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RogerDodger
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Interperetation
The young doe’s snow white coat rippled, muscles trembling beneath her skin as she convulsed on the gilded dias. Her ragged panting filled the air, the sound mingling with the soft hiss of escaping vapor.
A rattle broke the quiet, light metal plates shifting as a pair of armored pegasus fidgeted a few lengths away. One mare was a brilliant sky blue with a rainbow mane and the grey-plumed helm of a centurion, while the other was butter yellow with a pale pink mane that fell in gentle curls and a look of deep concern etched into her face.
Both were wound taut, and looked ready to leap into action, but a third figure held up a hoof and shook his head. This one was an imposing buffalo bull, a little portly under his tan coat, though he was impeccably groomed. The sky blue pegasus settled back, the tension in the chamber easing fractionally, though she coughed as a wisp of the acrid air tickled her throat.
One of the doe’s ears twitched at the sound, but she gave no other sign of acknowledging the onlookers. From beneath the dias vapors swirled forth, rising about the doe to embrace her like a lover. She took a deep breath and then another before she stilled.
A brittle quiet settled over the chamber. The doe’s head swiveled towards the group, parting the vapors like a snake through grass until her half-lidded gaze settled on the sky-blue pony in the lead.
“Speak.”
The pegasus stiffened, her wings half-unfurled. Danger she understood, but this ivory waif of a doe sent shivers down her back in ways that charging dragons never had.
No trace of tension was reflected in her voice. “Seer Shines Upon Us, I am Commander Hurricane of the pegasus. Private Pansy and I have come from Thunderhead for your guidance. A vast, unnatural blizzard has engulfed our territories and proved almost immune to pegasus magic – our efforts only make it grow stronger. Scores of our strongest warriors have already fallen in the struggle. You are said to possess knowledge beyond the limits of mortal equines. Tell me what the secret is to defeating this storm.”
Shines Upon Us said nothing, only nodding in response before her eyes shifted, gazing outward as if the chamber and its inhabitants had turned to wind and glass. Her head craned about the room, darting in fast but precise motions until she locked onto some point in the ceiling that looked the same as any other.
After several seconds, the doe shifted her gaze back to Hurricane and her voice came, now low and hollow, as if it was a far off echo.
“Dwellers of the high reaches, beware. Take care where you cast your shadows. The bitter cold is an echo. Without is as within. Follow your hearts. The three must become one. Only then will the tempest still.”
The young doe trembled like a leaf and blinked, her eyes coming back into focus.
The ponies shuffled their hooves as the room seemed to loose some of its otherwordly air. Commander Hurricane cocked her head as a robed attendant hurried in from a side room and helped the ivory doe to her shaking hooves.
“Is that it?” Hurricane said, her eyes narrowing as she watched the seer being escorted from the chamber.
The bull cleared his throat, puffing up his chest. “Yes, that is the wisdom of the great beyond.”
Commander Hurricane turned away from the dias, her brow already furrowing. “That’s gibberish. The question was about storm wrangling, and I get a few seconds of nonsense in reply. Since when does cold have anything to do with echoes? I need flight vectors, formations, or maybe some magic doodad we could get, not some vague mysticism.” Her tail lashed as she looked over at Pansy. “I applaud your initiative, Private, but it looks like your idea didn’t pan out.”
Pansy ducked her head under Hurricane’s gaze. “I don’t know. I’ve never experienced anything quite like that. I’m sure she was trying her best.”
Hurricane crouched, spreading her wings. “Maybe. But I didn’t fly all this way to get a load of yellow sleet. Loquacious Wit here is just lucky I haven’t demanded our money back. Come on, Pansy. Let’s get airborne.”
“Wait, wait!” The bull cried, losing some of his composure. “Look, I can explain.” Shine Upon Us always speaks truth, but the meaning of her words is not always clear. Fortunately, I have a great deal of experience in interpreting her messages. Stay a little longer, and I could help you to find the answer.”
Commander Hurricane huffed. “Why can’t she explain it herself?”
The bull shook his head. “The experience is overwhelming. Seers seldom even remember what they said afterwards. Come. Perhaps if we discuss it for a little while, the meaning will become clear.”
Hurricane snorted. “And let me guess. You’d want another donation for your additional services.”
Loquacious spoke slowly, choosing his words with the care of one walking on eggshells. “That would be… appreciated. But we would not insist.”
Pansy looked hopefully at Hurricane. “Well, we are already here.”
Hurricane sighed, but lowered her wings and wordlessly gestured ahead.
“I didn’t come here for tea.”
