"Is that all ya got? C'mon, boss! Put it over the plate here!"
Moondancer hesitated outside the Canterlot Guard exercise room. Then leaning around the open doorway, she peered in.
And saw Tempest, in full mage-armor including the helmet, hurling swings, punches, and whirling bucks at Grubber. The hedgehog was wearing heavily padded protective gear, and he alternated between ducking and weaving and egging her on as she tried to hit him.
"Whoops, too slow!" he called. "Heh heh, too short! Nah, too high! Eeep! Too low!" He barely leapt over a sweeping kick. "Ya call that a swing? I call it a miss! C'mon, gimme all ya got! You're the boss, you're the boss, you're the big scary boss..."
"Uh... excuse me?" Moondancer called.
"Huh?" Grubber looked round in surprise. And Tempest took the opportunity to land a solid punch on him. "Wah!" Grubber barreled across the room, smacking into the padded wall next to the door.
"Oooh," Moondancer winced. "Sorry, Grubber! Are you okay?"
"Sure," he said, hauling himself up. "Hardly felt that. But ya only got me that time," he yelled across at Tempest, "'cause I wasn't lookin'. Don't you go gettin' used to that!"
Tempest snorted derisively. Pulling off the helmet, she grabbed a towel from a rack nearby to mop the sweat from her face.
"Doesn't that hurt, Grubber?" Moondancer asked nervously.
"Nah. Why ya think I'm wearin' this getup?" He gestured to the padded armor. "And trust me, Moonie, if the boss wanted me down, I wouldn't be gettin' up again. So," he went on cheerfully, "what can we do ya for?"
"Well, I brought the scripts for the pageant. And some initial notes on pegasus society and history, so we... can... uh..." Moondancer fell silent as the Commander strode over. Her expression was cold and impossible to read.
"Thanks," Tempest said. "It's nice of you to do that. Tell Twilight we'll be ready."
"Sure. Uh..."
"Was there something else?"
Moondancer gritted her teeth, facing Tempest's stern expression. "I was just thinking, since we're going to be doing most of our scenes together, we might... well..." Then she cringed, embarrassed. "Never mind. It's not important." She turned to go.
"Moondancer," Tempest called. And when Moondancer turned back, Tempest was looking regretful. "Sorry. It's not you. Really, it's not. I'm just... so... frustrated!"
Her rear hoof caught a practice pony standing nearby. The blow knocked half the stuffing out of it, and sent the remnant hurtling through an open window behind her.
Grubber chuckled. "What'd I tell ya?"
Moondancer was staring at Tempest in surprise. "About what?"
"About Twilight! Well, you saw what happened earlier. She was so eager, so excited about this whole pageant thing. And then... it all turned sour on her. And now she's just going through the motions, burying herself in the work and responsibility. And I hate seeing her like that... I just hate it!"
Tempest snorted, scraping the matted floor with an iron-armored hoof. Then she realized she was doing it and stopped, looking embarrassed.
Moondancer risked a smile. "Twilight means a lot to you, doesn't she?"
Tempest sighed. "She means everything to me. She reminded me what it's like to care, to want to be a part of things. To do the right thing."
"You admit that?" Grubber muttered.
"Shaddup. And yeah, maybe I get a little overprotective. She is a grown pony. She can look out for herself. But she trusts me, Moondancer! She treats me like... her big sister or something. So I feel I should live up to that, be there for her. And when I can't, when I have to just shut up and go along with things, it just... just..."
"It hurts, doesn't it?" Moondancer said softly. "Not being able to say anything? Because nopony will listen. And if you try, it'll just make things worse. So you stay quiet, and nopony knows how you really feel..."
"Yeah. Something like that."
"Wow, I didn't know you felt like that, Tempest. You're always so... so tough all the time. I feel nervous just being around you."
Tempest smirked. "Ponies are supposed to feel that way around me. Gives me time to size them up, figure out how to deal with them. I mean, I don't have all the answers. I have to figure it out as I go, same as anypony else."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Take this pageant thing, for example." Tempest shrugged. "I know the legend, like anypony else. But I've never actually been in one of these before. How do I know what to do when I'm on stage? I've never done acting. How do I know I'm any good at it?"
"You might be better than you think," Moondancer said. "What about the time you pretended to be Nightmare Moon to help rescue me?"
"The lighting was on my side. Plus if you remember, I had some good coaching at the time. Speaking of which, don't think I don't appreciate the work you're doing researching pony history for us. It'll help. But when it comes down to it, I don't know how to act. And I don't want to let Twilight down. If I can do nothing else, I want to do my part in this pageant thing -- I want to get that right, at least."
Moondancer looked about to speak. Then she paused, her mouth open, blinking in surprise.
And then grinned. "Hold that thought! I'll be right back."
And turning, she bolted from the room.
Grubber looked up at Tempest. "Now ya done it, boss."
"Yeah..." Tempest said bemusedly. "Kinda walked right into that one, didn't I?"
Moondancer was back in short order, a small stack of books floating beside her in her magic.
"Method acting!" she said.
"Method acting?" Tempest echoed doubtfully.
"It's a technique," Moondancer explained, "whereby you study thoroughly the motivations and intentions of your character. You don't just act out a role, you live it, so your actions and responses are deeply authentic and true to life. By thorough study and some psychological techniques, you try to make use of your own life experiences to inform and reify your acting style."
"Well," Tempest warned, "I've never been one for studying much, and..."
She realized Moondancer was smiling up at her, blinking innocently.
"... annnnd that's where you come in." Tempest nodded. "All right. I'm willing to try anything. How do we start?"
"Well, first you need to read through the notes I put together on pegasus society. Then I can summarize the historical references on Commander Hurricane. And we can see what we can draw from in your own experiences to help you feel confident about your performance. Sound like a plan?"
"Are you trying to give me orders, Private? Attennnn-hut!"
The books hit the floor. Moondancer suddenly found herself standing stiffly at attention, saluting anxiously, with no idea how she got there.
Tempest chuckled. "Guess we don't have to worry about your acting skills," she said languidly. "So okay, gimme that summary of pegasus history. And let's see what we can do here."
"Uhh... okay?" Moondancer whispered. Very carefully...
"This... is weird," Sunset said. "But not totally unfamiliar."
She and Starlight were in the Advanced Projects tower workroom, standing in front of a set of dressing mirrors that had been set up beside the table. Sunset prodded at her forehead with a hoof. She knew her horn was still there. She could feel it by the tingle of its magic aura. But in the glass it was completely hidden by the glamour spell, even when she turned her head left and right to check.
She grinned at Starlight. "In the human world, at CHS, I had to get used to doing without a horn for real. That took some getting used to."
"I can only imagine," Starlight said. "What was it like over there? You know I'm still the only one of us who didn't get to visit."
"Pretty different. And... not so different at the same time. It's kind of hard to put into words."
"Yeah." Starlight scuffed the carpet with a hoof. "Guess you kinda have to go there to really get it, huh?"
"We still could," Sunset said. "The mirror still works. We just need to find a way to make sure the portal is connected to that other world at the right point in its timeline. Hey! You know what we ought to do? We should totally arrange a visit during Spring Break. Both here, and there. That way we'd have plenty of time for all of us to hang out together." Sunset went back to staring at herself in the mirror. "And there'd be less chance of freaking everypony out, seeing us hanging out with ourselves."
"Which is... not something you hear every day," Starlight said. "So anyway, the glamour spell -- you think it'll work?"
"Oh for sure. For us, anyways. But we need to make sure it works for Tempest and Moondancer. Hiding a horn is easy. Convincingly faking a set of functional pegasus wings? That's the real challenge."
Then Sunset frowned at herself in the mirror. "You know, no offense Starlight, but I kinda wish I was still teamed up with Moondancer? She seemed so nervous, and I was really looking forward to being there for her on stage. Covering for her, if she needs it. Helping her to not worry, and just have fun with this."
"You still can," Starlight pointed out. "We'll be right there in the wings. We can prompt her if she needs it."
"Well... she seemed to want somepony with her on stage, just in case anything went wrong. And having experienced what her life was like before our little group, I kinda feel responsible for looking out for her." Sunset stared at her invisible horn. "You think maybe you could extend the glamour spell a bit? Instead of making just my horn invisible, make all of me invisible? That way I could actually be onstage with her."
Starlight shook her head doubtfully. "It'd take a lot more power. And I'd be worried about switching the spell back and forth. What if it got stuck, with only half of you visible or something?"
"Yeah, fair point. One thing we don't want to do is over-complicate things. Still --"
"It might be simpler," Starlight went on, "just using a voice-projection spell. That way you could whisper prompts to her, encourage her if she seems to need it."
"Yeah, that does make more sense." And Sunset grinned. "Guess that's why Celestia made you my Smart Cookie, huh?"
"I try." Starlight smiled sheepishly. "But I was kind of hoping you'd review the text of the spell? Just to see if I missed any corner-cases?"
"In a minute. The Thespian Society dropped off our costumes, and I want to try out mine."
Sunset dug around in the cotton in one of the packing cases. She pulled out an article of clothing that was either a hat, or the Chocolate Ganache that Ate Fillydelphia. Parking it atop her mane, Sunset mugged at her own reflection in the mirror.
"I am a Chancellor!" she declared pompously. "I was elected because I can think outside the box. Which means... klank... I can also think inside the chimney!" She eyed Starlight loftily. "Can youuuu think inside the chimney? I didn't think so!" Unable to contain herself any longer, Sunset broke up laughing. "This is gonna be so great, Starlight! I know all of Puddinghead's lines by heart. I can just go to town with this, ham it up like anything. It's a dream come true!"
"Eeeyeah... about that," Starlight said. "You really think we ought to lean into the humor quite so much?"
"Huh? Whaddyamean?" Sunset stared at her. "Ponies expect this kind of thing. It's like... what do they call it in Trottingham? A pantomime? It's supposed to be over-the-top. At least Chancellor Puddinghead is."
"Yeah well, Moondancer dropped off these books on earth-pony culture." Starlight pointed to a stack of volumes sitting on the worktable. "To help us study up on their history?"
"What's to study?" Sunset dug into the box for the rest of her costume. "We all know the story of Hearth's Warming. How the three tribes came together... how the magic of harmony saved them from the Windigos..."
"I skimmed through some of the references Moondancer marked up," Starlight said. "And I have to admit, the portrayal of the Three Kingdoms in the pageant is, let's be honest, both of questionable historicity and pretty heavy-hoofed. The earth-ponies are pompous and thick-headed, the pegasi are territorial and warlike..."
"... and the unicorns are snooty and elitist," Sunset pointed out, making Chancellor-like faces at herself in the mirror. "It's pretty even-hoofed all round. Nopony comes out looking squeaky-clean. And everypony who watches the play year after year seems to enjoy it. I don't hear anypony calling for it to be shut down, do you?"
"Noooo... they don't," Starlight agreed uneasily. "And maybe... maybe that's not a good thing?"
"How do you mean?" Sunset eyed her, puzzled.
