Letheby LunasCaptainChaptersPrologueOneTwoPrologueIt wasn't normal for ponies to live so close to the nesting grounds of dragons, but in the case of the two mares who settled near the Onyx Clan, no one contradicted them. The dragons didn't know much about ponies or their culture. They assumed that the older of the two, who appeared to be an adult in her prime, was the mother, and the other (nearly a third her size) was the daughter. Or maybe they were sisters. It made no impression that the mare was an ashy purple, with the silky mane and tail and cornered eyes of eastern Equestria, and the filly was orange with hair that looked like windblown feathers. It was the same with the fact that the mare had a single horn while the filly had wings. They were both ponies, and they lived together, so they had to be related. The Onyx Clan was small and isolated. There were only fifty adults and thirteen adolescents, with a fluctuating number of children running around underclaw. No other dragon clans nested within a hundred miles of them. And maybe that was why they accepted the ponies living within sight of them without question. Old Snap was the patriarch of the Clan. Hatchlings and mated adults alike came to him with their problems, and if they faced attack or starvation, he was expected to lead. He was ancient even by the standards of his kind, the sails of his wings cracking like untreated leather and most of his fangs little more than stumps. But his eyes were bright. His mate was long-dead, the Clan was a peaceful community and so rarely needed him, and they hadn't migrated for years, so Snap often had to find rather unconventional ways to amuse himself. His favorite, currently, was reading. He had accumulated an impressive amount of books over his lifetime, and one of the best ways (in his opinion) to spend an afternoon was leafing through one of them. Until, that is, the ponies came. They interested him. And at Snap's age, that didn't happen very often. He started watching them from the ledge outside of his cave right after they arrived with nothing but their saddlebags and the strange symbols that they both wore around their necks. Unlike the rest of the Clan, he didn't believe they were related by blood (they were far too different for that), but he could see that there was something strong between them. It was evident in the way that the mare magically sent rocks whizzing through the air for the filly's amusement, the quick nuzzles that they frequently shared, the tail that the mare would toss over the filly's back when they were heading home. Protective and comforting like a teenage dragon throwing a wing around his female's shoulders. They lived in a small cleft in a massive rock and spent most of the day looking for edible plants. If the mare tried to leave without the filly, she was stopped instantly by nervous squalling. Alternately, she yelled at the little one if she strayed too far. But she didn't seem to need the filly as much as the filly needed her. They were happy here, but afraid of something. Probably whatever they had left behind when they came. The filly had carried some sort of wheeled contraption here, all folded up and crammed into one of her saddlebags. The ground was too rocky and rough for her to make much use it. But she took it out every day and tried to make it go, tiny wings buzzing like those of an insect. She couldn't fly, even though her mare was skilled at lifting things with her magic. It was her that Snap was interested in. The older one, the purple one. She was a reader, just like him. Her saddlebags were full of books and she spent at least an hour a day reading. He wanted to talk to her, because even though he hadn't had many (or any) dealings with her kind before, she was the first literate creature he had seen in almost two hundred years. But he waited. He watched her and her little one talk quietly in the evening and forage in the morning. He watched the mare clumsily weave a small blanket out of inedible grass and present it to the filly on what must have been her birthday. He saw their wide eyes and their dependency on each other and the way their flanks steadily sank as winter drew closer. And finally, on the day of the first frost, Old Snap saw the mare reading a book that she had already finished. She was out. He wrote a note on a piece of parchment. The letters were minuscule, but he had no trouble with it. One of the hatchlings (his great-grandson, actually) delivered it to the ponies' home while they were out, and the next morning, both were making their way up the switchback path that led to his cave. The mare walked right in when she arrived, meeting his gaze coolly. "You're not afraid," Snap noted. For some reason, that pleased him. "No," she said evenly. "Not of dragons." They wintered in his cave, eating the mosses and mushrooms that grew in the wetter passages. The wheels of the filly's contraption worked beautifully on the smooth floor, which delighted her to no end. The mare almost fainted when she saw Snap's 'library'. They spent hours next to his stacks of books, discussing magic theory and dragon history. A few of the smaller dragons made the hike during the cold months, curious about 'Grampa's ponies'. The filly was ecstatic and constructed adventures with them in the back caverns, even letting them try out her wheel thing--kids were kids no matter the species, he supposed. The mare was good with them, compassionate yet firm. Like a combination of schoolteacher and mother. But Snap often saw tears in her eyes after their visits. The filly took to calling him Grampa near the thaw and the mare once leaned her head affectionately against his leg. He told them often enough that they were welcome and he enjoyed their company, and steadily that became code for "I love you." He never learned their names or gave them his, and maybe it was better that way. "So