Writing History
Chapter Four
The Pinkie Parable

I watch the scenery speed by while the carriage softly rocks back and forth. The sound of the wheels on the tracks alternates with gentle bumps as we pass over various imperfections in the railing. Looking down at the ground, the scenery makes way for a blur of shapes and colours. The further I look down, the less I can recognize, until there is nothing but a vague grey and brown blur next to the heavy metal wheels of the train. The last time I went anywhere by train, it was being pulled by Earth Ponies and was nowhere near as fast. The hanging lamp in our cabin flickers as the train passes over an intersection. The scenery outside is replaced with a pressing white cloud of steam that the locomotive had freshly pumped into the air. This train, in every sense of the phrase, is an amazing feat of technological engineering.

I quickly raise a hoof to my mouth as I’m hit with yet another stab of nausea. Ugh… looks like I have something new to add to my ever growing list of reasons to hate steam-engines. I had never felt motion sickness in something horse drawn. With a grim expression I look at my companions across from me. Stratos is pressing against the window, eager to take in every square meter of scenery we pass by. For what it’s worth, she seems to notice how much being on the train was taking a toll on me.

My stomach responds to the mention of food with a series of flip-flops. I quickly push the mare away from the window and magically throw it open before emptying the contents of my stomach outside. I watch with the utmost melancholy as my last meal from Canterlot is swept away in the wind. What a waste of a perfectly good breakfast. After the reaction subsides, I somehow find my voice.

Stratos, the ever ignorant soul responsible for my most recent stomach flop, nods before eagerly returning to her spirited conversation with Werk.

Next to her, Werk sits casually on the couch with his forelegs slumped over the backseat. ‘That’s what I heard. Apparently she found his idea so ridiculous she repeated it over the intercom so the entire Rainbow Factory could have a laugh at it too. Haughbury doesn’t care much for being publically mocked, that’s for sure.’

He laughs at what I can only assume to be a humorous memory and jumps off the couch. He flexes his wings before grinning at me. I squint my eyes at the Pegasus as he trots to his saddlebags and rummages through them. After a while his face appears from one of them, with an apple in his mouth. My stomach heavily protests as he bites into it as noisily as possible. Werk seems extremely amused by my all too visual discomfort.

‘You know, Waren… I knew you hated steam engines, but I never knew they hated you too.’ I can do nothing but glare at the entirely too smug Pegasus. My traitorous friend, already used to moving around at high speeds, isn’t impressed in the slightest by our means of transportation.

‘If I were to guess,’ He pauses to take another loud bite of his apple in my general direction, ‘I’d say trains are just a way for me to go somewhere without tiring out my wings.’

I return to my seat, hoping sitting down will ease the nausea somewhat. Stratos returns to her conversation with Werk with a giggle. ‘Tha’ totally sounds like somethin’ Miss Dash would do.’

‘I don’t know about Miss Dash, but Haughbury certainly seems to have an affinity for getting kicked out of wherever he’s trying to sell stuff. We factory hooves even have a pool going on every time he leaves to go pitch an idea on how bad he’ll mess up. Won big once, too. Pony went and got kicked out of Prance, of all places.’

Stratos perks up at the new information. ‘He got kicked out of a country? How did he manage to do tha’?’

‘Okay, so here’s what happened: He was trying to sell his latest line of carriages, but negotiations didn’t really go in his favour. He got it into his head it would be a good idea to point out how the pregnant Princess was looking “a little chubby around the edges”, and that he was willing to throw some exercise machines into the deal for free. Her husband ran him all the way out to the border and two hundred bits right into my pocket.’ His grin falters as he continues, ‘Then I lost twice that when he got exclusive selling rights to Minotauros.’

He takes an exceptionally large bite from his apple. The sight upsets my stomach to such an extent I could almost imagine it popping right off of me and out the door. Through nothing more than sheer willpower, I keep my internal organs in place. Werk seems to notice my discomfort and removes the apple from his mouth to reveal a devilish smile.

Oh, how about that. My stomach found some leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. Wonderful. I hastily focus my magic to open the window while attempting to keep the food inside. For the second time, I bid farewell to my culinary memories of Canterlot as the wind blows the contents of my stomach away. Hardly amused, I return inside to the laughing stallion I have the dubious honour of calling my friend. I note that, now that I no longer have anything in my belly to vomit into the surrounding countryside, my stomach has settled ever so slightly.

‘There are very few things on this planet, including the current death trap we’ve entrusted our lives to, that I hate more than you right now,’ I inform my friend, feeling too sick to even bother with sarcasm. Grinning, he takes a bite from yet another apple. In his defence, the apple is juicy. Wiping the fluids from his muzzle, Werk responds.

‘Eat to your heart’s content, but mark my words. I will have my revenge.’

Werk laughs at my hardly threatening remark. I suppose I don’t look very dangerous, having just emptied my stomach twice. Once because of seeing an apple, and a second time because of being on this train. But I have every intention of living up to my words. I have no idea how to get back at him yet, but my revenge will be sweet.

…Sweet? An unfortunate choice of words, my twisting stomach tells me. The fact that I no longer have anything to throw up doesn’t stop it from trying. I look out the window again; I can’t bear to watch Werk finish his apple. In the distance, I can just spot the peak of the mountain Canterlot was constructed against. Hidden amongst a large mountain range, it hardly stands out. But I know that the peak is slightly taller than the mountains surrounding it. In fact, the only mountain in Equestria that dwarfs the cities’ is Dragon’s Spire. However, if I am to believe Dorothea’s stories, and I do, Gryphos is home to entire ranges of mountains that make even Dragon’s Spire seem like a meaningless mole hill. I winch away from the window as the train thunders into a tunnel. Suddenly the sound of wheels on tracks is replaced by an infinitely echoed version of it. I have trouble thinking straight as the thunder of steel on steel drills into my skull. After what seems like an eternity, the grey blur of the tunnel is replaced by a blinding sunlight. I raise a hoof to shield my eyes as I blink away the sudden brightness.

I remember something about a tunnel on our route. It shouldn’t be much further until Ponyville, something not lost to the other occupants in the cart.

‘We’re close now, ain’t we? There was only one tunnel, and it was close to Ponyville.’

Stratos jumps up from the couch and presses her face against the window again. I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm. Werk laughs and gets up to look out the window next to her. After a short while I surrender to my curiosity and join my friends. The scenery is significantly more green now, trees dotting the landscape everywhere in sight.

‘Look! Is that the Everfree forest?’ Stratos excitedly asks, sounding like a filly on her birthday party.

I laugh. Had I been unable to see her cutie mark, I would have seriously doubted she was old enough to have one.

With a loud cringe worthy thud, Stratos glues her face to the glass window once again. I drop myself onto the bench. Staring out the window wasn’t an activity my stomach wanted to participate in. With a grin, Werk drops down next to me. However, this wasn’t a let’s-get-Waren-to-throw-up-again kind of grin. This was my friend realizing we are finally on our way. A smile finds its way onto my face as well. Sure, the trip itself was horror. But we are really on our way. We left Canterlot behind. I closed the store and paid the rent in advance. Werk quit his job. There’s no turning back now. We are going to do this. We are going to the Everfree forest. To find the princesses’ old castle so I can write a book about it. To have an adventure, so that Werk can feel alive again after miserable years in the factory numbed his very being. And so that Stratos can prove herself to the Pegasi in Cloudsdale and become the first Unicorn weather pony. I let out a deep breath.

‘Hang in there Waren, we’re almost there,’ Werk reassures me with a grin. I roll my eyes at the remark.

‘If you would have kept your apple to yourself I would be perfectly content digesting the rest of yesterday’s dinner,’ I shoot back. Stratos drops on the couch across from us.

