Canterlot, September 2014
The streets of Canterlot were unusually quiet on this warm September day. Ponies walked to and from their destinations along the street, and most of them hung their heads low, not really glancing up from the sidewalk. As was normal for the past two months, ponies muttered amongst each other in irritated tones when they talked. The normally-upbeat residents seemed to be in a funk, and this melancholy mood combined with the cloudy grey skies gave Canterlot the appearance of a downtrodden slum rather than a proud capital city.
Of course, Prince Blueblood knew the reason, contemplating it as he walked along the cobblestone streets: the ivory tower tax. Canterlot was suffering under the weight of the rest of Equestria’s devastation and their demand that the capital pick up the tab. Though Discord had spared the city, he might as well have leveled half of the buildings. The results would have been the same.
Blueblood glanced around the street and saw boarded-up shops interspersed with the few which had managed to stay in business. A building which had once been a leather furniture store stood with boarded up windows and a black-and-white sign which said “Closed.”
Another building stood next to it, this one a carriage dealership. “Going out of business sale: All prices 30% off!” red letters on a bright yellow sign screamed. Glancing through the windows, Blueblood could see that there was but a single customer in the building, and she was arguing with the dealer. She was probably trying to get an even better deal.
Blueblood laughed. Everypony was somehow surprised at how horrible for business the ivory tower tax was. Not him. When typical ponies no longer had even half of the income they had merely a few months ago, they would have to make cutbacks someplace. So ponies delayed purchases of anything other than necessities. Carriages and leather furniture, nice though they were, were not necessities, because basic carts and wooden furniture were available.
Irritated though Blueblood was about having the profits from his books cut in half, he did not let it deter him from continuing writing more of them. It was not about the money, and never had been. It was about educating unicorns on how to use magic. In that department, at least, he considered his efforts over the past year and a half to have been a resounding success. He was in the process of working on his third book. This book, unlike the other two, would focus on far more advanced magic. Though it would not cover the forbidden spells for obvious reasons, it would cover the most advanced sorts of magic that it was legal to teach.
Not that long ago, ponies would spend thousands to obtain the knowledge that he was now putting into a book with a planned retail price of just twenty bits. Though it went far less in depth than college-level textbooks, and many ponies might not be able to learn it without face-to-face instruction, it still contained detailed instructions on spells. More importantly, it was written in the same sort of plain language as his other books, rather than the antiquated, flowery prose of the past that so many ancient tomes were written in.
The stress of publishing, though, was quite enormous. There were numerous deadlines, revisions, and consulting meetings that he had to attend to. Though Blueblood far preferred the job of writer to the life of a dean, it was still stressful. Today, in fact, he had an important publisher’s meeting.
He walked down 3rd Street in Canterlot towards his publisher’s office. Today, he was submitting the next chapter of his manuscript for editing and revision. Blueblood carried the stack of paper in his briefcase, which he levitated next to himself.
Hmm, I should be sufficiently recharged by now. Blueblood glanced at his pocketwatch. Five minutes since his last teleport. He felt that he would be able to perform another one easily. This one should take me the rest of the way there.
Blueblood charged up his horn, and it glowed blue with power as a white light suddenly enveloped him. With a flash and a bang, he had disappeared from his former location and was now five blocks east on the corner of 3rd Street and Hackett Avenue, where the publisher’s office was located. He gazed up in the air at the multi-story building. A sign on the top read “Ink Trot Books.” Blueblood had never quite gotten the reference. Maybe it was a pun on “ink blot?” Or maybe “ink spot?” He didn’t know.
Blueblood had not quite been able to get across Hackett Street to his publisher’s office, but no matter. He stood at the crosswalk with a group of other ponies as he waited for the crossing signal. Carriages and other vehicles moved down the street at a leisurely pace. Blueblood would have jaywalked, but he did not feel that it was becoming of a famous author to do so.
A young unicorn mare who was no older than eighteen glanced over at Blueblood then glanced back across the street. But then her eyes widened as she did a double-take and looked back at Blueblood.
“You… are you Doctor Fritz? The author of the ‘Magic Made Simple’ series?” she asked.
“Why yes, I am,” Blueblood responded.
“I thought I recognized you from your photograph in the book! Wow, what an honor. Your books have helped me so much. They don’t teach magic in school, and I thought for the longest time that I was just no good at it. But I had no idea it could be so easy to cast spells!”