am I right to assume you were running from something when you came here?" It was early, both in spring and in the morning. Snow still covered most of the Onyx Clan's territory, but the ledge outside Snap's cave was bare. That was where he and the mare were crouched, while the filly slept in the cave behind them. She was silent for a very long time, watching the sun rise. When she spoke her voice was even. "Yes," she said. "Yeah. We came here to get away." He didn't ask her what they had been trying to get away from, and she didn't tell him. They wouldn't broach the subject again until midsummer, right after the mare gave herself and the filly manecuts because their tails were dragging the floor. But during now and then, Snap learned plenty. For example, why she was taking care of a filly who so obviously wasn't related to her. "I made a promise to a friend." What the symbol around her neck was. "It's the cutie mark of Celestia. The sun goddess." The name of the filly's wheeled toy. "That's a scooter." And he relayed these things to the little dragons the next time they came to play with the filly and listen to the mare talk about the history of their race. Predictably, they didn't care. They were far more interested in the ponies themselves than their grandfather's crazy ramblings about them. Not that that was a bad thing--the filly's shrieking laughter could be heard from the back caves, and the mare's face positively lit up when she saw them coming. But after the hatchlings left, he found her in the 'library', swiping angrily at her eyes with one hoof. "What is it about them?" Snap asked quietly. "They--" She stopped, gulped in air. "I--he--oh, Celestia." She buried her face in her hooves. Old Snap waited. Finally, the mare raised her head. "I lived w-with a dragon hatchling for a long time," she said shakily. "I raised him. He was...like a little brother to me, like a son. He was my assistant. My number-one assistant." She smiled weakly, staring off into space. Snap was honestly surprised. The idea of a pony raising a dragon was incredibly strange to him; he had never heard of anything like it. Though he supposed that his own relationship with the orange filly was just as odd. "What happened to him? Why isn't he here with you?" he asked gently. He expected to be told that the lad had grown wings and left, off to find himself a female and found a clan. It was sad, but a common occurrence among dragon families. Only a quarter of Snap's own offspring had remained within Onyx. "He's dead," the mare said dully. "Oh...oh, little one." Snap put one cracked-leather wing around her and drew her close. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know." "It's okay." She twisted her head, stared into his stern amber eyes with her wide violet ones. "I...it's just...he's not really..." "Not really what?" Snap tightened his grip on her, offering comfort with his innate heat. He sensed that he was about to find out the reason for her presence here. "N-not...really...dead." Snap was silent for a long time. Then he shifted his wing slightly, into a more protective position, and spoke. "Oh, little one," he said softly. The mare began to cry, and she told him everything. One night in late fall, almost a year after the ponies had come to the Onyx Clan, the filly screamed in her sleep. It wasn't the first time it had happened. But it was the first in a long, long time. By the time Snap got to her bedside, she had stopped shrieking names that meant nothing to him ("Applebloom! Sweetie Belle! Rainbow Dash!") and the mare was already there. Stroking her feathery forelock with a calm, resolved expression on her face. "We're leaving soon," she whispered without looking at Snap. "She and I. We have to go back, and set things right. I have to finish what I started." He could have argued with her. He could have begged her. He could have told her to go, but leave the filly here, with him. Where she'd be safe. "I hope you're successful," he said instead. "For all our sakes." She smiled. Her muzzle was wet with tears. "I love you," he added. "I know." The next morning, they left. Dragons were a faithless people, but Old Snap prayed for them all the same. One"A Changeling attack on your brother's wedding day? Forgive me, Twilight, I don't know what to say." "It all turned out alright in the end," Twilight replied, raising a bowl of tea to her lips and sipping. "You are here, so it must be true. And I have heard it from others, too," Zecora acknowledged. "Rainbow Dash came by to tell of a battle straight from hell." "Well, it wasn't that bad..." "That is what Pinkie said," she answered, "despite the bandage 'round her head." "Oh. That was from something else." Twilight laughed. "None of us were seriously hurt in the attack, and I guess we should be thankful for that. A lot of ponies weren't so lucky." It had been almost two months since the incident in Canterlot. For Twilight Sparkle and her friends, life had finally returned to some semblance of normality. No rogue Changelings had popped up wanting revenge, everypony had stopped wanting to hear the story again and again, and Cadance and Shining Armor had settled nicely into married life. Twilight had made the trek out to Zecora's home to get some books for independent study (the zebra's library, though meager, was full of exotic books), but had learned that she had never actually heard the entire Changeling story. So what should have been a quick trip had turned into a lengthy social visit. Not that Twilight minded. Zecora made some truly fantastic tea. "From what I heard, you were on the front lines," Zecora said, getting to her hooves to stir the contents of the small cauldron hanging over the fire. "A spirit of luck must be on your side. To not be hurt in such a fierce war--I've never heard of this before." "I wouldn't call it a war, the real battle didn't even last an