Hero Complex — Noun

A mental state in which a pony develops an inflated sense of adoration towards an individual or group of individuals that elevates them above their station and/or reasonable, realistic expectations.

That was me, alright. It almost sounds childish, reading it right out of a dictionary. I knew I might never see him again, but I literally dreamed of getting that chance. There was nothing I wouldn’t have done, no act I wouldn’t have committed. My every action was dictated by the feverish need to exceed his expectations, to draw his attention and pull him to me from the shadows. I just knew that he was watching me, waiting for the right moment. Sometimes I spoke to him at night, wishing that he would someday speak back from the darkness. It was all so juvenile.

But then, I was a child.

—Fleur de Lis, Book of Shadows XLVIII,

June 10, 1007

Crack

The teenage griffon let out a wail as he jerked his fist back from the solid beam he’d just punched. He sat and clutched the broken appendage, tears streaming down his beak. The other cubs and foals backed away from him, jaws hanging loose and eyes wide.

Fleur watched the scene with cold indifference, the glow of her horn fading. Redirecting the cub’s punch had been a simple thing, once she applied the magic in the right way. The fact that she hadn’t been able to do it a dozen times in a row stung worse than the blows she’d received, but that was okay; she had figured it out. She rubbed the blood from her jaw and flicked it away, barely acknowledging how the splatter fell upon the cub’s bewildered earth pony goon.

The other children were muttering to one another, casting fearful looks her way. She liked how they looked at her. It was far better than the leers and taunts they’d thrown her way for the past few months. She met their eyes with a placid expression, daring them with her eyes. The pitiful squawking of the cub on the floor proved more than enough to prevent any of them from taking her up on it.

“What is going on here?”

Foals and cubs made room for Headmaster Kluv, who stared down at the weeping mess on the floor. His beak opened and closed a few times, eyes shifting between Fleur and the cub. His frown was less upset and more confused. “Fleur, did you do this?”

She eyed the blubbering creature. “He did it to himself.”

The cub at last found a use for his vocal cords other than pointless screeching. He pointed his good claw at her and cried, “Nuh-uh! You used magic! You made me!”

Fleur cocked her head and rubbed a little more blood from her muzzle, more to point it out to the headmaster than for any discomfort. “I thought you might like hitting something harder than my face.”

Headmaster Kluv’s eyes widened just a touch, but that was as much surprise as he’d offer her. He turned to two of the older children, both griffons. “Plato, Syeryebro, take Toopoy to the doctor.”

The two did as they were told, having to practically drag the howling griffon away by his shoulders. Toopoy screeched as they rounded a corner, “You wait, bonehead! As soon as my claw is better, I’ll put you in your place! I’ll break your horn off, do you hear me?!”

The headmaster ignored the shrieks as he turned to Fleur. He pointed down the hall, his features expressionless.

A tightness came over Fleur’s chest. She wanted to snap at him, but she didn’t dare. Yet even as she turned away, she understood that she’d done something amazing; for the first time in her life, she’d defended herself. It felt good, and not just because she knew she had it in her now. The tension fled as a smile spread across her bruised face, and she all but pranced for the headmaster’s office.

Would Fine Crime find out about this? Would he be proud? She felt like dancing – another new concept.

The door closed, and she realized she was already in the office. Her happiness fell away in the face of reality, her ears folding back and her shoulders slumping. Slowly, she turned to watch as Headmaster Kluv sat behind his desk. He wrapped his talons around one another and studied her.

Fleur had learned a lot since Fine had left her here, but she had yet to really understand things in the orphanage. In a way, she was still struggling with exactly what qualified as ‘wrong’ here. The headmaster always seemed forgiving, but she’d never seen that unreadable expression on him before. Had she crossed a line?

“Explain.” The word came out crisp and firm.

Fleur obeyed eagerly. “He was hurting me. I made him stop.”

“I gathered.” Headmaster Kluv waved the back of a talon at her. “How did you make him stop?”

“I learned magic.” At his raised eyebrow, Fleur struggled to find a way to explain. “I’ve been studying the book. I learned a spell. Tele… Telke…”

He click his beak. “Telekinesis.”

“Yes, that.” She rubbed her hooves together, then rubbed the last of the drying blood from her muzzle. “I always knew how to do it, but now I know how it works. I pushed Toopoy’s hoof. It took me a few tries.” Maybe mentioning how difficult it was would remind him that she’d been attacked first. She hadn’t really attacked Toopoy. Had she?

Headmaster Kluv sat back, his eyebrows narrowing. “You mean you knocked his punch aside so that he’d hit the column behind you?”

At his incredulous tone, she sat up straight and glared. “He was hurting me! I’m tired of being hurt. Why should I let him hurt me?”

With something resembling a derisive sniff, the headmaster waved a dismissive claw. “You’re not in here because of that.”

Fleur blinked, the haze of anger clearing just a little. “But aren’t you mad at me?”

“Hardly.” He leaned over the desk to study her. “Toopoy has had this coming for a long time. I brought you in here for two reasons. First, to know how you did it. Second, to teach you about consequences.”

She glanced at the door, uncertainty welling within her. “Toopoy wants to break my horn?”

He nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Before, Toopoy was a bully. Now he might be something worse, and you’ve made yourself a target.”

“But I was only defending myself!” She whirled to face him. “Can’t you stop him? I don’t want to lose my horn!”

He slapped the desk, the reverberating crack making her jump. She shrank away from his piercing gaze.

“You acted without thinking, Fleur. Yes, I can stop Toopoy, and I will, but I won’t be able to protect you all the time. The stallion who brought you here gave some very strict instructions, and I intend to carry them out, but once you’re out of my claws?”

He sat back once more, heaving a long sigh. Fleur stared at her hooves, too afraid to do anything else. Why was he upset? Fine had told her to stand up for herself. His way was right, she was sure of it.

“Fleur.”

Eye contact.

She met his gaze, and her frustration faded as she recognized the concern in his eyes.

“Don’t antagonize others directly. You are small, and not very strong. I understand that you want to retaliate, but if you must do it, then be smart about it.”

