//------------------------------// // Home // Story: Her Own Pony // by Jorofrarie //------------------------------// Two days had passed since Strand’s… incident, and already it was seeming to feel like a bad memory, or maybe even a dream. Her recovery had been swift, and all too soon she was out of the hospital and in the care of her new friends. She had been slightly surprised, however, to find that she still wasn’t identical to Pinkie. One perfect white streak had set itself down the side of her mane and her coat, going all the way to the end of her tail. She couldn’t see herself without straining, but as a method of identification it was unmatched. And so she had spent a relatively uneventful two days pottering around Canterlot. Relatively being the key word. The thought of Rolling Stone and his band, as well as Octavia and her threat of the guards was still present. The Octavia part had managed to resolve itself naturally, with Fancy simply taking himself, Strand, as well as the Elements of Harmony to visit her. Much tea was had, names exchanged, and a threat of incarceration lifted. A good day in all. The Stone matter had been slightly more difficult. Strand had tried to be as discreet around Fancy Pants as possible, as it wasn’t her place to tell anyone Stone’s secret, but she had managed to secure a private audience with the Princesses, mainly due to the influence of her new friends in high places. They had been understanding as the circumstances had allowed, and had organised a… diplomatic of meeting of sorts between the changelings and the ponies. And so Strand found herself seated across the table from Stone, who was sitting in his mismatched pony form. He was also shaking, which for someone as suave as Stone was incredibly surprising. “Strand, I… I don’t think that I can do this,” he said softly. “I’m just not ready for it.” “You listen to me, Rolling Stone. Outside is a pony that you’ve told me is one of your oldest friends. A pony that has done more for you than anyone else. You can at the very least show him the respect of telling him the truth.” Rolling Stone, the self proclaimed best travelling musician in the land, looked at Strand nervously. “But what will he think of me? When he finds out how I’ve been lying to him?” Strand smiled. “If he’s as good of a friend as you say he is, then he’ll forgive you in a heartbeat, and accept you for who you are. I mean, he did it for me! You’re in almost the same situation.” Stone sighed, looking around the caravan for support from his fellow musicians and performers. All of them were sitting as changelings, and all of them were watching their discussion intensely. They knew that the relations between ponies and changelings were, to put it simply, utterly nonexistent. For the two species to come together and become friends? Utterly unheard of. Especially with the mindset that many equestrians had that changelings were nothing more than mindless bugs, ruled over by a tyrannical overlord of a queen. The friendship of a (decently) well known travelling performer and one of the most influential ponies in the world would be groundbreaking. The leader of the changeling band hung his head. “Well, let’s get this out of the way. You’ll be with me, right Strand?” Strand smiled. “You’ll always have help from me, you know that. Especially after you helped me.” Stone sighed again and rose from his seat. He walked towards the door, pausing momentarily before opening it and stepping outside. Strand followed him through. On the other side was an assortment of ponies. Both of the royal diarchy stood next to Fancy Pants, who was watching with a dignified and restrained expression. Nearby stood the six Elements of Harmony, all in various stages of excitement and support. Strand could see that Stone was starting to shake a little, and put a steadying hoof on his shoulder. He looked at her with gratitude, straightened his back, and firmly trotted over to the awaiting dignitaries. Fancy’s expression of upper class dignity didn’t waver, even as his friend walked closer and closer. “Hello there, Fancy Pants,” Stone said, putting on a facade of properness. “It is good to see you again.” Fancy tilted his head in recognition. “As it is to see you.” “So… I imagine that you know why you’re here today.” “Yes,” was all Fancy said. “And I also imagine that you now know that I’m a changeling, right?” Fancy seemed to hesitate. “Yes, I know that too. And there’s only two things I wanted to say.” “Oh?” Stone said, surprise in his voice. “One,” Fancy started. “I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed that you would have lied to me for all these years. I thought that we were as thick as thieves, but then I find out that not only you, but the whole band are changelings? I can understand the political reasoning, but to keep a secret like that from your best friend for so many years…” Rolling Stone’s ears drooped more and more as Fancy went on, his head lowering. Fancy Pants shook his head. “And two. “You’re an idiot.” “Wha-?” Stone perked up, his expression one of