hour," Twilight pointed out. She ignited her horn and raised her bowl to her muzzle again. "Ah, yes, but it was Changelings you fought," Zecora countered. "And you fired more than a single shot. You were strong and brave and true; in my land, we'd make a warrior out of you." Twilight blushed and looked away. "Well--" "You should not fear praise, my dear Twilight," Zecora said gently. "But this discussion must end, for it shall soon be night." "What? Oh!" Twilight glanced out the window, then leaped to her hooves, nearly knocking her bowl of tea over in the process. It looked like Celestia was lowering the sun. The sight of it sinking below the false horizon created by the trees unnerved her greatly--she didn't want to have to find her way out of the Everfree in the dark. She slung her empty saddlebags onto her back, completely forgetting why she'd come. She had to get home in time to write the outline for this week's letter to the princess, and Spike had to be given a bath (which was an ordeal inof itself), and-- "Twilight! Twilight, wait!" Taking her hoof off of the door, Twilight turned around to see Zecora trotting toward her with a stack of books on her back. "Aren't you forgetting why you came?" She smiled sheepishly. "Oh...right. Thanks, Zecora." "I'm always happy to lend to you." The zebra turned so that Twilight could see the titles of the books before dumping them into her saddlebags. "These are the books you wanted, true?" "Yeah--they are, How did you know?" "There are some secrets I must keep." Zecora winked. "You'd best get home and get to sleep. There's something about the forest tonight--something I'm not sure I like." The sudden transition from joking to warning sent a chill up Twilight's spine. She hid it with a bright smile. "Well, thanks for the tea, Zecora--and the books. I'll bring them back when I'm done." The zebra shooed her out the door, murmuring goodbyes and other pleasantries. She watched Twilight trot off through the darkening Everfree. The sun had vanished completely by the time Twilight reached Ponyville. The moon wasn't up yet, though--Luna was still painting her sky, the first stars bright enough to promise a masterpiece. Most denizens of the town had already gone inside for the night. Golden light spilled out of their windows, illuminating the few ponies still up and about. There was Derpy, delivering the last few letters of the day. Rose was watering the flowers in front of the shop that she tended with Daisy and Lily. Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon, her housemate (Twilight assumed--she didn't know them well enough to judge their relationship), were chatting quietly on a bench. She smiled at them as she passed. Predictably, the library was lit up like a birthday cake for Princess Celestia, and Spike was waiting with Owloysius. She mentally sighed. "I'm sorry, Spike, the time got away from me..." Twilight apologized, levitating her heavy saddlebags off of her back. "Twilight, you said that you'd be home three hours ago," Spike said, following her after she had dumped the bags on the floor. Owloysius, satisfied that she was home safe, hooted and flew up to his perch. "I know, Spike, but Zecora and I just got...carried away." She twitched her withers in an approximation of a shrug. "But ti's not like--" "The mayor came by and wanted to see you." "Really?" Twilight stopped and turned around. "What did she want?" "The legal stuff for the land surrounding Ponyville," Spike replied. "Well...I think that most of it belongs to the Apple family." She tapped her chin with one forehoof, sitting down and stifling a yawn. "But why did the mayor want to know?" "I don't know. Something about somepony moving into that old castle in the Everfree?" "What?" Instinctively, Twilight shot a look in the direction of the ancient Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, though her view was blocked by the walls of the library. "That's where you guys fought Nightmare Moon, right?" Spike asked, heading up the stairs. He seemed to have forgotten about being mad at her for being so late. "Yeah." Twilight stood and followed him. "I can't imagine anypony wanting to live there. The place is practically falling down, and besides, it's creepy." "Maybe, but look!" Spike clambered up onto her bed and pointed out the window, glancing back to make sure she had heard him. Hopping up to crouch beside him, she peered through the thin glass. A light was shining somewhere in the Everfree. It was a dark red--had to be unicorn magic. "D'you think that whoever it was already moved into the castle?" Spike asked, glancing at her. Twilight frowned. "No...the light's a little too far to the right. Maybe they're camping near it until they can move in?" His eyes narrowed, but his expression quickly cleared when he yawned. "Well, I'd better get to bed." "Alright." As Spike hopped down into his own bed, Twilight's horn glowed briefly. All the candles in the library snuffed out at once. Before crawling under her astronomy-print comforter, she looked at the light in the forest for a little while longer. She'd never seen magic that color before. A/N: Just a quick request--would it kill you to tell me why you want to click the thumbs-down button? I don't mind being thumbed down, but I'd really like to know the reason so I can improve. Thank you. Two"Y'all'd better git them apples over to Sugarcube Corner right quick, Big Mac. Mrs. Cake says they got somethin' big planned." "Eeyup." Big McIntosh leaned forward, the wood of a yoke that had long since worn smooth rubbing against his fur. The wheels of the old cart creaked and turned. It was packed full of barrels of apples, each carrying a different kind. They weren't quite ready, in Big Mac's opinion. Could have done with another week or so of ripening. But the Cakes had placed an order and Applejack had deemed the fruit from the west fields good enough for