//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: The Spike Poem Anthology // by Zephyr Spark //------------------------------// Twilight looked through her library books, hoping she might find one book she had not read in the last five months. She already knew she read most of these books twice, but she held out hope that some book could entertain her. The sun cast shadows through her castle windows as it set. Her head thrummed as she glanced through several titles. After picking out three novels, she headed to the living room. She set her books down on a table when she noticed a brown covered journal on the countertop. Curious, she picked it up and opened the cover. She recognized Spike’s handwriting before she read the title “The Spike Poem Anthology.” “Is this what you’ve been doing while I was away?” Twilight murmured with amusement. She tried to put the book down. This was Spike’s property after all. She had no right to look at it unless he let her. Even as she said this, temptation got the better of her and she flipped to the first page. Rainbow Dash considered knocking on the door for a moment. She really did. But she could fly in whenever she wanted. And she wanted to fly in. Twilight had the next Daring Doo book and Dash wasn’t waiting another second. In her defense, Twilight had only herself to blame for leaving the window open. She spread her wings and soared through the air into an open window. “Twilight!” She yelled. She zoomed through the castle and yelled, “Hey, Twilight! I’m here for the next Daring Doo Book. Where are you?” Dash found Twilight in the living room. She was about to call her name when she noticed tears rolling down Twilight’s face. She seemed invested in a small journal in front of her. Dash took a tentative step towards her. “Twilight,” she said, “Are you okay?” Twilight looked up and wiped her eyes. A smile plastered her face. “I’m fine, Dash.” She said. “I was just reading some poetry Spike wrote about me.” “Uh neat,” Dash said. “So any chance I could get the next Daring Doo Book?” “Wait, you’ve got to read this one poem—” “No offense,” Dash said, “but I’m not really into poetry.” “Spike wrote about you.” Dash blinked. “He wrote about me?” She shuffled her hooves, “No pony’s ever written poems about me before.” Whether by word of mouth or quick talk, soon almost every pony who was a subject of Spike’s poems gathered in the castle. Even Discord showed up to read his poem. Twilight could have sworn he was fighting back a tear just at the thought of being included. She let tears fall down her face without shame. She couldn’t believe Spike wrote more poems about her than Rarity, than anyone else. He put her on a pedestal so high she couldn’t see where it ended. As she passed around the journal, she noticed Rarity’s eyes lighting with stars as she read Spike’s poem. Pinkie Pie tried putting her poem to music. Twilight cast a spell to mute her kazoo and saxophone to everyone else. Fluttershy would not stop sniffling, long after the journal past her. “Spike thinks I’m faster than a comet,” Dash smirked. “He thinks I’m the rock all of Ponyville sits on,” Applejack grinned. “I ain’t no poet but that’s a compliment if I ever saw one.” Starlight began crying, “I didn’t know how much I needed that.” She wiped her eyes and smiled as she passed the book to Twilight. “So when do we get to my poem?” Discord said. He folded his arms and looked away, “Not that I’m interested or anything. I’m just curious.” “We’ll get there,” Twilight said. “First, the CMC get to read their poems.” “Spike wrote about us?” Applebloom asked. She passed the journal to the yellow filly who seized the page and read as Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle crowded over her shoulders. “So where is Spike right now?” Applejack asked. “He went to Canterlot,” Twilight said. “He had some duties to attend to.” “Well, when he gets back I’ll fix him a nice mug of apple cider,” the earth pony grinned. “I’m sure Big Mac would love to watch a Hoof Ball Game with him.” She turned to her brother who nodded. “I’m taking him flying,” Dash said. “I just want to hug him and never let go,” Fluttershy smiled. “I call dibs,” Sweetie belted out. “Any guy who calls me a song that makes life beautiful is getting a hug.” “Yes, that’s all very good,” Discord said. “Can I read my poem now?” “I thought you didn’t care?” Dash elbowed his side teasingly. “As if I’d care what someone else wrote about me,” Discord rolled his eyes. “I just want to see what Twilight’s number one butler considers poetry.” “Hang on it’s Big Mac’s turn,” Twilight said. Rarity was unusually silent. Her white face flushed crimson. “Eeyup,” Big Mac smiled before passing the journal to Discord. He glanced at the journal with an uninterested glance. “Well, if I must,” he said snatching up the journal. Glasses materialized on the tip of his snout. A cushioned chair appeared behind him. Discord wore a red bathrobe initialed D. To complete the scene, he blew bubbles from a pipe in his mouth. “When that sucker gets home, he’s getting the biggest party he’s ever seen!” Pinkie Pie belted. “Once I work out this didgeridoo solo.” With that, the pink pony pulled a meter long cylindrical wooden pipe from her mane and began piping. “Are you sure that’s not a weapon?” Scootaloo eyed the long stick. “What? You’ve never seen a didgeridoo?” Pinkie Pie raised an eyebrow. The orange filly shook her head. “Come one, Scoots. Every pony knows about the didgeridoo. I’ve got to play Spike some didgeridoo. Nothing but the best for my family.” “It sure is an eye opener,” Starlight changed the conversation subject, “seeing just how much Spike considers us family.” “Yeah,” Twilight said. “Poetry reveals what’s really in our hearts. So all of this is coming from a real place of feeling.” “Wow,” Discord said. He was definitely tearing up as he read the last words. He pursed his lips and inhaled through his nostrils, sucking back his tears. “I didn’t know he cared so much.” After a moment, Discord rose from his chair, “Alright, I’m poofing Spike back right now. He’s getting chocolate rain clouds.” “But I haven’t finished practicing my didgeridoo solo,” Pinkie pouted. Discord snapped his fingers and a white light appeared in the center of the room. When it faded, a very confused baby dragon stood