Taken aback by the sudden question, Werk cocks an eyebrow. ‘Weren’t we already talking about him?’

‘Ah mean, what kind of pony is he? Ah’m trying t’ figure out why Waren hates him so much. He doesn’t sound like that bad of a pony.’

I roll my eyes again. I don’t even bother telling her I can’t hate a pony I never met. Even if I wanted to tell her, I had decided to take every opportunity to keep my mouth shut until I was safely of this train. Werk clears his throat.

‘He’s really the textbook example of a polarizing pony. You either love him like the Tsar and his family in Minotauros, or you hate him… like… uhm… everypony else. Like the Prench royalty and how he thought the Princess looked fat.’

With a decisive nod to herself, Stratos responds, ‘Sounds like he just needs t’ learn… uhm... subtlety, I think. That’s wha’ Waren’s always telling me t’ learn, at least.’

‘No, it’s not really that he doesn’t know how to deal with other ponies, he just doesn’t care much about it. He’s very… ambitious, yes, that’s the word. Every day, he’s always working on his machines, trying to find ways to improve them. That sounds like a good thing, and from his point of view, it probably is, but his machines are all he cares about. Even when he’s talking to somepony, chances are he’s already working on that next big invention in his head.’

I listen with half an ear to the explanation on Haughbury. I heard the story before, of course. But Werk was closer to the pony than the ones spreading rumours on the streets of Canterlot.

‘He often comes off as bitter, cold, and rude. But he is passionate about the things he cares about... It’s just that those things aren’t ponies.’

‘When I met him, which was when I started working in his factory, it was already like that. However, the older workers quickly told me it used to be even worse. From what I heard, a terrible tragedy had taken place a couple of years before that and, well, it changed him completely.’

The other half of my ears join in attention. A tragedy? Now there is something the gossip in Canterlot failed to touch upon.

‘Now, I’m not sure about any of this part, it’s just what I heard from a pony who heard it from another pony who heard it from another pony, okay? But the rumours on the factory floor say he was in love. Some variations even have him married, to this beautiful unicorn who was just as ambitious as he was. Together, they developed an amazing new technology. Combining his earth pony ingenuity with her magic, they created a hybrid engine that easily outshines even the steam-engine on this train. Together, with their love, they created something that was greater than the sum of what either was capable off alone. They worked for the good of all of pony kind.’

‘I’m getting to the tragic part now. As you might have noticed, there are no hybrid engines. Despite all of their work and love they put into it, the project was a failure. Maybe the metal was too thin, or they didn’t use enough bolts. Maybe the problem was on the magic side, I don’t know. Whatever the reason, one day, under the most unfortunate of circumstances imaginable, a test run went haywire and it blew up in their faces. Haughbury’s wife – or marefriend, or whatever – didn’t make it.’

Along with Stratos’s, my ears droop. That was a part of Haughbury’s past I wasn’t familiar with. Haughbury was a pony very few citizens of Canterlot ever actually saw, even though he was such a vital part – for better or worse – of their daily lives. Despite that, I doubt there is a single pony in Canterlot that doesn’t gossip about him. Most of those stories have him being a machine himself, or other tall tales. This story though… it just seems too depressing to be a mere fabrication.

Werk sighs. ‘Ever since then the hybrid project was scrapped. Right after the incident, his passion for machines became an obsession. He locked himself in his workshop and the shifts in the factory were brutal. It became so bad a representative from the court actually had to drag him out of his office and remind him his workers weren’t made of steel and gears themselves. Things got better after that… though I suspect Haughbury still wouldn’t mind if his workers were machines.’

The mood in the cabin weighs down on us as we all stay silent for a few moments. ‘Uhm… Just rumours, of course.’ Werk weakly offers in an attempt to salvage the conversation.

I almost feel bad for hating Haughbury’s engines so much now. After a while, Werk softly starts talking to Stratos about the machinery behind the monstrosity providing our transportation, Stratos doesn’t listen as she presses her face against the window again, and I attempt to keep what little remains inside my stomach actually there.

Suddenly, the cabin violently shakes as the sound of the wheels on rails is joined by that of the brakes. Stratos almost falls over, her horn scraping over the glass window. After regaining her composure, she presses her face against it so hard I start to fear that it might crack.

We join the unicorn at the window and spot buildings rolling by, instead of just trees. The buildings are of simple construction, compared to those in Canterlot. But it gives them a much homelier feeling. Each house is unique in a way, no streets filled with endless copies of the same building. Odd spectrums pass by the window, a blue house, a yellow house, and even a pink house. From my first judgement, I’d say Ponyvillians have to be a jovial bunch.

With a sound of thousands of hooves on a blackboard the train comes to a standstill in a small train station. I almost feel bad for disturbing the peaceful town by arriving here in this steam-powered monstrosity. As if on cue, the locomotive lets out a long wheeze while puffing one last cloud into the air. After a few seconds of eerie silence, Stratos turns around in glee. Her face beams with an intensity unlike anything I have seen before.

‘We’re here!’ she screams in excitement as she bolts out the door, knocking aside Werk. The Pegasus crashes to the floor, spilling the contents of his saddlebags full of apples all over the cabin.

Despite having just been positively manhandled, Werk finds it in himself to grin and quips, ‘Well, at least we don’t have to doubt Stratos is happy to be here.’

‘Yes, that sure cleared up a giant cloud of doubt.’ I let out a sigh before turning towards the door of the cabin. ‘Let’s go after her before she gets in trouble already.’

I proceed to trot out the cabin, until I am stopped by Werk’s voice. ‘Uhm… Waren? We might already be too late. Look.’

I hurry back into the cabin, and look out the window in the direction my friend is pointing. And sure enough, I spot Stratos waving down two elderly mares. This causes me to panic. Now, you might be wondering why. Surely nothing bad can come from simply waving down some old ponies? Maybe have a nice talk, get invited over for some tea and biscuits, the regular deal. But then you would be forgetting that, chances are, you aren’t Stratos. A pony notorious for scaring ponies half to death with her casual hobby of jumping off buildings. So it was for the safety of everypony involved that I galloped out of the cabin.

‘Hurry Werk! Damage control! We can’t afford to get a bad name in this town already!’

As I gallop through the train looking for an exit, I hear a soft movement of wind behind me. After being the Pegasus’s best friend for the better part of my life I found it impossible not to associate the sound with Werk following closely behind. After spotting an exit, I (unnecessarily) leap the distance between the train and the station and look around. After spotting the blue coat I was looking for, I break into gallop again. Werk, clearly not as concerned about the safety of others as myself, sighs before reluctantly following me. As I approach the scene of the crime, I quickly jump between the mares and Stratos to protect them.

‘Hello! I’m so sorry about my friend here; I hope she’s not causing any trouble. You’re not causing trouble, are you, Stratos?’

The three mares look at me with an assortment of raised eyebrows. The older mares give me an especially puzzled look. Struggling not to return a raised eyebrow, I note the two form a strange combination. One of the two being a white coated Unicorn with the most gorgeous of curled purple manes and wearing a pair of red glasses. Her companion, on the other hand, is a pink Earth Pony with a mane that can only be described as cotton candy, albeit with streaks of grey hidden amongst the overwhelming pink. The white Unicorn shoots a demeaning stare over her glasses towards me before addressing Stratos.

‘I say, darling, does your friend always make a point of rudely interrupting conversations like this?’

I blink as I release what the mare has said, and note Stratos giving me a somewhat angry look. ‘Wait, you were… talking?’

‘Of course silly! What else would we be doing?’ The pink earth pony happily states.

My mind goes over scenarios of varying doom as I think over what Stratos could have done. Firstly, there’s burning down the entire town, followed by causing a freak thunderstorm, somehow managing to pretend to fall to her death, and of course, the worst of all, loudly proclaiming I have a crush on a griffin for all to hear. Actually, now that I think about it, Stratos having a casual conversation was the last thing I would have thought of. Yet it appears that is the case here. Werk, having caught up, is quick to point out how wrong I was.