baking. Without consulting him first, of course, but he had gotten used to that. "Big Mac! Big Mac, wait up!" Obligingly, he stopped. Little Applebloom and her friends scampered up beside him. She had a bucket on her head with a couple of blue feathers tied to it (maybe in an approximation of a royal guard's helmet), and the other two were carrying sticks in their mouths. Big Mac struggled to keep a straight face. He had observed enough of his younger sister's misadventures to know that there was no way this could end well. "Are ya goin' into town?" Applebloom asked with a wide smile. "Eeyup," he replied. "We'a rodeck ya!" Scootaloo exclaimed around her stick. "Beg pardon?" "We'll protect ya," Applebloom translated while her friends swung their sticks in fierce arcs. "We're gonna be Cutie Mark Crusaders royal guards!" "Ya cah be Prih-seh Celehtia," Scootaloo chimed in. "We'ah prackissin'!" "Eeyup," Big Mac nodded in observation of that fact. "Well then, ya'll'd better climb on up." He glanced at the cart. "Ah guess there ain't no harm in it." "Thank ya, big brother!" Applebloom said brightly. "Now, c'mon, mares! Let's git! The princess has to be in Ponyville for the Summer Sun Celebration soon!" "Yeh suh, cappen Apple-loom!" He leaned forward again, settled into the steady rhythm of a cart and its puller. He could hear the fillies in the back, wriggling around between the apple barrels. That couldn't be safe, with those sharp sticks in their-- "Ow! Sweetie Belle, ya poked me!" "Sah-ee!" "Sorry don't cut it, soldier! Ah want ya to get out and walk!" "'Ut Apple-loom--" "Ah said git out!" The sounds of a minor scuffle, probably not meant to be serious, came from behind Big Mac. His ears lowered in concern, but he didn't stop and turn around until something thumped against the road and Sweetie Belle started wailing. "Ow! Ow, why did you do that?! My mouth--" "Ah'm sorry!" Applebloom cried. "I fergot that--" "Git up here, lemme have a look at it," Big Mac called with a deep internal sigh. Why did such bad things happen whenever he was around foals? Sweetie Belle trotted up and warily opened her mouth. He peered inside. There was a small cut on her palate, barely a nick, that had already stopped bleeding. She said something without closing her mouth, eyes darting nervously around. He thought that it might be "It's really bad, isn't it?" "Uhhnope." He motioned for her to close her mouth. "Should be fine." She did so, looking scandalized. "Are you sure it's alright? It really hurts!" "Stop being a foal, Sweetie!" Scootaloo called. "I'm not! It--" "Lissen, fillies, Ah hate to interrupt, but Ah really gotta git these apples into town..." Big Mac interrupted. "Just get back in the cart, Sweetie Belle!" Scootaloo yelled. The small unicorn did so, muttering something under her breath. Big Mac pulled. For the third time, the cart lurched into motion. Maybe this time he might actually be able to make it to Sugarcube Corner. He reached the bridge that led into Ponyville in just under fifteen minutes. The fillies in the back squabbled near constantly, hitting each other with sticks or something, but they managed to avoid knocking anything out of the cart--each other included. He was beginning to think that he might actually be able to get this thing done on time. "Excuse me, are you Mr. McIntosh Apple?" Typical. Big Mac stopped and glanced around, finally noticing a pale gray mare approaching him. She smiled warmly. "Eeyup." "I am Gypsum. I understand your family owns most of the land around this town?" "Eeyup," Big Mac agreed, offering a hoof that she readily took. "Us 'n' the Riches." "Well, I represent a very old, very powerful Equestrian family," Gypsum said. She was wearing a frilly, expensive-looking saddle--the kind that only left the bedroom on the backs of well-paid servants. "They are interested in taking a rather old and useless bit of property off your hooves..." Applebloom wriggled between a barrel of Red Delicious and one of Fujis, standing up on her hindhooves and peering over the side of the cart. Her brother was yakking away with some long-legged mare whose coat color reminded her of Silver Spoon's. She was well-dressed, ribbons in her mane and tail and a fancy saddle on her back. It hid her cutie mark. "Hey, who's that, Applebloom?" Scootaloo asked, popping up beside her and significantly reducing the space between the barrels. "Can't...breathe..." Applebloom wheezed. "She sure is pretty," Sweetie Belle chimed in, placing her forehooves on her friends' backs. "Is she your brother's special somepony?" "Ah...don't...even know what's happenin' between him and Miss Cheerilee," Applebloom gasped, rotating her torso so that her lungs had room to expand. "Let alone this mare." "I don't like the look of her," Scootaloo proclaimed. "That's not nice," Sweetie Belle scolded. "Don't you remember what Applebloom told us about the whole Zecora incident?" "Well, yeah, but..." Applebloom tuned out her friends' minor argument. It was true that she had been the pony to reach out to Zecora, when all the grown mares had been terrified of her difference, but she got what Scootaloo was saying. There was something...off about the gray mare. She just couldn't put her hoof on it. After all, she looked perfectly normal at first glance--perfectly coiffed mane, pricked ears, warm smile...holy Celestia, there it was. She hadn't blinked once since approaching Big Mac. "That jest ain't right," Applebloom muttered. "What was that, Applebloom?" Sweetie Belle asked. "Um...Ah said, Ah think the princess is in danger! Grab yer swords, mares, we gotta protect her!" "Yessss!" Scootaloo hoofpumped before spinning around to retrieve her 'sword.' Applebloom adjusted her bucket helmet with a grim expression on her face, preparing to leap down and charge the mysterious mare. It wouldn't occur to her until much later that it might have been an unforgivably stupid idea.