“Yes, I get comments like that all the time. The state of magical education in this country is quite lacking. I have tried to convince the Princess to add more magic instruction to public schools, but she has been reluctant.”
“You know the Princess?” The mare asked.
“Yes, I do. Actually, my name isn’t really Doctor Fritz. It’s Prince Blueblood. Doctor Fritz is just my pen name. Though I do have a doctorate; that part is true at least.”
“You’re a prince? Wow! That’s so cool!”
“Yes, I am distantly related to Princess Celestia. Though she and I rarely speak.”
At that moment, Blueblood felt a sheet of paper hit his head. He looked around in confusion as suddenly he saw several other sheets of paper. He looked up and saw a hot air balloon about a hundred feet up, which was dropping dozens of flyers down into the street below. Blueblood levitated one of them up to his eye level. It read:
Tonight At The Canterlot Convention Center!
ONE NIGHT ONLY. 5:00PM-MIDNIGHT.
DOORS OPEN AT 5:00PM SHARP. NO EARLY ADMITTANCE.
ALL AGES, UNICORNS ONLY
All unicorns in Canterlot are invited to a special, magical celebration.
FREE ADMITTANCE
You just walk in the door. It’s that simple. Unicorns only.
FREE FOOD AND DRINKS
Free fine wine and caviar, free pizza and beer, free food for all social classes and tastes! Did I mention that it’s free? All you can eat.
FREE LIVE MUSIC
Music for all tastes and preferences. Guests include:
-Vinyl Scratch (AKA DJ Pon-3)
-Lyra Heartstrings
-The Canterlot Phillyharmonic Orchestra, conducted by maestro Octavia.
SPECIAL GUEST SPEAKERS
-Fashion magnate Photo Finish
-The Flim Flam brothers
-Magical expert and author, Doctor Fritz Blueblood.
If you're a unicorn, don’t miss the event. If you attend, we guarantee you will remember it for the rest of your life.
*****
Prince Blueblood flinched. Nopony had told him that he was supposed to attend this event. He looked over at the mare next to him, who had picked up a flyer of her own.
“Oh, you’re speaking at this thing?” she asked him. “That’s pretty cool. I might have to go just to hear you speak. That and for the free food and music."
Blueblood replied, “Well, I was never informed of this. I have no idea what this event even is. I will have to get in touch with my publisher. Actually, that is what I was just going to do.”
“Okay, well I hope to see you there,” she bade him farewell as they crossed the crosswalk. Blueblood waved good-bye with his hoof and opened the door to Ink Trot Publishing. Maybe he could find out some information from them.
*****
“Well, Mister Blueblood, have you brought your latest chapter in for review and revision?” Prince Blueblood’s publisher, a green mare with an auburn mane, asked.
“Certainly. Here you go,” Prince Blueblood said as he opened his briefcase and levitated a large stack of papers over to her, setting it on her desk.
“Thanks. I’ll have our editors read this over and they’ll give you a call. Is that it for you today?”
“Well, not quite. I was wondering if the marketing director had scheduled me to appear at this unicorn event this evening? I just found out about it when I saw this flyer today, and nopony informed me that I was supposed to be speaking. My agent hasn’t even gotten in touch with me about it.”
He floated the flyer over to the publisher, who briefly scanned the flyer with her eyes.
“Hmmm… nope, it doesn’t look familiar. I have no idea who set this event up, but they aren’t related to us in any way. As far as I know, you aren't booked for anything. But it’s possible that marketing has booked you for an event and hasn't relayed the information on to you yet. We did just have an outage over at our communications department, and they still don’t have everything back up and running again. If I were you, I’d just show up to the event and see if you can get in touch with a manager or something. Just make sure you are ready to speak in any case.
“Well, Okay. I suppose I’ll do just that,” Blueblood said. Though he didn’t mind public speaking and had done it before, and as a teacher had spoken in front of classrooms of hundreds on a daily basis, he did mind the fact that he had no prepared remarks and that nopony had thought to inform him that he was to speak at such a large event.
*****
Twilight Sparkle sat in the middle of her library, busy reading a book. She had been raising the sun from Ponyville for the past few months. She and Princess Celestia had agreed that she would not move to Canterlot and assume the throne until the Princess made the fact of her imminent death public. Until that time, she would stay in Ponyville and move the sun from there, and the general public would be none the wiser.
