//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: The Starting of the Night // Story: Trash Bin Fic: The Gray Mares // by Bearycool //------------------------------// You’re still here? PART 1: The Starting of the Night === “Muffins are always the best! They always are there to save the day, even when they don’t look like one!” -Derpy “Hope is a good thing - maybe the best thing, and no good thing ever dies.” -Stephen King === Chapter 1:  The Gray Mares Our story begins on the hottest summer day over the town of Ponyville.  Everypony set out to try and beat the heat by staying indoors and staying away from parching rays of the Equestrian sun. If one went outside, one could see that nopony walked about outside; not even the merchants could stand the heat. If one looked up, one could see a baby blue sky with small cotton white clouds scattered about. The sun could be seen at its zenith, its rays splashing down upon the land. If one looked closer, taking great care from looking at the sun, one could see a small gray streak flying past Ponyville. This is where we begin our story, and perhaps end it as well. This small gray streak is one our protagonist, Derpy Hooves, flying past Ponyville at lightning speed that would make Rainbow Dash nod with respect. Her mail bag jangled slowly as the wind rushed past her gray flank. Her cocked-eyed eyes look at different directions, but she knew where she was going in her confused world. As she flew, Derpy hummed a small tune as she flew past the Apple Family Farm. “Oh little, tasty muffins; oh delicious sweet, sweet, things. So tasty, tasty, tasty… oh so… erm… good!” A faint taste of banana nut muffin lingered in her mouth, and she sighed in ecstasy. Before she took flight, Derpy had gone to the Sugarcube Corner and had gotten a muffin from Mrs. Cake. Derpy didn’t see Pinkie Pie anywhere as she took off once more, but she shrugged it off; Pinkie usually went out to do some crazy party with either Gummy or her friends. As Derpy continued to hum her muffin song, she took out a small parcel with a label titled “Zecora, Everfree forest.” She nodded slightly, and placed the parcel back into her mailbag. She had been to Zecora’s hut a few times to deliver what appeared to be small bottles of something. She had talked to her a few times, but could barely understand her with all her rhyming. However, even though she couldn’t understand her too well, she was happy to know that she never called her Ditzy in her confusing way of speaking. Everypony she had ever been to seem to have had once called her Ditzy. Just yesterday, Derpy had delivered a package of manuscripts to Twilight Sparkle’s tree house. As she had descended, she could see Twilight just leaving out the front door. “Hey, Twilight!” shouted Derpy. “I got these square things for you!” “Hello, Ditzy! I see you’re up and about today!” “Twilight, my names Derpy! D-U-R-P-Y, Derpy!” “Of course, Derpy! How’s your craving for muffins today?” “The same, always wanting more!” “Of course,” said Twilight, smiling. “Have a nice day, and don’t ever be sad again, you hear?!” “But I…” But Twilight was already away from earshot. Derpy had sighed, and when she realized that Twilight had forgotten her package she placed it on the “welcome” mat and flew back up into the sky. Derpy could see Zecora’s hut down below.  She began her descent and felt the cool air of the Everfree forest through her flank. The lights were off in the hut, so Derpy assumed that Zecora was either out collecting herbs, or meeting up with someone. She could still smell a strange flowery aroma coming from the house; Zecora had probably concocted a strange brew last night and the smell continued to linger. Derpy hesitated at the front door to take in the smell. It reminded her of a day at Cloudsdale. Yeah, a sweet day with a friend… or was it a reflection? Her mind’s eye became clouded with images of another pony that looked exactly like her when she was younger. Maybe; she couldn’t quiet remember what she looked like back then. In fact, most of her memories as a filly were as dark as a starless and moonless sky. “Might’ve been me not eating my daily muffins!” she would tell herself sometimes. “Not having a muffin a day keeps your memories away!” Nevertheless, that pony stared intently at her and the flowery aroma clouded her senses. Some memories of the bullies from Cloudsdale came back to her, but she quickly shrugged them off. However, she wasn’t quick enough before a quick sentence came sliding from the memories. “Hey, bubble butt!” That shocked her to a point that her eyes aligned straight for a moment, but only for a moment. Her mind began to dissipate the memory, as it always did, and quickly forgot the small sentence. Derpy placed the parcel on the door step and began to ignore the smell coming from the house. She took a quick peek inside the hut, and when saw it was dark and no one seemed to be home she flew off once again. === To this end, we shall leave Derpy by herself to wander to and fro for a while before returning when the time comes. As we leave, we turn ourselves to an open window in Ponyville. The house is right next to the Sugarcube and is not far off from Twilight’s tree house. The house itself is a light blue, with hints of black at the sides of the windows. There are many homes in Ponyville with black somewhere in them, but this black seemed to stand out from the blue. Darkness, hidden behind false calm is what someponies call it whenever they passed by it. The ponies of Ponyville came to this conclusion because of its occupant, but