"Princess Celestia asked us to present the pageant this year. And in her note she made a point of saying we should present the true spirit of the season, representing the concerns and interests of all the tribes."
"Yeah. So?"
"Well, you have to admit there's more than a hint of stereotyping, maybe even tribalism, in the depictions of some of these characters. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, and it's just harmless fun. But I'm just not sure that's the kind of message the Heroes of Equestria ought to be sending."
Sunset didn't say anything. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, looking mildly cross.
"You really think a play that ponies have enjoyed for generations is tribalist."
Starlight opened her mouth, then shut it. And grimaced.
"I'm sorry. I'm overthinking things again and..."
"No." Sunset took off the pudding-shaped hat and stared at it. "You're absolutely right, Starlight. It might only be a joke, a bit of holiday fun. But we're not thinking about the joke. We're just presenting it and assuming it's funny. And that's not right, that's not right at all. Wow..." Sunset bit her lip, uncomfortably. "You know, all my life I've wanted to play Puddinghead in the pageant? And now suddenly, thinking about it... I'm not sure I want to have anything to do with it."
"So... what do we do?"
Sunset stared at herself in the mirror. And then, very deliberately, she set the hat back on her head.
"We tell the story the way it ought to be told. We don't take away the fun, the humor, that would just spoil things. But we back it up with a little sensitivity, a little understanding. Of what ponies went through back then, and how they dealt with it -- warts and all. We show these characters as they really were."
She struck a firm, decisive pose. "And, as leader of the earth-ponies, I have reached a decision. We are gonna go it alone!"
She motioned a hoof, smiling. And Starlight hurriedly composed herself and spoke in character. "Aw, that's disappointing, Chancellor. The other ponies didn't come around like we hoped?"
"'Fraid not, Smart Cookie. So we're just gonna to have to make do. Like earth-ponies have always done, when times got tough. We are going to go somewhere new, where we can farm and prosper in peace. And with me as our leader, what could possibly go wrong?"
With a hum of magic from her hidden horn, Starlight yanked an avalanche of cotton packing puffs from the costume boxes and buried Sunset in them.
"Where should I start?" she asked mischievously.
Then she ducked, as Sunset used her own magic to hurl the packing puffs back at her.
Twilight sighed long-sufferingly. "Let's go through the scenes from Act II one more time."
"For what reason? That run-through was perfection itself."
"Just once more to be sure. Okay, Trixie?"
"Ehem?"
Twilight rolled her eyes. "Sorry -- Lady Trixie." And then she paged back through the script.
The two of them were standing on the fold-out stage of Trixie's wagon, parked behind the Advanced Projects tower. Trixie had insisted on it as the venue she felt most comfortable with for rehearsals. And she was in full costume, with the elegantly fleured crown and purple, faux-fur-trimmed cape -- for "authenticity of the performance", as she'd archly put it.
Twilight had reluctantly gone along with it all. It was simpler than trying to persuade the showpony to do anything else. "Don't you think," she asked, "you might be overdoing the title thing just a bit?"
"Huh! And what good, pray tell, is having a title," Trixie huffed, "if ponies don't learn to use it and respect it?"
Twilight grimaced, and muttered under her breath: "Maybe you've heard the one about familiarity breeding contempt?"
Before Trixie could respond, Twilight read aloud from the script: "Scene: Castle of the Unicorns. Doors open in a blast of icy wind. Princess Platinum struggles in from the storm, collapsing in exhaustion."
The one thing that could make Trixie give up flaunting her title was a cue-line. She flung herself on the floorboards in shivering extremity.
"Clover the Clever!" she gasped. "I need you!"
"Yes, your Highness," Twilight read, while using her magic to drape a blanket around the Princess's shoulders. "Did the other tribes see reason as I predicted?"
"Hah!" Trixie rose to her hooves in high dudgeon. "Those other tribes are impossible! I for one can no longer bear to be anywhere near such lowly creatures." She trotted over to the small tuffet they were using as Platinum's lounge and flung herself upon it. "Unicorns are noble and majestic. We will no longer consort with the likes of them!"
And with perfect timing, she jammed her hooves into the small tub of water that was standing in for the Princess's hoof-bath, splashing Twilight's face liberally. Trixie seemed to be deriving particular satisfaction from replaying that bit over and over.
Twilight put up with it, resisting the temptation to put up a warding spell. Instead she used a small facecloth to dry off. Then she paged ahead.
"Scene: Snowy forest exterior. Platinum and Clover emerge from bushes, stage right."
"Oh!" Trixie moaned. "This is simply taking forever. My hooves are killing me! How long have we been walking for?"
"About five minutes, Your Highness," Twilight replied sharply. And it wasn't much of a stretch making her exasperated tone sound authentic.
Yet as they went on with the scene, Twilight had to grudgingly credit Trixie's skill. The showpony might be an impossible diva, but she totally threw herself into the part. She worked entirely from memory, didn't flub a single line, and carried herself with arch superiority throughout. Projection, stage presence, characterization... you name it, it was there. Trixie's experience on the stage made it all look stunningly easy.
If only the pony underneath wasn't such an attention-hogging toothache, Twilight thought to herself.
They came to the small blue scarf representing the trickle of water they had to cross. "Your Highness, it's just a stream," Twilight read from the script. "We can cross it easily."
"I refuse to get my robe wet." Trixie pouted disdainfully. "I have no intention of arriving at my new land looking like a bedraggled earth-pony... or worse yet, a rough-and-tumble pegasus. I, for one, have no intention of stooping down to their level."
Then Trixie smirked. She loved this part.
"On the other hoof, I have no trouble watching you stoop down."
Twilight gritted her teeth. And taking the "Princess" on her back, she lugged her over the scarf.
"And do watch the robe, Clover," Trixie purred in smug satisfaction. "It's worth more than all the books in your library."
Twilight's teeth ground. There were some parts of this play that went just a hair too far...
... and the script wasn't helping either.
Some time later, Twilight was seated at the main worktable in the Advanced Projects tower. On the table before her was a morass of checklists and notes, plus stacks of books and other assorted references on the pageant: musical, theatrical, and historical. Everything she needed to tackle the job with thoroughness and exactitude, all right at her hooftips.
Twilight rested her cheek on a hoof, chewing the feather-tip of her quill. And sighed inconsolably.
"Hey, Twi!" said Spike, trotting up the stairs from the main doors. "Whatcha workin' on?"
"Hi, Spike. I'm reading over the revisions Sunset and Starlight are suggesting for the pageant script. They have a lot of good ideas, which make sense and have good historical precedent, but..."
"But what?" Spike hopped up onto the seat next to her.
"I'm not so sure we should be messing with this," Twilight said. "It's well... traditional. It's been performed the same way for generations. Ponies might be upset if we suddenly changed it."
"Isn't that why Princess Celestia asked us to put this on? To change things up? Maybe bring it up to date?"
"I'm not so sure. This pageant is important. Lots of ponies come to see it, and they bring their children as well. Probably because they want to share the experience they had when they were foals. They might be upset if it wasn't what they remembered."
"Or they might like a change," Spike pointed out. "You did tell me once that changing stuff can be good, right? It gets you thinking about things in new ways."
"Yeah, but... what if you were reading one of your Power Ponies comics, and somepony changed the ending? Like, made the Masked Matterhorn a villain or something?"
"Woah!" Spike grinned. "An evil mind-control plot-twist cliffhanger? I'd love to read a story like that! But... eeyeah, I get your point."
Twilight stared at the revised script. "I'm just not sure we should be messing with ponies' fond memories like this. It's not our place to rewrite this thing. Better to leave it alone, let ponies enjoy something familiar."
Then she sighed again.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, it's Trixie," Twilight muttered. "She's being insufferable. I mean, more than usual. I think this whole title thing has gone to her head. And she seems to take a perverse pleasure in rubbing my nose in it."
"Well, why don't ya tell her to quit it? Stop being such a pest?"
"I can't, Spike. She's Princess Luna's personal student now, kind of like I'm Princess Celestia's."
"So? Talk to Princess Luna, get her to straighten Trixie out."
"I can't do that, Spike. Luna's still adjusting to being a Princess again. How's it going to make her feel if I go whining to her about her student being difficult?"
"Then talk to Celestia. Maybe she'd know what to say to Luna?"
"That'd be even worse. And Celestia's taught me to be better than that, to solve my own problems. She's asked the Advanced Projects team to put on this play, and I'm in charge of it. So I need try to set the example here. And hope Trixie catches on."
"Trixie? Huh, fat chance!"
Twilight grimaced. "And it's taking all the fun out of playing Clover the Clever. I guess I hoped to avoid that by letting Starlight play Clover. But it didn't work out that way." She shrugged resignedly. "I'll just have to tough it out. And I don't think we should change the script. We should just... put the pageant on as it is, do as good a job as we can with it."
"You don't think we should try changing things, even a little bit?"
"No, Spike." Twilight shook her head. "Best to let things be."
"Oh. Okay. Well, I'll catch ya later!"
"Where're you off to in such a rush?"
"The others asked me to take care of somethin'. See ya!"
Spike hopped down off the seat, then trotted back across the workroom to the stairs. Then down them, and out through the main doors to the balcony outside.
Where Starlight, Sunset, Moondancer, and Tempest were waiting.
Spike looked at them and shrugged. "She said no, guys."
"To which part?" asked Starlight.
"To all of it. Changing the play, talking sense into Trixie... I think she feels responsible to Celestia for making things run smoothly. And she doesn't think she should take chances."
"Can't fault her for that, I guess," Sunset said.
"So what do we do now?" asked Moondancer.
Tempest snorted. She scowled darkly, scraping an armored hoof across the marble tiles.
"Now... we tackle this problem from the other end. Let's go."
Trixie was trotting along one of the corridors of the Palace, humming importantly to herself. She had just ascertained that the stage and performance rigging being constructed in the Royal Performance Hall was... adequate, as she would put it.
That Cheese Sandwich might be a gadabout, a gagster, and a flibbertigibbet, Trixie thought to herself, but he can get things organized, no question about...
A loud metallic clang ahead of her brought Trixie to a startled halt. It was Tempest, looming before her in full mage-armor, eyes narrowed threateningly. On either side of her were Sunset and Moondancer, forehooves crossed, both of them giving Trixie determined looks.
"Uhhh..." Trixie said cautiously, "what's going on?"
She suddenly found Starlight beside her, putting a friendly hoof around her shoulders, eyeing her sternly.
"Your Grace," Starlight said, "we need to talk..."
Twilight was still at the worktable, having finally finished her review of the script -- the original script, she told herself firmly -- in preparation for marking it approved and sending it off to be printed as rehearsal copies.
A gentle cough made her look up. It was Trixie, standing in the open area near the stairs. Behind her were the rest of the team, Tempest, Sunset, Starlight, Moondancer, Spike, and Grubber.
"Yes, Trixie?" Twilight asked tiredly. Then she rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I mean Lady Trixie."
