My Little Poem

by MrAlbum321


Sleepy, Rainy Poems and Sunburst Graduations

I was asleep. I knew this. I dreamed, and I was aware of the dream. In the dream, I was standing in that Nightmare-damned room from eight years ago. The whirring of the ventilation motor was the only sound as I looked through that giant window that overlooked the containment ward, my heart dead, no longer alive.

I stared through the window at the four corpses. They lay in their hospital beds, all the restraints designed to lessen their agony now limp, no longer pulled taut. Their faces showed the serenity of that final sleep that had evaded them due to that terrible disease, their eyes closed, their heads limp. Their bodies still showed the scars from the straps designed in the vain hope of keeping them in their beds. The straps were a last-ditch effort to give them peace.

The straps didn't work. They just fought them, which tired them out even more than before. At least, that is what the doctors had told me.

They fought that disease to the last. They fought it because I told them to fight it. I had hoped that a cure was near. I had hoped that they could at least tell me what it was I needed to do next, about the child Baby Doll, about my… encounter, with Venusia, about my own life.

They had died two days ago. I had reappeared after a month-long disappearance yesterday. They had left me nothing. No instructions, and I doubted that their will would make my life easier or give me direction. I couldn't even touch their corpses as a way to pay my final respects. They had to be cremated because of the disease that killed them.

Venusia had to have made this happen. She must have timed it this way. There was no other explanation. A month-long tortuous ordeal had ended simply because she must have wanted me to suffer in a new way. She must have known that my guilt would crush my soul, since I wouldn't be there to be with my parents and Baby's parents the night they slipped away. I wasn’t there for them because of her. How in all the Nine Hells did I think that Venusia was not evil?! She, she fucking—

“Um… sir?” I did not look to the side; I knew that the lawyer was there.

I could see my face in the reflection of the window glass. My face was flush with emotion, primarily sadness, with hints of depression and fear. This was strange, because I felt nothing. I thought I had the complexion of a robot, not of a grieving loved one. I didn’t understand this strange disconnect I felt, even though I wanted to understand it.

I turned to face the lawyer. He used his magic to crack open a file in front of him, although his eyes stayed on me.

“It is time to read the final Will and Testament of your parents, Lilywhite and Lickety Split,” the lawyer said. “However, their will is a little strange; it is a joint will not just with them, but with Ms. Doll’s parents as well, Shutter Snap and Sassafras.”

They were close, I thought. This is surprising, but not by much.

The lawyer motioned to the hallway. I turned on my heels and walked out the room, away from the room that overlooked the four corpses. I felt nothing, yet I could see tears dripping from my face to the hospital tiles below.

I crossed the threshold, and found myself walking through my bedroom door, one year after the death of my parents. I was unable to sleep that night because of some reason that escaped my memory. I hadn't slept for the past week, my mind was frazzled and upset for reasons I couldn't remember, and I just wanted to drink some milk and eat some cookies… if I could find any. I wasn't above baking cookies just so I could eat them by myself. I was that desperate for a midnight snack. I had a dim hope that it would settle me down and lull me to sleep.

I knew I was still dreaming, but I could not determine why these events of my life were now being brought to my attention. If I remembered this dream, then I might wonder about it later, but for now my mind observed things as they unfolded in my dream-state.

As I walked to the kitchen, I heard a knock at the door to my house. It was well past midnight. I was surprised I even heard it, especially given my near-manic status. By the time I got to the door, I heard a foal bawling its heart out.

I froze.

How long has it been since Venusia, well, did what she did? A year! W-what if she’s here? What could she want? Could she really have a foal, would the foal be mine? Why now?! Why would she even—

A green glow appeared beneath the crack of the door. My thoughts took a more dramatic turn: C-could she… hurt a foal? Maybe her own?

I sighed, knowing the answer to that. I rushed to the door, closed my eyes, opened it, grabbed whatever was on the doorstep, tossed it inside, and slammed the door shut.

When I opened my eyes again, I was laid out on the couch in the foyer. The book in front of me was about the origins of the sonnet. Heartbreak often motivated art… except it never motivated my art. Why was I reading this book again?

“Panty, I want to change my name,” Baby Doll told me. I glanced up, to find her about four years younger than how I knew her today. I was still aware that I was dreaming this, and that this wasn't real, but a vision of how things had happened in the past.

It took a second for the request from her to register in my head. I nodded and said, “Alright, I guess we can go down to City Hall tomorrow and get the paperwork all sorted out.”

“I thought you’d say no,” she said. She walked up to where I sat on the couch, and put her face right in front of my own, jerking my head away from the book I was reading.

“Why would I say no? It’s your name, not mine,” I said, trying to gently push her head away so I could continue reading. She persisted, forcing me to sit up and look her in the eye.

“You said that my name reminded you of my parents.”

I had to think about that statement. Did I say that? When, where? Under what context? My confusion must have been apparent on my face, because Baby’s face scrunched in annoyance at my reaction.

She face-hoofed. “You’re hopeless sometimes,” She said as she shook her head.

I sighed, not sure if I should be relieved or worried at her words. “Well… at least I’m trying to move on now.”

“Taking a walk around town is hardly what I would call ‘moving on’,” she said, as she waved one hoof in the air to emphasize her sarcastic quote.

“It’s better than nothing.”

“It’s stupid compared to what I did.”

I rolled my eyes. “You got selected by that agent, which kick-started your modeling career. The stars aligned and made you a star.”

“The same thing happened to you yesterday.”

“The Principals of the School of Rhythmics are a bunch of well-meaning, very talented ego-strokers. I’d rather be in the thick of the world doing something with my writing ability.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And that is lazing around the house reading books?”

“It’s research.” I don’t know why I said that, but it seemed plausible enough.

“It’s laziness.” Her expression became serious. “You could go out for another walk while I change my name to Barbara.”