Commander Hurricane stared at the empty cup like it was mud. She pointedly looked away, her eyes roving around the small, wood-paneled kitchen. It didn’t have any of the ornate furnishings of the divination chamber, rather they sat at a rough wooden table with a simple sink to one side and the kettle was perched atop a small iron stove at the end of the room.
If her reaction bothered Loquacious Wit, he didn't show it. The bull moved with a care that belied his size as he removed the kettle from the stove and settled it in the center of the table. Ignoring Hurricane’s rolled eyes, he filled all three cups and took a moment to savor the wafting steam before he finally spoke.
“The tea is for a calm mind. I know it is not much, but we are a small sanctuary. Still, we do what we can to honor our guests, and see that your return is untroubled.”
Hurricane crossed her hooves. “You’d better, for the how much we donated to get that prophecy. We’re not exactly rolling in treasure, you know.”
“In fact, I do not know, but in any case, it is not my aim to take advantage of you.”
Hurricane waved her hooves. “Fine, fine. So let's get with the interpreting already.”
Loquacious closed his eyes and cleared his throat. “Dwellers of the high reaches, beware. Take care where you cast your shadows. The bitter cold is an echo. Without is as within. Follow your hearts. The three must become one. Only then will the tempest still.”
“Doesn’t make any more sense the second time.”
Loquacious took a sip of his tea. “It may seem so at first, but if one looks at the parts, it may become clearer. Bitter cold. Without as within. Perhaps the storm is a reflection of your own selves?”
“Are you saying we’re cold?” The blue pegasus snorted. “I’ll have you know that the temperature barely affects us pegasi. The problem isn’t the cold, it’s the wind shear, and the way it disrupts our strongholds.”
“Um,” Private Pansy spoke up in a quiet voice. “She also spoke about following our hearts. Maybe it wasn’t a physical cold?”
Hurricane looked thoughtful. “Hmm. Not enough passion? None of the pegasi we sent off were cowards, but it’s true that cloud-wrangling doesn’t really get the blood up. Not the same way as a good scrap does, at least.”
Loquacious’ ears had drooped at Hurricane’s last statement, and he quickly spoke up, “What of this blizzard? Perhaps I might be able to offer better advice on it if I understood the situation more clearly.”
“Well, the North wind carried it in a few weeks ago and disrupted a wing that was up foraging in the mountains. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse by the day. We can send some troops and corral it for a while, but it keeps roaring back. We haven’t had any luck foraging in weeks.”
“Hmm. You say the North wind?” Loquacious’ brows drew together. “Could that relate to ‘three become one?’ Perhaps if you could combine the West, South and East winds, that might prove the solution.”
Hurricane’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “It’s kind of obvious that you’re not a pegasus. That’s not how it works.”
Private Pansy set her cup down carefully. “It could be talking about the three tribes,” she said.
A smile blossomed on Loquacious’ muzzle. “Yes! Maybe you're supposed to come together and help each other stop the storm.”
Hurricane frowned. “No, that makes even less sense. Earth ponies can't do anything to fight a storm. But it could be the unicorns.” Her eyes widened. “They might even be causing it! We know unicorn magic can influence the weather, and they’ve been a twist in our quills for ages. We’ve just got to get serious about it, and then as soon as we take over, no more storm.”
Pansy’s ears drooped, and the cup shook in her grip. “That’s not what I was trying to…” her voice trailed off, before she took a deep breath and tried again. “I’m not sure if that reading fits. It says we should take more care in what we do.”
“Of course, it does.” Hurricane chuckled. “It fits the description perfectly! It doesn’t say for us to stop casting our shadows, but that we should use them more effectively. Three become one, and battle lust is the hottest emotion there is.” She turned to Loquacious and slapped a small purse down on the table. “Credit where it’s due. I guess your little discussion did help after all.”
Her muzzle curled into a feral grin.
“Come on, Pansy. We have work to do.”
The wind howled outside, but not loudly enough to drown out the rapping at the door. Loquacious opened it for just a moment, but that moment was enough for a lick of snow to swirl into the entry hall alongside the two earth ponies.
Both had travel worn cloaks plastered to their bodies which Loquacious took without comment, revealing a pair of very different mares. One was blindingly pink-on-pink and exuded energy, while the second had a pale orange coat, blonde mane, and mantle of the long put-upon.
“Be welcome, travelers. I am Loquacious Wit, keeper of the house of Vision.“
The pink one grinned. “I’m Chancellor Puddinghead and this is Smart Cookie of the earth ponies. We’ve come to find out about this blizzard, and how to stop it.” Her face curled into a pout. “The pegasi aren’t helping at all.”
