//------------------------------//
// Lemon and Sugar 
// Story: This Is Your Story! 
// by Mahayro 
//------------------------------//

It would probably be best to regroup and figure out how best to deal with this unknown.

I have to figure out:  Why did he come to us?  What had he been planning while chained up all those weeks at Berry's?  And why did he not apparently return there?  Was he legitimately afraid of Berry?  Or...has something happened to her--an act of vengeance?

Should I leave to investigate?  I could bring help.  But then there would be nopony to watch him.  He knows we're here.  Time to premeditate is a far greater boon to him than to me, given his initial element of surprise and known abilities.  He would likely be long gone.

Get another tenant, then?  The landlord could hold down the fort.  But...would we just be putting an innocent in harm's way?  What kind of harm can this pony do?  How is he sitting there, so confidently?  And do I really want to explain what happened to Colgate?  Would anyone even believe me?

Forgive my brevity and my uncertainty.  Time is essential.  I have to find out what's going on before he enacts some terrible scheme to undo us.

Perhaps this is the start of that scheme already.  Perhaps he has set the trap, and we have already started to spring it.  But he couldn't have known so much of what happened today.

...Unless he was there, too?

I don't know what to do!!

...What?  The door opened again.  I regarded the ghostly blue-green pony once again.

His eyes looked so empty.  I've felt empty and hollow many times in my life, but I have never known a void like that.  If I weren't so panicked right now, I would feel a world different about him.  Berry thought of him as helplessly lost, or worse--a mental invalid.  But no invalid wrote the chapters that started this book.  If it weren't so colorful and oddly biased, I'd say he exceeds my abilities entirely.  What, then, conferred this negative space in him where I should see life and charm?

And why has he given me the time to write this?  What is he waiting for?  He just keeps staring.

The book, it is glowing.  T he p a ge s  a r e rus tl i ng.  I  ca n no t w rit e st e a di ly .  H is h o rn.  H e  i s d oin g this.

And it fell still.

There is a song heard all around.  But you don't hear a sound.  If you were with him now, he'd let you know his mind.

So, this is your invitation.  I find myself unable to come up with a better option...unless I just wanted to run away and hope our next meeting came more favorably.  But Berry would certainly rage at even temporarily giving up the one she believes to this day has threatened her children.

Or...wait, she said "loved ones" in that chapter.  "The ones I love"--something like that.  She may have also meant the poor blue mare slumped beside me.  Did he actually harm Colgate?  What in all the rightness of the world has happened to her?  Does he know?  And can I stop it?

This seems like a tremendously foolish decision, but...curiosity has gotten the better of me once more.

Have at it, you terrible creature.







The more you try, the more you fail.  You'd like to run away.

Stop it!

Incidentally, there should be some changes made.

"Stop!  Just go away and never come back!"

Don't be blind--you've got a thinking mind.  Stop the bells that ring so loud.

I SCREAM EVERYTHING HURTS STOP IT IPU!!!  STOP IT!!!!!

But you must remember, friends.  What has to start just has to end.  Everypony's got a destiny.

STOP





It took quite some time for the tuckered mares to come about.  The farce of twilight had spewed across the whole sky once more in its range of hues--soon to be cleansed by lunar grace.

Colgate awoke first, fresh and orderly from her bed.  She noticed the pale unicorn almost immediately, through the bedroom door, and froze.  Her pupils pinched to pinpoints as she stammered and waved at him.

The pale unicorn floated the story to her, through the way.

He was here to provide answers.  He apologized for the rudeness in the setup and hoped you to be comfortable.  You had passed out after shocking revelations from your carrot-bottomed comrade--she who lay near you on the floor.

Colgate quickly scanned these words and relaxed--but then she also scanned the words on the previous page, recognizing Carrot's panicked hoofwriting.  She batted the book away desperately and leapt to the floor, rattling the blanketed Carrot with all of her might.  Her yells approached screaming, threatening to alert the apartment's other tenants.

He would not wish to harm you, as it could serve no purpose.  You would be free to go after partaking in tonight's story.  But the story must be told!

She almost batted the book away a second time before glancing at the pale unicorn once more.  He looked directly back at her.  Her sense of panic did not diminish, but she at least quieted as she returned to her efforts to stir Carrot.