“Don’t you have a modeling career you need to get to?” I wanted to end this conversation before we started to accuse each other—

“Shouldn’t you be a better husband?”

Everything inside of me tensed. I stared at her with every mean emotion that I had bottled up over the years. Her eyes widened with shock when she realized what she said.

She stammered, as she backed away: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, I know you don’t like talking about what was in the will—”

“Shut. Up.”

I stormed out of the room, making sure not to touch Baby or go near her. It wasn’t her fault. She was an eight-year-old filly at the time her parents and my parents died, and that damned joint Will and Testament lumped us together in an arranged marriage. Forget that I was sixteen at the time, it was wrong and stupid for our parents to even entertain that notion.

I slammed the door to our house behind me, fuming, angry as hell for reasons I sort of remembered. I made it to the front gate before I started to sob.

Baby and I had every option to say “no” to the arranged marriage. Baby wanted to do it, because she thought it was the best way to respect our dead parents’ wishes. I didn’t want to make her cry. I didn’t want to leave her alone to face Celestia-knows-what. Then again, I didn’t have to marry her, I could have adopted her, it would have been easier, why didn’t I just... I wish I had changed my decision.

It had been three years since the day I had come back. We spoke to each other, but we didn't touch each other. I made it clear that I did not like our situation and wanted to change it, but she kept refusing to let go. And now she wanted to change her name. Fine by me. The only thing I would have wanted from her is a divorce, but that can only happen once she has reached the Age of Maturity, sixteen. The law’s the law. She has to be old enough to make her own decisions before I kick her out of my life.

I have to be fair, even though life is never fair.

I collapsed by ground before the front gate, crying my heart out at the injustice and stupidity of both myself and everything in this world. I hated my dead parents, I hated my arranged marriage, I hated my child, my life, everything. It all went to Tartarus, and I felt like the remaining pieces fell through my hooves, like sand through an hourglass.

“Pantrostic….”

I turned back around to the house. Baby—no, Barbara—stood there. Her mane hid her face, which was quite the feat considering how short it was.

I couldn't look away from Baby—no, Barbara—Use the name she wanted, for Celestia's sake! She grew up in front of my eyes into a beautiful mare. All of a sudden, I could feel an urge to have her in a way I never expected.

Then, she changed. Her Pegasus wings shrank and a Unicorn horn sprouted from her head, all while her coat and tail had their colors washed away. I still could not look away as she transformed into a mare who haunted my nightmares and daydreams. I could feel my entire body shake as I tried to pull back from this monstrous mutation. Her hair parted, to reveal her face morphing from worried normalcy to manic insanity, her blue eyes transforming into a fearsome brown, a green fleck in the bottom right corner.

“Come to me… I can make everything better again….” That voice was not Barbara's. It was a pony's voice that I never wanted to hear again.

Venusia, having finished her transformation, lunged at me—

*PLOP*

GAAH! I brushed the water droplet off my face, as the dream melted away into the silent reality of my room. My movement sent my bedraggled mane every—which—way, including into my eyes.

I opened them a little, and saw that I had curled around my two pillows. Again. Damn that nightmare, it always hurts to wake up from—

Another drop of water slapped my eye, which made my face twitch in annoyance. I turned over, and looked up at the leaky ceiling, another reminder of my failure to maintain the family home. As if I needed reminders; there were days when my guilt would run through my comically long Checklist of Shortcomings. Those were also the days where I would be so depressed, I wouldn't get out of bed without some outside influence, usually Barbara.

I wish Barbara was here. I had to be alone for so long, even though we were married. Under the same roof, with the same person that I love with all my heart, and I have to keep my distance. Anyone else would have run. There were times when I wish I did run. It was just the right thing to do, to let her grow up so her body would be ready for, well, the acts that came with being a wife.

Another drop of murky rainwater landed on my pillow. A sudden thought came to me: Wait! That could make for a great poem!

I rushed over to my notebook, which I had put by my bed out of habit. Glad I bought that waterproof paper! I thought to myself as I pulled out my waterproof pencil. I love it whenever I get my rump in gear and actually prepare!

I levitated the pencil to the paper and began to write:

Sky
Heavy, Raining
Rooftop, Tumbling, Sliding
Crack, Insulation, Dust, Animals,
Ooze, Dirty, Dripping,
Pooling, Falling,
Face

I put the pencil down, my body already tired from the effort to maintain the simple levitation spell. Stupid allergies, messing with my magic—I sneezed, snot spraying onto the paper— gonna have to go to Nurse Care Stare for another tablet of Pollenborne, but what about what I just wrote? I took a good look at my little poem.

...huh, a few too many words that sound the same, but it gets its point across. I dunno, it needs to be more like the middle line. Let’s see now, how could I inject some needed word variety in a revision....

I tore the page out of my notebook, letting it float to the floor along with the stacks of other failed literary works. Why the hell do I do that? I mused. I always lose my drafts that way.

I tried to lift up my pencil again with my magic. It jumped a little, but settled back onto the bedside. I tried again; the pencil didn't even twitch. Hell, it didn't even glow to indicate that it was the target of my spell.

....

DAMN ALLERGIES!

My temper began to swell as I picked up the pencil in my mouth. I struggled with getting the stupid piece of lead and wood to make contact with the journal in my lap. I finally managed to touch down by hunching over, which made me cramped as well as angry. I was pretty sure that my stomach hated me right then.

I took as deep a breath as I could, and began to scribble:

Sky
Condensed, Heavy
Falling, Tumbling, Rooftop,
Crack, Insulation, Dust, Animals,
Ooze, Dirt, Pooling,
Hole, Dripping,
Face

I straightened up, my back feeling stiff like my sinuses, and my sinuses sore from another sudden sneeze which ejected the pencil into a dark corner and made me feel so gummed up in my throat and mouth that I just threw the stupid journal against my window, which cracked as the spine made contact with the old and yellowing glass.

