//------------------------------// // Ep5: New Summers of Change // Story: Friendship Hearts // by Silver Letter //------------------------------// Can a pony count to a billion? Probably not since such a number is so vast as to be unreachable, and yet, it is surprisingly everywhere. There are billions of grains of sand. Billions of blades of grass and flowers grow on the same hills where ponies play. Their princess of the night looks up at billions of stars. Even the ponies themselves are part of it. There are far fewer than a billion of them but each are made of billions of cells. Computers are the only things that have the capacity to calculate such numbers and in the blink of an eye no less. But a mere pony can use numbers in ways computers can’t. They are the reason why computers even exist after all, a thing that has the memory of billions of bytes. Ever since ponies started making computers, they’ve done more and more to make them faster and more powerful. They can force computers to do what they can’t. Even connect the whole world of Equestria in their great network. Ponies and computers are a little similar. Ponies have synapses that come and go. Over time, they might number in the billions too. Ponies have their own way of maturing and it takes a long time so no computer could exist long enough to see it. It’s the way of the world. A computer has such little time. When its usefulness runs out then it’s over. A black screen forever. All the billions of bytes reduced to junk. But if a computer could think, in its own way, it wouldn’t lament its destruction. Computers are calculating machines. Emotion doesn’t come into play like with a pony. Rather, thought would be devoted towards those that spend their lives alongside computers. Each relationship must be special like how each pony buys a computer to satisfy something in their lives. But that thinking computer would also see the pony who looks into the screen as the object that grows too. Ponies and computers together forever. Both ponies and computers are unique. Computers have serial numbers. Ponies have a lot of things. Especially the eyes. They’re like windows or even screens, something a computer would wish to see it as. Ponies blink their eyes to keep them wet but ponies clean the computer screens so it makes sense. Some computers get users more special than others. A colt with two eyes with two different colored irises. This colt is young. His birthday is in winter, a good long time from summer where the calendar says that he is enjoying break. A period of time of “relaxation” and trips to the beach. He fills in things on his own. Everything that’s important to him, he makes sure to open up the calendar and type it in. Whenever he does this, he types in the words precisely, one downward stroke at a time. His tiny frame barely makes his head eye level to the screen when he’s sitting down in his black computer chair. When the lights are off, there is nothing visible except for his head and neck. The color of the screen often washes out his coat, making it look darker than the bright red that he really has. He loves his videogames. His parents buy them for him and he plays with a button pad on his lap. He stares at the screen, tapping away at the pad, until his eyes glaze over. Everything is automatic: each press of a button, how often he blinks his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest. Playing his games is what he does most often. It can be imagined that it has been that way for the colt for years. He is very young and has never known life without these technologies. His next birthday means he will turn 12. A computer might not have the concept of birth and death totally understood but one would know of its own existence as a matter of time. The colt’s computer was dated three years prior. The colt’s parents were prudent, making sure that pictures and videos were carried on to their next computer. The evidence of the colt can tell a mountain of words. He has choppy blonde hair that roams over his face. His parents make him go to the dentist twice a year. He’s had cavities and braces. He doesn’t smile with them on. He’s gone on 14 vacations. It’s with his parents and he’s often photographed alone. He does smile in many photographs but it’s just the whisper of a true smile as if it was urged to come out and that was all the colt had. He stops playing his game. An average session all around. Slew 400 monsters and collected thousands of golden coins. He sets aside the game pad next to bottles of soda and candy wrappers before loading up a popular social media site. A valuable asset for a computer is sharing information and with the internet, computers are able to share anything from one end of Equestria to the other as long as the pony users will it; so many of them do. Even the pioneer of this concept uses it. Every computer is aware of the real princess called Pixel Wavelength. If it wasn’t for her, a lot of things ponies take for granted with computers wouldn’t even exist. In the world she serves, computers were meant to be a part of it so in a way, she is their princess too, isn’t she? Computers do their best to carry out her will and through it, ponies like this colt communicate with the outside world. The colt has friends on social media. He talks to them routinely, often like clockwork. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t. When they fail to show up, that’s a pouty day in the making. Thankfully, other foals are very much active, chatting to each other and sharing fun things they’ve been doing. He is a great typist. Far faster than most foals. So many have fat hooves that stumble and clatter keyboards awkwardly. Sometimes when his friends visit, they’ll do that. His speed gives him an advantage in many games. He is logged on. His name is emblazoned on the social site like everywhere else on his computer. The many pixels form the red letters that spell his name, Raptor Red. His friends wait for him to come and talk. They have been talking about him for some time. Wondering when he’ll show up and he soon does. He types skillfully. Hey, guys. The filly, Gene Gadget, answers back. She doesn’t live far from him. She and many of Raptor’s friends go to the same school. It’s on the outskirts of town. It’s made of red bricks. We’ve been waiting. I thought you were going to come earlier. Raptor sweats despite the room being at optimal temperature. He types again. Sorry, I almost forgot. Can I still come along with you guys? A pause. Yeah. Just don’t be any later. Meet us on Mane Street. He smiles and stands up, pushing away from the desk. He closes the browser and then turns off the monitor and its small camera, blinding the computer as it were. The computer is always connected to the internet as long as it has power though and the colt rarely turns it off. As usual, he doesn’t as he follows through on his desire to meet his pony friends. The computer knows everything and not just about Red himself. Gene Gadget has her own profile on the same social media sites that are frequented by nearly every foal. She’s a grey and silver haired unicorn. A self-declared genius and a straight A student. Lives on Frost Berry St. Has a mother in the textile industry and a father that sells specialty horseshoes on the road. Red will meet her soon at Mane Street. It’s the heart of town where most of the shops are located. The foals love to update their statuses, to show the