After some seconds, Carrot groaned mightily, the bearer of something akin to an acute hangover.  Before she could even move a hoof, she let loose with a whining cry of pain.

Colgate thought to console her...but then she scrunched her face back at the pale unicorn and shut the door with a horn-glow and a shout.

Their concerns were understood well enough without sight.  The book hid under the bed for the time being.

"He's here," Colgate whispered forcefully.  "We have to do something!"

"What did he do to me?"  Carrot couldn't be bothered to hush her tone in growling this.

"I don't know--just get us out, get us out!"

"Uuuuuugh..."  She briefly considered her surroundings.  Low and grumbling:  "This is your bedroom.  There's a window right there.  You have the unicorn magic, not me.  Agh..."

Colgate pulled closer to Carrot.  "I...I know this isn't the right time.  But you--"  She paused; when her voice returned, it sounded wetter.  "You really tried.  And I wanna thank you.  If you only knew how long I've been trying, you'd know why we keep you...uh, keep you out of it."

"But what if--"  Carrot pouted from pain once more.  She tried again, more softly.  "What if it's him?  What if it's been him all along?  We can put an end to this tonight!"  Another wincing cry.

The book came out.

We can!

Carrot got up quickly, directing all her ire at the book.  She threw herself upon it, knocking it from the air.  She kicked it blindly, stubbing her hoof in the process; it scattered against the door but was unharmed.  Suddenly overwhelmed by all the agony again, she collapsed and sobbed for some time.

While still splayed on the floor, Carrot explained her motivations in a careful low tone.  "Don't you understand?  There's something wrong with him!  And he's dangerous!  I was looking for a way to tie him up--and he stopped me.  He stopped me before I could even leave for the bathroom to figure it out.  And then we both woke up in here.  We can't negotiate with him because..."  She wasn't quite sure how to put it just yet.

Colgate...suddenly lost her will to do anything.

Carrot, still too pained to make much physical effort, noticed her blankness.  Her response was hardly loud, but the emphasis was as clear as the whining.  "This is you, isn't it!?  Just leave us alone!  What in the world did we do to deserve this?  Oh, make it all stop!"

The book spoke to Carrot this time.

This situation is really simple, but you insist on making it complicated.  Join the pale unicorn for a while.  Read the story.

Carrot opened and considered the bedroom window.  She and Colgate could easily make their escape from the building, but the two-story fall might prove unkind to further endeavors.

"Colgate...Cole..."  She shook her cheery friend as an overeager foal would a snow globe.  Carrot's own panic engaged as she continued not to respond.  "Cole!  Cole!!  Please!  I'm so sorry I was so harsh!  But I've got to do something!  We've got to get out of here!  I know you can't teleport, but maybe you can get us out the window safely?  Please Cole, please hear me!!"

The book gently covered Carrot's face.

Come on...the book said he could help and--honestly!--there's only one pony here needing any help right now.  Cheer up a bit, huh?  All you have to do is read the story, and then you are free.

Carrot searched her generous mane and procured a spare quill.  She scratched deeply into the book's page with its dry point.

How can you honestly expect anypony to trust you?  You control and you twist words and you lie, and then you expect impunity.  You are a monster.  You are a danger to everyone.  And you will be found, with or without me.  Someone will find you and end you, no matter what happens to us.  The truth always comes out.

She then cracked the door open only long enough to throw the book at the pale unicorn.  He considered this written declaration while Colgate slowly came to.  Both sufficiently recovered, the two gently cried against one another, both overcome with terror, as the pale unicorn formed a response.

This isn't how the story goes.  Everything flew apart one terrible night.  It will be difficult--very difficult indeed--to restore the tale to its proper course.  The pale unicorn exists once more; the narrator is revealed.  But the pale unicorn is not without resources.  Everything can be fixed--and this time, it can even be fixed after the fact.

Carrot had attempted to reveal Colgate's perpetually forgotten life to her.  Without aid, she would be compelled to do so, time and again, while they both tear at one another's sanity in the futile struggle.  Such is her nature.  But she does not have to.  They do not have to suffer, nor do they need to be punished.  All they have to do is read the story that the pale unicorn is about to write, and remember.

Fortune has brought you here, dear mares.  Take this opportunity, as no other pony can ever offer it to you.

This message was copied onto a loose piece of paper and slid under the door.