My guilt shot through me once again; How could you do that?! it shouted. This place is at least several centuries older than you, how could you disrespect that? What would your Ancestors say, you ugly son-of-a-mule!

I turned around and brought the edge of my blanket to my face, trying to sleep despite the emotional anguish that I knew was about to trigger in my head-space; just part of the routine of being pathetic me. Thankfully, my ego began to spin out of its mental orbit, and the distraction it gave my mind was enough for it to realize how late it was and how tired I felt. I closed my eyes and let my inner child whine like the little jerk it was:

I gotta get some sleep! Being the Poet Laureate for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns means I’ve got to recite that one poem of mine tomorrow for the after-graduation show, even though that poem was written when I was seven years old and I think it's the most embarrassing thing in the world but ehh, whatever, if people like it, people like it. Certainly wasn't my fault it won that poetry contest and turned the Foal Writer's scene upside down because nobody expected a foal to write something that complicated, but now I'm just tired and rambling and muttering and Oh come on just shut up and shut down....

My body let out a yawn as I shifted myself again, using my movement to heat up both the rickety bed and the blanket. It wasn't much, but it was better than a cold bed. I fancied the squeaking would make ponies think dirty thoughts, if there were other ponies in the adjacent rooms of this nearly empty and derelict house. It helped keep me warm when the cold of the storm outside could just waltz in from the spaces where the roof toyed with the wall. I closed my eyes and... just...

Relaxed….

...........

I woke up with a bloody nose as the early morning sunlight penetrated my eyelids and triggered the biological alarm clock everyone has to some degree or another. I lunged out of bed, grabbed my fanciest clothes including my favorite red vest, and charged into the bathroom, knowing that I could have overslept.

I couldn't do that. Not today. Today was the Ceremony. I had to be at school, on time, for once in my life.

Right as I entered the bathroom, I sneezed, spraying blood all over the sink. I realized, to my horror, that the spray had hit my red vest as well. I dropped the clothes on the floor and rushed to get some tissue into my nose before another sneeze would ruin this morning more than it was already ruined.

I felt relieved when my nose was plugged and the blood flow had stopped. I washed away the blood from the sink and my face, double-checking my appearance in the mirror as I did so.

My dark-green coat needed a serious brushing, which I figured I would not have time for. My purple mane was worse. I had no idea why Barbara wanted to put bleached speckles into it, but it made an already disheveled mane look even messier. A part of me didn't want to forgive her, when another part of me knew that I would.

Come to think of it, where is she?

I slipped all my clothes on, and double-checked the appearance of my favorite red vest. Thankfully, the red velvet had not changed color although its front had been hit by the blood spray. I sighed, a little relieved, but then I realized that although it didn’t stain the color, it still matted down the fabric, making it as visible as if I had spilled water on it.

Kill me with Celestia’s forehooves! Of all the days to look like I was careless with a glass of water!

I pushed my pessimism thunder-crashing against my emotional state out of my mind when I thought of the time. I made a mad dash for the door, grabbing my backpack from the couch. I blasted out the door, nearly tripping over my own hooves as I pivoted back around to lock the door. After much panicked fumbling, I finally managed to get the stupid key in the stupid lock and get it turned in the correct direction.

I hurdled my way over the gate and barely managed to keep myself from spilling into the street. I dashed to the bus stop as fast as I could, praying to Celestia that the bus hasn’t gotten there yet.

The next thing I saw was an elderly mare on a walker, right in the middle of the sidewalk. There was no easy way around her, with a wall to the left and the road to the right. I was moving too fast to stop. I couldn’t just plow through her. I didn’t want to hurt her.

I grit my teeth, and tried to dash into the road, despite how busy the traffic was. My rear hoof caught a piece of cobblestone that happened to jut at just the wrong angle, which caused me to trip and fall head over heels. I careened right into her walker, and sent it flying after my legs got tangled up in it.

I came to a stop a few feet away, everything sore from the trip and the fall. I managed to pull myself upright, and found myself looking away from the elderly mare. I found where her walker was, and walked over to it. Once I picked it up with one foreleg, I looked back and nearly had a heart attack.

The elderly mare had collapsed on the ground, right where I had barely managed to avoid her at the cost of her walker. I dashed over to her, every possible worry running through my mind. I brought the walker to her, and knelt down by her face.

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry, are you alright?!” I could hear the panic in my voice.

The elderly mare looked up and glared daggers at me.

“Watch where you’re going, you dumb colt!” she spat at me. She didn’t move though.

I brought the walker to the front of her, and got right by her side. “Here, let me help you back up to—”

“Get your hooves off me, jackass!” she yelled at me.

I ignored her, grabbed her gently about her midsection, and heaved her upright. She put her hooves on her walker, which allowed me to let her go and adjust the walker’s position. When she lightly slapped my hooves away, I backed away, and let her stand.

She was breathing hard, but she didn’t look hurt, just a little disheveled. She glared at me, but she didn’t wince or look like she had been seriously smacked. In short, she was okay, which prompted a sigh of relief from me.

“Ma’am, I am so sorry for that,” I said, raising my hoof in apology. “If there’s anything I can do for you, just—”

She knocked my hoof away. “Go away, you crazy stallion! Go give someone else a heart attack!” she shouted at me. She looked away, ending the conversation before I could even try to complete my apology.

I then remembered the bus stop, and turned back around. I broke out into another run, although I was slower and more deliberate this time, partly because I didn’t want to repeat that disaster with the old mare. I still ached a bit from the fall I took.

When I got to the bus stop, Barbara was there. She wore a no-nonsense cloak-and-blouse combo that complemented her bright green coat and feathers. Her mane and tail, on the other hand, was a near-offensive neon pink. How many dye jobs did she subject the poor strands to? I thought as I rushed across the sidewalk.