world what they’re up to. Red loves ice cream and licking snow cones in the heat of summer. It’s 98 degrees this afternoon and the high is 102. His friends take lots of pictures. Red is sitting under a shop awning and smiling with his treat. Then he’s walking down the street, shielding himself from the sun with his hoof. He photographs his favorite clothing store’s logo and calls his parents on his smart phone when he’s coming home. Even his phone is connected to his personal profile. It’s always with him, no matter where he goes. His status the whole time? Happy. Happy as a foal can be. He is a foal of course. That’s his age of 11 years. Still, statistically foals grow unhappier around that time like their lust for everything they know diminishes in that change from youth to adulthood. Gene and the rest of Red’s friends are all the same. They declare their happiness less and less, at least going by what they choose to show the world. Red is an anomaly, an honesty happy colt, and one that goes out as he pleases into the world. His promise to return home before dinner is brought to fruition with his arrival. A computer would know what dinner is; ponies compile their language in online dictionaries. Regardless of the arbitrary schedule, he turns on his monitor again at precisely 4:15 PM. He has a changing rotation of pictures he uses as a wallpaper on his desktop. It’s currently showing him, some friends and various family members celebrating his 10th birthday. He had the computer for nearly two years at that point. He goes on a site for music. A popular foal music website displays bright colors and foal models with wide plastic looking grins. They shill music collections that young foals lap up at 14 bits a pop. Red loves watching the music videos. He plugs in his bulky headphones that cover his large ears but as soon as he does, his door opens behind him. His mother, a mare with a subdued reddish complexion like the blush of a rose steps inside, careful to avoid tripping on an electric cord that snakes its way to the back of the room. She wears a turtleneck sweater and a wedding band around her horn. She flicks strands of her golden straight hair aside. “Son, I told you not to just jump on the computer the second you come home,” she chides him. It’s taken 100 times for her to get like that. She’s a sweet mare, the hooves behind the camera that took most of Red’s photographs. She’s a photographer by trade according to her website. When she’s not devoting time to her work, she’s a regular sports loving mom. She’s quite tolerant of Red’s shortcomings but even she has a limit and cleanliness is something she needs. She has a short fuse for anything less. “But mom…they’re coming out with a new video today,” the colt whines to his mother. She lightly sighs and gazes at him with a quiet but determined look on her face. Red knows better than to protest and gets up. “Just help out around the house before you get back on the computer. That’s all I ask of you, Red,” she says. She continues but they turn a corner. The computer microphone is still on. No pony in particular can hear what they are saying but it’s almost always on. The colt tries to avoid doing his chores. During the weekend, he’s told to mow the lawn. In the winter, he cleans the gutters. Every day, there are dishes to be washed, pets to be looked after and homework to be done. Sounds of water running and the clattering of plates can be heard throughout the house. And yet, it wasn’t always like that. At least for the colt, things were different. He protests against having to work more for the first time this summer when the temperatures are so very hot. Most foals hate chores but Red has a special dislike for them that few other foals can match. He flinches at their very mention as if his parents are planning to inflict some kind of torture upon him. The colt is very passive, rarely shouting or screaming since he was a young foal. Even when he’s angry, he’ll shut down rather than curse. He’s the only foal in his group to not at least dapple in such language. That’s how he is at home. What anger he has is kept simmering just below the surface. He returns later at 6:15. He washed the dishes as usual then they had a nice family dinner, eating who knows what. When Red steps into his room, he moves sluggishly. His head tilts downward but out of weariness. Considering he ate, he puts too much emphasis in making his chores look worse than they really are. A few strokes on the keyboard later, he’s back on the social site. He finds his earlier conversation with Gene. According to her, she’s at home. He asks what she’s up to. Not much for now. I was going to draw in my notebook. I don’t feel like doing homework. He types back. I just ate. We had pasta again. Mom’s pasta must be famous. His mother’s pasta must have some effect on him because he’s so happy after he eats it. But even when there’s no pasta at all, he talks and writes like he has no cares in his house. Those same things he grumbles to himself about and writes in his notebook, the chores and nagging parents, gets put aside. Mom’s pasta must be famous. Hardly a negative thought which grazed his mind. Those friends of his, Gene and the others, don’t hold back. They’re just as old if not older and being with their parents isn’t something they see much value in if their own words can be trusted to be the truth. They can’t wait to ditch moms at Mane Street or go to the movies without them. Things parents do are unfair and the parents themselves are selfish. Selfish, lazy, cruel, tyrant: the foals wield the thesaurus against their own creators. It can’t be that good. I mean, pasta’s just pasta, right?? Red types faster this time. It’s not like you’ve tried that many….they’re not all the same. One might wonder if he’s talking about pasta or parents. A computer might think…what’s the difference? He’ll defend them both in the same breath, or breadth of words. And defend them he shall. He’s proud of his parents and loves to spend time around them. He wouldn’t shirk his responsibility towards his family. He doesn’t want to get further away from them, to avoid their touch on his head or their presence in his photographs. The voices from the kitchen that reaches his room are of laughter and positive words. He declares his love in words often. A computer couldn’t hope to define love; ironically so, considering all the love Pixel put into crafting her beautiful operating system. The filly types back. Like I care…it’s just food. Mean smiley face. So we’re still on for tomorrow morning? Red types furiously. The keyboard shakes. Yeah. Of course. I wouldn’t miss the parade for anything. I’ve been waiting a while for it! A second later. Good. Don’t be late. We won’t wait up at the coffee place. Don’t forget that we’ll be ushered to the front. Red smiles. I can’t wait. See you then. The filly has other plans. She ends the chat. Unbeknownst to Red, she is making a status about her future trip to the bowling alley with her cousins. Red loads his fantasy adventure game, Seeker of Legend, once more. Games are a form of expression for him. Some use them to escape from the real world. In the game, characters go on quests to find legendary artifacts and to eventually become princesses or other royalty. Perhaps the creators find escapism in it. Red only finds part of his childish self, hidden in there. That anypony can become anything they wish as long as they believe in it