions to his Enlarged form and spreads his normally concealed wings, growing them out to their normal proportions as he does, “if you’re okay with us going alone. I can completely guarantee her safety, easily.

“And you,” he says, facing the filly as he envelopes her in his soft, warm wing that was previously hidden, “I know you’re scared of heights.” He gently hugs her to his side and tilts his head down, nuzzling his cheek against her crown and nosing her right ear. “I would never let any harm come to you, promise.”

The filly’s movements come to a halt. Her mouth falls open and a sound like a whistling teakettle escapes her throat. Cure can’t help but chuckle as he squeezes her even tighter. “You’re just too freaking adorable,” he teases, relishing the girl’s bashfulness.

Despite Diamond’s joy at seeing her sweet little girl receiving such tender affection from a colt - an alicorn prince, at that - the heartwarming display evokes the tiniest flicker of envy in the mare’s heart. It’s smothered right away, but she still can’t help but wonder why she hasn’t found her very own stallion to hold her tight. While borrowing Onyx every so often is rather nice, the satisfaction she gets from the stallion is far from the love and companionship she desires.

Unaware of her dam’s mixed emotions, Cure does his best to accommodate the dark filly. “Seriously, though, if you’d prefer I could make ya sleep on the flight over, but I think if you can survive the first minute you’ll really enjoy yourself. My mom sure did when I flew her around the city.”

The filly’s ears pin and Cure can feel the anxiety creep across her body. “I’ll tell ya what.” He jerks his head back towards the living room and suggests, “Let’s finish eating and I’ll show you.”

“Show me?”

“Yep. Right there in the living room. I’ll show you just how easy it is for me to carry you. That way you’ll know you have nothing to fear at all.”

Diamond looks between the enlarged alicorn and her only foal with no small amount of worry. Only the colt’s ascension and assurance that he flew his mom all the way to Fillydelphia prevent her from speaking up. She also considers the fact that he, along with a squad of pegasi, flew all the way to Canterlot, apparently in only a few hours.

Logically, she knows he’s more than capable, but logic only goes so far to quell a dam’s fear for their foal’s safety. “As long as you’re sure it’s safe,” she cautions, gingerly nibbling on her sugary snack.

“One hundred percent guaranteed, Miss Pick. We’ll only be flying a few hundred meters off the ground. I have Slow Fall crystals on me, one of which I’ll strap to your daughter. I also have a Teleport crystal that will arrest momentum, so if, maker forbid, something somehow forced me out of the sky, I could just teleport us both to a couple hooves off the ground.”

He waves his hooves to stave off further discussion on the subject for the moment and insists, “Let’s enjoy our second breakfast, then I’ll show you how easy it’ll be for me to carry ya.”

The three fall into an easy silence as their sugary treats are devoured. It’s a relatively inconsequential aspect of his talent, but Cure is still grateful that he can eat whatever and whenever he wants without concern. To most foals a four or five thousand calorie day would be absurd; between his physical and magical activity that’s the bare minimum needed to keep his body fueled. Supplementing his intake or offloading excess is a simple matter that he addresses every time he hooks into his plants.

A thought occurs to him as the three are finishing up. He gives Ferric a gentle bump and asks, “Hey, just out of curiosity, have you had much opportunity to do any weaponsmithing?”

She gives a halfhearted nod. “Some speartips and knives, but nothing very complex.”

“What about unicorn darts?”

She shrugs and bobs her head responding, “Sure. Those are easy. I would just need to get some gold or silver.”

“What? Why?”

“Those darts have a thin gold or silver core running the length of them and some grip points on the back.” She gives his shoulder a nuzzle as she continues, “The books you gave me say it’s to help magic grab onto the dart since steel isn’t very magic-conductive. Having the path inside of the dart makes them easier to control. I don’t know how to bind them, though.”

“Bind them?”

“Mmhmm,” she nods. “You don’t want another unicorn to be able to manipulate them, so you have to bind them so only your own magic can flow through them freely.”

“Huh. Good to know. Say,” he murmurs, casting his gaze across the table, “do you and Mrs. Gem usually sell raw silver?”

Diamond blinks at suddenly being addressed and tilts her head in thought. “Not often. Sometimes a unicorn will want some for something, but we don’t get many around here.”

“I do a few enchanting projects here and there. Is it as expensive as gold?”

“Oh, no! Not at all,” she insists, waving the very prospect away with her hoof. “It’s barely more than a bit per gram right now. One point two, I think.”

“So about twelve hundred per kilo?”

“Just about,” she confirms with a nod.

An idea begins to form in the young alicorn’s mind; an idea that proved exceptionally effective against a lycanthropes in a movie Ed enjoyed. Mmm… Kate Beckinsale in tight leather. Yesss.

“Hmm… I may hafta stop by and pick me up some, then.” He tosses the last bite of his doughnut in his maw and washes it down with the rest of his orange juice, noting that the other two are also finished with their own. His staff flashes a few times, cleaning the glasses as well as any crumbs left behind before he gives it a twirl and slides it into his mane pocket.

A moment later the three are in the living room with Cure laid on his barrel. “Hop on up. Scoot up so yer booty is right between my wings so you can wrap your forelegs around my neck if you prefer. You won’t fall off me either way, even if I were to go upside down,” he immediately waves his forelegs in placation, assuring her, “which I will not be doing. I promise!”

Though the filly’s bashfulness is nearly palpable, she complies with his request. Once she’s in place he spreads his wings flat, thins the air on top while squeezing the air below. Without even flapping his wings he begins hovering just off the ground. “See? No problem. Now, just to warn you. When I cast Invisibility, closing your eyes won’t help.”

“What?! Why?”

“Observe,” he warns, activating his crystal.

He feels her forelegs wrap tighter around his neck and hears the sharp intake of breath. “Relax, Red. We’re not moving at all. If you’re really not okay with this we could take the train, but sooner or later this is something you’ll have to be able to do.”

“Why?!” she asks again.

He dismisses the spell and sets back down, craning his neck to look at her with his right eye. “Think about all the times I’m going to be traveling in a pegasus-pulled carriage. You, Heavy, the girls, my folks, hay… even you, Miss Pick. There is no way you’re going to be able to avoid the sky forever, and ya can’t be working yourself up when that inevitably finally comes. Besides,” he juts his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, “do you honestly believe I’d ever let you fall?”

The filly scowls at the blatant manipulation. She looks away and huffs in annoyance. “No,” she finally admits in a growl.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, honey,” her dam reassures her. She gives Cure a pleading look and meekly requests, “Please be careful. No stunts or showing off, okay?”

“Not a problem,” he instantly agrees. “The last thing I want to do is make it so she never wants to go again. Just you wait, Miss Pick. I bet once you get a taste of the open sky you’ll wonder what the heck you were ever afraid of.” He cranes his neck to the side again and softly asks, “So… you up for giving this a try?”

Between the stop at the bakery, the trip to her house, the time spent having breakfast, and even more time spent convincing her to trust him, Cure is almost sure it would have been much faster to simply meet her at the station, take the train, and walk to his great grandsire’s business. He knew that would probably be the case from the start. Still, everypony in his circle is going to have to get used to flying; her, especially, due to her desire to join the guard.

Besides, flying is fucking awesome, and there’s not a safer way to experience it than from the back of an alicorn that can heal basically anything.

With the promise that Ferric would Send her dam a message upon their arrival, the two had departed under Invisibility from her backyard. Very much aware of the filly’s acrophobia, he’d kept their altitude and speed to the bare minimum. Liftoff was as gentle as he could make it also, with the pair no more than floating up into the air. His sisters had never complained, but the actuation of his flight muscles when he flapped initially startled the girl, resulting in a moment where he’s pretty sure a real pegasus would have been strangled.