in the center of the room. His scales glistened with water, a shower cap on his head and a towel wrapped around his waist as he held a cordless hairdryer. One look around and he turned a bright red, before rushing upstairs and slamming a door. His friends averted their gaze from the place he emerged. Discord shrugged sheepishly as Twilight cast him an admonishing stare. Rarity tapped a hoof on the floor as her eyes darted around the room and she hummed a soft song. Sweetie Belle had a crimson blush on her cheeks and kept staring where Spike had left. The rest of them endured the long, uncomfortable silence. Ten minutes later, Spike returned downstairs. His shower cap and bath robe were gone and his scales had dried. He put his hands on his hips and frowned. “Alright,” he said, “who decided to poof me away from Canterlot in the middle of a shower?” He looked at Pinkie Pie honking on a meter long stick. He blinked and said, “I’m not even going to ask.” Before Twilight could say a word, he noticed his brown journal lying in the center of the room. Spike looked from the journal to Twilight, his eyes widening. “Oh no,” he groaned, “You didn’t read that, did you? I was saving it for our anniversary.” “Anniversary?” Twilight said, “What are you talking about?” “Four years in Ponyville.” Spike shook his head. “Now what am I going to do?” “Wait, if you wanted this to be a surprise, why did you leave it out in the open?” “I was still working on it.” Spike shrugged, “I guess I forgot to pack it before I went to Canterlot. Well, did you like them anyways?” Twilight walked up the stairs to Spike. She opened her mouth to say yes, that they were the most wonderful, thoughtful things he ever made for her. But that didn’t seem adequate. Words just couldn’t suffice. She squeezed him in a hug. Spike stiffened in surprise before smiling and hugging her back. “Hope you aren’t going to hog him all day,” Sweetie Belle grumbled. Rarity shot her a chiding glance. Spike blinked in Sweetie’s direction at them and broke away from Twilight. He noticed the ponies who were subjects of his poems had gathered in the castle, even Discord. Each of them looked at him with warm smiles. “Wait, did everyone read the poems?” He asked. Several nodding heads confirmed his suspicions. He glanced at Rarity who fiddled with her hooves and looked away. A magic ripped him from the floor into disproportioned arms that held him in place and noogied him with a chuckle. “Discord, I can’t breathe,” Spike gasped. The spirit of chaos dropped him to the floor. A white filly pounced on him pressing her face against his cheek. “Thanks for writing a poem all about me, Spikey,” Sweetie cooed. Each of his friends said their thanks to Spike in their own ways. This included more hugs from Starlight and Fluttershy, pats on the shoulders from Applejack, tossing him into the air in Dash’s case, a polite nod from Big Mac, a deep bumblebee buzzing from Pinkie Pie’s stick pipe, and a kiss on the cheek from Rarity. Spike blushed. He wasn’t used to being at the center of attention, but he sure enjoyed when he was. When the revelry finally simmered down, Twilight approached him with the journal in hand. “I did have one question,” Twilight said, “Who were you pretending to be when you wrote your last poem?” “You mean ‘Proverbs of Spike’?” “No,” Twilight flipped open the journal to the last poem. “I meant in ‘My Poem to Spike.’” Spike narrowed his eyes, “Wait, let me see that.” He plucked the journal from her magic and looked at the page. “‘My Poem to Spike?’ I didn’t write this.” Twilight frowned, “But it was in your journal.” “I’ve never seen this before,” Spike said. “The last poem I wrote was ‘Proverbs of Spike.’ Whoever wrote this, it wasn’t me.” The others gathered around with interest. Spike flipped to the last page and found a name, “Who is Zephyr Spark?” “You don’t know him?” Twilight asked. Spike shook his head. “Are you sure?” “Positive,” Spike said. “Let me see that a moment,” Discord picked up the journal. He snapped his fingers and materialized a lab coat and spectacles. He placed the pages under a microscope and peered through the lenses. “What do you see?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Nothing, the lens cap is still on,” He said before bending down and plucking off a bottle cap from the viewing lens. He put a finger in the center of the cap and drew out a bottle of soda from the bottle cap. “Now where will I put this bottle cap?” He mused before popping off the cap to the floor and guzzling down the soda. Fluttershy gave him a single look. “Yes, I know. I’ll pick up.” Discord snapped his fingers materialized a trash can and dumped the bottle and cap before turning back to the microscope. “Now let’s see.” He made several loud hmms and scratched his chin. If he found something interesting, he would not say a word about it. Twilight was sure he wanted to keep everyone in suspense. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her vexed. “Well, I’m stumped,” he said at last before throwing his microscope out the window. They heard clunks from outside accompanied by a screeching cat and Fluttershy pouted once again at Discord. The spirit of chaos shrunk a bit and apologized. He turned to Twilight, “Whoever wrote this didn’t come from this world.” “What do you mean?” Rarity said. “I’m pretty sure this is the only world,” Starlight said. “Not exactly,” Twilight said. Starlight glanced at her quizzically. Twilight shrugged, “It’s a long story.” “I can’t pinpoint where exactly this came from,” Discord said. “But it’s not a world I’m familiar with. Whoever wrote this must have intended it for Spike.” “Oh, I know,” Pinkie Pie raised her hoof. “It was probably that world full of those things Lyra’s always talking about! I see them all the time.” “Well, whoever Zephyr Spark is,” Twilight said, “He really admires you, Spike. He poured his heart and soul into this.” “Can I read it?” Spike asked. Discord handed him the journal and Spike read. His lips began to tremble. “I don’t know what a lot of this means, but,” he smiled, “I feel like I know him.” He lingered on the final words. Silence filled the room. After a good five minutes, Spike spoke. “I’ve got to write more poems.” He grabbed a pen, “Maybe he’ll send me another message. Or maybe we can meet face to face.”