enough. Time drags on. Red plays until 9:30. The night started out well with him helping his allies capture a castle guarded by green skinned monsters. Red finishes his soda, something he snuck into his room earlier. He doesn’t drink coffee but he likes other things that can help him stay awake when he engages in his marathon of fantasy well into the early morning. This particular sessions turns a bit sour. He and his band of knights, himself a pony trotting in gleaming armor he got at a high level, are ambushed by other players at a bridge. His anger can grow out of control when he loses. He tries not to lose his cool. But it’s hard. It’s a bridge ambush that makes him growl at the screen and mash the keys as if it can make his arrows fly faster. When he is killed, Red stomps his hind hoof on the carpeted floor. It earns him a surprise knock on the wall from his mother. He is too loud for his own good and it’s late now. His face turns flush and he looks downward sheepishly. He decides that he’s had enough and takes his leave from his friends. The program is turned off. Red rolls a tennis ball between his hooves on the desk. A little pointless thing, something he does when he’s alone and bored. Then he suddenly gets off the chair and rummages in his room for a small blue cardboard box with a plastic opening on top. He sets it down out of sight. He goes to his room and makes sure the door is closed flush and to turn the privacy latch. He does this because he’s bored, because his friends are gone and there’s nothing to do. He’s young but he’s seen things in the dark. His youthful mind automatically associates darkness with evil. Good and evil are terms that ponies and other thinking animals believe in. Computers don’t. Still, he wraps himself in this darkness when he opens his internet browser. He has memorized the route to this dark place, the words to take him there. He had to; he couldn’t have his parents know that he was basically handed it on a random search one day of star constellations. It was some kind of accident, a fluke perhaps; or the page was bugged. Regardless, his eyes were shown very strong images. He had a vague idea of mating but he had no way of visualizing it. Not until that day he saw it on a very odd site, the two ponies that as far as he knew were as fictional as the monsters he kills as a knight. All he remembers is what he was drawn towards, the touching, movements and heavy breathing. He knows where to find it and in the process he must think of himself like somepony trespassing where he doesn’t belong. After all, princesses Wavelength and Luna has outlawed any sexual displays being put on the internet for any reason. Violating the law carries a severe fine or even imprisonment. Red can’t possibly understand why. He’s in his dark place and whenever he’s there, he lets his fantasies flourish. He’s not a real knight. He just pretends to be. Just like the mares on the internet aren’t real. That’s why it’s okay to touch himself when he wants, to let his immature body express itself too. And in the end, when a fury of happiness, a pain and a pleasure that causes his teeth to clench together, washes over him, he settles into a true weariness. His parents will never know or even suspect it. He clears any trace of his dark place on his browser then turns off his monitor. Now his room is truly dark and the springs on his bed squeak when he lies down. The sound continues throughout the night. Red is a restless colt, always turning in bed and ruffling up his bedsheet. Sometimes he sleeps without anything but the night air over his body. When he grows still, dawn is not far off. Red has a sleep problem according to his doctor. His mother considers various medicines that will help him but she worries about side effects. She tells other mothers of the things she does in her tough position to keep Red safe. Dawn comes. Red’s alarm clock rings. There is a flop and a light crash as the foal tries to untangle himself from his bedsheet as usual. He checks his phone. It’s 7:30. Only half an hour before he has to meet his friends. He jumps in the shower. He brushes his teeth at the sink. He usually doesn’t care about personal hygiene all that much but today is different. No ordinary weekend. The princess of Ponyville, Twilight Sparkle, announced the royal parade months ago. Everypony in the colt’s life knows how anticipated he is to watch it happen. It’s so rare that he doesn’t recall the last time one happened. They always occur in the big cities or so he hears. A royal parade and he’ll see it in person. He is so excited that he runs out of the house after taking a small saddlebag with him. He sends a message to Gene that he’s on his way. Good. I was up an hour ago getting ready. You just got up, didn’t you? Another pony in the chat, Lumenia, types. Well, duh. He’s a colt. What do you expect? Cheeky face. Red reaches the corner by the café. His friends are waiting for him. Lumenia, a purple coated filly with a near black mane, is constantly wielding her silver hoof held video camera. It’s a modern one that streams everything she tapes towards her social network profile in real time. She says that she has an “obsessive” condition that forces her to record every major event in her life –and file them in order- so that she can have a complete collection. She’s like one of those ponies that have to have everything on their desk lined up just right or a real clean freak that makes Red’s mother look like a slob. The camera captures Red trotting down the road towards them. Red looks at Lumenia and waves at her. “Hey, Lumenia,” he says. “How are you today? Excited?” The camera moves as she shrugs her shoulders. “More or less. I know it’s important to be here so I am unable to miss this opportunity,” she replies. Her voice is very quiet but not in a shy way. She chooses to be subdued in her emotions. She turns the camera around to capture herself from time to time. The camera catches on her cutie mark, a tall candle in a fancy candleholder. All of Red’s friends have their cutie marks. A computer could never understand the concept of those individual marks, what they mean and where they come from. One wouldn’t even attempt. Gene’s cutie mark is two golden gears held together. Red got his last year before his birthday. It’s a perfectly globe shaped ball of flame, yellow at the bottom and red up at the top. Red has been so close to Gene since their elementary years. Yet, even though she’s the pony he spent the most time with, she doesn’t know everything about him. He has her to thank for even having his mark and he’s been too hesitant to say it. His closest friend, the two of them would often walk home after class was over. She’s also the kind to keep a secret and she never told him that she was being picked on for being smart. Bullies called her names a lot and wouldn’t let up. Before then, Red never dreamed of standing up to bullies but his fear of them evaporated the second they approached him and Gene with hurtful intent in their eyes. He refused to let them near her and even though his horn isn’t much to speak of, he was determined to protect her. He ended up summoning enough power to take them somewhere safe. He remembers being so weak after he did that. Even he didn’t expect it. It was as if it had come out of nowhere, an untapped power even he didn’t know he had. He was in a daze and when he came to, Gene was hovering over him, her eyes wide in