"Moonbeam will be able to protect us better than Evergold could," Sunshine patiently explained again, grabbing a mouthful of grass as she strode through the morning mists. Moonbeam said they were going to keep moving, so they moved.
"But . . . but . . ."
"Baby Nightglow, if a pack of raals attacked, would you rather be with an earthling or a unicorn?" his mother asked with a sigh.
The baby frowned. "Well . . . a unicorn. 'Cause they have magic."
"Right," the adult Nightglow agreed as if something had been settled.
"But why did Evergold have to leave?" the foal whined again.
Sunshine gave an exasperated sigh. "A herd can't have two leaders, Baby Nightglow."
"But--"
"And if Evergold had stayed, some ponies would listen to her as leader and some would listen to Moonbeam."
He scuffed his hoof. "I know, but--"
"And that is just the way things are," Sunshine finished firmly.
Baby Nightglow's ears flattened in frustration, and misery. "But Evergold was my friend!" he said at last, another tear trailing down his cheek.
"She was my friend too . . . but keeping the herd safe is the most important thing. We have to think of what's best for all of us, not just one pony," replied Sunshine gently. "When you're older you'll understand."
Far ahead, Moonbeam called for scouts and Sunshine spread her yellow wings, riding the wind. As she flew to the front of the herd, Baby Nightglow threw a heavy glance after her, then sadly continued following.
Farther behind him, Shadow walked with steady calm, but his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the baby pony. "That foal is going to be trouble," he muttered.
"Raals," Tempest growled one evening, savagely tearing up a mouthful of grass. "I can't see them and I can't smell them, but . . ." He shook his head and restlessly took to the air again. The others exchanged uneasy glances and drew closer together.
Baby Nightglow huddled between his mother and father that night, staring wide-eyed into the night long after his parents slept. At last his eyes closed, surrendering to exhaustion . . .
He stood in the clearing, alone. The darkness pressed at him from all sides, and he trembled. Behind him, a single twig cracked, and he froze. Turning his head a twitch at a time, he saw the raal out of the corner of his eye. The light patterned "eyespots" sworled on its fur gave the illusion that it was scanning the trees, but where eyes should have been the creature's face was simply smoothly concave. The ebony claws tipping its lithe forearms and powerful hind legs dully reflected the moonlight. The long, sleek head slowly turned towards him, huge ears twitching, and in a flash of panic Baby Nightglow remembered that they had they could see without seeing, like the bats which swooped blindly to catch the panicked night moths. And even as he stood paralyzed, the monster leaned towards him with a terrible focus, baring its teeth in an ivory grin. Gathering itself up, it leapt towards him with gleaming claws outstretched--
Baby Nightglow sat up with a gasp. His parents still slept, occassionally twitching a hoof. On the right, Sunshine shifted in her sleep and extended her wing over Baby Nightglow a little more while her mate snored gently from the left. The baby pony stared around in confusion for a second before lying down between them once more, still trembling a little. "Only a dream," he whispered to himself. "Only a--"
Behind him, a twig cracked.
Bolting forward in fright, Baby Nightglow felt claws swishing through his tail. Cries of alarm and fright rose behind him, but he concentrated on getting airborne, pumping his tiny wings frantically. Rising on a sudden gust, Baby Nightglow turned.
The adult Nightglow swooped over the raal, ignoring the gash on his shoulder as he tried to distract it. The creature was calmly ducking away from Nightglow's blows, and every step brought it closer to Sunshine.
"Mama! Up here!" Baby Nightglow called frantically, flapping closer. He gasped as he circled around; Sunshine's right wing drooped at an unnatural angle, the delicate tendons torn and dripping crimson. My fault . . . she had her wing over me. "Mama! Run!" he sobbed. But Sunshine stood, screaming a wordless, defiant cry, and reared. The raal gathered its great muscles--
And like a spear of darkness, a black unicorn leapt in front of the mare. Shadow tossed his black mane and a bolt of darkness swept the raal from its feet. With a hiss of surprise, it righted itself--only to find two more unicorns leaping into the fray. Hundreds of tiny lights swirled from Glimmer's horn, lighting up night, and Moonbeam sent flash after flash of silvery moonlight after the creature as it howled in protest.
The earthlings gathered protectively around Sunshine, though Azure looked as though she might jump into the fight at any moment. Tempest and Thistledown joined Nightglow in harassing the raal from the air. Try as he might, Baby Nightglow could not spot Baby Featherfall. As he anxiously scanned the sky and ground for her, the unicorns concentrated their attack, fighting as one. The raal screamed in pain, writhing as bolt after bolt of magical energy singed its fur. Moonbeam reared, pawing the air, and brought a sharp-edged hoof down with all her might.
A sickening crunch; then silence.
