Clastic Glowby RocinanteChaptersSwageAetherRecklessWindQuenchMemoriesOutburstsMomentsDreams and PromisesFallingDancing in the MoonlightSwageSwage; \ˈswāj, ˈswej\ : a tool used by metalworkers for shaping their work, by holding it on the work, or the work on it; and striking with a hammer or sledge The little foundry on the edge of Canterlot was humming, its barn-like doors opened to expose fire, steel, and machines. A dower gray earth pony examined a massive sheet of copper being heated over a bed of coals. It was clear that this project was bigger than the ones the little shop normally handled. “Where the hay is that colt, we’re going to have to start without him,” the gray pony grumbled. The only other pony in the shop, a unicorn with a chestnut coat, answered, “Swage wouldn’t miss seeing you work a sheet this big for anything. I’m starting to worry about him.” The older pony snorted. “Whatever possessed me to take a pegasus on as an apprentice I’ll never know. We’re starting this in five whether he’s here or not, you’ll have to take up his slack Quench.” “Yes Master Pigiron,” the journeyman unicorn barked. Truth be told, Pigiron knew exactly why he had taken the little pegasus as his apprentice; he had never met a pony that loved working metal as much as Swage, nor somepony that could learn as fast as he could. Pigiron had learned early on not to show him anything he didn’t want him trying. Swage could reproduce a skill after watching it just once or twice. Of course, it still took him awhile to get good at the task. But still, he was an adept in the art. His gift was also a curse in the eyes of his master. He would never push himself. Learn something, fix something, take off to take a nap or play in the nearest cloud; wash, rinse, and repeat. “The colt could be the best, if he wasn’t so pleased with himself about being good” He mumbled. A wheat colored streak shot between two clouds. After a moment of rustling the cloud produced the bust of a pony, his dark brown mane hanging from the cloud like a banner. Grinning like mad pony he scanned for the next cloud to assault. The air was cool and the sun warm, no wind ether; it was perfect flying weather. Tall puffy clouds called him to come and play. It was a call he couldn’t resist. Flying in the wonderland the clouds made, he played with total abandonment of his dignity. He was really too old to be playing in clouds like this, but he didn’t care. He threw himself into a cloud like a cannonball, gouging a hole deep into the cloud before coming to a stop. Pausing to catch his breath he jolted. “Horseapples!” he yelled, “I forgot about the boiler!” Pigiron looked to the clock on the wall, then checked the heating metal. “It’s ready, if we leave it in any longer it’ll burn.” He gave a nod to the unicorn. The old smithy would never admit it, but he was a bit worried about his student. Swage loved sheet-work more than anything else and he couldn’t imagine him missing this rare example of large scale white-smithing. “Alright Quench, lets start this.” By hoof and magic, the two hefted the glowing red sheet into the air and began swing it towards the mold that it was to be worked around. Swage could see movement in the foundry he called home. They had started without him. “O’ man Pigiron is going to tan me!” he whined to himself. He made a fast landing in his normal spot, center of the door, just a few feet inside the building. His eyes were on the floor as he flared his wings to stop himself. The clack of hooves hitting the stone floor was echoed by the whine of stretching metal and the sudden shout of his master. Tearing his eyes to the sound he found a red hot wall fluttering towards him. All he could do was wince. His eyes were closed, when he felt the heat of the metal tumble past him. It was a close miss. Two voices screamed out anew in alarm. It occurred to him that his left wing had gone numb, but that was quickly replaced with a pain he would never be able to give words for. AetherSoft Body: a metaphysical concept, an aspect of a body that extends beyond what is perceptible to the senses. See: soul. A pony with one wing paced the empty floor of the old merchant house. His Pegasus blood itched. The wind billowed gently outside, the sky was clear and welcoming. He didn’t need to see it, the wind called to him. Having the ancient pile of stone stacked around him was comforting. It kept the sky away, silenced the wind. He could have picked a newer building, but the heavy stone rooms here helped him forget, they added their weight to his soul. The building was one of the oldest in Ponyville, a cornerstone of the quaint market district. He finally had his own shop with his own suite on the second floor. Walking outside his crystal blue eyes scanned the sign he had hung up that morning: “Swage Hammer: General Smith, Licenced Farrier” “Swage Hammer,” he repeated the name to himself. He had been born as simply Swage; it was Five years apprenticeship, four years journeyman, and an exam before the Elders, that gave him the title Hammer. Now he was a Master smith and allowed to open his own shop. Even take an apprentice if he wanted. His still couldn’t believe his luck. Finding a town in need of a smithy, that wasn’t some pothole on the edge of the frontier. The previous smithy, Plowshare Hammer, had retired and moved to be with his grandfoals some years ago; taking his tools with him to set up his “retirement shop”. Leaving the small town without a smithy. And the famous Twilight Sparkle lived less than a mile from him. She would be a priceless asset in his constant research. Of course he had not expected to meet her, or the rest of the Elements of Harmony, on his first night here. He had barely gotten his luggage off the train when he had been assaulted by a welcoming party, thrown by none other than the Element of Laughter herself. He had put on his best face for the whole event, wanting nothing more that to simply sleep. But, it was an excellent chance to make a first impression on all the ponies that would hopefully become his clients. With his entire life savings dumped into moving and new tools, he would need every customer he could get. Soon the building’s lower floor and porch would be bustling with equipment, but for now he had nothing to do. His massive order of tools for both his smithing and arcane crafts would be arriving by freight later that day. ‘Well, may as well tour the town and hit up the library.’ As he meandered the marked district of the little town he found himself within the farmers market. The smells of produce and home cooked treats awakened his appetite. The bag of grain he had brought for the train ride and the sweets from last night left him sorely wanting for fresh food. Turning about, intending to pick a stall at random, he found a strange sight. One of the Elements of Harmony, was selling food from a little wooden cart. Applejack had just gotten her cart up and running for the day when she recognised the new smithy, form the night before, giving her a quizzical look. “What can I do ya for, Smithy?” greeting him with a smile. Bewilderment forced his head to an angle as he asked, “You run a food cart?” “Among many other things,” she replied proudly. The food on her cart was making his mouth water, hunger overtook his curiosity. “Can I get the baked apples and some apple chips?” “Sure thing sugarcube.” The one featherless nub that jutted from the side of the pegasus drew her attention with grim curiosity. She placed the order out and paused a moment. “Can I ask...” she just looked to the old wound. “I was reckless once in my master’s workshop. Didn’t look where I was going.” The nub moved a little as he cast a glance back at it.” “O’, I’m sorry.” She regretted asking. His forced smile had fallen from him like a veil. The scars on his heart were as clear to her as those that decorated his body. She chided herself for picking at such a wound. “What do I owe you for the food?” Swage asked with forced pleasantries. “Normally two bits, but first time’s free. Gotta get ya hooked!” She gave her best wicked grin. “Thanks.” Swage took the plate of food in his teeth and headed to the nearest unoccupied bench. As he walked away it occurred to her she hadn’t seen his cutie mark yet. She watched him cross the park until he finally chanced to turn broadside to her. It was a black anvil with gold wings. “Afternoon, Mr. Macintosh” Swage spoke from behind a large open forge. Bellows sighed in a crisp even rhythm. The buildings large porch now bustled with tools of all sizes. The full shelves behind him spoke of a steady workload, despite having been in the town only a week now. Mac had an old plow and three young fillies in tow. The girls, full of life, ran circles around the big red stallion; a stark contrast to the spent and broken plow. Mac shucked the farm equipment onto the table in front of Swage. “Need to get that fixed,” he said, glaring at his nemesis as it crashed on the workbench. Swage assessed the plow. The hitch had broken clean off; mouldboard and share were both wrought iron. He was sure there had been a steel foreshare, but that had worn away a lifetime ago. The fittings had rusted solid too. “I’ll charge you a lot less to just make a new one.” he said flatly. “I’ll even buy the old iron off you for eight bits.” He paused and looked the device over again. There were clear signs that it had been used recently. “You actually still use this dull thing!?” “Only plow we got,” Mac retorted, looking at the device he had spent so many years with, assuming it to be a typical example of the species. He blinked, curious what the smythy knew that he didn’t. “So, how much for a new one?” Swage rubbed a hoof against his left side, grimacing as he added up the hours needed for the project in his head. “Give me the old plow, and I’ll call it sixty bits. I repair anything I make for free for life, too” “Ya take thirty of that in credit with my sister’s store?” Mac had his best poker face on now. Swage had been warned by the other merchants that the Apples would haggle for all but the smallest services. Trying to trade produce instead of paying in bits.Thirty bits left him some change after the materials and having to outsource the wood working. He had to buy food anyway. “Deal,” Swage pronounced, extending a foreleg out to seal the bargain. Mac clearly wasn’t used to having his first offer taken so eagerly. It took him a moment, but he met the smithy’s hoof and shook. With the work commissioned, he went back to the task he had started earlier. While Big Mac had left to continue his errands, his entourage had stayed behind. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had met up after school as usual. Having no original idea of their own, they took to following Applebloom's big brother in hopes the he would lead them to a new place and, by extension, another idea to earn their cutie mark. And they had struck gold . The smithy didn’t seem to notice them, as he was entranced in his own work. The girls soon found themselves also hypnotized by the fire, sparks, and glowing metal. Their minds raced with desire to try the craft themselves. He had just got back into his zone when he felt a strange presence. His eyes refocused, looking past the hammer he was wielding. Three pairs of eyes stared back at him with undivided attention. Swage knew the look in the girls’ eyes. He had watched a hulking earth pony work hot iron for days when he was no bigger, and it only took a week of begging and his best behavior before he had been allowed behind the workbench himself. Turning away from his audience, he drug a small forge near the smallest of his anvils. “Come on back girls. Get it out of your system” The three friends traded glances in disbelief. “You mean we can try it?” Applebloom stammered out. They all three made to pounce behind the counter. “Hold up!” Swage interrupted them, getting a crushing look of disappointment as he did. “Two rules.” He threw each filly a pair of goggles. Thick glass bound to cloth by copper bands. “You have to keep those on.” He rummaged through a pile of scrap and pulled out three black bars. Dropping them by the forge he took one and scratched a circle in the dirt around the equipment. “Second, you can use anything inside the circle, but don’t touch anything outside the circle... Understand?” “Yes Sir,” they answered simultaneously. “All right, come on back then.” Scootaloo led the charge behind the counter, but froze in terror when the pegasus stallion turned to reach for something. She hadn’t realized he was missing a wing until she was within a foreleg’s reach of his side; now the wound filled her vision. Something deep within her turned sick. She had heard of ponies losing a wing before, but the story always ended with them dieing. Pegasi that lost their wings always seemed to just wither away, or end the own life. The sick feeling turned to empathy for the fellow earth-locked pegasus. She forced herself to look him in the eye as he turned back around to face the trio. Swage lit up the little forge and briefly gave them the beginners tips before letting them loose to try the skill themselves. He was confident that they had enough sense not to grab the hot end. Going back to his own project, he kept an ear on them more than an eye. The girls still chattered as their anvil rang behind him. He held up a newly finished cream boat to check the seams. The copper bright pink for the last acid wash. All he had left on this project was to tin it. Tinning was the first chore his master had let him on his own to do. He still found it deeply relaxing. “Wow, you’re brave!” a loud voice spoke near him. He hadn’t seen her approach. It was Twilight Sparkle, she was grimly looking at the the girls behind him. Glancing back at the three he shrugged. “Eaa, they’re harmless. Better to give them something to do than let them find something to do... What brings you over?” “Those books you wanted came in this morning. They’re too old to leave the climate-controlled room, though, so you’ll have to come by to read them....” Twilight paused, the aether around her rippled form the presence of magic. She looked around but saw no reason for the sensation. “That’s some pretty esoteric stuff you asked for.” Again the strange feeling nagged at her. “Something wrong?” Swage pried. “No, I thought I felt a spell near me,” she explained, still unsure of herself. “That’s probably the half dozen enchantments I’m working on back here.” Grabbing a freshly polished stew pot, he placed it on the counter between them. “This is a big seller, food won't burn to the bottom. I also have never-stick enchanted pans.” “Oh no, if Spike hears about this I’ll be broke. Wait, what, you do enchanting!? Well, that explains the books.” Twilight looked from the smithy to the cookware. Swage Scratched at his mane as he spoke. “Yea, enchanting is what I did for my Masters demonstration before the Guild Elders.” Twilight assessed the pot with her magics. It was enchanted and while not exceptionally powerful, it was many times greater than anything she ever heard of a non-unicorn doing. She knew very well the Pegasus and Earth Ponies had no less magic in them than Unicorns did, but Unicorns had a physical tap that allowed their magic to enter creation as they willed. She had never heard of a non-unicorn attempting more than the simplest magics. Zecora’s potions and charms were the most exposure she had to ritual magic of this nature. “No wonder you got the Master’s title so young.” Twilight looked around the workshop for a moment. “Can I watch you make something? I’d really like to see how you do this.” Foal-like curiosity was thick in her voice. “You mean see how a Pegasus does this,” Swage scowled Twilight stammered, “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean too.. It’s just...” A strange cackle burst out of the smithy. “Sure, I’ll make a little art project for you. Have a seat, watch however you like.” /// Although slightly perplexed, she wasn’t going to turn up the chance to learn something new in the field of magic. Getting comfortable she reached out with her magic and carefully surveyed the smithy. He sat and cleared himself, she felt his aura drop to a smooth focused state. Opening his eyes he took out a few small billets of metal: copper, gold and a tiny bead of platinum. All his movements were trance like. “Step a little closer Ms. Sparkle,” he said with a voice like the possessed. She obeyed. Abandoning her eyes altogether for her sixth sense, she gently probed and analyzed the Aether about the smithy. She felt something, the lost wing, it was still there, sort of. His soft body remembered the wing and was desperately trying to find the lost flesh. The static crackle of the aether was starting to be replaced with patterns and familiar hums, he was shaping magic within him. It was a familiar process; were he a unicorn his horn would be glowing. The eye within her horn watched the raged ghost wing solidified within the astral space as the spell he was weaving built its power. He was moving now. She could hear fire and hammer. The smithy’s soft body warped, extending past the flesh and taking the tool he held within itself. The tool now an extension of his very soul and will. With each blow of the tool, the lifeless form it pounded started glowing brighter. A spell was taking shape within the metal he was working, it was a very weak spell, but a spell. Moments later the item went hot with magical force. Twilight jumped, something powerful had moved in the Aether. ‘The wing!’ It had lost all resemblance of its old flesh. It was now a shapeless reaching mass that crackled gently with energy. It looked all with world like the reach of a unicorn’s horn. Her mind filled in the blanks, her eyes opened with surprise. ‘He’s using the phantom wing like a horn!’ Her eyes darted around the shop, it was perfectly boring on this level. Nopony knew what fantastic things were happening within the astral. Her eyes met the smithy’s as he worked, he smirked. Something pinched at her magics wickedly, closing her eyes she rejoined the ethereal show. A tendril of energy now connected her to the object, but it faded out of existence before she could analyze it. She watched as the tool lost its aura and the wing faded back to a cobweb shadow. The item though, it had a near living presence to it. He was still working on it, but in a mundane way. She sat her magics to rest and reopened her eyes. /// “This is well and truly yours now, Ms. Sparkle,” Swage said as a gleaming writing pen emerged from a pan of soapy water. He laid it down before her. “Are you sure? That’s an expensive gift,” she protested. “It as useless as a rock to anypony but you, now. Pick it up. You’ll see.” He gestured to the pen. Grinning a bit more than he would have liked. Twilight went to reach for the pen with her magic, but it snapped to attention before she had even completed the thought. The pen took to motion, writing in the air. Had it ink and paper, her confused internal monologue would have been spelled out. A big toothy grin spread across Twilight’s face as she grasped what was happening. “You aligned the metal’s crystals to my aura.” “In a nutshell,” he let out a big sigh, “and that’s it for me today! I’m going to clean up and head over to the library.” He looked over his shoulder. “Wrap it up girls. I’m closing shop as soon as I’m clean” “OK!” comes the three voices as one form. ‘That’s starting to creep me out a bit,’ he thought Looking again to Twilight, “Hang out for a moment and I’ll show you what I’m working on.” He winced, realising he just asked Twilight Sparkle to “hang out” with him. She nodded. “Sure thing.” Her attention turned towards the pen as she distracted herself with it, swishing it about the air like a new toy. Swage took to his end of the day cleaning ritual; the girls followed his example, dowsing their fire and brushing the tools off. He decided to check out their efforts before going inside to wash up. “So, what’d ya make, girls?” The little unicorn had made, well... something. He didn’t know what it was supposed to be, but she was very proud of it and he wasn’t about to tell her she shouldn’t be. The pegasus had a “marshmallow roasting fork,” and he supposed it would be fine for the job. The earth pony, though, had made a very lovely lantern hook. Even made the mounting plate look like a fleur-de-lis. ‘The mare has some talent!’ he thought. The three stood clutching the work, grinning like the school kids they were. “Well girls.” He opened the door to his study. “It’s getting late; you should be getting home.” “What is that!” They said in unison. ‘Yep, that is creepy’ he confirmed to himself. They were all pressed around his fetlocks, nosing through the threshold before he could react. He sighed and simply got out of their way. “That’s some setup you have in there!” Twilight said looking into the room to see what the fuss was about. The room shined with brass and crystals; one wall had become a floor to ceiling chalkboard, it was full of arcane scribblings and formulas. The center of the room was dominated by a pony mannequin supporting a sparsely feathered metal skeleton. A little imagination could clearly see that once completed it would look all the world like a pegasus wing. Swage motioned for Twilight to come in. “This is what I was going to show you, anyway. It’s my life’s work. I’m going to fly again with this.” Scootaloo let out a resounding “WOW!” while the others had a skeptical expression. He continued, “Every part of this is tuned to me like that pen is to you. It’s taken me two years to get this far, but I can spend a lot more time on it now.” Twilight studied the chalkboard. The enchanter was dancing a fine line between insight and madness. [Done with this much...sorry for the delay but things came up and I had trouble with my scheduling.] - MrMinimii Reckless‘He never looks up.’ Twilight thought as she watched the enchanter walking in front of her. His spirits were higher than normal in the gray spring evening as they made their way from the foundry to the library, having finally shooed the foals home. She had gotten him into some casual conversation; he was relating how he had spent his journeyman years studying under several enchanters. She knew the names, all powerful mages in Celestia's retainer. She was only half listening to him talk, though. Instead she was studying him as a whole. Piecing together all she had learned in his study, trying to get a bead on his intentions. The writing on the wall, the books he had ordered, his melancholy spotted with manic episodes, they were all clicking into place now. ‘He’s reckless and willing to die trying to fly again. But, would he willingly harm somepony to get what he wanted?’ The spell was just a specialised golem, but it would be a mindless slave to his own will. The easy way reeked of forbidden magic, the hard danced the line of madness. “Swage?” she asked. “That spell you’re working on. What do you intend on binding into the wing for the life source?” ‘There, a blunt question, now watch his reaction.’ “Myself.” It was an automatic response. Either a very well rehearsed lie, or the truth. It was the answer she was expecting, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “By all rights that should kill you.” “That’s the hitch isn’t it?” he said flatly looking back at her. He looked to the severed limb. “I know you were watching my wing while I worked, I could feel it.” Twilight quietly nodded, curious where he was going with this. “The Pegasus magic is still there. It remembers the wing. If I can just ensnare the phantom form in a new shell...” Twilight picked up where he had started to trail off. “But something’s off. Everything you’ve tried falls apart. The magic isn’t responding like a normal soft body. You feel like you’re working with two entities at once and you can’t get them both to latch into your enchantment.” Swage stopped dead in his tracks. “It took me a year to figure that out.” “Lets get to the library. We’ll talk more in private.” She motioned for him to continue and follow her. The “rare books” section was Twilight’s personal addition to the library. An unused office was now a magically climate controlled and heavily warded fortress for old and rare manuscripts, yet even in this vault there was one case that stood redoubled in its security. It was a small heavy case that could hold no more than two dozen books. Swage sat at the table in the middle of the room, looking over the titles that had been brought in just for him. He looked up from his studies to see the librarian opening the strong box by key and magic. A heavy brown tome floated out towards him. Twilight paused a moment before resting to book before him. “Long ago Celestia and Luna decided to erase the oral history of the early days of creation. When they took their physical forms ponykind was in great turmoil and they felt a fresh start was needed. This book is one of the few recordings of the old legends. Judged by both Sisters, it is an accurate history. You will treat this knowledge with the respect it deserves.” Swage looked from the book to the librarian, he shrink in his seat from her suddenly serious and placid expression. She had been a little, purple unicorn mare a moment ago. But now, he felt the weight of being in the presence of the heir apparent to the Arch Mage. “Yes ma’am,” he croaked, The book flew open, sending a cascade of dusk into the still room; Swage gawked with intrigue as he absorbed the information presented before him. And the first pair looked to the sun and moon and said. “We feel the wind and envy it. We wish for freedom above all other things. Grant us the power to fly and let our hearts live in the clouds.” The Sisters smiled from the heavens and rejoiced in the wish. “You shall have all these things and so shall your children.” The light and the dark met, and between them came forth the first of the elements of wind. “You called for me goddesses of day and night?” “Yes,” the sisters spoke. “Take a feather from your crown and split in two. Give one half to each of these two. Embrace them and call them your cousins, as each of their kind will be born as both your child and ours.” Twilight watched his face as he read. He stopped and shifted his weight. She could tell he was thinking hard. “An Elemental?” he mused out loud. “Pegasus magic isn’t really pegasus at all. It’s the effect of having a Wind Elemental in our blood line.” Scootaloo looked at the town clock, another hour and she would have to go home. Her friends had already gone their own ways for the evening. The door to the library opened, she watched intently to see who was leaving; it was Swage, the very pony she had been waiting for. He stopped to secure his saddle bag. Swallowing hard, she steeled her nerves and approached him. “Excuse me, Master Swage?” she squeaked. Swage was startled by the little voice. Looking up from his saddlebag he found one of the fillies from earlier looking up at him. “Uh.. just Swage or Swage Hammer. The title is really only important between fellow smiths. Can I help you?” His grim expression made it hard for her to look him in the eyes, but something in his voice was comforting. “Will you really be able to fly again with that wing you’re making?” she asked. Swage rolled several answers through his mind. He started to tell her to blow off, but something desperate in her stopped him. “Yea, I’m getting back up there.” “So you could fly once?” It struck him that the filly looked sad to learn he had flown before the accident. “Yea, then I got my wing cut off by a good for nothing unicorn. Why you asking, anyway?” Old wounds, flesh and mental alike, flared; anger looked for a place to lash out. Scootaloo winced, his voice rang of hate. For a moment she thought he would hit her. “I’m sorry,” he said, now sitting on his haunches,eyes closed, breathing deep intentional breaths. “I didn’t mean to do that. What’s your name?” Opening his eyes he put on his best smile. “Scootaloo, and It’s ok, It’s just that... I thought maybe you could make me wings too, but I’ve never flown.” A nervous laugh escaped the smithy. “O’ you just hit a bad growth spurt. You’ll be flying again a soon as your wings catch up. You don’t remember flying around as a yearling?” She shook her head. “No, I never flew as a yearling. I have never flown, ever” Swage stared at the filly in disbelief; one can barely keep yearlings on the ground. To hear of one that never flew was shocking. “Tomorrow, come by my place and let me look you over, see what all is going on. Now get home before your parents worry about you.” Her face brightened before turning to leave, but it didn’t make him feel better. He had no idea where he was going with this, but he couldn’t leave a pegasus on the ground if there was even a chance he could help. WindHis private study buzzed with new life. A pile of notes from his study session with Twilight Sparkle the night before littered his desk. The mannequin and its wing had been removed to the large interior shop. In it’s place esoteric instruments were pulled from their cases and carefully placed in a circle. Walking into the focus of the device he squinted, taking note of their various movements, clicks, and color changes. A rare genuine smile spread across his face. New mysteries were being revealed to him, new concepts, new tools. It was the first big leap he had made since learning to manipulate the phantom limb years ago. There was a gentle rapping against the door. “Come in,” Swage called out. Scootaloo had found the storefront and workshop locked,and the outside forge cold. Intruding into outside work area, she knocked on the door to his study. A brite voice beckoned her to come in. He was scribbling something incomprehensible on the blackboard as she entered. “Want some hot tea?” he asked. “Fluttershy sells the best mint tea I’ve ever had, picked some up this morning. How was school?” He said all in one breath. “I’d love some” She said, dumbfounded. The smithy had a foal-like energy about him. Pointing to a few cushions on the floor Swage commented, “Have a seat. When I get back we’ll get started” Scootaloo sat sipping her tea as the smithy measured her wings. “Ok, now your family, they ever had problems flying?” he asked. She snickered at the question. “My folks are earth ponies, sister, too.” “Wow, you’re a rare throw back then. Grandparents?” “No, but I had great grandparents on both sides that were Pegasi.” Finishing up his notes, Swage drank from his tea. His eyes glassed over for a moment, thinking hard about the nature of the problem. “Stand in the circle there, let me run some tests.” She stood and stepped into the center of the room apprehensively. The little devices that littered the floor started coming to life, each one making some unique response to her presence. Swage paced around the circle checking each device, stopping to make notes on a few. “Flap your wings,” he requested. The little mare buzzed her wings like she would on her scooter, sending some of the loose paper in the room flying. The smithy made notes on the movement of one particular device. “That’s good.” He moved to another. “Now close your eyes and focus on the wind outside.” He bent closer to the little machine anticipating its movements. “What?” the filly blurted. Looking up from his machine “I need you to really focus on feeling the wind move.” Scootaloo blinked and scratched her head. “You’re not making any sense, we’re inside.” “I know the walls are thick but...” Something in Scootaloo’s eyes interrupted his train of thought. “You can’t feel the air move at all, can you?” The smithy’s eyes went sad again, but this was different, this was pity and not remorse. “Well of course I can feel the wind on my coat,” she mumbled, confused with the sudden change in mood. Swage shook his head. stepping forward he sat down bringing their eyes level. “Close your eyes,” he instructed. Her eyes closed, but the furrow on her brow said she was anything but relaxed. He touched the little spot of tension on her face. “Relax, lay down if you need too.” Taking a deep breath she laid down, not quite sure how to relax while sitting up. Swage felt a gust outside. Over the past eight years he had come to hate the feeling, but this time he smiled at the ensation. “There! you feel that?” She looked up at him with one eye, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling.” “The wind, moving your Pegasus blood. The wind in your soul that wants to join the breeze without.” Swage stopped himself, she was looking more confused with every word. This was just like when he first started trying to enchant. The hours he had spent trying to “see” and “feel” things he only had words for. Taking his own advice, Swage relaxed and took a seat near the filly. He spoke in a gentle, droning tone. “Close your eyes and breath. Big full breaths.” Pausing, he waited for her to fall into a rhythm of deep breaths. “Use your imagination to follow the air; in... out.” Repeating the in and out in time with her breath, he timed the command to slow her breathing, till she was in the trance state he was looking for. Slowly he continued. “Feel it move around your lungs, watch it leave your nose... Breath it back in... Feel the breath inside you, exhale. Feel the air in front of you move as you breath disturbs it...” Over the course of an hour he had lead her through the ancient breathing exercise till her mind’s eye followed the circulation of the air of the whole room. He was leading her through another cycle when he felt a strong gust baffle the outside of the building. Scootaloo’s eyes shot open in surprise; she gasped as her whole body twitched and convulsed as it was taken by a powerful itch that she could not reach. “What was that!” she yelled. The smithy burst out laughing. He had seen yearlings react to gusts like that before, but never a near grown filly. “That’s not funny, that... tickled” she said a bit