Full Moon Ritual: Motives

The ritual was at midnight. Brave Storm arrived a couple of hours early, hoping to aid in setting up the ritual. But even though she was early for participation, she felt was late in the aid she could offer. A bonfire was burning and a cauldron sat above it, boiling a very seasonal-smelling brew. Brave Storm wondered for a moment if it belonged to the two-pony coven who lived on the outskirts of Ponyville. The design on the feet of the cauldron was plain and not the decorated clawed feet the self-proclaimed witches had. Speaking of, she was happy to see Harvest Moon, the unicorn who supplied Brave Storm mint, was finally able to put her plants to use for this experiment as she tossed fragrant dried plants into the fire.

While she was early, she wasn’t the first to show up for the ritual. It wasn’t hard to see the large white and gold pony she’s worked with before taking up one of the larger cushions as he stared into the dancing flames as they licked the kettle’s bottom. His brow was furrowed and his eyes darted around. Slowly and subtly his expression would change if she waited long enough. 

She plopped down on the cushion next to him, intentionally being obnoxious about it so that Gold Standard would pull himself out of his own thoughts. He blinked and straightened his posture.

“Ah, Brave Storm. I was starting to think you might not show.” he greeted. 

“Of course I would show after the hard work we put in to make this happen.” Brave Storm put on a face of mock offense. She caught a faint whiff of a new scent and found the source to be on Gold Standard. “Cologne?”

“Yes, I really needed to smell something that wasn’t mint for an hour. I was getting a headache,” he answered, rubbing his temple with a hoof as the memory of the smell was enough to bring forth the echo of a migraine. “Do you like it?”

She leans in a little to take a closer sniff and lets it mull over before she answers, “You smell like a forest after it rains.”

“I do think that’s what -ahem-” Gold Standard clears his throat before putting on a sultry accent, “-Rainy Nights by Fleur de Lis in her Return to Nature collection-” he drops the accent- “was going for.”

Brave Storm laughed. It started and stayed in her head. But she couldn’t wrangle it for long as it traveled down to her throat and landed in her belly. She wrapped her hooves around her gut as her laugh traveled easily through the woods and tears entered her eyes. She tried desperately to end them early, knowing many find her laughing fits obnoxious, but that only resulted in the ugly pig-like snorting she was mocked into hating. It took way longer than she liked for her laughing to cease and for her body to finally allow her the deep breath that ends the fit.

And then she waited. Waited for the dreaded words she always hears when she laughs so deeply to come. “It wasn’t that funny.” She braced herself. But different words came instead.

“I’m glad you thought it was so humorous.” Gold Standard said with a lingering laugh in his voice, and she noticed he was wiping a tear out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t think it was that funny, but your laugh is so contagious.”

“Oh dear, I didn’t even hear you laughing with me.” Brave Storm admits. She looked at the other ponies who were already there and was relieved and surprised nopony seemed to care. If anything, Professor Golden Sage looked happy to see somepony laughing.

“It’s not a privilege most ponies are privy to.” 

 

“I’ve been thinking. I don’t read you as the type that would have helped this Wild Magic ritual happen, much less participate in it.” Brave Storm prompted. “I’ve noticed the Canterlot folks are far more against this than the Ponyville folks.”

“There’s a lot to unload with that.” Gold Standard warned. “You sure you want to hear all this?”

“We have time. Opinion for an opinion?”

“Thought for a thought.” Gold Standard confirmed with a nod of his head. “From what I hear from you, you have a good relationship with your family, yes? Tell me, did you go through that rebellious teenager phase?”

“I think I would have liked to think I was being rebellious. Looking back on it, I don’t think my parents cared that I was doing wild things with my hair and wearing weird clothes.” Brave Storm recounts. “I guess they were happy to let me express myself as long as I didn’t do anything that would be permanent. Otherwise, I would totally have gotten a tongue piercing.”

“Do you have one now?” 

Brave Storm stuck out her bare tongue as an answer. 

“Hm. Well, I didn’t get to have that exploration phase. Reputation is important in my family and having an emo-punk colt running around your studio wasn’t exactly sightly for their classical partners.” Gold Standard looked away from Brave Storm, looking to the mulchy soil and shoving it around with his hoof. “When a foal can’t express themselves through their appearance, they get rebellious through their actions. I know it’s petty, but I’m here because I know my parents would hate it if they knew I was doing this. But I’m an adult now, and they can’t tell me that I can’t be here. Especially without making a scene. A scene would damage their own appearance.”