Nightglow flew down and nuzzled his mate as she vainly tried to fold back her injured wing and the other pegasi gathered anxiously around her. Moonbeam knelt and wiped her hoof on the grass. Baby Nightglow landed, staring around with wide eyes. The tall grass rustled beside him and Baby Featherfall cautiously lifted her head.
"What were you doing down there?" Baby Nightglow asked.
"That's what baby ponies are supposed to do when raals are around. That's what my--my daddy taught me." She lowered her head and Baby Nightglow suddenly remembered the grown-ups saying something about raals killing the last stallion in Moonbeam's herd.
Grown-ups. Mama. The colt moved slowly towards the knot of ponies surrounding Sunshine. If she hadn't had her wing over me . . . and Daddy's hurt too. He weaved through a forest of legs, pushing between the adults. "Mama?" His voice wavered. "Are you okay?"
She looked around. "I'm just fine, sweetie." Baby Nightglow looked uncertainly at her limp, torn wing. "Don't you worry about a thing," she repeated, nuzzling him.
"You'll be fine . . . just fine." Her mate stomped a hoof anxiously. "The unicorns--they'll help. You'll be fine. Just fine."
"Don't forget that I'm not the only one who needs help," Sunshine said sweetly, glancing pointedly at the blood drying on Nightglow's purple shoulder.
"Huh? Oh . . . it's only a scratch, my dear." He managed a smile.
Glimmer pushed between Droplet and Azure. "I have some small skill at healing," she said softly, looking from Nightglow to Sunshine.
"Some small skill?" Tempest said sharply. "How small are we talking?"
Glimmer blinked. "I will do all I can. Hopefully it will be enough."
"Enough to fix her wing?" the silver pegasus demanded.
Glimmer stared at the injury, looking uncomfortable. "I . . . I will do all I can," she repeated.
"Let her be, Tempest," Shadow frowned. "She said she will do what she can. By the Rainbow, you can hardly expect more!"
"I am simply trying to get some straight answers," Tempest retorted. "Well, I'm going to patrol. That raal may not have been part of a pack, but he may have had a mate." He spread his wings and flew off.
Glimmer glanced from Nightglow to Sunshine. "Can you make it to the river? I think it would help . . . my magic works best when I'm by water."
"And alone," murmured Droplet.
"I'm fine," Nightglow announced.
"It's my wing that's hurt, not my legs," Sunshine said agreeably.
Glimmer nodded and headed towards the stream, followed by the two pegasi. Despite his claim, Nightglow was limping. Baby Nightglow quietly trailed along behind them.
"First let's wash off the wounds," Glimmer suggested. The stallion nodded, cautiously wading into the cold water. Sunshine likewise stepped into the water, leaning to the right to wet down her wing.
Glimmer circled around the pair as they sat on the grass, waiting for their fur to dry. "I'll start with your leg," she said to Nightglow at last.
"But Sunshine--"
"Her wing won't get any worse, and I think your leg is more vunerable to infection," Glimmer explained. She lowered her head and concentrated; as a faint glow surrounded her horn, the skin around the gash extended, knitting together.
Nightglow flexed his leg and reared a little. "Not even a scar," he said in an awed voice.
"Now for your wing . . . " Glimmer nervously regarded the tangle of feathers and splintered bones. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and her horn began to glow once more. Her frown of concentration deepened as the bones slowly grew together and new feathers blossomed. The other three ponies froze stockstill, afraid that their slightest movement would disturb the unicorn's work. The most delicate tendons, the flight muscles, began to repair themselves, slowly, slowly . . . but then . . .
The light flared around Glimmer's head, a wash of pure magical energy; it sizzled without heat around the yellow wing, then died as suddenly as it had began. Glimmer blinked, dazed, then stared at Sunshine's wing. Completely, perfectly healed, not a hint of blood or bruise anywhere . . . but at the wrong angle.
Sunshine tried to fold it back and failed. She tried to flap it and it only jerked in pathetic half motions.
Glimmer seemed to crumple. "I'm sorry . . . I'm so, so sorry," she cried. "If only I had held on for a few seconds more!"
Nightglow nuzzled his mate, stunned. "Can't you . . . try again?" he gasped.
"It doesn't work that way." Nightglow turned to find Shadow watching; as usual, the unicorn had showed up where he was least expected.
"Only one chance," Glimmer agreed. "And I failed." She hung her head.
"You tried your best," Sunshine said. "Please don't cry, Glimmer. You had the courage to try; I'm grateful for that."
Glimmer shook her head and slowly walked away. Shadow tilted his head, then hesitantly followed after her. Sunshine and Nightglow leaned against each other and Baby Nightglow stayed quiet, unnoticed behind them. He frowned, flicking his ears at a strange sound . . . suddenly, he knew it was his mother . . . crying. He was stunned. Parents could be angry, parents could be confused, parents could even be sad, but parents were never ever supposed to cry.
