One Hundred Fifty · 6:46pm Mar 11th, 2017
IN WHICH I PRESENT A STORY
Or rather, a snippet of story. As I promised in RR:CXLIX, I'm using this milestone blogpost to post a piece of writing I created a little under two years ago and never published, as it is attached thematically to my unfinished Pinkamena fic.
Before I actually hit the "Read More" button, I want to thank everyone who has taken the time over the last 24 months to read my blogposts. Even if they are the boring yet insane ramblings of a maladjusted guy, I appreciate every one of you who's stuck with me. I also want to welcome the new followers I've somehow acquired over the past week -- Welcome to my Asylum; hope you enjoy the ride. Now, without further ado, an unfinished story…
This is from Part VI of "P.D.P", and represents the only section of it I actually wrote. It is also completely unedited (though I have reformatted it for this blogpost). My original plan -- I think -- was that it would take place after the battle against the Tarpanites, but in my synopsis I made it happen before, which I think was a better move. As a result, there is a massive continuity error regarding timeframe, but let's let that slide. In my files, this snippet is called…
MAUD PIE VS TWILIGHT SPARKLE
Twilight slowly made her way around the main floor of the library, methodically scanning over the shelves of books to see whether she ought to reorganize them again this week using another new sorting system. Normally, she would have Spike handle this, but after the fifth complete overhaul in as many months, he had finally had enough and declared he would be on strike until further notice and decamped for Carousel Boutique – the only place he could expect a bed that did not smell of animal fluids. Twilight had complained to the mayor and Celestia, but both sided with the understandably put out dragon and allowed him his vacation.
As Twilight prepared to levitate every single book in the room into a giant pile in the middle of the floor – this time she would sort them by print date – her concentration was broken by what she thought was some sort of sound outside… a perceptible crackling. Before she could return to her frivolous work, her front door was suddenly blown off its hinges and hurtled straight back… right towards her, missing her head by inches.
Recovering from that shock as quickly as she could, Twilight assumed her battle stance, only to find herself face to face with Maud Pie, who stood in the doorway against the backdrop of rain and gloom, yet was completely dry. She slowly blinked as she stared at Twilight.
“Oh. Hi Maud,” Twilight said as pleasantly as she could (which wasn’t very). “What ar–”
Before Twilight finished her sentence, Maud invited herself in, crossing the threshold. Her face, as usual, showed absolutely no emotion whatsoever, but Twilight could feel the atmosphere growing heavier with each step Maud took toward her, to the point that she found breathing a challenge. She recalled something Pinkamena had told her a couple weeks earlier – that true Earthpony magic was a nearly lost art, and only two ponies who could reasonably be called masters were known to exist… and Pinkamena herself was the less powerful of the two.
After an interminable few seconds, Maud stood just two feet away from Twilight, who had begun to sweat involuntarily from her presence. She had met Maud several times at this point with no ill effects, so why was today different?
Before Twilight could say anything, Maud spoke. It was her usual monotone, but there was an intimidating forthrightness behind it. “What did you do.”
This declarative question caught Twilight slightly off guard. “Huh?” she asked.
Maud slowly inhaled and exhaled, which Twilight felt made the pressure around her grow even more oppressive. Maud jerked her head, flicking an imperceptibly small pebble toward one of the shelves… whereupon it seemingly exploded, sending books flying.
“Uh, Maud? I-I don’t mind you coming to visit my library, but you can’t ju—”
“I’ll ask again: What. Did. You. Do,” Maud reiterated. Twilight thought she heard some slight emotion in Maud’s voice. A flick of Maud’s tail sent the horse head statue in the middle of the room careening toward the wall; it hit snout-first and embedded itself halfway.
It was at this point that Twilight noticed her floor was now pockmarked with several hoof shaped craters leading from the front door to where Maud stood, face as stone as the minerals she loved, completely unreadable to all but her little sister.
Twilight frantically searched her mental database for a moment as Maud stared at her. What DID I do?, she thought. Maud has no reason to be upset with me. If I had done anything, I’m sure Pinkamena would have told m—
Oh.
Uh-oh.
“I, uh, guess you’ve been to see your sister, huh?” Twilight said tentatively.
“Do you have any siblings, Twilight Sparkle?” Maud asked.
“Uh, yes. I have an older brother.”
“How do you think he would react if anything happened to you? If somepony had done something to you?”
“Well, I suppose he’d be upset and would go… after… the pony responsible if he…” Twilight did not like where this was heading.
