//------------------------------// // The Alicorn that Took Her Sweet Time // Story: The Alicorn that Time Forgot // by JamBurglar //------------------------------// “I think if we’re finished here, that about wraps up this month’s meeting.” The elder griffon spoke. The Griffonstone library grew hot and humid in the early afternoon. At the elder griffon’s word the ambassadors of friendship all stood up from their seats around the large circular table which bore the seal of the GHCA and began talking amongst themselves. As Twilight used telekinesis to pull out her chair it got tangled on her dress. Just then the ambassador from Panthera came over. He was a tall, gray cat man with a purple duster and a matching feathered hat. “Excuse me, Princess?” he said. “Y’know I’m only eight hundred years old, you’d think I’d know how to pull out a chair without catching my dress on it.” Twilight said. “How can I help you, young man?” “First of all let me just say I’m a huge fan of yours. Could you perhaps autograph my copy of the Friendship Journal?” “Of course, hand it over here,” she manifested a quill and took the book with her telekinesis. “Who should I make it out to?” “Damien.” “To my new best friend, Damien.” And he just about fainted. “Thank you so much! Oh, this is gonna look awesome on my mantle!” Damien said as he took the journal back. He tucked the book back into his pocket and got an inquisitive look on his face. “Princess?” “Please, call me Twilight.” “Alright, Twilight…” he squee’d. “If you’ll indulge me a bit. I just wanted to ask…” he paused. “Let me preface this by saying that in my extensive studies of the history of friendship I learned about the founding of the Griffonstone High Council of Amity. As you probably already know it was created in memory of Gilda the Great, the first friendship ambassador. The documents on friendship theory I read mentioned that you didn’t attend the ceremony, nor join the Council thereafter.” Twilight furrowed her brow. “I guess I’m just curious as to why you would start attending the meetings as recent as five months ago, when you hadn’t at all in the past several hundred years?” “Oh, it can be attributed to any number of reasons, really.” Twilight said. “If memory serves, at the time I was preoccupied with my grandniece and nephew. That was a very heated time for Equestria, what with the princess’s deaths and all. I was proud of Gilda for her tremendous work in spreading friendship, but at the time I had bigger issues to attend to. Adding on to this was the fact that I was a deeply conflicted mare then. I started to question if I was really worthy of the title of Princess of Friendship.” “But you’re an excellent Princess of Friendship!” “Thank you, sweetie. Believe me, it was hard enough realizing this when the friends I’d ruled by for so long weren’t around anymore. It took many decades of soul-searching to regain my confidence.” “Believe me when I say I was in no position to join the council at the time of its founding. I hope you understand.” “I do,” Damien said. “I hope that wasn’t too personal a question.” “Not at all.” Twilight replied. “That chapter of my life is over now. I’m in a much healthier place both physically and mentally.” She began towards the library door. “You seem like a pretty personable fellow. What would you think of spending some time with me this afternoon?” “Are you kidding? I’d be honored! It’s not everyday you get to hang out with the Princess of Friendship herself!” The afternoon sun was comfortably warm as a gentle breeze danced through the air. Griffons mulled about their business gliding to and fro in the sky. Twilight felt refreshed once she was out of the hot library. Damien followed close behind her with a big stupid grin on his face. Taking in all the prosperity of the city, she thought back to eight hundred years ago when Griffonstone was in a derelict state, which made her feel old. The griffons had come a long way since those days, building a new mecca of commerce on Gilda’s teachings of friendship, which had turned into one of the most bustling cities in the world. “It does me good to see the city in this state.” Twilight said to Damien. “Without that silly old Idol of Boreas, no less.” “I’ve read about that too,” Damien said. “Griffons used to believe it was a unifying force that kept the kingdom together. Without its presence, Griffonstone fell into a state of disarray for many years. That is until Gilda the Great was taught the value of friendship by Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie.” “You