Loquacious nodded. “Do you have a contribution?”
“Yep, here you go,” said Smart Cookie, gesturing to a heavily-laden bag. “One bushel of grade-A earth pony vittles. Sorry it ain’t no fancy gems or nothing, but it’s what we’ve got.”
The smile on Loquacious’ face was the most genuine he’d had in weeks. “That won’t be a problem at all. Come, and I will take you to seer Shines Upon Us.”
“Children of the soil, time passes. Bitter seeds reap barren fruit. Color fades to frozen white. Without is as within. Follow your hearts. The three must become one. Only then will the tempest still.”
Loquacious suppressed a sigh. Even the benefits of repetition didn’t make things much easier. It was a tossup as to which was worse, watching Shines Upon Us on the dias, or dealing with the dissatisfied questioners afterwards. There was a reason so many of his predecessors had fled to the monasteries.
Chancellor Puddinghead was already getting an odd look in her eye, and once more he quickened his steps.
“Look, I can explain,” he said, catching up. “Perhaps we can discuss the meaning over some tea?”
The Chancellor spun around on a hoof to look at him, her head cocked at an angle that made his neck hurt just to look at. “Hmm. I’m more of a coffee gal, but if you’ve got hot water, we can get you fixed right up. Lead the way!”
Three cups of coffee gave the kitchen a deceptively cheerful air, as Loquacious settled himself at the table once more. His brow was furrowed as he sniffed at his cup, but as the smell registered his eyes widened and his muzzle curled into an uncertain smile.
Smart Cookie blew on her cup with an air of contentment, though her eyes were drawn. “This doggone blizzard is making it almost impossible to grow anything. The only good thing that’s come of it is keeping the others from stealing our food quite so much, but now they’re starting to get hungry, too. I’d heard that this might be the place to give us a lead on what to do, but I can’t say that that prophecy of hers is doing very much of that.”
Loquacious shrugged. “Well, that may not be at first, but I’ve interpreted more than a few. Generally I’ve found it best to take the pieces apart, examine what different meanings they might have, and then reassemble the fragments to see which hold together.”
“Like a puzzle,” the Chancellor said, with a gleam in her eye.
“Exactly.”
Smart Cookie chuckled, “Makes sense to me, but of course you’ve never seen Puddinghead solve a puzzle before.”
Loquacious raised an eyebrow as Puddinghead’s grin grew even bigger.
“I reckon you’ll find out soon enough,” Smart Cookie said with an enigmatic smile.
“Very well then.” Loquacious took a small sip from his mug, but grimaced almost immediately and set it to the side. “Bitter seeds that reap barren fruit – that seems pretty clear. The bitter cold would kill off agriculture.”
Smart Cookie nodded. “That’d fit with the next one, ‘color fades to frozen white.’ That’d be true enough if you were talking about the snow piling up.”
Puddinghead giggled. “Ahh, but it also said that ‘three become one.’ Do you know what happens if you combine the three main colors?”
Loquacious and Smart Cookie both looked over at Puddinghead in surprise, and Loquacious shook his head.
Puddinghead beamed. “They become white!”
Smart Cookie scratched her head. “I thought you were saying that colors came in a line when you split them up in a prism?”
“That’s the best part!” Puddinghead rubbed her hooves together. “There’s one color that’s not on the line. Pink! Well, magenta. But close enough.”
Now it was Loquacious turn for head scratching. “Wait, so you're saying that the future is pink?”
Puddinghead chuckled. “Cute. I like the way you think. But no. Painting everything pink probably isn’t going to scare off the storm.”
Loquacious sighed in relief. “Perhaps that part is talking about the three tribes, then,” he ventured. “You might be supposed to help each other, and work to stop the storm together.”
Smart Cookie brightened up. “Heck yeah, that’d fit right in.” Her face turned thoughtful. “If we can just figure out a way to get them to help.”
“Hmm.” Puddinghead’s eyes reminded Loquacious of Shines Upon Us for a few moments before the mare blinked and shook her head. “Just because we work with our hooves doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with our heads. Falling Apple was an earth pony, after all.”
“Falling Apple? Is the solution mathematic?” Loquacious cocked his head.
“You’re right about the tribes.” Puddinghead said, glancing over at Loquacious as her curls drooped like candles on a stove. “But Smart Cookie was right, too. The others are already taking more than we can afford to give them. They don’t want to work with us. So how does three become one? You don’t have to be Falling Apple to figure that one out.” Her hoof came down on the table hard enough to rattle the cups. “Subtract two.”
