When I was a colt I always preferred the company of animals rather than other foals. During recess while the other ponies played games together I would sneak out of the schoolyard and down to a nearby creek to catch frogs. After school I could always be found in the backyard stalking the birds and squirrels. Despite my isolationist attitude I did still manage to make friends, albeit none that shared my fascination with animals.
When the time came all of my friends and classmates fell victim to the usual stress about getting their cutie marks. I was the odd exception. I loved everything about tracking down and communing with animals. I was certain my cutie mark would reflect that fact. I was so good at it how could it be anything else?
But it never came.
Instead of being first in my class to get my mark I found myself in the company of the dwindling number of blank-flanks. We were a pretty well adjusted group, a rarity in this day in age, so the teasing about our lack of cutie marks was actually few and far between. I was really my own biggest bully on the matter.
What was I doing wrong? Was it because I hadn’t explored many other options? Did I really need to try a hundred things I didn’t like just to prove that I really liked what I thought I liked? It seemed ridiculous. It wasn’t my mentality that was wrong; it was something wrong with my body. I had to have some kind of magical vitamin deficiency that stunted cutie mark development.
Months passed with no notable changes. My parents did their best to console me on my worst days and encourage me when I needed it. Compared to many blank-flanks I had it pretty easy, but that didn’t make it any less distressing personally. I’d been doing what I loved all along but somehow that hadn’t been good enough for the powers that be.
It all came to a head one day during class. The standard school curriculum assumed that all foals in a class would have their cutie marks by that point in the school year. As part of a standardized test all students were to write an essay on the circumstances under which their cutie marks appeared. It served as both an exercise in self examination for the foals and provided insight for other ponies to help blank-flanks in the future.
The only oversight in this testing process was the effect that it had on blank-flanks currently in the class. It was an utter humiliation. Rather than participate in the essay writing we were ushered into a separate classroom and given meaningless time-filler assignments. We were treated like remedial students with some kind of learning disability.
After the first day of this I’d already had enough. The morning of the second day of testing I did something I had never done before; I skipped school. My parents were too savvy to buy the old faking sick routine, so instead I left for school like usual and went to hide somewhere I knew no one would find me.
I had never known the industrial district of Baltimare to be anything more than a cluster of dilapidated warehouses and factories. According to my parents the city had experienced a boom of industry twenty years before I was born. Earth pony technologies briefly overpowered their magical counterparts and seized control of the manufacture of several major products of the day.
The boom was short lived when it was discovered that the manufacturing processes pioneered by these earth ponies were extremely harmful to the environment. The coal furnaces belched out black smoke that would eventually be linked to the newfound phenomena of acid rain. Chemical runoff from the factories was also identified as a chief culprit in fish mutations in nearby rivers.
As quickly as the factories had risen to power they were then rendered obsolete by magic once more and fell into disuse. The district became a bit of a scar on the city. Many of the buildings were repurposed but a small neighborhood’s worth still remained. It was now a place only frequented by ponies down on their luck.
It was a perfect place for me today.
The only wildlife here was rats and the occasional opossum or raccoon, but that was okay. I wasn’t feeling up to my usual antics anyway. There was a factory near the edge of the district that, from the roof, had a perfect view of one of the major shipping routes out of the city. Pegasi in the air and earth ponies on the ground pulled their cargo chariots laden with goods for towns across Equestria. Something about watching the hustle and bustle without being involved in it was relaxing to me.
I spent the better part of the day on the roof before I saw another pony that wasn’t hauling cargo. The pale blue earth pony mare looked fairly out of place for the neighborhood. From my perch I could see that she appeared to be calling out for someone, though I couldn’t make out whom.
Movement several vacant lots over caught my eye. A little white terrier seemed to have been roused by the earth pony’s yelling and was now scurrying his way under a half rotten wooden fence to avoid being seen. The dog was much too clean looking to be a stray, so I quickly put two and two together.
I had nothing better to do so I gathered up my saddlebag of books and made my way down through the factory. If I could help the mare recapture her runaway dog I would at least have some positive karma defense if my parents found out I had skipped school.
The mare, Sea Mist, was too distraught over her missing dog to really question why a colt my age wasn’t in school at this hour. After gave her a perfect description of her missing Milo she was more than willing to follow me to where I had last seen him. Of course by the time we got there he was long gone. Apparently he’d had a veterinary appointment today that he had no attention of allowing his owner to take him to.