"Ahem. It has been brought to Lady Trixie's attention that she has not been behaving in a fashion that is, how should I put it, consistent with proper etiquette and bearing of a Lady of the Royal Court? For that, Trixie wishes to proffer an apology." Then she shrugged and spoke normally. "But in Trixie's defense... you need to stand up for yourself more."
Sunset looked at the others. "Don't know about you gals, but as apologies go, this sucks."
Trixie held up a hoof. "Hear Trixie out! Now," she added to Twilight, "are you or are you not an Acting Princess?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"Then why aren't you acting like it? If I'm in your mane, put me in my place, set me straight! Weren't you listening to me? What is the use of a title if you're not going to use it, huh?"
"Because I shouldn't have to," Twilight objected heatedly, "You should know better, Trixie! You're so... so..."
"Arrogant?" Trixie quickly suggested. "Self-serving, obnoxious, even extravagant? Huh! I know you'd never say those things, Twilight, but it's what you're thinking. And it's all true! Trixie is all those things, she has to be! Look, I had to work my way up, struggle like anything to get attention and recognition. Whilst you, Acting Princess Twilight --" She emphasized the title with acid sarcasm. "-- have had it practically hoofed to you on a silver platter. So if I've finally achieved a bit of well-deserved recognition, then by gosh, I'm gonna play that for everything it's worth!" Trixie determinedly thumped the floor with a hoof.
And then, in the shocked silence that followed, she took off her hat and held it in her forehooves, looking uncommonly humble. "But..." she said quietly, "I'm also part of this group, right? Trixie would never want to give that up, title or no title."
Surprised, Twilight shrugged. "Well, of course. Like Sunset says, we're a team."
"Right. And you're in charge of that. So, you need to say what's what. Call me out, set the rules -- be in charge! Trixie won't mind."
"Are you sure? Because I do want us to be a team, to work together. But I also know how important it is for each of us to have the space to be ourselves. Even when that can be a little... frustrating," she added grumpily. "And if I allow that for everypony else then... well... I need to do the same for you, don't I?"
Trixie nodded. "How about this? The Great and Powerful Lady Trixie does not promise not to be difficult, irritating, self-aggrandizing, whenever it suits her." Then she smirked. "But she will try to make sure it's to a purpose. Make sure it's helping the group." She settled her hat back on her mane, and brushed the edge of it with a hoof. "After all, as the saying goes, the show must go on, eh?"
Twilight nodded. And managed a smile. "I think I can live with that."
Then she looked back at the table, at the script ready to be sent out. And pushed it aside, reaching instead for the revised script. "You know, gang, maybe it would be a good idea to change things up a bit. Work in some of these really great revisions you've come up with. Let me give this one more pass, maybe tweak a few things. And then we can give it a read-through together, see how it flows."
Sunset nodded. "Sure thing, Twilight."
And she and the rest of the group looked at each other, grinning proudly. Sometimes, in order to unstick a logjam, you simply had to find the king log.
Or in this case, the Acting Princess...
Gently to Hear, Kindly to Judge, Our Play!
The day of the pageant finally arrived. The sky was gray and overcast with a light drifting of snow, and it was a brisk, breezy walk as the Advanced Projects team strolled along Diamond Avenue on their way to the Royal Performance Hall.
The Hall itself was on the Palace grounds, but it had been Twilight's idea to take the long way round, looking at the decorations in Upper Canterlot as a way of getting themselves properly in the spirit of the season before the performance. And nopony could say she was wrong. Canterlot had seemingly outdone itself this year.
"Would you look at it all?" Twilight said. "The wreaths, the trees, the lights and bells... I think Hearth's Warming is my favorite time of the year."
"Brrr!" Starlight shivered. "It's chilly though. Seems like it's been getting colder every day this week, too."
"It's always like this," Sunset said, "the last week or two leading up to the holiday. And then afterwards it warms right up again, like clockwork."
"At least it means there's usually snow on the ground for the holiday," said Twilight. "It makes Canterlot look so festive!"
"I'm just glad Moondancer had these extra scarves." Starlight put a hoof to the blue one around her neck. "Thanks!"
"Not a problem," Moondancer nodded. "My mom keeps sending them to me so I always have spares. Wouldn't want anypony having a sore throat or catching cold, not on a day like this."
"The Rugged and Adaptable Lady Trixie doesn't mind the cold, of course." Trixie hunched inside her cloak for warmth, pressing a hoof to her hat to keep it from blowing off. "But she does think a mug of hot cider, or cocoa or something, would not go amiss later on."
"I'm sure they'll have something for us backstage," Twilight said, "for the stars of the show. Right, Tempest?"
Tempest was out in front, stalking forwards in stern silence, clearing a path through the smiling and waving crowds by sheer force of personality. She briefly nodded in Twilight's direction, then faced forward again, saying nothing.
Twilight was about to ask what was up, but Moondancer nudged her, shaking her head.
"Method acting," Moondancer whispered. "She's staying in character."
"Oh." Twilight shrugged. "Well, whatever works, I guess..."
The Royal Performance Hall was packed to its stained-glass windows with ponies, eagerly chattering amongst themselves and waiting for the show to start.
And backstage in the dressing area, things were busy too. Grubber was working on strapping Tempest into Commander Hurricane's armor. Trixie was seated before one of the makeup mirrors, touching up her appearance and adjusting her crown and robe, flicking away bits of dust no one else could see. Moondancer was nervously paging through her copy of the script, going over her cue-lines. Starlight was practicing the glamour spell: hiding her horn, then giving herself wings, then cancelling the spell, over and over to be certain she could work it quickly and flawlessly. Sunset was already dressed as Puddinghead, and she alternated between mugging at herself in the mirror and serving as coach for the group, helping keep up their spirits and enthusiasm.
And Twilight... she looked upon it all with a proud smile. And worried. She could hardly do otherwise.
Cheese Sandwich poked his head through the curtains leading to the stage. "Two minutes to curtain, gals. And wow, you all look great! You'll knock 'em dead out there."
"Thanks, Cheese," Twilight grinned. "And thanks for taking care of the stage for us. We needed all the practice time we could get."
"Not a problem. Anything for the team, you know that. Actually it was easy with my helpers here." He gestured at Spike, already dressed in his page-like Narrator's costume. And then at a skew-eyed gray pegasus, who waved a hoof eagerly at the famous Heroes of Equestria. Then Cheese and the pegasus vanished back through the curtains to check on the rigging for the first scene, leaving Spike behind.
"The Princesses are here already," Spike said. "I saw them sitting down in the Royal Stall up in the back. No fanfare or anything, just like you said."
Twilight nodded. "Celestia says she may hoof the bill, but she'd never want to steal attention from the real performers. Is Luna with them?"
"Uh huh." Spike looked doubtful. "She looked a little bored, actually. But maybe that's just because she had to get up so early."
"Okay." Twilight looked around the group. "Are we ready, gang?"
"Ready as we'll ever be," Sunset agreed. And the others nodded too.
But Tempest was looking troubled. "This feels wrong, somehow," she muttered. "Not wearing my usual armor. Guess I'm just used to it. This costume stuff, it feels like tinfoil."
"Don't worry, Tempest," Twilight said. "Shining Armor and most of the Royal Guard are out there. All we have to worry about is hitting our marks and speaking clearly."
"Your brother, Twilight, technically reports to me," Tempest replied. "And pageant or no, our little group's safety is still my job." She frowned, eyeing her mage-armor hanging on its rack.
"You know..." Moondancer tapped her snout speculatively. "If we borrow some of the medals and other decorations from the costume armor, Tempest's is a pretty close match. You think anypony would notice?"
"If we're gonna do this," Sunset warned, "let's make it fast. We're short on time here."
Between the five ponies, one dragon, and one hedgehog, they had Tempest reclad in her original armor in record time. Tempest shrugged it into place, then tapped the floor with an armored hoof. "Thanks. Now I feel properly ready to take on an army... or an audience."
"Showtime, gang!" called Cheese through the curtains.
"Okay, everypony," Twilight said. "This is it. I know we'll do our best out there. So I only want to say that no matter how our changes to the play go over, I know we're doing the right thing here. The rest..." She shrugged. "... is up to the audience. So let's get out there, and give 'em a show!"
"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Trixie. And she curtseyed gracefully. "Your Highness."
"Thanks, Your Grace," Twilight replied. Then she looked at Spike. "Ready, Number One Assistant? You and Grubber are up first."
"Ready, Twi! I mean, ahem --" Spike coughed into a claw, then spoke in character. "Ready, m'lady. We shall give them a royal performance!"
"Or at least a royally good laugh," added Grubber. Then he grinned and fist-bumped Spike, and the two of them headed through the curtain to take their places onstage.
Twilight consulted her checklist. "Trixie, Tempest, Sunset, you're up next for the conference scene. And then the rest of us for the individual scenes. Uhhh... does my cloak look humble enough?"
"You look fine, Twilight," Starlight told her. "Okay, earth and pegasus characters, line up and let me put the whammy on you."
In short order, Starlight and Sunset were lacking horns, and both Moondancer and Tempest had pegasus wings instead.
"Is the spell stable?" Twilight fretted. "Can you keep it going, Starlight?"
"Hmm... took a little longer with Tempest, not sure why. But don't worry, Twilight. Sunset helped me optimize the spell. With rest breaks like we planned, I can keep it going all night."
"Then let us make haste, good subjects!" said Trixie in a grand tone. "Let us not be late for our entrance. The Great and Powerful Princess Platinum waits on nopony. Onward!"
"And don't worry, Moon-Moon," Sunset added over her shoulder. "When you're on, I'll be right here backstage, if you need me."
"No sweat, Sunset," Moondancer replied. "Commander Tempest -- I mean, Commander Hurricane -- has got me covered. Isn't that right, Sir?"
Tempest nodded smugly. "Have to look after my personal protegé. At least, that's what it says in the history books. Are you ready, Private?"
"Sir!" Moondancer saluted eagerly. "Ready, sir!"
Tempest nodded curtly. Then she, Trixie, and Sunset headed through the curtain to wait in the wings for their cue.
And as they went, Sunset had an astonished look on her face. Then she shook her head, smiling proudly.
"Good for you, Moon-Moon!" she whispered.
The play opened as usual with the Narrator -- or in this case the pair of them -- standing on stage before a crackling fireplace.
"Once upon a time," Spike began, "before the peaceful rule of Celestia --"
"That was a really long time ago," Grubber added, prompting a surprised laugh from the audience.
"And before ponies discovered our beautiful land of Equestria," Spike went on, "ponies did not know harmony. It was a difficult and strife-filled time, when ponies were torn apart... by hatred!"
Grubber looked at him.
"Are you sure it wasn't because they needed a good cappuccino? Seriously folks," he added to the audience, "there weren't any good coffee shops back then?"
"Ahem!" Spike said pointedly. And Grubber quickly shut up, though with a mischievous smile on his face that made the younger ponies in the audience giggle delightedly.
"In those troubled times, as now," Spike went on, "the Pegasi were the stewards of the weather..."