Smart Cookie’s ears were flat against her head, but Puddinghead ignored her as she levered herself up from the table.
“We grow the food, and we’ll show them what bitter seeds sow. Some reap more than others, you know. We’re in a time of cold equations, and it’s my job to make sure we’re the remainder.”
Her lips curled into what could have been a grin. “We can even still paint things pink afterwards! Come on Cookie, let’s go.”
The day was young, but the shadows pooled dark and deep beneath the leaden sky. Outside, the wind had died to a low murmur, as if content with the snow it had piled high and thick.
Their stockpile of donations had dwindled alarmingly, but even though Smart Cookie’s pack was still half-full, the pantry was barer than ever. Loquacious finished wrapping up a stale loaf of bread and carried it to where the pack that still sat near the entryway. There was still some firewood left as well, plus the kettle, but they wouldn’t be practical to take.
Loquacious sighed. They might as well enjoy the veneer of civilization for one last night. He had just started back towards the living area when a loud banging sounded at the doors behind him.
He turned and undid the latch, letting two figures stumble into the warmth. The caked snow and heavy wrappings made it impossible to tell anything about their callers, but Loquacious had little question about who it was that had just arrived.
The glow that enveloped the two and lifted their winter garb away then banished any last shadow of doubt. Two unicorn mares stood revealed, one a shining white with a rich purple mane and regal bearing, the other lavender with a streaked indigo mane and lively eyes. Their clean coats and neat manes made him acutely aware of his own matted condition.
“Princess Platinum and Clover the Clever of the unicorn court,” the lavender unicorn said, unnecessarily. “We are here for your council.”
“I’ve been expecting you,” he replied, nodding to Clover.
“Oh? Have the others been here already?”
He looked away. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
Princess Platinum snorted. “As if that matters now, with what they’ve done.” She turned, giving him an arch look as she nodded at the packs by the door. “Keeper Way, were you going somewhere?”
Loquacious shuffled his hooves. “... Perhaps. But not just yet. I imagine you are here about the blizzard?”
The princess narrowed her eyes, but nodded. “In part.”
“Then of course, we can make time for you. This way please.”
“Keepers of the heavens,” Shines Upon Us intoned, “time grows short. Power ensnares the unwary. The clinging shadows are an echo. Without is as within. Follow your hearts. The three must become one. Only then will the tempest still.”
The ivory doe closed her mouth and swayed slightly. The attendants long gone, Loquacious rushed to her side, but he could do little more than help her down from the dias and give her an apologetic look before he had to hurry away after the two unicorns.
He finally caught up with them in the antechamber. He took a deep breath, but the words tasted like ashes in his mouth before he even spoke them. “Look, I can help explain. I’m afraid we have no more tea, but perhaps we could discuss her words in front of a warm fire?”
Princess Platinum sniffed as a small purse levitated towards him and dropped to the floor between his hooves. “No need.”
Loquacious’ jaw dropped, and he felt a shiver go down his spine. “Really?”
Her muzzle curled into a little smirk. “It said quite clearly that the others are unprepared for our might. And our plan for bringing the three together is already well underway.”
“The three tribes?”
At her nod, Loquacious broke into a wide smile.
“I knew you could be a diplomat like your father! How did you convince the other two tribes to combine their powers so you could all stop the storm?”
“Oh, that’s rich,” she tittered. “Working with that dirty rabble, or those barbarian fliers. No, Clover is already helping Star Swirl with some research that is approaching the matter of combining powers in a way that is much more, shall we say, literal.”
Clover nodded, her eyes shining even as her ears drooped.
Loquacious felt as if he’d just run full tilt into a castle wall. “That’s how you understood it? You’re certain?”
“Oh, quite so. Clover had a few questions, else we wouldn’t have made the treck in such dreadful weather, but you covered our little research project without us even asking about it! I’d say we’ve settled those qualms quite thoroughly, haven’t we?”
Clover nodded once more.
“Very well then,” Loquacious said, his voice brittle. “You have your prophecy. I wish you good luck on your journey.”
“To you as well,” she said, her eyes straying to their packs once more before she gathered herself up sharply. “Come now Clover, let’s not tarry.”
She lit her horn and Clover followed suit. In moments the two unicorns were bundled up once more. Clover gave one last look back as the door closed behind them.
A hush descended over the hall, and Loquacious slumped, looking decades older as Shines Upon Us ghosted up beside him. He looked over with tired eyes. “I am sorry. I failed”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. You did what you could.” Her slight warmth came to rest against his side. “Come, there are still paths for us to walk.”