"Is he telling the truth this time?" peeped Colgate.

"Is he tweaking your mind so you think he is?" groaned Carrot.

"...Is he doing the same to you right now?"

"Why would he do that?"

"Why do you think he would even let you ask that?"

"Why would he even let me ask this?"

"What's the point of worrying, then?"

What's the point, indeed.

"Oh...buck."

Please calm yourself.  There is no need to be upset.

"Cole...IPU is trying to speak inside my head right now.  He's toying with us.  I don't think we have any choice.  Just run for it while you still can.  I'll stay and...read the story.  Save yourself.  I have to entertain him."  Shouting:  "And I don't care if you can hear this!  Just don't hurt Cole!  She didn't deserve any of this!  Just you and me...let's handle this like writers."  She paused in dark contemplation.  "Like crackpots and monsters."  She groaned at the exertion once more.

You would never have gotten this far if you'd turned and fled at the door.  You need to see all the rooms of the house.  You need to read the story.  The incapacitation was unfortunately necessary.  But the pale unicorn will not resist you anymore.  Come, then.

"I'm...going, Cole.  Save yourself.  Get out of here.  Get Berry.  Yeah--get Berry!  Get the cops!  Get the mental ward!  Get Celestia herself!  Just go get help!"  She couldn't totally hide pain in shouting this, but she was coming around at last.

Thus Carrot seated herself at the round table next to the pale unicorn, peering over the book that would soon contain the promised tale.



Carrot bade the pale unicorn to proceed with a regular pen and ink rather than magical inscription.  He did so.  As she explained her take on the matter, the bitterness in her earlier struggle remained and kept her resignation at bay.

"Before you begin...understand a couple of things, big shot.  As far as I know, you can't actually control my mind like a puppet.  There isn't anything you can do that will prevent me from smashing your head into this table right now.  Even that noise or whatever you did earlier can't stop me instantly.  If I see your horn glow...even once...then I will not hesitate to make you regret it with every ounce of my being--even if it is the last thing I ever do."

You continue to treat him as a villain, Carrot--yet he has invited you to sit next to him, making him vulnerable.  Is that not worthy of trust?  What could possibly convince you at this point that you do not flank the first and last embodiment of evil?

"Perhaps you could start by dropping the third-person hooey!  I'm right next to you!  It's getting really, really annoying!  And what's this about existing once more?  I get that you're a mute and this is how you talk--fine.  Just pitch this pretentious nonsense of yours and maybe we can actually have a conversation.  Do you even know how crazy you sound?"

The pale unicorn was at a loss for an adequate response.

He cannot continue without Colgate.  She should be here before the story begins.

As if responding to the call, a frazzled Colgate clambered out of bed and walked into the main room.  She set immediately to lighting more lamps in the darkening room, though she looked terribly weary.

"Oh, no...what are you doing now?"  Waxing frantic, Carrot swished over and checked the writer unicorn's horn carefully.  Satisfied, she turned back to watch as Colgate turned on the stove burner and set a full kettle upon it.

Colgate's voice utterly belied her appearance in its gentle sweetness.  "You seem to forget that I've seen this fellow a few times before.  He had plenty of chances to get into my head or mess with me while he was at Berry's.  But am I not fine now?"

Carrot was utterly flabbergasted.  "Wh-wh-what do you call forgetting everything you ever cared about?  That's not fine or normal at all!"

"...You think Fido did that to me from across town?  Get real, hun.  You're throwing way too many of your fears on this guy.  Let's see what he's got to say, hm?"

"Stop bucking calling me 'hun'!  Did you forget about how much you hurt me, too?  How you turned my hope for friendship inside-out?  How you just reminded me, in my own home, how I couldn't ever rely on anyone but myself?  You did this to me..."  Speaking her words before even understanding them, she froze; then, a few squeaking sobs dribbled out, forced through the cracks in her composure by stress's great pressure.

Quickly, and more like chiming in than responding directly:  "Oh.  Did I do that?  Well--well, we'll get that taken care of right away--just, stay calm."  Colgate continued to focus on her own task as she brought up a cutting board and a small knife.

"But you knew not to touch or coddle me just a few hours ago!  You know what you did!  You...you did this to me!"

