Esquestria: The House of the Sun - A pony cultist experience

This piece of literature is meant for mature audiences, and its content includes or may include themes that involve the following subjects:
If you do not wish to be exposed to any of the subjects cited above, you should STOP READING IMMEDIATELY.



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You are Lady Velvet Covers, and once again you have arrived in Canterlot.

The central train station, you realize, is becoming slightly familiar now. To the point that you no longer need to stop and look around, after leaving the train, to reorient yourself. And for all that you still glance at the signs pointing towards the exit, directing you to the main street you want to take, you can tell that you are doing it more out of habit than actual necessity.

You also feel like the hustle and bustle of the station is becoming less loud to you. Everything around you is still noisy, of course, with the crowd of hoofsteps and the noise of machinery and the piercing whistles of the stationmasters filling the air at every given moment. However, you are definitely less affected by it than you were before.

Although it definitely helps that the station feels less packed than it did before the Catastrophe. Which you can't help but feel is somewhat curious. Because the trains are still full as ever, and the station doesn't fill less crowded because there are less ponies in here. No. Instead, you feel this is happening because everypony is just… giving each other slightly more space.

Not by much. Not enough that you can actually see through the mass of ponies or anything. But still enough for you to notice you are not rubbing sides with anypony as you move, and that your saddle bag is not getting tangled up with somepony else's luggage every few minutes.

Regardless, you make your way through the central station without much thought.

You walk down the arched passes that lead to the main street, making your way through the central avenues with a light trot, but you don't immediately head to the Royal District. Well, you are technically going in the direction of the Royal District, but your first order of business for today isn't at the Royal Castle or the Lunar Bureau.

Because even though you don't want to, today is the day that… you will go speak with your father.

You need to speak with him for several reasons. First of all there is the matter of noble etiquette. You live in another town, so you are expected to pay your respects whenever you arrive at the city where the family head lives. It's just how things are in noble society. But secondly, and much more important, there is the matter of the duties you were assigned by your family.

More precisely, there is the matter that you stopped performing the duties you were assigned by him. Namely, the administration of the Velvet holdings on Ponyville.

You knew you would have to speak to him the moment you accepted your job at the Lunar Bureau, and you have been exchanging letters with the family mansion ever since Cadance left your home. And finally, you received notice that you are expected at the mansion today, so that is what you are doing right now.

Thankfully, this means you will be able to get this business sorted out before you even start your week. And hopefully, this matter will be entirely settled before you ever step hoof on the Royal Castle.

Although, knowing your father, you fear that things… might not be so simple.

You shake your head, realizing what direction your thoughts are going and quickly closing that door before you cross it.

Yes, you can't let your fears get the best of you. What is done is done, and whatever happens will happen. Besides, you are not going to the family mansion because you did something wrong. You were not summoned because you messed something up, and need to be somehow reprimanded. You are meeting your father because you are working for the Crown, and because accepting a very important job means that the task of filling some ledgers in a farmhouse must now be done by somepony else.

You are Commissioner Velvet Covers, and the only pony in Canterlot you answer to is Princess Celestia herself!

Or at least, that is what you keep telling yourself as you walk down the streets of Canterlot…

Still, there is nothing you can do but keep walking. You are expected in the mansion in maybe two hours, and you definitely don't want to get there early and be forced to wait, so you decide to take a more scenic route.

You take the longest way you can find, casually trotting your way through great Canterlot and taking in the sights as you pass them. You pass by the traditional mountain-sculpted homes, carved from the face of the mountain itself as Canterlot grew, as well as the brick-and-wood buildings that were added much later. You stop and look at the businesses and shops, and you take a detour every now and then to take a look at a small park or fountain as you find them.

And as the minutes go by, the straight line that would have taken you to your childhood home slowly becomes a zigzag of stops and starts. All so you can arrive at the mansion gates as close as possible to the time you are supposed to get there.



Of course, you also do that because somepony has been following you ever since you left the train station.