surprise. “To think that after all we’re gone through, those years that we spent travelling together, living together, performing together, to think that I’d just give you up? That is the most idiotic thing I have ever heard. And believe me, I’ve heard many idiotic things while living in Canterlot.” Fancy broke into a cheeky grin. “I mean, come on. Remember the playhouse in Stalliongrad? The fifth day that we were there?” “Oh yeah, I remember that one…” Stone said wistfully. “Good times.” “And all of the parasprites ate the hats off of the noble’s heads! Not sure how Copy managed to train them, but he did a sure-fire job of it!” The two stallion’s laughter continued for a few more seconds before dying down. Finally, Fancy Pants said, “Stone, you’re my friend, and that’ll never change. Although, I don’t suppose that you could…” Fancy Pants petered out, leaving the question hanging. Stone sighed. “Alright, just for you.” A burst of emerald green fire engulfed him, leaving nothing but a blackened looking bug-like creature in its place. Silence engulfed the ponies, only to be broken by Fancy pants chuckling. “Damn, now you look even uglier than you did!” “Oh, shove it up your plot, you stuffy old aristocrat!” Stone retorted. “So, mind if I go to meet the band? Properly this time?” Fancy said, still laughing under his breath. “Not at all,” Stone replied, leading his old companion away towards the caravan. Strand stood in place nervously, not sure if the Princesses wanted something more from the meeting. That feeling melted away upon seeing the satisfied grins spreading across both deity's faces. It seemed they wanted old friendships to rekindle as well. ** One week later. A very nervous Strand could hear the voices of many, many ponies mixing together in a raucous cacophony of conversation. She couldn’t manage to pick out any particular words amongst the crowd, but the general gist of it was that ponies were curious. Very curious. Of course, there was a reason for such an emotion. It was not every day that the humble town of Ponyville was called to attention at the town hall - although, considering the events that had happened in the past, that tradition was probably on the way out. And so it was that Strand found herself shaking slightly as she stood in one of the slight cavities behind the main stage, listening to the frenzy that the town had worked itself into. Well, frenzy might have been a slight overstatement, but sometimes it just feels that way. Especially when you are the reason that a whole town finds itself watching an empty stage. Strand jumped as a hoof rested itself on her shoulder. She managed to settle herself when she heard a calming voice, however. “Five minutes,” the voice said soothingly. “It’ll be fine, just stick to the notes that I gave you.” The (new) pink pony turned to find no one else but Twilight Sparkle looking at her, kindness in her eyes. Upon seeing Strand’s nervousness, she sighed. “I know it’s a little frightening,” she said, “I’ve had to go through this same kind of thing myself before. Although probably not under such… unique circumstances.” Twilight lifted her hoof and tapped it on the floor softly, looking like she wanted to say something else. “Get ready, Strand, we’re about to start,” a voice called out from somewhere to their right. Strand gave Twilight a quick glance before turning to move away to the side of the stage. She had almost reached the edge of the curtain when Twilight called out. “Strand! Wait a moment!” Strand paused, looking over her shoulder. Twilight was looking at the ground shyly, tapped a hoof rapidly. “Just, before you go on stage. I wanted to say…” The purple librarian of Ponyville, and Element of Magic took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. “I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through. I’m sorry that it was because of me that you were forced to go to Canterlot. And most of all, I’m sorry that because of the way I treated you, and the way that I chased you, you almost died.” Twilight almost looked like she was going to cry. “I just… I was just doing what I thought was right at the time. I thought that you were some evil thing that was trying to ruin Ponyville. I thought that we were in danger. I’m…” At this, a small drop of moisture did drop from Twilight’s face, plopping on the ground quietly. Strand moved towards Twilight and slowly but surely swept her front hooves around the shaking pony, holding her tight. “Twilight,” she started, looking for the right words. “I forgive you. I forgave you long ago. In fact, the day I recovered I forgave you.” Twilight lifted her head and looked at her in confusion. “You did?” Strand nodded. “Of course I did. To be honest, if I hadn’t been running from you all, I wouldn’t have met the ponies I did, and things probably would have panned out a lot differently.” Twilight nodded slowly. “That’s… true. I guess. But I still feel guilty for chasing you like some common thing from the Everfree. I never stopped to think that you were a real, living pony!” “But you had no way of