The pair glided more than they “flew” over the distance between Golden Hills and Baltimare, only climbing high enough to leave a comfortable buffer between themselves and the buildings and treetops that slowly passed underneath.

Ferric calmed almost completely by the time they arrived. Cure is confident she’ll not be dreaming of soaring the open skies anytime soon, but he could tell from the minute shifting of her weight that she enjoyed looking around.

Still under the cloak of Invisibility, he lands in front of his great grandsire’s home. The gatepony gives a start but quickly calms when Prince Serpentus suddenly appears. That the young, definitely not Brick’s great grandfoal, colt brought along a filly is certainly new, though.

Taking inspiration from Luna, Cure shifted Ferric’s coat to a lovely navy, but kept her black mane and tail. The colors looked fantastic on the filly, and gave him a wild idea he may have to propose to the girls for Nightmare Night.

The pair are quickly waved through, meeting Measured Corner at the door. Cure is surprised to pick up hints of anxiety in the stallion’s scent as he approaches. A look of resignation crosses his face as he steps out of the way of the open door and lowers his head in a shallow bow. Ferric picks up on it as well, shooting Cure a questioning look out of the corner of her eyes.

He returns it with a subtle shrug and instead focuses on the stallion. “Good mornin, dude.”

“Good morning, highness, young miss,” he flatly responds. “Your gr… err… Mr. Brick is in the kitchen. Right this way.” He pushes the door shut and trots off at a quick pace, the pair following along more sedately. They only catch up to him in time to be present for the tail end of his announcement, after which the stallion about-faces and quickly departs.

Ferric watches him wander off and leans close to whisper, “Is that normal?”

“No. Not at all.” His ears pin and he fails to hide a grimace as he admits, “I may have gone too far with the teasing last time.”

The look of disappointment the sweet girl gives him stabs straight into his heart. “What’d you do?” she asks, far more sternly than he’s accustomed to from the timid filly.

“Nothing bad! I just, ya know, gave him a hard time about not playing a trumpet to announce me.”

She cocks a brow and glances back in the direction he left. “That doesn’t seem too bad.”

“... So I tried to make him blow a kazoo. And, maybe, put a silly hat on him. You know, just gave him a little ribbing. Nothing big.”

The disappointment intensifies a hundredfold. “Cure… no.” The rebuke, mild as it is, has him instinctively tuck his tail and lower his head. He briefly wonders if a rolled up newspaper is about to descend on his brow as she continues, “You always tell us not to let you act like that. Why would you do that to somepony?”

“It was just some harmless teasing! It wasn’t that bad!” he defensively insists. “We’re talking about maybe a thirty second interaction here!”

The disbelief is plain on her face as she looks in the departed servant’s direction again.

“I’ll be better,” he concedes with a sigh. “Come on.”

“Speed and control,” Brick declares, “are crucial when you’re using a heavy weapon. Either you control the weapon,” he demonstrates a few quick jabs with the top of the hammer, then a wide swing, “or the weapon controls you. Of course, unlike minotaurs and other bipeds, ponies don’t fare the best in a chest-to-chest melee, do we?”

Cure shakes his head no. “I reckon we don’t, grandpa.” He and Ferric are standing to the side paying rapt attention to the lecture. His grandparents had planned ahead and had a foal-sized replica ready for the colt. They hadn’t known to make two, so Cure let Ferric use it and, instead, extruded a wood and ceramic version for himself to use.

“Exactly,” he agrees with a firm nod. “Charges, lunges, and sweeps are our bread and butter. If your forehooves both leave the ground at the same time then you’re either delivering the finishing blow,” he pauses melodramatically, “or you can bet you’re flank you’ll be receiving one!”

The stallion rears up, cocking the hammer up over his right shoulder, and brings it down in a powerful strike, shaking the ground under the foals’ hooves from several meters away. The blow would likely end the life of anycreature unfortunate enough to be under it, likely even a large dragon. Especially if he’d flipped it around and used the cone-shaped back end instead.

Earth pony hammers are, unsurprisingly, weighted and shaped with the tribe in mind. Coming in at slightly under ten kilograms and every bit as long as a foreleg, the rather plain looking weapon would wear all but the most athletic humans out after only a minute or two of swinging. A strong earth pony like the colt’s sire could whirl the steel brick on a stick around for the better part of an hour, rest for ten minutes, and be right back in the fight.

Brick pulls the head of the mallet out of the ground where it had buried itself nearly to the grip. The look of glee the stallion wears is a little scary, but Cure just chalks it up to him enjoying his restored vitality; something only somepony that has experienced the rigors of aging can well and truly appreciate.

A sharp call from the covered porch pierces the air as Vino stands and shouts out, “DON’T YOU GO MESSING UP THE YARD!” in a ferocious warning.

Brick huffs and rolls his eyes, shouting back, “THE DAMN YARD IS FINE!”

“DON’T YOU TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME, VITA CLARION!”

The stallion’s ears flip back as he grumbles under his breath, scrunching his snout in annoyance. He lets out a huff and shoots the mare a quick glare, but still starts nudging the dirt with a forehoof to fill in the enormous divot.

“I got it grandpa,” Cure assures him, igniting his horn to fix the ground and heal up the patch of grass. A grunt of acknowledgement and a brisk nod are his only thanks. “So I gotta ask,” the alicorn begins, “how is a hammer better than something we can charge with? I saw armors with lances affixed to them. Wouldn’t that be way better for us?”

The stallion sighs, but acknowledges the point with a nod. “For most situations, yes. For ponies with a special talent like your grandma and young Ferric here, they’ll do far better than anypony else with their weapon of choice. That being said, spears and polearms are just all-around better in most situations. It’s a little different for unicorns, or for pegasi with their wing blades, but even those have some significant drawbacks, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Cure nods in agreement, saying, “They do hinder mobility a little bit, especially if you’re trying to strike with them. Also, they’re really only useful for slicing with the extra reach they give. Shallow cuts aimed at wings or soft spots. That’s why we practice with boots as much as blades at training.”

“Exactly. And shallow cuts aren’t going to do much to an armored foe unless you hit a gap,” the stallion adds. “Of course, armored enemies is where a maul truly shines. A lance or halberd may skip off their armor, but the blunt head of a hammer,” he trails off, holding his hoof out to prompt the foals.

“Will still ring their bell even through the armor,” Cure finishes.

“Exactly. So,” he continues on, getting his train of thought back on the tracks, “what we’ll work on today is learning how to move at speed on three hooves, then I’ll show you both how to plan a charge so that you can pivot, but still deliver all the power into your swing. Those lessons will be useful for not only hammers, but also spears, lances, and any kind of poleaxe.

“I have to admit, I’m not sure how to apply this to flight,” he comments, staring intently at the young alicorn’s wings. “I suppose the underlying principles will be the same, but you may have more mobility if you can keep from getting clipped.”

“I can also make the hammer weigh more.”

“What? Is this an alicorn thing?”

“Pegasus aura, so kinda,” Cure answers with a shrug. “They can make things heavier instead of lighter if they try and can get the visual right.” He trots up closer and sets his hoof on Brick’s hammer, focusing on the planet’s pull yanking him down. The head dips for a split second until his great grandsire compensates.

“Interesting. If you can keep it lightened most of the time, then increase its weight on the downswing…” he trails off, frowning deeply in thought. “That just doesn’t seem fair somehow.”

“Why? ‘Cause we gotta work to get strong enough to do the same thing they can?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s not exactly the most simple thing to pull off, grandpa. The effect once you flip the mental switch isn’t instant, either. Time it wrong and, instead of landing a devastating blow, the hammer will almost bounce off your target. Of course, that doesn’t even factor in that if you were a pegasus you probably would’a died years before I got my talent. I’d say that more than makes up for it.”

“I… can’t argue that, I suppose.”

