Freedom

by Quid Pro Quo


A Spark

Freedom
By Quid Pro Quo

It felt so serene on the mountain top, the wind in your mane, the open view of the world, and the complete isolation from the stark normality of life. A nice natural spring had formed near the mountain. Adding a serene, moist air to the already beautiful atmosphere. Ink always blissfully remembered the relaxing spot.

Although in more recent weeks it felt more than just a small escape from managing the market stall. The feelings he had on top of that mountain were becoming more and more powerful, soon days became less about making a profit from the small business he owned in the Canterlot market, to coming here to this quiet moment of tranquility.

Ink Blot the Unicorn noticed his comings here were increasing in number greatly, to whenever he remembered about it to every week to every day.

Ink once spent a whole day up here. Just feeling the peacefulness of this place easing his mind, that was constantly assaulted daily by managing his produce business, and the inept apprentices that always found their way to his place of work looking for a job.

He never imagined his life to be so mundane.

Ink wasn't suicidal. He didn't hate his life. It just... disappointing.

He asked others what they did whenever they felt their lives were slowly just whizzing by them. All he got was accusations of how he was unappreciative of the benefits of his life. He should be a proud Equestrian citizen, thankful for their Princess Celestia.

Celestia…

He had come to resent the sun princess of their nation. Not directly hating the princess, but rather resenting what symbol she stood for. She was the deity every pony was expected to love, work for, and fear. For all crime was blotted out by Celestia. She was their savior, she should them peace and love. She worked us to death!

It boggled his mind at first. Was peace and prosperity making life seem much more dull and shallow? Did he need a war or some sort of conflict to drive him forward. He thought too however those things were are so much more thrilling when there’s some sort of force or person opposed to you.

So then that’s what he decided at first. He’d make an antagonist. A Nightmare Moon to Princess Celestia if you will. It started at first at simply pissing somepony else off.

He got customers every day at his shop, mostly random individuals who wanted a take at whatever produce he was selling at the market today. Simple trading and bartering was the backbone of the Solar Empire’s economy.

Solar Empire, and they say Celestia wasn't egotistical… she named the whole of her empire after the mark on her flank. Ink always thought whenever he heard the term.

He waited in his market stall for awhile. Checking out his customers and wondering who could be a potential adversary. A first he wanted another rival business pony, however he hated business. It was something his father forced him into. He need someone who he could fight and enjoy doing so.

So during one of his days of work, a noble pony walked up to his market stand.

It was none other than Sliver Charger, some noble’s son that thought he was Celestia’s gift to the world just because his daddy was rich.

He was perfect. Hotheaded enough to make some sort of fight over anything against his ego, powerful enough to be an interesting foe and more importantly, he really couldn't think of any other possible contenders. So it was more out of laziness than anything else.

Sliver of course made his way through the small line in front of Ink’s stand. Ink hid a small smile as he drew closer, Sliver’s behavior making it ever so obvious he was perfect for his role.

“Peasant, do you have any apples? “I want something spice out my extravagant diet.” Sliver spoke as he shooed away the remaining ponies from the line.

It was obvious he was trying to show off as Ink quickly noted, as why else a noble’s son would come here for food, or call ponies a "peasant".

“We have several bushels; I can offer you a bag for-"

“I do not barter in mere bags, Imbecile. I want the entire stock.” Sliver demanded.

This is just too good… Ink thought to himself.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Ink said softly.

“Quit acting as though you have a choice heathen, consider yourself lucky I am even purchasing from your mule’s end of a shop.” Sliver snarled.

“Mule’s end? If anyone’s acted like an ass it was your pompous ass trotting through here like people care.”

He’d done it now.

“You filthy little milk drinker! My very name is already worth more than your whole existence!”

All Ink had to do was reel him in.

Using magic from his horn, Ink picked up one of the cabbages off his produce stand, and promptly threw it directly in Sliver Charger’s face.

Sliver looked at him for a moment. Pieces of cabbage still stuck in his mane.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Sliver lived up to his name and charged into Ink’s store.

Ink Blot had kind of gone too far.




Ink’s arm still hurt from when Sliver’s hoof smashed down on it, breaking it in several places. The wound had long since healed but occasional trickles of pain aroused occasionally.

Ink considered it a wake up call for a while. He had been over thinking this whole midlife crisis ordeal and in return spent the night in jail for fighting.

Sliver Charger had long since moved on after his night in jail after their fight. Claiming he had better things to do than to kill a miserable peasant.