they had no idea how deep their meaning actually ran; only the superficial view. The occupant’s flank is as gray as a gloomy September day, and her eyes as yellow as light gold. Someponies confuse her with Derpy, but if one looked at her eyes one could see that they were always straight. Her eyes stared down at the table as she quietly sipped her tea. To get a better understanding of Ditzy, we must look at her house. The color of the house is alighted with all the colors of the rainbow: pink, yellow, green, purple, red, blue, and so forth. However, if one looked closer at the colors one could see a light tint of black, even in the white washed table. Many plants were placed on the window sills, but even with the sun’s vital rays pounding on their leaves and the occupant watering them always with care, they always seem to droop. An old grandfather clock ticks in the main room of the house, and a light red sofa is a few feet to the left of it; this is all that lies in this room. The upstairs has two rooms, a bathroom and a bedroom.  The bedroom has a small blue bed with a nightstand to the right of it. Here, the black tint is the most predominant. The bathroom lays outside where a small hall ends abruptly as if it there were supposed to be more rooms besides the two just stated. The bathroom has a red rugged carpet on top of the porcelain and the walls were painted purple. There is no black tint in this room, but if one looked at the red carpet, one could see that it carried on the appearance of a scarlet mark on the pure porcelain. After looking about, one could justify that the idea that this house was just a false calm covering a darkness to be true. Going back down, we can still see the occupant drinking her light tea still. Entering where she is, we see that the room is a kitchen and dining room. This room is the most white of any the rooms. The porcelain gleamed immaculately with the table and the walls. There is no black, besides the table, that can be spotted, and one could see the occupant relaxing in a lawn chair. In fact, her eyes seemed to have begun to slip into a daze until someone began knocking at the door. “Coming,” she sighed, getting out of the chair. “Cool your flank….” She walked with a quiet limb as she reached the front door, which is near to the grandfather clock, and opened the door with her hoof. “Yes, how can Derpy slash Ditzy help you today?” As Ditzy—which is her true name and we must formerly call her from here on out—looked outside, she saw that no one was there. She sighed and shrugged, most likely just some fillies playing pranks once again. She  turned her head back to the kitchen, not looking down at ground as she turned her head back inside.  As she closed the door, she stopped in mid swing; she heard a slight shuffling from the kitchen. She held her breath for a moment, lightly shutting the door, and walked in slight footfalls to the middle of the room. She stopped and heard the shuffling again; she could also hear slight bangs and a window opening. She had nothing to hold as a weapon, and was defenseless if the intruder was dangerous. She ruffled her wings and took deep breaths. “Come on Ditzy, you’ve been through worse,” she whispered. “You’ve been in much worse…” This calmed her a bit, but she still walked slowly to the entrance to the kitchen. She poked her head through first and moved her eyes to the table, then the sink, and finally to the refrigerator. Her eyes dilated like they were in the dark, like they had been before from what I remember, and almost thought of how hilarious the view was before becoming serious once more. The intruder’s flank was wagging to and fro, showing a hat as a cutie mark, as the intruder looked through the refrigerator. He was wearing a top hat that pushed against the shelves comically and what appeared to be a tie around his neck. Ditzy could hear the intruder mumbling to himself as if he picking and choosing between what to do with the food; eat it, or let it be? As Derpy moved closer to her snack eating friend, she heard him utter something that made her blood turn cold. “Maybe I should just eat and scram, maybe it’s not time to tell her that she must tell the other gray mare… Maybe…” “H-hey,” Ditzy stuttered. “What are you doing here, you little hat clown colt!?” The intruder turned around, his hat jumping off his head as he turned and landing lightly back on it. He didn’t look as surprised as she would have thought, but it didn’t stop him from looking scared. “D-Ditzy…” said the stranger. “Oh good, you know my name! That’s good that my intruder knows me. Perhaps you’re a stalker that has finally gotten the nerve to sniff the food I’ve touched, oh joy!” “What are you talking about,” said the stranger in genuine surprise. “I thought that’s how you get food here!” Ditzy snorted and glared at him. “What kind of crazy world you live in?” “I wouldn’t say the present tense of live,” said the stranger. “Yes, I lived in a somewhat different world than yours, but I thought you would know that from the hat and cutie mark that you most likely gazed at while I looked through your food.” Ditzy’s eyes narrowed and widened once again. Yes, she knew of such a character: the strange attire, the strange cutie mark, and the strange way of finding food. Yes, she had met someone like him before, but it was when she was only a filly. Yeah, well a lot more stuff happened during childhood than adulthood… Ditzy thought.         