More thoughtfully, but still not breaking her slicing stride or turning an inch: "Carrot...you're having a panic attack.  I don't blame you: this guy may not look or act like typical Ponyville folk.  But he's not bad.  We've just got to reach out to him somehow--and here's the perfect chance.  I'm even using my best roots tonight.  You used to like my tea quite a lot before you stopped coming over--so let's make an occasion out of it, hm?  If this fellow's willing to look past how Berry treated him, then we should be able to look past his weirdness.  Besides, I've always loved strange company.  ...Well, maybe not the way Berry usually does."  Her ensuing titters hailed from the land of libido.

Carrot divined her own response--more to the situation than the particulars Colgate had just said.  She delivered it with great deliberation and weight, as if to a five-year-old--but with venom to slay an adult.  "You...you're just magnificent.  Beautiful.  I've got nothing.  No words can explain how much you're acting just like a pawn right now.  You're being played.  We're being had.  Look at this--he's just sitting here while you carry on acting like nothing's happened.  Even when I tell you, nothing changes."  The venom reached its end; she was simply breathless at the next thought.  "But...how?"  She then leveled with the pale unicorn.  "How?"

The pale unicorn prepared to chide her for impatience; but Colgate came around, sighed with a sort of finality, and proffered the best answer--and an empty teacup.  "Berry and I knew you would pry and pry and pry forever.  You don't seem to understand that this is my own mind we're dealing with here.  My mind is not a plaything--you can't just pull it apart and put it back together.  And if you could, we certainly wouldn't ever let you try.  It made sense for a long time when it was only things about her that I forgot.  Of course it's repression.  Of course it's not right.  But that doesn't mean you can fix it just by asking a million questions.  Somewhere deep inside, I must be very hurt.  Do you want that all to come rushing back?"

She sidled up against her affronted little darling, invoking a magnitude of sweetness that could create cavities on the spot.  "Hu--I mean, Carrot.  I'm really glad that you tried.  That's how I know you still care.  So let's have a toast to being friends while we read a story.  Maybe we'll learn where this fellow comes from.  Maybe we could even make a new friend here tonight!"

Carrot was actually moved by the first half of that.  However, the last three sentences drove her to load that movement into a cannon and to point it back at Colgate threateningly.  "He has been writing our lives, and reading and speaking into our brains.  He just blasted me with something mentally, specifically to control the situation.  Even Berry doesn't go that overboard!  And we have no reason whatsoever to trust this guy--he's not our friend!  How is it even possible to lie to yourself so completely?  It doesn't make any sense at all!"  She closed her eyes and attempted to breathe deeply several times, recognizing and salving her own trembling perturbation.  A jag of pain could still be heard in the breathing.  She eventually brought her forehooves to rest upon the table and her head to rest upon them.

Colgate focused back on the ginger-cutting, pausing only a second or two to take the kettle off the stove beside her as it sounded its readiness.  She then delivered the ginger slices and the water to the three cups upon the table, also setting lemon wedges and a bowl of sugar cubes among them.  Finally, she claimed a seat on the pale unicorn's other side.  Only when seated did she respond to Carrot.

Matter-of-factly: "I know how to handle rude company.  He may have been a bit harsh to you earlier, but he also made sure you were comfortable.  You'd just needed to calm down and that is the only way he had to make you do so.  On the whole, I'd say he's been absolutely delightful compared to you.  Shouldn't you consider apologizing to him?  If it were Berry in my place, why, she'd be forcing you to!"  Trading that tone for a cheerier one, smiling modestly at her more immediate table partner:  "Now, sir...what should we call you?"

The pale unicorn, however, had no name to give.  His story is as a blank page.  This story is not his.

Carrot glanced at the text, then unset suddenly from her sullen self-study.  "I know--how about--"  Even the pale unicorn would not inscribe that utterance.  One might try to replace that with a harmless object like "apple" or "boat", but no one would buy that.  It was simply beyond the pale--leave it at that.

Colgate's mouth sagged open; her eyes glazed in wonder at the scale of the offense, particularly as it was shared among mares of a socially and sexually liberal nature.  Everyone's tea had brewed--and Carrot's bout of foul flippancy faded to counterfeit calmness--before she had gathered her senses again.

"Carrot Top...please take your seat away from the table.  The corner by the bulletin board will do.  If you so much as utter one more word, I shall have to ask you to leave."