‘See, Waren? Nothing to worry about. Now, I’ll go get those apples before the train leaves. They make up almost half of our supply, you know.’

Before Werk can fly away, however, a loud gasp escapes the white unicorn. We all turn our heads towards her to a white hoof shakingly pointing towards my friend.

Confused, Werk places a hoof on his head. Not finding anything, he raises an eyebrow at the mare. ‘Huh? You mean… my mane?’

The unicorn immediately shakes her head as she trots up Stratos. ‘Oh no no. You misunderstand. That is not a mane. Look at this beautiful black hair, with the most adorable shades of yellow!’

Leaving a blushing grin on Stratos’s face, she trots up to me. ‘And this bold crimson mane! Hmm… those shades of grey are a tad old fashioned though. Say, dear, have you considered dying your hair?’

‘Uhm… Not really.’ With a disapproving click of her tongue, the mare focuses on Werk again.

‘A shame, but an understandable one. In any event, these are manes. But what you have there, darling, there is no excuse for that… that crime against beauty!’

‘Oh Rarity! Cut them some slack, they only just arrived here!’ The pink Earth Pony says with a giggle. The Unicorn, apparently named Rarity responds by throwing her mane behind her back with a ‘Hmph’ that would have no trouble finding it’s place in the royal court of Canterlot.

‘All the more reason to let me fix that hair as soon as possible, I say! You don’t want to make a bad impression, now do you?’

Werk lowers to the ground and folds his wings in contemplation. ‘Uhm… No I suppose not. But we’re just passing through, Miss. We’re headed to Everfree forest.’

‘Oh please, call me Rarity. And a forest Everfree may be, that doesn’t mean it should be free of a good sense of beauty! I simply insist you allow me to help you in your situation.’

Rarity stomps her hoof on the ground to add force to the statement. Werk uneasily takes a step back before answering.

‘That’s really kind of you to offer, Miss Rarity, but I’m afraid we can’t afford a makeover right now.’

To compensate for my friend’s step backward, the mares takes one forward. ‘That’s quite okay, darling. You wouldn’t ask for bits to save some poor pony from a burning building, now would you? This is very much the same,’ she says with a gleam in her eyes as she takes yet another step forward. ‘In fact, this is far, far worse.’

As Werk tries to find an answer that would get him out of this situation, I suddenly remember what I promised him in the train. When the Pegasus speaks up again, I decide to help him find the right words.

‘Yes. Werk would love to get his hair fixed, thank you.’ I cheerfully finish his sentence for him. He gives me a panicked look as the white Unicorn’s face lights up in glee.

Before Werk can protest, he is abruptly wrapped in blue magic and lifted off his hooves. As he looks at me in confused panic, I give him a wry smile. His eyes widen as I mouth ‘Revenge’.

‘And once we’re done with your mane, I can already picture a fabulous hat and cloak combo that would go absolutely dashingly with that regal grey of yours!’

‘I have an idea! While your friend is at Rarity’s, why don’t I show you around town?’ The pink Earth Pony suggests, receiving an approving nod from Miss Rarity.

‘Splendid idea, Pinkamena. Now, do try to avoid covering our guests in pudding this time.’

‘Don’t worry Rarity! The welcome cart broke years ago. Geez, and they say my memory is bad!’

‘Okay then, I’ll get to work. You can pick up your friend at my boutique this afternoon. Pinkamena, don’t forget to show our guests where that is, okay?’

‘Okie dokie lokie!’ The pink mare happily confirms. Her manner of speech has absolutely no correlation to her age, and the words sound strange, coming from a mouth surrounded by wrinkled skin.

The unicorn smiles at her friend, and polite nods at me and Stratos. We return the nod and she trots away, a grey Pegasus floating behind her. With his hooves helplessly flailing under him, Werk tries to escape from the Unicorns grasp. After failing to do so, he looks at me with panicked eyes.

‘Have fun Werk! We’re looking forward to your new style!’ I call out, waving a hoof after him as he is carried out of sight by the unicorn. Not as good as doing something personally, but revenge works in strange ways. That’ll teach him to make me throw up. Stratos looks at me with a hint of worry in her eyes.

The corners of my mouth turn up as I imagine Werk getting a forceful makeover. He never did take proper care of that assortment of hair he calls a mane. Maybe this will shine a new light on him, and he will realise how easy it is to keep it in relatively good condition. Alternatively, and far more likely, he’ll probably just stubbornly refuse to learn anything from the ordeal. Either way, it will still make my friend think twice before laughing at my threats again. I turn my attention to the pink Earth Pony, who, to my surprise, is still waving in the direction Miss Rarity took Werk.

‘Uhm… Miss?’ I carefully address her. She blinks and looks at me with surprise.

‘Oh! Hello! Who are you? Are you new in town? I don’t remember seeing you before, but that doesn’t mean a lot these days.’

She forgot us already? It seems that in her eagerness and excitement, the old mare’s mind struggles to keep up with her mouth. Well, at least she’s aware of it herself.

After a brief moment of contemplation, the mare’s face lights up with understanding, and she happily skips ahead of us. ‘That does sound like something I’d say! Okie Dokie, follow me!’

With surprising agility, the mare bounces up and down as we trot after her. If her old age was causing her any aches or troubles, she’s certainly not showing it. Judging by the grey hairs in her mane, and wrinkles on her face, she is at least old enough to have grand foals. Though her words and actions suggest she is still just a filly herself. As she jumps ahead, I take note of her cutie mark. The three balloons on her flank rather stand out. Those balloons, I can only assume on an Earth Pony, probably mean her special talent involves an event coordinator or maybe a party planner.

The pink mare abruptly stops and turns around, causing me to almost run into her.

‘So, what are your names?’ She asks, her face mere centimetres from mine. Awkwardly pointing a hoof towards the giggling blue unicorn next to me, I respond ‘This is Stratos. My name is Waren, and the Pegasus with Miss Rarity is called Werk.’

The mare puts some distance between her face and mine as she takes a step back with a smile. ‘Werk? That’s a funny name! I’m Pinkie Pie, nice to meet you!’

‘Oh please, call me Pinkie! Only the fillies and colts call me Pie, they’re such a formal bunch!’

After a short giggle, the old pony quickly bounces ahead of us again. She greets nearly every pony we pass by, each of which eagerly returns a wave, smile, or greeting of their own. With a permanent bounce in her old joints, she shows us around town, telling us various stories about all the places we pass. Most of the stories involve obscene amounts of balloons and sugar. We quickly learn of the cake shop Sugarcube Corner, where Miss Pinkie resides. I can’t say I’m surprised, really. To reach such levels of energy you’d have to live somewhere that always has a supply of cupcakes at hoof.

I blink and suddenly, the pink mare is nowhere to be found. Panicked, I look around. Not only would we be lost if she was gone, but it will take a lot of explaining to do if we lost Miss Rarity’s friend. However, a bubbly voice from down an alleyway quickly points us in the direction of our tour guide. We quickly trot through the alley and find a large tower-like building.

It is by far the largest piece of architecture I have seen here so far, and judging by the rest of Ponyville, it’s probably supposed to pass as authoritarian. It is surrounded by a large open space where a large group of ponies is busy setting up something. Our pink guide is talking to a disgruntled looking pony wearing strangely familiar blue robes.

‘Why? Are you holding an auction? What are you selling?’ she asks the particularly familiar looking orange earth pony.

‘No Miss, no auction. We would like to get back to work now, if you will.’ He responds, clearly trying to get rid of the energized mare bothering him. He looks over to me, and I instantly recognize him. His face lights up as he recognized me as well.