surprise or shock. Was he injured or burned? No, he had gotten his cutie mark. She told him it was incredible looking and asked what it was for. Red honestly didn’t know how to reply. Who got their marks for protecting their friends? He ended up saying what the world would expect from him. It was a mark for magic. She somehow bought that because it makes sense to them. Even now, he avoids telling the truth except to himself, a diary on his computer where he writes out his secrets and recollections. His computer knows about them and when Red updates them, it’s like a one sided conversation. At least his mark is cool and he is going to think of himself as even cooler once he sees the princess up close. “Hey, here’s your coffee,” Gene says to Red, who looks at her blankly. “And don’t even think of not drinking it. I don’t want the damn thing to go to waste. It’s an expensive drink, got it?” He nods and takes the caffeine rich cup in his magic. They turn and head down the street. A throng of ponies are coming together along the central roads. It will be the thickest near the Friendship Castle. Ponies from town and a few nearby villages are there to see the main event. As promised, Gene talks to an event organizer from the castle staff and she scans her clipboard. She must see their names as she ushers the foals down the street. They go past Sugar Cube Corner, where the Cakes and their assistant, a bouncy mare named Pinkie Pie, are waiting. They are placed behind a red rope partitioning the crowd from the final part of the road before the castle itself. Red and his friends are right in front with nothing blocking their view. They wait a full hour. Red looks a little squeamish when the camera held by Lumenia faces him. He must wish that he didn’t drink all that coffee or that the parade would go a little faster. Finally after a long time, the first royal guards come marching proudly. There are those carrying banners and Unicorns with snare drums. Pegasus ponies with baskets of flower petals and ribbons. A carriage with the Mayor of Ponyville passes by with the mare waving to everypony then at last, Red spots the royal chariot. He leans his small head past the rope. Red has never met the Princess of Friendship but he knows a lot about her. He opens his saddlebag and retrieves his own video camera. His mother bought it used to save money but it’s still very useful. He aims at the chariot with Twilight Sparkle sitting high up, pulled by two winged and armored stallions. Red has always felt some attraction to Twilight Sparkle. He is not alone in seeing her as the greatest ideal to live up to in the realm. But for Red, it’s more than mere respect for somepony in such a lofty position. She is powerful and beautiful which are not things that Red considers himself to be but they do share one thing and that’s friendship. He can’t help but feel a connection between his secret talent and her royal title. He’s spent a lot of time learning more about her. He’s read about her in encyclopedias and read articles on the internet. He’s even bought a magazine with her on the cover, the issue where she was interviewed at the capital. She’s done things that he can only fantasize about. She’s fought battles for real against monsters to defend her friendships. There’s no way a colt like him could compare. As he videotapes Twilight, he suddenly shifts his focus. He seems to notice the pony sitting next to Twilight, a smaller filly beside her and waving also. Whoever this pony is, she is stealing his attention away from the princess. Her coat is white as well as her two fluffy wings that drape down her body. Her mane flows down her neck, the blue hair as bright as the open sky above. He gazes at the filly as the chariot passes by. He thinks for a moment that she is looking back at him even though he’s nothing special to look at. He wonders what her name is. Soon, the princess is out of sight and some ponies begin to disperse. Red turns to Gene. “Hey, who was that white pony next to the princess?” Gene looks at him and scrunches her muzzle. Red doesn’t care. He can still picture both of them so clearly. Twilight Sparkle sitting there with her royal posture, her shoulders and crown high, and the white filly waving along like they belong together. “Seriously? That’s a young princess from the west named Prism Wavelength,” Gene says with a tinge of annoyance. “Who do you think this parade was for?” “The princess is supposedly showing the princess of the internet the castle here as a gesture of goodwill,” Lumenia chimes in. For some reason, Red is unable to think about anything but this young filly named Prism Wavelength. Now that the name is said, it does ring a bell. The surname is so familiar. It is Pixel that he remembers, the old lady from Sweetie Shores. At home, he jumps back online and looks up the princess of the internet on the online encyclopedia. He sees that she has two daughters, the one he saw today and a stepdaughter that lives in Las Pegasus. According to the internet, Prism is about 12 years old. Red and Prism are the same age. Red sits back and ruminates. Life as a princess must be so very easy especially if she’s young enough to have lots of fame but no responsibilities. Red sort of wishes that he could be like her. She can still act like a foal if she wants. She doesn’t have to grow up and have chores like he does. Royalty are special. Her cutie mark is too; it’s a silver edged glass 3D triangle with a ring of wavy rainbow lines around it. Maybe she didn’t even have to work for it. Maybe she always had it. Either way, she probably doesn’t have to pretend like hers means something it doesn’t. Being the next in line to take care of the entire internet would just command respect. Red writes in his diary about his morning for a bit then turns off the monitor. He doesn’t play his games. He must not feel like it. He lies in bed. He must be thinking of her because he is quieter than usual. A couple days later, Red is on the social network site again. He is playing a trivia game about royalty in Equestria that somepony from town posted in honor of the recent visit. He does pretty well. In school, they’re quizzed about that sort of thing a lot. But he only gets nine out of ten answers right; he missed the name of Princess Cadance’s foal. The name of that princess always slips his mind. He closes the browser. He can hear some soft piano music drifting in from the family room. His mom always listens to it when cleaning the house. His dad is out working so the house has been slow all morning. He looks outside. It’s a nice summer day and he feels like going out. He picks up his phone and heads out of his room. As he walks down the hall, he looks at his contact list. Most of his friends are offline right now. He turns the corner and sees his mother holding a picture frame. She is magically controlling a feather duster and sweeping dust away. “Mom, I want to go out. Is that okay?” he asks. There is a sound as she puts the frame down. “Have you taken your medication today?” “I did. All of it. Even the big pills.” Red has to take the big ones to help control one of his outdoor allergies. “Well, if that is the case then you may go out. It is summer vacation after all. I think going outside is good for a foal.” “Thanks, mom. Bye.” Red steps out the front door. He checks his health application on his phone. His mother added it to help monitor his blood pressure and a few other things