Ink Blot was quite disappointed in himself after that incident. The whole affair was a stupid idea, and he quickly retreated back to his quiet place of peace on the mountain top the night after he was freed from jail.

Yet a small simple thought still lingered inside Ink Blot’s head. While getting his flank handed to him by Sliver a small little spark emitted in Ink’s being.

He enjoyed the experience.

Something fun, new, and interesting had happened that day. Something people talked about, something that he greatly relished in. He didn't spend the whole night managing sales reports and preparing for another dull day. He spent in a jail cell, which was so against his squeaky clean record and mundane existence that he absolutely loved it.

And he wanted more…

After his night in jail. Ink Blot quietly returned to his small cottage. It was an unremarkable house for a seemingly unremarkable pony.

Ink’s special talent was writing. He loved writing about his thoughts and feelings and expressing his thoughts and ideas through paper.

It became his special talent when he was six years old. When his mother bought him a diary for his birthday. He was so thrilled and began writing almost instantaneously, making several short stories, comics and even an idea for a play.
And low and behold he gains his signature ink teardrop cutie mark, it was a grand day.

As much as he loved his writing, he was always torn away from it. Whether it be school, friends, or social events always took him away from what he loved doing most. It wasn't fair he remembered saying to his parents. He loved writing, why did they have to take it away?

Life moved on. He became older, responsibilities grew and suddenly freedoms he took for granted were now lost in time.
His writing slowly became less and less part of his life. Work became more important than everything and everything else seemed to not have a meaning because it didn't make Ink money.

Money was what his life was dictated by, and he had no control over it.

But the outburst with Sliver was like an escape, somehow. Ink still couldn't comprehend how exactly getting his flank beat by some snob was somehow enjoyable. But yet, he sat here on his bed thinking about how great it was to hit that jerk in the face.

But what was he doing?

Was it really worth nearly getting on the hit list of one of the most powerful ponies in Canterlot just for some thrill?

How selfish of you to think like that!

One of the naysayer’s voices piped up back in Ink’s mind. It really was selfish for the orange pony to suddenly decide that he was going to break all the rules just because he was bored.

Rules are there for a reason.

Another voice shooting down his new found ambition.

His entire life he lived by the rules. He didn't want to risk a stain on his record just so he could go skip school. Or try some weird mushrooms his friends found out in the Everfree forest.

Ink was right about to finish the mental debacle in his head when one final voice layers its opinion on the debate floor.

Are you happy?

Ink was about to say of course he was but something made him stop.

Was he happy?

He looked over to his desk, filled with finance reports and shipping orders that he needed to fill out to keep a business afloat that he didn't even enjoy.

He hadn't dated in a while. No mares were really into the workaholic, nerdy type.

Looking at his bed he saw familiar dent in the mattress where he slept every night. The all too familiar routine that he found himself getting stuck in over and over again, it was mind numbing how many days he thought he wasted.

“No, I’m not.” Ink flatly stated in the silence of his room.

Energy boiled up inside him, it was something new. A new desire for his life. Everything seemed fresh and new, something that been pent up for what seemed a millennia.

Then do something about it.

The energy that boiled inside him unleashed itself. It demanded that it be used.

Ink screamed in rage. A rage that apparently had been held back for a long while now. Something buried deep down under what he perceived as lies and falsehoods.

“I WANT TO BE HAPPY!” He cried.

Ink grabbed his desk in his magic and flung it across the room, leaving a nice dent in the receiving wall. Ink then immediately seized his chair up in magic and promptly bashed it against the already dented wall, then flung the wooden stool across the room. After sating his rage and destroying his room in the process, he sat down, panting and heaving over his emotional outburst.

It was settled then. Things were going to change. No longer was he going to be obeying every law under the sun. No longer was he just going to get by with some lame job at the market stalls. He will be free, because he wanted it. Not because somepony said he had to do it.

A poster of Celestia had fallen down in front of the exhausted pile of Ink Blot. Celestia was in a royal pose with bold bright letters underneath saying, Praise Celestia and Praise Equestria!

Anger suddenly took Ink Blot again. Celestia’s figure it seemed was taunting him. She was the epitome of order and organization, and the creator of the system that had enslaved Ink for years, and she dared show her face in front of him.
In another fit of anger, he grabbed Celestia’s poster and burned it to ashes.

He lay back on his floor in with a smirk of satisfaction on his face. He now had a mission, an antagonist.

Celestia just made a new enemy tonight.

The funny thing was that he didn't even hate the poor princess. It was probably more of the act of killing her than anything.

I'm going to kill a goddess...

The sheer insanity of that thought made it so much sweeter.