“Twilight Sparkle, I love my sister very much. In many ways, she’s all I have in the world. My one wish for her has always been that she find happiness.”
“Uh-huh…?” Twilight’s eyes darted back and forth, desperately searching for an escape that did not exist.
“This world denied her that for most of her life. At least until she moved to Ponyville,” Maud droned.
“Y-yes, I know. She told me everything,” Twilight said, attempting to save face.
“It’s been nine years since I’ve seen her in such a state,” Maud said, allowing the slightest bit of emotion into her voice. “I’d hoped I would never see her like that again.”
Twilight furrowed her brow, unsure of how to respond. “…and…?”
“For her mane to have gone straight, and her speech to sound like mine, her core must have been shattered completely. She refused to tell me what happened, but it was not difficult to infer she was betrayed by a pony she trusted. It’s unlikely any of the other four could have done so – they are all far too honest or simpleminded – so I ask one more time: What… did you say… to my sister?”
Twilight sighed. “Maud, could you follow me up to the loft? Explaining will take some time, and I’d rather not do it in such a public place. And, uh, please don’t damage any more of the library; Princess Celestia’s already threatened to cut off my stipend for all the times it’s had to be fixed.”
Maud slowly moved her head, taking note of the destroyed bookshelves. She blinked, evidently in surprise. “Oh. That was unexpected,” she said flatly.
In the loft – originally the foals’ reading room, now Twilight’s bedroom – Twilight led Maud over to a small stump of wood next to the wall that functioned as her breakfast table. A couple of cushions, souvenirs from Canterlot, flanked it. She beckoned Maud take a seat, which she did. She fired off a quick spell at the lamp in the middle of the table – normally unnecessary during daylight, but needed this day due to the poor weather – to light it as she sat herself opposite Maud.
Twilight sighed, hanging her head slightly. “Maud, you’re right. I’m the one who brought back Pinkamena. I… honestly thought I was doing the right thing.”
“She told you her story?” Maud asked.
“Everything. Or close to it. That’s why I felt like I needed to help her. Neither of us expected her… ‘Pinkie’ personality would be sacrificed.”
Maud blinked. “Memories are a powerful thing, Twilight Sparkle,” she said. “My sister chose to forget, and used that to build a new happier life for herself. Your actions forced her to remember.”
“She was already starting to remember,” Twilight explained. “We actually tried to make her memory loss permanent, but ended up ‘fixing’ her instead.”
“You opened up some terrible wounds,” Maud deadpanned.
“I’m sorry,” said Twilight.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” countered Maud.
“But I…”
“You’re not sorry at all. No one is. Every one of you found her annoying to be around for more than ten minutes,” stated Maud matter of factly.
Twilight gulped. Maud was right. They both knew it. Maud’s face showed no emotion, but the space around her was starting to feel warped.
What IS she?? Twilight screamed internally.
Maud reached into… nothingness, apparently… and pulled out a letter, yellowed from age. She handed it to Twilight.
It was addressed to Maud at the University of Koniksberg, dated just over five years earlier. The first thing Twilight noticed about the letter was that it was stained with tears. She also recognized the penmanship.
This is gonna hurt, Twilight thought.
Maud,
I can’t take it anymore. Except for you, everyone who ever cared about me is now dead. All of my research, all of my work, has been declared heresy and banned. It’s only a matter of time before either the Learnèd Ones or the Clayhoofs find me. Honestly, I don’t know which would be worse. What am I saying? I’d rather face Celestia than my “husband” and his family. In addition, my Cutie Mark Failure Syndrome is worsening by the day. These balloons evidently mean I’m supposed to make ponies happy, but parties only led to more pain, and pushing the bounds of knowledge to improve their lives didn’t work either.
I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I’ve decided the only way for me to avoid killing myself is to forget everything. In the old Castle in the middle of the Everfree Forest, I found a secret room full of arcane books from before the War. I doubt even the Restricted Section of Canterlot’s Royal Library has these. One book showed a technique whereby disturbing a specific part of the brain could block or possibly destroy memories. Far more effective and permanent than a Unicorn’s spell. I’m going to try it.
Unfortunately, I have a feeling this technique is non-discriminatory, meaning I really will forget everything. Thus, I have written myself a letter to teach me about the few things from my old life worth remembering – my name, age, and you. Ponyville is the nearest town to my cabin, so I’ll probably settle down there.