She thought about his words, head tilting to one side, then another. “I don’t get it.”

“You’re a bright filly,” he said. “You taught yourself to read in just a couple months. You’ve started learning magic all on your own. Use those brains Celestia gifted you with to protect yourself.”

Fleur shook her head. “But I don’t know how.”

He stared down at her, expression stern. “I’ll help you, starting with Toopoy.”

Fleur shared a room with two younger cubs, a boy named Granat and a girl named Venogradnek. Today they watched from their bed with wide eyes as six young unicorns focused on iron weights. Some of the foals barely managed to get their weights off the ground. Others were able to pull it off, but their targets wobbled dangerously in the cramped space. Only Fleur’s weight floated high and steady.

Fleur smiled to a red filly about her age. “You’re doing well, Toosklt, but you don’t need to focus so hard. Relax.”

The filly grimaced, but after a few seconds her shoulders lost their tension. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she saw that her weight had stabilized. Relief washed over her features.

Fleur nodded. “Very good!”

“It’s not so great,” grumbled a grey, teenage colt, the oldest pony in the group. He looked about the same age as Fine Crime had been, although that was where the similarities ended. His weight floated so low that its wobbling made it bang the floorboards.

Fleur stepped over to him, her own weight perfectly still, and set a hoof to his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Oryol. You’ll get it.”

He glared at the weight as if it were the cause of his inability. “It weighs too much.”

“Don’t think about how much it weighs,” she instructed. She reared up, leaned against him and set her chin on his shoulder, so as to see what he saw.

He shifted from hoof to hoof and seemed to focus even more fiercely on his weight. “You said the weight is important.”

“Yes, you can’t lift something too heavy, but to lift it, you have to forget that it’s heavy.” She leaned forward a little, and her pink aura enveloped the bottom of the weight. “Can you feel what I’m doing?”

She heard him swallow. “Y-yeah.”

An older filly in the corner giggled. Fleur wondered what the joke was. Casting the thought aside, she raised the weight just a little. “Feel my magic with yours. It moves in a certain way, right?”

His silver aura shifted, initially to match hers. As soon as the two were synchronized, however, the rest of his aura appeared to ‘snap’ into position. Fleur stepped back at his gasp, and soon the weight was rising to be level with his head. It wasn’t stable, but it was floating.

“I did it.” He gawked at the weight, then threw his head back to laugh. “I actually did it!”

The other foals were cheering, the two cubs on the bed clapping excitedly as Oryol bounced in place. He turned to her, tears welling in his eyes. “Thank you, Fleur. I thought my horn was broken or something, but this… thank you!”

“Oh, isn’t this cute?”

A sick sensation came over Fleur at the sound of that voice. Here it was, the moment she’d been dreading for a whole week. Was she ready? Had the headmaster given her enough time?

She forced her expression to be as neutral as possible before turning to the door. Toopoy stood there, settled back in a relaxed pose as he took in all the unicorns – and two cubs. He wasn’t alone, being flanked by another teenage griffon who was slightly smaller than him, but had the muscles to make up for it. Tochnost, he was called. Another bully. His added presence sent a worrying chill down her back. She hoped her face remained neutral.

“Welcome back,” Fleur said, just managing to keep the shake from her voice. “I expected you in from the hospital days ago. How’s the claw?”

Toopoy grinned and raised the mentioned appendage, flexing his talons demonstrably. “Ready for a test run.” He took a step inside; all the ponies stepped back. Fleur cursed herself for having done the same.

“Magic lessons?” Toopoy chortled as his new ally stepped up behind him. His eyes landed on Fleur’s book, which was sitting on the edge of the bed. “As if you could teach anypony anything. What good is magic?”

One of the younger foals tried to speak up, but closed her mouth and looked away swiftly when both Toopoy and Tochnost’s eyes darted to her.

“Your little club is disbanded,” Tochnost growled. He stepped aside and gestured at the open door. “Everyone out. We’re gonna have a few words with miss priss.”

To Fleur’s surprise, not a pony moved. She looked around to find all of them glaring at the two griffons. Why weren’t they leaving?

“What in Tartarus?” Toopoy ruffled his wings and puffed out his chest dramatically. “Didn’t you hear him? Get out!”

Oryol took a step forward and scuffed the floor, his eyes narrow. “You want to talk to Fleur, you talk to all of us.”

The way the two teenage griffons’ beaks dropped matched the fall of Fleur’s jaw perfectly. She cast another look around and saw that the others were demonstrating similar resolve, each of them braced for a fight. Even the two cubs on the bed were up on all fours, tiny wings spread and feathers puffed out. She turned her attention back to Oryol, who shot her a look of firm assurance before refocusing on the two bullies.

In that moment, Fleur understood. Her dread was shoved aside by a veritable river of glee, and she couldn’t resist throwing a grin at Toopoy. “We’re not afraid of you.”

Toopoy and Tochnost shared wide-eyed looks for several seconds.

Their stupification didn’t last: Toopoy whipped his head around to snarl at her. “You think this changes anything? You’re just a bunch of unicorns. Not even that, unicorn foals. We can take you.”

Fleur hesitated, but Oryol spoke up. “And how are you gonna explain that to Headmaster Kluv? You can get away with hurting one of us, sure, but let’s see you explain five of us… if you really can take us.”

Tochnost popped his knuckles before lowering himself to an attack stance. Fleur tensed, prepared for what may well be the fight of her life. It struck her as so unfair; she’d finally escaped that miserable little house and her father, and she might just be about to die!

Yet the fight didn’t come. After examining the situation for several seconds, Toopoy at last stepped back. He set a talon on Tochnost’s shoulder, startling him. “What can I say? The colt’s right.”

Tochnost’s face twisted in a combination of surprise and anger. He jerked back from Toopoy’s touch as he growled, “You’re backing down? I thought you were ready to teach these ponies a lesson.”

“One death is a crime,” Toopoy replied, his manner oddly calm. “Five could get us sent to the mines.”

That sobered Tochnost up quickly. Though it appeared to require a lot of strain, he managed to pull himself out of his aggressive stance. Yet there was no disguising the disgust on his face, and shoved his way past Toopoy as he left.