‘Well, no. I mean, yes. I mean, I sold him a book. A few months back.’ I explain to the mare. The orange earth pony nods in agreement at my words.

‘Indeed! The Elements of Harmony, A Reference Guide. It took me days to find a store that had that old book in stock. And only twenty bits at that. Quite the deal if you ask me.’

I laugh uncomfortably as I recall that day, and the fact that I sold the same book a little while after he visited. Stratos seems to recall the same, and blurts out, ‘Twenty? Dorothea told me she paid fifteen bits for that book.’

My uncomfortable, forced laugh gets stuck in my throat as the earth pony frowns at me. It’s not like I intended to charge a different price, it’s just hard to think straight with an outraged griffin clawing at your throat. Thankfully the incredibly painful silence doesn’t last long, as we are in the company of not one, but two ponies completely oblivious to social situations.

‘A circus then! You’re a circus! I just know it!’ Miss Pinkie giggles. The orange pony grunts and runs a hoof though his mane as he turns his attention to Miss Pie. I grimace when even though he was no longer looking at me, the petulant frown remains.

‘Fine, if I tell you we are a circus, will you please leave us be? We have a stage to set up.’

‘… Miss… Could you please let us get back to work? Surely you must have something, anything better you could be doing instead?’

‘Oh no! I forgot!’ she exclaims, her voice resonating with genuine dread. The orange earth pony takes this opportunity to roll his eyes and quickly distance himself from the source of his bothers. Miss Pinkie turns towards Stratos and me.

Her words fall short as her eyes meet Stratos’s. She gives the unicorn a strange, judging look. I sigh. Looks like any hopes we could be nicely and quietly shown around town are shattered.

I’m starting to think that those balloons of hers signify the fleeting properties of her memory as much as her special talent.

Our trip so far could best be described as a long series of mishaps that have taken place over the past few hours, from Werk taking every pleasure imaginable as I vomited my last taste of Canterlot, to Stratos sneaking out of our cart and getting banned from the engine room, to Stratos sneaking off again and getting banned from the conductor’s carriage, to Stratos-

To Stratos…to Stratos flailing her hooves around wildly from the back of the old pink mare as she bounces away faster than most ponies can run…

Regrettably, in the time it took me for the shock to wear off, the Pink Maned Bandit was nearly out of sight. ‘Stop! Fillynapper!’ I shout as I give chase.

I’d like to think I actually did a good job in trying to catch the Fillynapper. If it wasn’t for that building she hopped over – how in the world is that even possible?! How is that even fair?! – I would even have caught the crook and stop her from doing whatever vile wicked things old ladies with pink manes do to innocent mares like Stratos.

The sad truth of the matter, however, is that a lifetime behind a counter did little to prepare me for the rigors of criminal catching. I fall to the ground and groan before wincing slightly as I taste the remnants of my own vomit.

‘Stop…’ I pathetically wheeze out in the general direction of the building the pink mare just disappeared over.

I raise my head in the hopes of finding Werk, Stratos or anypony I know that can help me. Instead, an orange earth pony mare stands before me.

‘Okay?!’ I neigh and strike the ground with my hooves. ‘I’ve been in this town for at most twenty minutes and have somehow had both of my friends abducted by overly-assertive old ladies and have been forced to eject everything I’ve eaten in the past two days due to an obnoxious steam powered monstrosity. No, I would have to say that I am most certainly not okay, and that, pardon my Prench, everypony in this town is positively, absolutely, crazy!’

I pant after concluding my little rant. I have to admit; that helped. Still heavily breathing, I look at the pony in front of me, who, despite my outburst, smiles brightly at me in a vaguely apologetic manner. Only then do I notice she has to be quite an old pony. Virtually every hair of her mane is grey. Or at least the hairs that aren’t being covered up by a large leather cowcolt hat.

‘Is it that obvious?’ I ask grimacing, my anger subsiding, being replaced with embarrassment (Did I really just rant to a local about her own home?!). The mare before me chuckles.

‘Let’s just say ya ain’t the first pony to say somethin’ like that. Ya say ya friend got abducted? Lemme guess; Pink mare, too much energy for her age?’

The earth pony laughs and holds out a helping hoof. ‘If Ah were you, Ah’d try the library. Ah got a feeling your friend might be there.’ She tells me as I get back up, only holding her hoof out of politeness while being careful not to actually put any strain on it.

‘Right, the library.’ I look around at the expressive architecture of Ponyville. ‘So I’d be looking for a book-shaped building, I suppose?’

‘First thing ya ought t’ know ‘bout me, sugarcube, Ah don’t do the ‘hole lying business. Library’s two streets down, that way.’ She points her hoof behind me. ‘And Ah’ve got some advice for ya.’

I turn towards her again after having followed her pointing hoof with my head. I almost let out a yelp as I hastily catch an object heading for my head with my magic.

‘Lighten up!’ the mare calls out as she trots away. I look after her with a somewhat bewildered stare. Then I shake my head and take a look at what I had caught. I raise an eyebrow, and then shrug before putting the apple into my saddlebag and setting off for the library.

While my reasons for going there may be strange, the idea of a library does wonders for my mood. Libraries in a small town like this often have a smaller collection than those in Canterlot, but it’s precisely those very same small, rarely visited libraries where long lost literary jewels call home. If a rare book shows up in Canterlot, word gets around quickly and more often than not it will be snatched by the likes of Stanimir or the Royal Library before a pony like me can get his hooves on it. But here I could very well be the first pony that can genuinely tell if a book is rare or not that set hoof in that place for years.

As it turns out, the old mare’s description was spot on, assuming I wasn’t now standing in front of the other tree with windows in the neighbourhood. Why would Miss Pinkie bring Stratos here though? Before I can figure it out, a scream abruptly grabs my attention.

Instantly, my ears perk up in the direction of the sound. I like to think that after living with her for two months, I’ve become a fairly good judge of whether or not sounds like that come from Stratos’s mouth. And that was definitely my friend screaming in that library. I break into gallop and hurry to the literal tree house.

‘Hang on, Stratos. I’m coming!’ I shout as I burst through the door. I blink and look around to find… not much, actually. The curtains had been shut and the inside of the tree is so dark I can’t make out anything. Before my eyes can adjust however, I am abruptly – and not very gently – removed from the building by a field of telekinesis. Orange telekinesis. As Stratos’s magic dumps me outside, her head pokes out the door opening.

‘It ain’t yer cue yet!’ she hisses before slamming the door shut again. It’s all I can do to stare at the door, completely at a loss for words.

Not my cue?! What the hay is that mare on about? She screamed, I came rushing in to help her, and this is what I get? No, I decide. I will not stand for this. Not that I normally depend on Stratos to make sense, but the least she can do is explain herself before booting me out of a building!

‘Oh no! It’s the criminal mastermind Silvermane!’ Stratos returns dramatically, her cape blowing around her as she struck a pose.

‘Wha… What are you talking abou-‘ My voice trails off as my eyes finally adjust to the dark interior of the tree. Stratos stands next to a pile of comic books, one of which floats in front of her in a field of orange telekinesis. In front of her, a rather large group of foals stare at me with wide eyes. Behind them sits a smaller group of slightly older ponies, most of which glare in my general direction. And behind them hangs a poster that reads the following:

Weekly Dramatic Reading:
The Amazing Spider-Pony!
*Parents Welcome

My jaw drops. What?! A dramatic reading? My mind races as my eyes dart all over the scene. I quickly conclude several things. Firstly, Stratos is reading to a particularly enthralled group of foals. Secondly, this reading seems to be a reoccurring thing.

And thirdly, for the second time today, I might have just made a complete fool out of myself.