indignant. Swage caught his breath and nodded. “I know it did!” “You mean you.. all Pegasi can feel that, all the time?” “Well, yea. It’s harder through these thick walls, though. Sorta why I got this place.” “How come nopony ever told me?” Her ears laid back as the wind picked up for a moment. She could still feel it. Not like the first time, but still somehow, she knew it was there. “Who would have? And besides would it ever occur to you to tell somepony about the sense of smell?” Swage said thoughtfully as he again took to tending his instruments. “Now, do it again, focus on the wind.” The machine before him rotated as the filly closed her eyes. The reading further reinforced the theory he had put together. Two days ago he would have been dumbfounded with this puzzle, but thanks to Twilight it was plain as day. “Ok, that’s fine, you can relax,” he said pulling his notes together. “Pegasi fly by wing and magic. It’s that same magic that lets us stand on clouds.” Scootaloo nodded as he spoke. She did know that much. Simple observation told you Pegasus wings weren’t big enough to allow flight, they worked in tandem with the magic of the Pegasus. Swage continued, “You have very weak Pegasus magic and your wings are not big enough to compensate. Unfortunately, at your age I don’t think they will ever be big enough to make up for the difference.” “So I’ll never fly?” she whimpered. His heart ached for the little filly. He found a lump in his throat as he spoke. He was ruffling the filly’s mane as the words left his mouth, “I can get you flying, I promise.” He had no idea where the words had come from. His mouth felt alien as they were spoken, but he had said them nonetheless. QuenchJourneyman: (1) One who has fully served an apprenticeship in a trade or craft and is a qualified worker in another's employ. (2) Middle English, from journey journey, a day's labor + man The wooden frame for the Apple’s plow had come in that morning. It was good workmanship. Swage was continually impressed at the talent that laid hidden in the little town. Now he took to assembling the contraption. He had made all the parts over the past few days, working smaller projects in between the stages of the large project. It was easy work from here out. He even thought about letting Scootaloo do it. Since their meeting, Scootaloo had made a habit of hanging out around the foundry when she didn’t have anywhere better to be, while Applebloom seemed to avoid the place. Which both confused and disappointed Swage. She took to the craft so well. He had hoped he had found his apprentice; which he was starting to need badly. The past weeks had afforded him little time for his research. The town seemed to have a never ending backlog of work for him. He had no illusions that Scootaloo would have a cutie mark in smithing of any kind, but he put her to work when she hung around nonetheless. Normally paying her by bringing dinner back to the shop. He found she did well with monotonous tasks. He had even let her have the job of punching the holes in the feathers for his wing. She ruined a few during the learning curve, it was worth it to him though. She would happily punch holes and chat, allowing him to do more productive work that paid the bills. They had also become something of hopeful flying-buddies. Swage telling stories of the things he used to do and the lessons he had learned, while she talked about all the things she planned on doing once airborne. “Uhh, I need to pick up an order” A sandy feminine voice called out from the far side of the workshop. Rainbow Dash stood at the counter. She had a pickup-ticked in hoof. Swage let out a nervous chuckle walking over to look at the ticket. He had met her at the party, but only in passing. “Are you picking up for somepony else?” he asked. More to fill the silence, already knowing the answer. “Yea, I’m here for the Apple’s new plow” Swage checked the ticket out of habit, it was the receipt for the plow. “Give me a second. I was just finishing that up” Swage gave every bolt one last torque before hefting the plow to the counter. Dash pulled a letter from under her wing and laid it on the table. “He said he still owed you the credits with Applejack.” She nudged at the heavy plow and scowled. “Now how the hay am I getting this back to his place?” A little crooked grin crept out on Swage’s face. “Hay Scoots! Get the cart and help Ms. Dash take this home. I’ll have a hot pie waiting for you when you get back.” Scootaloo took a moment to digest what had just happened. A slow nod was followed by a frantic scramble out of site. Faster than expected, she came around the building with the cart in tow. It was a small cart, but is still looked ridiculous being pulled by the filly. With the plow loaded, the smithy watched the two start the trek to the Apple farm. It would take a good hour before she was back. He knew he would be hearing about whatever conversation she and Dash had for the next week, if not longer. But now, it was dinner time. “I hope Granny Smith made her dumplings for the cart today” he said aloud. Hanging his “back in 5” sign on the door. Scootaloo hummed as she pranced back towards the shop with the empty cart in tow, it drummed loudly across the wooden bridge leading back to the market. The silence of the wheels hitting the dirt road was quickly pierced by an urgent “Pssst” calling from the shadow of a nearby building. She froze as a chesnut unicorn approached her from the shadow. He continually looked back towards the marker with apprehension. Her instinct was to run from the stallion, but a plaintive look in his eyes made pause and see if he needed help. “Who are you and what do you want?” she asked defensively. The unicorn seemed to realize his own awkwardness. He relaxed with a nervous chuckle. “O’ sorry, I’m Quench. Are you Swage’s apprentice?” Scootaloo tilted her head at the question. “No, I just hang around the shop.” Quench looked surprised at the answer “Idle hooves, make for Discord’s servants.” He said as almost a question Scootaloo giggled, “Yea, he says that a lot. Then gives me busy work.” She paused for a moment. “How’d you know that?” A hearty laugh rolled out of the unicorn “We spent a lot of years with the same Earth Pony.” The smile fled from his face as he looked again towards the market.. “So, is he staying busy? How’s his new wing coming along?” His whole body projected a deep concern for the smithy. Scootaloo fidgeted in her yoke for a moment. She didn’t feel threatened anymore, but the whole situation still struck her a strange. “He says that he had a big breakthrough with the wing, but he hasn't got to work on it. As for work” she let out a nervous giggle. “If nopony walked into his shop for three months, he’d still be working on what he has now.” A shadow crossed the fillies face and she dug at the dirt with a hoof. “He’ll never have time to work on... the wing.” Quench’s ears perked up as he spoke “Well now. Master quench has more work than he can handle. Lets go give him a hand shall we?” Turning towards the market he gestured for Scootaloo to follow him. She watched the stallion as they crossed the market together. His initial energy faded quickly, apprehension now played across his face. As they neared the shop he stopped, she thought he was about to run the other way for a moment, before he fixed himself with a look of convixion and continued. Scootaloo darted around back to put up the cart, leaving Quench standing just a few meters from the front door. With the cart in its place she let herself in through the back door, that let into the little kitchen. Just as promised there was a hot pie waiting for her on the table. Several half empty containers around it attested to Swage having already eaten his fill. She was just reaching for a plate of her own when the bell on the door announced a customer. Instead of the usual friendly banter she heard Swages voice echo with anger “GET OUT OF MY SHOP !” Running around the corner she looked into the shop to see what was happening. She found Swage standing stiff behind his tools, visibly suppressing the urge to throw something, and the unicorn just a inside the door with his ears and neck held low, in sad submission. A long awkward moment held before Quench broke the silence, still looking at the floor. “Swage, please, let me help you.” The Master smithy was quivering with anger. “No, I think you did enough last time you helped me.” The unicorn seemed to get his resolv back as he approached the smithy. “”Let me help out.” “No.” was the only response he got. “Fine, be that way.” Quench said before pulling himself into a formal posture and looking the Master smithy in the eye “Master Hammer, do you have a days work unfinished?” Swage’s eyes popped wide before turning into daggers. “Yes I do.” he hissed through his teeth “I am a Journeyman of the guild and seek a honest days work.” The unicorn’s words had a ritual cadence to them. The cadence was returned by the pegasus. “Then a days pay for a days labor brother” The last word rolled off his tongue like a curse. The unicorn held like a statue, while defeat played across Swage. The room lay silent for a moment till it was broken by the Master smith. “I open at seven. I expect my forge hot and my tools clean. Let yourself in. Till then Journeyman... GET OUT OF MY SHOP !” The unicorn gave a formal nod and a “Yes Master” before leaving quietly but quickly. Swage feigned to start back at his work. Picking a hammer up as if to see what the thing was, he looked at it and the forge a moment before putting it back and dousing the fire. There was some food left and he was going to have a second pass at it. As he turned the corner to the kitchen he found the little filly looking up at him. “What just happened?” she asked, worry clear in her eyes. “He invoked the right of the Journeyman. I can not deny him work if I have more than I can do myself.” he paused a moment, the answer looked to have sparked more questions than it answered. “Guild laws” he answered before she asked. “And please, lets leave it at that for tonight.” He walked past the filly into the kitchen “You want some pie?” MemoriesSwage plodded down the stairs that led from his bedroom to the kitchen. Reaching for a can of sweet oats, the smell of fresh coffee found him. Looking to the stove he saw a percolator steaming with a cup sat next to it. It struck him as a strangely affectionate sentiment. ‘Why Scootaloo would... No, it’s a school day and she wouldn’t let herself in...’ His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of movement in his shop, the memory of Quench came rushing back to him. He tried to block the thought form his mind, at the very least simply not acknowledge it till after breakfast. Testing the coffee with a tentative sip he sighed ‘Yep, just how I like it’ With two cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal in him he faced the doorless portal that led into the shop. He stood in the door for a moment as he surveyed his shop and decided he needed one more cup of coffee. Returning to the shop with cup in wing he made his way to where Quench sat quietly putting the finishing touches on several projects. He had no idea when the unicorn had gotten there, but it had to of been at least two hours ago. The room had been cleaned and all the shutters opened. His forge had a pile of red coals in it and he could tell all his tool had been rubbed in oil. Standing over the Journeyman he watched him work for a moment. The unicorn didn’t acknowledge his presence though, instead remaining engrossed in his work. “Journeyman,” the pegasus saluted coldy. Quench stopped his work and gave him full attention, but was met with silence. Swage’s gaze scanned the work station. Eventually he picked up a shovel that he had made a few days ago, but hadn’t had time to heat treat yet. The rich blue color of the steel told him Quench had already hardened and tempered it. Now it waited its turn with several other projects to be ground and polished to what ever finish they were destined for. Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything wrong with any of it. /// Quench patiently watched the smithy put the tool back where it had been and walk away wordlessly. It would take him a good two days to catch up on what Swage had already started, but he had looked at the Master’s work ledger; it would be weeks before he could fully catch up on all the work. His talent was in all the little things that needed to be done to metal after it had been shaped by fire and hammer, hardening and tempering in particular was his best topic. If he could get Swage to focus on what he did best and leave the finish work to him, his old friend would have the time and bits to focus on his wing. Of course, getting his old friend to speak to him again would be good too, but he wasn’t going to press that just yet. Today he would be nothing more than the best Journeyman he could be. There had been too many years of silence, guilt, and resentment, to fix in a day. He had forgiven himself, now he had to do what he could to set things right. /// Swage rubbed at his severed wing, it was aching again this morning. Reading over his work ledger, he took to planning out his day. A good deal of what he had intended to do was now in the care of the unicorn. Grabbing up tickets for work he had not yet even begun, he sat about starting his work day. Standing tall over his anvil, he pounded out a large piece of iron. He had pulled the tickets for some of the heavier work that he had been putting off. Yesterday they were big projects that he wasn’t sure how he was going to fold into the workload. Today they were something to keep his mind occupied. His entire world was the little bubble around his forge, consciously blocking out everything more than a few meters from him. As the Master smithy worked his bellows and anvil sighed and rang in an ancient rhythm. The same steady beat that has echoed through every foundry since ponies had learned the secrets of fire and metal. His body moved from memory, he didn't need to think about what he was doing, it was all reflexive. He was trying very hard not to think at all, he knew his emotions would get the better of him if he gave his mind any leash. A sound from outside his self imposed exile crept into his awareness. Between the sounds of the bellows and hammer her heard a chanty hum, something about it boiled his blood. He froze mid swing and glared at the unicorn in the corner. He was polishing something with an absent minded smile, like the glow of his expression would add the the brightness of the metal. /// The sudden silence of the smithy left Quench’s humming the only sound in the room. Startling at the sound of his own humming he looked up to see the smithy’s face screwed up with bitter emotions. The unicorn’s jaw slacked to say something, but instead he just looked back down to his work and continued working in silence. A small sigh of relief escaped him a moment later when the anvil started ringing again. Quench watched the Master out of the corner of his eye as he worked. The pegasus had a angry look, beating the metal more than working it. Most of what he has started that morning was finished and he had been quietly sneaking the pieces from Swage’s work space as he finished them. He intended to start in on them after lunchtime. The clock’s chime only reinforced what his stomach told him, it was in fact time for lunch. Swage for his part hadn’t acknowledged the time, or anything else, since he caught him humming some hours ago. Deciding it would be best if he just excused himself as descreatly as possible, he stood and meekly announced “Lunch, back in thirty.” to the room more than to Swage directly. Lunch had been a well deserved break. The little cafe around the corner had hot tea and cold sandwiches that were the perfect midday reset. Pausing a moment to brace himself before going back in, he opened the door and glided back inside. He was greeted with only the quickest and coldest look when he entered. Another piece sat finished by the forge and he was already well into another project. Scooping up the piece the by the forge as he returned to his corner, he added it to his own pile. Getting ready to start back at it, he took stock of all the things Swage had made that morning: two pans, a stock pot, three door hinges, door latch, an axe, a pitchfork, and various parts for somepony’s wagon. ‘Maybe this won't take two weeks to catch up’ he thought. He had heard stories about how, after they had let Swage out of the hospital, he would just work till he passed out, only to wake up and start working again. If Pigiron didn’t have work for him, he would just make something, melt it and make it again. Some said he had given his soul to the forge. He worked like the possessed and the metal moved before his hammer ever touched it. Now he knew they were right. His friends soul laid in the fire and he was going to pull it back out with his bare hooves. If only he knew how. /// At the end of the day Swage found himself alone in the shop with the unicorn. It had been a very long day. With the tools hung in their proper spots and the floor was swept, he went to his till and pulled out twenty bits. Tieing them off in a pouch he threw it at the unicorn, who caught it with his magics. “You have been paid for the day.” the pegasus announced. Quench gave a small nod “I will be here again in the morning Master Hammer.” “Of course you will.” Swage sighed dismissively as he turned his back and retreated into the kitchen. He waited for the sounds of the Journeyman leaving before collapsing onto a chair, exhausted mentally and physically. He needed to eat, he hadn’t eaten all day, but he wasn’t hungry. Instead he just laid his head on the table. Trying to relax he let out a big sigh, but his breath failed him, it shuddered out as his eyes went wet. Another deep breath and he was sobbing on his kitchen table. His mind far too fuzzy to even sort out where the outburst had come from. Scootaloo ploded her way through the center of Ponyville on her way home. The Crusader attempt today had been to throw a Pinky Pie style party. While it had turned into a fun evening, nopony had gotten a cutie mark for all their troubles. It’s was a little past the foundry’s closing time when she passed by. The lights were still on, on the ground floor. ‘He always shutters the place before retiring for the night, he must still be working on something.’ But as she approached, the shop is was eerily quiet. Looking through a window she found the workshop cold and empty. An uneasy feeling settled on her. Running around back she leaned up onto the kitchen door and looked in through its window. She could hear him even before she saw him. He sat with his forelegs cupping his head crying. It was a hard mournful cry and it paralyzed her. Forcing herself to move she stepped down from the door. She wanted badly to just run in there and try and cheer him up, but she knew the smithy better that that. Still, she had to do something. ‘I need to talk to Quench’ - - - The Ponyville Inn was a clean safe place, but still an odd place for a filly to wander into late in the day. The friendly looking Earth pony behind the desk greeted her as she approached “How can I help you?” “Is there a Unicorn named Quench staying here?” The clerk looked over a large book for a moment before giving it a nod. “Yes. Would you like me to send up a message to him? I’m afraid I can’t just give you his room number.” “Ugh, yea. Tell him Swage’s friend needs to ask him about something” Scootaloo found a quiet corner of the lobby to wait while the clerk trotted up the stairs. It was only a few moment until the Unicorn came back down with the clerk. He was clearly tired and his coat still had black stains from the day’s work. “Hello again” he chirped as he took a seat near her. “You said you were friends, but then he was angry when you showed up last night. Now, I go by the shop and find him crying.” She stopped not having asked a question, but clearly looking for answers. Quench shrank as he listened to her. “We... We were best friends. Grew up just a few houses apart in Canterlot. I was already in my third year of apprenticeship when he got his cutie mark and convinced my master to take him on too.” He paused and looked up from the floor to meet her gaze. “The next two years we lived like brothers. Slept in the same room, ate from the same table.. When I got my Journeyman licence, I stayed nearby. I was going to keep working there till he got his Journeyman. Then we were going to be wandering-Journeymen together, see every inch of Equestria. Hop from one foundry to the next learn everything we could.” His uneasy smile reminded Scootaloo of old stallions telling stories of days gone by. His eyes seemed far too old for the rest of his body. “So, what happened?” she asked. “Three months after I became a Journeyman... There was an accident. The accident. A lug pulled through a large sheet of metal. Swage was right underneath it when it fell. I did everything I could to keep it off him, but my horn cracked under the effort. It hurt. I just couldn’t power through the pain enough. If I could have pushed it just another foot...” As the unicorn’s words trailed off. She tried to imagine herself in a similar situation with the other Crusaders. “But, you still saved his life, didn’t you?” Letting out a long sigh he sank back into the cushions. “Yea. That’s what I tell myself anyway. But Swage... He blames me for the whole thing, and I did too. So, I took a job out west and left before he even got out of the hospital.” A clock’s chime told her she had to be getting home. Getting up to leave she met the unicorn’s eyes again. Still she thought of her two best friends, What would they have done? “Please, don’t give up on him.” She wished she could have said more, but it was all she come up with. Leaving the inn she made quick work of getting home. OutburstsThe Cutie Mark Crusaders were gathered in their clubhouse. The mornings had finally become warm enough to start their weekend brunches again, a chance to enjoy a meal with each other and talk calmly about the week. It was an idea they had taken from Rarity last summer. “You ok Scootaloo? You’ve been quiet today.” Applebloom asked. “Yea, just thinking.” Scootaloo replied. The previous night’s conversation at the inn still haunted her. Her face betrayed her concentration as she put together a question in her mind. “If something bad ever happened... really bad, to either of you, and I was there but couldn't stop it, would you forgive me?” The sudden seriousness of Scootaloo’s question caught the other two off guard. Applebloom spoke up first “Sometimes bad things just happen and you can’t always stop them Scootaloo. There’d be nothing to forgive.” “But what if it cost you your horn Sweetie Belle, or a leg Applebloom?” Sweetie Belle reached across and place a hoof on Scootaloo “Then I would need you more than ever to help me adjust to my new life.” Applebloom gave a nod of agreement to the statement. A little tear in the Pegasus’ eye quickly invoked a group hug. “Whatever got you thinkin' such morbid thoughts?” Applebloom asked. “I met one of Swages old friends the other day. Learned some personal things he probably wouldn’t like me sharing. But, l feel really bad for him now.” She let out a sigh of resignation “I want to help... but I just don’t know how.” “I know I’d feel better just having somepony that cared around. It’d be horrible to be hurt and alone.” Sweetie Belle commented. Applebloom again agreed with her friend “Maybe you should spend the day with him.” “I thought we were going to go crusading today.” The pegasus asked. Her tone was of one seeking permission. “We've still got tomorrow, and besides there’s only a week of school left. Then we’ll have all the time in the world” Sweetie Belle assured her. Scootaloo couldn’t believe they were encouraging her to go help another friend at the expense of a day of looking for their cutie marks.“Really? You’re ok with me ditching, to help at the shop?” “I’d be disappointed in you if you didn’t.” Applebloom chided. Scootaloo sat back down and picked at the meal. A moment of thought set her resolve and a smile grew on her face. “Thanks girls, you’re amazing friends.” With the meal returning as the center of attention the conversation turned back to lighter fare. It was a little after noon when she walked into the market district. She was heading towards the shop when Quench caught her eye. He was sitting a table eating a sandwich, he looked tired. “Rough day already?” she asked. “Hay Scootaloo!” The unicorn greeted her. “Yea, tiring anyway. What brings you around?” She took a seat at his table. “I was going to help around the shop today... Swage on his lunch too?” “I doubt it. I wish he would eat better than he does” The Unicorn sighed. Scootaloo scowled at the idea of Swage going hungry all day. “I’ll bring him some food then.” Hopping down she started to trot off, but was interrupted when the Unicorn rested a Hoof on her withers. Holding a small stack of bits he pressed them into her hooves. “Take this. He’d never take food from me, but I can still pay for it” He said with an earnest smile. “Thanks” she said returning the smile. She decided to get him something he could eat while working, that way he couldn’t protest the food with the excuse of ‘no time to stop and eat’. The puffy fried vegetable stand fit the bill, and better yet there was no line for it. Walking up to the stand she was greeted by the friendly cook. “Can I get two medium orders and two cold teas, and make the vegetables mostly sweet potatoes” She asked placing Quench’s bits on the counter. The food was all good here, but the batter fried sweet potatoes were main reason why ponies eat here. “Sure thing.” the cook said, already dropping the order in the hot oil. The bell on the door ringed out her presence as she entered the shop. Swage gave her the barest of a nod and smile as acknowledgement of her appearance. He was talking to Mr. Cake. She didn’t listen to the conversation, but the tied together stack of pans told her he was picking up his order from the other week. If she remembered correctly, that was on the books to be done early next week. ‘He’s ahead of schedule’. She quietly examined some half-finished projects while she waited for them to wrap up their business. When Mr. Cake proudly trotted out of the shop with his new purchase, she went behind the counter and sat down the bag of food next to the smithy; he was already back at work on something. “I brought you lunch” she chimed out. “I need to finish this” was his only reply. She smiled as she laid the paper cone and drink on a counter near him. “I know, That’s why I picked up snack bits” The smithy eyed the food but didn’t stop working. “What is that?” “It’s batter fried veggies. They use cold batter though, so it puffs up all crunchy” Taking her own serving out she popped one in her mouth and smiled as she chewed. “Try them, the sweet potatoes are the best.” She gave the smithy space, taking her food and drink over to the writing desk to sit. A satisfied grin spread across her face when, between pulls of the bellows, he reached for the paper cone and popped a morsel in his mouth. “Mmm, those are good,” he commented. She guessed that the first bite had awakened his appetite, because soon he worked stealing bites of food and sips of tea into the rhythm of his work. “Thanks for bringing me lunch,” he said turning to look at her. It was the first thing he had said since commenting on the first taste. She was taking their trash up when the door rang again. Before she could see who it was, Swage moaned a deep but brief “Ugh.” Quench took to his work station in the corner like a ghost. She watched Swage’s mood change. He had loosened up but was again withdrawn. Deciding to join the silence for now, she returned the the writing desk and looked over his work log. She had learned the ins and outs of his book keeping over the past few weeks. The desk was badly out of sorts. She did her best to channel Twilight for the better part of an hour, sorting, alphabetising, and arranging by date. She had just finished her self-appointed project when Swage’s voice broke the silence. “Scootaloo give me a hoof over here for a second.” She found Swage wrangling several large objects at once. “Ok. How?” she asked a bit confused. “I need both hooves to hold the tongs for this, so I need you to hit it with that sleg.” Scootaloo looked at the sleg he had mentioned. It stood twice her height and the head looked to weigh half as much as her. She let out a spritely laugh at the mere idea of her lifting it, let alone shaping hot iron with it. Swage was busy with the tongs in the fire when she laughed. The look he gave her told her that he was serious. “You’ve lost your mind if you think I can swing that thing.” she said with a laugh still in her throat. The smithy let out a nervous chuckle “I suppose you’re right” ‘This is something Quench should be doing. Why didn’t he ask him?’ she thought “I got it.” the unicorn announced from behind her. A blue field of magic enveloped the sleg, as if answer question. “It’ll be just like old times.” Trying her best to not be under hoof, she watched Quench. He had a jovial grin as he readied the massive hammer. The smile was ripped from his face though when the Master smithy barked at him “Get back to you station Journeyman.” Not even looking at him as he spoke. She could tell Quench was hurt by the command. She thought he was going to shrink back to his corner, but he surprised her. He stepped a little close to the Pegasus “Swage, You’re not going to be able to do that by yourself.” “I’ll figure it out” He rebuffed. Still bothering with the forge and the metal heating inside it. “Swage! Just let him help you” She chided. “I don’t need his help again. Last time he tried to help me I lost a wing” The smithy spitted bitterly only half turning towards them. Quench looked like he had been struck. He stumbled closer the the Pegasus as the sleg he had been floating tumbled to the ground. “I did the best I could, I saved your life.” he stammered. “Nopony could have known that lug would pull through.” The good wing brushed the Unicorn away “Yea, saved my life” Scootaloo looked away and fidgeted a moment before delivering a glare to the belligerent pegasus. “SWAGE! He did everything he could, and he was you best friend!” Anger boiled in his throat “I KNOW! And he was my best friend...” The rigid smithy wilted, all but collapsing onto the floor. His voice cracked and barely whispered “That’s why he should have known to let me die.” Whatever will was holding up, left him with those words. Her jaw dropped at the confession, she thought poor Quench was going to faint for a moment. Swage looked absolutely deflated. “HORSEAPPLES!” Scootaloo yelled. The vulgar outburst from the filly made her the focus of both the stallions. “What the hay is going on here, that a blank-flank filly has to be the adult!” She glared from one stallion to the next, Letting out an irritated nicker between them. “You!” pointing to the Unicorn “You left your best friend when he needed you the most.” Quench shrank away from the berating, the sad lines on his face growing deeper. She turned her frosty glare down on the Pegasus “And you thought he should have let you die. What kind of nonsense is that?” A spark of anger perked Swage up as he poised to speak. Before the first sound left his lips he was cut off by the filly. “Oh, but I’ll never fly again,” she sang, thick with sarcasm. “Ya know what? I’ve never flown, and I’m doing fine!” The anger left his face with the verbal blow and shame found its way into the Pegasus’s heart. He had promised to help her fly, but he had given up on both their dreams just to sulk. She had to stop and breath. “Get your act together, both of you. I’m going home. Let me know when I can find some adults in here.” /// Swage and Quench both watched as the little fireball stormed out of the building. “You find some scary fillies Swage.” the Unicorn said flatly after the door closed. “You’re not still mad about the one I brought over to your apartment are you?” Swage asked. “You mean the one you bucked in my living room or the one that ripped the door off the bathroom?” “Same mare” “I lost my deposit over the door” the two shared a chuckle for a moment before the Unicorn spoke up again. “I’m sorry I ran away.” “You didn’t run away. I chased you away.” Swage dug at the stone floor with a hoof. “You did the best you could, and I just blamed you for the whole thing. I was a coward, wishing you had killed me when I didn't have the courage to do it myself.” "Swage! It took courage to live." Quench rebuked."You're strong, stronger than most." The Unicorn reach out to the hoof picking at the floor and was surprised when it didn’t retreat. “I, I could have tried harder. If I had just pushed it a little differently.” Quench watched his hoof as it was gently covered by another. Swage’s voice cracked as it found the will to speak. “And maybe it would have taken my fool head off. How would you have lived with that? You did the best you could and what happened, happened.” “Still, I should have been there for you.” Quench protested. Swage laughed softly. “Be glad you weren’t. I was a jerk for a few years. I’m sure Pigiron would have kicked me out, if he hadn’t felt guilty about the accident.” “You’re still a jerk” The unicorn commented. “I know.” Swage looked everywhere but at the unicorn, this time not because of anger but embarrassment. “So you going to stop feeling bad for me?” “Only if you let me help you.” MomentsTwo earth ponies walked through the market with Scootaloo between them. The orange and blond stallion wore an old green canvas jacket covered in buttons and patches. His mane long and unkempt framed an unfocused and happy gaze. The mare’s coat was purple and her mane made the relationship to Scootaloo unmistakable. She was toned and walked with a confident focus, her mane styled short and slightly spiked. Each of the three ponies had saddlebags in various stages of being filled from the weekly ‘family trip to the market’. Scootaloo was still a bit irritated, but she was really trying to make the best of the day. When their foray into the market brought them near the foundry, powerful blows emanating from it begged for their attention. The three gazed curiously at the stone building, though each for a different reason. “O, Hay! That’s where you been hanging out right?” The stallion asked A sigh gave away her feelings on the subject. “Yea. Dad.” The mare perked up at the comment. “If you’re going to be hanging out with grown stallions, I want to meet them.” The matriarch declared as she made a straight line for the old building. The rest of the family followed her as if attached by strings. Scootaloo didn’t want to come right out and say she was mad at the two idiot smithies, so she had to just play along with their curiosity. As they approached the shop they all paused. Between the blows, or rather in rhyme with them, a song was echoing from inside the building. “The hammer sings, through the anvil’s sharp ring, so come boy and ring your anvil. A bellows sighs, never tells lies, and it’s breath sets embers a glowing. The iron that glows, throws sparks from you blows, so come boy and swing your hammer. Dose any colt know where Celestia’s love goes, when fire and sun both burn you. Let the sweat on your brow, hiss on your steel, so come boy work your iron.” Scootaloo and her mom traded confused looks while her dad swayed his head to the slow folksy tune. “Reminds me of a Light Hoof song. I should have brought my guitar,” he commented before opening the door. The bell interrupted the song abruptly, leaving a scene that made Scootaloo rub her eyes in disbelief. The two smithies were facing each other with the anvil between them and Quench had the massive hammer floating in the air. They were both grinning like idiots, and the shop was a wreck. It looked like a bachelor pad, work and food wrappers strewn everywhere. Swage crammed something back into the fire before addressing the family. “Hey, Scootaloo. These your parents I’ve heard so little about?” Her dad took to investigating the room while she and her mother approached the counter. “Ugh, yea. This is my mom Wild Oats and that’s my dad Granola.” “We run the Barley and Oats sweet-feed mill,” her mom interjected. Standing just across the counter from the smithy, she was examining the room with casual precision. /// Swage perked up at the comment “Really? I love your barley and sorghum breakfast blend.” “Aww, thanks dude, I worked really hard on that one.” Granola replied from the far side of the shop. He was wandering about the room like a balloon. Occasionally being waved away from something dangerous by his daughter. Swage fidgeted under the presence of Scootaloo’s mother. She took her fashion cue from the bygone punk movement. The combined hard muscle of the Earth pony and the lanky frame of her recessive Pegasus heritage, gave her a powerful presence. He bet that ten years ago she would have been called cocky, age had tempered it down to just predatory confidence. “Please tell me it is not normally this messy in here.” She said, not really a question. The Pegasus looked around as if just realizing the state of the room. “Yea, It’s normally a lot cleaner. We sorta pulled an allnighter.” The expression on Wild Oats softened a bit as she replied with an “Oh.” She seemed to take that as a perfectly acceptable excuse. He jolted as one of the many conversations Quench and he had over the night, came back to him “Mrs. Oats, I actually have something to ask you.” He received a calculating stare from her when he paused after the preface. Continuing under the glare he asked. “Would it be ok with you, if I offered your daughter a summer job. I’ll give her three bits an hour and I’d like to have her work four hours a day, with weekends off... As soon as school lets out of course.