Toopoy looked at the ponies gathered before him with derision, then pointed a talon at Fleur. “Don’t think you’ve won, bonehead. Your friends won’t be around you forever. That moment when you’re alone is the moment I’ll break that horn from your worthless skull.” With one last glare at the others, he turned and strutted off, soon disappearing down the hall.

Fleur stared at the door, not sure she could believe her eyes. They were—

“They’re gone.”

She turned to the filly who’d spoken, a tall green one with a light red mane, and discovered that the others appeared as shocked as she felt. The filly’s wide-eyed gaze fell on Fleur. “They went away. And nopony got hurt. It… It worked.”

Oryol shook his head forcefully, as if to clear it. “Yeah. Yeah! They left us alone!”

Sighs of relief were soon followed by chuckles, and then laughter. Fleur watched them all in silence, still unable to process just what had happened. She turned to Oryol. “You… You all helped me. Why did you do that?”

The stallion offered a lopsided grin. “Why? Because we’re friends, that’s why.”

“Friends?” She rolled the word around on her tongue, getting a feel for it. It had to be one of the most unfamiliar words in her vocabulary.

“Of course we’re friends,” the younger colt – was his name Kryevyetke? That sounded right – ignited his horn, releasing a small spark. “You’ve been tutoring us!”

Oryol nodded eagerly. “I learned more from you than I ever have at that stupid school.”

Noting Fleur’s vacant expression, the elder filly set a hoof to Fleur’s shoulder. “Have you never had friends before?”

No. No she hadn’t. She fell heavily to her haunches. “I… Only one pony ever… I mean…”

“You helped us out,” Oryol said. “It’s only right that we return the favor. If we stick together, we’ll never have to worry about jerks like Toopoy and Tochnost again.”

They were all smiling at her. They were all supporting her. Headmaster Kluv had been right, but mixed in with her relief was a new and growing terror. Fleur had never had friends before. Now that she did…

What was she supposed to do?

Kryevyetke cocked his head, concern filling his features. “Fleur? Are you okay?”

She pressed a hoof to her hammering heart even as her eyes darted from one pony to the next. “I don’t know. I mean… We’re friends? I don’t know how to be a friend. Is there something… Something I’m supposed to do now?”

Oryol raised an eyebrow before looking to the elder filly. “She’s kidding, right? I mean, she is kidding right now. Right?”

The filly stepped closer to Fleur and smiled. “This isn’t a trial, Fleur. You don’t have to do anything different. Whatever you don’t know, we’ll teach you. Okay?”

Tapping the tips of her forehooves together, Fleur stared at the floor. Her cheeks burned as she whispered, “I don’t even remember your name.”

The filly blinked, her face abruptly blank as she took this in. Fleur cringed, waiting for the unpleasant result.

Instead, she heard laughter. The filly grinned, shook her head and patted Fleur on the cheek. “It’s Nyektar.”

“I’m sorry! There are so many creatures at the orphanage and in the city and I… I don’t know how to—”

Another playful laugh. Nyektar pressed a hoof to Fleur’s lips. “It’s okay, Fleur. We’ll help you with that, too.”

Fleur’s eyes crossed as she tried to examine the hoof on her muzzle. She looked to Nyektar, then to the others. They were all smiling.

Smiles. They made her want to smile, too.

So she did.

Fleur had been dreaming about Fine. She did that often, and the dreams were always strange. Sometimes they were scary, but not always. This one had been especially odd, for she’d been in the boat with him, and they’d both been scared. She remembered Fine could be scared when it came to water, but that didn’t make seeing him in such a state any more appealing. So she’d gone to him, and curled up at his side. There they’d remained, drifting on an endless river, taking comfort in one another’s presence.

It had been wonderful.

Waking from the dream so suddenly left her stunned and confused, her gaze set upon the wall as she struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. By the time she realized that something had jostled her awake, the weight was already on her chest. She turned her head in a daze to find something bulky and feathered grinning at her. A second later, her extra pillow pressed against her face.

Fleur had no idea what was happening, but two things registered quickly: first, that Toopoy was the one sitting on her, and second, that she couldn’t breathe. Both of these facts were mysterious to her, as if her groggy brain had trouble connecting them to a conclusion.

Then comprehension kicked in, and she squirmed. Even her ears barely took in her shouts, and the sideways position she’d been trapped in made her hooves all but useless. She kicked and screamed and shook, heart hammering as her lungs fought for air. Where were the cubs, Granat and Venogradnek? They should be calling for help. Did they even know she was in trouble?

Her lungs started to ache. She needed air!

Questions swam through her growing panic. Regrets battered against her skull. She’d not even had a chance to look for Fine. He was watching, wasn’t he? He would protect her, surely. Any second now, he’d appear behind Toopoy and stab that knife into the brute’s neck. Yes… Yes! Fine would save her!

The aching grew into a burn. Her chest heaved with the need for oxygen.

Fine would come. She closed her eyes and prayed. He would come. He hadn’t left her here to die. He hadn’t!

Her eyes stung with tears that couldn’t make it past the pillow, it was pressed so tightly to her. She slowed her struggles, realizing the need to conserve her energy. Fine would be given all the time she could offer. He had to do this right.

Right?

Though she couldn’t move, her head was swimming. A painful throbbing began in her forehead. Her body trembled as it fought for air that wouldn’t come. Slowly, through the pain and the dizziness, Fleur began to recognize the horrible truth.

No help was coming.

…

Or was it? For the first time since waking up, Fleur remembered something so fundamental that neglecting it felt insultingly stupid: she had a horn. Though concentration eluded her, she worked frantically to build up some magic. She wouldn’t need much, right? She had no answer. Conscious thought barely functioned in her oxygen deprived brain. Magic. That was all she knew.

She needed magic.

No, she needed Fine Crime.

Magic. Fine.

Focus!

Her lungs begged for air. Her heartbeat slowed. Her throat constricted on itself in a desperate bid to force oxygen down from something, anything it could. Jackhammers pounded her skull from the outside, cotton stuffed it from within. Her eyes were on fire, her horn grew hot.