really have done your homework.” Twilight remarked. “That idol might’ve been a useless trinket, but it still held immense power over the griffons of this place. If anything can be learned from its absence and Griffonstone’s progression toward a general amity regardless, it’s that progress is not always reliant on external forces. I realized this a long time ago.” Damien furrowed his brow at the remark, but decided not to press the matter further. “C’mon, let’s give this place a look-see.” The Grand Bazaar was teeming with creatures from all walks of life. The gradual rejuvenation of the city saw more non-griffons settling in (the griffon friendship crusades certainly didn’t hurt matters either). A kirin laid out her wares as a changeling musician performed on a street corner. Ponies of all shapes and sizes now called this place home. Twilight thought back to the especially-important-in-hindsight friendship mission Rainbow and Pinkie went on all those years ago. “Good job you guys,” she said under her breath. Twilight and Damien passed under the cast iron statue of Gilda in the center of the Bazaar, stopping briefly to admire it. “You should’ve seen Gilda before her character development. This may seem hard to believe, but she was a real piece of work.” “Really? Wow, I can’t imagine Gilda as anything but a friendly master-patissier the legends portray her as.” “Oh, so you’ve never heard the story of Gilda the Bully?” Damien shook his head no. “I thought not. It’s not a story the Griffon history books would tell you. It’s a Ponyville legend…” “...and that’s why practical jokes were officially outlawed by Griffonstone legislature. The end.” Damien removed his hat to wipe his brow. “Wow. And to think in all my years of being a friendship ambassador I never knew Gilda used to be a massive bitch! “For lack of a better term, yes.” Twilight said. “I think Gilda’s story teaches us to put ourselves in each others’ shoes, and that you should never give up on people who have slighted you until you see things from their perspective. Because you never really know what somepony is going through until-OH MY GOSH THEY HAVE AN ANTIQUE STORE!” Sure enough, Twilight’s rambling had led them right to a store that sold fine griffon antiques. They even sold ironic replicas of the Idol of Boreas. Twilight may have been a centuries-old ruler, but the wide selection of antiques didn’t stop her from squealing like a schoolfilly and dragging Damien inside. “Isn’t this exciting?” She began moving quickly between the shelves of merchandise, eyes darting around and hooves gently touching. Damien struggled to keep up with the suddenly-much faster Twilight. “I haven’t gone antiquing with somepony else since that one time with Sunburst.” “Sunburst? You mean the esteemed Crystal Wizard himself?” Damien asked. “I’ve studied his work too, and nowhere in his notes did he ever mention he knew you.” “That doesn’t surprise me.” Twilight said. “We were acquaintances at best. He was much better friends with my pupil Starlight Glimmer. I think we only went antiquing that one time.” She didn’t stop smiling. “He was a real goofball.” As the afternoon turned into evening, Twilight couldn’t hide her rumbling stomach from Damien any longer. In her centuries of living Twilight noticed more frequent cravings for desserts, and chalked it up to Pinkie Pie’s mannerisms having rubbed off on her. She turned to Damien. “I don’t know about you Damien, but I’m in the mood for something sweet. You ever have dessert before dinner?” “Um, maybe sometimes.” “Yeah, when you start getting up there in years you start to take life less seriously. Your middle-ages are the time to be boring. Actually, old folks have a lot in common with children.” She paused. “It only took me…several hundred years to realize that.” Damien didn’t know how to respond to that. Luckily, Twilight grabbed his paw and began leading him up the street. “C’mon Damien, mama needs some sugar! And that’s not a euphemism either, I really need sugar!” And Twilight forcibly led the way through the city. Eventually, they made their way to a small café on the far end of town called “Griffonscones.” As the door opened a bell chimed and a griffon popped up from out of sight behind the counter. “Welcome, my ambassador friends!” the griffon behind the counter said excitedly. “I’m Gwendolyn, owner and proprietor of Griffonscones! Feel free to call me Gwen though! How may I serve you?” For a brief moment Twilight wondered if Pinkie Pie hadn’t