PrologueIt wasn't normal for ponies to live so close to the nesting grounds of dragons, but in the case of the two mares who settled near the Onyx Clan, no one contradicted them. The dragons didn't know much about ponies or their culture. They assumed that the older of the two, who appeared to be an adult in her prime, was the mother, and the other (nearly a third her size) was the daughter. Or maybe they were sisters. It made no impression that the mare was an ashy purple, with the silky mane and tail and cornered eyes of eastern Equestria, and the filly was orange with hair that looked like windblown feathers. It was the same with the fact that the mare had a single horn while the filly had wings. They were both ponies, and they lived together, so they had to be related. The Onyx Clan was small and isolated. There were only fifty adults and thirteen adolescents, with a fluctuating number of children running around underclaw. No other dragon clans nested within a hundred miles of them. And maybe that was why they accepted the ponies living within sight of them without question. Old Snap was the patriarch of the Clan. Hatchlings and mated adults alike came to him with their problems, and if they faced attack or starvation, he was expected to lead. He was ancient even by the standards of his kind, the sails of his wings cracking like untreated leather and most of his fangs little more than stumps. But his eyes were bright. His mate was long-dead, the Clan was a peaceful community and so rarely needed him, and they hadn't migrated for years, so Snap often had to find rather unconventional ways to amuse himself. His favorite, currently, was reading. He had accumulated an impressive amount of books over his lifetime, and one of the best ways (in his opinion) to spend an afternoon was leafing through one of them. Until, that is, the ponies came. They interested him. And at Snap's age, that didn't happen very often. He started watching them from the ledge outside of his cave right after they arrived with nothing but their saddlebags and the strange symbols that they both wore around their necks. Unlike the rest of the Clan, he didn't believe they were related by blood (they were far too different for that), but he could see that there was something strong between them. It was evident in the way that the mare magically sent rocks whizzing through the air for the filly's amusement, the quick nuzzles that they frequently shared, the tail that the mare would toss over the filly's back when they were heading home. Protective and comforting like a teenage dragon throwing a wing around his female's shoulders. They lived in a small cleft in a massive rock and spent most of the day looking for edible plants. If the mare tried to leave without the filly, she was stopped instantly by nervous squalling. Alternately, she yelled at the little one if she strayed too far. But she didn't seem to need the filly as much as the filly needed her. They were happy here, but afraid of something. Probably whatever they had left behind when they came. The filly had carried some sort of wheeled contraption here, all folded up and crammed into one of her saddlebags. The ground was too rocky and rough for her to make much use it. But she took it out every day and tried to make it go, tiny wings buzzing like those of an insect. She couldn't fly, even though her mare was skilled at lifting things with her magic. It was her that Snap was interested in. The older one, the purple one. She was a reader, just like him. Her saddlebags were full of books and she spent at least an hour a day reading. He wanted to talk to her, because even though he hadn't had many (or any) dealings with her kind before, she was the first literate creature he had seen in almost two hundred years. But he waited. He watched her and her little one talk quietly in the evening and forage in the morning. He watched the mare clumsily weave a small blanket out of inedible grass and present it to the filly on what must have been her birthday. He saw their wide eyes and their dependency on each other and the way their flanks steadily sank as winter drew closer. And finally, on the day of the first frost, Old Snap saw the mare reading a book that she had already finished. She was out. He wrote a note on a piece of parchment. The letters were minuscule, but he had no trouble with it. One of the hatchlings (his great-grandson, actually) delivered it to the ponies' home while they were out, and the next morning, both were making their way up the switchback path that led to his cave. The mare walked right in when she arrived, meeting his gaze coolly. "You're not afraid," Snap noted. For some reason, that pleased him. "No," she said evenly. "Not of dragons." They wintered in his cave, eating the mosses and mushrooms that grew in the wetter passages. The wheels of the filly's contraption worked beautifully on the smooth floor, which delighted her to no end. The mare almost fainted when she saw Snap's 'library'. They spent hours next to his stacks of books, discussing magic theory and dragon history. A few of the smaller dragons made the hike during the cold months, curious about 'Grampa's ponies'. The filly was ecstatic and constructed adventures with them in the back caverns, even letting them try out her wheel thing--kids were kids no matter the species, he supposed. The mare was good with them, compassionate yet firm. Like a combination of schoolteacher and mother. But Snap often saw tears in her eyes after their visits. The filly took to calling him Grampa near the thaw and the mare once leaned her head affectionately against his leg. He told them often enough that they were welcome and he enjoyed their company, and steadily that became code for "I love you." He never learned their names or gave them his, and maybe it was better that way. "So am I right to assume