It is a strange sensation, to be followed like this. It is a smell that you can't really relate to anything else. It is not sharp, or acid, or metallic, or even sweet or pleasant. It is not like the smell of everypony else around you in the streets, neither does it have the particular feeling of "this is how you reach them" that you sense whenever it's somepony of your family.

It actually feels like a latch, or a weight, or a rope that is tied to one of your legs. Something that drags behind you as you move. Not the idea that this is the way to the one you seek, but instead this is the trail being followed by one who seeks you.

Although you use the word "seek", when your nose undeniably prefers the term "hunt".

Still, this is a strange sensation. And it is one you have been feeling for a while now. You weren't exactly sure of what this meant, at first, but as the minutes dragged on, and as you kept being followed despite your detours and tourist-like double-backs, you finally understood what is happening.

So, naturally, you didn't do anything about it. You allowed yourself to be followed, because that was the best thing you could possibly do.

Because if you tried to shake them off, the only thing that would happen is the other side would learn you can shake pursuers off. You wouldn't gain anything, and you would just give away information for free.

But if you let them follow you? Well, in that case you can learn oh so much. You can check for how long they follow you, or in what part of Canterlot they decide to stop tracking you. You can test how good they are at it, fading into a crowd for a few moments just to see how patient and skilled they are. You can see if they get closer to you whenever you reach an emptier place, maybe to try to hurt you, or if they keep their distance even when you appear to be vulnerable.

But most importantly, you can also do this.

You make a sudden turn as you walk through a busy street, walking into a bookstore as if something just caught your fancy. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that Lady Velvet Covers wouldn't do whenever she has time to spare.

Except that the small bell on the door doesn't ring as you open it, and none of the store assistants even look at you as you enter.

You make your way deeper into the store without breaking stride, tracking your follower as he finally realizes you are gone. The prey-drag attached to you wavers for a moment, begins to fade, until your follower notices the bookstore, making his way to the other side of the street where he can keep eyes on the exit without calling attention.

You nod to yourself at that. You would feel awfully silly if your tracker decided to give up right when you are about to do this. Still, you head to the second floor of the bookstore.

You ask the manager where the employee-only area is, she answers you because there is nothing strange in doing that.

You click your way through the locked door, and a mare on her break waves at you without even looking in your direction. You wave back, because not doing so would be rude.

A sudden gust of wind surges into the room, and the mare curses as she gets up to close the window. For some reason, she apologizes as if that was her fault. You accept her apology, thanking her for closing the window, which you opened, only after you were out.

And of course, there isn't a mare climbing out through the second floor window. Nopony would ever believe it if they saw it, so nopony bothers to see it.

You flit-flit-fly from one lamppost to the other, crossing the street at the eye level of a flying pegasus.



And a soft breeze cushions your fall as you land right next to your follower.



You take a good look at him (and you are now sure it's a him) looking for anything that might help you.

Is it one of the Bureau candidates, following you to make sure of something?

Do you sense a whiff of the Mansus in them, maybe marking them as a member of the Cult?

Is it a changeling?

You silently get closer and closer to him, seeing the horn on his forehead, and then the color of his fur, and then the suit he is wearing under his coat. Until you finally get a good look on his face and realize that…

"Oh, is that you Vellum? How have you been?"

"SWEET MOTHER OF THE SUN!"

The stallion pivots on the spot, legs opening to a wider posture and horn aimed at you as if he is ready for a fight. His face pale and eyes wide open as he yells at you.

Dear heavens, can't he see he startled the other passersby?

"W-wait… Lady Covers?" he asks, although you can see he is talking to himself more than you. "But you were just… h-how in Equestria did you…?!"

You give him a few seconds to calm down, taking a hoof to your mouth and letting out a disarming giggle. Although you do that more for the benefit of the nearby ponies than anything else. Seeing a mare laugh at something usually makes ponies think that nothing wrong just happened.

"I-I mean, I apologize, Lady Covers. It is, ah, a very pleasant coincidence to see you here."

"I agree, it is always nice to bump into you. How have you been?" you say, nodding at the young unicorn. And you can see how the unicorn relaxes slightly as you tell him you "believe" that this is a "coincidence".