Spike continued onwards, through the opening history of the pageant, with Grubber sneaking in a comment every now and then. And from behind the scenes, Twilight and Starlight peered through the curtains, judging the audience's reaction.
"So far so good," Starlight said. "They're not demanding refunds."
"The pageant's free," Twilight reminded her. "But yeah, they do seem happy with it."
"Then let's see how they react to the conference scene."
The conference opened as usual. The three leaders were introduced, they sat down around the conference table, and immediately began shouting at one another. And things went more or less as planned... with one or two exceptions.
"All I want to know," Tempest demanded crossly, "is why crop production is down. My soldiers are starving!"
"If they are," Sunset shot back, "it's because your weather teams are falling down on the job. With all this ice and snow, even our farming skills can't make crops grow."
"For the hundredth time!" Tempest growled. "It's not us! This snow isn't our doing. It must be the unicorns." She glared across the table at Trixie. "They're using their magic to tamper with the weather somehow. The same way they've already messed up the day and night."
"Huh!" Trixie tossed back. "We would never trouble ourselves with the weather, Commander. That's your responsibility. And as for the day/night thing, well..." She shrugged primly. "That's still being looked into."
"Just as well," Tempest snarled. "The weather's far too important to be left in the hooves of unicorns. And if you earth ponies aren't able to farm," she added to Sunset, "then maybe we should take over your job too?"
"Like to see you try," Sunset fired back. "Seeing you cloud-hopping pegasi actually getting your hooves dirty? That'd be the day!"
"We're not lazy like you are," Tempest retorted. "We know about things like discipline, responsibility -- duty. We get the job done."
"Hey! We're not lazy!" Sunset objected. Then she thought about it, and spoke to the audience. "Except on casual Tuesdays. Then yeah, we're lazy!"
The audience laughed. It was classic Puddinghead, disarming the moment with a gag.
But Tempest wasn't letting it go. "You dirt-grubbers," she snapped. "You wouldn't know responsibility if it bit you! You're far too easy-going, far too careless. If you'd been in charge of the Sun and Moon, I bet we wouldn't be able to find them right now!"
"Just a moment, Commander Hurricane!" Trixie objected. "This is supposed to be a serious discussion. Kindly keep your well-known temper in check!"
"Or what?" Tempest glared at her fiercely, and even Trixie drew back uncertainly. "You're not our Princess, Your Highness. You think your kind is better than us simply because you can do a few magic tricks? You think that makes you somehow capable of leadership?" Tempest snorted, enraged. "You couldn't even keep your own Court mages from trying to usurp the throne!"
Behind the scenes Moondancer swung a hoof. "Oh yeah!" she whispered proudly. "Forgot to mention that in my notes. You've got this, Tempest! History for the win!"
On stage Tempest's eyes were narrowed, her ears laid back. "And let me tell you something, your Royal Haughtiness: no true pegasus would ever bend knee to a... a prong-head!"
"Prong-head?" Moondancer scratched her head. "That's not in the script. Oh, wait a sec..." Her magic grabbed up a thick reference tome and she paged through it. "Yeah! It's a contemporary tribalist slur. Nopony even remembers it now. Ha! Tempest has really done her homework."
"Isn't she overdoing it a bit?" Twilight asked.
"No, that's just Method acting," Moondancer replied. "It helps an actor really nail the part."
"She nails it any harder," Starlight said worriedly, "they'll hang her on it."
On stage, Trixie had recovered her composure. "Well!" she said, standing up from the table. "I am a Princess, and I will not be spoken to in that way! I am leaving!"
"Running away, like always?" Tempest sneered, rising to her hooves as well. "Scurrying back to your ivory tower on the hill, just when there's work to be done? Well, what can we expect from a bunch of self-important, arrogant hoof-wigglers?" She snorted. "We pegasi are not merely leaving," she shouted, "we have had enough of you! We are done with you! Forever!"
She brought an armored hoof crashing down onto the table. Beneath the thunderous blow the table didn't merely collapse. It shattered, all but exploding into kindling.
The three ponies stared at the wreckage in surprise, Tempest most of all. Then Sunset looked up at the audience.
"Guess we don't build 'em like we used to, huh?"
The audience broke up laughing, and the three tribe leaders managed to finish the scene and exit the conference hall before anything else happened.
Twilight heaved a sigh of relief as the curtains swung closed for the scene change. "One down," she said, "eleven more to go..."
Then she looked around, puzzled. "Hey, did somepony leave a window open?"
There was a chill, wintry breeze wafting through the backstage area. It made the curtains billow slightly.
Moondancer nodded. "Yeah, I wasn't going to complain, but it is a little drafty back here."
"I'll go check!" Starlight said, hurrying off.
"Don't be gone long!" Twilight called after her. "You're on soon, remember?"
"And so," Spike was saying onstage, "the blizzard raged on. And the summit of the three tribes had not turned out as well as they'd hoped."
"That's puttin' a spin on it, huh?" Grubber winked at the audience.
"Hence the three leaders returned home," Spike continued, "to lick their wounds and make plans..."
"... annnnd basically complain a lot," said Grubber, as the curtains swept open again.
On the cloud-city set Moondancer stood waiting in her Private Pansy costume, visibly trembling with stage-fright.
Tempest strode onstage, head high and proud. "Atten-hut!"
"Sir!" Moondancer yelped, saluting. "How did it go, sir?"
"Horribly," Tempest growled. "As we suspected, they had no idea as to the cause of this bad weather. Or any thoughts of how to deal with it. Or any thoughts at all! All they cared about was assigning blame -- hmph! Let this be a lesson to you, young Private," she added sharply, "you want something done, you do it yourself. That's the pegasus way!"
"Sir! Yes, Sir... uh, Sir! So... what are we going to do, Sir?"
Tempest appeared to consider it at length. "We are going to have to try something risky," she finally said. "Something different and unexpected. But pegasi are used to risks, are we not, Private?" Tempest stamped a hoof decisively, making Moondancer jump. "We are going to set out to discover a new land! Where there will be no earth ponies or unicorns to get in our way."
"Erm... won't that be lonely, Sir?"
Tempest eyed her furiously. "Is that disloyalty I hear, Private?"
"No, Sir!" Moondancer saluted tensely. "Not from me, Sir!"
"Good." Tempest nodded, and cast a scowling gaze at the audience. "It's high time we broke ranks with these weak foals..."
A quick scene-change, and the doors to the Castle of the Unicorns swung open, revealing a landscape of blowing, drifting snow outside.
Out of the storm struggled Trixie, shivering and distraught.
"Clover the Clever!" she gasped, "I need you!"
"Yes, Your Highness." Twilight approached, covering her with a warm blanket and shutting the doors against the storm. "Did the other tribes agree to us all working together, as I predicted?"
"Far from it!" Trixie huffed. "There I was, offering diplomacy and leadership, the benefit of our studied wisdom and culture. And all they could talk about was who was responsible! They were impossible! Let us speak of it no further."
Trixie flung herself down on the lounge nearby. "They even had the nerve to bring up the whole Sun and Moon thing again. As if that was our fault! We will have nothing more to do with the likes of them!"
On the beat, her hooves hit the water in the hoof-bath. It splashed, and despite herself Twilight tensed. But not a drop hit her face. She stared at Trixie, and saw the showpony's horn was glimmering just a hint. Just enough for a well-placed, low-power warding spell.
Trixie winked, then pressed onwards. "I am the Great and Powerful Princess of the Unicorns," she declared, hopping down from the lounge seat. "And I have had more than enough of trying to be reasonable. So I have reached a decision: we must abandon these other ponies to their ceaseless squabbling, and seek... a new land!"
"A new land, Your Highness?"
"Yes! And with my Great and Powerful Royal Sorcerer to guide me, how can we possibly fail?" So saying, Trixie elbowed Twilight with a smile, and then bowed her head graciously. And Twilight, utterly surprised, found herself bowing in return.
"Of course, Your Highness."
Another scene change, and now it was Sunset and Starlight's turn.
Starlight was standing near the fireplace in the Chancellor's house, peering up the flue, as if looking for something -- or somepony.
The sound of the door opening and then slamming behind her made her turn in surprise.
"Don't you normally use the chimney, Chancellor?"
"Aha!" Sunset replied. "Some ponies might be expecting that!" She winked at the audience, making them laugh. "But I am a Chancellor. I'm paid to think outside the box. Which means I can think outside the chimney!" She crossed her hooves smugly. "Can you think outside the chimney? I didn't think so!"
Starlight rolled her eyes indulgently. "Yes, Chancellor. So, how did it go? Did the other pony tribes agree to help us figure out where all this cold is coming from?"
"Not a chance. It was all where's the food?, and whose magic is responsible? and the like. They didn't even want to hear our proposal."
"Oh, that's a shame. I really hoped they'd see it was in their best interests."
"Never mind them, Smart Cookie. We are just going to have to go it alone, like earth-ponies have always done when things get rough. And as Chancellor, I have reached a decision: we are going to find some place new, where we can farm and prosper in peace."
Sunset swung round and reached for the door handles.
"And with me as our leader, what could possibly go wrong?"
She yanked open the doors. And was promptly buried in the inrush of stage snow that Cheese had quickly banked up on the other side of it. The audience roared with laughter.
And Starlight looked out at them, smirking.
"Where should I start?"
They somehow managed to get through the scenes of the three tribes journeying to the new land without serious incident. But then, while going over her checklist in preparation for the confrontation scene, Twilight suddenly looked up in surprise.
"Starlight, I thought you shut that open window."
"There wasn't an open window." Starlight shrugged. "Not one I could see. I checked all around."
"But it's still drafty in here."
There was a distinct breeze now, blowing through the backstage. But strangely, it was not wintry chill. This breeze was warm and pleasant. It was reminiscent of the first few days of summer, with the scent of fresh-mown hay and sweet flowers.
"Seems like it's coming from over there." Moondancer pointed to the curtains leading to the stage. Puzzled, Twilight pushed through the curtains, the other two right behind her.
And they came to a halt, staring.
Before them was a broad, rolling stretch of meadowland. It extended to the horizon, bracketed by tall peaks in the distance. The sky was a breathtaking blue, with a blazingly warm sun overhead.
Twilight looked behind her, and saw the curtains had vanished. There was only more of the rolling meadowlands, wide open and untouched.
It was no stage set. It was the real thing. It was Equestria, pristine and new, as it might have looked back in the day.
"Are we dreaming?" Starlight asked.
"What's going on?" Moondancer gasped.
Before Twilight could reply, a voice shouted from overhead. "We planted our flag first!"
Twilight looked up and saw Tempest, still in costume as Commander Hurricane. The Commander was standing atop a cloud, without any visible means of support. As Twilight watched, she flared her pegasus wings threateningly.
"Woah," Starlight whispered. "The glamour spell's not doing that. We didn't have time to make it do functional wings properly."
Tempest was glaring downwards at a cliff edge to Twilight's right. On the cliff stood Trixie, in her Princess Platinum costume.
"Hah!" Trixie shouted back, "You riffraff are trespassing in Unicornia!"
"The name is Pegasopolis," Tempest retorted furiously.