“So, you basically want us to… run? Is that right?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well… we can kinda do that whenever, grandpa. How ‘bout showing us how to block strikes or something?”

The stallion winces and shakes his head no. “Too dangerous. I’m not going to risk one of you getting hurt.” Cure fixes him with a flat look. Brick thrusts a hoof in Ferric’s direction and says, “You might be able to heal her, but I’m not explaining to anypony why their filly was hurt in the first place, and I damn sure am not going to explain to the princess how the only other alicorn in the world ended up with brain damage.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ferric quietly insists.

“What if I make lightweight hammers with a foam cover?”

Brick only ponders the suggestion for a moment before nodding. “Show me what you can make. If it’s safe enough then we can give it a try.”

Cure skips through the clouds, finding the princess already waiting for him. He thought he felt a ripple pass through him in the physical world just a moment prior; the echo of a wave from the boulder of power dropped into the otherwise still environment. That his alicorn abilities are manifesting so much faster than even the princess anticipated, while worrying, is also somewhat of a relief. While he suspects many would be afraid of possessing as much power as he may one day wield, he can only find the prospect exciting instead. The method by which his powers seem to be growing may have some concerning implications, but he doesn’t see the sense in getting worried over something that seems to work in his favor.

“Howdy, boss!” he chirps, trotting up to the princess and brushing against her right side.

“Good evening, Cure,” she returns, accepting the nuzzle on his approach. He turns around and collapses against her foreleg, only lying there a split second before she wraps it around him and hoists him up, squeezing him against her chest. The princess noses into his mane, takes a deep breath, and lets out a long sigh. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you are unharmed.”

The colt scoffs and rolls his eyes but, just like with his dam, wisely makes no attempt to escape. “I swear, y’all worry too friggin much.”

This time it’s the princess’s then to roll her eyes as she sets him down, draping his chest over her left foreleg thigh. “I’m sure you would be completely unconcerned if an undead monster threatened somepony you cared about.”

“Oh I don’t know if ‘worried’ is the right word. Murderous would probably be more accurate, but I’ll concede your point either way. Bottom line? The threat is gone and I’ll be more prepared if something like it ever creeps up again.”

She bumps his rump lightly with the inside of her right thigh. “You are far, far too important to take casual risks, young colt, and not just to those who know you. Our ponies, our nation, and even the world as a whole benefits from your gifts. I will not see you risking your safety unnecessarily. You will not be fighting with monsters until I deem you well prepared, and even then only when there is no other option. Is that understood?”

Cure inclines his head to meet her eyes, ready to directly confront her argument. The concern evident in her look halts the words in his throat before he can even open his mouth. He blows out a sigh and sags, leaning heavily against her. “Fiiine! I swear, somepony so big shouldn’t be allowed to use the sad puppy dog eyes.”

A harsher bump jolts the colt’s backside. “What, exactly, do you mean by ‘big,’ young colt?!”

“Oh, Tia,” he replies, deepening his voice as he sits up to wrap his forelegs around her neck in a hug. “I don’t care what everypony says. Have as much cake as you want. That only means there’s slightly more beauty in the world.”

An indignant huff blasts out the princess’s snout and she turns away. “Such a charmer.”

“I learned everything my sire had to teach me,” he solemnly agrees, sliding back down to rest between her forelegs. “Anyhow, I’ll hold off on going on some kinda vampony hunt ‘till you’re okay with it. I can wait a couple weeks or so, no problem.”

“A couple weeks?!” she exclaims.

“Yeah. When I come over there for the squads competition I’ll give ya a right proper whooping. Then you’ll be forced to acknowledge that I am not only the more adorable alicorn, but also far more dangerous combatant. I have no doubt that all further concerns about my wellbeing will be put to rest.”

The mare’s incredulity shows itself with a strangled snerk, slowly morphing into a giggle that devolves into full-blown laughter. The colt stoically sits through the indignity heaped upon him by the elder alicorn, needlessly analyzing his left forehoof wall for cracks or chips as he ignores her teasing.

“Very well,” he concedes, interrupting her jubilation. “I’ll admit that, to a certain demographic, you may be considered the more aesthetically charming between us, but that’s a class of creatures I’m not terribly interested in pandering to anyhow.”

“Yes, yes. That is definitely what I found amusing about your proposal, Cure,” she agrees, mockingly bobbing her head in an exaggerated nod.

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. So, you and your advisors already have the agenda for my part of this all planned out? I know we’d talked about me coming the week before the competition, but then I think we decided I’d just travel with the Baltimare guards, so… which is it?”

“Both. A certain unit of guards in the Baltimare region mysteriously performed far, far better during their preliminary review than they have in years past.”

He inclines his head in thought, idly tapping at his chin. “Huh. That’s odd. I wonder how that could have happened.”

“It boggles the mind, truly. Regardless, as a result, they have won the honor of escorting their prince and, coincidentally, will be allowed to enjoy a few extra days off in the capital before the competition begins. Assuming that is acceptable, you will depart next Saturday evening, arrive Sunday morning, and begin screening officers and their families Monday morning.”

“Alright. I’ll just have anypony scheduled to see me at the hospital diverted to Canterlot instead. I don’t think that’ll upset anypony.”

“That has already happened, Cure. I’ve been planning this for months. I suppose I should have thought to bring it up at our meeting last week.”

“Eh, no big deal,” he assures her, brushing the issue aside with a hoof. “I know you’re busy and all. It’s easy to forget the occasional detail here and there when you’ve got a million things on your plate.”

“That is true,” she wistfully laments.

“So, circling back a bit, I’ve got a few questions about the vampires, if you don’t mind.”

“I will answer what I can.”

“Cool. So, first off, was there a corpse left or did they burn it?”

“The latter. That is standard practice so that their rot can be cleansed.”

“Why? Does it spread somehow?”

The mare hesitates momentarily before shrugging, “Honestly? I have not seen evidence that it does once they are vanquished. We have always dispatched such threats with such great fervor so as to not risk it.”

“That’s kinda disappointing, boss. I mean, I get why you maybe had to back in ye olde day, but that seems a little unnecessary anymore. Next time we find one of those things I want to scan it before we dispose of it. While it’s still alive, or animated, I suppose, would be best. That brings me to my next question… What exactly do you mean when you say they’re ‘undead?’”

The mare fails to keep the harsh edge out of her voice as she explains, “They are not alive. They do not have blood. Their hearts do not beat.” Cure feels the increasing warmth of the air as she continues on her rant. “They have no warmth or breath. They do nothing but devour life to empower themselves or to spread their vileness. They are anathema to all that lives, to the point where they cannot even bear to stand under the source of all life. They are no more alive than an infection, and must be purged from existence.”

“Huh. So, no blood?” Thankfully, his interruption turns the thermostat back down to comfortable levels.

“No. At least, not as we would recognize it. They ‘bleed’ a disgusting, black bile when pierced. The stench alone,” she shudders in disgust. “I much preferred to dispatch them with light and fire, or with mine sister’s cleansing waters when possible.”

“That does sound cleaner,” he acknowledges. “What’s silver do to them?”

“It cuts with ease where other metals struggle. Where bronze, iron, and steel will cut with force, silver slices with the barest of efforts.” Her snout scrunches in disgust as she adds, “It does little for the smell, unfortunately.”

“Just another reason to get those schnoz enhancements, boss. You can block out stinks that way.”

“There are certainly some advantages, it seems.”

“Darn right there are. So, I don’t suppose you have like… a reservoir of Luna’s water somewhere tucked away, do you?”

“No,” she sighs, her head dipping slightly. “All stores were lost during our initial confrontation. The devastation that was unleashed… Little could be salvaged.”

Cure leans to his left, nuzzling against her chest. “Sorry, Celestia. Didn’t mean to poke at an old wound. I kinda wonder if I can do something similar anyhow.”

“You believe so?”