Which is exactly what you hope he is thinking. No need for him to know that you know, and no need to make him nervous. He works for your uncle, after all, so you know you can trust him.

Although you still can't help but feel curious as to why…

"I'm beneath your kindness, my Lady, but thank you so much for asking. I've been fine, really. Running errands for Lord Steppes and staying out of trouble," he says, with a surprisingly honest tone.

You consider pressing him a little more for answers, but you decide not to. If the colt doesn't feel like telling you, then it would be rude to try and find out. Besides, you know Uncle Steppes enough to realize how protective he is, so you can't help but think that Vellum was following you around just to make sure you are safe.

You are still a mare, after all, and Canterlot is still a big city. The idea that your uncle is watching out for you even now puts a smile on your face, and that is enough for you.

Especially considering that he knows you will be going to the mansion today. You did write him a few letters, short as they may have been, as you were trying to schedule a meeting with your father.

"That is good to hear, Vellum. Is there any chance that your errands are taking you to the Velvet mansion? I just happen to be going there, and I could use the company."

You watch as the stallion hesitates only slightly before answering you, and you can practically see how there are several factors flashing before his eyes as he tries to figure out how to answer.

He is definitely not nearly as smooth as he needs to be. But you can't help but find that endearing.

"I'm afraid… not, Lady Covers. I have do some things to do for Lord Steppes in another part of town," he says, he lies, but you answer him with a smile nonetheless.

And you are about to say your goodbyes before the stallion continues to speak.

"But it really is fortunate we met, Lady Covers. In fact, I was hoping we would meet today, as it so happens," he says, and you watch him hesitate only for a fraction of a second before he continues to speak. "Lord Steppes mentioned something, not long ago, and I don't think he had the opportunity to talk to you about it yet. And since he is not in town today, I figure I should let you know."

Oh? So he was meant to follow you and deliver a message? You wonder how he originally intended to do it. Was he going to follow you until you were close to the mansion and pretend he was passing by right as you were approaching the front gate?

"So Uncle Steppes isn't here? How unfortunate. I was hoping he would be at the mansion," you say, both out of honesty as well as to encourage him to continue talking.

"I'm afraid he isn't, my Lady. But I think he would like you to know that…" he slows down, fractionally, as he very carefully chooses his words before saying them. "He has been in contact with Lord Hill. And he has been working hard to… ensure the family affairs are running smoothly. So he hopes that, whatever happens, you trust him that it is for the best."

You raise an eyebrow at his words, keeping his gaze even after the stallion goes quite. Of course, young Vellum isn't about to walk away before you let him go, but he realizes there is nothing else for him to say either. So, the seconds slowly stretch on as you keep your eyes on him. The unicorn becoming progressively less and less comfortable as he wonders if he did something wrong.

But you, on the other hoof, take those few moments to think. You wrote your uncle saying that you hoped he would be here today, of course, but it seems he is unavailable. And yet, he made sure to send you a message through Vellum.

And that message is that he... has been around? That he already did something? That you should trust whatever is about to happen?

You trust Uncle Steppes. Of course you do. But you can't help but feel both curious, and nervous, at what all of this might mean and…

"I see," you say, nodding to the unicorn and finally breaking eye contact. You think you hear him sigh in relief, but you are already giving him an elegant wave and turning away. "Thank you so much for this message, Vellum, and I am sorry we won't be heading the same way. I hope you stay well, and until we meet again."

You listen to the unicorn give you a short bow, but you are already walking away before he gets back up.

And less than a minute later, you once again feel the scent that you are being followed. The sensation following you until you reach the Velvet mansion gates.

You silently thank your uncle for that. Because for all that he can't be here today, you figure this is his way of showing you that he cares.

And of course, just as you are about to cross the mansion gates, and moments before the follow-scent finally breaks, you turn around and give a short wave to the direction you know Vellum is watching from.

No need to be rude to the young unicorn. He is a good colt, after all.



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You do not feel cold.