‘Silvermane,’ Stratos snaps me out of my bewilderment with sternness in her voice. ‘decided tha’ since he ain’t featured in this story, he would just sit this one out.’ She heavily motions towards the back of the room where the – I presume – parents were seated. My already red face reddens even more as I somewhat reluctantly scuffle to a vacant spot among the ponies. After I did so, Stratos smiles at me before returning her attention to the foals.

‘Sorry ‘bout that kids! He means well, though. Anyways, where was Ah? Oh, right!’ she clears her throat and adjusts the book floating in front of her. ‘Ah want pictures!’ she reads in a heavy voice, ‘Pictures o’ Spider-Pony!’

I retreat into my thoughts to escape the shame and the stares from the ponies around me as Stratos continues to entertain the group of foals. I sigh. This really wasn’t how I expected our adventure to begin. Well… for what it’s worth, Stratos seems to at least be enjoying herself. The foals seem to love her as well. However, somepony has some explaining to do after all this. I’m not entirely sure how many more of these twists and turns I can take today…

I keep myself at a distance as the foals and parents say goodbye to Stratos. I overhear a unicorn filly whisper something about my mane not being silver at all. I choose to take that as a compliment and patiently wait for a moment to have a word with Stratos. As she waves goodbye to the last two colts, I trot up to her.

‘Ain’t it obvious? Ah was reading to some nice kids! Miss Pinkie told me –‘ as if waiting for her name to be called out, the pink earth pony jumps out from behind Stratos.

‘You were soooo good! I just knew you would be perfect! Didn’t I tell you she’d be perfect Spike?’ The ball of cotton candy aims her question behind me. A loud – but most prominently, low – laughter erupts from that same direction.

‘My name is Waren Pledgeworth and I’d like to apolog-Whoah!’ I interrupt myself halfway through the sentence.

I am a pony. I grew up in a city of ponies and for the most part have lived solely with ponies. Sure, I’ve met plenty of minotaurs, mules, and more recently even a griffin. If you live in one of the biggest tourist spots in Equestria like Canterlot, that’s a given.

I yelp in surprise and almost knock over a statue in the corner of the room as I clumsily collide with it. Instead, I find myself knocked over and lying on the floor. Baffled, I look up the dragon once more.

‘Wha-wha-what?’ I manage to croak out to the draconic creature. Not quite the most descriptive of questions, but under the circumstances I feel like that summed up my feelings rather nicely. The dragon lets out a breath as he raises a claw to rub his brow.

I can’t be completely sure yet, but I think this means my question didn’t turn out to mean “I am a tasty snack so please eat me” in dragon language. Go me.

‘Waren. My name is Waren. And I’m fairly certain you never told me about Spike in the first place. Let alone his, erm...draconic nature, or the fact you planned on taking my friend here.’

The dragon lets out a sigh, filling the air with green smoke. With an apologetic smile, he offers me a purple claw. Still taken aback by the situation, I stare at the claw in bewilderment. I have never seen a dragon before now and was still amazed by the fact that he spoke. And now he’s offering to help me back on my hooves. Forcing myself to think straight, I conclude that all of those things are evidence backing up the theory the dragon won’t try to eat me.

Giving the purple scaled dragon a weak smile as I get back up using the offered claw, I mutter ‘Sorry about that… You just… surprised me, that’s all.’

‘That’s quite alright, Mr. Pledgeworth. My appearance tends to have that effect on new ponies. No need to worry though, I have absolutely no intention of eating you.’

In any other situation, I would have probably taken that the wrong way. But then again, I didn’t think I would find myself in a situation where a dragon reassures me I won’t be eaten. This dragon seems… well, civilised. I decide to smile at him, though the effectiveness of the smile is debatable. After a laugh that sends yet more greenish smoke into the air, the dragon introduces himself with a theatrical bow before offering me his claw again.

Taking the last few moments as proof that I don’t have much to fear from the dragon, I meet his claw with my hoof. Having experience in shaking hoof-claws definitely helps clear some of the awkwardness. ‘I’m Waren, likewise. I take it you already met Stratos?’

‘That I have. I must apologise for what happened though, since I was the one who requested Pinkie to find a new reader.’

‘That’s okay Doctor Spike! Ah had fun!’ Stratos reassures the dragon with a grin.

‘Since everything turned out fine, more or less, I can look past – wait what?! Doctor?’ I do a double take between Stratos and the dragon, settling on the dragon with wide eyes.

‘Yup! Spikey Wikey here is a respected member of the Canterlot Research Facility!’ Miss Pinkie happily states.

‘Oh Pinkie, please. We don’t want our guests to think I’m boastful, now do we?’ The dragon says, waving away Miss Pinkie’s words with a claw. Shortly after, he grins to reveal two rows of sharp teeth. ‘But yes, very well respected. I’m proud to say there’s more to this dragon than just breathing fire.’

I close my gaping mouth and attempt to put my mind in order. I never imagined I would meet a dragon in all of my days, let alone one with a doctorate! Just how many unlikely events are going to pile up on this adventure? I mean, we’re not even in the forest and I already have trouble comprehending the full scope of recent events.

With a look that I can only assume means amusement (I don’t claim to be an expert on reading draconic facial expressions) Spike motions to the stairwell.

‘I have a phoenix upstairs. Though Peewee is about to renew his cycle so he’s in not in a condition to have guests.’

I completely ignore the fact that he has a phoenix to begin with and skip straight to the thing that amazed me the most about that statement.

To my surprise, the dragon’s scales flush with crimson as he scratches the back of his head. ‘I uhm… was a child when I got him… It made more sense at the time. But enough about me! Tell us something about yourself. What brings two ponies such as yourselves to a town like Ponyville?’

‘We are just passing through, actually. Stratos, myself and our friend Werk are headed towards Everfree forest.’

As soon as the words leave my mouth, the dragon looks at us with worry. ‘The forest, you say? That’s a dangerous place for just three ponies to be under normal circumstances, especially so with the recent developments.’

The dragon crosses his arms and lets out a contemplated breath. ‘I’m not sure what’s causing it, but lately, the forest has been more vicious than normal. Even the plant life seems affected by it. I don’t want to sound like I’m telling you what to do, but at this point I highly advise you to stay clear of the Everfree forest.’

What? Not going into the forest? But… That’s what we came here for. That’s what this entire trip is about. I give Stratos a worried look, who returns it. Then I realise that even if we are just three ponies, we are far from three normal ponies. With determination in my eyes, I look at the dragon again.

‘Not that I don’t value your judgement, Doctor Spike, but I think we can handle ourselves.’

‘Ha ha! When I told you my title, I didn’t expect you to actually use it. I can never get used to the sound of ‘Doctor Spike’. But why this determination?’

‘Well, I don’t mean to brag, but with the books I’ve been reading over the past two months, I think I’m able to tell every single plant and creature apart. And Stratos over here is quite the mage, if you’ll believe it.’

Spike raises an eyebrow at Stratos, who blushes at my indirect compliment. ‘Oh? Not to sound demeaning, but at such a young age, what passes as ‘quite the mage’?’

Stratos steps forward, grinning again. I take a step backwards to give her room, and to observe Miss Pinkie and Spike with a grin of my own. After all, it’s not everyday you get to shock a real life dragon.

Now standing in the centre of the room, Stratos politely nods at the dragon and the Earth Pony, her stage cape billowing with some imaginary wind (though that too was probably Stratos getting into the mood). Planting her hooves firmly on the ground, she begins to channel magic into her horn. With an intense glow of orange magic, drips of water start to form around the unicorn. At first I think she intends to produce another miniature cloud, but I quickly join Spike and Miss Pinkie in amazement as the drips of water continue appearing. They float towards the ceiling, where they form a dark cloud. And still, Stratos is producing more water, with several streams seemingly appearing out of nowhere and flowing up towards the cloud that now covers the entirety of the ceiling.