Her concentration was broken by a shrieking voice.
“TWILIIIIIIIIGHT!”
Twilight’s head jolted up as Pinkie Pie ran into the library.
“What is it, Pinkie?” Twilight asked, certain that there was some sort of emergency that required her attention.
“I need a favor, please.”
“Oh,” Twilight said. She sighed and grimaced in irritation. “Yes, what is it?”
“Can you please, please, please, please, PLEASE turn me into a unicorn?”
Twilight blinked a few times, and then said, “What.”
“Yeah! Turn me into a unicorn, Twilight!”
“Uh, no, sorry. No such spell exists,” Twilight answered. Even if such a spell did exist, Twilight would never dare to risk using it on Pinkie Pie! She was bad enough to handle as an earth pony.
“But you used a spell to give Rarity wings that one time! There’s no spell to give me a horn?”
“No, sorry. Just wings.”
“Awww! Ah well, thanks anyway, Twilight,” Pinkie said, walking towards the door.
“Wait,” said Twilight, and Pinkie stopped in her tracks, “Why do you want to be a unicorn, anyway?”
“Oh, well I found out that there’s this huge, huge, huge, HUGE party up in Canterlot tonight, with free food and live music... but it’s unicorns only! I still wanted to go, so that’s why I was wondering.”
Twilight’s eyebrow raised. A unicorn-only party? She had never heard of such a thing. The only unicorn-exclusive place which she knew of was Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns.
“That’s odd. I wonder why it isn’t open to the other two races,” Twilight mused, “Is it magic-related? Like a magic convention or something?”
“Nope,” Pinkie replied, “It’s just a party. I have the flyer right here if you wanted to look at it. Hey, maybe you might want to go to this thing!”
Pinkie gave the flyer to Twilight, who glanced at it.
“Hmm. That’s quite odd,” said Twilight, “I wonder who is throwing this party?”
“That’s the strange part,” Pinkie replied, “I don’t have any idea!”
“I’ll write the Princess about it,” said Twilight, “Maybe she knows something about this."
*****
Blueblood stood outside of the Canterlot Coliseum. This building was a giant, marble-columned indoor stadium where many events were held. Blueblood knew it well, having attended many academic conventions here. He had even spoken a few times.
Though the time was only five ‘o clock, a line of hundreds of ponies had already formed outside the doors to the event center. They were busy talking amongst themselves, chatting in eager anticipation of this event.
Blueblood walked around past the main entrance towards the side door. When he had been a guest speaker here before at his academic conferences, he had entered through this door. But when he arrived at the door, he was surprised to note that there was nopony at the booth, or nopony at all for that matter.
Strange… he thought. He wondered if he could open the door. He grabbed the door handle with his magic and pulled on it. It wouldn’t budge.
Perhaps he would try the main entrance where the line of ponies stood. He walked over to the line. Several ponies noticed him and pointed, whispering to each other. Apparently quite a few of them knew who he was.
He figured that he might as well go to the front of the line and see if there was anypony at the main booth. He walked over to the glass window and knocked, but nopony answered.
“Yeah, it says no early admittance on the flyer, bro. And hey, do you mind not cutting? I’ve been in line since, like, five this morning,” a young turquoise stallion with a spiked, jet-black mane who was the first in the long line said to Blueblood. The pony levitated a cigarette towards his mouth, which he took a long drag off of. He exhaled the smoke through his nose, which was adorned with a nose ring.
Blueblood responded, “My apologies, ‘bro’, but I am a guest speaker here and I was wondering how exactly I am supposed to enter this establishment.”
“Oh, I don’t know, dude. I haven’t seen anypony come in or out, and I’ve been here all day. I don’t think that it’s, like, access-icable right now,” he said.
“You mean to tell me that since five o’ clock this morning, not a single pony has entered or exited this building?”
“Well, that’s what I said just now,” the pony said, taking a condescending puff of his cigarette.
“You don’t seem like the most attentive type. What if somepony had entered, but you just didn’t notice?”
“Dude, I would’ve noticed. I’m telling you, guy, nopony’s been through that door.”
“What color is the pony in the queue behind you?”
“What?”
“You heard me,” Blueblood said. The red mare standing in line behind the stallion giggled as she was watching this exchange, as did several of the other ponies standing behind her. This was the most entertaining thing that they had seen all day in their long wait.
