//------------------------------// // Adventures of the Royal Equestrian Courier Service // Story: That Book from the Movie // by Glimmerglaze //------------------------------// "This one!" Yellow magical glow enveloped a moderately thick volume standing on one of the middle lines of a bookshelf. It was lifted up and separated from its neighbours slowly, turned around and the pages gingerly parted before the eyes of Princess Celestia, who scanned the lines of writing and gave a satisfied nod. "Two-hundred years old, and still unmatched. No one's studied the old history of the griffons quite like dear old Dotted Heart. Not even the griffons." She placed herself on her haunches and held up her front hooves to catch the book as her glow dissipated, weighing it with care. Her eyes wandered in thought. "Grend should still have my other copy in the embassy. There are several in the Royal Library if I'm not completely mistaken. So this should be fine." The book rose into the air again under her guidance, as she stood up and walked a few steps over to the cart. It had a rectangular wooden base mounted on four free-turning wheels as well as two metal poles and a crossbar that served as the handle, and had been borrowed from the Royal Library itself, insomuch as Princess Celestia could be said to "borrow" anything. She had asked for it and intended to have it returned, at any rate, because her current location - her personal study - did not belong to the library compound. This was an exception, in more ways than one. There were about a dozen books already resting on the cart, evenly spread across neatly stacked piles. Celestia placed Dotted Heart's De Historiis Gryphorum atop one of the stacks, and let her eyes wander across the shelves again. Occasionally, she pulled a book out halfway, glimpsed at the title, and put it back after a short pause. She was about to turn towards another shelf closer to the entrance door, but caught herself. Her horn glowed again as she swiped across the top of the shelf she had just inspected, just under the ceiling. There was no trace of dust - the royal cleaning service had a reputation to uphold - but sure enough, there was a book up there, too. "Strange... When did I put that up there?" It swiftly floated down in front of her, a brown tome with golden clasps, and a symbol of the sun on the cover - though instead of her own symbol, the yellow-white blazing sun that adorned flags all over the nation, it was equal parts yellow and red, mimicking the hues of an evening sky. And with sad eyes, Celestia remembered why she had put this book out of sight. Her eyes wandered over to the cart, then back to the book hovering silently before her. Slowly, she let it hover to what would be the next spot on the pile, and paused. Then she shook her head, and the book was swiftly lifted over to her desk, on top of some papers she had previously decided were still good enough to sign the next day. ~ Volume after volume joined the haul on the library cart, one older and more immaculate than the next. Celestia had spent hours on her work by now, and started glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner. Twice her executive secretary had come by, twice the poor mare had been sent back with a hastily assembled note of apology regarding whatever appointment Celestia regretted to be unable to make. She didn't want to let it happen a third time. If she thought of more books to send, she could do so separately. Then, of course, her eyes wandered over to her desk once more, to the book with the sunset emblem. After some deliberation, she trotted to the cushion behind her desk and sat down. With a glow of her horn, she lifted the book's cover a couple of inches, then stopped, staring at it. Shaking her head in annoyance, she flipped the cover all the way, letting it hit the desk with a faint thud, exposing the writing within. She started reading. Tears filled her eyes as she did and with a swift flare of her magic, she slammed the book shut. "I'm so glad you're alive," she whispered. "But it still hurts too much." She was silent for a while, letting the tears flow without an indication she noticed they were even there. "No, it's not that. I just can't. I lost you. That's why I can't." She closed her eyes, dried them with two swift motions of a front hoof, and stood up again. A tiny gong made of brass sat on a tiny wall-mounted shelf next to the entrance to her study. Celestia lifted its similarly tiny brass mallet and made it sound. Faintly, the deep and vibrating sound of a much more massive gong could be heard from outside the study. Within ten seconds, there was a knock on the door. Celestia put on a smile. "Enter." The door was opened with deliberation and care. A gray-coated, brown-maned earth pony stallion with a neatly trimmed full beard came in and took a bow. He bore a black postillon as a cutie mark. "At your service, Your Highness." Celestia nodded towards the library cart, then caught herself and adopted a slightly sheepish expression. The foundation of the rather impressively sized pile of