Stratos slowly grins, her eyes still closed in focus. A second layer of orange magic appears around the first one as she aims her horn towards the centre of the slowly spinning cloud bed. With an ominous rumble, flashes of light begin to appear inside it. I grimace as I begin to realize that this probably wasn’t the best idea inside of a library inside of a tree, I flinch as a lightning bolt unexpectedly shoots from the cloud and impacts Stratos’s horn. Immediately, it begins to rain.

I start to protest about how she can’t seriously think making it rain inside a library is a good idea. But before the words leave my mouth, I notice I’m not getting wet, even though I’m standing under the pouring cloud. Upon closer inspection, the raindrops evaporate mere centimetres before they impact anything. I can’t even begin to imagine the magic required to uphold such a spell.

As the rain pours on, the cloud slowly thins out, and the ceiling becomes visible again. With a final flash of orange magic, the remainder of the cloud explodes and leaves a fine vapour in the air. The sun, now able to shine into the room again, produces an amazing spectrum of fine colours through the tiny drips floating in the air. Sporting a grin from ear to ear, Stratos bows before the draconic creature and his companion.

‘And tha’, fillies and gentlecolts, uhm… and dragons, is quite the mage.’ She declares.

To my surprise, the dragon looks puzzled more than anything. Raising a claw to rub his head, he mumbles. ‘Hmm…manipulating the humidity within telekinetic spheres would make sense, but what about…’

He turns towards Miss Pinkie, who was just finishing shaking her own head to recover from the amazement.

‘Mhm! My Pinkie sense just went haywire for a second there! I never felt anything like that before. What could it mean?’

Stratos and I exchange looks with raised eyebrows. The purple dragon clears his throat and addresses us again.

‘I’m sorry, yes. That was quite the display of magic. You should be fine in the forest with young Stratos by your side. Please forgive me, but I must ask you to stay around while I have a private conversation with Pinkie. Feel free to browse the library.’

‘Uhm… Sure, take your time.’ I uneasily respond. The dragon politely nods our way as he enters a different room in the library, a bouncing Miss Pinkie in his wake. After the door closes behind them, I turn to Stratos.

She merely shrugs. ‘Ah dunno. Some folks do freak out when they see me controlling weather. Ah remember a certain somepony almost having a heart attack.’

‘That doesn’t count! You jumped off the third floor! But I don’t think they were merely amazed by your weather magic.’ I turn my gaze towards the door the two left through. ‘I wonder what they are talking about…’

‘Ah dunno. But it ain’t any of our business. Now, ain’t ya gonna take Doctor Spike up on his offer? Ah know Ah will.’ She reminds me, trotting up to a shelf and taking a book from it.

I almost forgot where I was for a moment. I trot up to a shelf containing astronomy books, and float out a book I have seen once before. Equestrian Astronomy; A Study of the Stars and Their Relation to Celestial Zoology. It’s an… elaborate title, to be sure. More of a summary than a title, really... This is exactly one of those rare books that would be snatched from my store by vivid collectors before I can read it (I know this, because that literally happened to me only months before). It’s a fascinating book, a compilation of several studies on both the stars themselves, and the creatures that spawn from them.

I open the book to the first page and vaguely recognize it from the time I had it in my store for exactly two hours before it was sold. An elaborate drawing of the constellations ursa major and minor, next to an equally detailed drawing of the zodiacal creatures that corresponded with them. Dozens of tiny arrows went back and forth between the drawings, pointing out similarities and connections. Of course, I’m well versed in the phenomena of celestial zoology; astronomy and its related fields have been favored hobbies for Canterlot ponies for generations.

Most major constellations have a life cycle, if you will. They slowly fade in the sky, and once every twelve years or so, they brighten up again. At their brightest, they spawn their respective life forms. These celestial beings descend upon Equestria, resulting in the most beautiful of meteor showers. In my lifetime, there have only been two spawning of the stars. During the first one I was still a foal and thus I have no memory of it. The second one I do recall, and it was a sight unlike anything I had ever seen before.

The book before me has actually made an effort to map out every constellation’s life cycle, and a study of their associated beings. Zodiacal life forms being extremely rare as it is, I can’t even begin to imagine the effort it must have taken the author to write this. After reading the chapter about Gemini, a constellation whose spawn has yet to be seen by mortal eyes, I look up from the book.

As fascinating as reading about celestial zoology is, I shouldn’t get lost in a book at this point. After all, we are in a library owned by a dragon. A fact in itself arguably more interesting than any of these books. As the sun slowly crawls through the sky, I find its light suddenly reflected into my eyes. Shielding them, I spot a collection of framed pictures responsible for the redirection of sunlight on the wall opposite from me.

I look at Stratos, who sits upon a throne made of spell books and Spider Pony comics, rapidly going through all of them with her ever present copy of Equestria Through The Years firmly by her side. She’d probably tell me it’s none of my business, but I want to know more about our draconic host. Carefully, I get up and gently trot towards the wall before reconsidering and walking normally. This is Stratos we’re talking about here; I could probably throw myself out the window without her noticing.

In acknowledgement of exceptional contributions in the following fields;
Astronomy, Arcane Sciences, Draconology, Physics and Zoology.

The Royal Canterlot Research Facility hereby awards
Spike
With The Title Of Honourable Dominus Archmage

Through Blackest Night, May The Pursuit of Knowledge Always Be Your Shining Light

I softly whistle at the richly decorated paper. Spike’s name is written so elaborately it’s almost humorous. I can only imagine how the calligrapher must have felt when he was told to fill half the paper with just five letters. Before today, my idea of dragons was giant fire breathing lizards to which I would appear a tasty snack. Never in my life would I imagine one to actually be… well, sentient. Let alone a genius.

The rest of the wall mainly consists of framed photographs. One shows a collection of six young mares, with what I can only imagine to be a younger Spike amongst them. Two of the mares look familiar, striking me as much younger versions of Miss Pinkie and Rarity. Amongst the other ponies are two Pegasi and another earth pony and a single unicorn. Judging by how young they look in the photograph, and the way Miss Pinkie and Rarity look now, I would say this photo has to be at least several decades old.

Another photograph sparks my interest, being written upon. It shows the unicorn from the group photo, the one that isn’t Miss Rarity, although looking slightly older. Being a more recent photograph it isn’t as faded and I’m able to tell the unicorn has a brightly lavender coloured coat. Next to her stands a brown-coated earth pony stallion, both of which smiling at the camera. Over a corner of the picture, written in faint ink lettering, I’m able to make out the text ‘I’m so happy for you Spike! I knew you could do it! With love from Hoofington, your friend, T. S.’

The warmness of the picture rubs off on me, and smiling, I look at the rest of the pictures. Most of them are of the mares in the group photo, smiling happily at the camera. I notice that one frame doesn’t house a picture, but a newspaper article. Before I can read it however, the door to the next room opens, and Spike enters the room.

‘Sorry about that, thank you for your patience. I see you are enjoying your stay in the library.’ He says with a laugh upon seeing Stratos amongst a pile of books. Still smiling, Spike turns his attention towards me. I try my hardest not to look like I had been snooping around, which is hard to do standing next to a wall of highly personal photographs. Thankfully, Spike doesn’t become angry and eats me, which is still quite a real possibility in the back of my head. Instead, he merely joins me and looks at the photographs with a sombre look in his eyes. Attempting to escape the awkwardness of the situation, I step aside to give him room.

‘Hmm… These pictures. Sometimes I wonder why I keep them,’ He mumbles after a while. I’m not sure if that was aimed at me or anypony in particular.

‘They are such warm pictures though. I mean, everypony in them is smiling,’ I say in an attempt to snap the dragon out of his melancholy.