“Ehh… maybe not yet, but you can’t have life without water. Or blood. I may have to use blood instead.”

The suggestion gives the mare pause. He feels her lean back to look directly down on him. “Cure… I do not believe flooding a suspected sanctuary of those beasts with blood would have the effect you desire, not to mention the logistic challenges of transporting, or even obtaining, sufficient quantities.”

“It may not work,” he hedges with a shrug. “But it may. It depends on how their feeding works. That’s why it’s important to capture one to study. Know thy enemy and all that. If those things are truly undead then, presumably, even my spit could melt them like Luna’s water. Next time we find one, assuming there are more out there, I would very much like it captured alive as long as it doesn’t endanger anypony. I have a couple ideas on ways to kill out that shouldn’t need direct intervention at all, but capturing? That’s a bit more difficult.”

“What methods have you devised?”

“Modified bugs filled with silver particles in water. Picture an enlarged, modified mosquito that can’t eat or reproduce and, instead of sucking blood, injects the silver instead.”

“That… is an interesting suggestion,” she hesitantly supplies. Despite her words, Cure can easily detect the tensing of her muscles at the idea.

“Yeah. Or something like those fire bugs I showed you at the range, or a version that emits ultraviolet light, assuming that’s the part of the sun’s light that harms them. I’d prefer the silver ones since silver is harmless to normal ponies. My experiments thus far have indicated fire and concentrated UV light can be harmful, so that’s a definite advantage to the first idea.”

He can feel the heat of her stare on his back, but she, unfortunately, doesn’t go for the bait. Celestia knows she made the right choice when he looks up and gives her a pout.

Sighing again, she averts her gaze and concedes, “Unsettling as the idea of swarms of modified mosquitoes may be, the idea sounds like it could be effective. If struck during their daylight slumber by a sufficiently large swarm I do not believe they would survive. At the very least they would be severely injured. My only concern would be the bugs themselves, I suppose, but if they cannot spread and would soon die off…”

He nods in acknowledgement and continues her sentence. “Then they’ll either find their targets or end up as food for something else. I figured they can be a second wave anyhow. I’m not keen on the idea of wasting a bunch of silver, and even if it is harmless I don’t want bugs swarming anypony by mistake. The first line of bugs can be scouts that scent the things out and mark valid targets. That’ll give us an opportunity to verify them before progressing.”

The princess quietly takes the suggestion in, considering the prospect of unleashing such an attack. “While nothing immediately jumps out as problematic, I believe some caution would be warranted. Would you object to submitting batches of the bugs you are proposing for testing? I do not wish to sound as if I doubt your ability, Cure -”

“No, really, I get it. It’s fine,” he assures her, reaching up to nose at her throat. “I’d be a little leery of somepony saying, ‘Hey, I’ve got the solution right here! Hundreds of thousands of bugs!’ Frankly, if you’d said, ‘Sure, dude, go to town,’ I’d probably be a smidge concerned. For more than one reason.”

“That would be somewhat unusual, I suppose.”

“I’ll just bring the samples with me when I come. Boxes and boxes of them… right to the castle. You and me will take a day or two to go through them. We’ll talk about likes and dislikes, build a couple bugs just for fun, then I’ll have a few thousand land on you just to show you they won’t bother a pony, and then we’ll go from there. Sound good?”

A shudder passes through the mare as she violently shakes her head. “No. Aside from the first sentence, none of that sounds good at all. I am not joking, Cure. If I find you sneaking boxes full of bugs into the castle then we will have words.”

He cranes his neck to look up at the princess with wide-eyed astonishment and exclaims, “Holy fudge, boss! First you dote on me over the big bad puppy-leech, then you forbid me from fightin ‘em, now yer sayin no bugs in the house!” He pokes her chest with the tip of his wing, asking, “Are you and my dam trading notes or somethin?! You sound just like her!”

To the colt’s dismay, rather than a witty retort, the princess lights up at the idea, once again pinning him against her chest in a tight embrace. “I had not considered that before! That is a wonderful idea, Cure! I will start corresponding with your dam weekly as well, that way I can ensure that we are both on the same page in regards to your troublesome behavior.”

“Great,” he deadpans. “I’m so glad I suggested it.” He tilts his head in consideration and gives a helpless shrug. “Seriously, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled. I can’t say I’m super pumped about the idea of y’all conspirin behind my rear, but whatever. Both of ya could use more friends.”

“Indeed. I firmly believe one can never have too many.”

He rolls to his right, flopping on his side to look up at her. “Speaking of frieeeends,” he teases, giving her an expectant look, “did Sunny Skies find her wayward Comet?”

Though her mask is nearly infallible, Cure can easily detect the slight upturn at the corners of her mouth. His smug grin widens, prompting the mare to abandon her attempt at stoicism, instead nearly glowing with excitement. “She did!” she happily declares, nearly vibrating with excitement. “And it was the Sending crystal idea that did the trick.”

She starts the story with a giggle, saying, “He said it was the first time anypony has ever sent him a message via one and it nearly caused him to crash! Apparently he received the message just as he was landing. The sudden, unexpected voice in his head caused him to reel in surprise.”

“OOoooh. Did you put on a cute little outfit and nurse him back to health?” The colt can’t help himself. Just like it did when he was working in the hospital, his mind supplies a picture of the princess in a tight, white and pink outfit with a cross on her chest and a tiny, cute cap on her head. He glances to his side and wonders if pink stockings wrapping her legs would add or detract from the overall look.

“Cure,” she sharply calls, pulling him out of his reverie. A quick check confirms that, at least physically, he didn’t show any signs of reaction, thank the heavens. “While some mares may be flattered at receiving such a look, I find it exceedingly discomforting coming from such a young foal.”

He winces at the admonishment and nods in acceptance. “Sorry, boss. I’d say it won’t happen again, but… well, I promised I’d never lie to ya. I can sympathize!” he rushes to explain. “I definitely get those looks too, but, well, I haven’t had to put up with it for a thousand years, so it’s still sort of a novel experience for me.”

She sighs and softly requests, “Please try to be more mindful. I cannot imagine the rumors that would begin to fly should somepony unaware of your situation observe such an expression on somepony your age.”

He scoffs, pointing out, “I’m a male alicorn, boss. They’d probably throw a freaking parade. I bet a few dozen ponies outright cheered when they saw me go out with the girls just out of relief that I’m straight.”

The mare deflates slightly at the reminder, but begrudgingly nods. “True, I suppose. Still,” she gives him a pitiable look, “try for my sake, at least?”

“Of course. I already said I would try. I ain’t a miracle worker,” he insists. She cocks a brow and gives him a knowing look. “Well, not that kind of miracle, at least. Sure, I can do a bunch of crazy stuff, but that’s a whole lot easier than not ‘mirin on a pretty lady. So stop delaying… you found yer dude, right?”

She nods.

“Great!” he cheers. “Please don’t tell me he has like three wives already and was out hunting for number four.”

“Not as such, no. He is not married, but he does have another mare that he’s been in a relationship with for a few months.”

“Yeah? Is that a deal breaker for you?”

“No,” she immediately replies. “I have very little hope of ever finding a stallion that is not in some kind of relationship already. With there being so few, the odds simply do not allow for such things. Perhaps if he were a unicorn, but the odds of finding an unspoken for unicorn stallion in Canterlot are slim indeed.”

“Not unless the dude has something wrong with him, I suspect,” Cure agrees. “At least for now. If we can get the sexes leveled out in a few decades, but… why wait?”

“Precisely.”

“So… are you going to pursue him? I’m assuming he didn’t tell you to go away. A pretty, single pegasus that works at the palace is, objectively, a pretty good catch.”

She nods in agreement. “Positions at the castle are quite prestigious. The initial meeting with them went well, and I am hopeful that things will continue to do so, but I do not need to tell you; relationships are complicated, even moreso when multiple ponies are involved.”