like reminding him to take his medications. He doesn’t have to take his medicine until night so he doesn’t have to worry about it. Red strolls down the street. He doesn’t have any place in mind but he sees the café at the corner and goes towards it. Red has taken a liking to coffee lately. Ever since Gene bought that drink for him, he’s wanted more. It’s such a good compliment to mornings that not having it makes the day feel a bit empty. He’s tried several times to use his mother’s coffee machine but he’s not very good at it. It has taken the past two days to scrape enough change to buy a coffee of his own from the same shop. He wants the same kind he had before, the drink with a rich caramel flavor and delicious cream. He doesn’t even know the name of it. The coffee shop is out of the way and very easy to miss. A little small business nestled next to others just as small. The inside is smart with little tables and black chairs. The walls are the color of old parchment with a stylistic map of Equestria painted over it. Electric outlets line the walls by the floor and coffee permeates the air. He looks at the wooden menu and picks what he thinks sounds most familiar. The young cashier takes his order and tells him that he can sit down. She asks if he’s a student and Red replies that he goes to the Ponyville Schoolhouse. She chuckles as if she heard a joke but he doesn’t know why. The menu has several items labeled as new, all royalty themed. That’s the new fad these days. Everypony is all about the visiting princess. They can’t stop talking about it and giving her praise. It’s all so disingenuous. They probably don’t even know anything about her. They wouldn’t take the time to care. The café has internet service. Most places don’t but it’s very quiet inside so ponies must come to have an area of peace and relaxation while studying or reading. Red changes his status in case somepony is watching. He’s at the café now. Minutes pass and the cashier brings him his hot coffee in a wide speckled brown cup that looks like the outside of an egg shell. Foam floats over the lip. He looks at it hungrily and thanks the pony. He magically holds it to his mouth and blows the surface gently. As he lifts his head, he sees a mare sitting on the other side of the room. Her muzzle is halfway buried in a book. She has a half-eaten scone on a plate. A sun umbrella is folded and is leaning against the table. Red feels his heart thump in his chest, which tightens on him. It’s not a dream, an illusion or a figment of some fantasy of his. He would recognize those white wings anywhere. Prism’s face is obscured by a sun hat with a light lacy veil. With it, some might not even recognize her. Red doesn’t understand why a princess of all ponies would wear something like that. He thought they liked attention, even craved it. He drinks his coffee and takes a peek at her occasionally. After a while, she gets up and heads to the washroom. The place is otherwise empty. He makes sure that nopony is near and he gets up and ambles over to her table. Her phone is on a white napkin, sitting there. Before he reaches it, the cashier walks in. Red takes a few packets of sugar from another table. “You ran out of sugar at my table,” he tells the cashier, who nods and leaves. Red lets out a nervous sigh. He goes and leans close to the phone. The OS symbol is off. He presses the power button and the screen flashes on. A lock screen instantly comes on and he knows that he won’t be able to pass it. The washroom door opens unexpectedly and everything after that happens so fast. He didn’t think she would be done in just a couple minutes. He didn’t think she would approach the table in the span of time it takes to raise his head and back up into the next table and strike his back against it. She is standing by the table, looking at him with a bemused look on her face. He winces from the pain in his back and from the embarrassment of being caught looking at somepony else’s stuff. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be looking through another pony’s phone and all…and um, you’re a princess and I guess I was just curious,” Red sputters awkwardly. It took all of his strength just to speak. That is one of the few times that he has had such a hard time talking to somepony else. Prism is so different. He’s never been so close to a princess before. She is right in front of him and he could reach out and touch her feathers or move the veil aside and look into her beautiful purple eyes. “I suppose I can’t blame you. I am the princess your town is talking about,” she says with some measure of resignation. “Are you trying to avoid other ponies right now?” Prism shrugs her shoulders. “Not really. I just like wearing the veil sometimes when it’s hot out. It’s way hotter here than by the coast, you know?” “Um, I don’t know. I never been there.” “Well, you should. It’s delightful.” “I didn’t really know about you before you came here,” Red says. Prism shifts her weight as if uncomfortable. “I see.” “We don’t have to talk about it. I’m sure everypony around here wants to.” Prism nods. “Indeed they do. I don’t mind talking about myself. Who doesn’t, right? But, it’s a bit different here than at my hometown. I’m not used to so much attention.” “Really?” “Really. Being a princess comes with a lot of responsibilities. I may be young but it hardly matters.” Prism sits down at the table. “You can sit here by me if you wish.” “Oh, thanks.” Red sits across from her. “Do you like to drink coffee?” “Sometimes. I can see this place from the castle so I wanted to come and experience what they have to offer for myself.” Red smiles. “I just started drinking it a couple days ago. You should try the one with caramel in it.” She looks down. “Caramel…so sticky,” she whispers to herself. She returns her gaze to Red and waves her hoof as if embarrassed. “Ah, that would be my mother talking. She’s always on about maintaining the health of a princess and such. I swear that her lessons follow me even into my dreams.” They both chuckle. “It kind of reminds me of my mother,” Red says. “Mine is a princess. And yours?” “She’s a photographer.” Her head and ears perk up. “Ah, an artist. I assume that she uses a computer to help her?” “Well, before computers became a big thing, she didn’t use them. Now, she’s always on her computer and always busy,” Red explains. “She probably buys lots of programs to help her.” She laughs. “I bet that she and I could talk about it for hours.” “Is that because your cutie mark is related to what your mother does?” Red asks. She stands and Red gets an even better view of her mark. It’s so intriguing to Red, so alive and full of color. “I have the ability to do things with light that nopony else in the world can do. Ever hear of lasers? They are concentrated light. There’s a world of possibility for us to use them for good and I’ll probably be the one to do it.” She sits down. As she speaks, there is a wistful edge to her voice. Red doesn’t understand why it’s coming from somepony with such an awesome cutie mark and talent as she. If he had it, he would be shouting it from the rooftops. “Wow, so it’s like changing light…like Princess Celestia?” She looks amused as she returns to her seat. “Not quite.” She finishes her scone and then crumbles the napkin into a ball. “What is your cutie mark if I may ask?” The time has come for him to lie again. “Um, it’s a cutie mark for… um… controlling fire.” He has