Magic.

Fine.

Pain.

Dying.

Focus.

Fine.

Focus.

Fine.

Dying.

In the recesses of her fading consciousness, Fleur felt something ‘shift’ at the base of her horn. Within nothing left to go on, she used it as a sign and released. No conscious spell, no intended direction; she just let the magic go.

Pink blinded her. It erupted in all directions, making her horn feel like a torch. The pillow didn’t pull away so much as it disappeared, and if not for the desperate, innate need to breathe Fleur would have shrieked at the pain. For an instant or an eternity, all she knew was pink, pain and the wonderful, incredible delight of air.

Then the color faded, bringing to her a world of black. She could hear nothing for the ringing in her ears, couldn’t move for the pain of her first breaths. Slowly, the fire of her horn faded, and in the darkness she could make out its brilliant glow. In time, even that dimmed to darkness.

At last, the ringing stopped. Replacing it was a pathetic, howling whine. Or was it crying? Whatever it was, it sounded… wrong. Garbled. Mutated.

Her strength finally coming back, Fleur forced herself up on wobbling legs. She stared uncomprehendingly at the hole in the ceiling, not sure what it meant. Paying it little mind, she parked her ears to follow the ugly sounds. It came from the floor… at the foot of her bed. Slowly, she crept forward. Her eyes barely registered the shape of a griffon in the doorway.

Her chest constricted at the sight of the creature on the floor. It took her a while to realize that the mess of black and smoke was none other than Toopoy. His right foreleg was missing entirely, his chest a mess of charred tissue. His remaining, shaking talon hovered just before his face, as if he wanted to touch it but couldn’t bring himself to do so. There was no question as to why; almost half of it had been seared off, leaving a gaping, concave mess of cauterized flesh.

Fleur stepped back, breath coming in gasps. She looked at the hole in the ceiling, then at the speechless, wide-eyed Tochnost in the doorway. An errant spark crackled from the tip of her smoking horn. The pieces came together.

It’s over, Fleur. They will never touch you again.

They would never touch her again.

She didn’t realize she wore a manic grin. The euphoria was too great.

Be strong for me, alright?

She was strong. She’d not understood that before. Her father and brothers kept it hidden from her, but she was strong.

You need to make the decisions.

She hopped off the bed, landing on all fours with a dull thunk. She leaned over the howling, trembling creature on the floor, dropping down until her muzzle was just beside the unburned side of his head.

“Nopony will ever hurt me again.”

Toopoy shrieked and dragged himself away with his good claw, leaving a trail of ash and blood behind. Fleur watched his blind retreat without pity or remorse. Fine had told her that he wouldn’t be here. She should have remembered that. She would have to protect herself from now on. And that started with…

When her eyes met Tochnost, he fell backwards and pressed against the wall of the hallway. Fleur approached him at a trot, her eyes hard. The griffon, a full twice her size, quaked at her approach.

She paused before him, her hard gaze holding him in place. In her peripheral vision were the other orphans, watching the scene in quiet awe. She ignored them as she spoke.

“I won’t let anypony, anygriffon, anything hurt me again. Never. Ever. Never!”

She reared back, her horn flashing in the darkness. She didn’t know what she was doing, and she didn’t care. Tochnost had helped, he had acted as the sentry, and he would pay.

The griffon screamed and raised his claws, perhaps in an attempt to grab her before she could act. It did him no good; a sparkling beam of pink energy rose from her horn like a sword, and when she swung her head it cut through flesh and bone like butter.

Tochnost’s scream began a piercing shriek as his two talons fell to the floor, his arms now ending in red stumps of blood and heat. He fell against the wall, cradling his arms against his chest and sobbing. The pathetic sounds did nothing to ease Fleur’s rage as she swung her horn a second time, the short blade of energy slicing into the wall. Tochnost dove to the floor just in time to avoid decapitation.

A voice in the back of her head demanded she stop, but it was drowned out by a boiling fury Fleur had never known she could possess. She snarled as she leapt after the fleeing griffin, and with another swing of the head took a chunk off of his hind leg. Tochnost babbled incoherently as he crawled away, and she liked the sound.

Her father turned to her, raising his forelegs over his face as he stared with eyes blinded by horror. He begged for mercy. Mercy. Him, begging her! Her body shook with her fury. An anger born from every blow, every insult and every lie that had been fed into her young, susceptible brain. A good filly, that’s what he’d insisted she be, even as he beat her to within an inch of her life.

She was strong.

She could be independent.

And she would never be hurt again.

Her mouth opened in a roar. She reared back, taking in her father’s fear, relishing it. He would feel it, all the pain he’d put her through, all the hate and the despair and the nights of being cold and miserable and not understanding why she could never be good. She brought her horn down, eyes locked with his, grinning as she heard him scream—

The world blurred as something smashed into her, and the beam of energy fizzled out. Fleur landed on her stomach with enough force to knock the air from her lungs, and something pinned her jaw to the floor. Her brother, it had to be her brother! If she could just tilt her head at the right angle and start the beam again…

A voice screamed in her ear. “Fleur! It’s okay, Fleur, it’s okay! You can stop now.”

She blinked; that wasn’t her brother’s voice. Who… Who was it?

Sobs reached her ears again. Though she couldn’t move her head, she still managed to see the shape of Tochnost on the floor nearby. He was a bloody, burnt wreck.

And he was still alive.

The anger stirred her back into the struggle. “Let me go! He deserves it! They tried to kill me!”

“Fleur, please, stop! They can’t hurt you anymore!” Now she recognized him. Headmaster Kluv.

Her response came as a piercing shriek. “Nopony will ever hurt me again!”

“Fleur!”

A new voice. She looked up as best she could. There stood Nyektar. At her side was Oryol. She had no idea which had called out to her, but their shocked, frightened expressions slammed into her heart like a runaway carriage.

The energy and anger collapsed, to be replaced by tears. Fleur buried her face beneath her hooves and wept. “I don’t want to hurt anymore. Please, make the hurting stop. M-make it stop, please.”