“May we follow it true.”
A rattle broke the quiet, light metal plates shifting as a pair of armored pegasus fidgeted a few lengths away. One mare was a brilliant sky blue with a rainbow mane and the grey-plumed helm of a centurion, while the other was butter yellow with a pale pink mane that fell in gentle curls and a look of deep concern etched into her face.
Both were wound taut, and looked ready to leap into action, but a third figure held up a hoof and shook his head. This one was an imposing buffalo bull, a little portly under his tan coat, though he was impeccably groomed. The sky blue pegasus settled back, the tension in the chamber easing fractionally, though she coughed as a wisp of the acrid air tickled her throat.
One of the doe’s ears twitched at the sound, but she gave no other sign of acknowledging the onlookers. From beneath the dias vapors swirled forth, rising about the doe to embrace her like a lover. She took a deep breath and then another before she stilled.
A brittle quiet settled over the chamber. The doe’s head swiveled towards the group, parting the vapors like a snake through grass until her half-lidded gaze settled on the sky-blue pony in the lead.
“Speak.”
The pegasus stiffened, her wings half-unfurled. Danger she understood, but this ivory waif of a doe sent shivers down her back in ways that charging dragons never had.
No trace of tension was reflected in her voice. “Seer Shines Upon Us, I am Commander Hurricane of the pegasus. Private Pansy and I have come from Thunderhead for your guidance. A vast, unnatural blizzard has engulfed our territories and proved almost immune to pegasus magic – our efforts only make it grow stronger. Scores of our strongest warriors have already fallen in the struggle. You are said to possess knowledge beyond the limits of mortal equines. Tell me what the secret is to defeating this storm.”
Shines Upon Us said nothing, only nodding in response before her eyes shifted, gazing outward as if the chamber and its inhabitants had turned to wind and glass. Her head craned about the room, darting in fast but precise motions until she locked onto some point in the ceiling that looked the same as any other.
After several seconds, the doe shifted her gaze back to Hurricane and her voice came, now low and hollow, as if it was a far off echo.
“Dwellers of the high reaches, beware. Take care where you cast your shadows. The bitter cold is an echo. Without is as within. Follow your hearts. The three must become one. Only then will the tempest still.”
The young doe trembled like a leaf and blinked, her eyes coming back into focus.
The ponies shuffled their hooves as the room seemed to loose some of its otherwordly air. Commander Hurricane cocked her head as a robed attendant hurried in from a side room and helped the ivory doe to her shaking hooves.
“Is that it?” Hurricane said, her eyes narrowing as she watched the seer being escorted from the chamber.
The bull cleared his throat, puffing up his chest. “Yes, that is the wisdom of the great beyond.”
Commander Hurricane turned away from the dias, her brow already furrowing. “That’s gibberish. The question was about storm wrangling, and I get a few seconds of nonsense in reply. Since when does cold have anything to do with echoes? I need flight vectors, formations, or maybe some magic doodad we could get, not some vague mysticism.” Her tail lashed as she looked over at Pansy. “I applaud your initiative, Private, but it looks like your idea didn’t pan out.”
Pansy ducked her head under Hurricane’s gaze. “I don’t know. I’ve never experienced anything quite like that. I’m sure she was trying her best.”
Hurricane crouched, spreading her wings. “Maybe. But I didn’t fly all this way to get a load of yellow sleet. Loquacious Wit here is just lucky I haven’t demanded our money back. Come on, Pansy. Let’s get airborne.”
“Wait, wait!” The bull cried, losing some of his composure. “Look, I can explain.” Shine Upon Us always speaks truth, but the meaning of her words is not always clear. Fortunately, I have a great deal of experience in interpreting her messages. Stay a little longer, and I could help you to find the answer.”
Commander Hurricane huffed. “Why can’t she explain it herself?”
The bull shook his head. “The experience is overwhelming. Seers seldom even remember what they said afterwards. Come. Perhaps if we discuss it for a little while, the meaning will become clear.”
Hurricane snorted. “And let me guess. You’d want another donation for your additional services.”
Loquacious spoke slowly, choosing his words with the care of one walking on eggshells. “That would be… appreciated. But we would not insist.”
Pansy looked hopefully at Hurricane. “Well, we are already here.”
Hurricane sighed, but lowered her wings and wordlessly gestured ahead.
“I didn’t come here for tea.”