‘That they are, Waren,’ He says. ‘That they are. But there is a reason one put up pictures. To remember a time gone by.’

Seeing Miss Pinkie so vibrantly standing behind him, and having met Miss Rarity, I wonder what he means by that. Suddenly feeling sorry for the dragon, I trot back up to him and take another look at the pictures.

‘If you don’t mind me asking, who are they? The mares in the photographs, I mean.’

‘They,' Spike responds, his voice suddenly grand and prideful, ' are my family.’ He lifts a single claw to the picture with the cheerful writing on it. 'None were more special than her; my mentor, my friend, my mother, Twilight Sparkle.'

Miss Pinkie smiles when the name is mentioned. It sounds oddly familiar. I force my brain to stop worrying about silly little things such as the fact that Stratos was still reading comics, and focus on finding out what I know about the name Twilight Sparkle. Then I remember.

‘Wasn’t she… Princess Celestia’s personal student? The mare to uncover the Element of Magic after it had been lost for a thousand years?’

‘Indeed. Twilight was the one that found the long lost Element, though she couldn’t have done it without her friends. Twilight was like that, doing amazing things. And with pride I can say she was the one that raised me from when I was just a hatchling into the handsome devil you see before you now.’

‘She was’? With a sinking feeling in my gut, I have another look at the framed newspaper article.

ACCIDENT SHOCKS HOOFINGTON, CLAIMS LIFE OF-

‘I’m… I’m sorry.’ I try to comfort the dragon with a lump in my throat.

‘Don’t worry young one, it’s in the past. I put up these photographs so I may remember, but sometimes I remember too much, I suppose. It can be hard find the balance between respecting the past and lingering in it.’

Spike turns to look me in the eyes, which makes me somewhat uncomfortable. As if the situation wasn’t uncomfortable enough. Sometimes I envy Stratos’s ability to be completely oblivious to social situations.

‘She was Celestia’s personal student, and in turn, I was her assistant. For years, she studied the magic of friendship. Eventually, inevitably, she found the magic of love. She got married, moved out, and moved on with her life. I was left with a library and a gaping hole in my life. I suppose it’s only natural that I took after her and filled it with studying.’

Spike turns towards Stratos this time, still absorbed in her pile of books now shaped into a fort. Confused by the situation, I try to think. Why is he telling me all this? I exchange looks with Miss Pinkie. She merely stands and watches with a smile. Clearly Spike isn’t rambling or her look would have betrayed that. Spike is quick to confirm that.

‘I’m sorry, you must be wondering where I am going with all this. I suppose it helps that you know a little about my past. To provide context. Now, this next part is important, could you… uhm… return your friend to the world of the living?’

I have to think what he means by that for a moment, but quickly realise he was talking about Stratos. After a quick apology I hurry towards her and magically close the comic book engrossing her. She shoots me annoyed look before realising Spike and Miss Pinkie had returned to the room. So she decides to blush and look away. A chuckle escapes Spikes throat, before it is followed by words.

‘Welcome back, Stratos. Now, I’m going to cut to the chase, we are going to ask something from you. Pinkie, if you will.’

The mare eagerly jumps forward from her waiting position behind the dragon. It must have been hard on her to stand still, waiting for the moment to be called out by the dragon. She abruptly presents us with an outstretched hoof. Not just any outstretched hoof, mind you. A hoof carrying a beautiful green gem. Confused, I raise an eyebrow at Miss Pinkie.

What? This gem? This very shiny, and probably very valuable gem? That is not something you just give to two random ponies you just met. It’s certainly not something two random ponies should accept!

‘Don’t worry, Waren. It’s precious, yes. But this is very important, please take it.’ Spike almost nudges me with his voice.

I float the gem from Miss Pinkie’s hoof. Both uneasily and carefully. As my magic aura touches the gem, I can feel it spark. The spark jumps back into my horn, and suddenly everything feels clearer, brighter. Like a veil has been lifted from my mind. I gasp as the gem levitates in front of me. This isn’t just some fashion accessory.

‘An anchor for my balefire.’ He says without blinking. There is a lot of blinking on my part though.

‘Indeed. Balefire. Over the years I have studied many things, but the focus of it all has always been balefire.’

Not remembering a pyrotechnics on his doctorate certificate, I raise an eyebrow. The corners of Spike’s mouth turn up in a smile at my confusion. He grabs a book from a shelf and holds it up in front of him.

The dragon inhales deeply, and to my amazement, breathes a large and positively green flame over the book. With wide eyes I watch the flames quickly consuming the paper, and in mere seconds, nothing is left of the book as the flames disappear again, not even leaving behind ashes. Why would he do that? Why would he burn one of his own books? Not understanding, I watch as the dragon smiles again. Suddenly a green spark ignites in front of me. I yelp in surprise and jump back as more green flames appear out of nowhere, and promptly produce the very book Spike had burned only moments before. Bewildered, I catch the book in my telekinesis before it can fall on the floor. With the book softly rocking next to the gem in my magical grasp, I stare at the dragon, who was grinning once more.

‘There you have it, my little pony. That is balefire. Some call it dragon breath, others call it green flame. But however you choose to label it; it is what allows me to transport items over great distances.’

He smiles, seemingly thinking about bygone times. After a few moments, he coughs and continues.

‘As you might have guessed, that gem, a dragongem, is something I can focus on. Somewhere I can send my flames to, and whatever they carry.’

‘Very well observed. I can send my flames to places I can actually see or know without there being a magical anchor present. But as you will be on the move, you will need to carry one around.’

‘Huh?’ I manage to ask. Well, it’s hardly a question, but my head was slowly starting to piece together what this gift means. Just as it does so, Spike spells it out for me.

‘Stay in touch? With us?’ I repeat. ‘Why?’ I finally say something original. The dragon gives me a strange smile, and I can’t tell whether it’s supposed to be reassuring or the kind of weak smile that makes you worry.

‘If nothing else, consider it as we have presented it to you’, Spike begins, ‘A simple gift. For if Twilight taught me anything, it is this: While we must never forget those who have left us, we must never stop ourselves for connecting with others in the name of friendship.’

Unsure what to make of the strange situation, I look at Stratos. She shrugs and gives me a weak smile. Normally there is no way I would accept something like this… But a dragon with a doctorate in five different fields doesn’t strike me as the type to make hasty decisions.

‘Thank you, I-I’ll take good care of it.’ I say, carefully placing the precious gemstone in my saddlebag. Miss Pinkie smiles at me, and Spike puts his claws together before speaking up again.

‘Well then, as I understand, your friend is under the care of our good Rarity. And she may be old, but she is by no means slow. So I would think your friend is waiting for you right about now.’

‘Already? Ah guess we’ll go pick him up then. Ah really want t’ see what he looks like!’ Stratos eagerly declares.

‘Well, then this is a goodbye.’ The dragon says, ‘I’m afraid I’m in no position to go with you at this point. Pinkie, will you show our friends to Rarity’s? And you might want to inform her about the gift we bestowed upon them. Uhm… and tell her I said hi.’

Miss Pinkie laughs and bounces towards the door. ‘Don’t worry, Spikey, I won’t forget.’

As the pink pony opens the door behind us, I turn to say goodbye to the dragon. ‘Well, farewell mister Spike. It has been… interesting to say the least.’

‘Likewise, Waren. I hope we can meet again. You as well Stratos. Your magic is a special gift, and you would do well to nurture it.’

She takes half a step, before seemingly remembering something and turning around again. She leans her hoof against the doorframe and calls out into the library. ‘Bye Spike! Take care!’

A loud laugh escapes from the door opening. ‘Always a pleasure Pinkie!’ Spike’s voice loudly rumbles from inside the library. Miss Pinkie closes the door, and returns to us again, with a possibly even larger grin than before. For the second time that day, we find ourselves following the overly enthusiastic pink earth pony through the streets of Ponyville. This time Stratos trots right next to her, and they talk a little as we move through the colourful town. I think about our strange experience in the library.