“ She turned with a playful smirk towards her daughter “Scoots, your call. You want to work the mill with you dad for your normal allowance this summer, or in here for money. Either way I’m making you do something over the summer.” The filly cocked an eyebrow at the question. “Ugh, He pays more.” “Yep.” her mother agreed “But that also means you start paying for your own entertainment and food when you’re out with your friends. Also we’re going to sit down and talk about how adults handle their money.” The smithy felt a bit bad for Granola. He looked like an abandoned puppy all of a sudden. It didn’t go unnoticed by Scootaloo ether. The two had a quiet conversation in the corner that ended with smiles and hugs. “I’m in. I’ll start next Monday,” the filly announced. Swage smiled at the answer “Great! ‘Till then, get out of here and go do something fun.” “Did you turn the desk upside down and shake it!?” Scootaloo asked with indignation. It was her first day on the clock. She had decided to start with the last thing she had done, which was organize the writing desk. What she had assumed would be an easy re-straightening, was instead going to take up the first half of her day. An air between the two stallions told her she wasn’t going to get an answer. The rest of the shop was clean but cluttered. It was the sort of clutter that spoke of a full workload that was steadily being completed. “Here’s to getting a cutie mark in bookkeeping.” she sighed as she took to putting the paperwork back in order. Swage stifled a snicker at the fillies ranting. His talent was fire and metal, not bookkeeping; that was just a necessary evil and one that he had never had to deal with till recently. It had been a good first day. She was surprised how many little tasks could pile up around the shop. Her last chore of the day was to bring lunch back to the shop. She had been given five bits with directions; two double-daisy burgers and hay-fries, no drinks, and keep the change. It had come to four bits, so she just held on to the last bit. She knew the girls would want to eat when they met up in an hour. Letting herself in through the back door she placed the food on the kitchen table. “Food’s here” she announced to the room, not seeing anypony when she entered. Quench’s head appeared out of the door to the study. “Thanks! Before you head out for the day you should see this.” He motioned anxiously to her. “We’ve been working on it in the evenings.” When she entered the familiar room she was shocked into wide-eyed wonder. Swage was sitting with his eyes closed, the picture of introspected concentration. The skeletal wing was perched on his back, it mirrored the slow deliberate movements of the other wing “WOW!” she exclaimed. The Pegasus’ eyes sprung open with a smile when he heard her. Though he gave a little wince at the sound of the apparatus hitting the ground. “Still a long way to go” he commented at the lifeless frame now crumpled on the floor. “Unfortunately I haven’t made much headway with your problem” he said looking over to Scootaloo as she browsed the room. “I’m sure you’ll think of something” she casually replied as she picked up two shining brass almost-rings off the floor, each lacked a small bit of metal from their circumference. “What are these?” she asked. “Scrap. An experiment that didn’t pan out,” Swage responded. “Can I have them?” She asked with a foal’s energy. “Sure.” Without hesitation she contorted herself with wings stretched out and gently forced the makeshift bangles onto the base of her wings. The shining yellow metal rings swung and danced on the limbs as she flexed them to test the fit. “How’s it look?” she asked “Very pretty.” Quench replied. “Sweet! Well, I’m out of here. See you tomorrow,” and with that she made quick work of leaving to go find the other crusaders. “Hot date in an hour! Need to go get a shower. I’ll see you in the morning.” The Unicorn bolted out as he finished his end of the day routine. The clock had rang five just a few moments before. “If you’re late I expect a good story.” was the only response Swage gave him, he was still in the middle of shutting down for the day. “What poor mare...” he pondered out loud after the door had closed. ‘Tools up, fire cold,’ he began the final check list, ‘anvil cleaned, floors... ehh I’ll leave that for Scootaloo’ Satisfied that everything was put right, he exited the building himself. It was out for a relaxing meal, then he would spend the rest of the night working on the wing. With his meal tray in mouth he looked for a tree to sit under and enjoy his dinner. Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Looking towards it reflexively, he saw the hulking red stallion Big Macintosh waving at him. Rainbow Dash was sitting across from him “Come sit with us.” she called. Turning in place he made his way to the large table. “Thanks” he said once the tray left his mouth. “How’s that plow treating you?” he asked looking towards the stallion. The response came from Dash in the form of a sharp laugh. “He treats the thing like a yearling. Cleans it, Oil’s it, and puts it to bed.” “What? I want to keep it nice.” Mac responded between bites of his meal. /// Rainbow Dash studied the pegasus. He smiled when he talked, his and Mac’s conversation was light hearted stallion banter. But the moments of silence where he was left to his own thoughts an air of melancholy settled around him. She had no desire to even imagine what losing a wing would be like. Though she knew he was lucky to have a special talent that had nothing to do with flying. That was probably what had kept him alive. It was about half way through the meal the she realized he always kept his head pointed down, just a little. “How come you're always looking at the ground?” she asked, the thought that it might be rude only dawning on her after the fact. “Clouds,” he meeked out between mouthfuls. “Can’t stand to look at them.” “What?” jumped out of her throat. Bringing her hooves up as if the cram the word back, she stammered “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t ask.” “It’s strange I know. But there is what I miss the most.” He pushed the scraps of his meal away and slowly looked up at a distant cloud. “I still played cloud-fort games when others my age wouldn’t be caught dead acting so silly.” “It’s like the games foals play in the deep snow.” Dash answered Mac’s unvoiced question. “But way more fun” Swage added on. “I haven’t touched one since the day of the accident.” A sigh punctuated the memory. “Really!?” retorted the Pegasus mare, only to vanished into a chromatic streak. Swage was a bit startled by the sudden disappearance, but Mac just gave him a shrug that said ‘she does that sometimes’ /// He had very nearly convinced Mac it was time for a new set of horseshoes when the earth pony gave a quizzical look to something behind him. He turned casually in his seat to see what was there. The wall of white that met him sent him tumbling out of his chair. It was then that he realized it was a cloud. Dash sat atop the white puff. “Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckled. Though, he was a little doubtful about that. Standing up he was unable to take his eyes off the cloud. He hadn't been this close to one since he last flew. He could have gotten a ride to Cloudsdale anytime, but never had. Early on he had avoided the trip because of how easy it was... to just walk off. Later he had resented everything the place stood for. Finally he had decided not to go back ‘till he could fly their himself. Dash watched the smithy from atop the cloud, it was about twice the size of a wagon. She couldn’t help but grin when she saw the smile on his face and wing flutter. He placed a hoof on it a concentrated a bit, soon the cloud gave way and started reshaping to his will. He was a natural cloud handler. She was a little jealous that she didn’t have him on her weather team. A moment later his head popped out of the cloud near her hooves. His grin reminded her a bit too much of the one she wielded right before a prank... The cloud beneath her opened like a mouth and closed again just as fast, leaving just her head sticking out of the cloud. They both snickered like foals for a moment before Dash extracted herself. Flying back to the ground she rejoined Mac. “Have fun, Don’t get it higher than you’re willing to fall. We’ve got errands, but I’ll see you around.” and with that the two left him with his cloud. ‘Hmm cloud surfing. I hadn’t even thought of that.’ He gave his wing a hard flap; the first one in years. His flight muscles burned with the effort, the cloud moved just a bit, he smiled a death’s-head grin. Scootaloo had spent the afternoon with the girls planting trees. Applebloom’s sister’s idea of getting a cutie mark in arbory had sounded good, but she suspected that they had just been tricked into farm work. She was about halfway home when something cool and moist struck her hard enough to knock her over. It was like she had bit hit with a cold pillow. Standing back up she found a mysterious cloud floating just a few meters above the ground. Another white puff ball flew out of the cloud at her. She managed to dodge that one. Suddenly rolling laughter bellowed out from the center of the cloud. She almost fell over again when Swage appeared on top of the thing. “How’d you...” Scootaloo stammered. “Rainbow Dash pulled it down for me” He answered the half finished question. With a lopsided flutter he pushed the cloud to the ground. “Hop on!” he beckoned. “Uhh, how?” she hesitated. Swage was honestly stumped by the question. “You just press into it...” There was a bit more than that to cloud shaping, but for the life of him he could find no words for it. He watched as the filly tentatively touched the cloud then leaned into it. It was an elastic but firm barrier that thwarted her best efforts to climb its sheer sides. “You've never shaped clouds either have you?” “I play with fog and the little ones that wander low sometimes...” Swage stomped on the cloud sending shards of vapor into the evening sky, quickly making a ramp for her to get to the top of the cloud. /// Scootaloo was surprised at how firm the cloud felt. After she had gotten on top, Swage had pushed it back into the air, if not by just a few meters. “This is so cool!” she exclaimed. “Remember how I got you to feel the wind?” Swage asked. “Sorta do the same thing with the cloud.” She watched him run his hoof into the vapor and pull the surface into an abstract shape. Following suit she jabbed her hoof at the cloud, trying to pierce the surface but found it solid. “You're moving a cloud, not squashing a spider; move slow, think fluffy thoughts” the elder Pegasus lectured. Trying again she laid a hoof on the surface and imagined it being enveloped; to her surprise that’s exactly what happened. Once she had immersed into the vapor, she found it like shaping pudding. “Very good,” Swage congratulated her. She had just started to really get the hang of shaping the cloud when she realized the sun was setting. “Pony feathers! I need to get home.” She blurted out with a mildly frantic look. “It’s going to be dark before I get to the house.” “Why, it’s just a few kilometers isn’t it”? He asked in earnest. “It’ll take me half an hour to walk that!” Swage pushed a lump of cloud towards her “Cloud surf” While she hadn’t heard the term before she knew what he was suggesting. She had seen Rainbow Dash drive clouds around when she was too tired to actually fly. She supposed it wouldn’t be much different than her scooter. Leaping onto the torn free chunk of cloud he had offered, she buzzed her wings. The thing took off with a streak and seemingly indiscriminate in its direction; reflexively she clutched at the vapor, startled by her own acceleration. With a few wild starts she finally got the hang of aiming the thing. After that it only took a few minutes to get to her doorstep, the sun had not yet disappeared from the sky. /// Swage watched with something of a father’s pride as the filly careened into the dusky night. The rings she had put on her wings rang wildly as they beat against each other. The staccato beat stirred something in the depths of his mind. He had an idea and just maybe the answer to her problem. But, he would work on that tomorrow. Till then he was going to enjoy his toy while it lasted, it would be gone soon enough. With easy lopsided flaps he guided his plaything back towards the shop. He was going to sleep on a cloud tonight. Dreams and PromisesIt is not the words that matter, they evoke emotions; emotions bring intent It is not the movements that matter, they evoke the soul; the soul brings purpose It is not the materials that matter, they evoke the mind; the mind brings reason Scootaloo pushed the shop door open, it was the start of another four hour day. It was work, but it was fun and she liked having a little money to call her own. “Hi Scoots,” Swage greeted her as the door closed behind her. He had started using the family nickname a few weeks ago. Ever since the day with the cloud, he had been riding a manic high. He spent untold hours in his study working out his ‘new theory’. Much to the detriment of his sleep. He looked to be in a good mood. But, she doubted he got more that a few hours of sleep last night. Her efforts to convince him to pace himself were all rebuked with variations of “I’m too close. This can answer both our problems!” “Where’s Quench?” she asked, realizing the the Unicorn was absent from the room. “How’s the research going?” The smithy put down his work and dusted himself off a bit, “He took the cart down to the train station, picking up an order of bar-stock that came in.” Walking towards the study, he beckoned for her to follow him. “I’m making progress. Quench has been a lot of help. I can’t actually see the magic like a Unicorn can.” Scootaloo trailed into the arcane workspace that the enchanter used, it still gave her a sense of awe being in the room. She realized the Crusaders had not tried enchanting yet, or any ritual magic. Wondering what a cutie mark in such arts would look like she looked to Swage’s. It was such a simple one, yet rather expressive; a flying anvil. “Your cutie mark is in enchanting, right?” she blurted out in a sudden change of topic. The smithy blinked at the question. Looking at his flank as if expecting the answer to be written there. “No, actually.” Ignoring the confused look from the filly he walked over to a bookshelf. He gently took up a well-loved teapot in his mouth and presented it to her. “I got my cutie mark making this.” he said proudly. “You’re special talent is making teapots?” she exclaimed. The smithy laughed at the filly's balk. “White-smithing. Which yes, includes making teapots, cups, plates, pots, pans. Anything made from copper, tin, or silver sheet.” “Really?” the filly held the confused look. “Then how’d you end up learning enchanting?” “Desperation.” the smithy sighed. “I knew I could hone my talent enough to be able to make a metal wing both strong and light enough to work. But I needed magic to animate it. So, I taught myself ritual enchanting. I just thought of it like cloud shaping, but with metal.” “So you were a natural at it?” she beamed. “No,” Swage chuckled, “I was horrible. But I practiced for hours every day. I tried to add some minor enhancement to everything I made.” The filly lit up with an optimism that only foals can express. “Can you teach me how to do magic?” Even if it wasn’t to be her special talent, it would be really cool the know a little magic. “I don’t know” the enchanter blurted with a surprised look. “I’ve never tried to teach that. But what the hay, let me finish up a few things and I’ll walk you through it.” Scootaloo danced a little circle, chanting “Yesyesyes.” “But first” Swage interrupted her, placing a hoof in her head. “I need to take a few measurements from you. Go stand in the middle of the room like you did the first day.” Several esoteric devices were positioned around her, after she took her position. “Just relax. Don’t focus on anything particular, and let me know if you feel anything.” he instructed. It was hard to be bored while all the devices clicked and whined around her. Swage’s constant attention to them was no less interesting. She had just noticed his attention rhythmically switching between herself and a new device, when a shiver ran down her spine. It was that, still new, sensation of feeling the wind. She had learned to tune into the scene over the past weeks, but this had come to her unbidden. Her body twitched a bit at the sensation. She was about to say something, but Swage had seen her reaction. “Good.” he mused. He made a few notes before disengaging the devices. “All right. we’re done in here.” Leading her to the forge, the smithy stopped and considered his student. “Can you dance?” he asked. “Ugh... yea,” the filly responded “Why?” “Enchanting, or ritual magic, the kind of magic that any pony can do; it’s like dancing. The oldest Pegasus and Earth pony magic was done through dancing you know.” The Swage picked up a small hammer and mimed the basic motions of his craft. “It’s you, the tool, and the piece you’re working on. Nothing else exists, and you have to blur the lines between the three. the tool is not an extension of yourself: it is just you.” Trading the hammer for some tongs he plucked up a half finished pot and examined it. “Love the thing you are working on like you would a dance partner; feel it, move with it.” “Ok, but how do you actually make the spell?” the filly asked Swage paused at the question. It was a good one and he didn’t have the answer. “By, force of will?” was the best response he could give her. It just occurred to him that there was too much of a knowledge gap between them for him to be a useful instructor on this topic. She either needed to be a passable smith or already familiar with ritual magic. She was neither and that robbed him of all his vocabulary. With little smirk he placed the pot back in its resting place. “You’re meeting the crusaders after work today right?” An excited little nod confirmed the answer to his question. “I have an idea for all of you then. Go to to the library and ask for some books on ancient Earth pony and Pegasus dancing magic. Twilight will know what you’re looking for. A little orange ball of specially alloyed gold and copper hovered about Swage. It shined in the light of lantern and magic. Dancing about the Smithy’s body, a careful eye could find a pattern in its movement. It held in the position where the elbow of the missing wing should be. Swage’s air of concentration slowly faded into one of curiosity. Looking back at the golden mote, he gave it a satisfied grin as it’s movement blurred through a tight arc. Bringing a hoof up to it, he tugged at the orb. He’s whole body shuddered as sensation echoed through the invisible limb; the ball was firmly stuck within the ghost of his long lost wing. A giddy smile streaked across his face. Needing one more good test he approached a wall and smacked the ball against it as hard as he could. “Ahh! Horseapples!” he yelped. Reflexively he cupped the orb in a hoof. Pain radiated from what had been eternal numbness. But, his little test was still there, still firmly in place. The door next to him flung open “You alright!?” Quench blurted way too loud. “Yes, yes, I’m fine” Swage grumbled. The little orb drifted in front of Quench’s face. “What this?” He asked slipping into his sixth sense. He found the enchanted mote lodged in the knuckle of the phantom limb. A subtle energy resonated between it and the wing itself. “Did you make a breakthrough?” “Nope!” the Pegasus chirped. He gave a little grin at the Unicorn’s sudden confused look. “Solved it!” he declared, raising a hoof to his friend, invoking a hoof bump. “What? How?” Quench stammered through a grin. “I was working on Scootaloo’s problem, when I realized we really had the same problem” the enchanter commented as he made a few notes on the wall turned blackboard. “But, I’ll give you the full theory later. First let me turn this thing off.” The unicorn again slipped into his other-sight to watch his Master work. While he had seen the unorthodox method of thaumaturgy, he still didn’t fully understand how he did it. He knew it took a lot out of him though. While ritual enchanting was something Swage could do all day, he could only cast one or two spells before needing to rest. One of the first thing Swage had gotten him to do, after their reconciliation, was to learn the spells that had made up the second half of several of his products. The enchanter took his poise of concentration to gather his inner magic. Quench noticed that his phantom limb was already glowing brighter than it normally did in its resting state. Though, that was expected with the magical-active object woven into it. Swage focused his will into the missing limb, but it did not deform onto the grasping claw that the enchanter did his work with. Fidgeting a bit, he poured more magic into the wing. Quench was sure it was glowing even to normal sight now. Still, It’s shape held fast. The enchanter broke his focus and looked at the Unicorn with a bit of panic “I can’t use my magic!” He felt claustrophobic all of a sudden. He had been able to peel away that stranger part of his self for so many years, now it was again trapped in physical bonds. “Quench, see what you can do.” Lighting up his horn, he delved into the aura of the enchanted device. It was more complex than he expected. While he knew theory on enhancing, both ritual and spell based, it was never a focus of his studies. He was a quick learner, but he just hadn’t had time to practice. With a gentle thought, he tried to pull the spell thread out of the orb, but let the effort slip when the pegasus yelped in pain. Quench shook his head and stepped back from the enchanter. “I’m just not familiar with this spell,” he warned. “Watch the shop. I’ll be back in a bit. Just tell Scootaloo that I’m running errands when she comes in.” the Pegasus moaned. Swage wandered into the library, looking for Twilight. If anypony could get this thing off him, it was her. “Hi, Swage,” the librarian called out as he entered the room. “Anything I can help with?” Sinking into a defeated sigh, he moved the invisible wing so as the golden mote levitated above his head. “I’ve got a problem” Twilight perked up at the sight of the enchanted ball. “What’s that?” she asked “It’s stuck,” he complained as he rummaged through his saddlebag, producing a stack of notes. “Here’s my theory so far. I wanted to do a test run. It worked, but now I can’t separate my magic from my soft body. I’m trapped.” He gave the invisible wing a flap to illustrate the point. Taking up the notes in her magic she gave them a quick once over, intending to properly study them in a moment. Turning her attention to the enchanter, she bared down the full weight of her magical scenes on the little object; Swage felt his body tingle as her magic enveloped him. After an intensive investigation of the device and it’s notes, the Unicorn laid down a reference book that she had conscripted. “That’s quite a piece of work you got there” Twilight chimed. “Why can’t I use my magic? Thanks.” he casually scanned one of the books she had brought over during the examination. “Because that little thing is doing what you designed it to do” she replied. “It’s doing the same thing your flesh did. Holding your soft body into a defined shape.” Swage blinked, lost in thought for a moment. “Oh wow. I didn’t think of that.” Taking the offending ball in hoof he pondered it for a moment before letting out a nervous laugh. “I’ll still be able to do ritual enchanting.” Swage paused a moment. His unique brand of spell casting was not his special talent; it was a hard-earned victory over his disability. ”But, once I have my wing back, I’ll never cast another spell.” Pausing again he gave Twilight a meek look “You can get this off... Right?” Twilight gave him a confidant nod, “Yep.” Lavender energy gathered around her horn before reaching out to the target. Swage’s skin crawled at the strange sensations before hearing the metal orb hit the floor. He looked down at it to find it slowly rolling away from him. It suddenly struck him as rather morbid. Placing a hoof on it he arrested it’s movement and pondered the object for a moment. The Pegasus rolled the artifact towards his rescuer. “Keep that and the notes if you want to study them for a bit. I owe you” Swage chewed his words for a moment. “You know, I spent years learning to shape spells, so that I could get my wing back. Now, I’m a little sad to know I’ll be losing some of my magic for the wing.” “Swage,” the Unicorn prefaced, she was reading his notes and had a tone and posture that tattled on her years spent in the tutelage of the Princess. “I don’t think you really understand what you’ve done here.” Her voice trailed a bit as she read over the stack of papers again. “You can help ponies, a lot of ponies with this. If you can replace your wing, you can replace other’s wings, legs too. And with a little work, this could be modified for Unicorns and Earth ponies.” The unicorn’s words staggered him for a moment. He had never thought past the moment when he would affix the metal surrogate to his severed stump. She was right though. This was bigger than him now. “My notes. I’ll publish my notes. Others can play healer. I’m just a smithy.” The librarian gave him a motherly smile. “This is uniquely yours Swage. I could cast the spell portion, but it would take years for me to learn the ritual techniques you use to prepare the materials.” “I learned at the hooves of far better enchanters than I. They could easily do this.” he rebutted. Twilight held the firm but caring demeanor. “And it would take them years to learn the spell shaping portion required.” She laid a hoof on the visibly troubled enchanter. “I’m not asking you to give up on your dream. Just think about how you can do the greatest good.” “Quench!” he blurted with a crooked smile. Earning him a confused look from the mare. “I can teach him the spell theory, and I can still prep the materials.” A concerned frown snuck out from Twilights lips. “No offense Swage. But, that’s pretty advanced stuff you came up with. Not every Unicorn will be able to cast that.” A mischievous cackle erupted from the smithy at her concern. “Oh! Remind me to introduce you to his parents. You three can lament about his wasted talents. He had a free ride to Canterlot Arts and Magic before he got his cutie mark in metalworking; heat-treating specifically.