I walked out of the small boardroom, not very awake, and less aware with what just happened. Class had just ended, and most of us look stressed or tired, its nice to know I’m not alone, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Art interpretation, and the value of one's opinion was the name of the lecture, and I disagreed with what he had to say.
“Fascinating!” Twilight said as I returned to the room I shared with several others. “I never thought of it that way.”
“Thought of what?” I asked, grabbing my satchel and room key. “That you’d never have to deal with that?”
“No, that art is that subjective,” she explained. “Weren’t you paying attention? I didn’t hear you think about the girls in the class.”
“No interest,” I said as I returned down the stairs, and left just as the girls came up. “I just don’t agree with him.”
“Well neither do I, but I think you might be taking it to an extreme,” Twilight noted.
“I didn’t say anything,” I replied with, my tone swift and unwavering.
“I can read your mind, Daniel, I know what you were thinking,”
“So what was I thinking then?”
“That art has a purpose, and a point to make, and that one point is the only point it is making,” she explained as I boarded the bus to the train station. “The very idea that something could mean something else, or have two points, is a notion that you cannot accept.”
“I just don’t think people give enough credit to the artist,” I said, with a soft voice. It took me a few seconds to realize I had spoken aloud, and was getting looks from people on the bus.
“That’s the first time you messed up, and you and I have been talking like this for four days,” Twilight noted. “You ok?”
“It’s a topic I get passionate about,” I said, ending that discussion. “People focus too much on what they think, and not the point. Each piece of art, has a point to its existence; even if it just how one views a sunset, it still has a point.”
Twilight said nothing, and so I presumed she didn’t wish to say anything more, for fear of more looks being given to me. I confess, I was relieved by what she did. Soon, we left the bus at the train station and boarded a train to Kings Cross. I had taken this journey already, so I knew where I needed to be. The train was crowded, so Twilight jumped onto my back, and rode on it. She always seemed a bit happier when ever she was on my back, it was nice to feel her warm breath, which wasn’t bad smelling, on the my cheek and neck.
“Comfy?” I asked her, a smirk on my face.
“Beats walking,” she said, though I could feel her grin in my mind. “I used to ride on my brothers back when I was younger.”
“That must have been nice.”
“I was just a filly at the time,” she added. “So I couldn’t walk a long time, like he could.”
“Sounds like he’s a big guy. Well stallion, but you know what I mean,” noted.
“Yeah, he’s in the military. Looks after an entire empires military now.”
“Impressive family, your parents must be proud,” I added.
“They are. They’ve always let us do what we wanted to do, and let us have fun doing it,” Twilight explained.
She continued to tell me about her family, for the next ten minutes. Thankfully, this train ride had to be the longest one on the entire system as it seemed to take forever to reach Kings Cross, with or without a pony on ones back, telling them all about their family and how her mom was an editor and had been apart of a best selling novel series out in Equestria. Or how her dad was an accountant and amateur astronomer. He sounded like a cool guy, actually. I’d love to have met him.
“Now arriving at Kings Cross, St. Pancreas,” the electric British lady said. For National, and International lines…” She faded away into the noise as I left the train, and I didn’t care to listen. I was staying right here in London for now.
“Wow, lot of people,” Twilight noted. “Where are we?”
“Welcome, to Kings Cross,” I said, a smile in my mind. “We’re going to the Library.”
“I’m sorry, did you say library?” Twilight asked, racing though the question.
“No, I said the Library,” I replied. “As in, one of the most important Libraries in the world, the National Library of the United Kingdom, and a place of near 14 million books. That, library.”
There was no one near us, so Twilight ended her invisibility and jumped off my back, flying to look me right in the eye.
“You’re serious, right?”
“Super serious,” I said, adding a nod in, my lips flat.
“I need to see this,” she stated.
“You need to see this,” I replied.
“I want to see this,” she stated.
“Hop on my back,” I said, turning away from her. “You’ve got a lot to learn, and I’ve got a lot to share.”
She did as I suggested, and we walked in, with her activating her invisibility moments after. The building was large and empty, save for a donation box, and a few people walking around. I could see a cafe in the back and a few more people around that. It was mostly empty, and I was ok with that. However, something caught my eye like none other I had seen since I came to London. A large book, made of what looked like bronze. Attached to it, was a chain and ball. It was massive, enough to hold several people sitting.
“Books hold us captive,” Twilight said softly, not in my mind, but into my ear.
“In this case, by the balls, or rather: ball” I replied, not missing a beat. She just sighed, and we moved in. “Seriously though, books capture us and hold us tight. The information controls, and commands us to action. We are decided on by what we read.”
“You just redeemed yourself,” Twilight said. “For now.” I just laughed for a few moments.
“Hop off, and go into that room,” I said, moving my head as we stood outside a small room. it wasn’t labelled, but I knew what it was. It was the room that might change her perspective on us, and her home. I was a little nervous, to say the least.
“Ohh, I have to walk?” she whined, trotting in. I ignored her change in action from what she said with an eye roll.
“This is the Magna Carta,” I said, pointing at a piece of paper behind a glass screen. “It’s almost 800 years old.”
“That piece of paper?” she asked. “Must be important.”
“Only the most,” I noted, adding a nod for extra measure. “It’s a foundational piece of paper.”
“How do you mean?”
“No freeman shall be imprisoned, or in anyway other way be harmed without a jury of his peers,” I read from the translation beside the document. “Do you know what that means?”
“No.”