Your father's office is large. Large and opulent, with gleaming cabinets of polished, expensive wood and great chairs of soft and rich cushions. It is a center of work as much as it is of intrigue, lined with large tomes and tallies containing journals, records, and who knows what else. It is the quiet, beating heart of one of the several trade factions that dot Equestria, pumping blood that was made blue by the sheer amount of bits it hoarded and exchanged.

And at its center is sitting its lord. A pony who does not look small, despite the riches and opulence that surrounds him. In fact, he is a pony whose very presence makes everything around him look fleeting and irrelevant instead. After all, everything you see belongs to him. Everything around you was, if not built by him, then enhanced and expanded under his rule.

You sit before Velvet Hill. The pony that you loved, and then feared, and then hated throughout your life.

You stare at your father, as you sit down in front of his large desk, and he stares at you back.

But much to your surprise, you are not shivering. You are not scared, or tense, or even nervous. You do not feel anything.

You do not feel cold.

It takes a particular kind of finesse to be this focused. Too much of it and you would be numb, cloud-eyed, or perhaps even inattentive. Too little of it and you might show something, perhaps a thought or an emotion, that you don't want to show.

Because you don't want to show weakness. You don't want him to look down on you. Hay, you don't even want this to last any longer than it absolutely has to.

But you also… you also don't want to show defiance either. You don't want to show him how much you hate him. You don't even want to show him that you care.

Because you know that showing him anything at all, good or bad, is giving him some sort of advantage. So, the best thing you can do… is to be indifferent.

"Covers," he says, his expression schooled and neutral. Even if he has a slight frown.

"Hill," you answer.

And after that, a few seconds pass by without a word being exchanged.

You can feel the tension rising, somewhere deep inside of you. You can feel it the same way you can tell when a glass is being slowly filled with water. But still, this glass is far from full, and you know you can still manage it.

However, you cannot stop yourself from wondering what he is thinking.

Because your father, cautious as he might be, is not afraid of showing a sharp tongue. In the past, he wouldn't hesitate to criticize you for any mistakes you have made, real or perceived. And you know that, by now, he would usually already have made some kind of comment about some aspect of your life. Maybe he would point out some mistake you made when managing the farmlands, maybe he would very sharply ask whether you were planning on having another foal already, this time making it a unicorn.

Regardless of what it was, he would say something, and you would have no choice but to give him a meek answer or just stay quiet.

However, he has not said anything yet. And as the seconds stretch by, you get the impression he won't say anything at all.

And for some reason, you can't help but think that is… somehow worse.

After all, you whole life you have been beneath your father. You have always been the disappointing daughter, and he has always been the disappointed patriarch.

But if he is not going to treat you like a daughter, then does that mean he will treat you like…?

"I have heard the Crown has appointed you Commissioner, and that you were given wide discretion to pursue the Princesses' will."

He says that as if he is stating the obvious, but you can sense the implied question. You understand that the fact he is talking about this means he has decided not to talk about something else.

That he has decided to go straight into business.

Your tension rises. The glass fills a little more. You wonder what his behavior means.

"That is correct."

You want to think your father is treating you like an equal. That maybe this even implies he respects you, or at least the position you have. But you can't help but think that is not the case.

Or rather, you already know that is not how he thinks. He cannot possibly treat you like an equal, because he doesn't believe in equals.

You remember, or at least you think you remember, that he once told you that… a pony only ever has superiors and inferiors. That in life, things are always like that. The same way a pony can only be either a unicorn or something else. And among those superiors, they are either your enemies… or they are so larger than you that you can only work to stay beneath their notice.

So if your father is not treating you like an inferior… then which other option is it?

"Princess Celestia's decree cannot be questioned, of course," he says, still holding your gaze. And you feel like his eyes are boring into your soul even though he hasn't even blinked. "But the fact remains that our Ponyville assets are not serving their purpose. As it is, they are currently being wasted."

And finally, you see the barb in his otherwise mundane words.

Because even though his tone is completely neutral, and even though he is speaking to you as if he is talking about the weather, you know he is saying this for a reason. And you think you understand what the reason is.