been reincarnated as a griffon. “Well Gwen, my sweet tooth is aching,” Twilight said. “Do you have any recommendations for me and my friend here?” “I may be a bit biased,” Gwen said. “But anything you see should do the trick! We also have several breakfast items that aren’t as conventionally sweet, but are still sweet regardless, what with being made in a bakery and all. And y’know, regardless of it being nearly nighttime now and all.” “What’s your favorite color, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Pink! Any shade or tone, even some of the funkier ones that don’t go with a whole lot! Doesn’t matter, I just love pink!” Yeah, that’s definitely Pinkie Pie. “I think we need a few minutes to decide, Gwen.” “Please, take your time! But regardless of your choice I’m sure your tastebuds will be delighted!” Gwen jumped up on the counter and began gesticulating wildly. “It’s my policy to pour my blood, sweat and tears into everything I bake (in a strictly metaphorical sense, of course!) All my confectionary creations are like my children. Children that you eventually eat! It’s how I do right by Gilda, whose sugary blood flows through my veins!” She paused briefly. "That's not to say I'm diabetic or anything! Again, that was purely illustrative." “You’re Gilda’s descendant?” Twilight said. “I always thought she was gay.” “Well you’re half right; apparently she was bi. Least that’s what my uncle told me.” The trio stayed quiet for a very awkward moment. Gwen coughed into her talon and hopped off the counter. “M-My ancestor’s sexual preferences have nothing to do with these delicious pastries though. So buy somethin’ already, will ya?” Much deliberation and another awkward silence later, Twilight decided on a daffodil muffin and Damien on a red bean fishcake. While the two friendship ambassadors ate, Twilight couldn’t help but notice Gwen giving her sideways glances and fidgeting behind the counter. Damien was sufficiently surprised by how voraciously Twilight devoured her muffin. By the time they finished, Twilight called out to Gwen to thank her for the pastries, but didn’t see her anywhere. It was only when the two turned toward the door did they see her perched above it creepily like a spider. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave yet.” Gwen menacingly flipped the “Open” sign to “Closed.” She turned off the lights and advanced on Twilight, forcing her back into a chair. She then produced a standing lamp from an unseen location and shoved it in Twilight’s face. “Alright, Princess. I’ve got questions, you’ve got answers.” She got out a metal folding chair, again from an unseen location, and sat down on it backwards. Damien nervously chewed on his claws. “W-What would you like to know Pin- uh, Gwen?” Gwen scooted her chair closer until her beak was nearly touching Twilight’s snout, in some kind of grisly staring contest. “What was Gilda like? I mean like, in person.” Gwen finally said. Twilight blinked. “Oh, is that really all you’d like to know?” “Yes! Don’t you realize this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? Getting to talk to somepony who knew your long-dead ancestor personally?” Damien breathed a sigh of relief and wiped his brow. “I want the full story, Princess.” I could tell you about one of your previous lives too, if you want. “Alright Gwen, if you want to know about Gilda I may as well start at the very beginning. It was your typical afternoon in Ponyville when my friend Rainbow Dash got an unexpected visit from an old friend…” The nighttime celebrations of Griffonstone were world-renowned for how exuberant (and inconsiderate to anypony trying to sleep) they were. There was dancing, live music, and delicious food; as though the creatures who lived here didn’t have to get up for work in the morning. The night festival’s popularity surely would’ve brought a tear to ol’ Moonbutt’s eye. High up above the city, two friendship ambassadors sat in quiet reverie. A king and queen whose dominion extended as far as the bench they were seated on. “Well I don’t know about you, but I think I can chalk today up as the best day of my whole life.” Damien leaned back on the bench and crossed his legs. “Now I’m the only creature in the entire world who can claim to have heard the history of Gilda the Great twice in one day!” “Yes, we had quite the busy day today.” Twilight said. “And here I thought it would be all boring politics at the GHCA meeting. Thanks for hanging out with me, Damien.” “We know how to have a good time in