Commander Hurricane stared at the empty cup like it was mud. She pointedly looked away, her eyes roving around the small, wood-paneled kitchen. It didn’t have any of the ornate furnishings of the divination chamber, rather they sat at a rough wooden table with a simple sink to one side and the kettle was perched atop a small iron stove at the end of the room.
If her reaction bothered Loquacious Wit, he didn't show it. The bull moved with a care that belied his size as he removed the kettle from the stove and settled it in the center of the table. Ignoring Hurricane’s rolled eyes, he filled all three cups and took a moment to savor the wafting steam before he finally spoke.
“The tea is for a calm mind. I know it is not much, but we are a small sanctuary. Still, we do what we can to honor our guests, and see that your return is untroubled.”
Hurricane crossed her hooves. “You’d better, for the how much we donated to get that prophecy. We’re not exactly rolling in treasure, you know.”
“In fact, I do not know, but in any case, it is not my aim to take advantage of you.”
Hurricane waved her hooves. “Fine, fine. So let's get with the interpreting already.”
Loquacious closed his eyes and cleared his throat. “Dwellers of the high reaches, beware. Take care where you cast your shadows. The bitter cold is an echo. Without is as within. Follow your hearts. The three must become one. Only then will the tempest still.”
“Doesn’t make any more sense the second time.”
Loquacious took a sip of his tea. “It may seem so at first, but if one looks at the parts, it may become clearer. Bitter cold. Without as within. Perhaps the storm is a reflection of your own selves?”
“Are you saying we’re cold?” The blue pegasus snorted. “I’ll have you know that the temperature barely affects us pegasi. The problem isn’t the cold, it’s the wind shear, and the way it disrupts our strongholds.”
“Um,” Private Pansy spoke up in a quiet voice. “She also spoke about following our hearts. Maybe it wasn’t a physical cold?”
Hurricane looked thoughtful. “Hmm. Not enough passion? None of the pegasi we sent off were cowards, but it’s true that cloud-wrangling doesn’t really get the blood up. Not the same way as a good scrap does, at least.”
Loquacious’ ears had drooped at Hurricane’s last statement, and he quickly spoke up, “What of this blizzard? Perhaps I might be able to offer better advice on it if I understood the situation more clearly.”
“Well, the North wind carried it in a few weeks ago and disrupted a wing that was up foraging in the mountains. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse by the day. We can send some troops and corral it for a while, but it keeps roaring back. We haven’t had any luck foraging in weeks.”
“Hmm. You say the North wind?” Loquacious’ brows drew together. “Could that relate to ‘three become one?’ Perhaps if you could combine the West, South and East winds, that might prove the solution.”
Hurricane’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “It’s kind of obvious that you’re not a pegasus. That’s not how it works.”
Private Pansy set her cup down carefully. “It could be talking about the three tribes,” she said.
A smile blossomed on Loquacious’ muzzle. “Yes! Maybe you're supposed to come together and help each other stop the storm.”
Hurricane frowned. “No, that makes even less sense. Earth ponies can't do anything to fight a storm. But it could be the unicorns.” Her eyes widened. “They might even be causing it! We know unicorn magic can influence the weather, and they’ve been a twist in our quills for ages. We’ve just got to get serious about it, and then as soon as we take over, no more storm.”
Pansy’s ears drooped, and the cup shook in her grip. “That’s not what I was trying to…” her voice trailed off, before she took a deep breath and tried again. “I’m not sure if that reading fits. It says we should take more care in what we do.”
“Of course, it does.” Hurricane chuckled. “It fits the description perfectly! It doesn’t say for us to stop casting our shadows, but that we should use them more effectively. Three become one, and battle lust is the hottest emotion there is.” She turned to Loquacious and slapped a small purse down on the table. “Credit where it’s due. I guess your little discussion did help after all.”
Her muzzle curled into a feral grin.
“Come on, Pansy. We have work to do.”
The wind howled outside, but not loudly enough to drown out the rapping at the door. Loquacious opened it for just a moment, but that moment was enough for a lick of snow to swirl into the entry hall alongside the two earth ponies.
Both had travel worn cloaks plastered to their bodies which Loquacious took without comment, revealing a pair of very different mares. One was blindingly pink-on-pink and exuded energy, while the second had a pale orange coat, blonde mane, and mantle of the long put-upon.
“Be welcome, travelers. I am Loquacious Wit, keeper of the house of Vision.“
The pink one grinned. “I’m Chancellor Puddinghead and this is Smart Cookie of the earth ponies. We’ve come to find out about this blizzard, and how to stop it.” Her face curled into a pout. “The pegasi aren’t helping at all.”