As if the fact that the owner of the library was draconic isn’t enough, he doubles as a professor at the single most established and respected science institution in Equestria. Why would someone like that want to stay in touch with ponies like me and Stratos? And unless one of us somehow learns how to breathe green flames, I’m pretty sure that staying in touch is going to be one-sided. I let out a sigh.

Normally I’d probably think everything he said was a load of horse apples, I mean, it doesn’t make sense. But the certificate on his wall makes it hard for me to doubt the dragon’s reasoning. I decide to not let it bother me, and hope that it will become clear eventually like I was told.

After following the pink pony for a little while (and taking a wrong turn several times), a round building comes into view. It somewhat resembles the tower we saw earlier, though considerably smaller. What it lacked in size however, it made up for in sheer extravagance. Not a single thing about the building simply served a purpose; everything seems to be designed to reflect beauty. Recalling the unicorn that abducted Werk earlier today, I have no trouble imagining that building doubling as her residence. I’m proven correct as Miss Pinkie bounces straight for the heavily decorated dome building. Without much decorum, the pink mare bursts through the door.

I roll my eyes and prepare to trot after her, until I am nearly blasted away from the door by an unnaturally loud – and a quickly becoming all-too familiar – gasp. ‘Sweetie Belle! When did you get back from Manehattan? It’s so good to see you!’ she starts to ramble at a speed my ears can’t be bothered to keep up with. I simply let out a sigh and turn to Stratos and motion her to follow me in. Yet the mare merely stares at the door with utter disbelief.

Stratos shoots me an angry look. ‘Well, duh! She’s only the most famous singer in all o’ Equestria!’

That explains it then. Before it broke down I only used my gramophone to occasionally play some classical music… I decided against replacing it when I found it was nigh impossible to find a model that didn’t also incorporate a steam engine. It’s bad enough I was forced to purchase an alarm clock with a boiler because I need one.

‘Can we come in now?’ I ask after Stratos fails to move forward. She looks up with slight shock, as if she just woke up.

‘Oh! Ah can’t believe Ah’m ‘bout t’ meet the Sweetie Bell! Quick, how do Ah look?’

I roll my eyes. ‘You look fine, like always. Werk is in there too, remember?’

Without waiting for confirmation, I trot for the door opening. The mention of the grey Pegasus reminded me about my plan for revenge, and why we were here in the first place. I enter the building, not sure what to expect.

The main room is, much like the library, dim and hard to see in. However unlike the library, it looks like a cascade of light has been rotated to light the very centre of the room where a large divan sofa has inexplicably been placed. On said sofa, a mare dramatically lays with her head buried in a pile of red, plush pillows. Next to her stands a heavily groomed gentlepony, cooing her with gentle words as his wings softly flap, fanning the sobbing mare. He wears a stylish top hat and a silk cloak that both work extremely well with his grey coat.

The same Werk who once said he didn’t believe in personal hygiene, and likes to believe that the oil stains actually help his coat stay aerodynamic?

The pile of pillows erupts to reveal the head of a white unicorn, tear strains made all the more noticeable by the mascara lines trailing down her face. She strikes me as younger than Miss Rarity or Miss Pinkie, but still quite old. Her mane consists of various shades of purple tastefully curled around her head. She must look beautiful on days she hasn’t been bawling her eyes out.

‘He said… He said…’ the mare hiccups out between sobs, ‘He said he was happy for me, but Crystal Ballad has the best voice of all time!’ her voice cracks and she throws herself into the pile of pillows again. The Gentlepony– no, Werk poorly feigns a ‘pfffft’.

‘Ah! I’m glad to see you’ve made it,’ a voice to our right whispers out. ‘Pinkemena can ever so disorganised time to time, I was worried she may have lost you two somewhere. Now, what do you think of your friend? Doesn’t he look dashing?’ Miss Rarity reveals herself by stepping forward. She probably had been standing there all along, but the performance on the couch had taken my complete attention.

‘Uhm… Sure… But what...’ I pause to search for words, eventually deciding on the good old, ‘...Is this?’

Miss Rarity glances over at the scene. ‘Ah, do forgive my sister. She just returned from an award ceremony in Manehattan and there was somewhat of an… incident.’ She grimaces.

‘Why, yes. Though I’m afraid she’s being rather selfish with your friend’s attention. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not belittling what happened, but I daresay my sweet sister almost seems to attract such drama. Something she might have picked up from me, I’m afraid.’ The unicorn smiles.

So Stratos was right. Sweetie Belle is a famous singer. Not only that, but she’s related to a pony we already met. And there seemed to be a lot of drama going on under all of those lights as Werk continues to attempt to comfort the sobbing singer. I don’t think he even noticed we had arrived yet.

‘Oh, of course! Sweetie Belle won a most prestigious award last night. But during her speech that complete and utter oaf Kaneigh West stormed onto stage, took the microphone from her and announced to an entire crowd of high class ponies and her colleagues that he thought my sister didn’t deserve the award.’ She throws her head backward in a ‘hmph’. Looking at the presentation involving her sister and my friend once again as Sweetie Belle let out a fresh wail, Miss Rarity shakes her head and sighs.

‘Oh sweetest of sisters? Don’t you think it’s high time you calmed down?’ she says as she trots up to the couch, opening the blinds as she went before floating up the pillows. A freshly revealed Sweetie Belle looks up at her sister with a mix of sorrow and offense.

‘I know what he said, Sweetie. But you know just as well as I do that you did deserve that award. Which is why you received it in the first place, no? It doesn’t matter what one pompous individual thinks. What matters is that you deal with the situation with dignity becoming of the pony you are.’

Sweetie Belle looks around the room, apparently realising how it must look. She smiles weakly at her sister. ‘I guess I did overreact a little.’

Rarity laughs. ‘As good of an advertisement it is to have The Finest Voice of Equestria over on a regular basis, Carousel Boutique is just that, a Boutique. We want ponies to come here for dresses, not autographs.’ She smiles warmly at her sibling. ‘And I want Sweetie Belle my little sister to visit me. Not Sweetie Belle the famous singer.’

‘Group hug!’ Miss Pinkie unexpectedly jumps from across the room and giggles almost uncontrollably as she wraps her hooves around the two white Unicorns.

I take the opportunity to drag Werk away from the scene by his tail. He shoots me an annoyed look before recognising me. ‘Waren! Stratos! When did you get here?’

‘We’ve been here for a while now. Might I say you look fabulous.’ I add with a smirk. The Pegasus looks at himself and grimaces.

‘Oh. Right. Ha ha. Very funny. But you know what? I don’t even care, I got to meet the Sweetie Belle!’ his grimace makes room for an expression of foalish glee.

‘You wouldn’t understand Waren.’ He says with something far too close to snide for my liking coming from him. ‘All you listen to are those dusty old records of ponies that already died. Sweetie Belle’s voice was one of the few things that kept me sane in that factory.’

Great, now both my companions think I’m musically deficit. My plan for revenge was perfect, but now I don’t even get to enjoy it.

‘Can we not fight over this? Now that we are happily reunited again, what about we finally head towards Everfree Forest?’

The mention of the forest seems to melt all malice from my friend’s voice. ‘Of course! How many of the apples were you able to salvage?’

I ponder for a moment as I recall Werk being thrown to the ground in a train cabin and his saddlebags spilling the apples all over the floor. What my mind fails to do is remember the moment when I went back to retrieve them before the train left the station. I start to sweat and both Werk and Stratos facehoof at my increasingly uncomfortable expression.

Writing History

by Gaiascope

Chapter Four: The Pinkie Parable