you were running from something when you came here?" It was early, both in spring and in the morning. Snow still covered most of the Onyx Clan's territory, but the ledge outside Snap's cave was bare. That was where he and the mare were crouched, while the filly slept in the cave behind them. She was silent for a very long time, watching the sun rise. When she spoke her voice was even. "Yes," she said. "Yeah. We came here to get away." He didn't ask her what they had been trying to get away from, and she didn't tell him. They wouldn't broach the subject again until midsummer, right after the mare gave herself and the filly manecuts because their tails were dragging the floor. But during now and then, Snap learned plenty. For example, why she was taking care of a filly who so obviously wasn't related to her. "I made a promise to a friend." What the symbol around her neck was. "It's the cutie mark of Celestia. The sun goddess." The name of the filly's wheeled toy. "That's a scooter." And he relayed these things to the little dragons the next time they came to play with the filly and listen to the mare talk about the history of their race. Predictably, they didn't care. They were far more interested in the ponies themselves than their grandfather's crazy ramblings about them. Not that that was a bad thing--the filly's shrieking laughter could be heard from the back caves, and the mare's face positively lit up when she saw them coming. But after the hatchlings left, he found her in the 'library', swiping angrily at her eyes with one hoof. "What is it about them?" Snap asked quietly. "They--" She stopped, gulped in air. "I--he--oh, Celestia." She buried her face in her hooves. Old Snap waited. Finally, the mare raised her head. "I lived w-with a dragon hatchling for a long time," she said shakily. "I raised him. He was...like a little brother to me, like a son. He was my assistant. My number-one assistant." She smiled weakly, staring off into space. Snap was honestly surprised. The idea of a pony raising a dragon was incredibly strange to him; he had never heard of anything like it. Though he supposed that his own relationship with the orange filly was just as odd. "What happened to him? Why isn't he here with you?" he asked gently. He expected to be told that the lad had grown wings and left, off to find himself a female and found a clan. It was sad, but a common occurrence among dragon families. Only a quarter of Snap's own offspring had remained within Onyx. "He's dead," the mare said dully. "Oh...oh, little one." Snap put one cracked-leather wing around her and drew her close. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know." "It's okay." She twisted her head, stared into his stern amber eyes with her wide violet ones. "I...it's just...he's not really..." "Not really what?" Snap tightened his grip on her, offering comfort with his innate heat. He sensed that he was about to find out the reason for her presence here. "N-not...really...dead." Snap was silent for a long time. Then he shifted his wing slightly, into a more protective position, and spoke. "Oh, little one," he said softly. The mare began to cry, and she told him everything. One night in late fall, almost a year after the ponies had come to the Onyx Clan, the filly screamed in her sleep. It wasn't the first time it had happened. But it was the first in a long, long time. By the time Snap got to her bedside, she had stopped shrieking names that meant nothing to him ("Applebloom! Sweetie Belle! Rainbow Dash!") and the mare was already there. Stroking her feathery forelock with a calm, resolved expression on her face. "We're leaving soon," she whispered without looking at Snap. "She and I. We have to go back, and set things right. I have to finish what I started." He could have argued with her. He could have begged her. He could have told her to go, but leave the filly here, with him. Where she'd be safe. "I hope you're successful," he said instead. "For all our sakes." She smiled. Her muzzle was wet with tears. "I love you," he added. "I know." The next morning, they left. Dragons were a faithless people, but Old Snap prayed for them all the same.
One"A Changeling attack on your brother's wedding day? Forgive me, Twilight, I don't know what to say." "It all turned out alright in the end," Twilight replied, raising a bowl of tea to her lips and sipping. "You are here, so it must be true. And I have heard it from others, too," Zecora acknowledged. "Rainbow Dash came by to tell of a battle straight from hell." "Well, it wasn't that bad..." "That is what Pinkie said," she answered, "despite the bandage 'round her head." "Oh. That was from something else." Twilight laughed. "None of us were seriously hurt in the attack, and I guess we should be thankful for that. A lot of ponies weren't so lucky." It had been almost two months since the incident in Canterlot. For Twilight Sparkle and her friends, life had finally returned to some semblance of normality. No rogue Changelings had popped up wanting revenge, everypony had stopped wanting to hear the story again and again, and Cadance and Shining Armor had settled nicely into married life. Twilight had made the trek out to Zecora's home to get some books for independent study (the zebra's library, though meager, was full of exotic books), but had learned that she had never actually heard the entire Changeling story. So what should have been a quick trip had turned into a lengthy social visit. Not that Twilight minded. Zecora made some truly fantastic tea. "From what I heard, you were on the front lines," Zecora said, getting to her hooves to stir the contents of the small cauldron hanging over the fire. "A spirit of luck must be on your side. To not be hurt in such a fierce war--I've never heard of this before." "I wouldn't call it a war, the real battle didn't even last an hour," Twilight pointed