books remained neat and orderly, but as she had gone on, stretching the limits of her schedule, her handiwork had grown sloppier and sloppier. "I apologize for the delay, Sleet nor Hail. I'm afraid I was rather strapped for time, feel free to re-arrange the books as necessary." "There is no need to apologize, Your Highness," Sleet nor Hail replied evenly, and walked briskly towards the cart. Celestia held in a breath as he placed his forelegs over the handlebar, and then proceeded to push the cart towards the door. Despite a slight swerving as the wheels aligned themselves, as if by magic, the books remained undisturbed. Somehow, under Sleet nor Hail's diligent guidance, the pile seemed more stable than ever before. Celestia almost felt silly to worry at all. "With your leave, I shall depart immediately." Celestia nodded. "Wait," she said, moments later. She lifted the sunset-emblazoned book from her desk. "One more. Thank you very much." Sleet nor Hail nodded dutifully, and the book slowly came to rest on top of the pile. ~ Once out the door, Sleet nor Hail continued to roll the cart down the palace hallway, past the Princess' personal guard detail, until he found the grand hall forming the center of the Palace. At the top of the stairs leading downwards, a dark wooden rectangular box with a set of straps attached had been set on the floor. From a pouch fastened to his neck, Sleet nor Hail produced a key, placed into a hard-to-spot keyhole just below the top of the box, turned it, and nudged the lid open. Then he methodically placed one book after another into the box, starting from the topmost book, and then moving on downwards. When there were several books in one layer, he started with the top left (from his point of view) and proceeded clockwise, until every book had found its place, and the cart was empty. He gestured down the hall on the other side. Nothing happened. He rolled his eyes, put his hooves to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle. A young unicorn stallion started up from a rather engrossing book and rushed to meet him, apologizing profusely. The box glowed in a blue shimmer, slowly rising up until it sat center on Sleet nor Hail's back. The young unicorn fastened the straps to Sleet nor Hail's body, then let his magic vanish, panting. Sleet nor Hail gave no sign that he even noticed the weight, gingerly tested the quality of the harness with some studied movements, then nodded in approval and started his walk down the stairs. ~ About half an hour later, Sleet nor Hail was standing on the platform of Canterlot Station. He approached a white mare with a black mane and a blue cap. She had a pencil in her mouth and closely watched two burly stallions carry a piano into a train wagon, waiting to make a checkmark on her clipboard. Sleet nor Hail coughed to announce his presence. The mare turned towards him, glanced at the box on his back, and immediately shook her head, gesticulating towards the station clock. Sleet nor Hail reached into his pouch and produced a piece of paper, after which it didn't take long until the burly stallions wearing caps had unfastened his box and placed it into one of the cargo wagons. He earned some astonished looks as he followed them into the wagon and fit himself into the tiny space between his box and a stack of crates full of hygiene products, but there was no arguing with this particular piece of paper. ~ Later that day, with his cargo once more safely attached, Sleet nor Hail stepped briskly towards the rest of Ponyville. He was swiftly apprehended, however, by two oddly misshapen ponies clad in trenchcoats and black wide-brimmed hats. "Halt!" one of them cried out, somewhat high-pitched, but confident. Sleet nor Hail halted. "What is your destination?" said the same pony. "The castle of Princess Twilight Sparkle." "Oh, that's easy!" said the other pony, similarly high-pitched and a bit muffled, though oddly enough the voice didn't seem to originate from anywhere close to what was under the hat. "Ya can see it from anywhere! Should be a cinch to find it!" There was a sharp sound akin to 'shush'. "What my advocate was trying to say is that it's a long and perilous road from here to there, and it would be a shame if you were to face an... unfortunate accident on the way," said the first pony. "'Long and perilous'?" came a murmur from the second, this time from under the hat, quickly followed by another shushing. The very misshapen ponies with apparently extraordinary talent in ventriloquism were then quiet, apparently expecting a reaction. Sleet nor Hail coughed. "I certainly agree. An accident would be quite the shame." He waited for a couple of seconds. "Well then, good day. I'll be off." "Wait!" yelled the second pony, now affecting a very fillylike voice. There was extended murmuring, then he - or at this point, more likely at least partially she, Sleet nor Hail surmised - spoke up again, with a deeper tone this time. "What my associate was trying to say is that we would be causing that accident if our demands aren't met." "Ah." Sleet nor Hail