“That tissue is bad for your nose, you know,” she said when I just about collapsed in a heap next to her. “It stops the blood but makes things worse with your hay fever.”

Stupid, stupid, she’s right! As if on cue, a sneeze welled up in the now-plugged nostril. My sinuses felt like they were on fire as my body heaved, trying to eject the wadded-up tree pulp-turned-fabric that was the only thing preventing the sidewalk from becoming a monochromatic fractal painting.

As it built in intensity, I decided to try the only thing I could think of: I let it all out through my mouth.

“AAAAACBBBHHBHBHHHBPPPHHBHHOOOO!”

Everyone on the street heard my outburst. By Sweet Celestia, I was embarrassed. What was worse was that my body realized that I was trying to manipulate it and decided to punish me by reloading my protesting throat for several more heaves:

“AAAAACBBBHHBHBHHHBPPPHHBHHOOOO!”
“AAAAACBBBHHBHBHHHBPPPHHBHHOOOO!”
“AAAAACBBBHHBHBHHHBPPPHHBHHOOOO!”
“AAAAACBBBHHBHBHHHBPPPHHBHHOOOO!”

“Here,” I heard Barbara say, “use this to hold that thing in your nose, and to keep the bleeding down.”

She pulled out her white handkerchief from her purse with her mouth. I grabbed it between my hooves and quickly relieved my eviscerated nostril with it. I used one side to wipe as much of the blood away as I could, and plunked the cleaner side against my poor bleeding-but-now-grateful snout.

The bus finally came, pulled by a team of ponies that looked like they didn’t care. They had no qualms about spreading the exploits they saw while off break, though. I should know; I went among them for a month for a school project. Lots of interesting stories came as a result.

I rode next to Barbara, who was strangely silent, down the road to Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. I guess I could make a few couplets about the soaring architecture of the place, which was crafted specifically to Princess Celestia’s directions, although a poem of a famous landmark is SUCH a cliche, but I digress.

I thought about poor Barbara. I looked at her with the saddest face I had.

“I’mm sorry honney,” I said, wincing a little at the nasal sounds, “I couldnn’t help—“

She kissed me before I could finish. “It’s okay,” she said. She slid over, sat on my lap and leaned her back against my body. “Judging from the small rock I must be sitting on, I’d say you’re happy to have me here.”

By Princess Celestia herself, I love that mare. I don’t care if she’s a constant cock-tease, I love her.

I held her close as the bus trundled along its planned route. I could make out the smell of rotted beans; one of the teamsters that pulled the bus must have had a chili breakfast.

Barbara and I got the odd stare or two; after all, most Pegasi do not ride buses when they could easily fly, or ride a fast-moving cloud. I knew Barbara rode with me because I would be lonely on the ride to school. It allowed us to stay together a little longer before my classes and her modeling career would pull us apart for the day.

I thought back to when Princess Celestia paid my broken family a visit, shortly after I rejected the offer to join the School of Rhythmics. I remembered how she had phrased her offer: she wanted to “sponsor” my writing career, by admitting me to her School for Gifted Unicorns. I did not understand her motives at the time, and to some extent I still don’t. I’m not that magical. Why put me in a school whose most prominent graduates are savants in magic?

I learned quickly exactly how I could fit in with the school, and I have been a student ever since. She never did consider the fact that I was almost twice as old as the other students. I never intended to have much of a social life anyway, so I—

“Hey!” the bus driver yelled. “We’re at the School fer Gifted Unicorns! You gettin’ off or what?”

I startled from my musings and stood up with Barbara. We walked to the exit, where I paid her fee; students at Celestia's School rode the buses for free, although the tuition could be horrendous, depending on the needs of the semester. Mine was waived, though. The Princess saw to that.

I slipped through the glass gate to the School after waving goodbye to Barbara, who took off through the air. As I walked through the door to my Nonfiction Workshop class, I realized that I didn't have my journal. The same journal that still sat in the same puddle of putrid rainwater from last night in my room. Barbara’s gonna throw a fit at that; we had just conquered the mildew in the bathroom, and if more gunk like that ends up in my room... I shook my head to eject that train of thought as I sat down.

The classes today were formalities. You see, the graduation ceremony was today. Unlike other schools where all the students graduate on a specific day, the students in Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns graduate when they complete individual and specific tasks that utilize their talents to their fullest. Once their tasks are done, their graduation is fulfilled. Thus, there’s a graduation ceremony that means nothing, and a “full” graduation that means everything. This task is often begun on the day of the graduation ceremony, although there was rumored to be a student who fulfilled his/her task before setting foot in the school.

I was to be assigned my task right after the ceremony. I had hoped to postpone it, though. There was the graduation party to organize, and I got roped into it several months ago.

These thoughts shambled through my head when my third, and last, class, one on the Equinian poetry style of the Changelings, finished for the final time. I made a quick stop to the infirmary before heading to the central plaza. I opened the door to find the Nurse, her aged and wrinkled face smiling as a packet of Pollenborne hovered in the air.

"Well well," she said, "Right when I expected you!" I smiled and gave her a little hug.

"How are you doing today, Care Stare?" I asked as we pulled away.

"Oh, nothing too unusual," she said as she opened the packet and plunked the two oversized tablets into a waiting cup of water with her magic. "The fighters were doing live weapons practice, so there were a lot more cuts and bruises, but being busy keeps the old hooves from getting moldy."

I had written a creative nonfiction piece about the Infirmary as my end-of-year project for my second year here. It was quite the success, or so I thought, but no one appreciated it more than the head Nurse herself, Care Stare.

I gently swished the cup around, a little impatient for the tablets to finish dissolving and turning the clear water a weak orange color. She noticed that I was using my hooves and not my magic.

"You know, I'm sure a doctor could help you figure out specifically what you're allergic to," she said as she picked up the glass with her magic. "If it's messing with your magic, you should get it analyzed."

