//------------------------------// // 13. Comic Reunions // Story: Dear Small Pony Book // by Carapace //------------------------------// Dear Small Pony Book, I am writing to you today in my third castle in less than a week. This time, we are staying in Ponyville—specifically, in Princess Twilight Sparkle’s splendorous crystal castle situated just on the outskirts of town. Friendship Castle, as they call it. Quite fitting, I should think. Though I did have some question regarding the strange design. It wasn’t my place to give voice to such a question, so I reserved it for you alone, Small Pony Book. I trust you’ll follow the course of silence. What in the first Mother’s name would possess ponies to fashion a castle made entirely of crystal into the shape of a tree, of all things? It hardly seemed fitting for royalty, ascended or not. Furthermore, how would one even defend it? It hardly seemed strategic. While I wasn’t one with much of a talent for architecture, there was something to be said about the similarities between the hive and pony castles, like Canterlot Castle. Those buildings were meant to be great labyrinths to outsiders, while those within knew all the routes, and riddled with narrow passageways so the invaders were forced to approach important areas or ambush zone in single file line. Morbid though it may sound, it was a cunning strategy. Get your enemies to come at you one at a time, then just pick them off at leisure. Defense strategy basics. Actually, that brought me to another question: where in Equestria were her guards? Surely, Princesses Celestia and Luna wouldn’t allow her to go unprotected! She was the former’s, ah, former student, after all. And, really, I doubted Cadence and Shining would stand for that either. Again, it wasn’t my place. I had more pressing matters to attend to anyway. Namely, I had time to be spent with my best friend, and I fully intended to savor every second of it. We began with a quick tour of Friendship Castle. “This place is a lot bigger than it looks!” Spike assured me as he guided me out of the guest room they’d prepared for me. Mine was directly across from Sunburst’s, and two doors down from my hosts’. A bright smile spread across the little dragon’s chubby cheeks. “The girls and I still get lost sometimes. Starlight, especially, because a lot of the doors look so alike. And there’s just so many rooms, y’know?” I bobbed my head in agreement. That, I could sympathize with him quite readily. Pony dwellings were notoriously confusion, quite unlike a changeling hive. So many doors, all of them the same size, shape, and color, none of them ever changing or altering, even the hallways were maddeningly static. Ever-changing or not, we changelings possessed a deep connection to our home. Getting lost was never an issue, even for our youngest hatchlings. Why would it be? As I told you before, Small Pony Book, the hive is very much alive. Still, I kept it to myself. Confusing or not, my friends’ home was quite lovely. And homey, despite its size. The ceilings were tall and came together in a pointed oval-like shape which glittered in the midday sun, which shone through twinkling windows. Purple carpets lined the floors, soft and warm beneath my chitinous hooves. Something I would have much appreciated during the recent winter. It might have spared me the Winter Spirits’ terrible breath upon my neck, and thus my sickness. I maintain that they are terrible and that I hope the First Mother sank her fangs into them. He showed me everything. The kitchen, Twilight’s cozy little room and seemingly gigantic study packed to the brim with bookshelves and texts thick enough to brain a pony. Starlight’s room was just down the hall and, rather oddly enough, was home to several kites of varying size, color, and shape. Then, of course, there was the library. I had to chitter to myself for ever thinking the study could be considered such a vast forest of books. This library … Now, this was a place a changeling could truly lose themselves. Whether in the maze of bookshelves, each of them tall and made of solid crystal and filled with more of those texts thick enough to be called a weapon, their spines a literal rainbow of colors, or in one of the many, many books themselves, I wasn’t entirely certain. Ponies could say what they wished about my hive and race, but one thing none could ever claim was that we didn’t love a good story. Why shouldn’t we? The written word was the greatest form of love, after all! Why else would one share such lovely visions with those who didn’t possess similar imagination or devotion to the craft? Things I’m willing to bet most take for granted—no doubt because they can’t taste the lingering love in every word. “Impressive,” I praised with a small smile. I turned over my shoulder to glance at my young friend, who had taken up residence on my back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a library so big.” Spike beamed, his slitted emerald eyes shone with pride. “Other than the Royal Archives and Royal Canterlot University, Twilight and I have put together the biggest library in all of Central Equestria. Not bad, considering the old library was lacking so much, even before it was burned down.” He winced a bit as he finished, a result of bad memories, no doubt. On that, I could most certainly sympathize with him. Though nymphhood was not a particularly happy time in my life, I did have a few fond memories here and there. Most involved Libulella or Pharynx. But this was hardly the time for dwelling. My smile broadening, I waggled my earfins. “Well,” I said, “I think you’ve both done a wonderful job. The library and castle itself are quite lovely. It reminds me a lot of home.” Spike perked right up. “Oh, yeah! I bet it does, since they’re both crystal and all.” He paused a moment in thought before his earfins twitched and eyes went wide. “I almost forgot!” My friend fixed