coughed. "Well then, with your permission I would like to express my confusion on two points. Point One, I believe if the, as you call it, unfortunate accident were to be intentionally caused by either of you, or the two of you working in unison, be it according to your client-advocate relationship or as associates in the same cause, it could no longer be termed an 'accident', as it were. It might be more accurate to term it an incident. Point Two, unless I have suffered a temporary lapse in my auditory faculties, I believe you have yet to state any kind of demands. Though of course I cannot rule out the possibility that you have stated demands to someone of similar appearance to me, in which case I bear you no ill will for the mistake, though would regrettably quite prefer to be on my way, your permission pending." A very long pause followed. Finally, there was some agitated murmuring going on under the hat and trenchcoat of the second pony. "What do you have in that box?" she finally asked. "I cannot tell you." "A-HA!" yelled out the second pony. "I put it to you that you can, you're just not allowed to! Like my parents telling me I can't have more than one cookie after dinner, but I can totally eat two!" Sleet nor Hail blinked, then nodded. "Keenly argued. You are quite right in this particular case; I do know the contents of the box. I will not, however, share that information with you, nor anyone, under no circumstances. I am duty-bound." "I'm Sweetie Belle. Nice to meet y-" the second pony abruptly stopped talking. There was some shaking, and ruffling, and visually rather disconcerting rearranging of the second pony's misshapen form, until it mostly matched what it had looked like at the beginning, though Sleet nor Hail suspected a significant change had occured nevertheless. The first pony raised its voice again, annoyed. "Look, we're highway robbers, okay? Just tell us something you have so we can rob you." "Well then," said Sleet nor Hail, "I have within me the strength and endurance to withstand all manner of elements so I can deliver whatever missive entrusted to me, no matter what." "I don't think that's something we can rob." "In that case," said Sleet nor Hail, "I also possess dignity and decorum as befit any of those who enter in service to the crown." There was more hushed chatter. "I think we can't rob that either, and anyway it doesn't sound that valuable." "You got any bits?" said the second pony. "We take cash or credit." The first pony shrugged, or at the very least made a movement that vaguely resembled one. "Sure, that works." "I am, in fact, in possession of a modest sum. Though if your intention is criminal in nature, I regret to inform you I shall be quite resistant." "What?" said the first pony. "I think he said he doesn't wanna." said the second, somewhat uncertain. "Are you sure?" she asked, "We were gonna give it back anyway." "What? Why?" yelled out the first pony, again quite filly-like. "'Cause stealin' is mean!" "We've been over this! If we're going to take being highway robbers seriously, we're going to have to actually rob people! It's not robbing if we give it back!" "But that's stealin'!" "No! It's robbing! There's a difference! I think! Look, we'll get to that!" "If I may interject," said Sleet nor Hail, "I do apologize for the intrusion, but in what way does our current location constitute a highway?" There was a tense silence. "It's a way," replied the first pony after a while, defensive. "We tried up in the hills near town," said the second pony, "but we didn't find anypony to rob. Those would've been pretty high ways." "Girls, forget it," came another voice, also from the direction of the second pony. "We're not gonna get the hang of this. Let's just give up and move on." The first pony made an exasperated sigh. "And I had a really good feeling about this one." "Why?" asked the second pony sharply, improving on its previously displayed ventriloquism skills by briefly sounding like two voices at once. "You said that about the other things we tried! We've got kind of a big list, you know, and Babs is only gonna be visiting for so long!" "My shoulders hurt," said a previously unheard voice from within the trenchcoat of the first pony. "Well, it was on the list of things we need four ponies for. We wouldn't have put it on the list if it wasn't a pretty good guess, would we?" "It was the same as all the other lists. One of us said something and we wrote it down. I don't think we ever really think about how good our guesses are." "Well, maybe we should put 'Cutie Mark Crusader Annoying Nitpickers' on the list. That sounds like a really good guess to me right about now." "Don't make me come over there! You wouldn't like me if I came over there!" "Who says I like you where you are now?!" "I am terribly sorry," interjected Sleet nor Hail firmly. "I fear I have been beset by a sudden loss of my sense of orientation." There was a short period of silence. "Come again?" said the second pony. "I do not know where I am, or where I need to go." He coughed. "You would not, by any chance, know