“ Twilight blinked. CAM scholarships were no small honor, to have simply walked away for a live-in apprenticeship was a serious level of commitment to his calling. “Well, if he needs any help, I’m here. Don’t hesitate to ask.” “Scootaloo, Swage is drunk. Help me get him upstairs.” Quench called out across the shop. “I am no such thing!” the Pegasus retorted. “Look, I need a Unicorn, I need a talented Unicorn, and one that has a background in fabrication and enchanting. That’s you.” he said pointing a hoof at Quench. “You’re better at enchanting than I’ll ever be.” Quench sighed. “It’s not that I have anything against becoming a full business partner with you. This is a lovely town and work is plentiful. But, I don’t get why I’m suddenly so invaluable to you.” OK, he supposed he had burst into the room and started rambling out his plans without much preface. “My magic, where I use my phantom wing; that you always tell me looks creepy.” He waited for a nod of recognition from the Unicorn. “Once I bind the prosthetic wing, I’ll never be able to do that again. Only regular old ritual enchanting for me.” “Oh,” Quench deadpanned. “So you need me to replace the wing... that you replaced.” Swage tilted his head with an honest air of concern. “You make it sound like an insult. We have a chance to start a whole new profession here. We can take this technique and give ponies back their quality of life.” “But you could do this by yourself” Quench replied. “Yea, I could. I could just not undergo the process myself ,or maybe I could figure out a way even with getting my wing back.” Swage sat on his haunches and placed a hoof on his friends shoulder. “Either way, I don’t want to work alone and I think you and I do better work together.” A crooked smile grew on Quench’s face. That was the answer he was looking for. He would be his friend's ally and partner, but he would not be another tool to hang on the wall. Reaching out he mirrored the hoof on his shoulder and drew the Pegasus in for a quick hug before grasping him in a hoofshake “Deal.” he pronounced. “Awww!” Scootaloo cooed at them just a few feet away. The two stallions jolted from the unexpected comment; she giggled at their reaction. “So, you’re going to be able to fly again?” Swave gave her a smiling nod. “Thanks to you” The filly just gave him a confused look. “I had my eureka moment while trying to fix your problem.” he continued. “Oh” the little pegasus chirped, trying to look excited, but obviously a bit disappointed. Scruffing her mane, “I haven’t forgotten my promise Scootaloo,” he said bending down a bit to get eye level with her. “You’re actually going to be a lot easier than myself, if not a bit dangerous. I still need a few weeks though. I have to get Quench up to speed and I need to make a set of talismans for you.” “Really!?” the filly beamed “Yep, two, maybe three weeks” The confirmation sent Scootaloo into a skittering whirl of whoops and cheers. FallingScootaloo trotted up to the foundry, her mind was a little fuzzy. To say she had gotten no sleep that night would be perfectly accurate. The three of them had watched the dawn rise and sleep never once crossed their minds. The lack of rest seemed to be catching up to her now though. A pegasus chariot was sitting with its two attendants outside the shop and she had no good explanation for it. “What’s with the chariot?” she asked as the bell on the door announced her arrival. Swage poked his head out from the kitchen, “You got a better way to Cloudsdale?” “No,” she uttered in confusion, turning to look out the window at the two waiting pegasi. “Scoots... What’s on your flank?” Swage asked with an impish tone. The question prompted a head to appear out of the study. “Well, congratulations!” Quench chimed. “I want the full story later, but you two need to get going. They charge by the minute you know.” Swage trotted out into the shop, taking a heavy-looking saddlebag from Quench’s levitation as he passed. “He’s right, come on lets go” “I’d like to buy a clue.” The filly deadpanned. “Hmm, Oh sorry.” Swage apologized. “Your talismans are done, I’m going to get you flying today, but we need to go to Cloudsdale for the last ingredient.” This was all a bit too much for Scootaloo. Trapped between shock and exhaustion she quietly followed the older pegasus to the awaiting transport. Swage smiled at the animated filly as she narrated the events of the previous night. “... It was like some part of me connected with the tree, we could move each other. The dance, the song, and all the little decorations seemed to give it a direction.” Scootaloo’s attention drifted and her gaze fell over the railing of the carriage. “I still can’t really explain it. It was exhilarating. I... I just can’t find words for it or stop thinking about it.” He knew the look in Scootaloo’s eyes, obsession. She had found something that captured her heart and soul; dancing and magic, what a combination for a pegasus to have. He was a little sad, he would be losing his office mare soon. Though, he was glad to see her starting to find her own way. A shape caught his attention on the horizon. Nudging Scootaloo, he pointed to a thick cloud bank, “There it is, Cloudsdale.” /// Scootaloo watched from the chariot as Swage paid his tab and scheduled the return trip. While he had jumped upon the cloud-world the moment they had stopped moving, she had yet to steel herself for the leap of faith. She had been on clouds before, but the one Swage had played with was the largest until now. “Alright Scoots, lets get going,” the older pegasus called. There was six kilometers of air between her and the ground. She took the leap of faith true to its name. Eyes tight shut and breath held, she sprang from her perch and dove with all four legs into the nimbus matter. She landed hard enough that it hurt a little. The cloud was as firm as damp soil to her. Eyes open she scampered to catch up with Swage, craning her head in every direction to take in her new surroundings. “So what exactly are we here for?” she asked “Well, I need an air elemental and they only roam the upper clouds and winds. So we’re going to Anvil Head park and see if we can scoop up a little one.” Swage told her wistfully as he scanned his surroundings. Again, the answer to her question only made her more confused “How do you catch an elemental? Isn’t it going to be mad about it?” Swage turned a corner of the meandering sky city. It was evident to the young pegasus that, while some concessions were made for wingless ponies, the city was meant to be flown around, not walked through. Her next question was going to be where this park was. But, that was answered by the vista of a massive anvil shaped cloud towering above the far side of the city. With the exception of the weather factory on the other end of the city, it was the highest point she had seen. “Common elementals are more like plants than animals, just made of pure magic. I’m going to seal it in your left wing,” came the belated answer to her question. “Pardon?” she blurted. “The talismans I made you. They go on like your bangles. They’re what gave me this idea in the first place.” Swage looked back to check her reaction to the information, she seemed to be digesting it with concern. “The right ring is a bit more complicated, It will blur the line between you and the elemental; allow you to use its magic.” The one winged pegasus stopped to face her. “And tomorrow I’m using that same technique to bind the wing in my shop to me.” He beamed. “What about helping other ponies?” Scootaloo asked blankly His smile only redoubled at the question, “Quench is good, he’s already learned what I can teach him about the spell-half of the process. And this won't stop me from making the parts. It’ll take a few months, but maybe we can have our first new clients by Hearth's Warming.” Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Jerking his attention towards it, “No way, they're still in business!” he exclaimed. Scootaloo followed the over-sized foal as he made straight for a group of market stalls, eventually stopping at a whimsical looking booth simply labeled ‘snow creams’. “Dessert first, then lunch.” he told her as he exchanged bits for slush filled cones. “We’ll be a while getting to where we’re going, don’t want to get hungry.” The two flightless pegasus were exhausted by the time they reached the flat of the anvil head cloud. The tall rolling mountain of clouds gave an impressive view of the pegasus city, it also suffered stronger winds that most of the city did. It was these wild winds that brought the enchanter here, prime hunting ground for the elemental that Scootaloo would soon play host to. Swage surveyed the white rolling field and picked a spot to rest. Unfurling a rug from his pack he laid it down. It was an extremely common sort of thing. Nothing more than thick cloth with a weak cloud-touch spell bound to it. But, today it was invaluable to him; it would be his only place to lay tools. Unfortunately the enchantment it held also caused some eddies in the aether around it, so the work would have to be done just a few steps away. The carefully prepared rings were pulled from their case. Each made of an alloy whose formula was as old as enchanting itself, a careful blend of gold and copper. The fresh cast alloy so was malleable on the aether that even a stray thought would be recorded within in it. He had spent two nights working on each of them, shaping them by force of will as much as heat and tools. Their aura skillfully crafted. One, the vessel of a very special spell and one to ensnare a wild air elemental. Each was just a bit bigger than needed to go around the base of Scootaloo’s wing, giving room to grow and still leaving them a loose fit. The rings were not yet perfect, rather having ends that were flattened and overlapping. The overlapping sections had a small hole through them, a home for the rivet that would bind the ends together forevermore. Laying them on the rug he placed the two rivets along side the ring they belong to, each in a vial Quench had prepared for them. A simple spell would turn the rivets white hot the moment the seal was broken. A few tongs, a hammer, and a hoof-sized steel block were then produced from his saddlebag. Swage noticed that Scootaloo’s excitement had again turned to anxiety. “So, how’s this going to work? What do you need me to do?” she asked. He knew the better she understood the process the less nervous she would be. Pulling one last object from his bag, he laid a heavy cotton cloth over one of his forelegs. “I’ll wrap your wing and withers with this cloth, so I don’t accidently burn you.” Taking the steel block, he laid it on the cloth he was holding and took up one of the rings in his free hoof. “Then I’ll put a hot rivet through the holes in the ring and hit it with a hammer against the block” She didn’t seem to like the idea of being on the receiving end of a hammer blow, which was understandable. “Don’t worry I’m not hitting very hard and the block will take the brunt of it. It’ll just feel like a pat on the back. Laying down the ring for the hammer, he rapped the block to demonstrate the amount of force he would be using. “OK,” she blurted. “I’m ready when you are.” She seemed to have her confidence back, though he knew she was still a bit on edge. Giving her a nod, he laid the towel across her withers and tucked it around the base of her wings. Taking her brass bangles off, he replaced them with the Orichalcum bands, that he would soon bind to her with rivets and magic. Grabbing the rivet vial and the tools, he moved away from the rug. The first ring was the easy one. It only needed to be stitched into her aura. Separating that stranger portion of himself from its old form, he grasped at the white-hot rivet as it slid out of its vial. A simple spell bound it to the filly and a sharp blow of the hammer, the rivet, ring, and filly, became one. “You ok?” He asked, relaxing before trying the much more daunting second part. “Yea, felt a bit strange, but I’m good,” her voice held more confidence than it had earlier. Returning to the rug he fetched the next ring and rivet. He took a moment to sit and let his energies settle. When he returned to Scootaloo he had to be at his best, it was going to be a wild ride in the best case. Scootaloo felt the enchanter resettle the rag and block on her back. Looking over her shoulder she could see the pegasus had his eyes closed. A moment later, the severed limb shot sparks of magic as a glowing mass emanated out of it. It was no different that what she had seen every unicorn produce before a spell, but something unsettled her. The smithy poured every ounce of himself into the strange part that could peel away. Tools held in wing and hoof, eyes shut against distractions, he began the ordeal. There would be an elemental here somewhere. He spread the energy of his phantom wing as wide as he could. If only he had a unicorn’s sight, he could simple catch it like a butterfly. Instead, he was casting a net made of his very soul, in hopes of feeling one. He strained at his inner reserves forcing the net wider. Holding the effort was exhausting. Fear loomed over him that he would lose focus and drop the spell and he didn’t know if he had the strength to try again today; then something tugged at the net. His consciousness raced through the spell’s wires until it found the cause. He had found his prey, the kilometer-wide web collapsed like an umbrella. All the points finding their home in his target. He had the energy firmly in his grasp now. In steady measure, he began the process of dragging it back to him through the aether. It fought him every inch of the way back as he pulled it toward him. But, in little time he had it pressed against himself. The raw energy of the elemental air writhed against him, trying to flee back into the wild winds from which it had been plucked. Splitting his energies, he kept hold of the elemental with one thought, while turning to the ring with another. The moment of truth came with frightful speed. Forcing a part of the elemental into the ring, he felt the ripples of the other ring’s spell grab and meld it together with Scootaloo’s aura. Now he had only to seal the thing. Cracking the vial he dropped the rivet in place and raised his hammer. One swift blow and this would be done. Time slowed to nonexistence as Swage felt the astral entity blaze in power. Horror gutted him as he felt the elemental pull back through his hooves; dragging with it, what little pegasus magic Scootaloo had. The spell had done it’s job, but the elemental had it’s own ideas on who was keeping what. The thing slipped free of him, leaving Scootaloo without any magic. The filly would be dead in another heartbeat if he didn’t do something. He jammed that stranger portion of himself into the ring and he felt the bite of the merging spell. His head spun, but he managed to drive the hammer home and set the rivet. It hurt in the familiar way all smiths know, like when accidentally hitting a limb with your own hammer. /// All the hair on her body stood on end as she felt some great force brush against her. She felt the enchanter fidget with the ring and block on her back, then heard the glass break on the vial. Suddenly she was acutely aware of every little wind and air current around her, something was happening and it felt wonderful; she had never felt so alive. Then it all slipped away as everything drained out of her, black threatened to overtake her vision and her heart labored to beat. She was dying, but she did not. Life sprang back into her and she again knew the wind moved all around her. Something brushed against her and movement caught her attention. She turned, expecting the excited face of her friend, but found nothing but a hole in the cloud next to her. She didn’t think, she just jumped. Through the cloud she fell, but falling wasn’t fast enough. She buzzed her wings, but their old rhythm was gone. Her wings grabbed far more air than they should have. In place of the hummingbird like beats she had always known, was a hard steady beat; the two rings sounding out each flap. Clearing the bottom of the cloud she could finally see Swage, lifeless and falling. A few more hard pushes. Muscles, before unknown to her, burned like fire. Just a little closer.... She willed her wings to push at the air harder and reached out till she felt her shoulder wanting to come loose of its socket. The distance shortened by inches till she had finally crossed it. Clutching him tightly, she began to fight gravity. But, he was heavy and she had been running on pure instinct and adrenalin. They were falling together now. She could only do her best to slow the descent. /// Swage blinked and the world changed. Strange colors replaced the ones he knew. The sky was lifeless black, save for the harsh sun. Scootaloo glowed like a fire and the rings on her back shone like stars. Writhing electric fibers twisted around the talismans and into the filly. His confusion compounded when he felt something pass through him and into the cloud under him. Looking between his own legs, he gawked as he watched his own body plunge lifelessly through the cloud. ‘I’m dead’ He was watching himself fall, when something else passed through him. It was Scoots this time; she had jumped after him. Before he could even process this new event, an invisible force jerked him down into the hole. Some heavy chain was dragging him to the earth far below. He watched Scoots chase his corpse. He was rather proud of her, she was flying rather well for her first real try. He only hoped she didn’t over do it and lose control. Instinct told him to look up, they were being chased. A wicked looking beast was chasing them to the ground. He felt it more that he saw it. It was what he had tried to bind to Scoots. But, that was no mindless elemental. In his blindness he a found a beast of the Aether; a thing made of magic and shadow. It was gaining fast, in only a moment it had not only passed him, but Scoots too. The filly had just caught his lifeless form when the beast slammed into it and vanished within. /// Scootaloo did her best to just hold her wings out and glide. She didn’t need to fly, just not fall. Despite her achievements, the idea of landing the both of them was not something she was looking forward to. It was no small relief when the limp pegasus started to twitch, then move his wings. ‘Wings!’ she let go in shock, tumbling a small distance before re-stabilizing her flight. Gawking, she stared at the leathery bat wing that now lived where nothing had been before. /// His falling had arrested along with that of his body. Now hanging in the air, he pondered what was happening to his old shell. It had been dull and lifeless, but the impact of the creature had given it a glow. His old wound crackled with energy he could not see through. A slight pull suddenly made him aware that there was a fine silver thread still connecting him to his body. The cord was what had made him follow it in the fall and it was now reeling him back in. He merged into his old form, like two bubbles becoming one. Except now everything was black. He was still aware, but confined to infinite darkness. /// “That fool has given me a body,” came a strange voice from her friends lips. Something deep inside her twisted. She knew she was in the presence of evil. “You’re not Swage.” she accused more than asked. “I am not. I was going to take your body, but that enchantment stopped me. Instead I just took all your magic as a snack.” Scootaloo hovered in place watching the malevolent grin warp her friends face, she had no idea what to do. “But... Where’s Swage?” she whimpered. “Dead.” he blurted. Turning his back to her, he flew away. She refused the explanation. Leaning forward she took to chase the abomination. She was tired, but she ignored her aches. Whatever had happened to Swage it was the result of magic and magic would be needed to fix it. She had to try, no matter what. The creature that had taken Swage’s body gave her no mind as she caught up to him. The rings on her back sang like a war drum. He saw her as no threat and he had better places to be. Scootaloo’s mind wandered back to the tree the night before. There, her friends had made everything so easy. The connection just happened, like the spirit of the tree had invited her in. Now she was trying to force the connection and she didn’t even know how to start. Closing her eyes, she reached out like Swage had taught her to when feeling for the wind. Except now she was probing for her friend. She felt something familiar through all the strange new sensations. Swage stirred within the strange beast that possessed his body. ‘He’s still alive!’ Urgency slipped into her. She had to do something and fast. The creature was getting more comfortable with its new body by the second. Soon she would have no hope of keeping up with it. /// Two bells rang out somewhere off in the darkness. Swage turned to face the sound as best he could assume direction within the void. Something reached out and touched him, it was warm and friendly; a stark contrast to the cold black that engulfed him. The ringing grew louder and sharper till it started cracking the blackness. Light and sounds filtered through the breaks in the void. He caught flashes of Scootaloo flying near him. “You will sleep now and forever” a crackling voice commanded him from the dark as the slivers of the world outside sealed back shut. The darkness weighed heavy on him and sleep pulled at him. /// The little wisp of her friends presence winked out. Heart pounding staccato to her wings, mind blank, determination fixed, she simply acted. Her will pressed upon the hollow spot where she believed swage still lived. Her spirit swelled and commanded her movements. She dove at the creature, landing on its back and pinning the two mismatched wings to its body; the creature wailed in surprise. Bringing her own wings close and high, like she had seen Rainbow Dash do during her high-speed dives, she gave up all effort to fly. They were at the mercy of gravity, but she could still steer the decent. “You’ll kill us all!” shouted the monster she was clutching. ‘Don’t think... Feel.’ Her heart pounded, she altered the angle of one wing and spun wild. The monster flailed in her grasp. She did not resist the violence, instead becoming part of the creatures movements. Their descent twisted and whirled through the sky. Sometimes gaining altitude, sometimes dropping like a stone. /// Swage was in a wonderful dreamless sleep when he felt somepony shaking him awake. Wordless but frantic, they wanted him awake. Consciousness crept back into him as he tried to open his eyes. If he had opened them or not he couldn’t tell, his world was black and was bone-achingly cold like he had never felt before. The touch shaking him changed. The presence was still pressed against him, but now it wrapped him in a tight embrace. The warmth clung to him desperately and he reached back to pull the life-giving heat closer to him. Breathing in deep, the cold non-air of the void was replaced with warmth. /// Scootaloo’s eyes were glazed as the ground approached fast. The wild aerobatics was all she knew. The beast cursed and thrashed in her grip. Despite all of its efforts to escape, she only pulled it tighter, mind and body. Then a spark deep within the thing she was holding pulled her closer. Not physically, but on that stranger level she was just learning about. Her body followed her heart as she threw out her wings as far as they could go, grabbing all the air possible and then some. They had been falling fast and now she traded the speed for lift. The two rocketed back into the sky. Scootaloo’s eyes watered from the pain of her wings. She pushed the pain far from her consciousness, only her and the abomination existed. The rings sang as she added force to the climb. She didn’t have Sweetie Belle’s voice to move her, they would have to do. Higher they went till Cloudsdale receded below them. Applebloom was not here to create an inspiring setting, she would have to find her own. It was higher than any pegasus had a right to go, but she pushed on. Where her strength came from she didn’t know and she didn’t ask. Magic transcends much, but flesh and blood still have limits. The air thinned till it refused either lift or life. Holding tighter than ever before she blacked out. /// A smile crept on Swage’s lips as he felt wind rush over him. He could almost feel his feathers catch air. He could feel his feathers rippling! Trapped in the black all his senses told him he was flying. Butterflies rolled in his stomach as he clung to every little sensation he could find. The darkness shrieked around him. The blackness cracked and flickered till he found himself looking through eyes he had no control over. Blue sky in all directions, even the ground had faded into sky. He wanted to scream with joy. However, he was merely a passenger in this body; he had no power over it. His heart swelled from the thrill of flight till he could feel tears in his eyes. The black had been banished, but he felt another crack in his prison. The tears were real, he had that much command of his old body. Something writhed inside him. “Take back your flesh and die in it.” a voice in his mind spat. The world took shape fully around him, the last of the fog cleared from his mind. He was unbelievably high and falling. The air so cold it pierced his pegasus protection from it. My magic? I gave it all to Scoots... Scoots!’ He looked frantically for her, only to realize she had been the clinging warmth all along. His mind raced to understand what all had happened. ‘Why did he have his magic back and what was this thing that had possessed him? It wasn’t an elemental, whatever it was... But, it was very close to one. Close enough for them to form a symbiotic bond or rather a parasitic one.’ He felt the entity try and escape him, but he grabbed at it with will alone. “In for a penny in for a pound my friend,” he chided back at the unseen. Whatever the creature had done to his severed wing, it had sealed his magic just like that orb had days before. But, he still had his will and while the entity was still within him, he could still shape spells within himself. His will once again pinned down the monster as that other part of him began it’s mental gymnastics. Lines of magic were torn from the creature and made his own. Hard earned experience and unbridled inspiration twisted and shaped the energy till he had formed a spell that was a living thing in its own right. Forcing one half of the spell’s construct around his captive, he placed his very soul in the other. If he wasn’t having to concentrate so hard he would have uttered a prayer. His inner will let go of the spell it had shaped and let it do its job. The world spun as the thing within him cursed things unspoken for two millennia. A few heartbeats later, the scream faded to silence; the spell had worked. The binding spell he had designed for Scootaloo’s talisman had worked just as well on him. Replacing his soul for the Orichalcum had been risky, but it worked. Opening his eyes from the deep concentration, he took full control of his body. The air roared past him as he fell. He felt the warmth slip off his back and Scootaloo became a ragdoll falling along side him. Reaching out before she had drifted too far her took her in his forelegs. The mismatched wings flicked at the air in reflex. The featherless wing sent new sensations into Swage that startled him. Surprise sent the wings out straight and they caught the air hard, almost causing him to drop the unconscious filly. He almost dropped her again as he strained to look at the new limb. He had no explanation of how the thing had manifested, nor did he have the wherewithal to think about it. That would be something to ponder later... Right now they needed to land. Cloudsdale grew large below him. He would have preferred going straight to the ground, but he was exhausted; far better to land sooner. /// White light filled scootaloo’s vision. She was laying on a cloud bed and her whole barrel hurt. Her eyes adjusted and she found herself in a hospital made of clouds. Swage was in the bed next to her, watching her in anticipation of her awakening. “Bad news,” her friend addressed her. “What’s that?” she moaned. Talking hurt and she already wanted to go back to sleep. “The Doc says no flying for either of us for two weeks,” he continued. “What!?” The fall, the flight, it all came back to her. She grinned, grinned till it hurt. The orange pegasus landed in the snow outside the foundry. She was looking forward to spending some time in the foundry over the next few days. In the past months she had hardly seen Swage, let alone visit the shop. Now, school was out for a few weeks and her tutoring with Zecora was on hold till the zebra got back from her family visitations. The door flung open just as she reached for it. A bright yellow earth pony with moist eyes startled at the unexpected meeting. He blathered out an apology in between a stream of thank yous that he kept shouting back into the shop. A glint of steel caught her eye and she realized one of his legs was more metal than fur. Dancing in the MoonlightThe girls sat inside their clubhouse, huddled around a small pile of open books. The midsummer night air was warm and thick. Their sleeping bags laid unfurled besides them in a makeshift camp for the night. It wasn’t the first time they had spent the night here, it had become a bit of a treat when the weather allowed. Tonight was a little different though, it was official Crusader business. Twilight had been rather concerned when they had each checked out a book of ancient ritual magic. They had gotten a very long speech on being responsible with magic, even outright banning them from attempting several things mentioned in the books. The ‘pegasus war rite’ being the first on that list, much to Scootaloo’s disappointment. After each had read their book, they compared what they had learned and picked something to try; it was to be an earth pony dance of life. The ritual was said to breathe youth back into plants great and small. It also so happened that they had the required elements of the dance, that being a full moon and three mares. The images showed a carnival atmosphere. It was a revelry more so than just a dance, a celebration of life with song, dance, and elaborate decorations. The song was in old Equestrian. Twilight had deemed it harmless enough and helped them translate the words. Though in the end they had decided to memorize the old sounds and sing it that way; mostly at Sweetie Belle’s insistence. She felt that something was lost in the translation, the old words just held more intent to her. Sweetie Belle already knew a few songs in the old tongue, those folk songs that were passed down for mirth around the seasonal festivals. A little help from Twilight, and she had the phonetics memorized in just a few read-throughs. With a few hours coaching, she had the other two singing with passable diction. As for the dance, Scootaloo found it to be simple enough, a circle dance that repeated the same twelve steps. The large expressive moves seemed silly, but fun. It wasn’t hard for her to feel the purpose of the moves. Each step chronicled either a season, its passing, or a phase of the moon. She had the pattern down in just a few minutes, showing the others how to move was just as easy. Applebloom had the perfect place for the ritual. Not far from the clubhouse were some of the oldest trees on the property. The family didn’t even tend them any more, they no longer bore enough fruit to make it worth the effort. As long as they didn’t set the orchard on fire, any accidental damage would go unnoticed. Among the old grove, one tree stood out to her, she knew it was over a hundred year old, strong, and full of personality; she couldn’t think of a better target for the spell. Imitating the pictures as best she could, Applebloom readied the site. The tall grass was cut low and twisted into decorative ropes that she hung with care around the old trunk. Fallen branches were gathered and placed end to end in a circle around the apple tree, errant stoned moved and mingled into the pattern. What had been a twisted old tree in a fallow field, was now a bride awaiting her groom. Applebloom found the whole thing silly, but a bit familiar. ‘Granny’s Zap apple jam. All her silliness for the Zap apples; it’s a ritual, just like this.’ “Alright, It almost midnight,” Sweetie Belle announced. “Lets get started before it’s too late.” The three girls exchanged smiling nods as they filed out of the tree house and made their way to the prepared site. Three voices rang out from the orchard. The song was first sung before the tribes had unified, and there danced a filly from each. Their voices seemed to echo off the moon, as if Luna herself had joined the choir. Spaced evenly apart, they circled the tree again and again. Mechanical at first, but grins replaced looks of concentration and stiff movements became a fluid dance as the celebration of life took hold of them. Even the tree seemed enticed to join the merriment. They were having far too much fun to see what Twilight was now watching. The she had decided to surveille them that evening. They were trying to wield serious magic and she wanted to be there if something bad happened. They would have been insulted if they knew she was babysitting them, so she just camped out in the bushes a short distance away and observe quietly. Colors effervesced from the dancing fillies, the chromatic mist swirling around the dancing circle. Twilight found herself breathless as the old tree started to move; not much, but it had taken to life. The tree drank greedily of the vapor, green leaves and red apples manifested; cracked branches found their youthful form again. She had read about this, but it was a magic lost to an older time. ‘How had those three rekindled it so casually?’ The three stopped suddenly when the tree’s transformation had become too great to not notice. Hoops and hugs were exchanged as they marveled at their work. Twilight took it as a good cue that it was time for her to head back home. She would come back tomorrow and see what she could learn. For now she would leave them alone, they had a lot to celebrate. Still winded from their revelry, the girls group hugged in celebration of their success, Whatever they had done, it had transfigured the half-dead relic into a verdant fruit tree. Catching their breath, the Crusaders traded eye contact and turned to examine their flanks, as was their ritual. Stark silence filled the orchard as nervous stares passed between the girls. They were all rendered speechless while they tried to understand what had happened. A haggard black branch bearing a single apple bloom of brilliant color and exquisite detail. A silver bell, filigreed so intricately one could get lost in the pattern and bound with a crimson bow. A golden ring, bearing to white wings. The image blurred in some strange way that made you want to believe it forever turned and the wings trapped in mid-motion. “OK, so, what does this mean?” Applebloom asked. It was a question with many sides and they all knew it. “We did it.” Sweetie Belle’s voice cracked. “But yea, I don’t get it.” Scootaloo pondered her own mark, while listening to the others. Wings... She always knew it would have wings, that’s just natural. Flight is a constant dream, but what does the ring mean to her? She had expected this moment to bring answers, not questions. “Alright, think.” she mused aloud. “What does it remind you of, that we just did? Don’t think... Feel.” Applebloom closed her eyes and searched the past few moments. A content smile spread across her face as she started to speak, “The old tree, I made it young again; I fixed it. “When I was singing, I was really happy and I felt like I made the tree happy too” Sweetie Belle added. Scootaloo looked to the tree and reflected on her friends epiphanies, “Some part of me connected with the tree when we danced. It danced with me.” she thought aloud. Still the ring didn’t fit. ‘What does it mean?’ She twiddled her wings in a nervous fidget, chiming her bangles absentmindedly. Her eyes shot open as she knew what the ring meant to her, motion and magic. Luna sat on the balcony of her room, gazing at her moon; gleefully humming an ancient tune as she recited the words in her mind. She never looked away from her moon, even as Celestia unceremoniously plopped down beside her. “What was that?” the elder sister grumbled. Her lack of regalia and gruff appearance betrayed that she had been roused from her bed. “I felt an old magic.” “The fates my sister. They have placed three new threads into the loom. Our heroes for the next generation have found their mantles. And they did it while singing to me,” Luna recited. “Mm,” Celestia nodded. “Then it’s safe to go back to bed?” “Yes Tia. All is well this night” “Uh,” the goddess of day replied as arrhythmic hoof beats sounded through the room behind her, fading as she went back to her own chambers. “Love you too, sister.” Luna cheered. Author's Note Humor me. This chapter feel pretentious to me. But, I am going somewhere with this.
