Long ago, before most records were kept, was a filly who was quite far from ordinary. You see, even though she looked to be a normal filly most of the time, in truth she was a changeling, a young nymph. Disguised now as a pony, she lived amongst a nomadic pony tribe. The filly was no prisoner of this tribe, however, and in fact only one knew her secret; her adoptive father being the only one who knew what she really was. Note was his name. A plain name for most, but to him the single word fit. Amidst his own travels he had found her lying in a ditch near a rocky crag. Taking pity on her, he took her in, claiming to the tribe that he'd found an orphaned filly in the mountains around where they wandered. He hid her from view under the guise that she'd been gravely injured. This all worked well enough for the short term, but in the long run he knew that ponies would want to see how she was recovering from these injuries. He thought on this for some time, and in the end it was his own inner talent that brought the solution. Note was a skilled artist, and, digging through his belongings, retrieved a sketch he had made on a piece of wood a long time ago. The changeling looked it over, and in a green flash of fire turned into the form that the image portrayed, that of a young, green-coated filly.
"Leaf," the stallion said as he looked upon his daughter's disguise for the first time.
Years went by, and the hidden changeling, Leaf, began to learn the ways of how the tribe worked, how they moved, gathered, and kept each other going. Note frequently found himself tired, his love energy being just barely enough to keep the growing changeling alive and well, but regardless he found himself in a state of joy.
Leaf began to take on an odd habit, however. Frequently she would find bits of wood, chew on them, and then weave the ground-up fibers together to form sheets. She'd work and weave the sheets together, forming them into odd shapes which would link, melding together form a dome-like structure big enough for her to fit inside, which she frequently began to hide in whenever she could. At first a bit disturbed by the strange habit, Note figured it was merely a changeling's way of building a nest to live in, and so, even as they moved, he hid Leaf's nest, carrying it with them on the cart the two pulled together.
One evening though, something happened happened that surprised both the pony and the changeling he'd kept as his daughter. When all was quiet, Leaf dropped her disguise, as she did whenever she could. To both her own, and her father's amazement, the changeling had begun to grow a thin blue mane and tail. Leaf was overjoyed; too long she'd looked at other fillies and was secretly jealous that their manes and tails, soft and long, were real and not just a shape-shifting illusion. Note was glad that she was happy, but couldn't help but shiver slightly. He realized now why he might have found his daughter in the first place, and it might not have been coincidence.
Leaf was a changeling Queen, perhaps not abandoned or a runaway, but one sent out to form her own hive.
Note spent the next few weeks worried about his daughter, or more precisely what she might become. He didn't want his tribe falling to a changeling hive, but he refused to let his daughter go.
Leaf, meanwhile, noticed how sad her father was becoming; she could feel his emotions begin to shift around. An idea struck the young Queen one night; she knew her father liked those colorful images he made, but frequently was without wood to draw on. Getting to work, Leaf chewed up some old wood bits she'd collected in the weeks before, pasting them together into the thin, fibrous sheets she'd been making her nest out of. As they dried, she took quill and ink to them, and although she lacked the skill her father had drawn, she eventually penned out his image in the now-dried material, taking it to him as soon as it was finished.
Note smiled when he saw Leaf's work, deciding then and there that his original decision was no mistake; she was his daughter and there was no two ways about it.
Leaf later taught her adopted father about how she made those thin sheets of material. Note began practicing by grinding up wood in a mortar and pastel and then soaking the shreds in water, letting them dry. In time, the two had produced the first parchment to be made by pony kind, the substance not being very strong or durable, but strong enough to write upon and hold both word and image. For a long while, they were happier than they'd ever been as more and more ponies began to trade with their tribe, and began to learn the secrets of what became known as "paper".
Unfortunately it didn't last. One day a few patrons managed to come to their tent in the early hours of the morning. Leaf, still asleep, didn't have her disguise, and the ponies ran off in fear after seeing Leaf, now a fully-grown Changeling Queen, asleep in their tent. Upon realizing they'd been discovered, Leaf flew off, leaving the tribe she'd know for years. Note was devastated, made worse by the small scrap of paper his daughter had left behind.
"Tell them I killed your daughter," she'd written. "If you don't, you'll die by their will and hoof. I can't let that happen to you; please, Papa, lie to them and tell them that I'm dead. It'll be easier this way."
Note, teary-eyed, did just as she'd suggested. Clever as he was, he managed to convince his tribe that this was the truth, their anger dissipating into sadness as they mourned what they thought was Leaf's death.
Note lived for several years in a state of perpetual sadness. The old stallion even considered just wandering away, letting himself waste away in the prairies. One day though, his despair turned to joy; a messenger came to his tribe from far away with a large stack of papers. Note looked it over and saw many, many drawings of places far away, including one of a towering changeling hive, and two Queens, mother and daughter, sitting together under a hanging lamp. On its back was a letter:
"I found them," the letter read, "my home, my family, my mother... She wanted to tell my father how pleased she is that her daughter was raised so well. And I wanted to say the same to my Papa. I'll stop by at some point, but you might not recognize me at first. I miss you.
--Leaf".
Year by year, more and more notes came in to the Stallion's tent. Content and happy, father and daughter continued to send each other parcels; Leaf drew, and Note wrote. The stallion eventually collected them all, binding them together into a large stack.
A large stack of papers... a... Leaf.
The Changeling Queen bound hers together too; small, written letters.
Notes.