It took nearly an hour to track the terrier through the district. Eventually we cornered the dog in a shipping crate behind an old potion factory. He was too exhausted to put up a fight and Sea Mist was able to easily scoop him into her saddlebags.
The mare was so thrilled to have her dog back that she invited me to come home with her for cookies as a reward. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so I was willing to take the risk of heading back into the city proper for a treat.
In the long run it was one of the best decisions I ever made. Sea Mist, as it turned out, was married to a rather famous television personality. A certain documentarian donkey by the name of Atten Burro. I spent the rest of the day being regaled by his tales of fantastic creatures he’d had the privilege of seeing. By the time I headed home my head was full to bursting with wide-eyed ideas of being a wildlife adventurer.
I woke up the next morning to find I was a blank-flank no longer. My cutie mark had finally appeared. A pair of binoculars with a paw print logo had emblazoned itself on my flank. It no doubt symbolized the events of the day before.
Of course this meant that when I went to school that day I was moved from the remedial class back into the testing group. I had barely just gotten my mark and now I was being forced to analyze it. How had tracking the dog the day before been any different from any other time I’d tracked down an animal?
Sea Mist.
Even though I’d had somewhat selfish reasons for it, essentially I had been tracking the dog for her, not myself. Maybe the purpose of my special ability was to make others happy, not just to amuse myself. Atten Burro made a career of bringing ponies happiness by showing them animals they would normally never see. Why couldn’t I do the same?
Why couldn’t I have been great like him?
Why did I let him down?
I awoke on my hooves and promptly toppled over as Nightmare Moon pulled the tip of her horn back from my forehead. I couldn’t remember her touching me with it in the first place. Judging by the nagging feeling of violation in the back of my mind she must have performed some kind of forced memory spell.
“Oh come now, it could not have been that taxing.” She chided, offering her body to lean against as I got back to my hooves.
I rejected her offer and wobbled back into a standing position on my own.
“What the hell was that?” I hissed, shaking my head as if I could dislodge the figurative hoof prints I felt on my mind. The real Princess Luna’s intrusion into my memories had been much gentler.
“Perspective.” The alicorn responded as nonchalantly as if I’d asked the time. “The truth means nothing if you do not have the proper perspective to understand it.”
The truth? Hah. It seemed like everypony I’d met in the past two days wanted to tell me the truth. The word was starting to lose its meaning with me.
“And what truth would that be?” My voice dripped with sarcasm.
“You yourself had to acknowledge that the purpose of your special talent is to help other ponies. That is to say, without other ponies your life ultimately serves no purpose.”
I narrowed my eyes. “By that logic what purpose does any pony’s life serve? A farmer grows crops for themselves first, and then sells the rest to other ponies. A tailor makes clothes for themselves first, then moves on to making clothes for other ponies. I track animals for my own enjoyment first, and then share them with other ponies for their enjoyment.”
“Ah, but you speak of such general talents. If a farmer’s crops fail there are ten more to take his place in the market and no pony goes hungry. If a tailor botches a dress then somepony doesn’t get to go to the gala, but no pony is hurt. You failed in your purpose and ponies died. Tell me, was the risk worth it?”
Her words stung me and I could see she knew it. I refused to dignify the alicorn with a response as she trotted a circle around me, wings outstretched just above my head.
“The colt may not be your normal tracking fare, but in essence you are trying to do what you always do. You’ll track him down and lead his mother to him. A tearful reunion ensues and everyone is happy.”
“That’s not it!” I lost my composure for a moment and swatted her wing away from me. “The forest somehow compelled me to take Bookmark to it. Something you probably had a hoof in. I’m just undoing my mistake!”
“And how do you know that you took the colt?” Nightmare Moon scooped me in close with the wing I had swatted away. “You know because of the story Golden Prose herself penned. The forest didn’t compel you to take him, she did! Why would she do that? “
I didn’t have an answer.
“Even under the influence of the Dark Presence a spirit as strong as hers would refuse to put her son in harm’s way against her will. Do you not agree?”
I nodded, my head grazing against her wing.
“Does it not seem like a perfect way to blackmail some pony into helping her? A way to ensnare a pony who is already seeking redemption?”
Knowing of my past, it was plausible that Golden Prose may have been able to guess my particular vulnerability. That still didn’t explain her motivation.
“Why me then?”