Loquacious nodded. “Do you have a contribution?”
“Yep, here you go,” said Smart Cookie, gesturing to a heavily-laden bag. “One bushel of grade-A earth pony vittles. Sorry it ain’t no fancy gems or nothing, but it’s what we’ve got.”
The smile on Loquacious’ face was the most genuine he’d had in weeks. “That won’t be a problem at all. Come, and I will take you to seer Shines Upon Us.”
“Children of the soil, time passes. Bitter seeds reap barren fruit. Color fades to frozen white. Without is as within. Follow your hearts. The three must become one. Only then will the tempest still.”
Loquacious suppressed a sigh. Even the benefits of repetition didn’t make things much easier. It was a tossup as to which was worse, watching Shines Upon Us on the dias, or dealing with the dissatisfied questioners afterwards. There was a reason so many of his predecessors had fled to the monasteries.
Chancellor Puddinghead was already getting an odd look in her eye, and once more he quickened his steps.
“Look, I can explain,” he said, catching up. “Perhaps we can discuss the meaning over some tea?”
The Chancellor spun around on a hoof to look at him, her head cocked at an angle that made his neck hurt just to look at. “Hmm. I’m more of a coffee gal, but if you’ve got hot water, we can get you fixed right up. Lead the way!”
Three cups of coffee gave the kitchen a deceptively cheerful air, as Loquacious settled himself at the table once more. His brow was furrowed as he sniffed at his cup, but as the smell registered his eyes widened and his muzzle curled into an uncertain smile.
Smart Cookie blew on her cup with an air of contentment, though her eyes were drawn. “This doggone blizzard is making it almost impossible to grow anything. The only good thing that’s come of it is keeping the others from stealing our food quite so much, but now they’re starting to get hungry, too. I’d heard that this might be the place to give us a lead on what to do, but I can’t say that that prophecy of hers is doing very much of that.”
Loquacious shrugged. “Well, that may not be at first, but I’ve interpreted more than a few. Generally I’ve found it best to take the pieces apart, examine what different meanings they might have, and then reassemble the fragments to see which hold together.”
“Like a puzzle,” the Chancellor said, with a gleam in her eye.
“Exactly.”
Smart Cookie chuckled, “Makes sense to me, but of course you’ve never seen Puddinghead solve a puzzle before.”
Loquacious raised an eyebrow as Puddinghead’s grin grew even bigger.
“I reckon you’ll find out soon enough,” Smart Cookie said with an enigmatic smile.
“Very well then.” Loquacious took a small sip from his mug, but grimaced almost immediately and set it to the side. “Bitter seeds that reap barren fruit – that seems pretty clear. The bitter cold would kill off agriculture.”
Smart Cookie nodded. “That’d fit with the next one, ‘color fades to frozen white.’ That’d be true enough if you were talking about the snow piling up.”
Puddinghead giggled. “Ahh, but it also said that ‘three become one.’ Do you know what happens if you combine the three main colors?”
Loquacious and Smart Cookie both looked over at Puddinghead in surprise, and Loquacious shook his head.
Puddinghead beamed. “They become white!”
Smart Cookie scratched her head. “I thought you were saying that colors came in a line when you split them up in a prism?”
“That’s the best part!” Puddinghead rubbed her hooves together. “There’s one color that’s not on the line. Pink! Well, magenta. But close enough.”
Now it was Loquacious turn for head scratching. “Wait, so you're saying that the future is pink?”
Puddinghead chuckled. “Cute. I like the way you think. But no. Painting everything pink probably isn’t going to scare off the storm.”
Loquacious sighed in relief. “Perhaps that part is talking about the three tribes, then,” he ventured. “You might be supposed to help each other, and work to stop the storm together.”
Smart Cookie brightened up. “Heck yeah, that’d fit right in.” Her face turned thoughtful. “If we can just figure out a way to get them to help.”
“Hmm.” Puddinghead’s eyes reminded Loquacious of Shines Upon Us for a few moments before the mare blinked and shook her head. “Just because we work with our hooves doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with our heads. Falling Apple was an earth pony, after all.”
“Falling Apple? Is the solution mathematic?” Loquacious cocked his head.
“You’re right about the tribes.” Puddinghead said, glancing over at Loquacious as her curls drooped like candles on a stove. “But Smart Cookie was right, too. The others are already taking more than we can afford to give them. They don’t want to work with us. So how does three become one? You don’t have to be Falling Apple to figure that one out.” Her hoof came down on the table hard enough to rattle the cups. “Subtract two.”