Panthera,” he said jokingly. “But if anything I should be thanking you, Twilight. I’ve been your biggest fan for as long as I can remember! And for you to spend the whole day with me, when you didn’t even know me this morning. I guess the legends about the power of friendship were true after all.” “I’ve known friendship to be the strongest magic in the world for practically my entire life. It’s amazing how fast connections can form if you just put yourself out there. Friendship itself is practically a scientific discipline.” At this remark Damien remembered what Twilight said regarding the Idol of Boreas earlier in the afternoon. “Twilight?” “Yes, Damien?” “Earlier today, you mentioned that you learned that progress wasn’t always reliant on external forces. I guess I’m a little confused by it. What exactly did you mean when you said that?” Twilight brought a hoof to her chin as she searched for the best response. After a moment, the proverbial lightbulb went off in her head. “Let me put it this way. Since my early twenties I’ve been conditioned to be this ’Princess of Friendship,’ as it were. For a good long while I assumed that this meant I had to have friends to be the princess I was expected to be. This goes without saying, but when my friends and loved ones all died it really shook my worldview. I spent hundreds of years lost and without purpose. I pondered suicide on more than one occasion. Overall, I really let my stress get the better of me.” “It wasn’t until within the last hundred years or so, that I realized that all this time, maybe being the Princess of Friendship didn’t have anything to do with having friends at all. Maybe it was something that came from within. So, I began conducting a series of social experiments to test this theorem. Joining the Council of Friendship was just the next step in this plan. Our outing today was the latest in a long line of experiments, and it won’t be the last either. Encountering Gwendolyn was just icing on the friendship cake. There’ll always be others like you two. Everypony likes to have friends; having friends just feels good inside. I guess the point of all this is my initial hypothesis proved to be correct. My being a princess wasn’t based on my capacity to have friends, but rather on my capacity to make them. You and Gwendolyn are living proof of that. Thank you.” Damien looked as though someone had just explained rocket surgery to him. That didn’t stop him from giving a polite thumbs up and an endearing smile, which Twilight returned. “Twilight…” he said. “What are you gonna do now?” “I’ll move on to the next town, and the next batch of subjects.” She bristled. “Gosh, when I say it like that it sounds so cold and clinical. Suppose I’ve always had a very analytical brain.” She laughed. “You know as much as I change, I also stay the same.” “Don’t we all?” Damien chuckled as Twilight got up from the bench. “Well, I’d better be getting back to my hotel, I have an early train tomorrow.” She leaned over and gave Damien a hug. “Thank you for spending the day with an old mare like me.” “Anything for the Princess of Friendship,” Damien said, returning the embrace. They enjoyed the moment for a time, before Twilight made to leave. “Take care of yourself Damien! I’ll see you at next month’s meeting!” She waved and disappeared into the cool Griffonstone night. Twilight Sparkle continued spreading the magic of friendship as far and wide as she could for the rest of her life. Her travels would take her to the far reaches of the globe; to regions beyond even Equestria’s mighty grasp. Centuries passed as Twilight, now known as the Nomad Princess, accrued countless friends from the furthest corners of the earth. By the time of her passing, the ratio of creatures that were friends with Twilight far outweighed the creatures that weren’t. Twilight’s friendship was so profound and far-reaching that it spanned multiple generations. When it came time for her funeral in Canterlot, more creatures attempted to attend than could fit in the whole of the city. The mountain capital became a congested mess for a staggering twenty-nine hours, in what became known as the “Great Bereavement Fiasco.” (Not at all helped by the fact that Discord insisted on giving a two-hour long eulogy.) Her grave was placed next to the other princesses’, finally completing the grisly quadrangle. The epitaph lovingly reflected Twilight’s natural talent for magic, her many celebrated accomplishments as princess, and her life’s work of bringing friendship to the world.