“Don’t I know it,” he commiserates. “I took Ferric with me to my great grandsire’s earlier. I feel guilty at times; I hang out with Dawn a lot, I go flying with Glacial and Drift at least a few times a week, but I almost never do anything with just Rising or Ferric by themselves. At least RP is there with Dawn, and usually Coast, a lot of the time I’m hanging out with her, but Ferric? With both of us workin I don’t see her as much, and almost never alone.”

“Have you considered making an effort to visit her during your lunch?”

“No,” he confesses, “not really. I usually am either rushing to the store, having just eaten at the hospital, or I’m seeing my last few patients at my business during the lunch hour. I suppose I should make more of an effort, huh?”

“I am sure she would appreciate it very much if you did.”

“Yeah. You’re right. She was quiet today, which is normal for her, but she still seemed to really enjoy herself. I’ll start doing that, at least on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” He motions to her with his snout and asks, “So, when are you planning on meeting up with them again? Friday?”

“Exactly.”

Cure had hoped for a few details, but it’s really not his business. Instead, he accepts the answer for what it is and lets the issue die. “Cool. I’m real proud of ya boss. I hope it all works out.”

She sighs and hangs her head. “I am not terribly optimistic. While Sunny is, as you said, a ‘good catch,’ the fact is that I cannot give him the one thing that many young stallions will hope for above all others.”

Cure nearly shoots to his hooves, pressing his side firmly against her chest and his head and neck against her much longer one. “None of that,” he sternly warns. “Even now there are ways I could come up with for you to, in a way, carry a foal by a typical pony. It wouldn’t be, biologically, your foal, but it is possible. Besides, plenty of ponies are in relationships where one or the other cannot have foals, or they don’t want any. You don’t need to start doing the whole ‘I’m going to look for reasons to be down’ thing. If it works out, great. If not, have some fun, release some of that stress you carry all the time, and move on.

“I have a hard time believing anypony would consider you, the wonderful mare that you are, not good enough to be in a relationship with.” He pokes her in the chest, insisting, “Don’t focus on the one thing you can’t do. If that’s all he cares about then he isn’t worth your time anyhow.”

A moment passes in silence before the mare slowly nods in acceptance. “You are right, of course. This is not new to me, either. In our youths, and even clear into the early years of the united Equestria, it was alleged that Luna and I were cursed beings. It had far more of an impact on her than I. After all, what kind of curse would allow one to raise the sun by themselves?

“Regardless, ponies took note when we failed to produce foals regardless of our mate. That they continued to age while we remained the same... rumors arose numerous times over the years that we were, in fact, some form of vampony as well. Several griffons and zebras, in particular, accused us of devouring the essence of our lovers to prolong our own existence. I do not believe the accusations were truly believed, even by those leveling them, but repeatedly catching wind of them for hundreds of years... it takes a toll.”

“Yeesh. Dunno how y’all never lost your cool on ‘em. I’m pretty sure I don’t have that kind of patience, boss.”

“It grows with age. We did not at first, either. As much as I would like to claim my patience for foolishness was always, or currently is, limitless, both Luna and I occasionally responded poorly to the accusation. While we were able to suppress the urge to use violence, there were several times when it was a near thing.”

“So what you’re saying is that eventually somecreature is going to say something funky enough to me that I’m going to want to hurt them.”

“Almost certainly.”

“And I’m not allowed to switch which side of their body their head and butthole are on?”

A snort escapes the princess who then devolves into giggles. “I am afraid not, Cure.”

“Why not? Can you imagine how hilarious it would be to see a griffon soaring through the air ass first while craning their neck to see where they’re going?” He projects an illusion of exactly that and includes a bizarre whistling noise from the air blasting into the misplaced orifice. He watches as it flies in front of the pair and whispering in faux awe, “Behold the noffirg! Such a majestic creature! Shame it can’t sneak up on prey nearly as well.”

The princess’s eyes widen comically and she bursts into laughter, wrapping her forelegs around the silly colt as she shakes in mirth. “Please, please, do not do that! As humorous as the notion is, I believe Griffonstone would respond quite poorly should one of their citizens arrive in such a state.”

“I’ll tell ya what,” he says, sliding back down upon being released, “since you asked so nicely, I’ll do my best to resist the urge. All I ask in return is that you have what fun ya can in the meantime, okay?”

A genuine smile graces her features as she nods in acceptance. “I will.”

“Great! So… next topic for the ‘ol agenda -”

“There’s an agenda?”

“Just the one in my noggin. So I don’t know if you’re aware, but me ‘n momma Title flew on up to Filly on Tuesday.”

“I was made aware of the ad you placed in the Inquirer,” she confirms.

Cure waits a moment to see if she mentions the police encounter. When she doesn’t, he decides it best to fill her in himself. The truth, he figures, will eventually come out one way or another. At least if he’s the one making her aware then he won’t appear as if he’s trying to deceive her. Besides, nopony in a management position likes to be blindsided with crap one of their employees tried to get away with.

“Good. Yeah, I rented a stall to sell my services at the market on September 19th, then put an ad in the Inquirer about it. Just so you’re aware, we had a bit of a run-in with the local police at the Market’s offices when we went to leave.”

“What kind of ‘run-in,’ exactly?” she warily inquires.

“Really?” he huffs, “The whole thing was kind of stupid. I made a cart to pull my mom in, right?”

“Okay?”

“I wasn’t running a freaking taxi service. We’re talking our own private use here, okay?

“Of course,” she agrees, nodding along.

“The cop was saying we needed a license to act as a cab.”

“Oh. That should have been an easy misunderstanding to clear up, though.”

“It would have been, but then she started questioning why a healthy earth pony mare needed her nine year old foal to pull her around in a cart.”

“Ah. A reasonable question.”

“It was,” he grants. “But then she asked mom where I’d towed her from.”

Celestia facehooves. “She said Baltimare,” she correctly guesses.

Cure nods in confirmation. “She said Baltimare.”

The princess hangs her head. She notices the soft, warm pillow underneath her and opts to accept the invitation for what it’s worth, heavily collapsing on the colt who takes her head and neck’s weight with aplomb. “I know I should be thrilled that my little ponies are so terrible at deception, but just this once could she not have simply named a nearby hotel?”

Cure’s forelegs instinctively wrap around the mare’s neck just behind her jaw as he lets out a sympathetic sigh. “It probably wouldn’t have mattered. Like you said, ponies absolutely suck at lying, even when y’all try. That’s when I had to step in.”

“Please tell me you did not threaten them,” she almost begs.

“No. Not as such. I created, then Teleported a note to them,” he answers, projecting an Illusion of the note, verbatim, just in front of her, “then briefly displayed my new cutie mark and made my eyes go gold like my Serpentus disguise.”

Celestia reads over the note, scrunching her snout in a slight grimace. “The tone of the note strikes me as rather aggressive, Cure.”

“Maybe, but in the context of the grand prince of Equestria addressing a couple municipal patrol officers, I figured there would be at least some expectation that I would be assertive. Perhaps even a bit authoritative. I really only had three options, as best I can tell. I could have allowed the situation to devolve and ended up at the police station where I would have either had to reveal my identity anyhow or get Marquis Merryland involved to clear everything up, which would have raised its own questions.”

She nods in acceptance as he continues, “I could have done that,” he inclines his head to the projected note before dispelling it, “or, and I didn’t seriously consider this as a valid option, I could have knocked them out. Or stunned them, I guess.”

“I am relieved you did not choose the latter of those three.”

“I figured you would be,” he agrees with a chuckle. “It would be a disaster once my identity is released. ‘Prince Pounces on Police - Patrol Ponies Paralyzed, Panicking Passing Pedestrians!’”