"There, there," Nightglow was repeating to her over and over. "There, there."
"I'm s-sorry," Sunshine sobbed. "I know I'm being s-silly about this."
"Silly? No!" Nightglow scoffed. "You just need a little time to . . ." He trailed off uncertainly, but luckily Sunshine didn't seem to notice.
"I mean, at least I'm alive and . . . I was so afraid it would get you, Nightglow, you kept swooping over it so low. And our baby--if he hadn't sensed the danger--"
If I hadn't woken up, maybe you would be okay. Baby Nightglow huddled self-consciously. Maybe Baby Featherfall's trick for hiding from raals would also hide him here.
"We are together," Nightglow confirmed. "That's what's important. If only Glimmer had been able to control her magic for a second more--" For the first time, there was anger in his voice.
"It wasn't her fault," Sunshine sighed. "Truly, it wasn't. She has only minor healing abilities, Nightglow. She did the best she could with what the Rainbow gave her."
"Maybe the Rainbow should've given her a little more," Nightglow muttered.
His mate frowned. "The Rainbow kept us alive, and that's enough for now. Let's rejoin the herd now. Moonbeam will want us to move tonight in case there are other raals."
Nightglow nodded . . . and folded back his wings. When his mate walked, he walked. He had a feeling that he would be walking a lot from now on.
At last, the ponies could barely able to keep their eyes open as they stumbled forward. Sunshine suffered the most, being unused to walking. (Nightglow's resolution to walk with her had failed when Moonbeam had sent him ahead of the group as a scout.)
"Halt!" Moonbeam called at long last. She called Nightglow and Tempest down and conferred with them for a few minutes. "Forward," she said. "I think we've found a place to bed down for a few days."
Relieved, the ponies followed her into a verdant valley, lush with meadow flowers and soft green grass.
"A waterfall!" Baby Nightglow gasped, gazing at a pure stream of water flowing off an elevated rock shelf. The "waterfall" was only five or six feet high. Baby Featherfall also looked as impressed as the colt, but the adults had other things on their minds.
"Mmmm . . . flowers." Azure murmured with satisfaction.
She chewed them slowly as she watched Nightglow pull up a bunch of violets and carefully set them before his mate. Sunshine looked at him cooly. "I can still walk, you know."
Nightglow looked surprised. "Well, yes, but--"
"I'm not a total cripple yet." It was a wonder the stream didn't freeze at the sound of her voice.
"I never said you were," he gaped.
"Oh, just leave me alone!" Sunshine wailed, burying her head between her hooves. Nightglow hesitated before walking away in confusion.
I'm going to have to give him a talking to, Azure thought. Sunshine needs some space, poor thing . . . Her thoughts turned at the sound of her brother's voice.
"This will be an easy place to guard," Tempest was saying. "Next to no trees on the horizon, not much chance of an ambush. But who's going to take first watch?" He glanced around; three or four ponies had already fallen into a deep slumber in the soft grass.
"I will take first watch," Moonbeam replied calmly. "Sleep now, ponies." They obeyed gratefully. Moonbeam tucked her legs beneath her and began scanning the lip of the valley. She felt safe. She was almost positive that they had shaken off any predators. But better safe than sorry, she thought, and she carefully examined the rim of the valley again.
Baby Nightglow slept soundly and dreamlessly in the peaceful valley, but at last he raised his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. In the grey of false dawn, the adults slept on with the exception of the current watcher, Shadow. Waterfall! the baby thought with excitement, galloping towards the burbling stream.
Baby Featherfall was already splashing in the brook when he arrived. She smiled. "I've never seen a waterfall before."
"I have," Baby Nightglow said importantly. But honesty compelled him to add, "I was really little, though. I don't really remember it."
"It couldn't have been much nicer than this one," the rainbow-haired filly said, leaping after a frog, and Baby Nightglow had to agree. After helping Baby Featherfall in her pursuit of the frog, they swam and splashed in the pool beneath the waterfall, played tag, and played hide-and-seek amongst the thin, waving reeds.
It was Baby Nightglow who first got the idea of sliding down the waterfall. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. "C'mon, it'll be fun!" he said, standing at the top of the rocky shelf.
Baby Featherfall looked dubious. "Will we get in trouble?"
The purple colt took a quick glance around. Shadow was still the only other pony awake, soaking up the earliest rays of light, and he could never remember Shadow scolding him or telling him not to do something. In fact, the unicorn generally ignored him. Besides, he was looking at Glimmer right now.