The yellow-tinted lady then knew how fully her intentions had failed.  She crumpled dramatically, sobbing openly into her foreleg and the table.

Colgate breached her own better judgment and reached to place a hoof against that foreleg.  Then she reached with her charity and mercy.  "Hey.  I'll still read the story aloud for you, alright?  But...this is clearly too much for you as it is.  Still--I have a heart, and you know that.  I'm not just going to be unfair.  But when you assault my guest, you're hurting me--and we can't have that.  So please, take a moment and collect yourself.  That's all I'm really asking.  And don't forget the tea, hm?"  Even her own rebukes came with condolences.



A moment later, the story began.  A cheery Colgate dictated it professionally, and a dejected Carrot listened on while leaning against an empty corner.  The former had taken a squeeze of lemon and two lumps of sugar; the latter, just one lump.  The pale unicorn was, of course, too busy writing to drink.




To the readers present:


Please do not be shocked at this.  As was stated earlier, this story (the whole story in this dear tome) is not for its narrator.  Perish the contrary thought, if you would.  The same goes for this tale within the tale.  In fact, the two of you know quite well the pony for whom it is intended.  She has taken her seat beside its author tonight.



(Colgate gasped.)



There is no peace without war.  Colgate has long struggled with woes from a time her friend Carrot did not know.  And though this friend thought she had shared that life story, neither could possibly be the wiser to its incompleteness.  To that mare seated adjacent, the loss of a career and the distance of her beloved are considered as vague mysteries, better not to be troubled.  In recent days, however, the troubles have mounted and she is losing her battle.  The author expresses an obligation to do what he can to avert that loss.



It would seem odd for an apparent stranger to offer a helping hoof in a matter of which he should know nothing; but in truth, he should know quite a lot, considering his role in it all.  And though you may hate him for that role, let this offering serve as the most sincere apology and confession possible.  May you receive it well and consider the author's token at its end.

Colgate née Minuette, daughter of Fair Shake and Perfect Pace--THIS IS YOUR STORY.



(Colgate and Carrot could hardly blink to look away from the pale unicorn.)



You were born of noble stock in Canterlot.  Your youth there was encumbered not by need or by want--only by those parents' expectations of you.  Though they cared for you, their treatment of you bespoke grand designs and tight schedules that left you (as they would leave any foal) wanting freedom and rest.  When you were about 9 or 10 years old, your father lost his political job and his connections disavowed him in his efforts to recover.  Your mother, a talented musician but not well-heeled by her trade alone, led the search for a new life in a more financially sustainable neighborhood.  Begrudgingly, you all accepted an invitation to Ponyville and relocated there.  They adjusted to the modest lifestyle, but that only increased the burden they laid on you as they hoped you would surpass them.

Your parents were forced to get creative in ensuring the richness of your after-school curriculum.  Still perceived as important ponies in the humble town, they were able to persuade the local leadership to offer you something of an internship at Town Hall, even as a pre-teen.  But you subtly deceived them: though you did work for the town title clerk, you did not work such long hours as was believed.  While walking to this position one day, you encountered a pony your age whom you had not seen in the schoolhouse.  Your intrigue in this home-schooled filly increased until you decided to abuse the town records for your own purposes to track down this "Berry" and visit her at her home.  Upon stalking her domicile--a winery on the very edge of town--you immediately found a friend.

Berry provided something your upbringing could not: satisfaction outside of fastidious duty.  She introduced you to the ways of the world with dirty jokes, pesky pranks, a disregard for authority, and a far-too-young interest in alcohol.  You loved your parents and somewhat understood what they were trying to do, but you couldn't relate to them at that age; Berry was your mode of rebellion.  You provided her with important culture and the taste of a more erudite education--even though you yourself preferred not to associate with it.  As the high school years rolled on and you excelled in school and assisted with other Town Hall positions, you quietly resisted the professional outlook that that lifestyle would otherwise confer upon you.  Weekend outings would lead to discreet romance and, later, casual sex; though you could not visit the bar, Berry's guardian practically encouraged the two of you in locating strong drink.  And when you and Berry did not take part in experiences together, you made sure to verbally share them with one another at every opportunity.