of a group of four expertly skilled travel guides with knowledge of the local town layout? I must get to a certain address in Ponyville. If, indeed, this town I am standing in is Ponyville, which due to my aforementioned absolute loss of sense of orientation I cannot say." "Why'dya need four?" asked the second pony sharply. "Safety reasons. In case there is disagreement over the correct direction to choose, I would prefer to be able to consult a second opinion, as well as a third and fourth. It pays to be safe, after all." The two misshapen ponies started shambling towards each other. Once they stood chest-to-chest, they proceeded to deliberate in hushed voices. "Very well!" exclaimed one of them. "Me and my arbalests have decided that we will take on this task for a modest fee!" "What's a fee?" asked another hushed voice, which Sleet nor Hail believed had belonged to the second pony before the two had come together in a way that made it quite difficult to judge where one pony began and the other ended. "I dunno, read it somewhere." "It means 'payment'," said the other voice from the second pony helpfully. "Really? Sweet!" "What? But he'll be lost if we don't help! We can't ask for money! That'd be just as mean as stealin'!" The voice that had spoken for the first pony let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, fine. Hey, Dictionary, do you also know a word for when you don't want your fee after all 'cause you're dumb, I mean, nice like that?" "Waive." "Huh? Why? Do you see Rainbow Dash? Is Rainbow Dash flying a trick right now?" Suddenly one of the hats was lifted up and pushed to the side as an excited orange filly with a purple mane stuck out her head, searching the skies. "No, the fee. You waive the fee. There's an 'i' in it." "Oh." The orange filly quickly grabbed the brim of the hat with her teeth and vanished under it once more. "Right. I knew that." she mumbled and coughed far louder than any healthy, or indeed sick, pony would. "My assortments and I have graciously decided to waive our fee. With an 'i' in it." Sleet nor Hail nodded. "That is most kind." He coughed. "Now, I believe it would be best if you were to fetch your two... colleagues right away, as I would quite like to avoid any further delay. Ah!" He exclaimed, lifting a foreleg over his eyes. "The afternoon sun does sting so terribly. My mood is lightened by the comforting hope that once I have rested these sore, hurting eyes enough and open them to daylight once more, I shall be guided to my target by four of the most experienced travel guides of this town, whatever it may be." He patiently listened, and released his eyes once the rustling had ceased. "Now, with whom do I have the honor?" The four fillies bowed, three of them simultaneously, the fourth hurrying after. The milky-white one with the pink-and-purple mane raised her voice. "Mr. Dutybound, my name is Sweetie Belle. Me and my colleagues will be honored to be your Cutie Mark Crusader Travel Guides for today!" "Yay!" added the brown-coated one with the pink mane. A fairly awkward silence ensued. "Don't we usually do the 'yay'? I'm confused." she asked in a hushed tone. "We do," a yellow filly with red mane and bow mumbled through her teeth. "She didn't do the pause and ruined it. Just act natural," whispered the orange filly Sleet nor Hail recognized as the Rainbow Dash enthusiast. "I just wanted to be a little professional about it, is all," mumbled Sweetie Belle, audibly hurt. "You don't see Mr. Dutybound going 'yay' after telling us what he does, do you? That's 'cause he's a professional." "He didn't tell us what he does. For all we know he is just some guy with a box." "You think ponies carry boxes like that for fun? Hold on." The filly that had introduced herself as Sweetie Belle spoke up. "What do you do, Mr. Dutybound?" Sleet nor Hail cleared his throat. "If you must know, I am, as the documents I have in my pouch will certify, a royal courier of the Royal Equestrian Courier Service." "See? Professional through and through," whispered Sweetie Belle, ducking her head back into the gaggle the four of them had formed. "Yay," Sleet nor Hail added. The four fillies looked up and turned to him, confused. "Did you say something?" asked the orange one. Sleet nor Hail coughed. "I don't believe I did." The filly eyed him suspiciously. "Anyway, we should probably get going. You want to get to Twilight's castle, don't you?" "That is correct." "Alright, girls. Line up! Two walk in front of him, and two behind. Hop to it! One! Two!" "Hold on, hold on," said the yellow one. "What're ya talking about?" "Got to protect him from lowway robbers and stuff. Just go with it. We've wasted enough of his time by now." Sleet nor Hail lifted an appreciative eyebrow. "One! Two! Go!" And onwards they marched. ~ "Oh, so your name isn't Dutybound after all?" asked Sweetie Belle, surprised. "Indeed not. It is, in fact, Sleet nor Hail." "Why 'Sleet nor Hail'?" asked the filly that had introduced herself as Apple Bloom in the meantime. "Rain and the gloom of night aren't worth mentioning, and I