out. She ignited her horn and raised her bowl to her muzzle again. "Ah, yes, but it was Changelings you fought," Zecora countered. "And you fired more than a single shot. You were strong and brave and true; in my land, we'd make a warrior out of you." Twilight blushed and looked away. "Well--" "You should not fear praise, my dear Twilight," Zecora said gently. "But this discussion must end, for it shall soon be night." "What? Oh!" Twilight glanced out the window, then leaped to her hooves, nearly knocking her bowl of tea over in the process. It looked like Celestia was lowering the sun. The sight of it sinking below the false horizon created by the trees unnerved her greatly--she didn't want to have to find her way out of the Everfree in the dark. She slung her empty saddlebags onto her back, completely forgetting why she'd come. She had to get home in time to write the outline for this week's letter to the princess, and Spike had to be given a bath (which was an ordeal inof itself), and-- "Twilight! Twilight, wait!" Taking her hoof off of the door, Twilight turned around to see Zecora trotting toward her with a stack of books on her back. "Aren't you forgetting why you came?" She smiled sheepishly. "Oh...right. Thanks, Zecora." "I'm always happy to lend to you." The zebra turned so that Twilight could see the titles of the books before dumping them into her saddlebags. "These are the books you wanted, true?" "Yeah--they are, How did you know?" "There are some secrets I must keep." Zecora winked. "You'd best get home and get to sleep. There's something about the forest tonight--something I'm not sure I like." The sudden transition from joking to warning sent a chill up Twilight's spine. She hid it with a bright smile. "Well, thanks for the tea, Zecora--and the books. I'll bring them back when I'm done." The zebra shooed her out the door, murmuring goodbyes and other pleasantries. She watched Twilight trot off through the darkening Everfree. The sun had vanished completely by the time Twilight reached Ponyville. The moon wasn't up yet, though--Luna was still painting her sky, the first stars bright enough to promise a masterpiece. Most denizens of the town had already gone inside for the night. Golden light spilled out of their windows, illuminating the few ponies still up and about. There was Derpy, delivering the last few letters of the day. Rose was watering the flowers in front of the shop that she tended with Daisy and Lily. Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon, her housemate (Twilight assumed--she didn't know them well enough to judge their relationship), were chatting quietly on a bench. She smiled at them as she passed. Predictably, the library was lit up like a birthday cake for Princess Celestia, and Spike was waiting with Owloysius. She mentally sighed. "I'm sorry, Spike, the time got away from me..." Twilight apologized, levitating her heavy saddlebags off of her back. "Twilight, you said that you'd be home three hours ago," Spike said, following her after she had dumped the bags on the floor. Owloysius, satisfied that she was home safe, hooted and flew up to his perch. "I know, Spike, but Zecora and I just got...carried away." She twitched her withers in an approximation of a shrug. "But ti's not like--" "The mayor came by and wanted to see you." "Really?" Twilight stopped and turned around. "What did she want?" "The legal stuff for the land surrounding Ponyville," Spike replied. "Well...I think that most of it belongs to the Apple family." She tapped her chin with one forehoof, sitting down and stifling a yawn. "But why did the mayor want to know?" "I don't know. Something about somepony moving into that old castle in the Everfree?" "What?" Instinctively, Twilight shot a look in the direction of the ancient Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, though her view was blocked by the walls of the library. "That's where you guys fought Nightmare Moon, right?" Spike asked, heading up the stairs. He seemed to have forgotten about being mad at her for being so late. "Yeah." Twilight stood and followed him. "I can't imagine anypony wanting to live there. The place is practically falling down, and besides, it's creepy." "Maybe, but look!" Spike clambered up onto her bed and pointed out the window, glancing back to make sure she had heard him. Hopping up to crouch beside him, she peered through the thin glass. A light was shining somewhere in the Everfree. It was a dark red--had to be unicorn magic. "D'you think that whoever it was already moved into the castle?" Spike asked, glancing at her. Twilight frowned. "No...the light's a little too far to the right. Maybe they're camping near it until they can move in?" His eyes narrowed, but his expression quickly cleared when he yawned. "Well, I'd better get to bed." "Alright." As Spike hopped down into his own bed, Twilight's horn glowed briefly. All the candles in the library snuffed out at once. Before crawling under her astronomy-print comforter, she looked at the light in the forest for a little while longer. She'd never seen magic that color before. A/N: Just a quick request--would it kill you to tell me why you want to click the thumbs-down button? I don't mind being thumbed down, but I'd really like to know the reason so I can improve. Thank you.