The princess full-on guffaws at the headline, nodding in approval. “They do so enjoy their alliteration! Oh, Cure…” she sighs, still giggling. “For the record, I would ask that you avoid attacking our little ponies unless absolutely necessary. While I am inclined to say the situation could have best been dealt with at the precinct office, the end result would likely have been the same, though with more witnesses to your identity.”

“My thoughts exactly. I also Sent a message to Merryland asking him to send somepony to talk to the cops so they would know it really was legit. I have no way of knowing if he did or not, but I could feel the Sending fire off, so I’m confident he got the message.”

“Very well. I believe it may be prudent if I inquire with the marquis whether that happened or not. At the very least it will assure him that it was a simple misunderstanding, and not an attempt on your part to abuse your authority.”

“Sounds good to me. I was honestly wondering if you already knew. Given my interactions with him before the whole smoke letter thing, I suspected he may not take kindly to me silencing the cops like that.”

She tilts her head to the side, humming in thought. The act sends a tingly vibration through her throat and against his chest. “I do not believe he would do that. If he were truly concerned about such a thing then he would likely bring it to the attention of Duke Suncrest. I would only expect to hear from him directly if your actions were so egregious as to warrant an immediate response.”

“Ah… chain of command stuff, basically?”

“Precisely. Despite your past assumptions, I do not, I could not, possibly manage every little thing that happens in the nation. With something so trivial?” she shrugs and shakes her head. “I would not expect him to even bother informing the duke. After all, no crime was actually committed, correct?”

“Not unless me forging a license plate number when I was leaving counts.”

“Oh yes,” she teasingly nods, “such a wanton abuse of authority. Surely you are the greatest threat to the safety and prosperity of Fillydelphia’s citizens that has ever existed.”

“Yep. That’s how every criminal mastermind starts. First they’re making fake license plates, next thing you know they’re burning down orphanages and whatnot. It’s a real slippery slope, that one.”

“Indeed.”

“One thing did come up during that trip that I wanted to follow up with you on.”

“Hmm?”

“I made a comment to my mom about a cheesecake restaurant I remember going to before.” She easily catches the emphasis and nods in understanding. “I commented that perhaps said restaurant exists on the other side of the mirror. It dawned on me that I haven’t asked you about that whole thing in a while.”

She sighs again and rolls to her left, carrying the colt with her as she rolls to her back. Cure ends up scooted down, half on her chest and still embracing her neck, though closer to the center. He can’t help but notice how, even halfway folded, her long hind legs still seem to tower into the air far behind him. Her head is barely closer; with her long neck stretched before him and her head resting flat on the cloudy surface, regardless of her horn, it feels like he’s a foal lying in the center of a king-sized mattress. It strikes him that, in many ways, the analogy is more apt than he initially considered. As she had, he takes the opportunity to sprawl out, stretching his hind legs and wings as much as he can while wrapped in her embrace.

The brief pause is interrupted when she begins, “I have had little opportunity to examine the mirror, unfortunately, but I have made some progress in understanding the mechanics of how it accomplishes its various functions. More significantly, I was able to trace the path that the portal takes through the dimensional membrane.”

“Yeah? How?”

Her wings shrug against the ethereal surface as she explains, “The method was relatively simple. I only needed to send a tracker similar to the one in your regalia.” Cure jerks his head up in alarm, an action that she fully anticipated. “Worry not. I took heed of your warning in regards to the sirens. If they were able to detect the magic at all then it would do them little good. The tracker annihilated itself upon completion of its task. Any magic, minute as it would have been, would have dissipated with its dust within seconds.”

He slowly releases the breath he’d taken in as he relaxes back down into her fluff. “Good thinkin, boss. Hopefully that’s good enough to throw them off, but I’m still concerned they would just set up camp on the other side and wait. I mean… they only have to hang out there for a day or two every three months, right?”

“Perhaps, but perhaps not. Though I would need to determine a method of doing so, there is no reason I can fathom that the mirror cannot be directly fed power. While the energy consumption is significant, there is no need for it to happen all at once. Truthfully, the method the mirror seems to use is incredibly wasteful.

“While it does take slightly over three months to gain sufficient reserves, nearly all of that magic is radiated back out into the environment upon the discontinuation of the portal. It appears to create a reservoir, if you will, so that a small, but significant number of beings can safely traverse the divide. If few or, as frequently occurs, no creatures pass through then the gathered magic simply goes to waste with only the barest fraction being recovered.”

“So… it charges up, activates, and, if nopony uses it, blasts the gathered magic out as exhaust?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“So how much juice does it take? We talkin sun-raising levels here or what?”

“A fair amount more than the energy required to perform the celestial rituals. A small team of powerful unicorns could sufficiently charge it if that were the only hurdle.”

“Or an alicorn could do it by themselves?” he leadingly asks.

“Yes. Not all at once, hence the other hurdle. The charging array is insufficiently robust to absorb that level of input without risk. It is possible that I may be able to further reinforce it, but as it stands, it would be unsafe to force too much magic into it. Instead of opening once every three months, I estimate it could be sufficiently empowered every four weeks with no additional risk.” She twists her neck to the left and inclines her head slightly and looks over the colt, finding no significant reaction to the news. “I hope I do not have reason to be concerned regarding your inquiries.”

“If you’re askin if I’ve changed my mind about going through then no. Especially not if I would be turned into a human. If I wanted to do that I could have already done so pretty easily. I’m just thinking about trade opportunities and whatnot. Also, I can’t deny that I’m a little curious about whether there’s a Cure Wave over there and, if so, how similar our situations are.”

“That,” she slowly begins, “is not something I had considered.”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know how it works, exactly, but I’m not sure which would be more bizarre: finding out my doppelganger doesn’t exist, finding him but he’s a typical kid, or finding him and learning he isn’t.”

“I can sympathize. Truly, the whole scenario as you described it is exceedingly strange. I do not know how to feel about there possibly being another version of myself there. Let alone a different Luna. One that is still present.” Cure feels the princess’s embrace slacken at the mention of her sister.

He tightens his wing hug around the princess’s barrel, offering what comfort he can. Celestia gives him a small squeeze and ends their brief moment of silence. “I believe the next step will be to attempt to scry what lies on the other side. I know what you expect to find, but I could never forgive myself if I inadvertently sent somepony to their demise.”

He tilts his head and lets out a thoughtful noise. “I guess I hadn’t considered that the portal could open somewhere dangerous.”

“It is possible. The tracker was able to manifest and was not instantly destroyed, so we can assume it is not buried underground or what have you. That does not necessarily mean the environment near the exit is otherwise habitable.”

“Good call, boss. You know, I could make a critter that goes through the portal, takes samples of the air and whatnot, then comes right back. I’m worried what the mirror would turn it into, though.” A thought occurs to the colt as he asks, “Can you disable the spell altering somepony’s body?”

“Perhaps not disable, but shielding somepony from external influences should be a simple matter.”

“And it won’t cause the portal any issues?”

“It should not, no. The portal acts as a conduit to the other world. The spell is applied to a traveler as soon as one enters from either direction, so it has no impact on the tunnel itself, just as it had no impact on the crystal I used for my beacon.”

“So… it wouldn’t have an impact on crystals at all? What about compressed storage bags?”

“Again, there should not be any interference. While its origins are magical, the tunnel itself acts as a physical bridge. I would expect that storage bags should be unaffected by the journey.”

“Something to test, then,” he muses. “So step one is to check what’s on the other side and ensure it’s safe to travel, then maybe send a small recon group?” She nods in agreement. “Then what?”

“It will depend upon what we find. If we find civilization, then we will likely attempt diplomacy. Perhaps not immediately, but the ultimate goal should be one of cooperation. I assume you believe that to be possible, correct?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. If what I’ve talked about is right we could have a lot to offer. Of course, that could swing either way depending on what we find.”