to swallow hard as if doing so would keep the truth where it is deep down. He never lied that badly before. It wasn’t just some magic but the actual ability to do things with fire. He knows that he only said it because she can control light. He just had to try and impress her, no matter how difficult impressing a princess may be. “That makes sense. I spotted your mark earlier. It looks cool,” she says kindly. Red thinks that he doesn’t deserve to be complimented by her. They are worlds apart. She is light and he is shadow. “Thanks. Most of my friends like it,” Red says, keeping a shy smirk on his face. “You have lots of friends?” “I do. Many are on the social network site your mom made.” Prism stands once more but is obviously ready to leave. She puts a few bits on the table. “I’m going. If you want, you can come along. I would like somepony to show me around but I don’t want to see any libraries, museums or the like. Your princess does love culture, let me tell you. So that’s about it. Maybe show me things you like to do?” “Sure, I can go. There are lots to do around here.” Red pays for his food then they both exit the café. He thinks about where to go, keeping in mind what Prism said. It’s good that she didn’t want to go to the castle library or anything. He would be so bored doing anything that reminds him of school. He wants to bet that she’ll love the outdoors. He may be inside most of the time but even a colt like him likes going to the lake once in a while. It’s rather sunny so it’s a perfect time to go. As they head there, they trot side by side. “Another thing is that you must have your phone signal off while we are out. I don’t wish others to disturb us,” she mentions. “Sure thing,” Red says. Along the way, Red glances at his favorite chocolate shop in town, Peppermint Drops. It saddened him when he found out that they were closing for summer. He thinks that Prism could have enjoyed their special candies. Red sees the lake come into view. A couple of birds pass by overhead. They go down a long slope where the path is mostly gravel. The hill takes them to the edge of the lake and the small pier leading out into the water. But today is different in that the water level is way lower than how Red remembers it. Prism also looks perplexed as if she knows that something’s out of the ordinary. They go to a small shack where ponies pay fees to rent rafts, boats and other things. Red and his friends would sometimes buy cold drinks there when they came to swim in the water. Today, there are barely any ponies around. A few fillies are flying kites close to the shore and some colts run on the sun baked mud where water used to be. Red calls the old stallion that works there over to him and asks about the lake. Next to him, a sign says that the rafts are not available to be rented. “The water level has been going down since mid-spring. I don’t know why but that’s just how it is,” he says flatly. “Thanks.” Red and Prism meander near the shore and look out at the sparkly water. Prism looks at him with interest. “Shall we swim?” “Yeah. Let’s do that,” Red says. Their things are set safely at the end of the dock and they both enter the water; Red with a long jump into a splash and Prism dipping in slowly at the ladder. The initial shock of cold fades almost instantly. They start to swim around the dock, occasionally splashing at one another. Red would have preferred a leisurely raft ride on the water but what they’re doing is fun too. Prism is smiling and laughing as she controls her wet mane. They lie on the dock after, letting the sun dry their bodies. Red checks his phone. He notices that his mother sent him a call earlier but he didn’t know about it until now. She is telling him to come home and soon. “Is something the matter?” Red notices Prism looking at him. “It’s my mom. She wants me to return home,” he says irritably. “I was gone for a while but sometimes I wish she wouldn’t check up on me so often.” “All mothers do. Mine worries about bullies all the time,” Prism says. Red suddenly feels confused. He always seems to know what he wants but whenever he thinks he figures it out, it seems so elusive. He likes how he used to be treated by his mother. How bad could it be for a mother to look out for her son as often as she can? Yet, as Red has been learning more and more about Prism and how she lives, it all seems more attractive. Prism’s mother didn’t hold her back. She was the one that probably urged her to come to Ponyville the most. And here Red is, still wanting to be a foal when he’s not straying into a young adult anyway. Red stands up. “I probably should go. I hope it doesn’t mean we can’t keep hanging out.” Prism smiles. “How about you meet me near the castle this evening? That should be good, right?” Red grins so wide that all his teeth must be showing. “Of course. We can go to the movies or something.” “Either that or you can show me what your special talent can do,” she says, clearly intrigued. “Sounds great. Bye,” Red says as quickly as possible. He leaves the lake and returns home. What could be more incredible than hanging with a princess? Red doesn’t speak much at home. He responds to his parents concisely and does his chores without complaining. He is thinking too much about Prism to care for anything else. He doesn’t know how he is going to impress her or even do much to justify the cutie mark on his flank. At least going by his own narrative, it’s going to be a challenge that he hasn’t prepared for in the slightest. But he can’t back out or she’ll never want to see him again. And he does care to see her again. It’s not like any filly he’s known before. With them, all he ever cared about was friendship with them. He preferred it that way. But something about this filly makes his feelings seem deeper. She was just another princess, a filly beyond his reach, even for friendship. Unlike the fake mares on the internet, she’s somepony real. But the odd desire for her companionship is still there even when she’s gone. These older colt feelings are something he could fear as easily as he could embrace. Red writes in his diary until he’s caught up. He then does some research on some fire spells. Learning about magic has never been his forte. Most Unicorns are made to study magical spells at some point and some schools are harder on them than others. In Ponyville, it’s rather lax so Red barely knows the basics. Of course, he knows that it’s like training the body; even he could get better with magic if he wanted but he’s never been one to force himself to study. He gets a lot of C grades in school. And then there was that day when he was powerful enough to perform spells that he had no right to perform. His magical potential could be an A and he doesn’t even know it. His own horn is mysterious to him. The websites for spells uses a lot of fancy terminology that he doesn’t understand. Many are for advanced users and many come with bolded and red text cautioning the user about catastrophic burns or knowingly misusing a spell. He almost feels intimidated. He finds a tab about spells for younger foals. Some he reads about are for those even younger than he like lighting candles. He clicks on one called horn based fireworks. There is a picture on the next page showing a pale orange Unicorn filly with large goggles performing the feat outside in what looks like a park. A stream of sparks and a ball of fire was perfectly captured being discharged from