The young stallion answered, annoyed, “Dude, I don’t know what color they are. What’s with the pop-quiz, professor?”
Blueblood chuckled, “Actually, I am indeed a professor, so I’ll take your little insult as a compliment. The purpose of my question was to find out how observant you are. The pony behind you is red-coated. And apparently, judging by the fact that you have been here since five this morning and haven’t the slightest idea of this, I would say that your assertion that nopony has entered the doors can’t be trusted.”
The red mare cut in, “Um, actually sir, he’s right. I haven’t seen anypony enter these doors either, and I actually have been paying attention.” Several of the other ponies behind her in line nodded in agreement.
“Thank you, young lady,” Prince Blueblood said.
“Hey, that means I was right,” the turquoise stallion said.
“As the broken clock is right twice a day,” Blueblood retorted.
“Are you insulting me or something?”
“No. To be insulted, you would have to first comprehend what was said.”
The ponies in line behind him laughed. Before he could respond, Blueblood teleported back towards the end of the line. Perhaps he could simply get inside along with everypony else and then find somepony inside.
*****
The old grandfather clock atop of the event center struck 5:00. Blueblood expected the line to move slowly, but actually it was quite quick. The line moved about a foot every second, and Blueblood was at the stadium entrance in under fifteen minutes. The only delays were from earth ponies and pegasi who held up the line begging to get in. As the line snaked along and he got closer to the booth, Blueblood could hear their protesting.
“Come on, you have to let us in. This is completely racist and discriminatory of you to not let us in,” a gray pegasus stallion who had been standing in line complained.
The old, grey unicorn mare at the booth simply lowered her spectacles, narrowed her eyes, and asked him, “Do you have a horn?”
“No, but I shouldn’t even need one! Come on, this is unfair! This is deponifying!”
“Sorry, sir, this is a unicorn-only event. The rules are the rules.”
A giant charcoal unicorn stallion wearing sunglasses and a white muscle shirt approached the pegasus. He nervously grinned at the bouncer before flying off.
Not all of the protests appealed to racial fairness. One earth pony mare who had three foals with her begged solely on behalf of her children.
“Please, ma’am, you have to let us in to get some free food! We’ve traveled here all the way from Dodge Junction! The drought has destroyed our entire crop and my children are starving. I just brought them here so they could get a solid meal in their bellies.”
The old unicorn mare responded, “If you can get one of the unicorn attendees to go in, grab some food for you, and bring it back out, then you are more than welcome to do so, but panhandling is not allowed on the premises of this establishment. Please take your begging out to the street.”
The unicorn bouncer approached the mare and her children, and they quickly scurried away.
Finally, it was Blueblood’s turn to enter. He spoke to the unicorn mare at the entrance, asking. “So, I am supposed to be speaking here; it said on the flyer. I am Doctor Fritz.”
The old mare looked at him, and a look of what Blueblood thought to be worry spread over her face. The pupils of her green eyes dilated for a fraction of a second.
She responded, “Oh, um, okay. Well, here, let me just get you your horn bracelet that indicates that you are over age 21 and legally able to consume alcohol…”
“That won’t be necessary, all I need is a backstage pass so I can go and give my speech,” Blueblood said, “I don’t drink before speaking anyway.”
“Back, um, yes… backstage. I’m sorry, but it says that you are not on the list.”
“Not on the list? That’s outrageous. I am Doctor Fritz, and my name was on the flyer that was used to promote this little event of yours. Which, by the way, I only found out about through the flyer itself. You didn’t even contact my publisher or my agent properly. Or me, for that matter.”
“Sorry, sir. I guess... well, I guess I can let you in as a normal attendee if you want, though,” she said.
“Oh, well, I suppose,” Blueblood said. Perhaps when they called his name he could simply walk onto the stage and begin speaking anyway. The old mare floated a hornband over to Blueblood, who fitted it over his horn and walked in the door. What unprofessionalism they had exhibited! Maybe he would have a drink, after all.
He walked in the door and down a long hallway leading to the colosseum. He reached a second set of doors, guarded by two unicorn stallion bouncers. They quickly patted him down and then let him through the second set of doors.
As he walked into the stadium, he saw hundreds of ponies standing around talking, eating, dancing, and listening to the music.