You didn't drink to the extent that Berry did; she ended up becoming addicted while you were still in school.  You continued to support her and started to take your role-model role more seriously; you perceived the prospect of an upstanding living as her only salvation, and that is what you gave her.  You loved Berry dearly--though then, only as a close friend.  One time, when you were showing her classical literature, you discovered that she could only read and write at a very basic level.  This drove you to ever-greater efforts to maximize the time you had together so you could teach her these vital skills yourself; in doing so, your mastery in managing time became such that you earned your cutie mark in it.



"Awww, that's adorable.  You never told me that, Cole!"

Colgate forgot the rule of requested silence, her breath taken.  "But, I never thought of it that way myself..."  She shed a few tears that nearly dripped into the tea, though she made no further sound.

She bade the pale unicorn to pause with a hoof over the pen; a moment later, they continued.



Your parents took your mark as a sign for you to continue work in Town Hall for the city planner--a career low in prestige but high in demands and even higher in social connections.  Though this would limit your time with Berry for some years, you awkwardly accepted it as your destiny.

After graduating school and beginning city work in earnest, you gained some freedom again.  You located an apartment similar to this one and lived very little of your life inside of it.  Days were occupied with forms and fielding requests from hundreds of parties; nights were often spent in others' beds.  Berry lived much the same lifestyle, though her days were confined instead to the winery.  She aimed to break from this confinement, and finally she did in a big way--spending most of her inheritance to take you on an epic trip across Equestria and even beyond.  The evidences of these adventures decorate the walls of her home today, but you did not hold so tightly to those memories--even as they altered your outlook on life and expanded your mind to an even greater calling.

Berry was profoundly affected by it too, painfully realizing that her academic shortcomings meant she had to rely on others to help conduct the more official business of life--and to be able to read the signs and other correspondence she encountered on the trek.  You thus established a formal education program for her in secret.  Soon thereafter, life interrupted the plot: she became pregnant with her firstborn.  (You were diligent in such matters and had always avoided unwanted pregnancy.)  She embraced her fortune, and you ensured that she would discontinue drinking during this.  However, she also got fed up with working as life's challenges grew more complicated.  For some time, you supported her and her oldest right in your own home.

But they were not the only guests in your home.  Around this time, you unknowingly took in an invisible little helper.  He was diligent and thoughtful, and he always



Colgate tapped the shoulder of the pale unicorn.  "Excuse me...but are you referring to yourself?"

The pale unicorn stared at Colgate.

He...nodded.

Carrot finally broke her formal silence--a whole twenty-five minutes' worth, given the slow pensive hoofwriting.  "Colgate, may I?"  The tone carried only a hint of the old disgust but otherwise sounded calm--even sedate.

"You may."

The next words were not aimed at Colgate.  "How did you learn of all of this before your time?  You aren't even old enough to know any of that.  Are you really able to read our minds?"

Colgate prepared the next round of tea while the pale unicorn responded.

There isn't much value in explaining the complete process.  Simply put, the pale unicorn asked you these questions, and you provided answers.  In order to understand you more deeply, he gently asked that you would speak your thoughts aloud now and again, so that they could be known.

The mind is a far more inscrutable and foreign a structure than, for example, a room or a house.  One's conscience may perceive one's own mind as such in order to evaluate it in a more comfortable and palatable form; but in attempting to visit the mind of another, only the full complexity can be addressed--and it is truly staggering.  To leave a message requesting delivery is a far, far easier task than to steal by force.  There are no rooms to explore.  There is no jewelry box to loot.  That analogy would be much too simple.

Colgate returned with prepared cups a moment later, giving Carrot her lump again in the process.  Carrot gently requested Colgate to read the recent passage aloud upon receiving her cup, and Colgate just invited her back to the table instead.  She immediately read it and turned sour.  At least she didn't speak so forcefully this time.

"Which 'you' are you referring to?  I asked this question, not Cole."

Colgate responded to this rosily.  "He's trying to help me.  It should be obvious.  You ask too many questions..."  Her outward weariness seemed finally to be catching up with her.

The mares eyed each other.  Carrot smirked for an instant before settling down toward the book, head low against the table, sipping the hot tea with outstretched lips.  Colgate followed with much the same course of action.

The pale unicorn continued.