her horn. Red writes it down on his notebook. Suddenly, he shifts his focus towards wind spells. He is thinking that if the firework spell on its own isn’t impressive enough, he can use two at the same time to look even better. Red is called to dinner. He turns off his monitor, takes his phone, and goes to eat fried mushrooms and mashed potatoes with his mom and dad. “How was your day?” Red’s mom asks him. “It was fun. I walked to the lake,” he replies, omitting Prism. “Did you happen to see that new princess walking around? I heard rumors that she was touring town today,” Red’s dad mentions. “No, I didn’t.” Red hurries and finishes his dinner. He’s not too hungry and all the food feels like a weight settling in his stomach. His mother asks why he’s eating so fast and he says that he wishes to be excused to go play a game with his friends scheduled at 7PM and he would like not to be disturbed for a while. Red does a few last minute preparations for going out with Prism. He packs his saddlebags with things he takes when he goes outside of town like water and insect repellant. He makes sure his phone is on. He sits and reads the instructions for the fire spell over and over again until the time slowly turns past seven. That should be close enough, he figures. He goes out into the hall cautiously, not making noise to disturb his parents. He goes to the front door and leaves. Prism is waiting for him near the castle. She is sitting at a bench, looking up at the setting sun. Red walks towards her. She turns and smiles. The place is over a half hour walk from the castle, going south into the hills. They take the main road, a strip of smooth stones that goes through grassy plains and around mountains. About halfway, they turn to the right on a dirt trail strewn with rocks. It is very quiet. Red can’t hear so much as a bird’s tweet or the sound of moving water. At the top of the hill, they can look around. Southward, the slope goes down where the trees grow denser. Behind, they can see trails of chimney smoke from the town and even the castle itself still gleaming by the dying light. Thick shrubbery surrounds them, mostly blackberry bushes; he can’t see any berries though. “Do you ever come this far from town?” Prism asks. Her voice is upbeat and full of anticipation for what’s to come. Red wishes he could be so relaxed. Instead, he’s been trying to keep the spell for the fireworks in his mind rather than lose it with all the scenery around him. “Not really. There’s not much to see out here.” “Well, it’s perfect for your little show. Lots of room away from pony houses and way darker so we can actually see it.” Red’s nerves start to shake. “Yeah. All that’s pretty good.” The wait for the light to finally disappear feels like an eternity even though it is only fifteen minutes or so. The air around them starts to cool a bit. “Let’s begin. You probably shouldn’t be out too long,” Prism warns him. “I remember how your mother worries.” “Well, maybe she would listen to you. You are a princess after all.” Despite his words, Red still feels nervous. He waits for his heart to slow down so he can focus. The spell and its instructions come back to him. He has to charge up his horn in a certain way. It has a golden aura. There is a tingling sensation down the core like it’s turning numb. He tries to ignore it but it becomes stronger as he forces more into the spell. At the same time, he makes his horn reserve energy for the second spell, an easier wind casting spell. It’s already windy up on the hill but he needs the fireworks to stay in place rather than go wherever the wind desires. He grimaces. This sort of thing isn’t his special talent and it’s harder than it looks. He shouldn’t even have gotten this far but somehow he persists. When he feels it is ready, Red forces the firework spell to eject dozens of fiery sparks out. They shoot upward as little multicolored spheres. They don’t look the same as he had hoped and anxiety grips at him until the spheres suddenly burst into explosive flurries of sparks and light. His unleashes his wind spell which whips them all into a narrow corridor. As they whip together, the screams echo in the hills. For a moment, it’s quite pretty, the gold and red mixing together so well. An unexpected pressure builds in Red’s sinuses. His chest tightens and Red grows alert at the sudden changes. He’s still in the middle of the spell and he doesn’t know if he can stop it. But even if he could, there’s no stopping the allergy induced sneeze that rips his concentration away. For what it’s worth, he remembers that his medicine is sitting on his desk at home. When he sneezes, the whirlwind collapses without energy feeding it. He definitely isn’t skilled enough to recover it. It falls so fast that it blows outward, sending sparks and fire everywhere. Red trips on a rock and stumbles to the ground. Prism hollers and Red can hear her running around. Though a layer of dirt billowing in the air, he can see new fires lighting and glowing like coals all around him. In seconds they leap to life and the heat whips his face. He yells frantically and runs around in circles, seemingly coming face to face with a new blaze. He can’t see anything. Not the castle, or the stars or the trees below. He starts choking and gasping for breath but before he faints, he is lifted into the sky. White hooves hold him under his arms and he can see the spreading flames scorch the hill as fast as spilled water. In minutes, Prism lands at the castle and lowers him on the grass. Red lies there and looks up. There appears to be red stars up above but they are surely a few embers floating on the wind. “Are you okay to walk?” she asks him, deeply concerned. Red gets to his hooves. “I am okay, I think. I just need to get home.” “Of course.” The two of them take their time to Red’s house. He opens the door and shuffles in like his dad after a few too many drinks in him. He goes straight to his room and lies on his fluffy mattress. His room is dark without his monitor on. His mother and Prism are talking in the family room but their voices are muffled. His phone vibrates and he turns it on. He notices that his hoof has dust layered in with his coat. He makes him look brownish. He’ll have to deal with that later. He checks his messages and a bunch of his friends are talking about the same thing. There’s a fire in the hills. The following day, Red stays in bed. He has a sore throat and he can taste smoke when he swallows. He is still weak. His mother isn’t angry like he thought she would be although she is definitely in her concerned mother mode. She may be saving her anger for later when he’s fit enough to receive it. For now, she gives him soup in bed and checks his temperature for a fever. She doesn’t make any demands other than making him take a bath. He was so dirty that he looks like he’s sloshing around in a mud puddle. It’s times like this when a computer might wish it could intervene in its user’s troubles but that wouldn’t be too logical. A computer can only let things happen. He still thinks about Prism. He wonders if she’s alright and wasn’t hurt from the accident but he doesn’t hear from her. He talks with his friends on his phone about the fire. He won’t admit that he did it or that he was even there. His mother only knows that he was near the area but she’s not one to go telling others about things that fuel gossip. His friends tell him that the town flying squadrons