knowing! To you, I could just have been one of the…” Strand suppressed a slight shiver, “others. But that doesn’t matter.” Strand looked at Twilight, a firm expression on her face. “I never blamed any of you. I mean, if I did, I probably wouldn’t have even stayed to learn who you were, and to become friends. You and the other girls are pretty much the only friends I have! To think that I would blame you, let alone hate you, is stupid. You’re being stupid Twilight.” Twilight let out a small giggle. “I guess that’s true. But I still had to apologise. I truly am sorry for what we did to you, what I did to you.” “Okay, we’re ready. Come alongside the curtain and the Mayor will give you your cue.” The same voice from earlier called out. Strand glanced at Twilight. “Looks like it’s my time. I’d better get over there. Will I see you in the crowd?” Twilight nodded. “We’ll be cheering for you.” ** The silence was a lot more intimidating than she had expected. No, not just the silence. The silence mixed with the expectation of many ponies as they watched her, waiting for her to say something. Come on, she thought, look at your cards. Read what’s on them. Just breathe, and read. Strand took a shuddering breath and looked up, staring into the crowd. She could see many unfamiliar faces. Some were looking at her with curiosity, some with boredom, and some with something border lining suspicion, as if they recognised her to not be the real Pinkie Pie. Strand looked up slightly, locking her eyes on the white streak through her mane, the same one that she had seen upon waking up in the hospital in Canterlot after her ‘freedom’. If there was one thing to differentiate her and the ‘real’ Pinkie at a glance, it would probably be that streak. Another breath and her eyes locking on the paper sitting on the stand in front of her. The words on them seemed to swim on the page, mixing together letters, and punctuation marks, and the occasional number. She looked to her left. The Mayor was sitting, looking at her with an urging look in her eyes. She waved a hoof, beckoning her to start speaking. But Strand’s mouth was dry, and her tongue parched. She couldn’t read even if she tried. She looked up at the crowd again. They were still looking at her, someone starting to become a bit more impatient. But she could spy the few odd ponies in the crowd, the ones that were giving her an unusual look. Encouragement. She could see Fancy Pants standing there in his fine suit, a stunning mare practically draped over his back with an excited glint in her eyes as she smiled up at Strand. She had only seen Fleur once or twice, but from those few run-ins, she had figured out that Fleur was one of the nicest ponies she had ever met. Strand looked on. She could see Pinkie Pie, and Rarity, and Applejack. Rainbow Dash, Twilight, and - barely - Fluttershy. They all had huge smiles on their face, bar Rainbow who was waving a hoof in circles and mumbling something to Fluttershy, who was nodding slightly. Near the edge of the crowd was a ragtag group of incredibly odd looking ponies in some of the strangest fashion she had ever seen. At the head of the pack was none other than Rolling Stone, the friendly leader of the Changeling travelling pack. And all of them were smiling at her. A huge surge of warmth shot through Strand, putting a slight smile on her face. She looked at the notes in front of her, and suddenly they didn’t seem so daunting anymore. She shuffled the front page and started to read. “Good morning Ponyville. My name is Strand, and I am new to this town.” A murmur of laughter ran through the crowd at the incredibly formal sounding beginning. She continued. “As many of you know, there was an incident just over a week ago involving clones of one of your townsfolk, a baker at Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie Pie.” Some of the crowd nodded in agreement, while some seemed to understand where this was going. “I was one of those clones,” Strand continued. “Shortly after the seemingly last clone was dispatched by none other than your own Twilight Sparkle in a great display of problem solving,” she looked up to see a few of the ponies around the aforementioned pony looking at her, while Twilight blushed, “I boarded a train to Canterlot.” “Upon reaching the city, I was taken in a shown around the city by none other than Fancy Pants, who was an incredibly generous host, and completely understanding.” What she didn’t mention was that Fancy Pants hadn’t even known she was a clone. “After three days, I was taken to meet the Princesses in their castle. There, an agreement was made, and as a part of that I am to live and work in Ponyville. The Princesses decided that it was for the best that you all know what happened with the clones, and me, so they talked to the Mayor and scheduled this meeting.” Strand turned to the last page in her small leaflet. “I hope that in the future, I can get to know you all better, and that you will come to accept me as a Ponyvillian… Ponyvillen… Pony… As someone that lives alongside you.” Strand stepped