Gradually, the weight pinning her down lifted. Someone was rubbing her back… petting her. The headmaster’s voice was in her ear. “It’s okay, Fleur. It’s over. You’re okay.”

A moment later, Oryol and Nyektar were lying on either side of her, nuzzling her and pressing in close.

Nyektar whispered soothing sounds in her ears as Oryol spoke. “We’re here, Fleur. Nopony’s going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

She tried to take comfort in their words. Safe. She was safe.

She didn’t feel safe.

Headmaster Kluv’s office.

Again.

At least Fleur wasn’t alone, what with Nyektar and Oryol insisting to be at her side. She was more grateful for their presence than she thought she’d be, especially when she woke up with nightmares again and again. Her head still throbbed at the base of her horn, but by now it was only a minor nuisance.

Headmaster Kluv had one talon pressed to his forehead as he slumped over his desk. He didn’t look at Fleur, instead staring at the sheet of paper between his elbows. She didn’t dare speak to him. After all the trouble she caused, not to mention the hole in the roof, she knew that some kind of punishment was due.

Would he hurt her?

She shivered and shrank in on herself.

At last, the headmaster spoke. “I’m not going to lie: we’re in trouble.”

Fleur’s voice sounded frail even to her. “I’m sorry.”

Oryol raised his head high. “She had every right to defend herself.”

“Of course she did,” Headmaster Kluv growled. The sound made Fleur wince. “Toopoy and Tochnost had reputations. Not a soul will blame her for fighting back.”

Nyektar tilted her head to one side. “So… is it because of the roof?”

“It’s not the roof, either, although that is a pain in the feather.” The headmaster kneaded the desk, his claws making faint scratches in the wood. His eyes were still set on that piece of paper. “The problem is, we can’t keep this a secret. Word’s going to get out that we’ve got a gifted filly in our midst. It’s only a matter of time before someone comes looking for her.”

Fleur lost her timid pose and stared at him with wide eyes. A spark of hope ignited within her. “You mean… Fine?”

At last, he looked at her. Her hope dwindled at his lack of a smile. “No, Fleur. Fine isn’t going to be coming.”

She wilted once more as Nyektar asked, “Then who?”

More kneading. The headmaster looked at the three of them, then looked to the closed door. His expression was hard, but his eyes thoughtful. He sighed and sat back. “I’m going to tell you three something, and you have to promise to keep your mouths shut. You tell anybody I said it, and I’ll deny it and throw you all under the carriage. Got it?”

Fleur pushed away from him with whimper. “You’d throw me under a carriage?”

“No, no, no!” Nyektar bend down quick to nuzzle Fleur in the small of her back. “It’s a figure of speech. He won’t really throw you under a carriage.”

Headmaster Kluv’s face twisted in alarm and guilt. “Sorry, I’m sorry. No, Fleur, it just means that… That you can’t tell anyone about what I’m going to say, alright?”

She took a moment to let her pulse drop below the speed of a hummingbird’s wings before giving a shaky nod. “Y-yeah, okay. I promise.”

The headmaster visibly relaxed, though the guilt remained on his face. “Okay. Good. Sorry.” He coughed before resuming is solid manner once more. “Now, I have a friend from back when I worked in the mines, and—”

Oryol’s body seemed to jerk in place. “You were in the mines? But I thought nopony could survive that!”

Headmaster Kluv growled. “Where do you think the limp comes from, kid? Yes, I was in the mines, and I survived. Made friends with one of the guards there. He’s a lot higher in rank now, and we keep in touch. That’s why I know what I’m about to tell you: war is coming.”

A heavy silence permeated the air. Fleur could only be confused; she’d heard of war, but didn’t really understand it.

Oryol and Nyektar, on the other hoof, were stuck in a wide-eyed stupor.

“War?” Nyektar asked, as if the very word left a bad taste in her mouth. “With who? Why?”

Rubbing a talon over his forehead and staring once more at the paper on the desk, he replied, “With Equestria.”

“But that’s suicide,” Oryol snapped. “Grypha couldn’t possibly win a war against Equestria! Princess Celestia could crush them by herself.”

Headmaster Kluv shook his head. “From what I hear, the governess of the Crystal Empire is planning rebellion. She’s sent her husband here to negotiate an alliance, and my friend says there are a lot of Lords buying into the argument. Not enough to get a mandate of war passed, but the possibility is strong.”

Nyektar’s face had a hint of green in it. Oryol swayed from side to side, expression slack. Fleur looked to each of them, then to the grim face of Headmaster Kluv. “I don’t understand.”

“Are you sure, Headmaster?” Nyektar asked.

“Nobody’s sure,” he replied. “But I know a lot of griffons are gearing up for it. They’re going to be looking for every edge they can get against Equestria, just in case the fighting really does come. And we’ve got a young and surprisingly powerful unicorn in our orphanage.”

The way they all stared at Fleur made her shrink back a little. Why did her stomach feel all twisty? “What does that mean? What’s going to happen to me?”

The headmaster’s expression was as solid as rock. “What it means is that the Grypha government may try to take you away. They’ll want to use you, Fleur, as a weapon. A weapon against your own kind.”

She thought on this, trying to apply it to herself in some fashion. The concept eluded her. “I don’t understand. How could I be a weapon?”

The headmaster, Oryol and Nyektar exchanged uncertain looks. It was Oryol who attempted an answer. “Well… You know what you did to Toopoy and Tochnost? Did you enjoy that?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but hesitated. In her mind’s eye, she saw Oryol crawling away from her, his body burnt and black. And Tochnost, weeping on the floor with nothing but stumps on the ends of his arms. Chaos assaulted her brain as she tried to gather her feelings around what she had done.

“I… I don’t…” She lowered her chin to the floor. “It felt good and bad at the same time. I want to be a good pony for Mommy, but I want to be strong for Fine too. If I’m strong, they can’t hurt me. I don’t want to be hurt… but I don’t want to hurt others, either. I…”

She pressed her fetlocks over her eyes and moaned. “I don’t know what I want.”