"Unicornia!"
Below, sitting on a rise of open dirt in the meadow, was Sunset wearing her Chancellor Puddinghead costume. She sat with her forehooves crossed and her face pouted determinedly.
"I've already named this place Earth!" Sunset yelled. "And congratulations to me for thinking of it!"
"Pegasopolis!"
"Unicornia!"
"Earth!"
"What the hay is going on?" Moondancer whispered. "What's gotten into them?"
"What she said," Starlight agreed. "This doesn't usually happen at the pageant, does it?"
"Not that I know of," Twilight said. "I mean, the pageant always seems larger than life. The effects always seem to draw you in, make you feel like you're actually there, but --"
Tempest swooped down from the cloud to hover, snout to snout, in front of Trixie. "I say we fight for the land!" she shouted. "May the best pony win!"
"That's barbaric," Trixie sneered. "But what can one expect, from hot-headed, aggressive war-mongers?" She looked round, spotted Twilight. "Clover the Clever!" she called imperiously. "Throw that brute in the dungeon!"
"What dungeon?" Twilight asked, confused. "Look, if we all just calm down for a minute and try to figure this out..."
"I agree," Starlight said. "Let's calm down."
"I vote for calm," added Moondancer timidly.
Tempest's gaze swung on her furiously. "I'll have you court-martialed for insubordination, Private!" Then she returned to glaring at Trixie, smacking her armored forehooves together threateningly. "We settle this on the battlefield!"
As the three leaders continued arguing amongst themselves, Twilight and the others turned to look at each other, astonished.
"What the --" Moondancer blinked. "Those were lines from the script!"
"Yeah! And we said them, voluntarily," Starlight agreed, "as if it was what we were thinking. Is free will out to lunch here, or what?"
"Somehow the pageant has come to life," Twilight fretted. "We're not just acting it out anymore."
"It's almost like we're back when this actually happened," Moondancer said. "Reliving historical events."
"Or maybe it's the glamour spell," Starlight suggested. "Maybe it's gone haywire! I can cancel it, and..."
"No wait, Starlight!" Twilight warned. "You said yourself, the spell isn't doing this, at least not entirely. And remember, the first rule of spellcasting is..."
"Think before you cast," the three of them chorused, with feeling.
"We need to understand why this is happening," Twilight continued. "Then we'll know what to do."
"Any ideas?" Moondancer asked.
Twilight didn't have a chance to answer. As they'd been talking, the skies had been clouding over, the gentle breeze had turned icily chill. A gradually increasing snowfall was blanketing the land. And, in the distance overhead, they could hear a booming, echoing bellow, a chill, animal roar of triumph.
It was repeated -- and seemed to be drawing closer.
"The windigos!" Twilight breathed, terrified. "Uhh, maybe we should discuss this later? We need to find shelter, like now!"
"There's a cave!" Moondancer said, pointing. "Over that way!"
"Stage right..." Starlight muttered, in fascinated horror. "You think the pageant is still going on? Is the audience seeing all this?"
"I don't know," Twilight said. "But this scene focuses mostly on the leaders. We're just background characters. That may be why we're able to react to what's happening."
"And why the others are so caught up in it," Moondancer agreed.
"First things first," Twilight said. "Let's get our friends out of danger. And then figure this out..."
It took some doing, first getting the attention of the three leaders, then getting them to agree that seeking shelter was in their best interest. And then getting them all moving in the same general direction, eyeing each other suspiciously. But soon everypony was in the cave, in the relative safety of its chill gloom.
Twilight managed to get a small mage-fire going, and the three assistants huddled close to it, listening as the leaders continued their angry arguing.
"Well!" Tempest snarled at Trixie. "Looks like you unicorns are already hard at work meddling with the climate in this land, too."
Trixie sniffed. "As I've told you before, Commander, we have had nothing to do with the cold, either then or now."
"Well, this is a fine kettle of corn," Sunset grumbled. "If you weather-ponies and mages can't use your magical powers to fix this situation, then I'm just fresh out of ideas!"
"Hmph," Tempest muttered. "An earth pony with no ideas. What a surprise."
"Commander!" Trixie rapped a hoof. "Cease with the insults! They're not getting us anywhere."
"I don't see you coming up with any useful plans, Your Highness. We need a plan of action, and we need it now!"
"We may also need a shovel," Sunset said, staring out through the cave entrance. "It's getting deep out there..."
Twilight, Starlight, and Moondancer stared around at their friends. And then looked gloomily at each other.
"We haven't travelled in time, have we?" Starlight asked. "Is this what actually happened? Or just a re-enactment, like the pageant itself?"
"It seems accurate," Moondancer said. "Based on my research. But remember, records from back then are really sketchy and biased. Modern historians have had to interpolate between the different tribes' versions of events."
"Either way, we have to be careful," Twilight said. "I don't know if this actually is the past, or just the pageant on overdrive. But this is a pivotal moment in Equestrian history. If we should change anything..."
"But we've already changed something, haven't we?" Starlight said. "We changed the script of the pageant."
Twilight's eyes went wide. "Uh oh."
Starlight grimaced. "When you say uh-oh like that, Twilight, my coat gets all bristly. What is it?"
"What if..." Twilight asked, "what if it's not merely a pageant? What if it's a spell? A really complex, really subtle spell?"
"Seriously?" Moondancer asked. "I thought it was just a holiday play?"
"Think about it: the pageant has been performed the same way for generations," Twilight said. "The same characters, saying the same things, doing the same things, following a script that never varies, year after year. The same speeches, the same jokes, the same pratfalls..."
"Like a ritual." Starlight nodded. "Following a pattern that leads to a desired outcome. In this case, the kindling of the flame of friendship."
"Really?" Moondancer shook her head. "Sounds like an awfully complicated way to light a fire. And why a play, then? Why isn't it just a spell you can cast? That'd be simpler."
"The audience!" Starlight gasped. "All those ponies who come to see this thing, every year. And bring their children to see it. Bringing their laughter and good feelings and fellowship..."
"... and renewing the flame of friendship." Twilight nodded. "Powering it up, generation on generation. And If that's true... then it's amazing! A defense against the windigos, summoned out of the very magic of harmony itself."
"Yeah..." Moondancer considered it. "It may have started as some kind of mystic ceremony. And then over the centuries morphed into a traditional Hearth's Warming entertainment. As Trixie might say, fun for all ages. Bring the kids, they'll love it too..."
"And now we've gone and messed it all up," Starlight fretted. "Greaaaat... yay for us, I guess?"
"Not yet. The pageant isn't over," said Twilight. "So maybe the spell is still in play. And that means it's up to us to set things right, before it ends."
"But how?" Starlight said. "If we've already changed it... do we have to start all over again? With the old script?"
Twilight bit her lip, feeling frantically uncertain. "No," she finally said. "We finish it, just as we wrote it, changes and all. And hope it's enough. Maybe the specifics of the play aren't important. But we do know the outcome is: saving the Three Kingdoms from the windigos, and lighting the fire of friendship."
"Hey, no pressure, huh?" whispered Moondancer.
A sharp voice interrupted them from across the cave. "Private!" Tempest snarled. "What are you three whispering about over there? Front and center, right now!"
"Eeep!" Moondancer winced, looking terrified. "What do I do?"
"We humor them," Twilight reminded her. "Encourage them to work together, just like we wrote in the revised script."
Moondancer nodded. "Right." She looked over her shoulder. "Uh, yes Sir! Right away, Sir!"
"And remember, girls," Twilight added urgently. "This part of the play revolves around us. And our friends need our help. So let's make it count!"
Reluctantly Moondancer turned, then trotted over to where Tempest stood peering out through the cave entrance at the deepening drifts beyond. She half expected to be chewed out for dereliction of duty, or fraternizing, or something like that.
Instead, Tempest looked down at her with wry concern, her voice unexpectedly gentle.
"Not what we expected to find here, is it?"
"Uh... no Sir," Moondancer said in surprise.
"If only the others hadn't messed it up," Tempest grumbled. "They just don't think -- at least, not like we pegasi do." She eyed Moondancer sourly. "I know you keep saying it'd be nice if we could learn more about them, work together with them. But you have to curb this bookish curiosity, Private! It's going to be the death of you. Maybe someday, we'll get along better with the other tribes. But that day's not today, understood?"
"Uh... yes, Sir," Moondancer said.
Tempest sighed wearily. "I promised your parents I'd look out for you. Take you under my wing, teach you to be a proper soldier. And I meant that, Private, every word of it. So you need to listen to me!"
"Um. Yes, Sir... sorry, Sir." Moondancer lowered her head, looking miserable.
The Commander stared at her at length. Then smiled wryly.
"Not sure I've ever mentioned it, Private, but your mother and I were rather close when we were younger. So in some ways, you're like the daughter I never had." Then Tempest's fierce glare returned. "Which means I need to keep you safe! Understood?"
"Yessir! Uh... Sir?"
"What?" Tempest snapped dangerously.
"You mind if I take some notes? This is important historical detail, and I'm not sure it's written down anyplace..."
Across the cave, Starlight stood beside Sunset, watching as the pony played with a rock, using it to scribble small sketches in the patchy dirt covering the uneven floor. And Starlight found herself wondering whether that was what had really happened, and it somehow morphed into the childish scene in the pageant of the three leaders drawing lines on the cave floor and daring each other to cross them.
Then Starlight forced herself to pay attention -- Sunset was speaking.
"So," Sunset said, "this is another fine mess I've gotten us into. Eh, Smart Cookie?"
"Um... yes, Chancellor?"
Sunset pitched the rock across the cavern, watched it clatter down the cold stone wall. "And it's so frustrating! All I ever want is for everypony to just get along and be happy in their work. Because farming is work, Cookie, hard work! And sometimes a good laugh at something silly is the only way to get through it all."
"Hence... the hat?" Starlight observed. "And the general happy-go-lucky act?"
Sunset nodded. "You noticed that, huh? They don't call you Smart Cookie for nothing. And for us earth ponies at least, it works. We get it. But look at these two!" She waved a hoof in the direction of the pegasus and unicorn leaders. "The pegasi are all regimen and discipline, not a funny-bone in their bodies. And the unicorns... don't get me started. They're so uppity they wouldn't laugh or smile unless it was in style this season."
"They do think differently," Starlight allowed. "And... maybe that's a good thing? They see things we don't, do things we can't."
"Yeah." Sunset frowned at her. "While we magic-less earth ponies grub around in the dirt, growing food for them. But... maybe you're right," she added, waving a hoof. "Horses for courses, as they say. I just..." She shrugged. "I just wish they could see it that way. I wish we could all work together, as a team, as equals. Because when we do, when we're all pulling together to raise a barn or build a town --" She stamped a hoof. " Then I can feel proud about that. Really proud. Proud of being Chancellor!"
"No objections from me," Starlight agreed hopefully.
Then Sunset smirked whimsically.
"Plus," she said, winking, "the free cupcakes every meal don't hurt either, do they?"
"Uh... that they don't, Your Chancellor-ness."