“Naturally,” she agrees. “I will take steps to create a source from which the mirror can more quickly accrue energy. Otherwise, it should be ready to open naturally around November 4th.”

The colt’s snout scrunches in annoyance at the date. “I’ll be busy then,” he sullenly grouses. The princess raises her head to look down at him, cocking a single brow in question. “My parents’ ten year anniversary is the first. I’ll be busy that whole week. Stallion of the house, ya know. Won’t have time to go gallivanting away for a few days, so I’ll just have to wait until I hear from you the following Sunday.”

“Very well,” she accepts, resting her head back on the cloud surface. A moment of silence passes between the pair. Cure feels the princess’s chest rise as she takes a deep breath, slowly blowing it out through her nose. He takes the opportunity to turn his head and gently run his cheek through the mare’s soft coat, basking in her warmth and sweet, fruity scent. A yawn escapes him before he has the chance to suppress it. “I doubt you have been made aware,” she begins, pulling him from his stupor, “but Lady Bush accepted a plea bargain. I was informed that your testimony, while perhaps not the deciding factor, played no small part in her attorney’s insistence that she accept.”

“Oh yeah? It’s not a slap on the fetlock, I hope?”

“No. The prosecution was quite certain of her guilt for the incident you witnessed, but with little evidence of past batteries against her husband, she elected to not prosecute those offenses in exchange for one guilty plea. She will serve a couple months in a corrective facility, and she will still answer to me.”

“Good. What about Mr. Flourish?”

“I understand he is doing well, as are the foals. At least, as well as they could under the circumstances. You performed marvelously on the stand, Cure,” she praises, giving him a small squeeze. “Though I heard more than one pony wonder aloud why you required such a heavy escort.”

“I was advised that having three ponies by my side is protocol, and if they were busy giving testimony, then they weren’t by my side.”

She turns her neck to the side to give him a dubious look out of the corner of her right eye.

“... and I thought maybe it would be a good reminder that ponies can’t bully me like I’m some dumb foal. Don’t act all innocent - I ascribe at least thirty percent of the blame to you.”

Her head tilts more to show her incredulity.

“You’re the one who said they should be thanking me for coming at all!” he insists.

The princess’s look does not change as she continues staring.

He snorts and turns away. “Quiet, you,” he mildly grumbles.

“Cuuuuuure?” she lightly calls, drawing out his name in a sing-song.

He turns further away, facing to his right almost completely away from her big, dumb look.

In a patronizing tone, she asks, “Did somepony challenge your authority?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, whipping his head back to face her. “They sent me a ‘You are hereby commanded to appear’ letter like I’m some commoner, then scheduled my testimony for right towards the beginning of my shift at the hospital!”

“How dare they!” she exclaims.

“I know, right?!”

“The nerve! It absolutely galls, does it not?!”

“Damn right it does!” he agrees, throwing both forehooves into the air. “They’re lucky I’m a benevolent… umm.. Diarch? I guess? That’s not right, is it?”

The princess giggles and shakes her head no. “Not exactly. I believe monarchy is still correct.” A note of hope slips into her voice and her grin widens as she asks, “Unless you are offering, that is?”

“Fudge that!” he shouts with a scoff. He frowns and furrows his brow at her, thrusting a hoof in her direction, “And don’t give me that pout! Check again in fifty years or so and maybe,” her face lights up and tail swishes happily, “MAYBE!” he emphasizes as her pout resumes, “we’ll talk.

“Either way, I had over two dozen ponies… well, creatures, waiting for me at the hospital. I’m all for showin the courts their due respect and whatnot, but if somepony thought they could get their rocks off telling the new prince where and when to be somewhere, damn anypony else it inconveniences, then they can kiss my toned, fuzzy ass.”

“Good,” she agrees with an approving nod. “Never let them push you around, Cure. You cannot show weakness. Unfortunately, ponies and other creatures will rarely pass on an opportunity to test your resolve. I almost look forward to the day that the griffons or dragons seek to test you,” she comments with a mischievous chuckle. Her laughter stops abruptly and she cranes her neck up to look at him, “So long as you can refrain from abusing your talent, I suppose.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Her eyes widen and she snorts in laughter, “Oh goodness - the yaks! By my sun, they are absolutely maddening to put up with. Oh, and speaking of foreign relations, we received word that the new ambassador from Minos has been selected and is on his way.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Gaelan Wildwood. Unlike many high-placed individuals in the nation, he is well known to us. He is a reformist with a reputation of advocating for the spread of education amongst the minotaur tribes. I would expect that you and he should get along fairly well, as he is generally accepted to be pleasant and professional, if somewhat boring, according to our reports.”

Cure nods and gives a noncommittal shrug. “It sounds like it. Of course, I’m assuming the other dude didn’t have a reputation for suggesting other nations ‘purge’ their young, newly appointed royals.”

“He did not,” she confirms. “Ambassador Wildwood was likely selected to appease those unhappy with Quickhorn’s behavior. That they quietly appointed the former ambassador as a trade advisor to the high chief indicates that perhaps our standing with the minotaurs is not as prominent as we had come to expect. Wildwood’s appointment may be a form of recompense to offset Quickhorn’s lack of punishment since his opinion of Equestria is mostly positive.”

“You know he’s a spy, right?” Cure immediately questions.

Celestia laughs and nods. “All ambassadors are spies to some degree, Cure. It is simply part of the position. Of course,” she meets his eye, “every ambassador will insist that they are not spies, but then, that is exactly what a spy would say, is it not?”

“Sure, whatever,” he shrugs again. “As long as he doesn’t shout for my head to be mounted on a pike then I don’t really care. Then again, that would be a hell of a show of power, wouldn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“We’d talked about it before with the zebras. You may not remember because we didn’t really discuss it at length; more like we were just joking about it. We talked about a few variations, but the idea is that I walk right up to their embassy, shove a spear in the ground, rip my own head off, impale it on the spear, regrow a new one, and walk away.”

The princess looks on in horror as he details the idea. One one hoof, she has to concede; the act would be equal parts terrifying and humbling. Confounding, as well, as the zebras or minotaurs would likely be so bewildered as to not completely understand exactly what the colt is telling them. One part of the message, she is certain, would be heard above all others; There is nothing in your arsenal that can directly hurt me.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he insists, rolling his eyes at the mare. “It’s not like I would ever do it.”

“I should hope not!” she exclaims.

“Of course not. First and foremost, my dam said not to. Other than that, it would give away too much information to my enemies. I’d rather they not know how tough I am, otherwise they may target those around me instead. Any would-be assassins would be much easier to deal with as long as they’re coming for me instead of my family and friends.”

She growls between clenched teeth, “That is not what I meant, Cure.”

“I know, I know,” he says, fanning a hoof placatingly. “Like I said, it was just something dark and humorous I joked with my family about. Needless to say, if somecreature actually removes my head from my neck I will very quickly make my displeasure with them known.”

The elder alicorn lies back down, flat on the cloudy surface. “Another alicorn ascends and he is completely insane. Just my luck,” she quietly laments.

“You know my opinion on sanity, boss. The only thing rarer than an alicorn is a creature that’s completely sane. Your odds of getting both in one package were always nil, sorry to say.”

She doesn’t verbally respond right away, choosing instead to grumble under her breath.

“Moving on,” he declares, prodding at her chest with his hoof. “I want to start making money as Prince Serpentus.”

“Seriously?!” she wails, rolling both of them over so she’s back on top. “Are you part dragon?! Between the tax insanity, your business ideas -”

“For charity, boss!” he shouts, interrupting her.

She stops her rant at once and looks down at him to elaborate.

“I want to start amassing funds for Prince Serpentus to use for charitable pursuits. One thing I talked about is, some day, having a school like your own.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘Oh,’” he huffs. “Jumpin to conclusions much?”