You might once have called him "my little kitchen demon".  Though he had other methods of acquiring the necessities of life, taking bits of your food was simply the most convenient.  You tolerated it for quite some time, even after attempting preventative measures, because you wanted whomever was taking it to be satisfied.  You were a fortunate young mare, and others were not so fortunate.  You knew a few who suffered in Ponyville, but you had seen many more on Berry's great journey.  It was better that this demon should be happy.

The demon's only real concern at the time, however, was the well-being of this new household.  Berry and her baby caused you stress in the cramped space.  He was not equipped to help with that, however: he was but a foal himself.  But he could help you in the long hours you worked to sustain the unit you all had become.

He streamlined schedules.  He set up conferences.  He helped fetch needed books of law and historical documents when you indicated a need for them--putting them in plain sight.  He did whatever he could to repay the kindness and stability you unwittingly provided to him.  But it never seemed to be enough.

Then, the incident



Colgate interrupted once again.  She seemed almost to be dozing off.  "So you were trying to help me?  Did you ever think that maybe you weren't helping at all?  How old were you--5 or 6 or 7, maybe?  All I remember is finding my notes jumbled up and my books strewn all around, and ponies showing up for meetings I never booked.  I didn't think it was me--I thought it was..."  Her eyes widened; her ears perched backward.  Her voice, however, only elevated a few tones.  "No, it was you, wasn't it?  You...do you know what you did?  Do you even know?  Do you know how much you were putting the whole town at risk?"

The pale unicorn merely continued.



It never seemed to be enough.

Then, the incident changed everything.  The demon, or the assistant, or the young pale unicorn--he helped you with a Winter Wrap Up, twelve years ago.  Your mentor had recently retired, and that was your first time running the operation yourself.  He helped you.  But he couldn't help enough.



Carrot spoke softly from her laying-head position.  "Or...you did the harm yourself.  Like a shinigami...killing the body he possesses..."

The pale unicorn continued.



You set up the scoring for the ice to melt.  And the scoring never actually happened, as the team setting to that had already committed to helping the ground animal team.  Then the ground animal team, in mixed messages to one another, believed the job had already been done.  So many animal dens were never awoken, and their late arousal led to much strife and suffering in the natural world.  The pegasus animal and weather teams, however, received their proper messages.  That message's exchange involved darting through cloud cover--cover that concealed the teams as they blindly crashed into one another.

Berry remembers what happened after that.  But you do not.  The story of your life since then has been spotty and confusing and occasionally self-conflicting.

The pale unicorn was...and is a part of the reason for that.



Colgate rushed with all due haste to wake Carrot, who had passed completely into slumber.  She grumbled and came about soon enough.

"Carrot...Carrot!  Did you get that?  He knows about my memory loss.  Maybe he can help me...yeah, he can..."  She was fighting the sandmare herself, but she sounded painfully, exquisitely excited behind that drowsy veil.

The pale unicorn considered the two mares sloppily piled against one another.  He considered the teacup sitting before him.  He considered the mostly bare walls and the piles of papers sitting on shelves.  He considered the recently vacated stool to his left--not a chair and not red, but it would do for the memories about to be brought back.

This is where the story continues, friends.  However, it cannot be forced to do so.  The choice is yours, Colgate.  If you fear it will harm you too much, then do not proceed.  If your hope for restoration would precede you, however...here is what you must know.

The average pony has no idea how much of their life is dominated by divine concepts--by word, by tune, and by emotion.  As intelligent beings, self-aware ponies can tap into that--can recognize the true song of life, of the world, of everything.  There is a magic in some songs--a spell that transcends the rules and boundaries ponies know.

The pale unicorn discovered the magic of one of these songs in his studies, several years before learning of its true significance.  But he knew back then how it could help you, Colgate.

Sing the song, Colgate...and remember.  Remember what the pale unicorn suppressed from your thought in order to spare you unending grief.  Let the memories hung on the song's spell return.  Let your wisdom and your friends support you as you remember.

Colgate had her hoof over her mouth, vainly seeking to conceal her aphonic awe.

Even Carrot was stunned this time.  Her only struggle was a single aside remark: "I...have to write about this..."

It is the song the goddesses sang to remember the forgotten fallen, if but for a moment.  But they only sang pieces, for they feared cosmic retribution if they should hold fast and cling to the thoughts.  But for you, it is no requiem.  You can sing it all...and it all may return to you.