Oryol and Nyektar pressed a little closer to her. Nyektar said, “Imagine that someone forced you to hurt others, Fleur. Again and again, without stopping. That’s what it means to be a weapon.”

“B-but I don’t want to have to hurt others,” she whispered. “I just wanted the pain to stop!”

Nyektar shuddered, then turned to the headmaster. “We can’t let them have her. She’s just a foal! Isn’t there something we can do?”

Headmaster Kluv heaved another of his long, weary sighs. He leaned over the table once more, examining the paper before him. “I’ve got this incident report. I’m bound by law to file it. I have to recommend something, something that can give the big feathers pause.”

Oryol leaned forward, his voice hopeful.“But you’ve got an idea, right? You must have something.”

“Oh, I’ve got something, alright.” The headmaster pressed his palms to his cheeks, his scowl appearing more like a defeated frown as a result. “But if I do it, I’m breaking the rules. That damn Archon gave me just two responsibilities: keep Fleur safe, and keep her out of Equestria. I’m stuck in a position where I can’t possibly do both.”

Everything stopped. The fear, the confusion, the anger and the worry and the doubt, it all vacated Fleur’s mind at the sound of one word: Equestria. Fine was from Equestria. He’d left her to go back to Equestria.

Fine Crime was in Equestria.

“What are you suggesting?” Nyektar asked.

Headmaster Kluv noted Fleur’s wide-eyed gaze. He examined her with a solemn, but curious, expression. “There’s a school. It’s in Equestria’s capital. It’s for gifted unicorns… like Fleur. The application process is supposed to be brutal, and we’d have to help her catch up in her education, but if she can get in?” His lips twitched, a failed attempt at a smile. “Celestia won’t send a filly to war. With any luck, Fleur can avoid the fighting entirely, and get a top-of-the-line education while she’s at it.”

The grin came to Fleur’s face involuntarily. “You mean I can go to Equestria?” She could already see Fine meeting her at the docks, smiling and congratulating her for her hard work. She could have her savior back! Fine Crime, who gave her everything. To see him again, to be by his side…

Nyektar’s words drew her back to reality. “That’s a great idea! What safer place is there than right under Princess Celestia’s castle?”

Oryol nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. “Won’t Grypha try to keep her from leaving? I mean, they’d be sacrificing a pretty powerful tool otherwise.”

Headmaster Kluv shook his head. “That school was founded by Celestia herself. Keeping a pony from it is like snubbing the Sun itself, and Grypha can’t afford to be under suspicion. They wouldn’t dare get in the way of Fleur’s admission.”

“In that case—”

Fleur jumped to her hooves. “I want to go!”

All eyes turned to her, but she didn’t shrink back this time. She grinned at the headmaster. “Fine is there. I want to go. I’ll go to the school.”

Headmaster Kluv hesitated. “Fleur, I really doubt you’ll ever see that archon again.”

“I will!” She stomped, lifted her head high. “Fine Crime is in Equestria. He saved me. I need to see him again. I want to be with Fine.”

Oryol set a hoof to her shoulder. “But Fleur—”

“I don’t care!” She pushed his hoof away and reared back, slamming her hooves on the headmaster’s desk and giving him her most firm glare. “I want to go! Fine will be there, and he’ll take care of me. I won’t hurt anymore, because he’ll be with me. I can be strong for him! I want to go to the school.”

The headmaster met her gaze, his own slowly growing solemn. He glanced at the ponies behind her, but she only stared more intently. Finally, he spoke.

“Fleur, I need you to understand. You’re a strong unicorn, but it takes more than strong magic to get into Celestia’s school. You’re eleven years old, and you missed out on five years of education. You are going to have to work very hard to catch up and be good enough for the school.”

“I can do it,” she insisted with as much confidence as she could squeeze out. “I have to! I’ll learn everything I have to. No, more than everything! I’ll show Fine how strong and smart I can be, and then he’ll have to see me.”

He merely stared at her, frowning and thinking. Fleur didn’t budge, even as her hind legs started to ache from her awkward stance. Eye contact. Confidence. Decisions. She had to be her own mare now, and this would be her first real choice. She would go to Equestria, no matter what. If the headmaster didn’t help, she’d find another way.

Fine would welcome her. She knew he would.

Headmaster Kluv closed his eyes, breaking the hold they’d had on one another. Fleur felt a small weight lift from her mind, but didn’t bother to ponder it; she just kept staring.

When his eyes opened, they were set upon the ponies behind her. “Nyektar, I want you to go to the Stalliongrad State Library and collect as many texts as you can regarding unicorn magic. Basics first, we want to do this right. Oryol, gather a few strong friends and start emptying the store room on the second floor. Fleur’s going to need space to practice.”

The two ponies barked their confirmations and left in a hurry. The headmaster noted Fleur’s continued gaze and smirked. “You can stop, now.”

“Oh, r-right.” She dropped back to the floor and sat, happy to rest her sore hind legs. “So I’m going to school?”

He reached for a nearby quill, one claw smoothing the paper on his desk. “Yes, Fleur, you’re going to school.”

Nine grueling months of study.

Thirty-nine weeks of practicing with Oryol.

Two-hundred-seventy days of quizzes and recitation and tests given by Nyektar.

Countless late nights in candlelight studying theories and dreaming of Fine Crime’s proud face.

And now, three weeks of waiting for a letter that she thought would never come. Fleur was exhausted physically and mentally, having refused to take a single day off throughout the entire ordeal. Even now, she had a book on the bed beside her as she took diligent notes on a scroll that hovered in her pink aura. The act of studying had become so natural that even now, when she had no need and everyone told her to relax, she found herself still going at it. It wasn’t that she wanted to so much as she’d forgotten how to do anything else.

But reading wasn’t the only thing happening in her bedroom, the same bedroom she’d lived and studied and practiced in ever since her decision to go to Equestria. In the center of the room, five large rocks were moving in a winding, circular pattern around one another, an endless cycle of motion perpetuated by her horn. Near the corner of the room was a large stand covered in gems that one of her friends had gathered, linked to one another via an intricate system of ley lines that were themselves little more than gems crushed into powder. The gems glowed as they built energy, growing stronger with every tick of the clock on the wall. And despite these things, Fleur’s mind still wasn’t fully occupied.