Smart Cookie’s ears were flat against her head, but Puddinghead ignored her as she levered herself up from the table.
“We grow the food, and we’ll show them what bitter seeds sow. Some reap more than others, you know. We’re in a time of cold equations, and it’s my job to make sure we’re the remainder.”
Her lips curled into what could have been a grin. “We can even still paint things pink afterwards! Come on Cookie, let’s go.”
The day was young, but the shadows pooled dark and deep beneath the leaden sky. Outside, the wind had died to a low murmur, as if content with the snow it had piled high and thick.
Their stockpile of donations had dwindled alarmingly, but even though Smart Cookie’s pack was still half-full, the pantry was barer than ever. Loquacious finished wrapping up a stale loaf of bread and carried it to where the pack that still sat near the entryway. There was still some firewood left as well, plus the kettle, but they wouldn’t be practical to take.
Loquacious sighed. They might as well enjoy the veneer of civilization for one last night. He had just started back towards the living area when a loud banging sounded at the doors behind him.
He turned and undid the latch, letting two figures stumble into the warmth. The caked snow and heavy wrappings made it impossible to tell anything about their callers, but Loquacious had little question about who it was that had just arrived.
The glow that enveloped the two and lifted their winter garb away then banished any last shadow of doubt. Two unicorn mares stood revealed, one a shining white with a rich purple mane and regal bearing, the other lavender with a streaked indigo mane and lively eyes. Their clean coats and neat manes made him acutely aware of his own matted condition.
“Princess Platinum and Clover the Clever of the unicorn court,” the lavender unicorn said, unnecessarily. “We are here for your council.”
“I’ve been expecting you,” he replied, nodding to Clover.
“Oh? Have the others been here already?”
He looked away. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
Princess Platinum snorted. “As if that matters now, with what they’ve done.” She turned, giving him an arch look as she nodded at the packs by the door. “Keeper Way, were you going somewhere?”
Loquacious shuffled his hooves. “... Perhaps. But not just yet. I imagine you are here about the blizzard?”
The princess narrowed her eyes, but nodded. “In part.”
“Then of course, we can make time for you. This way please.”
“Keepers of the heavens,” Shines Upon Us intoned, “time grows short. Power ensnares the unwary. The clinging shadows are an echo. Without is as within. Follow your hearts. The three must become one. Only then will the tempest still.”
The ivory doe closed her mouth and swayed slightly. The attendants long gone, Loquacious rushed to her side, but he could do little more than help her down from the dias and give her an apologetic look before he had to hurry away after the two unicorns.
He finally caught up with them in the antechamber. He took a deep breath, but the words tasted like ashes in his mouth before he even spoke them. “Look, I can help explain. I’m afraid we have no more tea, but perhaps we could discuss her words in front of a warm fire?”
Princess Platinum sniffed as a small purse levitated towards him and dropped to the floor between his hooves. “No need.”
Loquacious’ jaw dropped, and he felt a shiver go down his spine. “Really?”
Her muzzle curled into a little smirk. “It said quite clearly that the others are unprepared for our might. And our plan for bringing the three together is already well underway.”
“The three tribes?”
At her nod, Loquacious broke into a wide smile.
“I knew you could be a diplomat like your father! How did you convince the other two tribes to combine their powers so you could all stop the storm?”
“Oh, that’s rich,” she tittered. “Working with that dirty rabble, or those barbarian fliers. No, Clover is already helping Star Swirl with some research that is approaching the matter of combining powers in a way that is much more, shall we say, literal.”
Clover nodded, her eyes shining even as her ears drooped.
Loquacious felt as if he’d just run full tilt into a castle wall. “That’s how you understood it? You’re certain?”
“Oh, quite so. Clover had a few questions, else we wouldn’t have made the treck in such dreadful weather, but you covered our little research project without us even asking about it! I’d say we’ve settled those qualms quite thoroughly, haven’t we?”
Clover nodded once more.
“Very well then,” Loquacious said, his voice brittle. “You have your prophecy. I wish you good luck on your journey.”
“To you as well,” she said, her eyes straying to their packs once more before she gathered herself up sharply. “Come now Clover, let’s not tarry.”
She lit her horn and Clover followed suit. In moments the two unicorns were bundled up once more. Clover gave one last look back as the door closed behind them.
A hush descended over the hall, and Loquacious slumped, looking decades older as Shines Upon Us ghosted up beside him. He looked over with tired eyes. “I am sorry. I failed”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. You did what you could.” Her slight warmth came to rest against his side. “Come, there are still paths for us to walk.”
“May we follow it true.”