SwageSwage; \ˈswāj, ˈswej\ : a tool used by metalworkers for shaping their work, by holding it on the work, or the work on it; and striking with a hammer or sledge The little foundry on the edge of Canterlot was humming, its barn-like doors opened to expose fire, steel, and machines. A dower gray earth pony examined a massive sheet of copper being heated over a bed of coals. It was clear that this project was bigger than the ones the little shop normally handled. “Where the hay is that colt, we’re going to have to start without him,” the gray pony grumbled. The only other pony in the shop, a unicorn with a chestnut coat, answered, “Swage wouldn’t miss seeing you work a sheet this big for anything. I’m starting to worry about him.” The older pony snorted. “Whatever possessed me to take a pegasus on as an apprentice I’ll never know. We’re starting this in five whether he’s here or not, you’ll have to take up his slack Quench.” “Yes Master Pigiron,” the journeyman unicorn barked. Truth be told, Pigiron knew exactly why he had taken the little pegasus as his apprentice; he had never met a pony that loved working metal as much as Swage, nor somepony that could learn as fast as he could. Pigiron had learned early on not to show him anything he didn’t want him trying. Swage could reproduce a skill after watching it just once or twice. Of course, it still took him awhile to get good at the task. But still, he was an adept in the art. His gift was also a curse in the eyes of his master. He would never push himself. Learn something, fix something, take off to take a nap or play in the nearest cloud; wash, rinse, and repeat. “The colt could be the best, if he wasn’t so pleased with himself about being good” He mumbled. A wheat colored streak shot between two clouds. After a moment of rustling the cloud produced the bust of a pony, his dark brown mane hanging from the cloud like a banner. Grinning like mad pony he scanned for the next cloud to assault. The air was cool and the sun warm, no wind ether; it was perfect flying weather. Tall puffy clouds called him to come and play. It was a call he couldn’t resist. Flying in the wonderland the clouds made, he played with total abandonment of his dignity. He was really too old to be playing in clouds like this, but he didn’t care. He threw himself into a cloud like a cannonball, gouging a hole deep into the cloud before coming to a stop. Pausing to catch his breath he jolted. “Horseapples!” he yelled, “I forgot about the boiler!” Pigiron looked to the clock on the wall, then checked the heating metal. “It’s ready, if we leave it in any longer it’ll burn.” He gave a nod to the unicorn. The old smithy would never admit it, but he was a bit worried about his student. Swage loved sheet-work more than anything else and he couldn’t imagine him missing this rare example of large scale white-smithing. “Alright Quench, lets start this.” By hoof and magic, the two hefted the glowing red sheet into the air and began swing it towards the mold that it was to be worked around. Swage could see movement in the foundry he called home. They had started without him. “O’ man Pigiron is going to tan me!” he whined to himself. He made a fast landing in his normal spot, center of the door, just a few feet inside the building. His eyes were on the floor as he flared his wings to stop himself. The clack of hooves hitting the stone floor was echoed by the whine of stretching metal and the sudden shout of his master. Tearing his eyes to the sound he found a red hot wall fluttering towards him. All he could do was wince. His eyes were closed, when he felt the heat of the metal tumble past him. It was a close miss. Two voices screamed out anew in alarm. It occurred to him that his left wing had gone numb, but that was quickly replaced with a pain he would never be able to give words for.
AetherSoft Body: a metaphysical concept, an aspect of a body that extends beyond what is perceptible to the senses. See: soul. A pony with one wing paced the empty floor of the old merchant house. His Pegasus blood itched. The wind billowed gently outside, the sky was clear and welcoming. He didn’t need to see it, the wind called to him. Having the ancient pile of stone stacked around him was comforting. It kept the sky away, silenced the wind. He could have picked a newer building, but the heavy stone rooms here helped him forget, they added their weight to his soul. The building was one of the oldest in Ponyville, a cornerstone of the quaint market district. He finally had his own shop with his own suite on the second floor. Walking outside his crystal blue eyes scanned the sign he had hung up that morning: “Swage Hammer: General Smith, Licenced Farrier” “Swage Hammer,” he repeated the name to himself. He had been born as simply Swage; it was Five years apprenticeship, four years journeyman, and an exam before the Elders, that gave him the title Hammer. Now he was a Master smith and allowed to open his own shop. Even take an apprentice if he wanted. His still couldn’t believe his luck. Finding a town in need of a smithy, that wasn’t some pothole on the edge of the frontier. The previous smithy, Plowshare Hammer, had retired and moved to be with his grandfoals some years ago; taking his tools with him to set up his “retirement shop”. Leaving the small town without a smithy. And the famous Twilight Sparkle lived less than a mile from him. She would be a priceless asset in his constant research. Of course he had not expected to meet her, or the rest of the Elements of Harmony, on his first night here. He had barely gotten his luggage off the train when he had been assaulted by a welcoming party, thrown by none other than the Element of Laughter herself. He had put on his best face for the whole event, wanting nothing more that to simply sleep. But, it was an excellent chance to make a first impression on all the ponies that would hopefully become his clients. With his entire life savings dumped into moving and new tools, he would need every customer he could get. Soon the building’s lower floor and porch would be bustling with equipment, but for now he had nothing to do. His massive order of tools for both his smithing and arcane crafts would be arriving by freight later that day. ‘Well, may as well tour the town and hit up the library.’ As he meandered the marked district of the little town he found himself within the farmers market. The smells of produce and home cooked treats awakened his appetite. The bag of grain he had brought for the train ride and the sweets from last night left him sorely wanting for fresh food. Turning about, intending to pick a stall at random, he found a strange sight. One of the Elements of Harmony, was selling food from a little wooden cart. Applejack had just gotten her cart up and running for the day when she recognised the new smithy, form the night before, giving her a quizzical look. “What can I do ya for, Smithy?” greeting him with a smile. Bewilderment forced his head to an angle as he asked, “You run a food cart?” “Among many other things,” she replied proudly. The food on her cart was making his mouth water, hunger overtook his curiosity. “Can I get the baked apples and some apple chips?” “Sure thing sugarcube.” The one featherless nub that jutted from the side of the pegasus drew her attention with grim curiosity. She placed the order out and paused a moment. “Can I ask...” she just looked to the old wound. “I was reckless once in my master’s workshop. Didn’t look where I was going.” The nub moved a little as he cast a glance back at it.” “O’, I’m sorry.” She regretted asking. His forced smile had fallen from him like a veil. The scars on his heart were as clear to her as those that decorated his body. She chided herself for picking at such a wound. “What do I owe you for the food?” Swage asked with forced pleasantries. “Normally two bits, but first time’s free. Gotta get ya hooked!” She gave her best wicked grin. “Thanks.” Swage took the plate of food in his teeth and headed to the nearest unoccupied bench. As he walked away it occurred to her she hadn’t seen his cutie mark yet. She watched him cross the park until he finally chanced to turn broadside to her. It was a black anvil with gold wings. “Afternoon, Mr. Macintosh” Swage spoke from behind a large open forge. Bellows sighed in a crisp even rhythm. The buildings large porch now bustled with tools of all sizes. The full shelves behind him spoke of a steady workload, despite having been in the town only a week now. Mac had an old plow and three young fillies in tow. The girls, full of life, ran circles around the big red stallion; a stark contrast to the spent and broken plow. Mac shucked the farm equipment onto the table in front of Swage. “Need to get that fixed,” he said, glaring at his nemesis as it crashed on the workbench. Swage assessed the plow. The hitch had broken clean off; mouldboard and share were both wrought iron. He was sure there had been a steel foreshare, but that had worn away a lifetime ago. The fittings had rusted solid too. “I’ll charge you a lot less to just make a new one.” he said flatly. “I’ll even buy the old iron off you for eight bits.” He paused and looked the device over again. There were clear signs that it had been used recently. “You actually still use this dull thing!?” “Only plow we got,” Mac retorted, looking at the device he had spent so many years with, assuming it to be a typical example of the species. He blinked, curious what the smythy knew that he didn’t. “So, how much for a new one?” Swage rubbed a hoof against his left side, grimacing as he added up the hours needed for the project in his head. “Give me the old plow, and I’ll call it sixty bits. I repair anything I make for free for life, too” “Ya take thirty of that in credit with my sister’s store?” Mac had his best poker face on now. Swage had been warned by the other merchants that the Apples would haggle for all but the smallest services. Trying to trade produce instead of paying in bits.Thirty bits left him some change after the materials and having to outsource the wood working. He had to buy food anyway. “Deal,” Swage pronounced, extending a foreleg out to seal the bargain. Mac clearly wasn’t used to having his first offer taken so eagerly. It took him a moment, but he met the smithy’s hoof and shook. With the work commissioned, he went back to the task he had started earlier. While Big Mac had left to continue his errands, his entourage had stayed behind. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had met up after school as usual. Having no original idea of their own, they took to following Applebloom's big brother in hopes the he would lead them to a new place and, by extension, another idea to earn their cutie mark. And they had struck gold . The smithy didn’t seem to notice them, as he was entranced in his own work. The girls soon found themselves also hypnotized by the fire, sparks, and glowing metal. Their minds raced with desire to try the craft themselves. He had just got back into his zone when he felt a strange presence. His eyes refocused, looking past the hammer he was wielding. Three pairs of eyes stared back at him with undivided attention. Swage knew the look in the girls’ eyes. He had watched a hulking earth pony work hot iron for days when he was no bigger, and it only took a week of begging and his best behavior before he had been allowed behind the workbench himself. Turning away from his audience, he drug a small forge near the smallest of his anvils. “Come on back girls. Get it out of your system” The three friends traded glances in disbelief. “You mean we can try it?” Applebloom stammered out. They all three made to pounce behind the counter. “Hold up!” Swage interrupted them, getting a crushing look of disappointment as he did. “Two rules.” He threw each filly a pair of goggles. Thick glass bound to cloth by copper bands. “You have to keep those on.” He rummaged through a pile of scrap and pulled out three black bars. Dropping them by the forge he took one and scratched a circle in the dirt around the equipment. “Second, you can use anything inside the circle, but don’t touch anything outside the circle... Understand?” “Yes Sir,” they answered simultaneously. “All right, come on back then.” Scootaloo led the charge behind the counter, but froze in terror when the pegasus stallion turned to reach for something. She hadn’t realized he was missing a wing until she was within a foreleg’s reach of his side; now the wound filled her vision. Something deep within her turned sick. She had heard of ponies losing a wing before, but the story always ended with them dieing. Pegasi that lost their wings always seemed to just wither away, or end the own life. The sick feeling turned to empathy for the fellow earth-locked pegasus. She forced herself to look him in the eye as he turned back around to face the trio. Swage lit up the little forge and briefly gave them the beginners tips before letting them loose to try the skill themselves. He was confident that they had enough sense not to grab the hot end. Going back to his own project, he kept an ear on them more than an eye. The girls still chattered as their anvil rang behind him. He held up a newly finished cream boat to check the seams. The copper bright pink for the last acid wash. All he had left on this project was to tin it. Tinning was the first chore his master had let him on his own to do. He still found it deeply relaxing. “Wow, you’re brave!” a loud voice spoke near him. He hadn’t seen her approach. It was Twilight Sparkle, she was grimly looking at the the girls behind him. Glancing back at the three he shrugged. “Eaa, they’re harmless. Better to give them something to do than let them find something to do... What brings you over?” “Those books you wanted came in this morning. They’re too old to leave the climate-controlled room, though, so you’ll have to come by to read them....” Twilight paused, the aether around her rippled form the presence of magic. She looked around but saw no reason for the sensation. “That’s some pretty esoteric stuff you asked for.” Again the strange feeling nagged at her. “Something wrong?” Swage pried. “No, I thought I felt a spell near me,” she explained, still unsure of herself. “That’s probably the half dozen enchantments I’m working on back here.” Grabbing a freshly polished stew pot, he placed it on the counter between them. “This is a big seller, food won't burn to the bottom. I also have never-stick enchanted pans.” “Oh no, if Spike hears about this I’ll be broke. Wait, what, you do enchanting!? Well, that explains the books.” Twilight looked from the smithy to the cookware. Swage Scratched at his mane as he spoke. “Yea, enchanting is what I did for my Masters demonstration before the Guild Elders.” Twilight assessed the pot with her magics. It was enchanted and while not exceptionally powerful, it was many times greater than anything she ever heard of a non-unicorn doing. She knew very well the Pegasus and Earth Ponies had no less magic in them than Unicorns did, but Unicorns had a physical tap that allowed their magic to enter creation as they willed. She had never heard of a non-unicorn attempting more than the simplest magics. Zecora’s potions and charms were the most exposure she had to ritual magic of this nature. “No wonder you got the Master’s title so young.” Twilight looked around the workshop for a moment. “Can I watch you make something? I’d really like to see how you do this.” Foal-like curiosity was thick in her voice. “You mean see how a Pegasus does this,” Swage scowled Twilight stammered, “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean too.. It’s just...” A strange cackle burst out of the smithy. “Sure, I’ll make a little art project for you. Have a seat, watch however you like.” /// Although slightly perplexed, she wasn’t going to turn up the chance to learn something new in the field of magic. Getting comfortable she reached out with her magic and carefully surveyed the smithy. He sat and cleared himself, she felt his aura drop to a smooth focused state. Opening his eyes he took out a few small billets of metal: copper, gold and a tiny bead of platinum. All his movements were trance like. “Step a little closer Ms. Sparkle,” he said with a voice like the possessed. She obeyed. Abandoning her eyes altogether for her sixth sense, she gently probed and analyzed the Aether about the smithy. She felt something, the lost wing, it was still there, sort of. His soft body remembered the wing and was desperately trying to find the lost flesh. The static crackle of the aether was starting to be replaced with patterns and familiar hums, he was shaping magic within him. It was a familiar process; were he a unicorn his horn would be glowing. The eye within her horn watched the raged ghost wing solidified within the astral space as the spell he was weaving built its power. He was moving now. She could hear fire and hammer. The smithy’s soft body warped, extending past the flesh and taking the tool he held within itself. The tool now an extension of his very soul and will. With each blow of the tool, the lifeless form it pounded started glowing brighter. A spell was taking shape within the metal he was working, it was a very weak spell, but a spell. Moments later the item went hot with magical force. Twilight jumped, something powerful had moved in the Aether. ‘The wing!’ It had lost all resemblance of its old flesh. It was now a shapeless reaching mass that crackled gently with energy. It looked all with world like the reach of a unicorn’s horn. Her mind filled in the blanks, her eyes opened with surprise. ‘He’s using the phantom wing like a horn!’ Her eyes darted around the shop, it was perfectly boring on this level. Nopony knew what fantastic things were happening within the astral. Her eyes met the smithy’s as he worked, he smirked. Something pinched at her magics wickedly, closing her eyes she rejoined the ethereal show. A tendril of energy now connected her to the object, but it faded out of existence before she could analyze it. She watched as the tool lost its aura and the wing faded back to a cobweb shadow. The item though, it had a near living presence to it. He was still working on it, but in a mundane way. She sat her magics to rest and reopened her eyes. /// “This is well and truly yours now, Ms. Sparkle,” Swage said as a gleaming writing pen emerged from a pan of soapy water. He laid it down before her. “Are you sure? That’s an expensive gift,” she protested. “It as useless as a rock to anypony but you, now. Pick it up. You’ll see.” He gestured to the pen. Grinning a bit more than he would have liked. Twilight went to reach for the pen with her magic, but it snapped to attention before she had even completed the thought. The pen took to motion, writing in the air. Had it ink and paper, her confused internal monologue would have been spelled out. A big toothy grin spread across Twilight’s face as she grasped what was happening. “You aligned the metal’s crystals to my aura.” “In a nutshell,” he let out a big sigh, “and that’s it for me today! I’m going to clean up and head over to the library.” He looked over his shoulder. “Wrap it up girls. I’m closing shop as soon as I’m clean” “OK!” comes the three voices as one form. ‘That’s starting to creep me out a bit,’ he thought Looking again to Twilight, “Hang out for a moment and I’ll show you what I’m working on.” He winced, realising he just asked Twilight Sparkle to “hang out” with him. She nodded. “Sure thing.” Her attention turned towards the pen as she distracted herself with it, swishing it about the air like a new toy. Swage took to his end of the day cleaning ritual; the girls followed his example, dowsing their fire and brushing the tools off. He decided to check out their efforts before going inside to wash up. “So, what’d ya make, girls?” The little unicorn had made, well... something. He didn’t know what it was supposed to be, but she was very proud of it and he wasn’t about to tell her she shouldn’t be. The pegasus had a “marshmallow roasting fork,” and he supposed it would be fine for the job. The earth pony, though, had made a very lovely lantern hook. Even made the mounting plate look like a fleur-de-lis. ‘The mare has some talent!’ he thought. The three stood clutching the work, grinning like the school kids they were. “Well girls.” He opened the door to his study. “It’s getting late; you should be getting home.” “What is that!” They said in unison. ‘Yep, that is creepy’ he confirmed to himself. They were all pressed around his fetlocks, nosing through the threshold before he could react. He sighed and simply got out of their way. “That’s some setup you have in there!” Twilight said looking into the room to see what the fuss was about. The room shined with brass and crystals; one wall had become a floor to ceiling chalkboard, it was full of arcane scribblings and formulas. The center of the room was dominated by a pony mannequin supporting a sparsely feathered metal skeleton. A little imagination could clearly see that once completed it would look all the world like a pegasus wing. Swage motioned for Twilight to come in. “This is what I was going to show you, anyway. It’s my life’s work. I’m going to fly again with this.” Scootaloo let out a resounding “WOW!” while the others had a skeptical expression. He continued, “Every part of this is tuned to me like that pen is to you. It’s taken me two years to get this far, but I can spend a lot more time on it now.” Twilight studied the chalkboard. The enchanter was dancing a fine line between insight and madness. [Done with this much...sorry for the delay but things came up and I had trouble with my scheduling.] - MrMinimii
Reckless‘He never looks up.’ Twilight thought as she watched the enchanter walking in front of her. His spirits were higher than normal in the gray spring evening as they made their way from the foundry to the library, having finally shooed the foals home. She had gotten him into some casual conversation; he was relating how he had spent his journeyman years studying under several enchanters. She knew the names, all powerful mages in Celestia's retainer. She was only half listening to him talk, though. Instead she was studying him as a whole. Piecing together all she had learned in his study, trying to get a bead on his intentions. The writing on the wall, the books he had ordered, his melancholy spotted with manic episodes, they were all clicking into place now. ‘He’s reckless and willing to die trying to fly again. But, would he willingly harm somepony to get what he wanted?’ The spell was just a specialised golem, but it would be a mindless slave to his own will. The easy way reeked of forbidden magic, the hard danced the line of madness. “Swage?” she asked. “That spell you’re working on. What do you intend on binding into the wing for the life source?” ‘There, a blunt question, now watch his reaction.’ “Myself.” It was an automatic response. Either a very well rehearsed lie, or the truth. It was the answer she was expecting, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “By all rights that should kill you.” “That’s the hitch isn’t it?” he said flatly looking back at her. He looked to the severed limb. “I know you were watching my wing while I worked, I could feel it.” Twilight quietly nodded, curious where he was going with this. “The Pegasus magic is still there. It remembers the wing. If I can just ensnare the phantom form in a new shell...” Twilight picked up where he had started to trail off. “But something’s off. Everything you’ve tried falls apart. The magic isn’t responding like a normal soft body. You feel like you’re working with two entities at once and you can’t get them both to latch into your enchantment.” Swage stopped dead in his tracks. “It took me a year to figure that out.” “Lets get to the library. We’ll talk more in private.” She motioned for him to continue and follow her. The “rare books” section was Twilight’s personal addition to the library. An unused office was now a magically climate controlled and heavily warded fortress for old and rare manuscripts, yet even in this vault there was one case that stood redoubled in its security. It was a small heavy case that could hold no more than two dozen books. Swage sat at the table in the middle of the room, looking over the titles that had been brought in just for him. He looked up from his studies to see the librarian opening the strong box by key and magic. A heavy brown tome floated out towards him. Twilight paused a moment before resting to book before him. “Long ago Celestia and Luna decided to erase the oral history of the early days of creation. When they took their physical forms ponykind was in great turmoil and they felt a fresh start was needed. This book is one of the few recordings of the old legends. Judged by both Sisters, it is an accurate history. You will treat this knowledge with the respect it deserves.” Swage looked from the book to the librarian, he shrink in his seat from her suddenly serious and placid expression. She had been a little, purple unicorn mare a moment ago. But now, he felt the weight of being in the presence of the heir apparent to the Arch Mage. “Yes ma’am,” he croaked, The book flew open, sending a cascade of dusk into the still room; Swage gawked with intrigue as he absorbed the information presented before him. And the first pair looked to the sun and moon and said. “We feel the wind and envy it. We wish for freedom above all other things. Grant us the power to fly and let our hearts live in the clouds.” The Sisters smiled from the heavens and rejoiced in the wish. “You shall have all these things and so shall your children.” The light and the dark met, and between them came forth the first of the elements of wind. “You called for me goddesses of day and night?” “Yes,” the sisters spoke. “Take a feather from your crown and split in two. Give one half to each of these two. Embrace them and call them your cousins, as each of their kind will be born as both your child and ours.” Twilight watched his face as he read. He stopped and shifted his weight. She could tell he was thinking hard. “An Elemental?” he mused out loud. “Pegasus magic isn’t really pegasus at all. It’s the effect of having a Wind Elemental in our blood line.” Scootaloo looked at the town clock, another hour and she would have to go home. Her friends had already gone their own ways for the evening. The door to the library opened, she watched intently to see who was leaving; it was Swage, the very pony she had been waiting for. He stopped to secure his saddle bag. Swallowing hard, she steeled her nerves and approached him. “Excuse me, Master Swage?” she squeaked. Swage was startled by the little voice. Looking up from his saddlebag he found one of the fillies from earlier looking up at him. “Uh.. just Swage or Swage Hammer. The title is really only important between fellow smiths. Can I help you?” His grim expression made it hard for her to look him in the eyes, but something in his voice was comforting. “Will you really be able to fly again with that wing you’re making?” she asked. Swage rolled several answers through his mind. He started to tell her to blow off, but something desperate in her stopped him. “Yea, I’m getting back up there.” “So you could fly once?” It struck him that the filly looked sad to learn he had flown before the accident. “Yea, then I got my wing cut off by a good for nothing unicorn. Why you asking, anyway?” Old wounds, flesh and mental alike, flared; anger looked for a place to lash out. Scootaloo winced, his voice rang of hate. For a moment she thought he would hit her. “I’m sorry,” he said, now sitting on his haunches,eyes closed, breathing deep intentional breaths. “I didn’t mean to do that. What’s your name?” Opening his eyes he put on his best smile. “Scootaloo, and It’s ok, It’s just that... I thought maybe you could make me wings too, but I’ve never flown.” A nervous laugh escaped the smithy. “O’ you just hit a bad growth spurt. You’ll be flying again a soon as your wings catch up. You don’t remember flying around as a yearling?” She shook her head. “No, I never flew as a yearling. I have never flown, ever” Swage stared at the filly in disbelief; one can barely keep yearlings on the ground. To hear of one that never flew was shocking. “Tomorrow, come by my place and let me look you over, see what all is going on. Now get home before your parents worry about you.” Her face brightened before turning to leave, but it didn’t make him feel better. He had no idea where he was going with this, but he couldn’t leave a pegasus on the ground if there was even a chance he could help.
WindHis private study buzzed with new life. A pile of notes from his study session with Twilight Sparkle the night before littered his desk. The mannequin and its wing had been removed to the large interior shop. In it’s place esoteric instruments were pulled from their cases and carefully placed in a circle. Walking into the focus of the device he squinted, taking note of their various movements, clicks, and color changes. A rare genuine smile spread across his face. New mysteries were being revealed to him, new concepts, new tools. It was the first big leap he had made since learning to manipulate the phantom limb years ago. There was a gentle rapping against the door. “Come in,” Swage called out. Scootaloo had found the storefront and workshop locked,and the outside forge cold. Intruding into outside work area, she knocked on the door to his study. A brite voice beckoned her to come in. He was scribbling something incomprehensible on the blackboard as she entered. “Want some hot tea?” he asked. “Fluttershy sells the best mint tea I’ve ever had, picked some up this morning. How was school?” He said all in one breath. “I’d love some” She said, dumbfounded. The smithy had a foal-like energy about him. Pointing to a few cushions on the floor Swage commented, “Have a seat. When I get back we’ll get started” Scootaloo sat sipping her tea as the smithy measured her wings. “Ok, now your family, they ever had problems flying?” he asked. She snickered at the question. “My folks are earth ponies, sister, too.” “Wow, you’re a rare throw back then. Grandparents?” “No, but I had great grandparents on both sides that were Pegasi.” Finishing up his notes, Swage drank from his tea. His eyes glassed over for a moment, thinking hard about the nature of the problem. “Stand in the circle there, let me run some tests.” She stood and stepped into the center of the room apprehensively. The little devices that littered the floor started coming to life, each one making some unique response to her presence. Swage paced around the circle checking each device, stopping to make notes on a few. “Flap your wings,” he requested. The little mare buzzed her wings like she would on her scooter, sending some of the loose paper in the room flying. The smithy made notes on the movement of one particular device. “That’s good.” He moved to another. “Now close your eyes and focus on the wind outside.” He bent closer to the little machine anticipating its movements. “What?” the filly blurted. Looking up from his machine “I need you to really focus on feeling the wind move.” Scootaloo blinked and scratched her head. “You’re not making any sense, we’re inside.” “I know the walls are thick but...” Something in Scootaloo’s eyes interrupted his train of thought. “You can’t feel the air move at all, can you?” The smithy’s eyes went sad again, but this was different, this was pity and not remorse. “Well of course I can feel the wind on my coat,” she mumbled, confused with the sudden change in mood. Swage shook his head. stepping forward he sat down bringing their eyes level. “Close your eyes,” he instructed. Her eyes closed, but the furrow on her brow said she was anything but relaxed. He touched the little spot of tension on her face. “Relax, lay down if you need too.” Taking a deep breath she laid down, not quite sure how to relax while sitting up. Swage felt a gust outside. Over the past eight years he had come to hate the feeling, but this time he smiled at the ensation. “There! you feel that?” She looked up at him with one eye, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling.” “The wind, moving your Pegasus blood. The wind in your soul that wants to join the breeze without.” Swage stopped himself, she was looking more confused with every word. This was just like when he first started trying to enchant. The hours he had spent trying to “see” and “feel” things he only had words for. Taking his own advice, Swage relaxed and took a seat near the filly. He spoke in a gentle, droning tone. “Close your eyes and breath. Big full breaths.” Pausing, he waited for her to fall into a rhythm of deep breaths. “Use your imagination to follow the air; in... out.” Repeating the in and out in time with her breath, he timed the command to slow her breathing, till she was in the trance state he was looking for. Slowly he continued. “Feel it move around your lungs, watch it leave your nose... Breath it back in... Feel the breath inside you, exhale. Feel the air in front of you move as you breath disturbs it...” Over the course of an hour he had lead her through the ancient breathing exercise till her mind’s eye followed the circulation of the air of the whole room. He was leading her through another cycle when he felt a strong gust baffle the outside of the building. Scootaloo’s eyes shot open in surprise; she gasped as her whole body twitched and convulsed as it was taken by a powerful itch that she could not reach. “What was that!” she yelled. The smithy burst out laughing. He had seen yearlings react to gusts like that before, but never a near grown filly. “That’s not funny, that... tickled” she said a bit indignant. Swage caught his breath and nodded. “I know it did!” “You mean you.. all Pegasi can feel that, all the time?” “Well, yea. It’s harder through these thick walls, though. Sorta why I got this place.” “How come nopony ever told me?” Her ears laid back as the wind picked up for a moment. She could still feel it. Not like the first time, but still somehow, she knew it was there. “Who would have? And besides would it ever occur to you to tell somepony about the sense of smell?” Swage said thoughtfully as he again took to tending his instruments. “Now, do it again, focus on the wind.” The machine before him rotated as the filly closed her eyes. The reading further reinforced the theory he had put together. Two days ago he would have been dumbfounded with this puzzle, but thanks to Twilight it was plain as day. “Ok, that’s fine, you can relax,” he said pulling his notes together. “Pegasi fly by wing and magic. It’s that same magic that lets us stand on clouds.” Scootaloo nodded as he spoke. She did know that much. Simple observation told you Pegasus wings weren’t big enough to allow flight, they worked in tandem with the magic of the Pegasus. Swage continued, “You have very weak Pegasus magic and your wings are not big enough to compensate. Unfortunately, at your age I don’t think they will ever be big enough to make up for the difference.” “So I’ll never fly?” she whimpered. His heart ached for the little filly. He found a lump in his throat as he spoke. He was ruffling the filly’s mane as the words left his mouth, “I can get you flying, I promise.” He had no idea where the words had come from. His mouth felt alien as they were spoken, but he had said them nonetheless.