After all, in his eyes, the Ponyville estate is not your home. It is not the place where you moved with your husband and raised a family, no. To him, the Ponyville estate is just a base of operations. An address to which he sends instructions and receives bits.

And if his Ponyville assets aren't doing precisely that, then are being wasted. Which in turn means there is no reason for you to be allowed to stay there, if you won't be doing anything about it.

You remember how he treated Wings. He never really disowned your older brother, and he didn't kick him out to the streets. But he didn't give anything to your brother either. He was allowed to live in the mansion, to keep appearances, but that was it.

And it is no secret that you are… attached, to your Ponyville home.

"That is also correct," you say.

But what is he going to do about it? What can he do about it? Well, he can kick you out of Ponyville, for starters. Or he can threaten to do that, even if he doesn't actually plan to follow through.

However, no matter how hard you think, you can't think of a reason as to why he would do that.

Because here is the thing. Here is an ugly truth that you eventually realized after years of living away from this mansion. Here is something you understood only after spending oh so long dealing with your feelings:

You might hate your father, but he does not hate you back. He simply does not care.

So, for all that you dislike him… for all that you hate him, even that is only a one way street. He doesn't care for you any more than he cares for a failed investment. He raised you, you failed him, and then he sold you away to a family of cloud merchants. That you eventually turned around and finally found a measure of happiness was neither intentional nor relevant to him.

Which in turn means that… he won't threaten you. He won't kick you out. Or, at least, he won't do it out of spite.

He won't do it unless there is something in it for him.

And the only, the only thing you can think of is… well, the obvious answer. He wants to leverage your position in the Lunar Bureau for… whatever he has in mind for the future.

But, from a purely logical, cold, and objective perspective, you also realize the one token he has is very small indeed.

Because he might not be emotional, but you both know that you are. And if he follows through? If he asks you to do something, some kind of favor, and you refuse, and he decides to kick you out of Ponyville?

Well, the only thing he will be left with is no leverage, and a very emotional Commissioner who suddenly has a reason to hate him.

And he can't be planning to do that. He is not a fool, you know.

So why… why did he bring this up? Why dangle this token in front of your eyes, if it doesn't make sense for him to use it?

What in the heavens is he planning to do?

"I cannot let my outskirts assets go to waste like this. Especially given the current situation of Equestria, and the Princess' decision regarding nobles. I can't let anypony else lay claim to what belongs to the Velvets."

And you already know what he is going to say before the words even leave his mouth.

"So, a new administrator will be assigned to the farmlands. He will take over authority on the family matters in Ponyville."

The true meaning behind his words immediately clicks, the moment you hear them.

This is his plan. This is what he has in mind. And he even seems to be doing you the courtesy of telling you.

Because you know he has eyes in your home. You know some of the servants report to him, even if you don't know how regularly. But you also know that he doesn't have enough eyes to follow your every move.

Or at least, he didn't have enough eyes, until now.

It all makes sense now. He won't kick you out of his home. In fact, he doesn't want you anywhere out of his reach, he wants the opposite. He will fill the estate with servants that answer only to him.

More than that, you can already tell he is going to capitalize on your name. Because if an administrator begins to use the Velvet name like a bludgeon, in Ponyville, then what will everypony think? How much of that administrator's decisions will look like they came from your own mouth? How much leeway will he have, to imply that whatever he is doing is approved by Velvet Covers… by Commissioner Velvet Covers?

Your ice-frozen neck stops your head from making a small, understanding nod, and your snow-covered eyes stop you from squinting at him. Your expression remains utterly neutral and polite as he says that.

But still, you understand…

"I will make sure the administrative transition runs smoothly," you say.

And after that short exchange of shots, you think you are finally going to be dismissed.

However, much to your surprise, he raises a hoof to signal he is not done talking.

"There is no need for that," he says, and you will yourself not to tilt your head. "Velvet Pride will be taking over the farmlands. And he is more than enough prepared to do it without your input."

He says that, and for all that you remain utterly still you actually feel shocked.