Two"Y'all'd better git them apples over to Sugarcube Corner right quick, Big Mac. Mrs. Cake says they got somethin' big planned." "Eeyup." Big McIntosh leaned forward, the wood of a yoke that had long since worn smooth rubbing against his fur. The wheels of the old cart creaked and turned. It was packed full of barrels of apples, each carrying a different kind. They weren't quite ready, in Big Mac's opinion. Could have done with another week or so of ripening. But the Cakes had placed an order and Applejack had deemed the fruit from the west fields good enough for baking. Without consulting him first, of course, but he had gotten used to that. "Big Mac! Big Mac, wait up!" Obligingly, he stopped. Little Applebloom and her friends scampered up beside him. She had a bucket on her head with a couple of blue feathers tied to it (maybe in an approximation of a royal guard's helmet), and the other two were carrying sticks in their mouths. Big Mac struggled to keep a straight face. He had observed enough of his younger sister's misadventures to know that there was no way this could end well. "Are ya goin' into town?" Applebloom asked with a wide smile. "Eeyup," he replied. "We'a rodeck ya!" Scootaloo exclaimed around her stick. "Beg pardon?" "We'll protect ya," Applebloom translated while her friends swung their sticks in fierce arcs. "We're gonna be Cutie Mark Crusaders royal guards!" "Ya cah be Prih-seh Celehtia," Scootaloo chimed in. "We'ah prackissin'!" "Eeyup," Big Mac nodded in observation of that fact. "Well then, ya'll'd better climb on up." He glanced at the cart. "Ah guess there ain't no harm in it." "Thank ya, big brother!" Applebloom said brightly. "Now, c'mon, mares! Let's git! The princess has to be in Ponyville for the Summer Sun Celebration soon!" "Yeh suh, cappen Apple-loom!" He leaned forward again, settled into the steady rhythm of a cart and its puller. He could hear the fillies in the back, wriggling around between the apple barrels. That couldn't be safe, with those sharp sticks in their-- "Ow! Sweetie Belle, ya poked me!" "Sah-ee!" "Sorry don't cut it, soldier! Ah want ya to get out and walk!" "'Ut Apple-loom--" "Ah said git out!" The sounds of a minor scuffle, probably not meant to be serious, came from behind Big Mac. His ears lowered in concern, but he didn't stop and turn around until something thumped against the road and Sweetie Belle started wailing. "Ow! Ow, why did you do that?! My mouth--" "Ah'm sorry!" Applebloom cried. "I fergot that--" "Git up here, lemme have a look at it," Big Mac called with a deep internal sigh. Why did such bad things happen whenever he was around foals? Sweetie Belle trotted up and warily opened her mouth. He peered inside. There was a small cut on her palate, barely a nick, that had already stopped bleeding. She said something without closing her mouth, eyes darting nervously around. He thought that it might be "It's really bad, isn't it?" "Uhhnope." He motioned for her to close her mouth. "Should be fine." She did so, looking scandalized. "Are you sure it's alright? It really hurts!" "Stop being a foal, Sweetie!" Scootaloo called. "I'm not! It--" "Lissen, fillies, Ah hate to interrupt, but Ah really gotta git these apples into town..." Big Mac interrupted. "Just get back in the cart, Sweetie Belle!" Scootaloo yelled. The small unicorn did so, muttering something under her breath. Big Mac pulled. For the third time, the cart lurched into motion. Maybe this time he might actually be able to make it to Sugarcube Corner. He reached the bridge that led into Ponyville in just under fifteen minutes. The fillies in the back squabbled near constantly, hitting each other with sticks or something, but they managed to avoid knocking anything out of the cart--each other included. He was beginning to think that he might actually be able to get this thing done on time. "Excuse me, are you Mr. McIntosh Apple?" Typical. Big Mac stopped and glanced around, finally noticing a pale gray mare approaching him. She smiled warmly. "Eeyup." "I am Gypsum. I understand your family owns most of the land around this town?" "Eeyup," Big Mac agreed, offering a hoof that she readily took. "Us 'n' the Riches." "Well, I represent a very old, very powerful Equestrian family," Gypsum said. She was wearing a frilly, expensive-looking saddle--the kind that only left the bedroom on the backs of well-paid servants. "They are interested in taking a rather old and useless bit of property off your hooves..." Applebloom wriggled between a barrel of Red Delicious and one of Fujis, standing up on her hindhooves and peering over the side of the cart. Her brother was yakking away with some long-legged mare whose coat color reminded her of Silver Spoon's. She was well-dressed, ribbons in her mane and tail and a fancy saddle on her back. It hid her cutie mark. "Hey, who's that, Applebloom?" Scootaloo asked, popping up beside her and significantly reducing the space between the barrels. "Can't...breathe..." Applebloom wheezed. "She sure is pretty," Sweetie Belle chimed in, placing her forehooves on her friends' backs. "Is she your brother's special somepony?" "Ah...don't...even know what's happenin' between him and Miss Cheerilee," Applebloom gasped, rotating her torso so that her lungs had room to expand. "Let alone this mare." "I don't like the look of her," Scootaloo proclaimed. "That's not nice," Sweetie Belle scolded. "Don't you remember what Applebloom told us about the whole Zecora incident?" "Well, yeah, but..." Applebloom tuned out her friends' minor argument. It was true that she had been the pony to reach out to Zecora, when all the grown mares had been terrified of her difference, but she got what Scootaloo was saying. There was something...off about the gray mare. She just couldn't put her hoof on it. After all, she looked perfectly normal at first glance--perfectly coiffed mane, pricked ears, warm smile...holy Celestia, there it was. She hadn't blinked once since approaching Big Mac. "That jest ain't right," Applebloom muttered. "What was that, Applebloom?" Sweetie Belle asked. "Um...Ah said, Ah think the princess is in danger! Grab yer swords, mares, we gotta protect her!" "Yessss!" Scootaloo hoofpumped before spinning around to retrieve her 'sword.' Applebloom adjusted her bucket helmet with a grim expression on her face, preparing to leap down and charge the mysterious mare. It wouldn't occur to her until much later that it might have been an unforgivably stupid idea.