QuenchJourneyman: (1) One who has fully served an apprenticeship in a trade or craft and is a qualified worker in another's employ. (2) Middle English, from journey journey, a day's labor + man The wooden frame for the Apple’s plow had come in that morning. It was good workmanship. Swage was continually impressed at the talent that laid hidden in the little town. Now he took to assembling the contraption. He had made all the parts over the past few days, working smaller projects in between the stages of the large project. It was easy work from here out. He even thought about letting Scootaloo do it. Since their meeting, Scootaloo had made a habit of hanging out around the foundry when she didn’t have anywhere better to be, while Applebloom seemed to avoid the place. Which both confused and disappointed Swage. She took to the craft so well. He had hoped he had found his apprentice; which he was starting to need badly. The past weeks had afforded him little time for his research. The town seemed to have a never ending backlog of work for him. He had no illusions that Scootaloo would have a cutie mark in smithing of any kind, but he put her to work when she hung around nonetheless. Normally paying her by bringing dinner back to the shop. He found she did well with monotonous tasks. He had even let her have the job of punching the holes in the feathers for his wing. She ruined a few during the learning curve, it was worth it to him though. She would happily punch holes and chat, allowing him to do more productive work that paid the bills. They had also become something of hopeful flying-buddies. Swage telling stories of the things he used to do and the lessons he had learned, while she talked about all the things she planned on doing once airborne. “Uhh, I need to pick up an order” A sandy feminine voice called out from the far side of the workshop. Rainbow Dash stood at the counter. She had a pickup-ticked in hoof. Swage let out a nervous chuckle walking over to look at the ticket. He had met her at the party, but only in passing. “Are you picking up for somepony else?” he asked. More to fill the silence, already knowing the answer. “Yea, I’m here for the Apple’s new plow” Swage checked the ticket out of habit, it was the receipt for the plow. “Give me a second. I was just finishing that up” Swage gave every bolt one last torque before hefting the plow to the counter. Dash pulled a letter from under her wing and laid it on the table. “He said he still owed you the credits with Applejack.” She nudged at the heavy plow and scowled. “Now how the hay am I getting this back to his place?” A little crooked grin crept out on Swage’s face. “Hay Scoots! Get the cart and help Ms. Dash take this home. I’ll have a hot pie waiting for you when you get back.” Scootaloo took a moment to digest what had just happened. A slow nod was followed by a frantic scramble out of site. Faster than expected, she came around the building with the cart in tow. It was a small cart, but is still looked ridiculous being pulled by the filly. With the plow loaded, the smithy watched the two start the trek to the Apple farm. It would take a good hour before she was back. He knew he would be hearing about whatever conversation she and Dash had for the next week, if not longer. But now, it was dinner time. “I hope Granny Smith made her dumplings for the cart today” he said aloud. Hanging his “back in 5” sign on the door. Scootaloo hummed as she pranced back towards the shop with the empty cart in tow, it drummed loudly across the wooden bridge leading back to the market. The silence of the wheels hitting the dirt road was quickly pierced by an urgent “Pssst” calling from the shadow of a nearby building. She froze as a chesnut unicorn approached her from the shadow. He continually looked back towards the marker with apprehension. Her instinct was to run from the stallion, but a plaintive look in his eyes made pause and see if he needed help. “Who are you and what do you want?” she asked defensively. The unicorn seemed to realize his own awkwardness. He relaxed with a nervous chuckle. “O’ sorry, I’m Quench. Are you Swage’s apprentice?” Scootaloo tilted her head at the question. “No, I just hang around the shop.” Quench looked surprised at the answer “Idle hooves, make for Discord’s servants.” He said as almost a question Scootaloo giggled, “Yea, he says that a lot. Then gives me busy work.” She paused for a moment. “How’d you know that?” A hearty laugh rolled out of the unicorn “We spent a lot of years with the same Earth Pony.” The smile fled from his face as he looked again towards the market.. “So, is he staying busy? How’s his new wing coming along?” His whole body projected a deep concern for the smithy. Scootaloo fidgeted in her yoke for a moment. She didn’t feel threatened anymore, but the whole situation still struck her a strange. “He says that he had a big breakthrough with the wing, but he hasn't got to work on it. As for work” she let out a nervous giggle. “If nopony walked into his shop for three months, he’d still be working on what he has now.” A shadow crossed the fillies face and she dug at the dirt with a hoof. “He’ll never have time to work on... the wing.” Quench’s ears perked up as he spoke “Well now. Master quench has more work than he can handle. Lets go give him a hand shall we?” Turning towards the market he gestured for Scootaloo to follow him. She watched the stallion as they crossed the market together. His initial energy faded quickly, apprehension now played across his face. As they neared the shop he stopped, she thought he was about to run the other way for a moment, before he fixed himself with a look of convixion and continued. Scootaloo darted around back to put up the cart, leaving Quench standing just a few meters from the front door. With the cart in its place she let herself in through the back door, that let into the little kitchen. Just as promised there was a hot pie waiting for her on the table. Several half empty containers around it attested to Swage having already eaten his fill. She was just reaching for a plate of her own when the bell on the door announced a customer. Instead of the usual friendly banter she heard Swages voice echo with anger “GET OUT OF MY SHOP !” Running around the corner she looked into the shop to see what was happening. She found Swage standing stiff behind his tools, visibly suppressing the urge to throw something, and the unicorn just a inside the door with his ears and neck held low, in sad submission. A long awkward moment held before Quench broke the silence, still looking at the floor. “Swage, please, let me help you.” The Master smithy was quivering with anger. “No, I think you did enough last time you helped me.” The unicorn seemed to get his resolv back as he approached the smithy. “”Let me help out.” “No.” was the only response he got. “Fine, be that way.” Quench said before pulling himself into a formal posture and looking the Master smithy in the eye “Master Hammer, do you have a days work unfinished?” Swage’s eyes popped wide before turning into daggers. “Yes I do.” he hissed through his teeth “I am a Journeyman of the guild and seek a honest days work.” The unicorn’s words had a ritual cadence to them. The cadence was returned by the pegasus. “Then a days pay for a days labor brother” The last word rolled off his tongue like a curse. The unicorn held like a statue, while defeat played across Swage. The room lay silent for a moment till it was broken by the Master smith. “I open at seven. I expect my forge hot and my tools clean. Let yourself in. Till then Journeyman... GET OUT OF MY SHOP !” The unicorn gave a formal nod and a “Yes Master” before leaving quietly but quickly. Swage feigned to start back at his work. Picking a hammer up as if to see what the thing was, he looked at it and the forge a moment before putting it back and dousing the fire. There was some food left and he was going to have a second pass at it. As he turned the corner to the kitchen he found the little filly looking up at him. “What just happened?” she asked, worry clear in her eyes. “He invoked the right of the Journeyman. I can not deny him work if I have more than I can do myself.” he paused a moment, the answer looked to have sparked more questions than it answered. “Guild laws” he answered before she asked. “And please, lets leave it at that for tonight.” He walked past the filly into the kitchen “You want some pie?”
MemoriesSwage plodded down the stairs that led from his bedroom to the kitchen. Reaching for a can of sweet oats, the smell of fresh coffee found him. Looking to the stove he saw a percolator steaming with a cup sat next to it. It struck him as a strangely affectionate sentiment. ‘Why Scootaloo would... No, it’s a school day and she wouldn’t let herself in...’ His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of movement in his shop, the memory of Quench came rushing back to him. He tried to block the thought form his mind, at the very least simply not acknowledge it till after breakfast. Testing the coffee with a tentative sip he sighed ‘Yep, just how I like it’ With two cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal in him he faced the doorless portal that led into the shop. He stood in the door for a moment as he surveyed his shop and decided he needed one more cup of coffee. Returning to the shop with cup in wing he made his way to where Quench sat quietly putting the finishing touches on several projects. He had no idea when the unicorn had gotten there, but it had to of been at least two hours ago. The room had been cleaned and all the shutters opened. His forge had a pile of red coals in it and he could tell all his tool had been rubbed in oil. Standing over the Journeyman he watched him work for a moment. The unicorn didn’t acknowledge his presence though, instead remaining engrossed in his work. “Journeyman,” the pegasus saluted coldy. Quench stopped his work and gave him full attention, but was met with silence. Swage’s gaze scanned the work station. Eventually he picked up a shovel that he had made a few days ago, but hadn’t had time to heat treat yet. The rich blue color of the steel told him Quench had already hardened and tempered it. Now it waited its turn with several other projects to be ground and polished to what ever finish they were destined for. Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything wrong with any of it. /// Quench patiently watched the smithy put the tool back where it had been and walk away wordlessly. It would take him a good two days to catch up on what Swage had already started, but he had looked at the Master’s work ledger; it would be weeks before he could fully catch up on all the work. His talent was in all the little things that needed to be done to metal after it had been shaped by fire and hammer, hardening and tempering in particular was his best topic. If he could get Swage to focus on what he did best and leave the finish work to him, his old friend would have the time and bits to focus on his wing. Of course, getting his old friend to speak to him again would be good too, but he wasn’t going to press that just yet. Today he would be nothing more than the best Journeyman he could be. There had been too many years of silence, guilt, and resentment, to fix in a day. He had forgiven himself, now he had to do what he could to set things right. /// Swage rubbed at his severed wing, it was aching again this morning. Reading over his work ledger, he took to planning out his day. A good deal of what he had intended to do was now in the care of the unicorn. Grabbing up tickets for work he had not yet even begun, he sat about starting his work day. Standing tall over his anvil, he pounded out a large piece of iron. He had pulled the tickets for some of the heavier work that he had been putting off. Yesterday they were big projects that he wasn’t sure how he was going to fold into the workload. Today they were something to keep his mind occupied. His entire world was the little bubble around his forge, consciously blocking out everything more than a few meters from him. As the Master smithy worked his bellows and anvil sighed and rang in an ancient rhythm. The same steady beat that has echoed through every foundry since ponies had learned the secrets of fire and metal. His body moved from memory, he didn't need to think about what he was doing, it was all reflexive. He was trying very hard not to think at all, he knew his emotions would get the better of him if he gave his mind any leash. A sound from outside his self imposed exile crept into his awareness. Between the sounds of the bellows and hammer her heard a chanty hum, something about it boiled his blood. He froze mid swing and glared at the unicorn in the corner. He was polishing something with an absent minded smile, like the glow of his expression would add the the brightness of the metal. /// The sudden silence of the smithy left Quench’s humming the only sound in the room. Startling at the sound of his own humming he looked up to see the smithy’s face screwed up with bitter emotions. The unicorn’s jaw slacked to say something, but instead he just looked back down to his work and continued working in silence. A small sigh of relief escaped him a moment later when the anvil started ringing again. Quench watched the Master out of the corner of his eye as he worked. The pegasus had a angry look, beating the metal more than working it. Most of what he has started that morning was finished and he had been quietly sneaking the pieces from Swage’s work space as he finished them. He intended to start in on them after lunchtime. The clock’s chime only reinforced what his stomach told him, it was in fact time for lunch. Swage for his part hadn’t acknowledged the time, or anything else, since he caught him humming some hours ago. Deciding it would be best if he just excused himself as descreatly as possible, he stood and meekly announced “Lunch, back in thirty.” to the room more than to Swage directly. Lunch had been a well deserved break. The little cafe around the corner had hot tea and cold sandwiches that were the perfect midday reset. Pausing a moment to brace himself before going back in, he opened the door and glided back inside. He was greeted with only the quickest and coldest look when he entered. Another piece sat finished by the forge and he was already well into another project. Scooping up the piece the by the forge as he returned to his corner, he added it to his own pile. Getting ready to start back at it, he took stock of all the things Swage had made that morning: two pans, a stock pot, three door hinges, door latch, an axe, a pitchfork, and various parts for somepony’s wagon. ‘Maybe this won't take two weeks to catch up’ he thought. He had heard stories about how, after they had let Swage out of the hospital, he would just work till he passed out, only to wake up and start working again. If Pigiron didn’t have work for him, he would just make something, melt it and make it again. Some said he had given his soul to the forge. He worked like the possessed and the metal moved before his hammer ever touched it. Now he knew they were right. His friends soul laid in the fire and he was going to pull it back out with his bare hooves. If only he knew how. /// At the end of the day Swage found himself alone in the shop with the unicorn. It had been a very long day. With the tools hung in their proper spots and the floor was swept, he went to his till and pulled out twenty bits. Tieing them off in a pouch he threw it at the unicorn, who caught it with his magics. “You have been paid for the day.” the pegasus announced. Quench gave a small nod “I will be here again in the morning Master Hammer.” “Of course you will.” Swage sighed dismissively as he turned his back and retreated into the kitchen. He waited for the sounds of the Journeyman leaving before collapsing onto a chair, exhausted mentally and physically. He needed to eat, he hadn’t eaten all day, but he wasn’t hungry. Instead he just laid his head on the table. Trying to relax he let out a big sigh, but his breath failed him, it shuddered out as his eyes went wet. Another deep breath and he was sobbing on his kitchen table. His mind far too fuzzy to even sort out where the outburst had come from. Scootaloo ploded her way through the center of Ponyville on her way home. The Crusader attempt today had been to throw a Pinky Pie style party. While it had turned into a fun evening, nopony had gotten a cutie mark for all their troubles. It’s was a little past the foundry’s closing time when she passed by. The lights were still on, on the ground floor. ‘He always shutters the place before retiring for the night, he must still be working on something.’ But as she approached, the shop is was eerily quiet. Looking through a window she found the workshop cold and empty. An uneasy feeling settled on her. Running around back she leaned up onto the kitchen door and looked in through its window. She could hear him even before she saw him. He sat with his forelegs cupping his head crying. It was a hard mournful cry and it paralyzed her. Forcing herself to move she stepped down from the door. She wanted badly to just run in there and try and cheer him up, but she knew the smithy better that that. Still, she had to do something. ‘I need to talk to Quench’ - - - The Ponyville Inn was a clean safe place, but still an odd place for a filly to wander into late in the day. The friendly looking Earth pony behind the desk greeted her as she approached “How can I help you?” “Is there a Unicorn named Quench staying here?” The clerk looked over a large book for a moment before giving it a nod. “Yes. Would you like me to send up a message to him? I’m afraid I can’t just give you his room number.” “Ugh, yea. Tell him Swage’s friend needs to ask him about something” Scootaloo found a quiet corner of the lobby to wait while the clerk trotted up the stairs. It was only a few moment until the Unicorn came back down with the clerk. He was clearly tired and his coat still had black stains from the day’s work. “Hello again” he chirped as he took a seat near her. “You said you were friends, but then he was angry when you showed up last night. Now, I go by the shop and find him crying.” She stopped not having asked a question, but clearly looking for answers. Quench shrank as he listened to her. “We... We were best friends. Grew up just a few houses apart in Canterlot. I was already in my third year of apprenticeship when he got his cutie mark and convinced my master to take him on too.” He paused and looked up from the floor to meet her gaze. “The next two years we lived like brothers. Slept in the same room, ate from the same table.. When I got my Journeyman licence, I stayed nearby. I was going to keep working there till he got his Journeyman. Then we were going to be wandering-Journeymen together, see every inch of Equestria. Hop from one foundry to the next learn everything we could.” His uneasy smile reminded Scootaloo of old stallions telling stories of days gone by. His eyes seemed far too old for the rest of his body. “So, what happened?” she asked. “Three months after I became a Journeyman... There was an accident. The accident. A lug pulled through a large sheet of metal. Swage was right underneath it when it fell. I did everything I could to keep it off him, but my horn cracked under the effort. It hurt. I just couldn’t power through the pain enough. If I could have pushed it just another foot...” As the unicorn’s words trailed off. She tried to imagine herself in a similar situation with the other Crusaders. “But, you still saved his life, didn’t you?” Letting out a long sigh he sank back into the cushions. “Yea. That’s what I tell myself anyway. But Swage... He blames me for the whole thing, and I did too. So, I took a job out west and left before he even got out of the hospital.” A clock’s chime told her she had to be getting home. Getting up to leave she met the unicorn’s eyes again. Still she thought of her two best friends, What would they have done? “Please, don’t give up on him.” She wished she could have said more, but it was all she come up with. Leaving the inn she made quick work of getting home.
OutburstsThe Cutie Mark Crusaders were gathered in their clubhouse. The mornings had finally become warm enough to start their weekend brunches again, a chance to enjoy a meal with each other and talk calmly about the week. It was an idea they had taken from Rarity last summer. “You ok Scootaloo? You’ve been quiet today.” Applebloom asked. “Yea, just thinking.” Scootaloo replied. The previous night’s conversation at the inn still haunted her. Her face betrayed her concentration as she put together a question in her mind. “If something bad ever happened... really bad, to either of you, and I was there but couldn't stop it, would you forgive me?” The sudden seriousness of Scootaloo’s question caught the other two off guard. Applebloom spoke up first “Sometimes bad things just happen and you can’t always stop them Scootaloo. There’d be nothing to forgive.” “But what if it cost you your horn Sweetie Belle, or a leg Applebloom?” Sweetie Belle reached across and place a hoof on Scootaloo “Then I would need you more than ever to help me adjust to my new life.” Applebloom gave a nod of agreement to the statement. A little tear in the Pegasus’ eye quickly invoked a group hug. “Whatever got you thinkin' such morbid thoughts?” Applebloom asked. “I met one of Swages old friends the other day. Learned some personal things he probably wouldn’t like me sharing. But, l feel really bad for him now.” She let out a sigh of resignation “I want to help... but I just don’t know how.” “I know I’d feel better just having somepony that cared around. It’d be horrible to be hurt and alone.” Sweetie Belle commented. Applebloom again agreed with her friend “Maybe you should spend the day with him.” “I thought we were going to go crusading today.” The pegasus asked. Her tone was of one seeking permission. “We've still got tomorrow, and besides there’s only a week of school left. Then we’ll have all the time in the world” Sweetie Belle assured her. Scootaloo couldn’t believe they were encouraging her to go help another friend at the expense of a day of looking for their cutie marks.“Really? You’re ok with me ditching, to help at the shop?” “I’d be disappointed in you if you didn’t.” Applebloom chided. Scootaloo sat back down and picked at the meal. A moment of thought set her resolve and a smile grew on her face. “Thanks girls, you’re amazing friends.” With the meal returning as the center of attention the conversation turned back to lighter fare. It was a little after noon when she walked into the market district. She was heading towards the shop when Quench caught her eye. He was sitting a table eating a sandwich, he looked tired. “Rough day already?” she asked. “Hay Scootaloo!” The unicorn greeted her. “Yea, tiring anyway. What brings you around?” She took a seat at his table. “I was going to help around the shop today... Swage on his lunch too?” “I doubt it. I wish he would eat better than he does” The Unicorn sighed. Scootaloo scowled at the idea of Swage going hungry all day. “I’ll bring him some food then.” Hopping down she started to trot off, but was interrupted when the Unicorn rested a Hoof on her withers. Holding a small stack of bits he pressed them into her hooves. “Take this. He’d never take food from me, but I can still pay for it” He said with an earnest smile. “Thanks” she said returning the smile. She decided to get him something he could eat while working, that way he couldn’t protest the food with the excuse of ‘no time to stop and eat’. The puffy fried vegetable stand fit the bill, and better yet there was no line for it. Walking up to the stand she was greeted by the friendly cook. “Can I get two medium orders and two cold teas, and make the vegetables mostly sweet potatoes” She asked placing Quench’s bits on the counter. The food was all good here, but the batter fried sweet potatoes were main reason why ponies eat here. “Sure thing.” the cook said, already dropping the order in the hot oil. The bell on the door ringed out her presence as she entered the shop. Swage gave her the barest of a nod and smile as acknowledgement of her appearance. He was talking to Mr. Cake. She didn’t listen to the conversation, but the tied together stack of pans told her he was picking up his order from the other week. If she remembered correctly, that was on the books to be done early next week. ‘He’s ahead of schedule’. She quietly examined some half-finished projects while she waited for them to wrap up their business. When Mr. Cake proudly trotted out of the shop with his new purchase, she went behind the counter and sat down the bag of food next to the smithy; he was already back at work on something. “I brought you lunch” she chimed out. “I need to finish this” was his only reply. She smiled as she laid the paper cone and drink on a counter near him. “I know, That’s why I picked up snack bits” The smithy eyed the food but didn’t stop working. “What is that?” “It’s batter fried veggies. They use cold batter though, so it puffs up all crunchy” Taking her own serving out she popped one in her mouth and smiled as she chewed. “Try them, the sweet potatoes are the best.” She gave the smithy space, taking her food and drink over to the writing desk to sit. A satisfied grin spread across her face when, between pulls of the bellows, he reached for the paper cone and popped a morsel in his mouth. “Mmm, those are good,” he commented. She guessed that the first bite had awakened his appetite, because soon he worked stealing bites of food and sips of tea into the rhythm of his work. “Thanks for bringing me lunch,” he said turning to look at her. It was the first thing he had said since commenting on the first taste. She was taking their trash up when the door rang again. Before she could see who it was, Swage moaned a deep but brief “Ugh.” Quench took to his work station in the corner like a ghost. She watched Swage’s mood change. He had loosened up but was again withdrawn. Deciding to join the silence for now, she returned the the writing desk and looked over his work log. She had learned the ins and outs of his book keeping over the past few weeks. The desk was badly out of sorts. She did her best to channel Twilight for the better part of an hour, sorting, alphabetising, and arranging by date. She had just finished her self-appointed project when Swage’s voice broke the silence. “Scootaloo give me a hoof over here for a second.” She found Swage wrangling several large objects at once. “Ok. How?” she asked a bit confused. “I need both hooves to hold the tongs for this, so I need you to hit it with that sleg.” Scootaloo looked at the sleg he had mentioned. It stood twice her height and the head looked to weigh half as much as her. She let out a spritely laugh at the mere idea of her lifting it, let alone shaping hot iron with it. Swage was busy with the tongs in the fire when she laughed. The look he gave her told her that he was serious. “You’ve lost your mind if you think I can swing that thing.” she said with a laugh still in her throat. The smithy let out a nervous chuckle “I suppose you’re right” ‘This is something Quench should be doing. Why didn’t he ask him?’ she thought “I got it.” the unicorn announced from behind her. A blue field of magic enveloped the sleg, as if answer question. “It’ll be just like old times.” Trying her best to not be under hoof, she watched Quench. He had a jovial grin as he readied the massive hammer. The smile was ripped from his face though when the Master smithy barked at him “Get back to you station Journeyman.” Not even looking at him as he spoke. She could tell Quench was hurt by the command. She thought he was going to shrink back to his corner, but he surprised her. He stepped a little close to the Pegasus “Swage, You’re not going to be able to do that by yourself.” “I’ll figure it out” He rebuffed. Still bothering with the forge and the metal heating inside it. “Swage! Just let him help you” She chided. “I don’t need his help again. Last time he tried to help me I lost a wing” The smithy spitted bitterly only half turning towards them. Quench looked like he had been struck. He stumbled closer the the Pegasus as the sleg he had been floating tumbled to the ground. “I did the best I could, I saved your life.” he stammered. “Nopony could have known that lug would pull through.” The good wing brushed the Unicorn away “Yea, saved my life” Scootaloo looked away and fidgeted a moment before delivering a glare to the belligerent pegasus. “SWAGE! He did everything he could, and he was you best friend!” Anger boiled in his throat “I KNOW! And he was my best friend...” The rigid smithy wilted, all but collapsing onto the floor. His voice cracked and barely whispered “That’s why he should have known to let me die.” Whatever will was holding up, left him with those words. Her jaw dropped at the confession, she thought poor Quench was going to faint for a moment. Swage looked absolutely deflated. “HORSEAPPLES!” Scootaloo yelled. The vulgar outburst from the filly made her the focus of both the stallions. “What the hay is going on here, that a blank-flank filly has to be the adult!” She glared from one stallion to the next, Letting out an irritated nicker between them. “You!” pointing to the Unicorn “You left your best friend when he needed you the most.” Quench shrank away from the berating, the sad lines on his face growing deeper. She turned her frosty glare down on the Pegasus “And you thought he should have let you die. What kind of nonsense is that?” A spark of anger perked Swage up as he poised to speak. Before the first sound left his lips he was cut off by the filly. “Oh, but I’ll never fly again,” she sang, thick with sarcasm. “Ya know what? I’ve never flown, and I’m doing fine!” The anger left his face with the verbal blow and shame found its way into the Pegasus’s heart. He had promised to help her fly, but he had given up on both their dreams just to sulk. She had to stop and breath. “Get your act together, both of you. I’m going home. Let me know when I can find some adults in here.” /// Swage and Quench both watched as the little fireball stormed out of the building. “You find some scary fillies Swage.” the Unicorn said flatly after the door closed. “You’re not still mad about the one I brought over to your apartment are you?” Swage asked. “You mean the one you bucked in my living room or the one that ripped the door off the bathroom?” “Same mare” “I lost my deposit over the door” the two shared a chuckle for a moment before the Unicorn spoke up again. “I’m sorry I ran away.” “You didn’t run away. I chased you away.” Swage dug at the stone floor with a hoof. “You did the best you could, and I just blamed you for the whole thing. I was a coward, wishing you had killed me when I didn't have the courage to do it myself.” "Swage! It took courage to live." Quench rebuked."You're strong, stronger than most." The Unicorn reach out to the hoof picking at the floor and was surprised when it didn’t retreat. “I, I could have tried harder. If I had just pushed it a little differently.” Quench watched his hoof as it was gently covered by another. Swage’s voice cracked as it found the will to speak. “And maybe it would have taken my fool head off. How would you have lived with that? You did the best you could and what happened, happened.” “Still, I should have been there for you.” Quench protested. Swage laughed softly. “Be glad you weren’t. I was a jerk for a few years. I’m sure Pigiron would have kicked me out, if he hadn’t felt guilty about the accident.” “You’re still a jerk” The unicorn commented. “I know.” Swage looked everywhere but at the unicorn, this time not because of anger but embarrassment. “So you going to stop feeling bad for me?” “Only if you let me help you.”
