Seeds - My entry in the Equestria Daily Summer Fanfic Contest - Editors welcome · 7:02pm Jul 27th, 2014
Well, it’s official. I’m going to submit an entry in the EqD Fanfic Contest. The prompt is:
Write a story about ponies... from a non-pony's point of view.
There’s a Gdocs (comment enabled) link to what I have so far here with a tentative title “Seeds of Future Past” (Hey, if you’re going to throw rocks, you have to at least read it and make comments in the Gdoc!) It's all First Person, Present POV, which is only my second fic to be written this way, so I'll need help.
More below
Anyway, the short descriptions I’m toying around with so far are:
The Tree of Harmony (too short)
The Good Seed (Too hammy)
Long ago, the Tree of Harmony was only a seed. This is its story, from birth to the present. (Too Telly)
All that we know of harmony, started with a single seed. (Too obscure)
Before Equestria
Before the Elements of Harmony
Before Celestia and Luna
Before Discord
There was a seed. (Best I have so far. Still feels a little 20th Century Fox)
Anyway, a teaser of the story is below:
The Title Goes Here
The first thing I feel is magic. It fills my tiny being, energizing every fleck of my newborn shell until I feel ready to burst. The golden light surrounding me comes from a huge white unicorn towering above, her mane more blue than the all-encompassing sky, but not half as blue as her sparkling eyes as they peer closely at my body.
“Yes. It is perfect,” she says, moving slowly with small steps over to a shallow hole. “You, my last creation, shall take my place as I pass on to my final reward. Watch over my little ponies. Protect them, guide them, and above all, love them.”
She stumbles as she approaches the hole, her breathing rough and labored, but her firm grip on my body does not shift. My body touches the bottom of the hole and she scrapes warm soil over me, small splatters of moisture raining down around me from her tears. Her voice is muffled by the fertile earth, but her crying eventually fades, replaced by a warm glow of magic that finally forces me to rupture through my thick skin. Roots plunge into the soil as crystalline sprouts rise into the air, capturing the warmth of sunlight and filling my new sap with life. My roots drink in the sweet nutrients of creation as the sun rises and falls until I have lost count of my lifespan.
Days pass, warm and pleasant things while I grow. My roots touch others, and still others, filling my senses with the dark and humid forest around my new home. The Everfree. It is a knowledge that comes to me through my creator’s magic, and I know that it is good. Harmony exists as far as I can sense, a balance of life and death, light and darkness, plants and animals, and it fills my trunk with joy.
The cold of winter comes, and I bathe in it, the heat of summer sweeps over me, and I rejoice. My roots stretch out far beyond the forest now, touching other strange lands. I see ponies of all three races, striped zebras and feathered griffons. At the waters, I can feel the seaponies dance and sing, and in the mountains, the rumble and growl of dragons and their minions.
It is good, but I am bothered by the distant ponies. They squabble and fight, unwilling to let harmony into their lives, and in that weakness, the cold within their hearts grows. They are a powerful species, and from that power comes the wendigos who sweep across their lands. Harmony falters in their far-away lands, and I feel a tug in my heartwood.
My creator called upon me to watch over her other creations, and as the cold closes in on their homes, I call to them in turn. Three little bands of explorers from three vanishing tribes heed my call, coming to my warm and fertile land, but the cold they created comes with them, and harmony is threatened.
I fret with worry, for although the cold cannot harm me, the wendigos will bring disharmony to the rest of the land and death to my charges. Helpless, I can do nothing but watch as the three tribes struggle in a futile search for warmth. I call again, putting my entire strength into my summons. There must be something out there which can save them, and I can feel a response far away.
And then something miraculous happens.
But the readers will have to go visit the Google Document listed above to see it. (Yes, I’m a troll. Sue me.)
Feedback welcome.
--Georg
So you speak for the tree. For tree has no tongue.
2320537 Come with me if you want to sprout.
2320549
What, you want to show the sprout spout?
Interesting idea. I'm not sure how many such stories will be told from the point of view of plants.
(Which made me wonder if a story about Ponyville, from the point of view of the Library, would be interesting. Perhaps with a twist in the end, when it's revealed that the point of view wasn't that of the library tree, but of the beehive
)
2321408 Ah, a real Hive Mind.
2321511
Well, if magic can make the hive develop a mind, there sure was enough going around after Twilight moved there and started to practice new tricks. Not to mention the magic going around every time Spike sent or received a letter