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// An unexpected affection 
// Story: The End of the Beginning 
// by Uncle Knot 
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To my devoted and forgiving Princess Celestia, in the 4th year of thy reign, my 11th letter

Thou hast humbled me sorely.  Not by thy words, but by thy affections.  

There I be, in the hinterlands of the north, without fuel for fire so necessary for our correspondence.  When lo did I behold a group of pegasi flying across the firmament.  I knew then that thou had decreed my fate to end me beneath the falling snow.  The pegasi flew overhead and then descended and took up station round about me.  They said nothing and awaited solemnly.  So I too did await and listened.  From the south I could hear the rumbling thunder of thy army galloping.  Their hooves stirring the light snow upon the ground, shaking it up into the air, forming a cloud of crystal staining the horizon.  Thee and thy army charging were a glorious sight to behold; pennants flying like tongues of fire, nostrils snorting steam like volcanoes, clinking armor sounding like some jamboree of falling nails.  

You brought them to a halt before me, step down from thy chariot, and approached.  As I bowed to you, ye did the unexpected.  Ye stood beside me, and face thy army.  Commanding the pegasi to fall in, you called for a review.  Pegasi to the right, a blessing of unicorns to the left, and two herds of earth ponies with chariots in the center.  Then addressing the army, you said “An error un-corrected, becomes a mistake”.  Then turning to me, ye had me read my letters to you.  
Reading the first letter to your army, I noticed some raised eyebrows among the ranks.  In the second thru ninth letters we heard a gasp, and with the reading of what I thought to be my final letter, the grinding of teeth.  But that stopped because of you.  You move close to me, leaned against me, and dipped you head and neighed approvingly.  

Then standing firm, you addressed the army and pronounced “Our errors are corrected”.   Then remounting thy chariot, ye turned the army south and marched away, leaving me to ponder thy act of affection.  

I did not know how cold I was until I felt thy body lean against me.  I will not return to Canterlot with thee, for thou have become the sun.  To look long upon thee, I would either fall in love or go blind, and since I am loveless, I do not yield to become a blind pony, nor a pony who can not return thy affection.

My investigations into the disappearance of ‘it’ (the Crystal Empire) have been fruitless.  An inquiry amongst the few inhabitants proves even more disturbing.  They without exception have totally forgotten ‘it’.  I have assigned some good here, and they in turn will keep me informed on any unusual events.  ‘It’ remains a mystery, a nagging sore in my memory.  Be of good cheer, ‘it’ will be a place of regular interest to me.  I have come to conclude that the more we use the words ‘the Crystal Empire’ the more we are forgetting.  Some spell must exist that is erasing our memories.  While calling it ‘it’ before was a convenience, now calling ‘it’ ‘it’, has become an imperative.

I send this letter in gratitude of the affection you have shared with me, however unworthy or incapable of my returning that affection.  Also, my generosity, trustfulness, kindness, humor, and loyalty are continuously extended, sincerely, Sumponeigh Knot Yew