MomentsTwo earth ponies walked through the market with Scootaloo between them. The orange and blond stallion wore an old green canvas jacket covered in buttons and patches. His mane long and unkempt framed an unfocused and happy gaze. The mare’s coat was purple and her mane made the relationship to Scootaloo unmistakable. She was toned and walked with a confident focus, her mane styled short and slightly spiked. Each of the three ponies had saddlebags in various stages of being filled from the weekly ‘family trip to the market’. Scootaloo was still a bit irritated, but she was really trying to make the best of the day. When their foray into the market brought them near the foundry, powerful blows emanating from it begged for their attention. The three gazed curiously at the stone building, though each for a different reason. “O, Hay! That’s where you been hanging out right?” The stallion asked A sigh gave away her feelings on the subject. “Yea. Dad.” The mare perked up at the comment. “If you’re going to be hanging out with grown stallions, I want to meet them.” The matriarch declared as she made a straight line for the old building. The rest of the family followed her as if attached by strings. Scootaloo didn’t want to come right out and say she was mad at the two idiot smithies, so she had to just play along with their curiosity. As they approached the shop they all paused. Between the blows, or rather in rhyme with them, a song was echoing from inside the building. “The hammer sings, through the anvil’s sharp ring, so come boy and ring your anvil. A bellows sighs, never tells lies, and it’s breath sets embers a glowing. The iron that glows, throws sparks from you blows, so come boy and swing your hammer. Dose any colt know where Celestia’s love goes, when fire and sun both burn you. Let the sweat on your brow, hiss on your steel, so come boy work your iron.” Scootaloo and her mom traded confused looks while her dad swayed his head to the slow folksy tune. “Reminds me of a Light Hoof song. I should have brought my guitar,” he commented before opening the door. The bell interrupted the song abruptly, leaving a scene that made Scootaloo rub her eyes in disbelief. The two smithies were facing each other with the anvil between them and Quench had the massive hammer floating in the air. They were both grinning like idiots, and the shop was a wreck. It looked like a bachelor pad, work and food wrappers strewn everywhere. Swage crammed something back into the fire before addressing the family. “Hey, Scootaloo. These your parents I’ve heard so little about?” Her dad took to investigating the room while she and her mother approached the counter. “Ugh, yea. This is my mom Wild Oats and that’s my dad Granola.” “We run the Barley and Oats sweet-feed mill,” her mom interjected. Standing just across the counter from the smithy, she was examining the room with casual precision. /// Swage perked up at the comment “Really? I love your barley and sorghum breakfast blend.” “Aww, thanks dude, I worked really hard on that one.” Granola replied from the far side of the shop. He was wandering about the room like a balloon. Occasionally being waved away from something dangerous by his daughter. Swage fidgeted under the presence of Scootaloo’s mother. She took her fashion cue from the bygone punk movement. The combined hard muscle of the Earth pony and the lanky frame of her recessive Pegasus heritage, gave her a powerful presence. He bet that ten years ago she would have been called cocky, age had tempered it down to just predatory confidence. “Please tell me it is not normally this messy in here.” She said, not really a question. The Pegasus looked around as if just realizing the state of the room. “Yea, It’s normally a lot cleaner. We sorta pulled an allnighter.” The expression on Wild Oats softened a bit as she replied with an “Oh.” She seemed to take that as a perfectly acceptable excuse. He jolted as one of the many conversations Quench and he had over the night, came back to him “Mrs. Oats, I actually have something to ask you.” He received a calculating stare from her when he paused after the preface. Continuing under the glare he asked. “Would it be ok with you, if I offered your daughter a summer job. I’ll give her three bits an hour and I’d like to have her work four hours a day, with weekends off... As soon as school lets out of course.“ She turned with a playful smirk towards her daughter “Scoots, your call. You want to work the mill with you dad for your normal allowance this summer, or in here for money. Either way I’m making you do something over the summer.” The filly cocked an eyebrow at the question. “Ugh, He pays more.” “Yep.” her mother agreed “But that also means you start paying for your own entertainment and food when you’re out with your friends. Also we’re going to sit down and talk about how adults handle their money.” The smithy felt a bit bad for Granola. He looked like an abandoned puppy all of a sudden. It didn’t go unnoticed by Scootaloo ether. The two had a quiet conversation in the corner that ended with smiles and hugs. “I’m in. I’ll start next Monday,” the filly announced. Swage smiled at the answer “Great! ‘Till then, get out of here and go do something fun.” “Did you turn the desk upside down and shake it!?” Scootaloo asked with indignation. It was her first day on the clock. She had decided to start with the last thing she had done, which was organize the writing desk. What she had assumed would be an easy re-straightening, was instead going to take up the first half of her day. An air between the two stallions told her she wasn’t going to get an answer. The rest of the shop was clean but cluttered. It was the sort of clutter that spoke of a full workload that was steadily being completed. “Here’s to getting a cutie mark in bookkeeping.” she sighed as she took to putting the paperwork back in order. Swage stifled a snicker at the fillies ranting. His talent was fire and metal, not bookkeeping; that was just a necessary evil and one that he had never had to deal with till recently. It had been a good first day. She was surprised how many little tasks could pile up around the shop. Her last chore of the day was to bring lunch back to the shop. She had been given five bits with directions; two double-daisy burgers and hay-fries, no drinks, and keep the change. It had come to four bits, so she just held on to the last bit. She knew the girls would want to eat when they met up in an hour. Letting herself in through the back door she placed the food on the kitchen table. “Food’s here” she announced to the room, not seeing anypony when she entered. Quench’s head appeared out of the door to the study. “Thanks! Before you head out for the day you should see this.” He motioned anxiously to her. “We’ve been working on it in the evenings.” When she entered the familiar room she was shocked into wide-eyed wonder. Swage was sitting with his eyes closed, the picture of introspected concentration. The skeletal wing was perched on his back, it mirrored the slow deliberate movements of the other wing “WOW!” she exclaimed. The Pegasus’ eyes sprung open with a smile when he heard her. Though he gave a little wince at the sound of the apparatus hitting the ground. “Still a long way to go” he commented at the lifeless frame now crumpled on the floor. “Unfortunately I haven’t made much headway with your problem” he said looking over to Scootaloo as she browsed the room. “I’m sure you’ll think of something” she casually replied as she picked up two shining brass almost-rings off the floor, each lacked a small bit of metal from their circumference. “What are these?” she asked. “Scrap. An experiment that didn’t pan out,” Swage responded. “Can I have them?” She asked with a foal’s energy. “Sure.” Without hesitation she contorted herself with wings stretched out and gently forced the makeshift bangles onto the base of her wings. The shining yellow metal rings swung and danced on the limbs as she flexed them to test the fit. “How’s it look?” she asked “Very pretty.” Quench replied. “Sweet! Well, I’m out of here. See you tomorrow,” and with that she made quick work of leaving to go find the other crusaders. “Hot date in an hour! Need to go get a shower. I’ll see you in the morning.” The Unicorn bolted out as he finished his end of the day routine. The clock had rang five just a few moments before. “If you’re late I expect a good story.” was the only response Swage gave him, he was still in the middle of shutting down for the day. “What poor mare...” he pondered out loud after the door had closed. ‘Tools up, fire cold,’ he began the final check list, ‘anvil cleaned, floors... ehh I’ll leave that for Scootaloo’ Satisfied that everything was put right, he exited the building himself. It was out for a relaxing meal, then he would spend the rest of the night working on the wing. With his meal tray in mouth he looked for a tree to sit under and enjoy his dinner. Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Looking towards it reflexively, he saw the hulking red stallion Big Macintosh waving at him. Rainbow Dash was sitting across from him “Come sit with us.” she called. Turning in place he made his way to the large table. “Thanks” he said once the tray left his mouth. “How’s that plow treating you?” he asked looking towards the stallion. The response came from Dash in the form of a sharp laugh. “He treats the thing like a yearling. Cleans it, Oil’s it, and puts it to bed.” “What? I want to keep it nice.” Mac responded between bites of his meal. /// Rainbow Dash studied the pegasus. He smiled when he talked, his and Mac’s conversation was light hearted stallion banter. But the moments of silence where he was left to his own thoughts an air of melancholy settled around him. She had no desire to even imagine what losing a wing would be like. Though she knew he was lucky to have a special talent that had nothing to do with flying. That was probably what had kept him alive. It was about half way through the meal the she realized he always kept his head pointed down, just a little. “How come you're always looking at the ground?” she asked, the thought that it might be rude only dawning on her after the fact. “Clouds,” he meeked out between mouthfuls. “Can’t stand to look at them.” “What?” jumped out of her throat. Bringing her hooves up as if the cram the word back, she stammered “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t ask.” “It’s strange I know. But there is what I miss the most.” He pushed the scraps of his meal away and slowly looked up at a distant cloud. “I still played cloud-fort games when others my age wouldn’t be caught dead acting so silly.” “It’s like the games foals play in the deep snow.” Dash answered Mac’s unvoiced question. “But way more fun” Swage added on. “I haven’t touched one since the day of the accident.” A sigh punctuated the memory. “Really!?” retorted the Pegasus mare, only to vanished into a chromatic streak. Swage was a bit startled by the sudden disappearance, but Mac just gave him a shrug that said ‘she does that sometimes’ /// He had very nearly convinced Mac it was time for a new set of horseshoes when the earth pony gave a quizzical look to something behind him. He turned casually in his seat to see what was there. The wall of white that met him sent him tumbling out of his chair. It was then that he realized it was a cloud. Dash sat atop the white puff. “Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckled. Though, he was a little doubtful about that. Standing up he was unable to take his eyes off the cloud. He hadn't been this close to one since he last flew. He could have gotten a ride to Cloudsdale anytime, but never had. Early on he had avoided the trip because of how easy it was... to just walk off. Later he had resented everything the place stood for. Finally he had decided not to go back ‘till he could fly their himself. Dash watched the smithy from atop the cloud, it was about twice the size of a wagon. She couldn’t help but grin when she saw the smile on his face and wing flutter. He placed a hoof on it a concentrated a bit, soon the cloud gave way and started reshaping to his will. He was a natural cloud handler. She was a little jealous that she didn’t have him on her weather team. A moment later his head popped out of the cloud near her hooves. His grin reminded her a bit too much of the one she wielded right before a prank... The cloud beneath her opened like a mouth and closed again just as fast, leaving just her head sticking out of the cloud. They both snickered like foals for a moment before Dash extracted herself. Flying back to the ground she rejoined Mac. “Have fun, Don’t get it higher than you’re willing to fall. We’ve got errands, but I’ll see you around.” and with that the two left him with his cloud. ‘Hmm cloud surfing. I hadn’t even thought of that.’ He gave his wing a hard flap; the first one in years. His flight muscles burned with the effort, the cloud moved just a bit, he smiled a death’s-head grin. Scootaloo had spent the afternoon with the girls planting trees. Applebloom’s sister’s idea of getting a cutie mark in arbory had sounded good, but she suspected that they had just been tricked into farm work. She was about halfway home when something cool and moist struck her hard enough to knock her over. It was like she had bit hit with a cold pillow. Standing back up she found a mysterious cloud floating just a few meters above the ground. Another white puff ball flew out of the cloud at her. She managed to dodge that one. Suddenly rolling laughter bellowed out from the center of the cloud. She almost fell over again when Swage appeared on top of the thing. “How’d you...” Scootaloo stammered. “Rainbow Dash pulled it down for me” He answered the half finished question. With a lopsided flutter he pushed the cloud to the ground. “Hop on!” he beckoned. “Uhh, how?” she hesitated. Swage was honestly stumped by the question. “You just press into it...” There was a bit more than that to cloud shaping, but for the life of him he could find no words for it. He watched as the filly tentatively touched the cloud then leaned into it. It was an elastic but firm barrier that thwarted her best efforts to climb its sheer sides. “You've never shaped clouds either have you?” “I play with fog and the little ones that wander low sometimes...” Swage stomped on the cloud sending shards of vapor into the evening sky, quickly making a ramp for her to get to the top of the cloud. /// Scootaloo was surprised at how firm the cloud felt. After she had gotten on top, Swage had pushed it back into the air, if not by just a few meters. “This is so cool!” she exclaimed. “Remember how I got you to feel the wind?” Swage asked. “Sorta do the same thing with the cloud.” She watched him run his hoof into the vapor and pull the surface into an abstract shape. Following suit she jabbed her hoof at the cloud, trying to pierce the surface but found it solid. “You're moving a cloud, not squashing a spider; move slow, think fluffy thoughts” the elder Pegasus lectured. Trying again she laid a hoof on the surface and imagined it being enveloped; to her surprise that’s exactly what happened. Once she had immersed into the vapor, she found it like shaping pudding. “Very good,” Swage congratulated her. She had just started to really get the hang of shaping the cloud when she realized the sun was setting. “Pony feathers! I need to get home.” She blurted out with a mildly frantic look. “It’s going to be dark before I get to the house.” “Why, it’s just a few kilometers isn’t it”? He asked in earnest. “It’ll take me half an hour to walk that!” Swage pushed a lump of cloud towards her “Cloud surf” While she hadn’t heard the term before she knew what he was suggesting. She had seen Rainbow Dash drive clouds around when she was too tired to actually fly. She supposed it wouldn’t be much different than her scooter. Leaping onto the torn free chunk of cloud he had offered, she buzzed her wings. The thing took off with a streak and seemingly indiscriminate in its direction; reflexively she clutched at the vapor, startled by her own acceleration. With a few wild starts she finally got the hang of aiming the thing. After that it only took a few minutes to get to her doorstep, the sun had not yet disappeared from the sky. /// Swage watched with something of a father’s pride as the filly careened into the dusky night. The rings she had put on her wings rang wildly as they beat against each other. The staccato beat stirred something in the depths of his mind. He had an idea and just maybe the answer to her problem. But, he would work on that tomorrow. Till then he was going to enjoy his toy while it lasted, it would be gone soon enough. With easy lopsided flaps he guided his plaything back towards the shop. He was going to sleep on a cloud tonight.
Dreams and PromisesIt is not the words that matter, they evoke emotions; emotions bring intent It is not the movements that matter, they evoke the soul; the soul brings purpose It is not the materials that matter, they evoke the mind; the mind brings reason Scootaloo pushed the shop door open, it was the start of another four hour day. It was work, but it was fun and she liked having a little money to call her own. “Hi Scoots,” Swage greeted her as the door closed behind her. He had started using the family nickname a few weeks ago. Ever since the day with the cloud, he had been riding a manic high. He spent untold hours in his study working out his ‘new theory’. Much to the detriment of his sleep. He looked to be in a good mood. But, she doubted he got more that a few hours of sleep last night. Her efforts to convince him to pace himself were all rebuked with variations of “I’m too close. This can answer both our problems!” “Where’s Quench?” she asked, realizing the the Unicorn was absent from the room. “How’s the research going?” The smithy put down his work and dusted himself off a bit, “He took the cart down to the train station, picking up an order of bar-stock that came in.” Walking towards the study, he beckoned for her to follow him. “I’m making progress. Quench has been a lot of help. I can’t actually see the magic like a Unicorn can.” Scootaloo trailed into the arcane workspace that the enchanter used, it still gave her a sense of awe being in the room. She realized the Crusaders had not tried enchanting yet, or any ritual magic. Wondering what a cutie mark in such arts would look like she looked to Swage’s. It was such a simple one, yet rather expressive; a flying anvil. “Your cutie mark is in enchanting, right?” she blurted out in a sudden change of topic. The smithy blinked at the question. Looking at his flank as if expecting the answer to be written there. “No, actually.” Ignoring the confused look from the filly he walked over to a bookshelf. He gently took up a well-loved teapot in his mouth and presented it to her. “I got my cutie mark making this.” he said proudly. “You’re special talent is making teapots?” she exclaimed. The smithy laughed at the filly's balk. “White-smithing. Which yes, includes making teapots, cups, plates, pots, pans. Anything made from copper, tin, or silver sheet.” “Really?” the filly held the confused look. “Then how’d you end up learning enchanting?” “Desperation.” the smithy sighed. “I knew I could hone my talent enough to be able to make a metal wing both strong and light enough to work. But I needed magic to animate it. So, I taught myself ritual enchanting. I just thought of it like cloud shaping, but with metal.” “So you were a natural at it?” she beamed. “No,” Swage chuckled, “I was horrible. But I practiced for hours every day. I tried to add some minor enhancement to everything I made.” The filly lit up with an optimism that only foals can express. “Can you teach me how to do magic?” Even if it wasn’t to be her special talent, it would be really cool the know a little magic. “I don’t know” the enchanter blurted with a surprised look. “I’ve never tried to teach that. But what the hay, let me finish up a few things and I’ll walk you through it.” Scootaloo danced a little circle, chanting “Yesyesyes.” “But first” Swage interrupted her, placing a hoof in her head. “I need to take a few measurements from you. Go stand in the middle of the room like you did the first day.” Several esoteric devices were positioned around her, after she took her position. “Just relax. Don’t focus on anything particular, and let me know if you feel anything.” he instructed. It was hard to be bored while all the devices clicked and whined around her. Swage’s constant attention to them was no less interesting. She had just noticed his attention rhythmically switching between herself and a new device, when a shiver ran down her spine. It was that, still new, sensation of feeling the wind. She had learned to tune into the scene over the past weeks, but this had come to her unbidden. Her body twitched a bit at the sensation. She was about to say something, but Swage had seen her reaction. “Good.” he mused. He made a few notes before disengaging the devices. “All right. we’re done in here.” Leading her to the forge, the smithy stopped and considered his student. “Can you dance?” he asked. “Ugh... yea,” the filly responded “Why?” “Enchanting, or ritual magic, the kind of magic that any pony can do; it’s like dancing. The oldest Pegasus and Earth pony magic was done through dancing you know.” The Swage picked up a small hammer and mimed the basic motions of his craft. “It’s you, the tool, and the piece you’re working on. Nothing else exists, and you have to blur the lines between the three. the tool is not an extension of yourself: it is just you.” Trading the hammer for some tongs he plucked up a half finished pot and examined it. “Love the thing you are working on like you would a dance partner; feel it, move with it.” “Ok, but how do you actually make the spell?” the filly asked Swage paused at the question. It was a good one and he didn’t have the answer. “By, force of will?” was the best response he could give her. It just occurred to him that there was too much of a knowledge gap between them for him to be a useful instructor on this topic. She either needed to be a passable smith or already familiar with ritual magic. She was neither and that robbed him of all his vocabulary. With little smirk he placed the pot back in its resting place. “You’re meeting the crusaders after work today right?” An excited little nod confirmed the answer to his question. “I have an idea for all of you then. Go to to the library and ask for some books on ancient Earth pony and Pegasus dancing magic. Twilight will know what you’re looking for. A little orange ball of specially alloyed gold and copper hovered about Swage. It shined in the light of lantern and magic. Dancing about the Smithy’s body, a careful eye could find a pattern in its movement. It held in the position where the elbow of the missing wing should be. Swage’s air of concentration slowly faded into one of curiosity. Looking back at the golden mote, he gave it a satisfied grin as it’s movement blurred through a tight arc. Bringing a hoof up to it, he tugged at the orb. He’s whole body shuddered as sensation echoed through the invisible limb; the ball was firmly stuck within the ghost of his long lost wing. A giddy smile streaked across his face. Needing one more good test he approached a wall and smacked the ball against it as hard as he could. “Ahh! Horseapples!” he yelped. Reflexively he cupped the orb in a hoof. Pain radiated from what had been eternal numbness. But, his little test was still there, still firmly in place. The door next to him flung open “You alright!?” Quench blurted way too loud. “Yes, yes, I’m fine” Swage grumbled. The little orb drifted in front of Quench’s face. “What this?” He asked slipping into his sixth sense. He found the enchanted mote lodged in the knuckle of the phantom limb. A subtle energy resonated between it and the wing itself. “Did you make a breakthrough?” “Nope!” the Pegasus chirped. He gave a little grin at the Unicorn’s sudden confused look. “Solved it!” he declared, raising a hoof to his friend, invoking a hoof bump. “What? How?” Quench stammered through a grin. “I was working on Scootaloo’s problem, when I realized we really had the same problem” the enchanter commented as he made a few notes on the wall turned blackboard. “But, I’ll give you the full theory later. First let me turn this thing off.” The unicorn again slipped into his other-sight to watch his Master work. While he had seen the unorthodox method of thaumaturgy, he still didn’t fully understand how he did it. He knew it took a lot out of him though. While ritual enchanting was something Swage could do all day, he could only cast one or two spells before needing to rest. One of the first thing Swage had gotten him to do, after their reconciliation, was to learn the spells that had made up the second half of several of his products. The enchanter took his poise of concentration to gather his inner magic. Quench noticed that his phantom limb was already glowing brighter than it normally did in its resting state. Though, that was expected with the magical-active object woven into it. Swage focused his will into the missing limb, but it did not deform onto the grasping claw that the enchanter did his work with. Fidgeting a bit, he poured more magic into the wing. Quench was sure it was glowing even to normal sight now. Still, It’s shape held fast. The enchanter broke his focus and looked at the Unicorn with a bit of panic “I can’t use my magic!” He felt claustrophobic all of a sudden. He had been able to peel away that stranger part of his self for so many years, now it was again trapped in physical bonds. “Quench, see what you can do.” Lighting up his horn, he delved into the aura of the enchanted device. It was more complex than he expected. While he knew theory on enhancing, both ritual and spell based, it was never a focus of his studies. He was a quick learner, but he just hadn’t had time to practice. With a gentle thought, he tried to pull the spell thread out of the orb, but let the effort slip when the pegasus yelped in pain. Quench shook his head and stepped back from the enchanter. “I’m just not familiar with this spell,” he warned. “Watch the shop. I’ll be back in a bit. Just tell Scootaloo that I’m running errands when she comes in.” the Pegasus moaned. Swage wandered into the library, looking for Twilight. If anypony could get this thing off him, it was her. “Hi, Swage,” the librarian called out as he entered the room. “Anything I can help with?” Sinking into a defeated sigh, he moved the invisible wing so as the golden mote levitated above his head. “I’ve got a problem” Twilight perked up at the sight of the enchanted ball. “What’s that?” she asked “It’s stuck,” he complained as he rummaged through his saddlebag, producing a stack of notes. “Here’s my theory so far. I wanted to do a test run. It worked, but now I can’t separate my magic from my soft body. I’m trapped.” He gave the invisible wing a flap to illustrate the point. Taking up the notes in her magic she gave them a quick once over, intending to properly study them in a moment. Turning her attention to the enchanter, she bared down the full weight of her magical scenes on the little object; Swage felt his body tingle as her magic enveloped him. After an intensive investigation of the device and it’s notes, the Unicorn laid down a reference book that she had conscripted. “That’s quite a piece of work you got there” Twilight chimed. “Why can’t I use my magic? Thanks.” he casually scanned one of the books she had brought over during the examination. “Because that little thing is doing what you designed it to do” she replied. “It’s doing the same thing your flesh did. Holding your soft body into a defined shape.” Swage blinked, lost in thought for a moment. “Oh wow. I didn’t think of that.” Taking the offending ball in hoof he pondered it for a moment before letting out a nervous laugh. “I’ll still be able to do ritual enchanting.” Swage paused a moment. His unique brand of spell casting was not his special talent; it was a hard-earned victory over his disability. ”But, once I have my wing back, I’ll never cast another spell.” Pausing again he gave Twilight a meek look “You can get this off... Right?” Twilight gave him a confidant nod, “Yep.” Lavender energy gathered around her horn before reaching out to the target. Swage’s skin crawled at the strange sensations before hearing the metal orb hit the floor. He looked down at it to find it slowly rolling away from him. It suddenly struck him as rather morbid. Placing a hoof on it he arrested it’s movement and pondered the object for a moment. The Pegasus rolled the artifact towards his rescuer. “Keep that and the notes if you want to study them for a bit. I owe you” Swage chewed his words for a moment. “You know, I spent years learning to shape spells, so that I could get my wing back. Now, I’m a little sad to know I’ll be losing some of my magic for the wing.” “Swage,” the Unicorn prefaced, she was reading his notes and had a tone and posture that tattled on her years spent in the tutelage of the Princess. “I don’t think you really understand what you’ve done here.” Her voice trailed a bit as she read over the stack of papers again. “You can help ponies, a lot of ponies with this. If you can replace your wing, you can replace other’s wings, legs too. And with a little work, this could be modified for Unicorns and Earth ponies.” The unicorn’s words staggered him for a moment. He had never thought past the moment when he would affix the metal surrogate to his severed stump. She was right though. This was bigger than him now. “My notes. I’ll publish my notes. Others can play healer. I’m just a smithy.” The librarian gave him a motherly smile. “This is uniquely yours Swage. I could cast the spell portion, but it would take years for me to learn the ritual techniques you use to prepare the materials.” “I learned at the hooves of far better enchanters than I. They could easily do this.” he rebutted. Twilight held the firm but caring demeanor. “And it would take them years to learn the spell shaping portion required.” She laid a hoof on the visibly troubled enchanter. “I’m not asking you to give up on your dream. Just think about how you can do the greatest good.” “Quench!” he blurted with a crooked smile. Earning him a confused look from the mare. “I can teach him the spell theory, and I can still prep the materials.” A concerned frown snuck out from Twilights lips. “No offense Swage. But, that’s pretty advanced stuff you came up with. Not every Unicorn will be able to cast that.” A mischievous cackle erupted from the smithy at her concern. “Oh! Remind me to introduce you to his parents. You three can lament about his wasted talents. He had a free ride to Canterlot Arts and Magic before he got his cutie mark in metalworking; heat-treating specifically.“ Twilight blinked. CAM scholarships were no small honor, to have simply walked away for a live-in apprenticeship was a serious level of commitment to his calling. “Well, if he needs any help, I’m here. Don’t hesitate to ask.” “Scootaloo, Swage is drunk. Help me get him upstairs.” Quench called out across the shop. “I am no such thing!” the Pegasus retorted. “Look, I need a Unicorn, I need a talented Unicorn, and one that has a background in fabrication and enchanting. That’s you.” he said pointing a hoof at Quench. “You’re better at enchanting than I’ll ever be.” Quench sighed. “It’s not that I have anything against becoming a full business partner with you. This is a lovely town and work is plentiful. But, I don’t get why I’m suddenly so invaluable to you.” OK, he supposed he had burst into the room and started rambling out his plans without much preface. “My magic, where I use my phantom wing; that you always tell me looks creepy.” He waited for a nod of recognition from the Unicorn. “Once I bind the prosthetic wing, I’ll never be able to do that again. Only regular old ritual enchanting for me.” “Oh,” Quench deadpanned. “So you need me to replace the wing... that you replaced.” Swage tilted his head with an honest air of concern. “You make it sound like an insult. We have a chance to start a whole new profession here. We can take this technique and give ponies back their quality of life.” “But you could do this by yourself” Quench replied. “Yea, I could. I could just not undergo the process myself ,or maybe I could figure out a way even with getting my wing back.” Swage sat on his haunches and placed a hoof on his friends shoulder. “Either way, I don’t want to work alone and I think you and I do better work together.” A crooked smile grew on Quench’s face. That was the answer he was looking for. He would be his friend's ally and partner, but he would not be another tool to hang on the wall. Reaching out he mirrored the hoof on his shoulder and drew the Pegasus in for a quick hug before grasping him in a hoofshake “Deal.” he pronounced. “Awww!” Scootaloo cooed at them just a few feet away. The two stallions jolted from the unexpected comment; she giggled at their reaction. “So, you’re going to be able to fly again?” Swave gave her a smiling nod. “Thanks to you” The filly just gave him a confused look. “I had my eureka moment while trying to fix your problem.” he continued. “Oh” the little pegasus chirped, trying to look excited, but obviously a bit disappointed. Scruffing her mane, “I haven’t forgotten my promise Scootaloo,” he said bending down a bit to get eye level with her. “You’re actually going to be a lot easier than myself, if not a bit dangerous. I still need a few weeks though. I have to get Quench up to speed and I need to make a set of talismans for you.” “Really!?” the filly beamed “Yep, two, maybe three weeks” The confirmation sent Scootaloo into a skittering whirl of whoops and cheers.