“The ruler of the land cannot harm anyone, unless a jury of one’s peers, friends, countrymen, or equals say that person can be harmed. You cannot be accuser, judge, jury, and executioner,” I explained.
“You mean, you cannot be hurt, just because the leader says so?” she asked, eyes going wide.
“That is correct, this is the document that gave us that, well not really, but it did play a part in ensuring the legacy of that idea,” I added.
Twilight sat down, the Magna Carta before her, though she could barely see it as the table was taller than her. She stared at the ground, and then looked up at me for a few moments, before returning to the ground.
“It means one must be charged of a crime, or let go,” I further explained. “If that helps.”
She said nothing, nor did she nod at all, but I think it did as she stood.
“Can we move on?” she asked, pleading me with large purple eyes. I gave her mane a ruffle and nodded with a smile.
“I’ve got something musical to show you,” I said and lead her out of the room and to a one of the many items behind a glass window.
“This,” I said, pointing at an open book.
“That?”
“Forever, and ever, Hallelujah, Hallelujah,” I sang, somehow on tune. “King of Kings. Forever, and ever, Hallelujah, Hallelujah. And Lord of Lords. And He shall reign forever and ever.”
Twilight just looked at me, with a puzzled look, and I just laughed at bit. “Its one of my languages most popular musicals.”
“What’s it called?” she asked, quicker then I expected, but I paid it little mind.
“Handels Messiah, but its just actually called Messiah, most just call it Handel’s Messiah to different from others and to honour that who wrote it,” I explained.
“Weird,” she noted. “Equestria has something similar.”
“What’s it called?”
“Hoofel’s Magic,” Twilight said. “And what you just sang, sounds like a butchered version of it’s famous chorus; Fear It.”
“Wait, you have an entire musical composition dedicated to magic?” I asked, a little shocked.
“Yeah, many, actually. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna don’t like the idea of musical praises being given to them, so they supported them decided to magic,” Twilight explained. “I take it yours isn’t?”
“I, guess it is?” I asked no one, save myself. “No, that sounds rude, its a story one. Story of a saviour for humankind. A powerful being who loves, and died for us.” Twilight raised an eye at the one, but I kept going. “It wants to share the story of that figure, and how good triumphs over evil, in the end.”
“That’s weird,” Twilight said, after several moments of silence. “Nice, but weird.”
I laughed for a bit, it would sound weird to people who didn’t understand. I couldn’t imagine what it sounded like to being who wasn’t of this world.
“It’s more in-depth than that, obviously, but its famous,” I said with smile.
“I’ll be sure to let Princess Celestia know that Hoofel’s Magic, exists here as something that tells the story of good beating evil,” Twilight said with a smile. “How old is this song?”
“270 odd years,” I said, glancing over at the book. “Yeah, something like that.”
“It’s a shame she never heard it when she was here, she always liked Magic,” Twilight noted, looking around the area of the library at all the old tomes.
“It’s got a lot of subtle references, so it might have been hard to understand,” I noted, following her and looking at documents as well. An original Jane Austen, T.E Lawrence's shopping list for the Arabs.
“It’s not about getting it, its about hearing talent. She loves to hear passion in one's voice when doing an art. Celestia always said it gave her job meaning when she did it, because she got to hear a reason to do what it required her to do,” Twilight explained. “Language wouldn’t matter, passion and talent does.”
“Music transcends it all,” I added. Looking at a 1758 version of The Canterbury Tales, it was beautiful with its colours and intricate designs. I couldn’t read it, but it looked as if real love was put into the the leaves, branches, and letters. It made what I typed on a screen look awful by comparison.
“Yeah. Hey, what’s this?” She asked, I turned to my left a bit and looked at what she pointed at. I looked at it, and my blood froze.
Owen, Wilfred. 1917. Dulce et Decorum est, Draft.
I said nothing as I looked it over a few times. It was the entire poem, and seemed not much was changed. He had really neat writing, and that almost made the entire thing harder to read. The last two lines hurt to read as I looked at the pony beside me, who I was sure did not know of the war.
“Daniel, what is it? Tell me!” she whined, pulling at my arm cutely.
“A. A war poem,” I said simply, not looking at her. “It’s a war poem.”
“About what?”
“Gas attack,” I said, barely able to get the words out.
“Gas attack?”
“Ruins the ar, kills people that way. They drown, in a way. Sometimes it burns their lungs apart. Not an easy way to die,” I explained softly.
Twilight said nothing, but looked at the poem.
“Read it,” she said.
“What?”
“Read it. Read it to me, aloud.”
And I did.
Twilight said nothing afterwards, but hopped onto my back, nuzzling her face into my neck. He fur was very soft and dry.
“Daniel?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Your kind hurts me,” she said simply.
“They do,” I said, agreeing with her.
“But do you know what else?”
“What?”
“They also protect me, and help me.”
I didn’t say anything, I just smiled a bit. Twilight could be a silly pony, it seems.
“They also tell stories, and what its like to be hurt, and though that, you learn and get better, right?”
“To an extent, but yes,” I answered.
“Your kind is hard to understand, but thats ok. I think I learned enough here, for now.”
“For now?”
“Yeah,” she said simply. “Head back?”
“Yeah, lets. We’ve got the National Art Gallery in a little while,” I said, looking at my phone for the time.
“That should be fun!” she said, sounding happier. “I get to see more of what your kind has done?”
“Yeah, yeah you do,”
“Nothing too hurtful, I hope,” she said.
“If pain and suffering is there, then we can go through it together,” I said with an ear scratch to her as I left the area.
“Let’s.”