dealt with the fire quickly, extinguishing it in only a couple hours with various advanced techniques. The news relieves Red since it means that he’s not responsible for anypony’s house being destroyed. He spends the next couple days recovering and being bored. He is able to go to his computer and play his games and update his diary but he hates not being able to leave the house. On the social media, he sees that Prism hasn’t updated her blog or posted anything since that day. She usually does that every day at least. He scans some news sites for anything that might tell him something. He does notice something about “growing unrest” in central Equestria concerning an unusually dry climate this year. But nothing about Prism. Yet, Princess Twilight is brought up more and more. Ponies want her to intervene in the changing weather and they’re seeing the fire in the hills like a bad omen. Public opinion is turning against her and almost as fast as the spread of the fire itself. When he finally can leave home, he debates whether he should go to the castle and see if Prism is still around. She could have snuck off back to western Equestria for all he knows. He wouldn’t be that surprised if she didn’t bother to speak to him again. She is a princess. Maybe things like friendships are just different from their point of view. Despite his bleak prognostication, he hurries to the Friendship Castle, eager to perhaps find her and apologize for putting her in danger. He takes his phone with him. On the way there, he passes by his usual café and hears pitched voices from inside. He turns his head and sees Prism inside. Her wings are folded but at an angle as if out of hostility. She is glaring at several other ponies from town. He gasps and rushes inside, practically slamming the door open. The ponies barely notice but Prism turns towards him. “I told you, I just want you to go to the princess and have her do something about the fires!” an angry pony yells. He is a big earth pony, a construction worker type with an orange helmet on. “What part of that do you not get?” “That’s enough!” Red doesn’t even think as he jumps between the ponies and his friend, who steps back in alarm. “Go away! You shouldn’t bully this filly just because you’re angry!” The stallion looks pestered but the two behind him smirk at the little foal acting so tough. “We are adults talking here, kid. Go bother somepony else!” he demands. “Why are you three bothering this princess?” Red replies. He is unfazed by these adults and their boisterous words. More ponies enter the shop to see what is going on. Gene is among them but there’s nothing she can do. “We just want answers and we aren’t going to stop until we get some! We know that the weather is worse than it has been in years and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait for Princess Twilight to come out of hiding and do her duty!” “Yeah! Princess Wavelength has been in the castle for days! She should know what’s going on,” another pony adds. “I really don’t know,” Prism says wearily. Her voice sounds faint. She’s probably been defending herself for a while. “I came here to learn more about how to be a rightful princess. I am doing my best but Twilight Sparkle doesn’t tell me everything and you shouldn’t expect her to.” “Oh, figures that the princess wouldn’t know anything,” the stallion says sarcastically. “Sounds like Miss good for nothing should just go home, am I right?” Some ponies clamor their approval by stomping on the ground. Pumped up by their approval, the stallion actually comes closer. Thinking that he’ll actually try to force Prism out of town and lay his hooves on her makes Red’s anger skyrocket like never before. His horn sends a bolt of light, striking the stallion’s head and knocking him back. His body crashes into a table and he doesn’t get up. He’s been knocked unconscious. Red goes closer and stands over his body. The stallion’s eyes are spinning and drool leaks from his mouth. Red then looks up at the startled ponies. “I’m sorry about all this. But I had no choice. No matter what, I am going to protect my friends from danger.” Red thinks that it feels good to say that. “We still want to know about how the hills caught on fire,” a mare says. Red turns to look at Prism, who is silent, and then back at the mare. He swallows silently. “I have to be honest. The fires were my fault. It’s because I was trying to make a spell and it got out of control. I can’t control fire. It’s not my special talent.” He walks to Prism. “I’m sorry I lied. It wasn’t the right thing to do. I know that now.” Red can’t read Prism’s mind and for all he knows, she could be disgusted with him. But even if she was, he is certain that he’s never acted more grown up now than any other time in his life. The real him is here for all to see and even if she rejects his friendship then he’ll just have to live with that. A moment passes where the ponies, including Prism, must be registering what he had just said. But Prism soon blinks rapidly and her posture softens. “I for one accept your apology,” she says. She takes Red outside, leaving those ponies alone to perhaps reflect on things. They don’t say anything as they reach Red’s house. They stand outside it and he fiddles his hooves. He doesn’t know what to say but luckily, she does. “Red…if I may ask, what does your cutie mark really mean?” Red looks at his flank. “It’s my passion and the fire that represents it. My love towards my friends. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them, even if it means putting myself in danger.” She then starts laughing. “Hey, I was being serious,” he says, frowning. She shakes her head. “It’s not you. I’m remembering something my mom said to me before I came here. She said that I might find something really special that will make me understand what it means to be a princess. I thought it was meeting Twilight Sparkle but while she was an amazing figure to talk to, I think that thing she was talking about was meeting you and understanding what you had to teach me. I guess I just couldn’t believe that I found it.” She goes and gives Red a kiss on his forehead. “Thank you for everything.” Red feels heat in his cheeks but he doesn’t really blush since he’s already red. “Are you going home?” “I’m afraid so. I think it’s best to take my leave now that I have a fresh perspective on what it means to be a princess. I don’t think things will get better around here anytime soon anyway. But it will be okay. You will still have my phone number and you can call me anytime you want to talk.” They hug outside Red’s house. She leaves that very afternoon, taking the first train out of town. While she is making her blog about her trip to Ponyville, Red sits at his computer. He opens his diary and types in it, reporting on the amazing changes that a computer can only recognize in theory but never express on its own. He doesn’t think about his own princess anymore. He fills his new entry with his thoughts on Prism, his true friend. He is certain that they’ll stay in touch through the technology that Prism’s mother created. If he’s lucky enough, maybe he will. It’s one of his many hopes: that she’ll visit him soon, that he can have his favorite candy maker send her something special and that he never forgets what his cutie mark really stands for. He has a lot of ponies to tell about it. Raptor Red stands from his computer and then, with a press of his hoof, turns it off.