FallingScootaloo trotted up to the foundry, her mind was a little fuzzy. To say she had gotten no sleep that night would be perfectly accurate. The three of them had watched the dawn rise and sleep never once crossed their minds. The lack of rest seemed to be catching up to her now though. A pegasus chariot was sitting with its two attendants outside the shop and she had no good explanation for it. “What’s with the chariot?” she asked as the bell on the door announced her arrival. Swage poked his head out from the kitchen, “You got a better way to Cloudsdale?” “No,” she uttered in confusion, turning to look out the window at the two waiting pegasi. “Scoots... What’s on your flank?” Swage asked with an impish tone. The question prompted a head to appear out of the study. “Well, congratulations!” Quench chimed. “I want the full story later, but you two need to get going. They charge by the minute you know.” Swage trotted out into the shop, taking a heavy-looking saddlebag from Quench’s levitation as he passed. “He’s right, come on lets go” “I’d like to buy a clue.” The filly deadpanned. “Hmm, Oh sorry.” Swage apologized. “Your talismans are done, I’m going to get you flying today, but we need to go to Cloudsdale for the last ingredient.” This was all a bit too much for Scootaloo. Trapped between shock and exhaustion she quietly followed the older pegasus to the awaiting transport. Swage smiled at the animated filly as she narrated the events of the previous night. “... It was like some part of me connected with the tree, we could move each other. The dance, the song, and all the little decorations seemed to give it a direction.” Scootaloo’s attention drifted and her gaze fell over the railing of the carriage. “I still can’t really explain it. It was exhilarating. I... I just can’t find words for it or stop thinking about it.” He knew the look in Scootaloo’s eyes, obsession. She had found something that captured her heart and soul; dancing and magic, what a combination for a pegasus to have. He was a little sad, he would be losing his office mare soon. Though, he was glad to see her starting to find her own way. A shape caught his attention on the horizon. Nudging Scootaloo, he pointed to a thick cloud bank, “There it is, Cloudsdale.” /// Scootaloo watched from the chariot as Swage paid his tab and scheduled the return trip. While he had jumped upon the cloud-world the moment they had stopped moving, she had yet to steel herself for the leap of faith. She had been on clouds before, but the one Swage had played with was the largest until now. “Alright Scoots, lets get going,” the older pegasus called. There was six kilometers of air between her and the ground. She took the leap of faith true to its name. Eyes tight shut and breath held, she sprang from her perch and dove with all four legs into the nimbus matter. She landed hard enough that it hurt a little. The cloud was as firm as damp soil to her. Eyes open she scampered to catch up with Swage, craning her head in every direction to take in her new surroundings. “So what exactly are we here for?” she asked “Well, I need an air elemental and they only roam the upper clouds and winds. So we’re going to Anvil Head park and see if we can scoop up a little one.” Swage told her wistfully as he scanned his surroundings. Again, the answer to her question only made her more confused “How do you catch an elemental? Isn’t it going to be mad about it?” Swage turned a corner of the meandering sky city. It was evident to the young pegasus that, while some concessions were made for wingless ponies, the city was meant to be flown around, not walked through. Her next question was going to be where this park was. But, that was answered by the vista of a massive anvil shaped cloud towering above the far side of the city. With the exception of the weather factory on the other end of the city, it was the highest point she had seen. “Common elementals are more like plants than animals, just made of pure magic. I’m going to seal it in your left wing,” came the belated answer to her question. “Pardon?” she blurted. “The talismans I made you. They go on like your bangles. They’re what gave me this idea in the first place.” Swage looked back to check her reaction to the information, she seemed to be digesting it with concern. “The right ring is a bit more complicated, It will blur the line between you and the elemental; allow you to use its magic.” The one winged pegasus stopped to face her. “And tomorrow I’m using that same technique to bind the wing in my shop to me.” He beamed. “What about helping other ponies?” Scootaloo asked blankly His smile only redoubled at the question, “Quench is good, he’s already learned what I can teach him about the spell-half of the process. And this won't stop me from making the parts. It’ll take a few months, but maybe we can have our first new clients by Hearth's Warming.” Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Jerking his attention towards it, “No way, they're still in business!” he exclaimed. Scootaloo followed the over-sized foal as he made straight for a group of market stalls, eventually stopping at a whimsical looking booth simply labeled ‘snow creams’. “Dessert first, then lunch.” he told her as he exchanged bits for slush filled cones. “We’ll be a while getting to where we’re going, don’t want to get hungry.” The two flightless pegasus were exhausted by the time they reached the flat of the anvil head cloud. The tall rolling mountain of clouds gave an impressive view of the pegasus city, it also suffered stronger winds that most of the city did. It was these wild winds that brought the enchanter here, prime hunting ground for the elemental that Scootaloo would soon play host to. Swage surveyed the white rolling field and picked a spot to rest. Unfurling a rug from his pack he laid it down. It was an extremely common sort of thing. Nothing more than thick cloth with a weak cloud-touch spell bound to it. But, today it was invaluable to him; it would be his only place to lay tools. Unfortunately the enchantment it held also caused some eddies in the aether around it, so the work would have to be done just a few steps away. The carefully prepared rings were pulled from their case. Each made of an alloy whose formula was as old as enchanting itself, a careful blend of gold and copper. The fresh cast alloy so was malleable on the aether that even a stray thought would be recorded within in it. He had spent two nights working on each of them, shaping them by force of will as much as heat and tools. Their aura skillfully crafted. One, the vessel of a very special spell and one to ensnare a wild air elemental. Each was just a bit bigger than needed to go around the base of Scootaloo’s wing, giving room to grow and still leaving them a loose fit. The rings were not yet perfect, rather having ends that were flattened and overlapping. The overlapping sections had a small hole through them, a home for the rivet that would bind the ends together forevermore. Laying them on the rug he placed the two rivets along side the ring they belong to, each in a vial Quench had prepared for them. A simple spell would turn the rivets white hot the moment the seal was broken. A few tongs, a hammer, and a hoof-sized steel block were then produced from his saddlebag. Swage noticed that Scootaloo’s excitement had again turned to anxiety. “So, how’s this going to work? What do you need me to do?” she asked. He knew the better she understood the process the less nervous she would be. Pulling one last object from his bag, he laid a heavy cotton cloth over one of his forelegs. “I’ll wrap your wing and withers with this cloth, so I don’t accidently burn you.” Taking the steel block, he laid it on the cloth he was holding and took up one of the rings in his free hoof. “Then I’ll put a hot rivet through the holes in the ring and hit it with a hammer against the block” She didn’t seem to like the idea of being on the receiving end of a hammer blow, which was understandable. “Don’t worry I’m not hitting very hard and the block will take the brunt of it. It’ll just feel like a pat on the back. Laying down the ring for the hammer, he rapped the block to demonstrate the amount of force he would be using. “OK,” she blurted. “I’m ready when you are.” She seemed to have her confidence back, though he knew she was still a bit on edge. Giving her a nod, he laid the towel across her withers and tucked it around the base of her wings. Taking her brass bangles off, he replaced them with the Orichalcum bands, that he would soon bind to her with rivets and magic. Grabbing the rivet vial and the tools, he moved away from the rug. The first ring was the easy one. It only needed to be stitched into her aura. Separating that stranger portion of himself from its old form, he grasped at the white-hot rivet as it slid out of its vial. A simple spell bound it to the filly and a sharp blow of the hammer, the rivet, ring, and filly, became one. “You ok?” He asked, relaxing before trying the much more daunting second part. “Yea, felt a bit strange, but I’m good,” her voice held more confidence than it had earlier. Returning to the rug he fetched the next ring and rivet. He took a moment to sit and let his energies settle. When he returned to Scootaloo he had to be at his best, it was going to be a wild ride in the best case. Scootaloo felt the enchanter resettle the rag and block on her back. Looking over her shoulder she could see the pegasus had his eyes closed. A moment later, the severed limb shot sparks of magic as a glowing mass emanated out of it. It was no different that what she had seen every unicorn produce before a spell, but something unsettled her. The smithy poured every ounce of himself into the strange part that could peel away. Tools held in wing and hoof, eyes shut against distractions, he began the ordeal. There would be an elemental here somewhere. He spread the energy of his phantom wing as wide as he could. If only he had a unicorn’s sight, he could simple catch it like a butterfly. Instead, he was casting a net made of his very soul, in hopes of feeling one. He strained at his inner reserves forcing the net wider. Holding the effort was exhausting. Fear loomed over him that he would lose focus and drop the spell and he didn’t know if he had the strength to try again today; then something tugged at the net. His consciousness raced through the spell’s wires until it found the cause. He had found his prey, the kilometer-wide web collapsed like an umbrella. All the points finding their home in his target. He had the energy firmly in his grasp now. In steady measure, he began the process of dragging it back to him through the aether. It fought him every inch of the way back as he pulled it toward him. But, in little time he had it pressed against himself. The raw energy of the elemental air writhed against him, trying to flee back into the wild winds from which it had been plucked. Splitting his energies, he kept hold of the elemental with one thought, while turning to the ring with another. The moment of truth came with frightful speed. Forcing a part of the elemental into the ring, he felt the ripples of the other ring’s spell grab and meld it together with Scootaloo’s aura. Now he had only to seal the thing. Cracking the vial he dropped the rivet in place and raised his hammer. One swift blow and this would be done. Time slowed to nonexistence as Swage felt the astral entity blaze in power. Horror gutted him as he felt the elemental pull back through his hooves; dragging with it, what little pegasus magic Scootaloo had. The spell had done it’s job, but the elemental had it’s own ideas on who was keeping what. The thing slipped free of him, leaving Scootaloo without any magic. The filly would be dead in another heartbeat if he didn’t do something. He jammed that stranger portion of himself into the ring and he felt the bite of the merging spell. His head spun, but he managed to drive the hammer home and set the rivet. It hurt in the familiar way all smiths know, like when accidentally hitting a limb with your own hammer. /// All the hair on her body stood on end as she felt some great force brush against her. She felt the enchanter fidget with the ring and block on her back, then heard the glass break on the vial. Suddenly she was acutely aware of every little wind and air current around her, something was happening and it felt wonderful; she had never felt so alive. Then it all slipped away as everything drained out of her, black threatened to overtake her vision and her heart labored to beat. She was dying, but she did not. Life sprang back into her and she again knew the wind moved all around her. Something brushed against her and movement caught her attention. She turned, expecting the excited face of her friend, but found nothing but a hole in the cloud next to her. She didn’t think, she just jumped. Through the cloud she fell, but falling wasn’t fast enough. She buzzed her wings, but their old rhythm was gone. Her wings grabbed far more air than they should have. In place of the hummingbird like beats she had always known, was a hard steady beat; the two rings sounding out each flap. Clearing the bottom of the cloud she could finally see Swage, lifeless and falling. A few more hard pushes. Muscles, before unknown to her, burned like fire. Just a little closer.... She willed her wings to push at the air harder and reached out till she felt her shoulder wanting to come loose of its socket. The distance shortened by inches till she had finally crossed it. Clutching him tightly, she began to fight gravity. But, he was heavy and she had been running on pure instinct and adrenalin. They were falling together now. She could only do her best to slow the descent. /// Swage blinked and the world changed. Strange colors replaced the ones he knew. The sky was lifeless black, save for the harsh sun. Scootaloo glowed like a fire and the rings on her back shone like stars. Writhing electric fibers twisted around the talismans and into the filly. His confusion compounded when he felt something pass through him and into the cloud under him. Looking between his own legs, he gawked as he watched his own body plunge lifelessly through the cloud. ‘I’m dead’ He was watching himself fall, when something else passed through him. It was Scoots this time; she had jumped after him. Before he could even process this new event, an invisible force jerked him down into the hole. Some heavy chain was dragging him to the earth far below. He watched Scoots chase his corpse. He was rather proud of her, she was flying rather well for her first real try. He only hoped she didn’t over do it and lose control. Instinct told him to look up, they were being chased. A wicked looking beast was chasing them to the ground. He felt it more that he saw it. It was what he had tried to bind to Scoots. But, that was no mindless elemental. In his blindness he a found a beast of the Aether; a thing made of magic and shadow. It was gaining fast, in only a moment it had not only passed him, but Scoots too. The filly had just caught his lifeless form when the beast slammed into it and vanished within. /// Scootaloo did her best to just hold her wings out and glide. She didn’t need to fly, just not fall. Despite her achievements, the idea of landing the both of them was not something she was looking forward to. It was no small relief when the limp pegasus started to twitch, then move his wings. ‘Wings!’ she let go in shock, tumbling a small distance before re-stabilizing her flight. Gawking, she stared at the leathery bat wing that now lived where nothing had been before. /// His falling had arrested along with that of his body. Now hanging in the air, he pondered what was happening to his old shell. It had been dull and lifeless, but the impact of the creature had given it a glow. His old wound crackled with energy he could not see through. A slight pull suddenly made him aware that there was a fine silver thread still connecting him to his body. The cord was what had made him follow it in the fall and it was now reeling him back in. He merged into his old form, like two bubbles becoming one. Except now everything was black. He was still aware, but confined to infinite darkness. /// “That fool has given me a body,” came a strange voice from her friends lips. Something deep inside her twisted. She knew she was in the presence of evil. “You’re not Swage.” she accused more than asked. “I am not. I was going to take your body, but that enchantment stopped me. Instead I just took all your magic as a snack.” Scootaloo hovered in place watching the malevolent grin warp her friends face, she had no idea what to do. “But... Where’s Swage?” she whimpered. “Dead.” he blurted. Turning his back to her, he flew away. She refused the explanation. Leaning forward she took to chase the abomination. She was tired, but she ignored her aches. Whatever had happened to Swage it was the result of magic and magic would be needed to fix it. She had to try, no matter what. The creature that had taken Swage’s body gave her no mind as she caught up to him. The rings on her back sang like a war drum. He saw her as no threat and he had better places to be. Scootaloo’s mind wandered back to the tree the night before. There, her friends had made everything so easy. The connection just happened, like the spirit of the tree had invited her in. Now she was trying to force the connection and she didn’t even know how to start. Closing her eyes, she reached out like Swage had taught her to when feeling for the wind. Except now she was probing for her friend. She felt something familiar through all the strange new sensations. Swage stirred within the strange beast that possessed his body. ‘He’s still alive!’ Urgency slipped into her. She had to do something and fast. The creature was getting more comfortable with its new body by the second. Soon she would have no hope of keeping up with it. /// Two bells rang out somewhere off in the darkness. Swage turned to face the sound as best he could assume direction within the void. Something reached out and touched him, it was warm and friendly; a stark contrast to the cold black that engulfed him. The ringing grew louder and sharper till it started cracking the blackness. Light and sounds filtered through the breaks in the void. He caught flashes of Scootaloo flying near him. “You will sleep now and forever” a crackling voice commanded him from the dark as the slivers of the world outside sealed back shut. The darkness weighed heavy on him and sleep pulled at him. /// The little wisp of her friends presence winked out. Heart pounding staccato to her wings, mind blank, determination fixed, she simply acted. Her will pressed upon the hollow spot where she believed swage still lived. Her spirit swelled and commanded her movements. She dove at the creature, landing on its back and pinning the two mismatched wings to its body; the creature wailed in surprise. Bringing her own wings close and high, like she had seen Rainbow Dash do during her high-speed dives, she gave up all effort to fly. They were at the mercy of gravity, but she could still steer the decent. “You’ll kill us all!” shouted the monster she was clutching. ‘Don’t think... Feel.’ Her heart pounded, she altered the angle of one wing and spun wild. The monster flailed in her grasp. She did not resist the violence, instead becoming part of the creatures movements. Their descent twisted and whirled through the sky. Sometimes gaining altitude, sometimes dropping like a stone. /// Swage was in a wonderful dreamless sleep when he felt somepony shaking him awake. Wordless but frantic, they wanted him awake. Consciousness crept back into him as he tried to open his eyes. If he had opened them or not he couldn’t tell, his world was black and was bone-achingly cold like he had never felt before. The touch shaking him changed. The presence was still pressed against him, but now it wrapped him in a tight embrace. The warmth clung to him desperately and he reached back to pull the life-giving heat closer to him. Breathing in deep, the cold non-air of the void was replaced with warmth. /// Scootaloo’s eyes were glazed as the ground approached fast. The wild aerobatics was all she knew. The beast cursed and thrashed in her grip. Despite all of its efforts to escape, she only pulled it tighter, mind and body. Then a spark deep within the thing she was holding pulled her closer. Not physically, but on that stranger level she was just learning about. Her body followed her heart as she threw out her wings as far as they could go, grabbing all the air possible and then some. They had been falling fast and now she traded the speed for lift. The two rocketed back into the sky. Scootaloo’s eyes watered from the pain of her wings. She pushed the pain far from her consciousness, only her and the abomination existed. The rings sang as she added force to the climb. She didn’t have Sweetie Belle’s voice to move her, they would have to do. Higher they went till Cloudsdale receded below them. Applebloom was not here to create an inspiring setting, she would have to find her own. It was higher than any pegasus had a right to go, but she pushed on. Where her strength came from she didn’t know and she didn’t ask. Magic transcends much, but flesh and blood still have limits. The air thinned till it refused either lift or life. Holding tighter than ever before she blacked out. /// A smile crept on Swage’s lips as he felt wind rush over him. He could almost feel his feathers catch air. He could feel his feathers rippling! Trapped in the black all his senses told him he was flying. Butterflies rolled in his stomach as he clung to every little sensation he could find. The darkness shrieked around him. The blackness cracked and flickered till he found himself looking through eyes he had no control over. Blue sky in all directions, even the ground had faded into sky. He wanted to scream with joy. However, he was merely a passenger in this body; he had no power over it. His heart swelled from the thrill of flight till he could feel tears in his eyes. The black had been banished, but he felt another crack in his prison. The tears were real, he had that much command of his old body. Something writhed inside him. “Take back your flesh and die in it.” a voice in his mind spat. The world took shape fully around him, the last of the fog cleared from his mind. He was unbelievably high and falling. The air so cold it pierced his pegasus protection from it. My magic? I gave it all to Scoots... Scoots!’ He looked frantically for her, only to realize she had been the clinging warmth all along. His mind raced to understand what all had happened. ‘Why did he have his magic back and what was this thing that had possessed him? It wasn’t an elemental, whatever it was... But, it was very close to one. Close enough for them to form a symbiotic bond or rather a parasitic one.’ He felt the entity try and escape him, but he grabbed at it with will alone. “In for a penny in for a pound my friend,” he chided back at the unseen. Whatever the creature had done to his severed wing, it had sealed his magic just like that orb had days before. But, he still had his will and while the entity was still within him, he could still shape spells within himself. His will once again pinned down the monster as that other part of him began it’s mental gymnastics. Lines of magic were torn from the creature and made his own. Hard earned experience and unbridled inspiration twisted and shaped the energy till he had formed a spell that was a living thing in its own right. Forcing one half of the spell’s construct around his captive, he placed his very soul in the other. If he wasn’t having to concentrate so hard he would have uttered a prayer. His inner will let go of the spell it had shaped and let it do its job. The world spun as the thing within him cursed things unspoken for two millennia. A few heartbeats later, the scream faded to silence; the spell had worked. The binding spell he had designed for Scootaloo’s talisman had worked just as well on him. Replacing his soul for the Orichalcum had been risky, but it worked. Opening his eyes from the deep concentration, he took full control of his body. The air roared past him as he fell. He felt the warmth slip off his back and Scootaloo became a ragdoll falling along side him. Reaching out before she had drifted too far her took her in his forelegs. The mismatched wings flicked at the air in reflex. The featherless wing sent new sensations into Swage that startled him. Surprise sent the wings out straight and they caught the air hard, almost causing him to drop the unconscious filly. He almost dropped her again as he strained to look at the new limb. He had no explanation of how the thing had manifested, nor did he have the wherewithal to think about it. That would be something to ponder later... Right now they needed to land. Cloudsdale grew large below him. He would have preferred going straight to the ground, but he was exhausted; far better to land sooner. /// White light filled scootaloo’s vision. She was laying on a cloud bed and her whole barrel hurt. Her eyes adjusted and she found herself in a hospital made of clouds. Swage was in the bed next to her, watching her in anticipation of her awakening. “Bad news,” her friend addressed her. “What’s that?” she moaned. Talking hurt and she already wanted to go back to sleep. “The Doc says no flying for either of us for two weeks,” he continued. “What!?” The fall, the flight, it all came back to her. She grinned, grinned till it hurt. The orange pegasus landed in the snow outside the foundry. She was looking forward to spending some time in the foundry over the next few days. In the past months she had hardly seen Swage, let alone visit the shop. Now, school was out for a few weeks and her tutoring with Zecora was on hold till the zebra got back from her family visitations. The door flung open just as she reached for it. A bright yellow earth pony with moist eyes startled at the unexpected meeting. He blathered out an apology in between a stream of thank yous that he kept shouting back into the shop. A glint of steel caught her eye and she realized one of his legs was more metal than fur.
Dancing in the MoonlightThe girls sat inside their clubhouse, huddled around a small pile of open books. The midsummer night air was warm and thick. Their sleeping bags laid unfurled besides them in a makeshift camp for the night. It wasn’t the first time they had spent the night here, it had become a bit of a treat when the weather allowed. Tonight was a little different though, it was official Crusader business. Twilight had been rather concerned when they had each checked out a book of ancient ritual magic. They had gotten a very long speech on being responsible with magic, even outright banning them from attempting several things mentioned in the books. The ‘pegasus war rite’ being the first on that list, much to Scootaloo’s disappointment. After each had read their book, they compared what they had learned and picked something to try; it was to be an earth pony dance of life. The ritual was said to breathe youth back into plants great and small. It also so happened that they had the required elements of the dance, that being a full moon and three mares. The images showed a carnival atmosphere. It was a revelry more so than just a dance, a celebration of life with song, dance, and elaborate decorations. The song was in old Equestrian. Twilight had deemed it harmless enough and helped them translate the words. Though in the end they had decided to memorize the old sounds and sing it that way; mostly at Sweetie Belle’s insistence. She felt that something was lost in the translation, the old words just held more intent to her. Sweetie Belle already knew a few songs in the old tongue, those folk songs that were passed down for mirth around the seasonal festivals. A little help from Twilight, and she had the phonetics memorized in just a few read-throughs. With a few hours coaching, she had the other two singing with passable diction. As for the dance, Scootaloo found it to be simple enough, a circle dance that repeated the same twelve steps. The large expressive moves seemed silly, but fun. It wasn’t hard for her to feel the purpose of the moves. Each step chronicled either a season, its passing, or a phase of the moon. She had the pattern down in just a few minutes, showing the others how to move was just as easy. Applebloom had the perfect place for the ritual. Not far from the clubhouse were some of the oldest trees on the property. The family didn’t even tend them any more, they no longer bore enough fruit to make it worth the effort. As long as they didn’t set the orchard on fire, any accidental damage would go unnoticed. Among the old grove, one tree stood out to her, she knew it was over a hundred year old, strong, and full of personality; she couldn’t think of a better target for the spell. Imitating the pictures as best she could, Applebloom readied the site. The tall grass was cut low and twisted into decorative ropes that she hung with care around the old trunk. Fallen branches were gathered and placed end to end in a circle around the apple tree, errant stoned moved and mingled into the pattern. What had been a twisted old tree in a fallow field, was now a bride awaiting her groom. Applebloom found the whole thing silly, but a bit familiar. ‘Granny’s Zap apple jam. All her silliness for the Zap apples; it’s a ritual, just like this.’ “Alright, It almost midnight,” Sweetie Belle announced. “Lets get started before it’s too late.” The three girls exchanged smiling nods as they filed out of the tree house and made their way to the prepared site. Three voices rang out from the orchard. The song was first sung before the tribes had unified, and there danced a filly from each. Their voices seemed to echo off the moon, as if Luna herself had joined the choir. Spaced evenly apart, they circled the tree again and again. Mechanical at first, but grins replaced looks of concentration and stiff movements became a fluid dance as the celebration of life took hold of them. Even the tree seemed enticed to join the merriment. They were having far too much fun to see what Twilight was now watching. The she had decided to surveille them that evening. They were trying to wield serious magic and she wanted to be there if something bad happened. They would have been insulted if they knew she was babysitting them, so she just camped out in the bushes a short distance away and observe quietly. Colors effervesced from the dancing fillies, the chromatic mist swirling around the dancing circle. Twilight found herself breathless as the old tree started to move; not much, but it had taken to life. The tree drank greedily of the vapor, green leaves and red apples manifested; cracked branches found their youthful form again. She had read about this, but it was a magic lost to an older time. ‘How had those three rekindled it so casually?’ The three stopped suddenly when the tree’s transformation had become too great to not notice. Hoops and hugs were exchanged as they marveled at their work. Twilight took it as a good cue that it was time for her to head back home. She would come back tomorrow and see what she could learn. For now she would leave them alone, they had a lot to celebrate. Still winded from their revelry, the girls group hugged in celebration of their success, Whatever they had done, it had transfigured the half-dead relic into a verdant fruit tree. Catching their breath, the Crusaders traded eye contact and turned to examine their flanks, as was their ritual. Stark silence filled the orchard as nervous stares passed between the girls. They were all rendered speechless while they tried to understand what had happened. A haggard black branch bearing a single apple bloom of brilliant color and exquisite detail. A silver bell, filigreed so intricately one could get lost in the pattern and bound with a crimson bow. A golden ring, bearing to white wings. The image blurred in some strange way that made you want to believe it forever turned and the wings trapped in mid-motion. “OK, so, what does this mean?” Applebloom asked. It was a question with many sides and they all knew it. “We did it.” Sweetie Belle’s voice cracked. “But yea, I don’t get it.” Scootaloo pondered her own mark, while listening to the others. Wings... She always knew it would have wings, that’s just natural. Flight is a constant dream, but what does the ring mean to her? She had expected this moment to bring answers, not questions. “Alright, think.” she mused aloud. “What does it remind you of, that we just did? Don’t think... Feel.” Applebloom closed her eyes and searched the past few moments. A content smile spread across her face as she started to speak, “The old tree, I made it young again; I fixed it. “When I was singing, I was really happy and I felt like I made the tree happy too” Sweetie Belle added. Scootaloo looked to the tree and reflected on her friends epiphanies, “Some part of me connected with the tree when we danced. It danced with me.” she thought aloud. Still the ring didn’t fit. ‘What does it mean?’ She twiddled her wings in a nervous fidget, chiming her bangles absentmindedly. Her eyes shot open as she knew what the ring meant to her, motion and magic. Luna sat on the balcony of her room, gazing at her moon; gleefully humming an ancient tune as she recited the words in her mind. She never looked away from her moon, even as Celestia unceremoniously plopped down beside her. “What was that?” the elder sister grumbled. Her lack of regalia and gruff appearance betrayed that she had been roused from her bed. “I felt an old magic.” “The fates my sister. They have placed three new threads into the loom. Our heroes for the next generation have found their mantles. And they did it while singing to me,” Luna recited. “Mm,” Celestia nodded. “Then it’s safe to go back to bed?” “Yes Tia. All is well this night” “Uh,” the goddess of day replied as arrhythmic hoof beats sounded through the room behind her, fading as she went back to her own chambers. “Love you too, sister.” Luna cheered. Author's Note Humor me. This chapter feel pretentious to me. But, I am going somewhere with this.