I sighed, tired of this argument. "If I had the time, I would, but unfortunately I don't."

I could hear her 'tsk-tsk' of disapproval, but I was adamant. I snorted with annoyance. There were just way too many things to worry about than my convoluted magic problems!

I snatched the cup out of the air and drank the mixture in one gulp. Relief flooded through my sinuses as the magical alchemy in the Pollenborne made its way through my body. I sat back, and was finally able to take a deep breath since yesterday.

"By the way, I cleaned this off," she said as she flopped Barbara's now-clean handkerchief across my face. I jolted out of my minor reverie and felt guilty for brushing off her worry.

"Look, once I get time, I'll get my magic analyzed," I said as I stuffed the handkerchief back into my pocket. "It's just, I'm at a very busy time in my life, and I just don't have the time to take care of myself like I should." I sighed as I stood up. "I know I should make time... but I don't know how to do it right now."

I walked over and hugged her. "Thanks for everything. I'll make sure to visit when I come back."

She hugged me tighter than I thought she would. "Don't be a stranger," she whispered into my ear.

Every warning siren went off in my head, and I had to spend a second to calm myself. She just appreciates that you take the time to talk to her and ask her about her day, you know. I mean, how often to people actually appreciate the work nurses do, especially school nurses? Just calm down, smile, and get to your graduation!

I took a deep breath, pulled away, smiled, and left. Her smiling face hung in my mind as I trotted to the courtyard.

The ceremony started in a few minutes. I shuffled into a line with the rest of my graduating class of about a hundred or so unicorns as we filed into the central courtyard, chairs waiting for all of us. Excitement rippled through the crowd. My ears overheard a rumor that Princess Celestia herself would address us. Just because this school has her name doesn’t mean she’s around all the time, which made her supposed appearance today something truly newsworthy. If she even shows, which I doubt.

I was involved with a lot of the planning for the after—graduation event, and not once did any appearance by the Princess ever come up, but then again, nobody can predict exactly what the Princesses plan—

The central courtyard bell rang, and everyone fell silent. Then, one of the most stunning sights to see appeared in front of all of us. I suddenly remembered how much of an honor it was to be a student at this school; no pony else got to see sights like this. Except for family... of which I have two shreds left.

The sun, directly overhead, pulsed with a wave of almost overwhelming light. The wave generated by that pulse radiated from the sun towards the dais where a microphone had been set up. Some ponies off to the side sprayed a fine mist into the air, which refracted the wave of light into a massive rainbow that spanned the courtyard. And at the apex of that rainbow was Princess Celestia herself.

The crowd was stunned silent by this display of solar power. Not a single shuffle broke the awe as Princess Celestia descended to the dais and spoke into the microphone:

“Today, we celebrate the most talented unicorns to grace Equestria!” she proclaimed. “And that is the truth, because life moves forward, allowing us to build on the successes of the previous generations to reach new heights of talent and prosperity! As you all go out on this day and accomplish the tasks set in front of you, you will discover new techniques, fresh ideas and innovative truths that will make your mark on our fair world!

“The advances you will surely bring to every pony’s lives could not come at a more fortuitous time. I have never seen so many crises and trials within one decade that I have seen in this present one, and I fear that they may even increase in the immediate future. We all will be tested, and you, the vanguard of our future, are the most effective weapons against the tribulations that assail us now and in the years to come. Good luck to all of you, and may the light of Equestria shine even in the most desolate of hardships!”

A bright flash appeared, blinding me. When the spots cleared from my eyes, I could see that the Princess had disappeared. Couldn’t stay for the after-graduation ceremony, huh? I thought as the Headmaster came up to the dais and began to call out the names of my fellow graduates. They came up, one at a time, shook hooves with him and either received a diploma lucky dogs! or received a flower. The diploma was for those who already accomplished their tasks for full graduation. Those with their cherished documents stood to the right of the Headmaster, and those with flowers stood to the left.

“Pantrostic!” I heard him call out, and I walked up to take my flower. When I shook hooves with the Headmaster, though, he slipped some piece of paper into my hoof. I quickly put it in a pocket so I could read it later as I picked up the flower with my mouth, although I dreaded to see what was on the note.

The Headmaster and I... we didn’t get along very well. He distrusted me because of some beef he had with my father, Lickety Split. Yes, that was his name. My dad was famous for his parkour skills, and had often competed in extreme urban sports, much to the chagrin of the Canterlot Rooftop Patrol—

Dammit, I let my mind wander. I quickly shuffled back to my place with the other flower-bearing pseudo-graduates, conscious of both the curious stares and the rolled eyes. As I stood in line in the clear and bright noon, the mist from Princess Celestia’s rainbow settling on my mane, I thought about her speech.

“... the most talented unicorns to ever grace Equestria!” Hah, I wish. But still, interesting word choice there. Indicates that she does show some level of formal respect for us, especially considering all the talk on “hardships” and “trials” and “crises”. Hinting at some looming apocalypse, eh, Princess? Or maybe it’s just that Equestria needs to expand or we’ll all start to crowd each other out? Could she have been referring to new social change as a result of the populace centralizing in main cities like Canterlot? Definitely a vague but honest-sounding and motivational speech, with a focus on the basic idea of perfection through suffering due to the trials of life. Just the right cliche-ridden, ego-pandering words for your “most talented” subjects, huh?

I snapped out of my musings when the Headmaster spoke more than three or four syllables in a sentence:

“—heard what the Princess had to say today, and I can tell you that she did not exaggerate in her urgency and her emphasis on the needs of Equestria. However, I cannot tell you specifics due to the sensitivity of these issues, but they could change our fair land forever. We may or may not want that, and even the Princess Herself is unsure of the right path. Her hopes lie on all of you to find that right path and guide our fair nation into it. Go with the grace of the Sun.”