back from the podium, and the Mayor stepped up to take her place. “And now,” the Mayor began, “please give Strand a warm welcome to her new life in Ponyville!” The sound of stomping hooves and warm cheering lit up Strand’s heart, making her grin increase in size. In the far distance she could see her doppelgänger leap into the air and make some sort of exclamation, to which half the crowd groaned in amusement. As Pinkie shot off away from the crowd, confetti and streamers blowing into the air, Strand could faintly make out a cry of, “A PARTY!” ** The sun had long since set, but the festivities had yet to die down. Music blared from the live ragtag performers. A few hours earlier, they had pulled up their huge caravan next to an open area in the town, and unloaded an utterly ridiculous amount of instrument and equipment, all under the watchful eye of Rolling Stone. The glittering light of the bonfire in the centre of the square was offset by the dull twinkling of the stars overhead, and the slightly more bright lights of the hanging lanterns that were strung above street level between the houses. How they had all been set up at short notice was still a mystery, but as with most things that involve Pinkie, it was better not to ask. Most of the town was still up and partying, some having gone back home to put their children to bed. That didn’t stop a huge amount of ponies from laughing and yelling and dancing along to the music. Strand had even spied an ancient looking green pony, missing almost all of her teeth and only having a few white hairs, doing a fast paced jig with a group of young looking fillies and colts, all of which looked like they were having the time of their lives. Not everyone was into the dancing, however. Towards the edge of the square, Strand could make out Fluttershy and Fleur, both sitting, surrounded by curious woodland critters, both with huge smiles on their faces, and both having a very animated discussion. They quickly burst into laughter as one of the bunnies around them tried to show off to his friends, but instead landed on his head. Strand looked further, seeing Fancy Pants and Rarity chatting about the finer points of what she could only imagine to be high-society. Both were looking happy and content just talking. Towards the dancers, Strand could see Pinkie and Rainbow Dash, and even Applejack, all in an incredibly fast paced dancing competition. Rainbow was doing some sort of breakdance; Applejack was doing something approaching a cross between a square dance and a jig, while Pinkie was… Well. She was doing something. If it could be thought of as dancing, then that was fine. Strand could make neither heads nor tails of it. And, of course, overseeing all of this was the beaming Rolling Stone. It was understandable that the changeling in disguise loved to see ponies having a great time, but this was the expression of a pony that could die at that very instant, and wouldn’t have cared, because they would have died happy. Considering how often he travelled the world – well, according to the stories he told her, at least – he was probably happy to be back in the land he called home, performing for the ponies he called friends, and doing what he loved. All of the other disguised changelings looked like they were having a great time, and someone of the actual performers among them were mingling with the audience. Some blowing fire, some juggling, and some doing the odd magic trick or too. Heck, some were just talking. The town knew who, and what, they were anyway, so there was no nervousness here. Everyone was just being… themselves. Of course, the reveal of the changeling hadn’t gone as smoothly as they had all hoped. Certain townsfolk had been slightly resistant to the idea of changelings among them. They all understood in the end, of course, but there is a fine line between logic and emotion. However, after the town had gotten over their initial resistance, the two species had gotten along as any one pony would with another. And, of course, there was the run-in with Octavia. The grey mare was still slightly angry, and more than a bit suspicious, but a talk with the Princesses had flattened things all out. Besides, she got to meet with the real Pinkie at the same time, so everyone was settled. Strand was interrupted from her reverie by Twilight tapping her again. The purple unicorn was looking at her with concern in her eyes. “Aren’t you going to get in the party?” “No,” Strand said, “I think I prefer just to watch and see what happens. Noise was never really my thing, you know?” Twilight nodded. “Yeah, I know that feeling. Give me a good book any day over a loud and rambunctious party.” She shook her head. “That wasn’t the reason I wanted to talk to you, though. I think I made a bit of a breakthrough with the cause of all of this!” Strand’s ears perked up. “Really? So you made progress on that idea you had?” “Of course,” Twilight scoffed sarcastically. “That idea earlier this week was only a rough one. I’ve done a lot more research on the mirror pool since then, and I think