Brave Storm wasn’t sure what to say. She never had a particular love for the high-class Canterlot ponies and was certainly surprised to see Gold Standard involved in this at all. She only tagged along with the cragadile hunt to make sure he didn’t get himself killed. But he proved himself to be invaluable with the Bufogren knowing Equestrian Sign Language. More importantly to her, unlike Summer Solo, he took an interest in her viewpoint and asked for her to share it, rather than defend it. And through Gold Standard, she began to feel sorry for the ponies trapped in high-class society.

“I’m sorry.” she got out. It felt unhelpful to offer her condolences, but it was all that she felt she could give.

“No worries.” he dismissed and turned his attention back to the mare. “Your turn. Why is a refugee helping aid the research? I feel like if I was in your horseshoes, I would have been on Jade Caster’s side and trying to stop this research.”

“I’m sorry- what?”

“Oh, right. You haven’t been in Canterlot since the earthquake.” Gold Standard remembered. “In short, the headmaster of Canterlot’s school of magic found out about-” he vaguely gestures- “this and is not very happy. He called a meeting for those that expressed disdain against the flyers Golden Sage had posted and encouraged ponies to help cease this project. Mind you, I was only there because my parents dragged me along.”

Brave Storm grunted and rolled her eyes. Maybe if Jade Caster was so concerned, he could have offered to help instead of potentially hurting more ponies. 

“If it makes you feel better, while a lot of the ponies that attended were riled up, very few actually did anything.” he offered and sighed. “That’s just how it is in Canterlot. Somepony else will deal with it. Never you.”

“That sounds frustrating. Where to start? Ah, you remember the earthquake last month?”

“I did mention it not all that long ago, yes.”

“Right, well- I felt it before it happened,” she told him. “I felt the earth twitching beneath my hooves. I was with a unicorn when it happened. He didn’t feel anything. And none of the other ponies around me were reacting.”

“Allegedly, zebras have always been a little more sensitive to natural phenomena. It isn’t too far out of the question that’s all it was.”

It took all of Brave Storm’s effort to not roll her eyes or suck her teeth. This zebra thing again. At least she had a solid rebuttal this time.

“There was another earth pony there. Dusty, she was feeling that rumble, too.” Brave Storm countered. “No- she wasn’t a zebra. Pretty basic earth pony, honestly. But she did work with plants. She had this whole produce garden that she moved to Canterlot to help work. She mentioned that even though there was unicorn and pegasus magic behind it, it didn’t work as well until she helped.”

“I see. Then maybe you and her both just have a pre-existing connection to the natural world. Your zebra heritage aside-” Gold Standard defended, rearing his head back against the daggers in Brave Storm’s eyes “-I do think I’m onto something there. Dusty grew plants that weren’t responding to traditional magic and your cutie mark is a giant tree. I don’t think it's that far-fetched to assume that she and you might have already been subtly aware of the presence of Natural Magic. Bring it up to Golden Sage, if you don’t want to take my word for it.”

“Let’s assume that theory is true. I’m already ‘open’ to Wild Magic. This ritual could hypothetically make you the way I am now.” she trails off for a moment and bites her bottom lip. “What would it do to me?”

“I don’t think this ritual is going to do anything if I’m being honest.” he offers, continuing when it was obvious the thought didn’t bring any comfort to the mare. “But, whatever it does to you, I’ll be right here and I’ll do my unqualified best to help you through it.”

Brave Storm lay in silence for a while, mulling over Gold Standard’s words. She had no idea what her cutie mark could possibly mean. She couldn’t go to someone and recount how she got it because it was on her flank for as long as she could remember. Every time she tried to dig the memory out, it was like there were mental blocks keeping her from finding out. Like her own subconscious was forbidding knowledge from her consciousness. 

“Brave Storm?” she felt a nudge on her flank that pulled her from her thoughts. She was staring deeply into the flames, much like how Gold Standard was when she first spotted him. She looked behind her to see the bat pony covenmate of Harvest Moon, Witching Hour, standing over her.

“Ah, back to the realm of the living? I could really use some help.” Harvest Moon requested. “I was making snacks for Harvest Moon, but I felt like it would have been rude to leave everypony else out. I made a whole bunch, but the cart I loaded is too heavy for me. Would you mind helping me bring it out here? It’s not too terribly far away.”

“Course I’ll help.” Brave Storm confirmed, stretching her legs before standing. “I’ll be back, Gold.”

“I’ll keep your seat warm,” he promised with a wave.

Brave Storm followed Witching Hour for a few steps before she stopped and turned to look over her shoulder. 

“Hey,” she called, getting Gold Standard’s attention one last time. “You’re nice to talk to.”

“I-” he began, cutting himself off to instead give a somewhat awkward, “Thank you?”