He put his hooves together on the dais in a gesture that screamed reverence and respect, and then left the dais, ending the formal ceremony. Way to state the obvious, Headmaster Daric, like you always do. Everyone milled around to either chat with each other or leave. I took the opportunity to sit down, pull out that paper the Headmaster slipped me, and read what was on it:

Dear Pantrostic,
I wish to apologize for my personal behavior towards you. I was in love with your mother, Lilywhite, though she had eyes for that damned ruffian Lickety, the one who spawned you. You managed to inherit her love for the arts which did give me hope that you would exhibit the natural grace which she blessed the earth under her hooves with every step.
However, you developed your male parent’s rigid view of right and wrong. Because of that, he led her down a path that destroyed her, which you know more of than I, and in fact personally admitted to be true once if my memory serves me correctly. He saw me as nothing but a lecherous lover, when in fact the opposite was true. I wished the best for her, I truly did, and your father wasn’t the best. Not by all the evils in Tartarus or the wondrous stars in the heavenly sky were they ever meant to work well together, but she was hooked on him and wouldn’t let go.
It pained me when she died, and it pained me that you suffered as a result. Perhaps I should have challenged Lickety to show how he would make a good home for Lily, and... well....
….
(I couldn’t even make out this section, it was all smudged, scruffed and crinkled... from what, though?)
....
I... I have a bias. You were right to call me out on it when Princess Celestia brought you to the school, but I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to admit it, and... I am sorry that your time here suffered as a result. I should have put that bias aside to ensure that you developed in the best way you could and....

I had to stop reading.

I crumpled up the paper and put it back into my pocket. I sat down on one of the chairs, the event organizers working around me to clear the other chairs out of the courtyard. I could feel the blood rush to my face as I just about stomped the ground in anger.

I really wish the Headmaster would just let the past die! It's not like the past isn't important, it is, but not if it leads to self-obsession on this level, where you try to get on the good side of a LOVER YOU NEVER HAD, BY GOING AFTER HER KID. Seriously, just leave me alone and let the pain of her death die already! And Dad, I know he wasn't that bad, he would never have been jealous, he had his reasons, I know he—

“Excuse me, are you Pantrostic?”

I looked up, to see a strange unicorn speaking to me. It took a second for me to realize that, for one, the unicorn had wings, and for two, she was not pink so she wasn't Princess Cadence, and for three, she had no regalia or jewelry to mark what should be her rank as an Alicorn. Her purple coat and cutie mark gave her away, however; she was Twilight Sparkle. And she was talking to ME.

I took as deep a breath as I could, trying desperately to calm my shock at seeing her in a place like this, especially on this day. I stood up, stuffing the paper away and awkwardly straightening my still-bedraggled mane. I could barely make eye contact with her, I was so stunned that she had come up to ME of all people... although, I probably looked like I needed someone to talk to, considering what my facial expression must have been, but why her?

“Er, yes, that’s me,” I answered. I could see her look of curious disapproval. “May I ask what this is about?”

"You do remember your meeting with Princess Celestia to determine what your Task for full graduation will be?" Her cocked eyebrow spoke volumes of how unreliable I must have looked to her. "You are Pantrostic, right? Not just some pony who looks like him?"

I finally remembered the letter I had gotten from the Princess about three days ago. I also remembered that I had stuck the letter in my journal, where chance-knows-where it must have ended up. I silently cursed my lack of organization; my concept of a filing system was a box for "important papers".

"Oh, that!" I said at length. Twilight Sparkle sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, did she get my request to reschedule? I am an organizer for the after-graduation party, you see, and since it starts at—"

“The Princess told me to tell you and the other organizers of the party that it has to be cancelled due to circumstances beyond our control,” she said.

I stared at her.

“WHAT?!”

“Look, I know it’s a break from tradition, and she said she’ll explain why once we meet with her, okay?” she pleaded. “I didn’t want to tell them that things had to be this way, and neither did the Princess, but it has to happen. She didn’t even tell me why, so I really want to meet with her before much longer so I don’t have to feel more like a heel and a party pooper.”

I was taken aback by Twilight’s speech. I took a deep breath and held out a friendly hoof.

“I’m... I’m sorry, it’s just that this was something we had been planning for several months, and then for it to fall apart like this is just, well, sudden,” I said, doing everything I could to keep anything negative from my tone. “It’s not you I’m upset at, it’s the situation, so don't worry, I don't blame you or anything like that.”

She smiled, and shook my hoof. Both of us started to walk out of the courtyard. I saw Twilight glancing at me as I walked ahead. Why is she looking at me like that? Did she not expect me to apologize?

“We need to go to the Headmaster’s office,” she said. “And... thanks for apologizing. The DJ went on a shouting spree when I told her, and I barely managed to get out before losing some hearing.” She sighed. “Being a messenger is worse than being a hero sometimes.”

I nodded. “It is a different set of challenges,” I said. I hope that was enough to calm her down some. “Vinyl Scratch was looking forward to the party. She was so excited at the lyrics I wrote that she made an entire album around my poetry. It isn’t released yet; tonight was going to be that album’s premiere.”

I heard Twilight take a sharp intake of breath so I quickly added: “But it’ll be okay, we’ll figure out what to do with the stuff later, so don’t worry, okay?”

I turned to look at Twilight. From the look on her face, I could see how torn she was at being the bearer of bad news. I put a gentle hoof on her shoulder.

“It’ll be alright, you’ll see,” I said, hoping that would cheer her up. “When in doubt, try a platitude.” Thank you Dad for your insights, no matter how sarcastic they were.

She sighed, and moved my hoof away. “Again, thanks, but it still hurts a little,” she said.

“I'm sorry I couldn't help more,” I said. I turned down a hallway. “Headmaster’s office is this way.”

“Really?” she said as she turned with me. “Gosh, it’s been a while since I was here.”