The alicorn smiled and dropped to sit on her haunches.
“As I am sure my counterpart told you the power of the Everfree Forest lies in its ability to grant life to the works of art created there. She may even have mentioned that said works of art do not always turn out how the creator had in mind…”
That was certainly an understatement.
“The presence there cannot create on its own; it can only modify the works of other artists. Without an artist it is powerless, so when it gets a hold on one why would it ever let go? “
I could see where she was going with this.
“I’m no artist. I’ve never written a story or drawn a decent picture in my life. You’re implying she was hoping to trick me into being her replacement after she got what she wanted from the forest. That’s asinine. And it still doesn’t explain why she would’ve gotten her colt involved.”
“But you were troubled and weak when she first saw you. A perfect candidate for manipulation. This is her story; she could mold you into anything she needed you to be. What does it matter why she had you bring her colt to the forest? The fact is she used you for her own gain. The only question is what you choose to do about it.”
I couldn’t argue that fact. Golden Prose had put me in harm’s way by writing me into her story. Something hadn’t gone how she planned and now she was counting on my guilt to help make things right. It would just be so easy to believe that…
I sat on my haunches, still tucked against the alicorn’s body. My posture sagged and my indignation at being held in such a way began to wane. Some part of me wanted so badly to believe what she was telling me.
“You are not powerless, Mossy Hooves…” She purred in my ear seductively. “In fact you hold more power than you realize. The ending to the story has not yet been written. The author needs your help to bring her colt out of the forest… you can make her create an ending that serves you well. She used you; it is only fair that you get something in return…”
A chill ran down my spine and settled as a cold lump in the pit of my stomach. Nightmare Moon was right. I could make Golden Prose write any kind of ending I wanted. The power of the Everfree Forest was in my hooves without the risk of being trapped by it. I could have anything I wanted. I could even…
“Hayseed Swamp…” I whispered.
The alicorn closed her eyes and sighed pleasantly, seeming to savor the gravity of my realization.
“Now you see, my dear stallion.”
I pushed free from the alicorn’s wing and moved to sit face to face with her. I wanted to look her in the eyes.
“Why… why would you tell me this?”
Nightmare Moon smiled and held a hoof to my chest.
“I only want to see you happy…”
My chest tingled where she touched me. It rapidly evolved into an uncomfortable warmth that spread outward to my limbs. My heart raced and I found myself unable to break my gaze from the alicorn’s eyes.
Her eyes had become piercing beacons of white light that burned into me, yet I couldn’t look away. Instead I found myself draw into them. The white light surrounded me, blinding me.
Then I was back.
I was on my back on the dirt floor of the cellar staring up blankly at the single incandescent bulb glowing overhead. Around me were the faces of Vinyl Scratch, Ironbars, and Golden Prose. They all wore looks of concern.
I tipped my head down to my chest and let out a sharp cry of panic. There was a needle sticking through one of the burn holes in my vest. It looked like an EpiPen, but it might as well have been a giant hornet the way I slapped it away from me.
“Mossy, are you alright?” Golden Prose was the first to find her words as I scrambled unsteadily into a sitting position. The adrenaline was still coursing through my system and I felt a bit unwell.
“I… I don’t know. What the hell happened?”
“The power never came back on so we came out to check on you. You were just laying here in the dark with your spotlight off.”
“Ironbars was going to shoot you in case you were turning into one of those shadow ponies, but we didn’t let him.” Vinyl Scratch chimed in. “We couldn’t get you to wake up even when we got the lights on, so I grabbed that shot out of the station’s first aid kit.”
She sounded pretty proud of the fact that she’d stabbed me in the chest with a needle. Somehow that didn’t surprise me. What bothered me more was the fact that the light itself had failed to rouse me from whatever trance I had been in. This was my second prolonged exposure to the Dark Presence and this time the princess hadn’t been there to safeguard me.
“Ahm still nawt sure we ought ta trust him.” Ironbars regarded me carefully even though we were safely in the light. “He was in the dahkness for a long time. He might turn inna one o’ those things tha moment the lights go out again.”
The darkness. Nightmare Moon. Crawling around me like some kind of slimy succubus. Had it all really happened?
I went from feeling unwell to downright sick to my stomach. Without my spotlight I bolted up the cellar stairs and into the backyard. The others followed in hot pursuit. In the dry grass outside the station I parted company with the contents of my stomach for the second time in as many days.