At the far end of the cavern, Trixie sat facing the wall, her snout in the air, haughtily silent. Twilight hovered nearby, unsure what to say.
Trixie spoke first. "Well, Clover. Here we are."
"Um. Yes, Your Highness?"
"We trek halfway round the world, and find ourselves right back where we started. With those two underhoof, being difficult and unreasonable. Huh! And here I thought I was being decisive, finally living up to this crown on my head. Sigh... it seems that yet again, the Great and Powerful Princess Platinum is stuck making the same old mistakes."
"I wouldn't say mistakes, Highness --"
"Don't interrupt a good maudlin, Clover."
"Oh. Sorry, Your Highness."
Trixie huffed and went on. "When Bullion stepped aside and granted me the crown, I assumed it was because I was ready. I assumed everything would be different, that it would finally be clear. In becoming Princess, I would at long last become the Great and Powerful leader I'd always dreamed of being, all my life."
She shrugged -- minutely, and with regal grace.
"And then I found I was exactly the same pony, with just as little magic, and even less idea how to lead. And with an entire kingdom looking to me to set the tone."
"Well... you led us here," Twilight offered.
Trixie shook her head. "Only because of you, Clover. You keep advising me to look at things differently, to see from new perspectives. And I'll grant you, most of the time it works. I may treat you like a lowly apprentice at times, like a servant. Yet you really are a quite knowledgeable sorcerer, you know?"
"Um... wizard, Your Highness?"
"Hmm? Ah, yes." Trixie nodded. "Star Swirl's little affectation, my apologies. Though with my limited skill with magic I can scarcely tell the difference. What with ruling the country and managing this crisis, I've never really had the time to develop my powers. Not to the level of a mage such as yourself. Hence, I rely on your magic, Clover, and your insight, and your creativity...
She turned to look at Twilight, looking helpless. "So what, in your opinion," she asked, "ought we to do now?"
Twilight bit her lip. She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to rush ahead, skip to the ending. But that wasn't how this part of the pageant went. The three leaders needed to discover it for themselves, see it for themselves.
"Maybe..." Twilight said cautiously, "maybe we should give the other tribes another chance?"
"Perhaps." Trixie made a face. "Seems there's precious little we can ever do but try, try again, is there? But it will all be worth it, don't you think? If we can live in that wonderful land we saw, ever so briefly?" Then she smiled, shaking her head. "What would I do without you, Clover? I really don't appreciate you half as much as I ought to."
Twilight shrugged. "I'm your royal advisor, Your Highness. It's, well... kinda my job."
"Indeed. And you know, as annoying as it is sometimes, whatever sort of calamity befalls us, and no matter how ill-prepared I find myself in dealing with it..." Trixie smirked. "Somehow, I can always depend on you to find us a way out of it."
"I really hope so, Trixie... er... I mean, Your Highness."
So, everything seemed to be going well.
The three leaders were begrudgingly encouraged to gather closer to the mage-fire, where they sat glaring at each other uncomfortably. And Twilight allowed herself to hope. All they had to do was get through the reconciliation scene Starlight and Sunset had written, with the leaders coming to accord on their own and lighting the fire of friendship by singing carols together. And there'd be no need for anypony to be frozen in ice, which always seemed overly melodramatic and unrealistic. Not to mention seriously life-threatening if you actually stopped to think about it.
"Ahem," said Sunset. "I think that maybe it's time to get serious here. I know, I know, serious isn't usually my thing. But the way the snow's piling up outside... maybe it's time to put aside the funny hat and talk hard facts. About the snow, and the cold, and whether there's something we can do..." She gritted her teeth. "... something we can all do, together... to set things right?"
"Mmmm... I am certainly open," Trixie allowed, "to calm, reasonable discussion. Perhaps if we put our heads together, we can collectively see something we've all missed, hmm?"
The two of them looked at Tempest, who was sitting with her head lowered, eyes shut, snorting crossly.
And then somehow... somehow it all went off the rails.
Tempest looked up, and all but exploded. "Are you two insane?" she shouted. "It's cooperation that got us into this mess in the first place! What, are we pegasi supposed to hand over decision-making to a bunch of half-witted foreign powers? Are we supposed to listen to the advice of so-called ponies --" she sneered, waving an armored hoof in Sunset's direction, "-- who can barely think for themselves? Who abandon their own to fend for themselves in the frozen cold?"
"Uh... what's going on?" Starlight whispered backstage. "This isn't in the script."
"Or the so-called advice," Tempest went on, "of snobbish, self-important aristocrats, who can somehow move the Sun and the Moon, and yet can't be bothered to come up with a rational plan for dealing with a serious change in climate!"
"Humph!" Trixie sniffed. "The weather, as I have said, Commander, is not our fault. And who are you to talk, Commander Hurricane? A hot-tempered dictator? Who seeks only to recover past military glories? Hah! Unicorns would never stoop to threats of violence to achieve our goals."
Tempest's eyes narrowed threateningly. "Don't get me started on you, Your Highness," she snarled. "Bullion we at least understood. He knew how to show strength and be decisive. He had pride and ability! But you? I have never seen such worthless, self-centered incompetence before!"
"Commander!" Trixie drew herself up with brittle pride. "How dare you! Haven't you said enough already?"
"Have I?" Tempest stamped a hoof. "You let your subjects freeze because you're unwilling to admit a mistake! You style yourself a leader, while allowing yourself to be led around by the nose, by so-called advisors who make all the hard choices for you! And as if that isn't proof enough, you let your own daughter be snatched away, right from under your own nose! What kind of leader does things like that?"
"My... daughter?" Trixie looked puzzled. "I... don't have a daughter. Um... yet." She leaned towards Twilight and whispered fiercely. "I'm going to have to have words with the court physicians when we get back. Somepony's been indiscreet!"
"Yes, Your Highness," Twilight mumbled. But she was staring at Tempest, who seemed completely unhinged now.
"And pegasi?" Tempest roared, wild-eyed. "They could have put a stop to the cold, to the snow and ice. They could have stopped everything, before it all went too far. But they didn't! They did nothing. They just stood by and watched!"
"What's she talking about?" Twilight asked.
"Got me." Starlight shrugged. "None of this was in the script, the original or our revision. You know that."
Moondancer had her eyes shut, muttering to herself as if trying to recall something. Then her eyes went wide. "Wait! Platinum did have a daughter -- Palladium! She disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Even today nopony knows why. But that was after the Hearth's Warming miracle, and the unification of the tribes."
"So... where's all this coming from?" Twilight whispered.
Tempest was gasping desperately, nearly in tears, staring in horror at something only she could see.
"They... they let her die... frozen and alone... frozen in ice..."
She fell silent, her voice choked, unable to go on.
"Uhhh..." Sunset pointed a hoof uneasily. "Like the ice that's covering our only way out?"
All the while Tempest had been ranting, the temperature in the cavern had been plummeting. A rime of ice had formed on the walls, had crept around to cover the snow-blocked entrance. Tempest whirled, staring at it, and seemed to come back to herself. Or at least, to her Commander Hurricane persona.
"There's no way out! We're trapped now!"
"Hah!" Trixie sneered. "You two deserve this horrible fate. You've done nothing but argue and fight with each other!"
Tempest whirled to glare at her. "As if you haven't been fighting as well, Your Highness!"
"As I said --" Trixie lofted her snout. "A unicorn never stoops to fighting."
"You've both been fighting," Sunset yelled. "And stubborn, and unreasonable. I'd wash my hooves of both of you, if I had the soap!"
Even as they spoke, the ice had been creeping across the cavern floor as well. It started with their hooves, and crept up them like a living thing, even as their furious breathing created clouds of condensation before their faces. And still they went on furiously arguing.
"You unicorns say you never fight," Tempest yelled at Trixie, "because you know you'd never win!"
"Only a pegasus would think like that. Pegasi are brutes!" Trixie yelled, as the ice steadily encased her.
"Unicorns are snobs!" Sunset added, the ice spreading over her as well.
"Earth ponies are lazy idiots!"
And Twilight, Starlight, and Moondancer huddled together by the pitifully small mage-fire, staring in shocked horror.
"We have to do something," Starlight whispered. "They'll freeze to death!"
"But what?" Moondancer said desperately. "This is how the pageant traditionally goes. Maybe it has to end like this. Maybe we can't change it!"
"Maybe we can't," Twilight admitted. "But maybe, just maybe... they can."
For the three leaders had become aware -- all too aware -- of the ice imprisoning them. And they looked at each other in desperate realization. And then at the three assistants, huddled together by the mage-fire.
"Looks like it's up to you now, Clover," Trixie called bravely. "Don't let the unicorns down. Don't let me down!" she shrieked, as the ice closed over her.
"I'm sorry I brought you into this, Private," Tempest called. "Remember your duty, and the honor of the regiment, and..." She shook her head, as if realizing she was saying the wrong thing. Then she looked Moondancer in the eye. "You're in charge now," she whispered sadly. "Do as you think best..."
And then she said no more, entombed in ice.
"Just don't give away the farmlands," Sunset added to Starlight, as the ice claimed her as well.
The three assistants huddled closer, as the circle of ice closed in on them. It ran over the magefire as if it didn't even exist, snuffing it out.
"It's up to us now, girls," Twilight whispered in the frigid darkness. "Don't forget your lines."
Then she gazed up at the roof of the cavern, at the swirling stormclouds, within which wraith-like shapes pranced, snorting and roaring in triumph as they drew in the last remaining warmth in the chamber.
"They must be... windigos," Twilight said, in character. And felt the pageant take over, almost as if the words themselves needed to be said. "My mentor, Star Swirl, taught me about them. They're winter spirits that feed on fighting and hatred. The more hate the spirit feels, the colder things become."
"Then this is our fault," Starlight said, "We three tribes brought this blizzard to our homes, by fighting instead of working together. Now it's destroying this land, too."
"And now our bodies will become as cold as our hearts," Twilight went on, "all because we were foolish enough to hate..."
"Well," Moondancer said, wincing as she felt the ice reach her hooves. "I don't hate you guys. I've always liked how we get along. How we listen to each other, while the head ponies are fighting all the time."
"That's true," Starlight said. "There's no pressure on us to put up a brave front, or act tough. We can speak our minds."
"Which may be," Twilight noted, "why the leaders have left this in our hooves. To act for them, as we think best." She could feel the ice climbing over her, felt the chill sapping the life from her -- and hoped there would be time enough for them all to finish.
"Well," Moondancer said, "I feel that we should work together. I always have." At her words, they could hear the windigos overhead whinnying nervously.
It's working! Twilight thought frantically, daring to hope. "I feel the same way," she said. "I've always advised the Princess that we're stronger together."
"No matter what our differences," Starlight added, swallowing in fear, "we're all ponies."
And they leant together, as the ice sealed them in.
It was cold, desperately cold. Twilight couldn't even breathe. And then she suddenly felt panicked. The Fire of Friendship, she thought. How do I light it? There was nothing in the script about that. What are we supposed to do?