“I feel it was warranted,” she defensively declares.

“Uh huh. So anyhow, there’s a whole bunch of things I can come up with that are a little more on the ‘Serpentus’ end of the spectrum than I would want my real name attached to. Vitamins, health supplements, weight loss pills, treatments for minor things that wouldn’t warrant a trip to the clinic; the list goes on. I don’t want to cause the pharmaceutical industry any more headaches than I already have, but there’s a lot I could be doing that could be monetized without feeling guilty about it.”

The princess, slowly nodding along, finally speaks up in agreement. “Those are all excellent ideas. Anything you develop that you would like to be sold under your royal brand need only be submitted much as you have your other products. You could deliver them either to the hospital as you have, or you could take them directly to Base Carol.” She shrugs and adds, “Or to your local garrison, if you prefer. Ultimately they will all end up here where they can be tested to ensure their safety before being produced for distribution.”

“Cool. I’ll probably hoof anything I come up with over to Dr. Care, then, assuming she’s available. Or I’ll just ask Specialist Strafe to run it to the base if not.”

“Either would be perfectly fine.”

“Awesome.”

“I have a question.”

“Sup?”

“You speak frequently of magic, and I am aware you have no need for further education regarding your earth pony abilities. How fares your progress with weather manipulation?”

The colt’s muzzle twists to the side as he looks away.

“Cure?”

“What?” he grumps.

“You have not once made mention of your lessons. Am I to assume you have not yet begun?”

The colt grumbles and rolls over, poking at the cloud surface as he quietly curses. “No.” He cocks his head to the side. “Err… wait. Yes? Your wording is weird. I haven’t started learning anything yet.”

“Why?” she patiently asks.

“I’ve been busy.”

“I cannot dispute that,” she serenely agrees. “Would you like for me to assign an instructor?”

“No. I’ll just ask Mr. Rain if he can show me the basics. I don’t think he’ll mind. I mean, I did give his wife twins, after all.”

A strangled snort escapes the elder alicorn which quickly morphs into quiet laughter. “That was exceedingly generous of you, Cure,” she manages between chuckles.

“You’re not joking! I had to do both her and Mrs. Dance one right after the other! At least they had the decency to make me dinner first.”

Still fighting back giggles, the princess shakes her head in disbelief. “I can only hope you choose different phrasing in future retellings.”

“Why would I do that?” he innocently wonders.

She pokes him in his hip with her fetlock. “Mental maturity aside, you are entirely too young to get away with saying such things.”

He rolls his entire neck and head, whining, “Alriiight, fiiine! I’ll be good.”

“I would very much appreciate it if you could. You would not want anypony expressing concerns about your upbringing, would you?”

The colt can’t hide the wince from that. Ponies making assumptions about his own behavior is one thing; his parents’ appropriateness being questioned is not something he can allow. “Okay! Point made. I don’t see that happening what with the whole ascension thing, but I get it. I’ll try acting more my age.”

“I am glad to hear that. I am not expecting you to be an expert, but please try to get at least the very basics of weather manipulation started as soon as you can.”

“I will. I bet the girls can give me the basics if he’s busy. I’ll send them a message when I leave.”

“Very well.” He feels her chest expand against his rump as she takes a deep breath. “I am hesitant to bring this up, knowing that the topic, and my reaction in particular, upset you, but I wanted to assure you that I have taken action to correct my mistake. Chancellor Valor and Director Storm have shifted their teams’ primary focus back to your antiviral trees.”

The colt’s ears instinctively pin back in annoyance at the reminder. “Worry not,” she assured him, leaning down to nuzzle into his mane, “our little ponies will not suffer due to my negligence. Even though it would take too long for them to be fully vetted, hospitals will be allowed to prescribe the medicine under the care and supervision of medical staff on an emergency basis, much as was done with the Origin Trees during their initial distribution.”

He sucks a large gulp of air in and exhales quickly through his nose, then gives a shallow nod in acceptance. “Good. That’s good,” he tersely repeats. More calmly he begins, “Sorry for kinda exploding on you -”

“No. I was in the wrong, Cure, and I am sorry.” She scoots her barrel back, laying flat so her neck is on his back and her much larger head rests on his, trapping him in a hug between her forelegs. “We were so focused on addressing the challenge that has plagued our kind forever that we failed to prioritize an available solution to a more immediate, yet, in many ways, more dire problem. Never hesitate to speak your mind when we are alone. It was the right thing to do, and I am very thankful that you have the courage to say something when you discover that we had made a mistake.”

The tension in his body dissipates at her apology. He tells himself that she’s not perfect; a fact he’s pointed out more than once and she has readily admitted. “I understand,” he finally concedes. “Apology accepted, Tia.” He twists his neck and nuzzles into her jaw with his cheek. “I could have responded better, even if I was upset. We’ll be working together for a long, long time. I can’t let my temper get the better of me, even when we’re talking about something so important to me.”

“And I will do my best not to let you frustrate me as well. Difficult as that will no doubt be at times,” she ruefully retorts.

The princess’s quip gets a chuckle from the colt as he bobs his head in agreement, brushing against her all the more. “Funny, I was just thinking how I was lookin forward to seein ya again. Should I take that as a challenge?”

“Would it truly matter if I said no?”

“Nope!”

“I thought as much,” she admits, sinking more fully on him. The two simply snuggle for a moment until another yawn escapes the colt. “I suppose it’s time for all the little colts and fillies to get ready for bed.”

“I suppose so,” he sighs. He leans in hard for one last nuzzle. “Goodnight, Celestia. I am excited to see you again.” He pauses. “You know… for reals and whatnot.”

“And I will look forward to your safe arrival. Goodnight, Cure Wave.”

Author's Note

Alrighty, so... lots of updates in this chapter. First thing - I totally botched the whole travel arrangement thing. I suppose that's the result of not having a buffer like I used to. I'll tell ya - every since this whole move thing my free time to write has taken a major dump. I keep thinking everything should normalize sooner or later, but things just Keep. Popping. Up.

As I keep saying - hopefully soon the issues with the new place will chill out a bit. Both for my sanity and my wallet.

I've seen more than a few comments recently - and have gotten some PMs - asking about when a time skip will occur. As I've said a million times, time skips will occur naturally when there isn't something going on. Just look at it this way - If I start skipping things then there's no going back. Flashbacks are an option, but I've said more than once that they're not a method of storytelling I prefer. If I skip "Cure from age 10 to 12" then those years are gone. Past. To the reader they didn't happen. For all of you wondering when we'll get to the start of FiM, then the answer is "not for a while."

That said, this year in-story has been way, way, WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY longer than I expected it to be. That's largely due to the way Cure ascended and all of the new bullshit he's had to put up with as a result. The opportunity was just too perfect to pass up, though. He'd just done something amazing - more or less hoofed over the fix for the gender imbalance that he developed with his talent, which he had been sharing freely. He had a blast of power tear through him while pseudo-using the powers of the Elements to encourage life's growth (in the plants). I didn't write the scene with that in mind originally, but once it was done I looked at it and said, "Yeah... that's it. That's the moment. I can't pass that up."

Oh well. I can say for sure that, as I have it planned right now, time will move far faster in the future. I don't want to give spoilers out, but suffice to say I do have a rough plan. I will not speed up the story simply to appease the few folks asking for it. I will, however, end "Life Finds a Way" and create a sequel at some point. I really should have done that after his ascension, tbh. New readers are hesitant to tackle a 1 million+ read, and I can't blame them. Chopping it into digestible chunks would have been a better call, but hey... this is my first time doing any of this, so "mistakes were made."

Enough of all that. I could rant for quite a while, but there's no point. Next chapter will take place in a few days, then we'll get to Cure heading back to Canterlot.

Until next week - Enjoy - and, as always, thanks for reading!