So she thought. She thought about the friends who had helped her get this far. She thought about how Headmaster Kluv’s physical exercises, designed to teach her self discipline. She thought about Oryol and Nyektar, who had both worked hard to keep her going and always gave her the support she needed, even when she didn’t realize she’d needed it. She thought about how far she’d come in such a short time, and the way the foals and cubs at the orphanage had come to respect her. Sometimes she thought of Toopoy and Tochnost, wondering what had become of them after they’d been carried away on gurneys. She thought about her new cutie mark which, curiously, didn’t have anything to do with magic and everything to do with charm. That led her mind to the four months of etiquette classes she’d squeezed in to prepare for a life in Canterlot. She thought on the test she’d taken over a week ago, the one administered by the only appropriately licensed mage in Grypha.

But mostly? She thought of Fine Crime. She’d long come to acknowledge that he probably wouldn’t be waiting for her when she arrived. The intense training she’d undergone had also taught her logic, and logic told her that finding her beloved savior would take a lot more than this. Regardless, her determination to see him again never wavered. He consumed her thoughts, drove her passion and guided her devotion.

She was strong, and getting stronger by the day. He would see her, and he would weep in pride for what she achieved.

A knock on the door brought her smoothly out of her thoughts. “Come in.”

It was Nyektar. The pony stepped inside, only to pause as she took in everything that was happening at once. “Fleur, you’re supposed to be relaxing.”

With a sigh, Fleur finished her sentence and let the scroll and quill drop to the bed. “I know, but I couldn’t. I’m so tired of waiting, I had to do something.”

Her friend eyed the floating rocks before raising an eyebrow. “And your solution was to do everything at once?”

Without so much as a glance at them, Fleur ceased the motions of the rocks and settled them in a neat pile in the corner. Nyektar cocked her head before pointing at the still-glowing gemstones.

Fleur smiled and hopped off the bed, approaching the table. “They’re on automatic.”

Nyektar stepped up beside her, a smile of her own forming. “You mean you finally figured it out?”

“Last night, actually.” Fleur examined her work with no small measure of pride. She could see what others couldn’t: the magical patterns running along all the gems like so many tiny, spiderwebbing cracks. Where they had once been dormant, now they sparked and flowed and pulsed like blood vessels filled with colorful electricity. “Gem batteries, Nyektar. I know how to make gem batteries.”

“I’m glad you could figure it out,” Nyektar replied with exasperation. “Those stupid equations confused the hay out of me. I get a headache just thinking about them.” She set a hoof to Fleur’s shoulder. “This is going to impress a lot of ponies in Canterlot, Fleur. It’s such a rare specialty, and you’ve figured it out at the age of twelve.”

Fleur’s shoulders slumped. “If I even get to go. Why is it taking so long to get that letter?”

A giggle met her ears, which slowly built into full blown laughter. Before Fleur could react, Nyektar caught her up in a hug. “The letter, Fleur! It’s here!”

Her eyes widened in comprehension even as her hooves seemed to slide out from under her. “W-w-what? It’s here?”

“Yes!” Nyektar pulled her to her hooves and dragged her to the door. “Come on, everyone’s out in the lobby waiting for the news! The headmaster’s going to read it. Come on!”

It had arrived. At last, after all the waiting, all the hard work, Fleur’s fate was about to be decided. Excitement and horror raced through her mind in equal measure, neck and neck for the finish line that was her visible expression. Her legs wobbled, her heart began to pound, her voice cracked. All she managed to get out was a quiet, “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…”

“Don’t worry, it’s in the bag.” Nyektar practically dragged her through the orphanage and down the stairs.

Oryol met them at the bottom, grinning from ear to ear. “You ready, Fleur?”

“No.”

He chuckled and helped Nyektar push her forward, which was needed now that Fleur’s legs had locked. “Come on, you’re a magical genius! There’s no way they won’t accept you.”

“B-but what if they don’t?” Fleur shook her head wildly as they approached the front lobby. Already she could see the excited faces of all her friends. They were smiling at her, acting as if everything was going to go well. They did little to comfort her. “What if I bucked up the test? What if I forgot something critical, like… Like… I don’t know, something!”

Before she could think to brace against the doorframe, she was thrust into the crowd. Foals and cubs alike cheered her arrival, and all she could think of was how much she wanted to hide under the floorboards. Why hadn’t she taken the time to learn that invisibility spell? Or teleportation, she could have learned a teleportation spell. But no, she’d chosen to specialize in gemcraft, which seemed so preposterously useless right now!

“Alright, everybody, calm down.” Headmaster Kluv appeared at her side. Her eyes immediately fell upon the letter in his claw. Such a small thing, to hold her entire life in the balance. It might as well have been a ticking bomb in her mind. Her ears folded back as she stared at the thing, half wishing someone would steal it and rip it to shreds. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…”

He set a palm to her shoulder and offered what was possibly the warmest smile she’d ever seen on his chiseled face. “It’s okay to be nervous. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

She nodded numbly, eyes still set upon the letter.

He gave her one last examination before turning to the cubs and foals gathered before them. “Who wants me to read the letter, eh?” He grinned at the cheers and promptly ripped the envelope open. Ice covered Fleur’s heart as she saw the words, the neat Equestrian script… and was that the emblem of the sun? Oh, sweet merciful Goddess, did Celestia write her rejection letter personally?

Doom weighed upon Fleur. She wobbled in place, but somehow managed to keep her hooves. It would mock her, wouldn’t it? Celestia was laughing at Fleur’s feeble attempts to get into her school. Her life was over before it even started! She’d be stuck in Grypha, a worthless orphan, a laughing stock, no, less, gutter trash!

Or maybe the truth was even worse. Maybe the goons of the Grypha government would steal her away, beat and break her and turn her into a weapon. She’d be forced to murder ponies in some hopeless war she didn’t want anything to do with, all because Celestia wouldn’t have her!

Fleur closed her eyes tight as Headmaster Kluv cleared his throat and began to read.