The first thing that struck Blueblood was how quiet the room was. He has never been in such a large stadium for an event that was this quiet. The band was the regular volume a band should be for a large stadium, but there was very little idle chit-chat among the partygoers.
Blueblood walked around, observed the ponies, and saw that several of them were speaking telepathically to one another, as magically-trained unicorns are able to do when they touch horns. He was quite surprised, as he almost never saw this form of communication outside of his own school. Perhaps his book, which gave instructions on telepathic communication, had something to do with it. He recalled a passage from his second book, Magic Every Unicorn Can And Should Use:
"Telepathy has traditionally been seen as a solely ‘intimate’ form of communication, which would be an inappropriate method for unrelated unicorns to use to converse with one another. This is a false notion.
"While telepathy can indeed be intimate, as can regular speech, it is by its NATURE no more intimate than simply speaking. As with regular speech, it is how you use it which determines how intimate or non-intimate that it is. And as with regular speech, you alone choose what information to convey and what to keep hidden. Nopony can 'read your mind' with telepathy; this is nothing but a false rumor which has hindered telepathy’s widespread adoption. The only thing 'intimate' about telepathy is that, unlike speech, it can only be used to convey a message to one pony at a time and can only be used at short range.
"But what does set telepathy apart from speaking is not its intimacy, but its efficiency and effectiveness. Only with telepathy can you have a conversation with someone where it would otherwise be impractical, such as in a quiet library or a loud tavern. Only with telepathy can you be assured that your message reaches only its intended receiver; eavesdropping on a telepathic conversation is impossible.
"Only with telepathy can you convey images rather than words. A picture is worth a thousand words, is it not? Indeed, telepathy is far more efficient than speech in that way. Why take minutes to describe a scene or event to somepony when you can telepathically relay it to them in seconds?
"With telepathy blind unicorns can see, mute unicorns can speak, deaf unicorns can hear, so it is far more egalitarian and inclusive than regular speech and sensory information in who may participate in it. All one needs is a horn. Why selfishly exclude the disabled from the world of communication and knowledge simply because of an illogical cultural taboo?
“'But Doctor Fritz,' I can hear you say, 'Telepathy is advanced magic! I can’t possibly learn it!' That is another preconception that I hope to put to rest with this book. Simply because you were never taught it in school does not mean that it is advanced. Nopony would call riding a bicycle 'advanced,' even though no schools teach it. But if you don’t practice cycling, and nopony else you know practices cycling or shows you how, then it may certainly SEEM advanced. But it is not."
Blueblood smiled at the thought that his simple books might have altered social norms in such a short time frame.
He walked over to the bar and scanned the menu. He was surprised at the wide variety of drinks, and took a minute to decide. Finally, he settled on a sherry. The barpony poured him a glass of it, which Blueblood took a sip of. It was some of the most delicious wine that he had ever drank. He reached into his suit pocket to pull out his wallet, but the barpony put his hoof up.
“That won’t be necessary sir; everything is free here this evening.”
Blueblood was quite shocked. Whoever was running this event must have had a great deal of money to throw around. This wine must have been at least twenty years old, and they were giving it out for free! If only they could use some of that money for a better events coordinator and planner, he thought.
*****
Spike belched as a fiery scroll emerged from his mouth. Twilight opened it up and read aloud to Pinkie,
"Dear Twilight Sparkle, I am unfamiliar with this unicorns-only event you asked me about. I was not invited, and did not plan this event myself. However, it does sound like fun, if not a bit exclusionary in nature. Perhaps you and your friends could go anyway? If they say no because not all of your friends are unicorns, just tell them that you're a Princess. I'm sure they will respectfully oblige. Sincerely, Princess Celestia."
"Ooh, I never even thought of that!" Pinkie said, "I keep forgetting that you're a Princess now. They'll have to let us in; you're royalty and we're your friends!"
"Okay, I guess that's a legitimate strategy," said Twilight, "Worst case scenario, Rarity can just make us some fake horns like she made us fake wings back in Cloudsdale."
Twilight and Pinkie went around Ponyville and they rounded up their other four friends, who were all interested in going to the event. Rarity used her magic to quickly fashion some fake horns out of papier-mâché, just in case they needed to sneak in.
"Well, we may be uninvited guests," said Rarity, "But with these fake horns, we'll be the life of the party!"
With that, the six ponies boarded a train to Canterlot.