Because he is sending Velvet Pride… he is sending your younger brother to Ponyville? The same younger brother he all but forbade you from even contacting? That he has probably raised and groomed more closely and strictly than he did you?

But… but why? Is he that shortstaffed of ponies he can trust? No, that can't be it. Does he think your younger brother can keep tags on your better than a more experienced pony? He is too young, so that doesn't make sense. Did Velvet Pride perhaps disappoint him as well, and this is just another son that he is getting rid of? That… probably makes more sense.

Those thoughts flash through your mind one after the other, until finally your father finishes what he was saying.

"The farmlands made something out of you. So this seems to be a reasonable test for him. That will be all, you are dismissed."

You get up from your chair without hesitation, giving him a short curtsy before making to leave the room.

And as you mull over his last words in your head, you think you finally get it. Because that last remark of his, that last tidbit of opinion he shared with you, you can't help but think those words were strangely… uncharacteristic of him.

To the point that he reminded you of somepony else, even if just for a moment.

And almost as if to confirm your suspicion, you feel the trace smell of a sweet cigar as soon as you step hoof outside of his office. Almost as if somepony who smokes spent a long time here, these last few days, doing this and that.

Your father does not smoke, you know.

But your uncle does.

You have no idea what your father's decision might entail. But you decide that… you are going to trust in your uncle's words.

You are going to trust that this is for the best. Or, if nothing else, that this is the best option out of several worse alternatives.





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Your work at the Lunar Bureau consumes most of your waking hours as the days go by. Your lack of experience and knowledge about so many things mean that the only way for you to keep up is by waking up early and going to bed late. And you are sincerely giving your all to learn about the workings of the guard, and the laws of Equestria, and the techniques behind an investigation, and all the other myriad things you will need in order to effectively run the Bureau.

Most of the times, as you finally reach your guestroom in the Royal Castle, you just want to sleep. Most of the times, you really don't have the energy to do anything else.

But you also have other things you must do. And sometimes, a certain restlessness simply gets the best of you, and you eschew a dreamless sleep in favor of something else.

Because not even all the responsibilities and duties in the world can make you forget the light of Glory.



…



The Woods surround you on all sides, dark trees of dry leaves circling around you like statues. The black dust from the soil shifting whenever you are not paying attention, as if a faint breeze is constantly rearranging it. But only when you are not looking.

You have never been here before. You have never been to this part of the Woods before. And for all that you know that is always the case, you somehow feel that today is different. You are confident that you have never been in the same place in the Woods twice, but for some reason you also feel that this particular spot is…

Is what? Less elusive? More intriguing? Special?

You shake your head, giving up on trying to understand what you are feeling and simply accepting it for what it is. Because it doesn't really matter. It might be the echo of an ancient yearning, that never really received a proper name. Or it might be your own confusion finally getting the best of you, and signaling that you are about to be lost for the rest of the night. But regardless of what it is, it really does not matter.

Not here. Not in the Woods.

You walk without direction between the trees, letting the roots trip you whenever they feel like, and crushing the flittering things under your hoofs whenever you step on them. Not caring whether it is a leaf or a wing or a forgotten patch of dry skin. You continue to walk in the absolute darkness, listening to the buzzing drone of insects and the constant shearing of scissors.

That is, until you realize that these things you can hear… the wind and the leaves and the sound your hoof makes when it hits the black soil… you realize that it has a beat to it, of sorts.

You realize that it is… constant. Constant, and timed, and undeniably rhythmic.

You shake your head, realizing that there is definitely something unusual going on. Realizing that everything around you is still the Woods, yes, but also something more. Realizing that, as you walk this and that way, this sensation grows and wanes as if it had a source.

So, naturally, you follow the source. You track these highs and lows of rhythm until you figure out where it is coming from.

And it becomes much, much easier when you realize you can use the beating of your own heart as a compass of sorts. Because you swear that it almost sings, in a way that is all too familiar, whenever you face the proper direction.



Soon enough, you see the faint traces of Glory shining down, and the hungry trunks of the trees make give way to the light as you step out into an enormous clearing.