“Yeah, the old Headmaster’s office had a large amount of Magi-Flex fragmentation for some reason, so it was moved to a new room,” I explained.

I led her down a couple more corridors until I came to the all-too-familiar double doors of the Headmaster’s office. The Headmaster was just leaving when we came up.

“Oh... Pantrostic.” he muttered when he turned and saw us approach. “I... I take it you are here to speak with the Princesses?”

I nodded. “Can we talk, afterwards?” I asked.

“Is it about that note?”

I nodded. He sighed, and nodded back.

“I will be in the library,” he said. He turned around and left.

I didn’t need to see Twilight’s face to feel her curiosity perk up. “It’s something personal,” I said. “I can’t really talk about it." I opened the doors to the Headmaster's office.

The place was a model of immaculate cleanliness. The square corners and near-straight lines clashed with Princess Celestia’s naturally curved form, which sat in the Headmaster’s long couch seated against the right wall, with the Headmaster's desk framed along the far side of the room. She turned her head at the sound of the door opening, and her face appeared... tired? Exhausted? It was hard to say. It was a peculiar kind of weariness that I did not recall seeing before.

“Good, you’re here,” she said. She sat up but didn’t leave the couch. I bowed as she levitated a document over to me and set it at my feet. “I need you to do a quick translation of this page before we continue.”

It was my turn for my curiosity to be piqued. I spread the document open with my hooves. The Princess noticed the action. “Are you sick?” she asked.

“I have seasonal allergies, milady,” I explained. “They mess with my magic a lot.” I looked at the text and recognized the symbols. “The symbols are some form of Primitive Ponyese,” I said. “I assume this was copied verbatim from its original rock?”

“This is an exact duplicate of the symbols, yes,” she said.

“The reason I ask is that Primitive Ponyese uses a circular form of grammar, designed for the symbol at the top of the rock to circle back onto itself,” I said. “This means that the placement of the symbols on the rock matters just as much as the subject of the text.”

The Princess looked thoughtful, as if she hadn’t considered that possibility. Huh. Didn’t think she wouldn’t know how to read Primitive Ponyese, I thought. I would think that she would know how, due to her being so old and all. Better make sure not to bring THAT up, though; that would be rude.

“Here, let me see the paper, then,” she said. I stepped off the paper as she levitated it. She folded the paper into the shape of an interestingly—shaped rock, with all sorts of bits sticking out of... a crescent? Something told me that this was no historical record she wanted me to translate. It’s probably some kind of poem, I thought. Figures.

She finished folding the paper and held it in the air with her magic. “Can you translate it now?” she asked. I sighed, nodded, and looked around the paper rock, following the symbols as they snaked around the shape.

“It’s most likely a poem, probably a fable or folk tale,” I said. “Here, symbols for the words ‘Single’ and ‘Peace’ flank the top, which has a pictogram of the sun, which could represent either the Royal House or—“

I stopped and looked at the Princess. “Is this an old record from your personal library?” I asked.

“We found the rock when I searched through some of her old documents from long ago,” she explained. “Luna remembered seeing the rock before, but we could not remember how to read it. We think it has something to do with the Elements of Harmony. We hoped that you would have further insight into the contents of the text.”

“This might be something personal instead,” I said. “You sure you want me to continue?”

“Yes!” she said. I didn’t understand why she was so insistent, but I looked back to the paper-rock model. Okay, the top is the sun, which indicates that this has to do with the natural order, followed by the Single-Peace couplet. What follows is... huh, that’s interesting....

“Twilight? Can you write down the following words?” I asked. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

Twilight levitated a pad of paper, a quill pen and ink from the Headmaster’s desk. “Ready!” she said. I took a breath, and started:

Sun
Single
Order
Royalty
Family
Three
Sisters
Magic
Vessels
Forge
Castle
Forest
Trees
Leaves
Light
Sky
Peace

“Can I take a look at those words?” I asked. Twilight put the pad of paper by my feet. Princess Celestia set the paper-rock mould down, which allowed me to double-check the actual glyphs with the words I translated. Then, it hit me. I knew what kind of beast this literary work was.

I smiled.

“This is a poem that has a deliberately vague meaning,” I explained. “I wondered why there was nothing to indicate the direction in which to read the text on the rock, and that was why. It’s quite devious, really. Only the original author, which I assume might be Luna, knows how this poem is supposed to be read and interpreted, so unless she remembers how to read it we are left with two vague and general translations, which could be incorrect.”

“The first general translation is as follows: ‘The sun, the single element that determines the natural order, shines on a royal family of three sisters, whose magical power is contained in vessels forged in a forested castle, the trees stretching their leaves towards the light from the peaceful sky.' The second translation reads as the reverse of the first, but again, the proper translation could start or end on different symbols."

I sat back and looked at Princess Celestia, and was surprised at the look on her face. It was one of shock. I surprised the Princess? Holy crap!

Princess Celestia stood up and levitated the paper-rock and the pad of paper into a bag by the side of the couch. “Thank you for those clear translations,” she said. “It helps explain something critical to your task, which must not be repeated to anyone else besides us three.”

"Clear" translations?! How was that clear? Okay Princess, what's going on?

She walked to the Headmaster’s desk, and looked out the window at the far wall. She sighed.

“Everyone assumes that just because Luna and I are old, that we remember every moment of history,” she began to say. “The truth could not be further from that assumption. The furthest back I remember is about a thousand years, and that’s only after an entire day’s worth of meditation.”

"It's alright if you don't remember," Twilight spoke up.

Celestia turned back to Twilight and I. “This rock was dated as far back as fifteen thousand years ago, which was when, as folklore tells it, Luna and I came to Equestria. This stone could be the only record as to how Luna and I found the Elements of Harmony."

Princess Celestia looked at us with such seriousness that I think my knees began to knock together. I felt genuinely afraid to be in that room, yet unable to look away from that face as it stared at me, expecting me to obey no matter the demand.