“Fleur Purpurnyj,

I extend the warmest of the Sun’s greetings to you, my little pony. I must admit, when I heard that one so young old and with no formal education intended to attend my school in Canterlot, I had my doubts. Yet I have always believed that anypony may achieve great things with the correct application of hope, dedication and willpower.

These things you have shown in abundance. I have personally reviewed your test results and discussed the matter with the school council. Professor High Feather spoke to me directly regarding your oral and practical exams. Knowing that you have advanced so far, learning and comprehending things that most ponies require years to grasp, has left us all astounded. You are truly an inspiration, Miss Purpurnyj, and a shining beacon of what one can accomplish in spite of their humble origins.

The school’s course is clear. It is my great pleasure and honor to approve your application to the Royal Academy of Gifted Unicorns in Canterlot. Congratulations!

Being aware of your geographic and financial situation, I have prompted the school to grant you a full scholarship, and I intend to personally fund your journey to Equestria. You will find enclosed with this letter a ticket to travel via airship to Las Pegasus, from which you will be escorted to Canterlot proper. As you will be arriving early January, I would recommend beginning your formal education with the summer courses in June.

In the meantime, be prepared to live the life of Canterlot! All your needs will be met. A chance to rest and relax before going back to the grindstone. You have more than earned it.

I look forward to watching your progress, Miss Purpurnyj, and to meeting you in pony. Welcome to the Royal Academy for Gifted Unicorns!

Her Imperial Majesty,

Princess Celestia of Equestria”

The lobby was silent, all eyes set on Fleur as she gazed upon the letter. The words repeated in her head, again and again and again. Her legs shook, and there was a strange sensation in her chest she didn’t recognize. It was as if she were being filled up by some invisible pump, soon to explode.

The headmaster, shock filling his features, reached into the envelope and pulled out a golden ticket. He flipped it over once, twice, a third time. “All expenses paid,” he whispered in quiet awe. “All expenses paid. Holy pinions of Celestia…”

A pain in her chest was all it took to remind Fleur to breathe. The instant she did, tears erupted from her eyes. She all but flew into Headmaster Kluv, forelegs wrapping about his waist as she sobbed and grinned and laughed in a chaotic unleashing of energy. The entire orphanage erupted in applause, eagle cries and hoof stomps. Ponies and griffons jostled for position, eager to offer their congratulations and well wishes.

In her mind’s eye, Fleur could see Fine Crime grinning.

Above them was the airship. It loomed as a giant of wood, metal and hydrogen, bobbing lightly in the soft wind. Snow formed a thin blanket on its great airbag, which only served to emphasize its mountainous appearance. Griffons and ponies were running all over the place, performing whatever myriad duties were required to get the vessel ready for launch.

Fleur noticed none of it. She faced Oryol, Nyektar and Headmaster Kluv with her head bowed.

“I’m sorry.”

They exchanged dumbfounded looks. “Sorry for what?” Oryol asked.

She fiddled with the small binder in her hooves, in which was hidden the golden ticket. “I wouldn’t have made it this far if not for you. All of you, and everyone at the orphanage. I can’t repay you for it. I… I wish I could bring you with me.”

They responded with quiet laughter, and Nyektar wrapped her in a warm hug. “The best gift you could have given us was the chance to watch you grow. We’re so proud of you, Fleur.”

Oryol stepped in to nuzzle her. “Yeah, we don’t need anything. But if it makes you feel any better, we’re all a lot better at magic thanks to you.”

Headmaster Kluv knelt down so he was at Fleur’s height. He had that warm expression again. She really liked when he had that expression. “It was a pleasure, Fleur. If you want to pay me back, then there’s only one thing I want.”

Fleur leaned closer, despite Nyektar still holding her tightly.

He rested his palm on her head and ruffled her mane. “Lead a good, happy, safe life. Use those amazing talents of yours and be a success. I’ll sleep better at night knowing that you’re happy and healthy wherever you go. Can you do that for me, kid?”

With a fragile smile, she nodded. “I will. I promise. To all of you. I’ll be strong, and smart, and happy.”

“That’s all we need.” The headmaster stepped back. Oryol and Nyektar did the same. All three beamed at her.

“Well,” Nyektar whispered, tears threatening to escape her eyes, “you’d better go. The ship won’t wait forever.”

Fleur stepped back, her own eyes burning, but happiness swelling within her. She gave them one last “Thank you” before turning and cantering through the boarding platform. She wanted to look back so badly, but she resisted the urge. She had to look forward, forward to a new future. Forward to a new life. Forward to Fine Crime.

The platform ended at a small door, next to which stood two mares and a stallion in attendant uniforms. The mares were checking tickets, and the sight made her smile drop. She fiddled with her binder once more, worries cascading through her mind. What if it was all some cruel joke? What if the ticket was fake? She hurried to whip the binder open and was relieved to find that the ticket was still within.

It was her turn. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she presented the binder to the pegasus mare, who smiled sweetly before taking the ticket out and examining it closely. Fleur barely avoiding bursting into tears when the mare’s eyes went wide. It was a fake! She was going to be thrown off, and then she’d never get to go to Equestria, and then—

A hoof touched her shoulder; she jumped high and yelped. She turned to find herself facing the pegasus stallion, who grinned at her with all the same warmth and friendliness as the mare had a moment ago. Fleur blinked at his colors: a light grey coat and a neon pink mane. It was a hideous combination, and that was being generous.

“You are Miss Fleur Purpurnyj, yes?” the stallion asked in Equestrian. She managed to understand him, but only barely. She abruptly wished she’d devoted more study time to the language. She gave a small nod, heart hammering in her chest as she anticipated the cruel blow to her hopes and dreams.

His smile only grew warmer, if such were possible. “My name is Hoofknife, and it’s my job to make your journey to Equestria as comfortable and fun as possible. Celestia wants only the best for a guest such as you.”

Her fears petered out at his words, her eyes growing wide as saucers. “Y-you mean, it’s real? I’m going?”

Hoofknife laughed and ushered her through the door.

“Oh, it’s real, alright. Come on, child.

“It’s time you started a new life.”