I came up with an idea. “From the scriptures, the pool was based around the desire for something. I managed to copy down Pinkie’s rhyme, and it went along the lines of, ‘Where the brambles are thickest, There you will find,” yadda yadda yadda… ‘And into her own reflection she stared, Yearning for one whose reflection she shared,’ “I ignored the rest for my theory, as it seems to be for show, but from what I can see the mirror pool is all about a single yearning idea. I did some more research, and I came up with something slightly disturbing. It uses soul magic to literally take an imprint of a pony’s soul, and then pastes a one dimensional image of a yearning on top of that! “The problem with this kind of magic, however, is that the soul starts to deteriorate after a short amount of time. I saw this in the other clones. They broke down and lost focus of the imprinted desire, become slightly haywire.” Twilight narrowed her eyes and poked a hoof at Strand’s face. “Something about you however,” Twilight said slowly. “Something happened, and it broke that mould. You still had that imprinted desire, but it was shattered in some way. I theorised that because Pinkie had based all of the clones off of a single original, they were all linked to that first one. And I think you were that first one. “Sending the others back caused a magical resonance throughout the mirror pool, as it tried to compensate for the linkage of the souls that it had imprinted. It couldn’t properly put the others away until you were there, too, because you were the master copy… in a way. While, according to Pinkie, she had still created some others, there was a big enough whiplash that a huge quantity disappearing at once caused the mirror pool try to regain some stability. It wanted to have all of the imprinted souls back. It wanted you. The pool behaved in a way almost akin to that of a truly sentient being, and that was... slightly disturbing.” Twilight paused for breath. “From what I saw, and heard, you were losing your coat colour, and Pinkie’s mark. All of the identity that the soul was giving you was disappearing away to the pool. To be honest, I’m surprised that you didn’t disappear completely. It’s truly remarkable, and I’ve never heard of anything like this happening.” Something stuck in Strand’s mind. “But what about when I woke up in the hospital?” Twilight rolled her eyes. “I was getting to that. From what I’ve concluded so far, I think you… Well, how to put this. I think you grew your own soul. Wait, grew?” Twilight rubbed a hoof against her cheek. “There’s got to be a better phrasing. Spawned? Stole? No, not at all…” Strand watched as Twilight mumbled to herself. “Uhh, Twilight? You there?” “Hmm… no, can’t say that. That’d be a paradox for the Dark Souls…” “Twilight!” “THE DARKSIGN IS AMONG US!” Twilight yelled, startled slightly. Strand watched in concern. “Oh, sorry there,” Twilight said. “Was thinking of something else.” Strand gave her a deadpan look. “You were saying about my soul?” “Oh, of course. Well, the blast I hit you with in the interrogation chamber was the same one that was designed to send the imprinted souls back to the pool.” Twilight paused. “And that’s exactly what I think it did.” Strand froze. “Wait, what?” Twilight sighed. “That’s what I’ve concluded with the evidence so far. It seems that the soul you had was banished to the pool. But you already had something else. You’d made your own soul. You literally turned yourself into a separate entity from Pinkie, soul and everything. I don’t know how it happened, as it seems to break every rule of soul magic, but it did.” Strand grinned softly. “Seems that the little bit of Pinkie that I had in me payed off.” “Huh?” Twilight said. “What do you mean?” “From what I’ve seen, you don’t question Pinkie. If something impossibly happens, just go with it, don’t ask questions. Especially if it ends for the better.” Twilight groaned. “Not this again. I’ve already had enough trouble trying to explain Pinkie Pie, I don’t need more!” Twilight stamped a hoof on the ground. “I still won’t give up! I will explain how this happened!” Strand grinned. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” Twilight sighed and sat down on a nearby bench. “I shouldn’t be trying to disprove theories anyway. You survived, and you’re here, so I guess that’s all that matters now.” A small smile spread slowly across Twilight’s face as she watched all of her friends having what looked like the times of their lives. That grin slowly but surely turned cheeky. “How about we join them? Can’t have our friends having all of the fun, can we now?” Strand’s breath caught slightly at that. Our friends. Yeah, I think I can get used to hearing that a bit more. She nodded to the unicorn, who grabbed one of Strand’s hooves and pulled her into the fray of dancing ponies. As Strand looked onto the whirling blurs of colours and ponies, all of them laughing, Strand realised something. She might have been in Ponyville for the last week or so, but it was only now that she was truly feeling home. The End