You know of this place. You have never been here before, but you remember hearing about it. You think Starry Dancer mentioned it, months ago, during one of your conversations.

It is a structure, or at least it is made to look like a structure. Although it is not made of the blue-ish Mansus stone that you see in the paths and on the stairs. Instead, it is made of something older. Something that looks like uncarved wood, or perhaps like a tree that was somehow grown into a specific shape.

And you say it has a "shape" to it because it really does. You can see there is some sort of design to it. Made out of curves and spirals and other shapes that, even though your eyes can follow, don't really seem to end. Circular things, that don't really loop into each other but also never really untangle from each other either.

This temple, and you know it is a temple, is composed first and foremost of a central structure. It looks like it is placed at the top of a hill, but the hill itself is also made out of the same wooden material. It has no pillars, and no steps, but instead things that look like roots that grew out of its very walls. And these root constructs are what connect the ground to the ceiling, forming its walls, and they also expand above and beyond the temple itself.

Part of you feels like the entire thing is designed like a giant, crude heart, and every last one of those "roots" is a vein, that loops around the place and connects back to itself.

Yet another part of you feels like this place is a giant wheel. As if the "roots" would finally connect and form one enormous wheel if they were given the chance to grow just a little more. That if the temple was alive, and had just a little more time, it would somehow connect all the spirals and close all the circles, and things would finally make sense once again.

And a third, smaller part of you, for some reason feels that… both those explanations are correct.

And that they are both also wrong. Or, at least, that they are wrong now, even if they were right at some point in the past.

Regardless, you know this is a place of importance.

Stepping up through the root-made "hill" towards the central structure is harder than you anticipated. But not because the path is smooth to the touch. Instead, you constantly think that the ground you are stepping on is about to spin under your hoofs. You feel as if the entire thing will pivot around some unseen axis if you are not careful.

In fact, that happens more than once, even if the same place refuses to spin once again after you try to test it.

Still, despite those small difficulties, you eventually reach the summit and approach the larger structure.

You finally reach that giant heart, shaped like a wheel, built out of wooden veins.

You finally get to that giant wheel, shaped like a heart, made out of wooden roots.

And you can see… no, you can sense… that this place is still occupied.

You can hear the rhythm coming from inside of it, of something that yet lingers.

You can sense it in your legs, as they begin to tap on the floor whenever you are not paying attention.

But most of all you can see this place can still be entered because the main entrance, right before your eyes, is still thrumming with the echo of the beats that come from down below.

…

You must Wake quickly, lest you forget the path that brings here.

But still, you will make sure to return later.





Velvet Pride, your father's youngest son, will relocate to Ponyville in order to assume stewardship of the farmlands. You have never met him in your life, and you have no idea of how he is like. But given how carefully your father raised him you are not sure this is a good thing.

You have located located located the Temple of the Wheel, that great and old place that even the passage of eras cannot seem to touch. For that, you have gained one scrap of Heart.

The temple of the Wheel is old. It is old, and it is forgotten, and it clearly belongs to a bygone era. But it is not abandoned, for the powers that dwelled here are of the nature to always remain. Consequently, you may yet explore its interior.
-You have witnessed its main entrance, as it thrived and twirled with the solidity of a door and the fluidity of a dancer. It is a gate, as solid and immobile as stone, but it is still a Heart-gate, and it will open if you join in its dance. [You may freely enter the Temple of the Wheel if you achieve Heart Level 5]
-You have witnessed its main entrance, as it held and endured with the solidity of a wall and the perseverance of a singer. It is a gate, as solid and immobile as stone, but it is also an exposed, beating heart. You need only jaws wide enough to bite it. [You may freely enter the Temple of the Wheel if you decide to violate it. This is a Regrettable Action.]
-You have witnessed the lesser entrances, for the temple has as many portals as a heart has veins and arteries. And you know it is possible to reach its interior through one of them, but the journey will be perilous. [You have discovered the Mansus-Expedition of the Temple of the Wheel]