"No one will mind," Baby Nightglow said. No one awake, anyway. Without further ado, he bellyflopped into the stream, stifling a shriek of excitement as he rocketed over the ledge and into the pool below. He surfaced and tried to push his dripping blue forelock out of his eyes. "Try it! It's fun!"
Soon the pink filly came sailing over the waterfall, her mane and tail streaming behind her like miniature rainbows. "That was fun," she agreed. The foals had great fun going over the waterfall on their bellies . . . and their backs . . . and backwards. They spread out their wings as they went over the edge of the waterfall so they'd soar--only a short distance, though, because their wings were soaked through. Laughing, the purple colt climbed out of the little pool again. Turning, he watched Baby Featherfall sail over the waterfall, into the air--
And she stayed in the air an instant before drifting down, as slowly and gently as a dandelion puff. Baby Nightglow gasped in amazement. "How did you do that? You didn't even open your wings!"
"It's magic," she explained.
"Pegasi don't have magic," the purple baby scoffed.
"But Rainbow ponies have magic," Baby Featherfall countered, shaking a spray of water from her mane. "Rainbow magic."
"Rainbow pony?" Baby Nightglow repeated. "Is that why your hair is so pre--Is that why your hair is like that?"
"Uh huh," the pink pegasus confirmed without particular interest. "Come on, Baby Nightglow, I'll race you to the top of the waterfall!"
"Baby Featherfall an' me played all day! Then it got too dark to see the waterfall, but we counted shooting stars!" Baby Nightglow announced. His mother looked happier now, he noted.
She nuzzled him fondly. "I'm glad you had so much fun. You should get some sleep now."
The colt flopped onto his back beside Sunshine, snuggling next to her. "Mama? Will we stay here a while? I like this place."
"Probably, Baby Nightglow. Everyone's very tired still."
"I wish we could stay here forever . . ." His eyes kept trying to drift shut. "Did you know the stars make shapes? Baby Featherfall didn't believe me--" he stifled a yawn, "--but then she saw them too."
His parents exchanged quizzical looks. "What kind of shapes?" his father asked.
"I saw a dragon . . . and a pegasus . . . and a lion . . ."
"Lions are just pretend," Sunshine reminded him.
"Yeah, but . . . it's there. See?" He pointed his hoof skyward. "What do you see when you look, Daddy?"
"Stars," Nightglow replied simply.
"I don't see any dragons or lions either," Sunshine smiled. "Our eyes must not be as good as yours."
"Anyone can . . . see them if they . . . try . . ." His head nodded.
"No lions or dragons . . . just a tired little pegasus," Nightglow laughed softly, lying down.
Soon three little pegasi were sound asleep. None of them woke when a figure darker than the night glided behind them--Shadow, ready to replace Tempest and take watch once again.
Reaching a grassy hillock, he stared at the spangled sky. Stars. But after a few minutes he saw the dragon forever writhing towards the frozen pegasus.
Lowering his gaze, he stared hard at the purple colt tucked between his parents. "That foal is going to be trouble," he repeated to himself.
"Thank the Rainbow," Nightglow sighed, stretching his wings.
"Guess what?" Baby Nightglow said suddenly. "When I grow up, I'm going to be a Rainbow pony! Then I can do magic and--"
"Oh, dragon!" Nightglow laughed. Sunshine was stifling a giggle too.
The foal's face fell. "What?" he asked.
"You can't just become a Rainbow pony!" Sunshine smiled at the idea.
"But . . . but you said when baby ponies grow up, they choose their own names and get their own colors! You said so!" The foal's lip trembled.
"Sit down, son. I'll explain," Nightglow said kindly. "Most little babies look like their mother or their father . . . For example, when I was a foal, I was silver with purple hair, just like my father, and I was called Baby Whirlwind."
Baby Nightglow tried to picture his father as a foal and failed.
". . . and when they begin to grow up they have a Naming Ceremony," Nightglow continued. "And you're right, they do pick out their own name and get their own colors."
"Right!" the baby pegasus agreed. "So--"
"BUT Rainbow ponies are different. Why do you think Baby Featherfall looks different than her mother?"
"Uh . . ."
"Rainbow ponies have their own symbol and colors from the moment they're born," Sunshine broke in. "And always that rainbow hair."
"Why?"
"The Rainbow chooses them to be defenders of the herds. Their magic protects us all," she said.
Baby Nightglow looked surprise. "Baby Featherfall is a . . . a protector of the herd?"
"She will be someday."
Baby Nightglow frowned. "So I can't be a Rainbow pony? Because they're born that way?"
"I'm afraid not, dragon." His father nuzzled him.
"But you'll always be our special little pony," Sunshine added, giving him a hug.
Baby Nightglow hugged her back . . . but some rebellious little part of him whispered that he would like to be their special little pony and a Rainbow pony besides.