But even as she thought it, she felt a comforting warmth building up inside her. Inside all three of them, together. It built up, an unstoppable wave of calm and certainty.
It feels just like when we power up the Field of Harmony, Twilight marveled. It's not something we have... or something we do... it's something we are...
... WE ARE FRIENDS.
The power surged through her horn, which was still exposed to the air, and crackled into the air overhead, forming a broad, flickering cloud of deep magenta magic, shaped like a living, beating heart. It blazed with warmth, banishing the windigos, and quickly melting the ice encasing them.
As they were freed from its grip, Twilight and Moondancer and Starlight gazed up at the flickering flame in wonder.
"I didn't know unicorns could do that," Starlight breathed.
"I didn't either," Twilight agreed. "Nothing like this has ever happened before. But I know it couldn't have just been me. It came from all three of us, joined together in friendship."
And the three of them sighed in relief, feeling the pressure of the words, of the spell, gradually releasing them.
"The Fire of Friendship," Starlight marveled, staring at it. "And here I thought it was just a myth, just a special effect of the pageant."
"It is part of the pageant," Moondancer said. "It's just that the pageant isn't only a pageant."
"It's a spell," Twilight confirmed. "A spell based on harmony, on friendship. And as long as the fire of friendship lives in our hearts, it'll never die, and we cannot drift apart..."
"Sounds familiar..." Starlight said with a smile. "Like a winter carol, maybe?"
"Do we need to sing them now?" Moondancer asked anxiously. "Is that part of the pageant too?"
"Let's... get our friends free of the ice first," Twilight suggested. "It's safer. And we'll have more voices that way."
"All through the night," Spike was saying onstage, "the three assistants kept the fire of friendship alive by telling stories to one another and singing songs, which of course became the winter carols that we all still sing today. Eventually, the warmth of the fire and singing and laughing reached the leaders, and their bodies began to thaw. And their hearts as well."
"I still say a good cup o' Joe will do that for ya," Grubber put in. "But what do I know?"
"The three leaders," Spike continued, "agreed to share the beautiful land, and live in harmony ever after. And together, they named this new land..."
He and the other performers drew breath to call out the final word of the pageant. And then they were drowned out as the entire Royal Performance hall rang with the exhilarated cheer from the audience:
EQUESTRIA!
There was deafening applause, hooves clapping and stamping excitedly. Then the audience joined with the cast for the traditional closing carol:
The fire of friendship lives in our hearts.
As long as it burns, we cannot drift apart.
Though quarrels arise,
Their numbers are few,
Laughter and singing will see us through.
We are a circle of pony friends.
A circle of friends we'll be
To the very end!
There were several curtain calls, but finally the curtains swung closed, concluding the pageant.
And Twilight and the others sat staring at each other in wordless amazement, surrounded by the backdrops and props of the final flag-raising scene, as Spike and Grubber came through the curtains to join them.
"How much of that... actually happened?" Starlight asked.
"Oh, did something happen?" Spike asked. "We were facing the audience the whole time. We didn't see."
"We'll... explain later," Twilight told him. "Once we've figured it out ourselves."
"I always say," Trixie remarked, "a good trick practically works itself, but this... this went above and beyond!"
"No kidding." Moondancer grinned. "If I'd known the pageant was going to be this exciting, I'd never have been worried. I didn't feel stage-fright at all, the whole time."
"Total mortal panic does have a way of drowning out lesser fears," Sunset noted. "But you did great, Moon-Moon. Good job!"
"To all of us," Twilight said, smiling. "I'm proud of all of you."
"As are we," said a regal voice behind her.
Twilight and the others turned to see Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Cadance striding through the backstage curtains.
"Princesses!" Twilight winced nervously, as the entire group bowed in respect. "What did you all think? We're sorry if things got a little out of hoof. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but..."
Celestia put up a golden-shod hoof for silence. "I did sense," she said, "that something unusual was going on during the performance, though I cannot say for certain what it was. But I am proud of the way you dealt with it, all of you. Perhaps, Twilight, you and your team might investigate further, then compose one of your usually thorough reports on the subject? I would very much like to hear your opinions, unbiased by anything I might suggest."
"Yes, Princess," Twilight agreed readily.
"Princess Luna?" Trixie asked uneasily. "What did you think?"
Luna looked surprised. "Oh! Pardon my silence, Lady Trixie. I was merely seeking the right words to express how wonderful I thought it all was. I don't think the pageant could have improved upon, honestly!"
Twilight stared at her, amazed. "Really? But..."
"You must understand," Luna went on, "Sister and I, well, we knew many of these ponies personally. And this... it was like seeing them all brought to life! It was amazing! Truly, Sister," she added to Celestia, "you did not make clear how enjoyable an occasion this pageant was. I assumed it would be merely some boring old holiday standard, which would have me seeking death's embrace before the intermission. But this -- this was an event! I can hardly wait for next year, to see it all again!"
"She's not the only one, Twilight." Princess Cadance added, smiling. "The audience loved it, too. They loved all the little tweaks you made to things. Spike and Grubber's banter with each other was hysterical. I hear the coffee shops are already doing a land-office business. They especially liked the way you made each of the tribe leaders a real character, with honest opinions, rooted in history rather than just tired old stereotypes."
"Well..." Twilight said, "I'm only glad they don't think we spoiled it, by making it too true-to-life."
"Far from it," Celesta assured her. "From what I hear, the Thespian Society were taking notes throughout. And they're already talking about making your version of the play the official one from now on. That is, if they can get a copy of the final script to work from."
"Uhhh... I'll gather my notes, Highness," Moondancer offered, "and send them an annotated version."
"That would be splendid," Celestia agreed. "And let me thank all of you for an excellent presentation. I was sure you would do us proud, and show the audience what it means to be true friends. And in this, I was not mistaken."
Then the three Princesses bowed their heads silently, in gratitude. And Twilight and her friends looked at each other in weary relief, while at the same time trying not to ask the million questions that were on their minds...
Much later, after the cast party, and the autograph signing and photographs, the group trotted along Diamond Avenue, past the warmly-lit shop-fronts and holiday lighting, and past groups of ponies who were toasting each other's health with hot cups of coffee, in what appeared to be a newly-minted holiday tradition.
"So," Starlight asked, "are we gonna talk about this? What did happen on that stage, during the play? Did we go back in time? Were we in some kind of alternate reality?"
"I wonder," Sunset said, "if it had something to do with us being the modern-day Elements of Harmony? Like, maybe the same magic that powers the Field of Harmony was awakened somehow by the need to work together on the pageant, and it super-charged the pageant spell itself?"
"Both spells are powered by friendship," Starlight agreed. "Same magic, different spells. It could happen."
"Or maybe," Moondancer offered, a little reminiscently, "it was just a really old, old story. And we all just got caught up in it."
"I do love a good book," Twilight agreed with a grin.
"But if this should happen again," Trixie grumbled, "a little warning might be nice? Half the time I don't even think it was me talking, just the darned script. And after all that rehearsal! Not sure why I bothered now."
"You did fine, Your Grace," Starlight told her. "And the play was a total success. It's all everypony can talk about. Do you think they'll want us to do the pageant again next year, Twilight?"
"I... think we'll leave it to the Thespian Society," said Twilight. "See what they do with our version of it."
Moondancer sighed. "I'm just glad they liked all our changes. All that research on the history and events behind the pageant, it really paid off. And you were great, Tempest! I loved the way you threw in all those ad-libbed historical references. Most of the time you had me looking stuff up."
"Hmph." Tempest was looking dour and unsettled. "I think from now on," she muttered, "I'll stick to reading my lines off cue-cards. This Method acting, it dredges up too many bad feelings, too many bad memories. Stuff that's better off forgotten." She looked around at the others, embarrassed. "I'm... sorry if I got a little carried away, there."
"Not to worry." Twilight smiled up at her. "We understand."
"You gave it your all," Trixie agreed loftily. "Nopony in the world could fault you for that."
"And after all," Moondancer said, "we're all friends here. Right?"
The others nodded agreeably. "Mm hmm... you said it... absolutely!"
Tempest smiled minutely in return. And then finally began holding her head high and proud again, like usual.
"I just wonder," Moondancer went on, "where all that historical detail came from, while we were caught up in things. I mean, there was stuff that's never been written down. And it was so true-to-life! It's like we were reliving somepony's memories, almost."
Twilight shrugged.
"Maybe it was just another Hearth's Warming miracle," she observed. "And we'll never know exactly why it happened."
And that seemed answer enough, at least for the moment.
The group continued along the avenue, chatting amongst themselves. And then, for no particular reason, they burst into a rousing chorus of Hearth's Warming Eve together, singing at the top of their lungs, in utter relief that the pageant was over and done with, and they had nothing ahead but the holiday itself to look forward to.
So none of them noticed the double-lightning-bolt mark on Tempest's mage-armor. Noticed it glowing a brilliant, icy-cold blue, as if awakened from a long slumber...
As if reminded of something...
Your Team is Cordially Invited...
In the top room of the snow-frosted Advanced Projects tower, adjoining the Library Annex building in Canterlot, the five other unicorns in the AP group were worried as they gathered around the main worktable for breakfast. Not worried in a bad sense really, just a little uncertain what was up. They could tell Twilight Sparkle was forcing herself not to grin ear-to-ear. It was written all over the lavender unicorn's face.
Everypony tried to act natural as they sat down at the table, and hoofed round the waffles and syrup. Then the ponies looked at each other. And Starlight Glimmer finally broke the ice.
"Whaaattt...?" she asked, smiling across the table at Twilight.
Twilight proudly held up a message scroll she'd been reading. "This just came. It's from Princess Celestia! And she's requested the six of us put on the most important play of the holiday season: the Hearth's Warming Eve pageant."
"Seriously, Twilight?" Sunset Shimmer stared. "That's great! You gals know how big a deal this is, even for a group like ours? It's like, the highlight of the festivities in the Royal City."
"Oh yeah, tell me about it." Starlight nodded. "We have our own pageant in Sire's Hollow, same as every other city and town. But from what I hear none of them can compare with the Canterlot production. Princess Celestia pulls out all the stops for it. And ponies travel from all over Equestria just to be here for it."
"Uhh... I don't know." Moondancer looked queasy. "I'd be nervous, getting up on stage in front of a crowd that size..."
"C'mon, Moon-Moon," Sunset chided. "It'll be fun! And we'll all be in it together. A team, just like we always are. We'll back each other up."
"I guess so, but..."
"The Great and Upwardly-Mobile Lady Trixie Luna Moon --" Here it was unclear which Trixie was flaunting more, the new title granted her by Princess Luna, or the embroidered silk magician's cape she'd bought to go with it. "-- will be honored to present her awesome performance skills at such a prestigious occasion." Then Trixie giggled. "Seriously? An audience that size? You couldn't keep Trixie away with a stick!"
"Just as long as you remember," Sunset warned, "it's a re-enactment of Equestrian history. It's not the Trixie Luna Moon Show."
"Well, it ought to be," Trixie huffed. "On any stage, there's just one star performer. And that's moi!"