"This...this is way too much.  Please--I need a moment."  Colgate got up from her chair, slowly, and her hooves and thoughts paced about the room around the table--then arriving at her bedroom window, contemplating the power being offered to her.

Carrot's eyes conveyed the desire to ask questions, but she somehow felt this not to be the right time.  Instead, she relaxed and offered her own brand of assurance.  "You know that you'll have to go through with this.  It's not right for anypony to take your thoughts from you, no matter what the reason.  But I have another idea.  We should get Berry here first.  She can give you the fuller perspective.  She'll be happy to see you return.  She must want this for you...so bad...  How long has she gone on..."  She unexpectedly lost her train of thought as her lethargy drifted back, obliterating coherency.

In that short span, however, Colgate had already begun breathing fast, her mind ablaze with desire.  She resumed her pacing, apparently not even having considered the thoughts from without while being so absorbed in her own.

The pale unicorn turned his head to face Colgate directly.  This caught her attention, but it took a few seconds for her to respond and round to his side.

But Berry is with us right now.  Look behind that corner stand.  Look at what you have forgotten.  "Don't forget to remember me."  That is what she told you.

After peering at this, she rushed--almost falling flat in ataxic incoordination--to that half-height shelf and pushed it aside.  She extracted from there a framed portrait, coated thick with dust.  With a hearty blow, she cleaned its image.  Carrot could hardly peek an eye up as the sandmare set onto her yet again.

There in the picture, Minuette and Berryshine embraced one another with a single hoof each, facing forward with terrific joy radiating from their faces.  Nestled snugly in the space between them, a tiny foal sat.  Her features were not distinct in the small photo, but the patch of vibrant pink shined through.

Colgate moaned so softly as her expression crested, a river of elysian elation.  She kept most of that deep within, quietly cherishing the stirring of a set-apart chakra of positivity; still, as her soul lapped up the warmth as a kitten would milk, she tugged the picture ever tighter against her chest, threatening to break the frame.

"Yes, I can have it back.  I can have you again, Berr.  And you can have me!"

How she knew the words to a song she'd never played, nopony may ever know.  But she wanted you to remember.  She wanted you to remember on your own.  You were not ready.  Perhaps you are still not ready.  But now, you will have that chance--and the sun will shine.  Today, the song is yours.

The song is too sacred to inscribe in this story; to it, the story is nothing.  But he could prepare the first few lines on a scrap for Colgate to read, just to remind her.  He did so.  And she grabbed it, automatically, as if it were her only mission in life, and read it.  And she knew the tune.  She knew this tune.  She knew every note and every word, written on sheet music on the back of the scales of her eyes.

And so she sang.  She carried the notes with all the grace and gentility an unpracticed singer could afford them.  Though not embellished or gilded in any fashion, every word was sung to the right pitch.

Almost immediately, her eyes welled with the liquid salt of passion.  She pushed on, her voice wavering once or twice, only to find more strength as she fought the pain of her own revelations.  It eventually stirred Carrot again, who came back from the edge of mental vacancy and knew the beauty her ears beheld.  Somehow, she wanted to share in those tears as well, but she could only listen.

Then, about three-quarters into the passage, she stumbled.  "So I cry...your...name...and loooove... / The thought...to me...is life, and how...near--"  Her tone gradually broke, and the line ended, and she fell.  Colgate fell.

Carrot silently wished for the song to continue.  But something was wrong.

Wheezing, high, unsteady, a broken tea kettle: "Something's wrong...  Pale guy!  Help me!  I can't...I can't see!  Everything hurts!  My chest...it hurts...Pale guy!  Do something!"

She continued, but her sounds were as gasps.  She could not speak freely as something overtook her.  Not tears...sweat.  Sweat poured out of her.  "I can't...  Help me!  Ahhh!"

Her breaths got shallower.  "You didn't...do this...  It's...  I want to...  See...  Berry again.  My chest...  Hospital..."  She gasped a last deeper breath, though she crumpled into the fetal position from a fresh shock of pain in the process.  The words rode only on vital air; her voice had perished.  "Help me!"

She couldn't even cry properly from the failure to breathe.

Carrot could barely move.  She could only watch, her head atop the table, as her boon companion writhed and heaved.

The pale unicorn stopped writing.  The story diverged anew.





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