“You can see why this is critical to us,” she continued. “If the method by which we gained our powers, or the method by which we crafted the Elements of Harmony is floating around somewhere in Equestria, which this forge might be—"

“Then anybody could gain those same powers!” Twilight exclaimed.

My brain went blank as it struggled to comprehend the impact of that last sentence. I slumped onto the floor. not really thinking, trying to get a grip on my own psyche before I lose every semblance of emotional control.

I breathed deep, closed my eyes, and stood back up. I still swayed, but I was standing. Someone grabbed my shoulder and steadied me. I leaned on that person’s leg, breathing hard, but I was regaining control, channeling that fear and weight into a more mature response.

When I opened my eyes, Princess Celestia’s worried face stared back at me. Seeing her concerned expression helped calm my nerves some more. I continued to breathe deep, doing my best not to hyperventilate. When I felt steady enough to speak, I did so:

“Sorry for that, I... I got overwhelmed. The thought that such a powerful forge exists caught me off guard. I’m alright, just need some time to calm down.”

The Princess smiled at me. It felt very gratifying for her to care about my well-being, somehow. Twilight led me to the couch, which I gratefully sprawled myself on, my chest heaving with the effort to try to relax. Princess Celestia spoke again:

“I apologize for being so intense, I didn’t expect you to nearly faint, Pantrostic. I just wanted to impress upon the both of you how serious this could be.” She turned to Twilight, “Twilight Sparkle, I want you and your friends to investigate the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. It is a castle in the middle of a vast forest, and it is roughly connected with mine and Luna’s past, which matches with both interpretations of the poem.”

She turned back to me, and I suspected I knew what task she would give me for my full graduation.

“Pantrostic,” she said, “I want you to accompany Twilight and her friends and record their journey. You will also serve as a translator for any ancient writings your group may find. Make sure the translations are a part of said record. It will become a part of the Royal Canterlot Library, considering the high historical import of this task. Your full graduation will be contingent upon your success.”

The Princess walked behind the Headmaster’s desk and pulled a box out from under it. She levitated it to Twilight Sparkle. “Twilight Sparkle, I want you to have this,” she said. “Open it when you feel it is safe to do so. I pray that you won’t have to use it, but you should keep it to do with as you see fit.”

Twilight levitated the box to her back. “I will do my best, Princess Celestia,” she said. “What is in it?”

“I cannot say here,” The Princess said. “You should recognize it when you see its contents.”

I took an extremely deep breath.

“This... is a little much,” I managed to say. “I didn’t expect to be sent to the farthest corners of the world to chase a poem on some epic quest. What good would I be out there?! How are we getting there?! What are we even looking for?! The... well, the thing we talked about—“

“I sound—proofed and magic—proofed the room,” Princess Celestia said. “Speak freely.”

I had to take another deep breath. I’m pretty sure I was hyperventilating something fierce, but I couldn’t really tell, I was that out of it. My face felt like it was going numb as I held it in my hooves and breathed with all my might.

“Alright, well, the Forge could look like anything, be anything, or it might not even exist! The poem could have simply been Luna’s musings on your relationship to—“

“There are other sources that confirm that we came to Equestria about fifteen thousand years ago, and that the Elements of Harmony were found or created then as well,” The Princess interrupted in an even voice. “Yes, this was the only evidence pointing to a possible location of the Elements’ forging, but think of this: How WERE the Elements made? There must have been some kind of process at work. But what? We should at least check this lead out, since as of right now it is our only lead to the Elements' creation.”

I felt really dumb. But there was so much worry pulsing through my mind that I could barely keep my thoughts together. Would we succeed? Would we fail? What are the steps of the journey? Where are we going to get supplies? HOW THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET THERE?

I felt a hoof on my shoulder. I looked up. I caught a glance of myself in the small mirror on the Headmaster’s desk. My sweat had added to the matting on my fancy coat caused by my morning nosebleed, and my face was all brown with the blood that had rushed to my face because of my hyperventilation. I looked like the day my parents had died.

I looked pathetic.

“Pantrostic,” Celestia gently spoke, “I have every confidence in your abilities. I know that you have been through a lot of personal troubles, but time and time again my confidence in you was not wasted.

“I want you to do this, Pantrostic. You are the pony for this job. It is what I had hoped for you to do. Please, if not for duty, then for your personal sake. Go with Twilight. Make your own mark on history.”

She had knelt down. She hugged me, then stood up, leaving me on the floor. I, well, I didn’t know how the heck to feel. Sad? Happy? Relieved? Upset? My heart felt like a crazy mish-mash between my subtle self-loathing and my attempts to recognize that, hey, she hugged me! She does care! Even though she’s the de-facto goddess of an entire nation, she cares about me! As my brain worked its way through all this emotional turmoil, I had calmed down. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and stood back up.

“I... apologize, for my dizzy spell. I was overwhelmed, and I did not handle it well.”

Twilight was still in the room. I turned to her. “When are you leaving?”

“I’m leaving tonight,” she said. She looked away, awkwardly rubbing one forehoof against the other. “Ten o’clock Pegasus Transport. Red-eye flight. I’ll be leaving for Ponyville, which will be our first stop for supplies and for my friends. Are you going to come with me? Or will you come later?”

“I’ll need to talk to my wife... and to my son. I do not know how he will take it, especially considering his... condition.”

“Oh, you have a son?” Twilight asked.

I winced. “It’s... complicated. I’ll fill you in on the flight tonight.”

“So I should expect you?”

“Let’s hope so. If I’m not there, leave without me.”

Twilight nodded, and left the room with the box from the Princess. I bowed to Celestia, and left the room.

I remembered the crumpled note from Headmaster Daric. Crap, I was going to talk to him. Am I up to it?

I sighed. Better now than later.