"Simmer down, Your Grace." Starlight nudged her. "And let Twilight tell it. Like I know she's itching to."
Twilight beamed. "I'm just so excited! It's a chance for us to do something really fun together. While at the same time, fulfilling our roles as the Heroes of Equestria, representing all the pony tribes."
"Yeah, I was gonna ask about that," said Moondancer. "The Princess does remember we're all unicorns, right? Isn't that going to be a little strange, us playing roles normally filled by earth ponies and pegasi?"
Twilight nodded and held up the scroll. "Celestia thought of that as well. And she says here, ahem: I feel comfortable the six of you will be able to reflect the true spirit of the season, and demonstrate that Equestria's heroes represent the interests and concerns of all the pony tribes."
"Well, hey, I'm in!" said Starlight. "It sounds a blast, no matter which tribe I end up representing."
"Count me in too," agreed Sunset. Even Moondancer nodded gamely.
"What about you, Tempest?" Twilight asked her. "You haven't said anything yet."
Tempest Shadow raised an eyebrow. "If we're doing this, Twilight, I'm in. You know that. But somepony's going to have to fill me in on the backstory here. Growing up, I didn't have a lot of time for pageants, of any sort."
"Yeah," Grubber added. "The boss didn't really go in for all that jingle-jangle stuff much." Then he quickly shut up as an iron-armored hoof pressed firmly and painfully on his foot.
"It's a reenactment," said Moondancer, in her classroom-recitation voice, "of the legend of the Hearth's Warming miracle. Which convinced the original three Kingdoms to put aside their differences and come together as a united Equestria, living in peaceful harmony under the rule of the alicorn Princesses, Celestia and Luna."
"But," Sunset added, "it's also a beloved holiday tradition. And there aren't that many things you can honestly call 'beloved' with a straight face anymore. When I was a filly, my parents would take me to see the Canterlot pageant every year. And I loved all the characters, and the costumes, and the effects, and -- oh my gosh! If I hadn't been so set on being Princess Celestia's star pupil, I might have gone on stage myself, just from watching this thing."
"Well, Sunset," Trixie sneered, "sounds like there might just be hope for you after all."
Sunset ignored her. "I call earth ponies! In particular I want to play Chancellor Puddinghead. She was my favorite. She gets to spout a bunch of completely ahistorical nonsense, and do pratfalls, and basically keeps the audience in stitches. They say a good Puddinghead can save any performance of the pageant. I'd love the chance to do that."
"Really?" Moondancer resettled her glasses and stared at her. "You wouldn't mind ponies laughing at you?"
"Are you kidding me? Nopony takes Puddinghead seriously! It's all part of the show. She lampoons thickheaded officialness and insolence of office. It's what her character's all about. And," she added, throwing a hoof around Moondancer's shoulders, "who better to play Smart Cookie, Puddinghead's secretary and right-hoof pony, than our very own Moondancer here?"
"Are you sure?" Moondancer asked. "What if I screw up, or forget my lines, or freeze up, or --?"
"You'll do fine, Moon-Moon! You never have any problem memorizing stuff. And if you do flub a line, it's no big deal. I'll be on stage with you the whole time. I'll just pull one of Puddinghead's signature gags and have everypony laughing. Nopony will notice. After all, everypony's there just to have a good time and celebrate the holiday, right?"
"Well, okay. Plus, I can do some research on earth-pony history, so we'll be able to present their culture with authenticity."
"That's the spirit!" Sunset elbowed her shoulder. "Spoken like a natural Smart Cookie."
Moondancer winced, and managed a small smile.
Tempest by contrast was looking dour. "I hope," she said dryly, "I won't be expected to play Princess Platinum, or anything like that."
"Actually," Twilight said, "I thought you'd be perfect as Commander Hurricane, leader of the pegasi. After all, the pegasi of that era were highly regimented and militaristic."
"Hmm." Tempest nodded. "That does sound more my speed." She came to attention and rapped the chestplate of her mage-armor with a hoof. "We who are about to die, salute you! Return with your shield or on it!" She smirked. "Or something like that, right?"
"We'll... work on that," Twilight allowed.
"Huh!" Trixie pouted. "And I suppose Acting Princess Twilight gets to play Princess Platinum herself?"
"Actually, Trixie," Twilight said, "I thought you might be best for that. Being our newest member of the gentry and all."
"Oo-oooh!" Trixie brightened up immediately. "Well, of course! The Great and Powerful Lady Trixie shall present a dazzling Princess of the Unicorns!"
Twilight forced back a laugh. "I've always preferred Clover the Clever myself. It's said Clover was so diligent and creative a mage, he basically made Star Swirl's reputation! But of course, that's ridiculous," she added quickly. "Everypony knows Star Swirl was a genius all on his own."
Moondancer looked like she was about to say something, then thought twice of it and kept her mouth shut.
But then Twilight sighed. "Thinking about it though, I realized it would make more sense for Starlight to play Clover. After all, Starlight, you're my Minister of Magic. So you'd be perfect for it."
"Well sure! I'd be honored." Starlight nodded. "I've always liked Clover in the pageant anyways. He puts up with so much, and then his magic basically saves the day at the end."
"It was a toss-up," Twilight agreed, "between you and Moondancer for who'd play Clover."
Moondancer shrugged. "Works for me. I mean if it's researching spells then I'm your pony, no question. But casting them? Starlight's way better at that than I am."
"The Great and Highly-Respected Princess Platinum approves!" Trixie grabbed Starlight in a tight hug with a hoof. "After all, her Regal Highness simply cannot be without her right-hoof mage and helper-pony. We'll knock 'em dead, bestie!"
"Only if I can still breathe..." gasped Starlight, then smiled as Trixie relaxed her grip.
"But Twilight," Tempest said, "doesn't that leave you with..."
Twilight nodded. "Private Pansy of the pegasi." She shrugged resignedly. "It's okay. I'll be so busy organizing and managing this thing, it'll be good for me to have a lighter role to play."
"Well," Tempest said, "as long as you're okay with that."
"It's... okay, I suppose... I mean... I guess..."
Tempest's armored hoof smacked the table.
"Is that backsliding I hear?" she growled, her snout inches from Twilight's. "Get a hold of yourself, Private! Or I'll have you court-martialed for insubordination! Drop and give me twenty!"
Then Tempest smirked. "What, too much?"
Twilight was staring at her, slack-jawed. "You might be better at this than I thought." Recovering, she shook her head. "And I figured Spike and Grubber might together take on the role of the Narrator of the Legend."
"But Twilight," Spike said, "isn't the Narrator usually one character?"
"Usually. But I figured we'd divide up the narration between the two of you. Or have you play it straight, with Grubber acting as a comic foil."
Tempest eyed the hedgehog doubtfully. "That sounds about right for him."
"Eh." Grubber shrugged willingly. "I'm a hench-hog. Just tell me where to stand and what to say and I'm in, gals."
"Great," Twilight said. "So I think that settles who's playing whom. Now we just need to find out where and when, and..."
As she unrolled the scroll further, an enclosed note fell out of it. Spike snatched the scrap of parchment before it could hit the floor and passed it it her. Twilight took it with her magic and read it over quickly.
And looked uncomfortable.
"Oooh... sorry, girls. I completely missed this before. It looks like the Princess had some suggestions for which of us might be right for which roles. She must not have wanted this in the text of the official request."
"And, by suggestions," Sunset observed, "we mean royal commands?"
"Not necessarily..." Twilight read from the note. "My Dear Twilight: while I would never second-guess your own choices for the roles for this play, if you happen to need some advice..."
Twilight looked up from the note. "Celestia did mention she was hoping to persuade Luna to attend, as part of Luna's efforts to reintegrate in modern pony society. So I think we should try to accommodate any suggestions she has."
"Okay, then," Starlight said. "Who does she suggest?"
"Hmm..." Twilight scanned the note quickly. "Some of these are the same as what we came up with. Like Sunset as Puddinghead, and Tempest as Commander Hurricane. And what do you know, Lady Trixie as Princess Platinum!"
"Her Majestic Solar Highness has excellent taste and decision-making skills. Trixie has always thought so."
"As for the rest..." Twilight looked up from the list. "Sorry, Starlight, it looks like the Princess feels you might be a better choice as Smart Cookie."
"Oh! Well, that's okay. Like I said, I'm happy with anything."
"Huh! I take it all back." Trixie crossed her forehooves. "Her Royal Highness wouldn't know casting if she was flank-deep in a trout stream."
"And Moondancer," Twilight went on, "she thinks you might be best for the role of Private Pansy."
"Really? Oh..." Moondancer looked worriedly across at Tempest. "I guess that's okay. It means fewer lines to learn, right?"
"And me..." Twilight looked troubled. "She thinks I should play Clover the Clever."
"That's good, isn't it?" Starlight said. "You did say you'd prefer to be Clover."
"Yeah. It's just..." Twilight eyed Trixie doubtfully. Then she shook her head. "Whatever, we can make it work. Somehow."
"Absolutely," Sunset agreed. "We're a team, no matter which roles we have. We'll get it done together."
"Uh, sure..." Moondancer looked doubtful. "I suppose I should switch my research to the pegasi? Study their history instead? Or maybe I'll just do a survey of all three tribes, come up with useful cultural notes for all of us. Things to keep in mind as we rehearse."
"Sounds like a plan," Sunset agreed.
Starlight nodded. "And I can work on a glamour spell. To allow us to look like earth-ponies or pegasi as needed, while we're on stage. Or should we use practical costumes? I wouldn't want the other tribes accusing us of cultural appropriation, or horn-washing, or the like."
"It should be okay," Twilight said. "They know who we are. And it's important for us to properly represent the characters we're portraying."
"Her Grace the Lady Trixie will be pleased to offer guidance on stage presence and projection. Plus critique of costuming. We must look and sound our best for a performance of this magnitude."
"Uhh, thanks Trixie..." Twilight said. "And Tempest --"
"Don't worry, Twilight," Tempest muttered, frowning in Trixie's direction. "You can count on me." Then she eyed Moondancer unreadably. "Just give me my lines and I'll learn them. And give Grubber his too, and I'll make sure he learns them."
"Heh! That's for sure," Grubber added with a grin. "The boss knows how to motivate learning."
"Uhh..." Moondancer looked ill. "That's good to know."
"O...kay then," Twilight said uncomfortably. "Let me just read through the rest of this, and then I'll look into booking the Royal Audience Hall for some practice run-throughs. And Spike, we should send a note to Cheese Sandwich, see if he's available to manage the stage and props for us. I know he'd do a great job. And then there's getting copies of the scripts, and arranging for an orchestra, and oh my gosh..."
With her magic, Twilight snatched the quill Spike had already picked up to take notes, and began hastily scribbling a checklist of reminders on the scroll, muttering to herself under her breath.
The rest of the group looked at each other uneasily. Somehow, the entire venture was feeling a little less exciting than before. Something felt off, definitely.
But nopony spoke up. As Twilight had said, they could make it work. Somehow...