quite dislike snow." "What?" "At any rate, it appears we've arrived," said Sleet nor Hail, now that they stood just in front of the entrance doors to Twilight's castle. "And I have you to thank, Cutie Mark Crusader Travel Guides." "Yay!" the four of them yelled in unison. "While you have graciously waived your fee, I do wish to offer you a reward for your trusty service." He opened the pouch hanging around his neck and produced a tiny metal box. He nudged open the lid and held it out. "Within this box I keep a supply of genuine royal courier mints, specifically made for members of my organization. Their enduring and intense flavor grants us additional fortitude during rough sections of travel, and keeps our breaths minty fresh for when we arrive at our target location without having had the opportunity to brush our teeth." He coughed. "Which I must stress you still have to do, even if you eat one of these." "Whoooa," said the fillies in unison, as Sweetie Belle gingerly used her magic to lift four green mints out of the box, placing one each in her friends' waiting hooves. "Thanks, Mr. Hail!" they said. "My pleasure, sisters," said Sleet nor Hail, neatly tucking the box back into the pouch. "Sisters?" asked Apple Bloom. "Out on the open road, all travelers are brothers in spirit. Or sisters. As the case may be." Sleet nor Hail bowed. "Farewell," he said, and nudged open the castle door. After the door shut behind him and Sleet nor Hail heard the excited chatter slowly dying down as the fillies moved down the road, he gave a relieved sigh. He cracked a smile. "I love my job," he said to himself aloud, and went immediately serious again. This was to be the most egregious transgression of his code of conduct for the entire year. ~ His keen eyes spotted a two-story library cart. As he moved over, a voice called out from further down the hall. "Ho there! What have you got?" Sleet nor Hail gave a quick bow. "I am Sleet nor Hail, a courier sent by Celestia with a delivery." "More books, right?", replied the voice belonging to a swiftly approaching pony in a blue workman's suit. "Just a guess. It's most of what she gets. You keep wondering whether she might need a kitchen built, or some plumbing done, or some extra beds to fill all those rooms, but she's all about the books, that one." Sleet nor Hail coughed. "Might I request use of this cart?" "Knew it was gonna be books. That's what it's for, go on! I'll wait and take 'em up for ya right away. Do I sign anything?" Sleet nor Hail examined one of his pieces of paper. "Am I talking to Handy Mane?" "That's me!" "Overseer of Her Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle's castle renovation and improvement effort, listed here. Well, that seems to be in order. I will ask you to sign in a moment. Could you assist me with the parcel?" "You got it!" said Handy Mane and swiftly moved to undo the straps that tied the wooden box to Sleet nor Mane's back. Quickly and with professional care, they lowered it to the ground. Sleet nor Hail then produced the key and unlocked it. He inspected the multitude of books inside. "This may take a while." Handy Mane nodded, and Sleet nor Hail began his work. First, he placed about a dozen books on the cart, evenly spread across neatly stacked piles, starting with the book to the right of the upper left-most space and proceeding counter-clockwise. As he continued placing them, the stacking became progressively sloppier, until one had to start to wonder if anything would slip and fall on the floor. It didn't, of course. Finally, he took the last book from the box, and carefully balanced it on the stack that sat center atop the pile. The book glew pink and vibrated. Sleet nor Hail blinked twice, which was his equivalent, speaking in terms of degrees of surprise, of a glass-shattering girlish yell. "That supposed to happen?" asked Handy Mane. "I don't believe so. I have not been informed it might, at any rate," Sleet nor Hail answered evenly. "I think it would be wise to deliver these books to Princess Twilight Sparkle at the earliest convenience, and call attention to the strange behavior." "Right you are," said Handy Mane. "Do you require assistance?" asked Sleet nor Hail. "I suspect you have a magical lift set up." "We sure do. Gonna build in a permanent one later this week. And thanks for the offer, but I got it from here. Good job, man. That box looked heavy as all get out." "All in a day's work." He pulled a piece of paper out of his pouch, and held up a pen. Handy Mane swiftly used his mouth to sign his name, and both paper and pen disappeared where they came from. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Handy Mane." "Safe road ahead, Sleet nor Hail." The rocal courier nodded in appreciation, then pulled open the door and walked down the road to town. Handy Mane, meanwhile, pushed the cart over to the magical lift, critically eyeing the vibrating and glowing book, wondering about the correct way to report an occurence of this kind to his superiors, deciding that, like the many times before, it'd come to him in the moment.