If this works, when you see me again, I will be a completely different pony. What I ask of you is that you take it in stride. Pretend that, whatever I become, I have always been. Never let on that you know more than that. If gaps in my memory must be filled, do so in a way that avoids my past traumas. I’m sure this will be hard for you, and for that I’m sorry. No doubt you’ll miss me, but I won’t know any difference.
I love you so much. That at least I’m certain will never change.
—PinkamenaTwilight stared at the letter, vision blurring. She tried to speak, but the words refused to form.
“I think you understand now,” Maud said.
“How… were you able to do it? To live with this for so long? To have your own sister be a complete stranger?” Twilight asked with a hint of awe in her voice.
“I just did,” replied Maud bluntly.
“It must have been awful for you.”
“Not having her at all would have been worse.”
“Maud, how can you say that? To have the one you care for most be physically there yet not mentally seems like it would be much harder on you than her being dead. After all, the dead aren’t around to remind you of what you lost,” reasoned Twilight.
“Her newfound joy made up for everything. To see her smile, to see her excited and content with her life, that was all I ever wanted for her; that’s all that mattered. Of course, every so often, I would see a glint in her eye, the same one I often saw when we were out in the field together. Proof enough that, personality swap aside, her core self never changed,” Maud explained.
Twilight sat on the large circular rug in the middle of the room, scratching her chin, trying to reconcile her thoughts. After a couple of minutes that felt like hours, she spoke.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
Maud sighed, eyes closed (or was it an abnormally slow blink? hard to tell with her). “Help her. Be her friend. Remind her she has value.”
“But she already knows all that,” countered Twilight.
“She ‘knows’ it in an academic sense, but she doesn’t appreciate it. To be honest, I’m not sure she can. Cutie Mark Failure Syndrome is a terrible affliction,” Maud said dully.
“Look Maud,” Twilight said matter-of-factly, “Do you really have that little faith in me? Do you honestly believe I’m so conceited that I can’t see your sister is suffering? You’re only here a couple times a year, if that. I’m here every day; I see her almost every day. When she’s having a hard time, I or one of our friends tries to cheer her up. Rarity (of all ponies) has taken it upon herself to help get Pinkamena back into party planning.”
I also wrote a few lines that I guess would be later in the story or something. It's a bit unconnected, but I figure it's worth sharing anyway.
“About that…” Twilight said, “In all my years of studying magic at the Academy, I never once heard of a situation where a pony’s cutie mark is a source of pain for them. Even after travelling around Equestria with Pinkie and the others spreading the message of Friendship, it’s never come up with any pony we met. You’ve travelled extensively. Have you seen other cases besides your sister?”
Maud closed her eyes, dipped her head, and let out a long sigh. “Yes,” she finally said. “It’s not a common problem, but it does happen. In any town of Ponyville’s size, there are bound to be at least two or three cases. My own observation – what I remember, since most of my field notes are about rocks – is that rates are higher in the Equestrian hinterlands than here in the heart of the country.”
“I… guess that makes sense,” Twilight reluctantly concluded. “There are fewer opportunities away from the major population centres.
And that's it. Thanks for reading this far. Next post will be one of three things – more random ramblings (most likely), author's notes if I manage to actually finish something within the week (least likely), or me promoting the hell out of a story that isn't mine called Heavy Rock if it goes public.
I rather liked the snippet of the story. Thanks for sharing it with us, Soufriere.
WOW man, this is strong. I can see the challenge of bringing it in line with post-S4 canon, but who cares? It's a great chunk of a story regardless.
4455466 - That, my friend, is why the "A.U." tag is such a godsend.
The file info says I wrote this in June 2015 – after I had already written the first "Burrito" story (Sunset's) and Highs & Lows. It's the only part of "P.D.P" I wrote post-2014.
This is a strong snippet that I enjoyed writing. I think my Babs Seed story might be even stronger, as it at least functions as a full narrative. Unfortunately, I can't publish that one because of how it's so connected with "P.D.P". And I can't easily put more of it in blog form than I already have -- it's 8,600 words on its own (longer than Reconciliations if you ignore the Pinkamena chapter).
4455233 - Fine. You've managed to convince me to give my first MLP fic another chance. Congratulations. But it's going to take a lot of work on my part to get Parts II and III to a point where they don't suck. Maybe if I don't fail at this fic again, I can finally gain the confidence to write the epic conclusion to my Sunset stories.
4452005 - You're very welcome. Given my slow writing pace, y'all deserve something for putting up with me.