me with a hopeful smile, like Flurry Heart begging for sweets. “Do you wanna see my room?” I confess that it was no small effort on my part not to buzz my wings giddily. “Sure! I’d be happy to see it!” With a bright grin, Spike hopped down from his perch with a clickety-clack of his claws against the crystalline floor. Carefully, I noticed, so he didn’t drop the comics I’d gifted him. “All right, then! Follow me!” Again, we headed down the long crystal hallways, back toward Starlight and Twilight’s rooms. There was some level of confusion, I’ll admit, as to why this didn’t take place when he’d shown off this wing of the castle. It would’ve been far more convenient. Unless, I thought as we drew near to a tall wooden door with a purple and green placard bearing Spike’s name, this was a part of some grand reveal. In which case, it was only good manners that I await it patiently. We changelings do have a bit of a love for such theatrics, Small Pony Book, but don’t worry. I know you’re young and shy. I’ve done my best to tone it down around you. I digress. Spike twisted the knob and pushed the door open, then gestured for me to enter first. I did so with a grateful nod in his direction, my teal eyes wide and ready to take in every detail of my friend’s lodgings. By comparison to Twilight’s room, there were many similarities I noticed. First and foremost, his room was … well, as I said with Twilight’s, it was quite cozy—not so small that one might get claustrophobic, yet also not so big that it ever felt like one was alone. The walls were a deep purple crystal, a tall window with purple and green drapes drawn stood on the opposite side of the room. On the side to my left was his bed, fitted with matching covers and pillows. There was a small wooden desk with one of those little half-circle chairs with the cushions—the ones that look almost like a bird’s nest—to my right, and next to that, a pair of wooden bookshelves of medium height. One of those bookshelves was filled with normal books, novels of some sort, I imagined, if the titles displayed on the colorful spines were any indication. The other held what could only be his comic collection. Spike padded over to his desk and laid his comics at the very center. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that everything had been placed in pristine order—from the cup of pens, to the trio of pencils resting on the right beside a notebook, and, now, the stack of comics. “So,” he said, “what do you think?” I spared another look around the room, a fond smile playing upon my lips. “I think it’s great.” Trotting over to take a closer look, I caught sight of a door off to the side which I hadn’t noticed before. There, left wide open for all to see, was a rather sizable closet, big enough that I could have stepped inside and looked around if I wished. I could see three shelves of models extending beyond the bannister, the corner of a cardboard box labeled “comics,” and a cushion resting upon the floor. A little reading cushion for when he didn’t feel like sitting at his desk, I surmised. He must have noticed my eyes lingering on the closet, for he spoke up. “Oh, that’s where I keep some of my extra books and models and stuff. Just so they’re not scattered everywhere.” I nodded. Sensible reasoning, indeed. Curious, I made to take a look inside, though not without a quick glance toward Spike so I might get his consent. He gave it with a casual wave, following me over. As I entered, I noted that each of his models had a specific place on the shelves lining the walls—three on each, extending to the end, then almost wrapping around. Before each model, there was a small white card with a name written in neat script. Script a bit too neat to be Spike’s. I peered at the first card and let my eyes trace over the words Canterlot Castle. Down the line they went, throughout history and even fantasy. The Fortress of Pegasopolis, The Castle of the Pony Sisters, and Smokey Mountain Citadel, the fabled stronghold of the ancient dragons. Fitting that he would choose to build the last one. His comics and books, however, didn’t have such an arrangement. A fact which made me tilt my head and furrow my brows. Naturally, I just had to ask, “Why aren’t those on shelves?” I waved a hoof at the at the boxes. “Or is there some sort of display rotation you’ve worked out?” Spike laughed and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Quills and Sofas just had two when Twilight took me looking for some back when we were setting up my room. I’ve got two more on backorder.” I had to assume “backorder” was meant to imply some sort of delay in production. For a second or two, I considered the notion of biting whomever had so woefully failed to execute this task. But then, I recalled my lesson with Cadence. If she heard tell of me entertaining such thoughts, she’d be most disappointed. Perhaps even a tad displeased. Displeasing my hosts was the last thing I wished to do. They had far more important things to worry about. “Well,” I said slowly, “I hope your new one arrives soon so you can have your full collection on display. I imagine it’s quite nice.” He aimed a grin in my direction. “Yeah. It will be.” Spike stole a glance over his shoulder, back toward his desk, thinking for a moment. “Y’know, I’m kinda curious about that series you got me …” My earfins twitched again. “Oh?” Spike raised his brows.”And Twilight and I can fit pretty comfortably on that cushion.” I’ll never be confused for a genius, Small Pony Book, but I’m not so dense that I’d miss such an obvious hint. I lit my horn and dragged the cushion out of my friend’s closet while he moved to collect his comics. We slid onto the cushion, Spike taking position in front of me so I could peer over his shoulder as we began to read the first issue together. The length of time we spent reading together didn’t hit us until Twilight came to summon us for dinner.