Ditzy gazed at the stranger for a moment and nodded her head slightly. This colt appeared to be part of the Hatter’s Clan. Ditzy remembered that this group of ponies was the most hidden, unknown, and very few in amount of any clan. However, they were the most powerful.  She had seen them quite a few times teleporting from nowhere at all, then back again to places unknown to her. Taken during childhood from the slums of unknown worlds, they constantly lived in darkness and had hearts that were fragile as glass. They were in-tuned to feelings more than anypony and could feel even the slightest pain in a pony. This power was a gift, but also a curse to their fragile hearts. They were, for a less than cruder word, pacifists. They did not wish to fight, or even others to. However, when war did break out they called upon a force called the Light and would go out on the front line; with hearts shattering inside.         Dear reader, let me tell you, personally, of the Light. Ditzy knows of this, but let me, the narrator, give you some more on the subject. The Light is not just a force but an entity of himself. I use himself for it is not an ambiguous thing as some count ambiguity. Many know of the Light, but they call him with different names. The Hatters call him the Light, so to hold off confusion we will use this term. However, let the reader understand that the Light has more than one name and you may have come across it from time to time in speech.         There is more about the Light, but I believe it’s not yet time for everything to be known. However, one final thing should be said. The Light is said to be cornerstone of the Hatter’s power and attuned emotions.         Going away from this, we see that Ditzy looking at the stranger’s top hat. The hats, as Ditzy remembered, were made by the owners themselves to signify their covenant with the clan and their workmanship after every stage of their life. The more interesting, or exquisite, the hat was, the more powerful and wiser that pony was in the Hatters Clan.   “Your hat,” Ditzy blurted out. “It looks kind of bland.” The stranger looked up at his hat and chuckled a little. “Don’t let it fool you, Ditzy. I’m actually planning on making another hat, since it’s been a period of time for the next stage to happen…” He sighed, and looked down at the ground for moment, pondering on something that Ditzy could not read.The colt shook his head and looked back at Ditzy with a surprised vivacious, somewhat plastered, smile. “Forgot to introduce myself! My name is Gallant, former assistant of the Hatter himself!” “Former,” Asked Ditzy, beginning to relax and heading back to where her tea was. “Got promoted not too long ago,” said Gallant.         “Uh-huh,” said Ditzy, now setting and drinking her tea once more. “So your promotion gave you the right to raid my refrigerator?” “Like I said, I’ve never been in your world. I believe you are familiar with the Hatters?” “I’m familiar with your leader at least, yes.” “Then you know that when we were little we were taken away because of either our potential, or the horrible times and sympathy of the Hatter.” Ditzy didn’t actually know this, but she nodded her head slightly and kept sipping her tea. “From what I remember, I was taken away because of both…” began Gallant. “But that’s another story for another time.” “I can’t wait to hear it,” said Ditzy, who actually found the concept deep down interesting. “By the way, was that you knocking at the door?” “I don’t believe so; I don’t even think I was near the front door when I went through your window.” “Through the… never mind.  Then who did I shut the door on? I didn’t see them when I began opening it.” “Well, you came to the right pony! We Hatters are good at looking at past events!” “Then why don’t you have an hourglass on your flank,” asked Ditzy. “Very funny, you know that we are not time travelers like the Horizon Clan. We just look at reality in all its dimensions.” Horizon Clan, Ditzy thought. They were rowdy lot, weren’t they? She pushed the thought away and waved her hoof at Gallant. “Yeah, yeah: Dimensions, conspiracies, crazy hat day,  and all that junk that I already know. Can you see who was at the door so I can apologize to them! I’m actually surprised that they haven’t come back knocking yet…” “Sure,” said Gallant, closing his eyes. Ditzy looked up from her tea and sighed at the sight. She didn’t need an explanation on what he was doing, for she had seen this trick before. She placed the cup on the saucer and stood up once more. She walked up towards Gallant and placed her hoof on him to see if he would flinch, just in case he was lying about himself. He did not. She nodded slightly, and looked out the window.  In a way, she knew that someone like him would show up and make her day become frazzled. However, she did enjoy the company of Gallant because of the way the Hatter had treated her before and just because she usually never had anyone over. She looked at the tea cup and saw that it was still three fourths full. The light breeze made small ripples in the cup and Ditzy became transfixed at the sight. Light danced on the surface, and a hint of gray permeated the top of the maroon liquid for one moment. Ditzy flinched at the sight and turned around back to the window. Ditzy kept her eyes fixated on the baby blue sky and her ears on the steady breathing of Gallant. “How long does it take to look at the past,” said Ditzy out loud. “Is he just pretending to do it to impress me? Doubt it, I did just give him a quick jab…” She gave a glance at Gallant. She had seen that serene look on the Hatter before, and thought better of him pretending. She looked up again at the sky and saw a gray streak run by her vision. From seeing that little bit of color many times in the sky she safely assumed that it was Derpy. She turned her backed away from the window and felt her heart ache a little. “You just can’t get away from gray…” Ditzy whispered. “Just can’t…” She returned back to her seat and tried to calm the raging flood of memories of Derpy and her as a filly. As she began to sip her tea once more, she saw Gallant beginning to rouse. “Finally, took you long enough to see such a mundane thing. What were you doing, looking at some fine ponies walking by the door way or something?” Gallant didn’t respond. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his hat tipped to the right and his body swayed. Ditzy held the cup to her lips as Gallant began to tip down to the ground. Before he hit the ground, his eyes flew open with horror in them. Ditzy dropped her tea cup, shattering it, and quickly went up to Gallant’s side before his head hit the floor. “Gallant, what the heck was that!?” said Ditzy, putting her hooves under his head, trying to look into at Gallant’s black wavering eyes. “I… I…” gasped Gallant. “Spit it out, before I drop you on your head!” “The door…. He knocked on the door; left something.” “Left what, left what!?” Gallant looked into Ditzy’s yellow eyes, which made Ditzy become silent. She had seen fear like this before, but only when she was a filly; a dark aching fear that would become pronounced even at the slightest glance. In her peripheral vision , the dark black tint of the table began to pronounce itself more and her mind started to spin. “Ditzy… it’s time to get down to business,” Gallant said, his face now stern. “I wasn’t sent here to chew the fat with you, or chew the fat in your refrigerator.  I was sent here to tell you that it is time for the other to remember…” “The... other…” stuttered Ditzy. “You know who I mean, Ditzy. Derpy, the other gray mare, the forgetful one! She needs to remember the past soon, if not now! Ditzy, I saw Him knocking at your door, the shadow, and when you opened the door he left a small charred leaf on the front door. Ditzy… the shadow is back, he’s walking about in his dream form once again… it’s the Old Dragon!” With those final words, Ditzy fainted. Chapter 2: The Mind of Ditzy Gray, the only color of her mind: the gray matter, the gray air, and the gray grave. This is the summary of Ditzy’s mind, but even gray holds colors; colors as vibrant as a pony’s flank, and darkness as deep as forever. In summary, Ditzy’s gray was her colors, her memories. As Ditzy lay still in the real world, her mind began to swish with its gray memories and began to tell a story to the unconscious Ditzy.  She could not hear what they were saying, but this does not mean that we can hear what they say. The memories are jagged, not in the slightest way being chronological. The first memory that shows is the memory of the Hatter’s coming to Ditzy and Derpy. The two of them laid huddled near a dark tree in the Everfree Forest. The dim stars of the night were the only things that kept them from now seeing. The trees were farther part where the two fillies lay, that it appeared to be that they were in a small field.          The grass surrounded them and the trees farther away encircled them like a giant cage bars. The two of them were still panting and the grass swayed as they laid on the side of the great tree. “Look what we’ve gotten ourselves into,” said Ditzy. “A dark forest with everything that can eat us!” Derpy shivered next to Ditzy, but her expression wasn’t of despair or discomfort like Ditzy. “Somepony is grumpy!” said Derpy.  “ you sure look... erm... what’s the word... Oh! similar, yeah that’s it! You sure look similar to me but you’re way off from it! You don’t even like muffins! Come on Ditzy, mahffins! Muffins are always the best, and you know it! They always are there to save the day; even when they don’t look like one! You’ll see, see, see, see! There’s always one coming around, just you... err.. wait!” “Will you cut it out with the muffins! Don’t you see, Derpy? We’re not going to make it through the night, and even if we did how do you think we would find our way home?” “Just fly, fly!” chirped Derpy. “You might be able to, Derpy, but my wings have yet to fully develop like yours and I’ve just started flying lessons.” “Oh… right…” Derpy huddle closer to Ditzy, placing her small wings over to give her warmth. “Then let’s wait for a tasty muffin to come and get us out.” “Oh Derpy, you are right about us being different,” said Ditzy, hugging Derpy and placing her smaller wings on Derpy. The night grew older and the trees started to glaze with sparkles of frozen water on their leaves. The wind was calm but its bites were fierce. As the two fillies rested on the bark of the tree, shuffling for warmth, the other trees began to sway. Ditzy had her eyes closed and open them abruptly when she heard the trees moving. Derpy had fallen asleep some time ago and didn’t steer when Ditzy moved from the comfort of Derpy’s wings. The breeze still lay soft on her flank, but the trees churned as if they were in a maelstrom. The grass under her hooves did the same thing as well, but the wind actually never picked up. Ditzy’s eyes moved about, looking at each part of the foliage moving about in queer positions. “Please tell me I’m dreaming…” A quick swish of air bounced on her and flank and she yelped, waking Derpy from her cold slumber. “What… did you see a tasty sweet?” said Derpy, still delirious. “Not quite...” said a strange voice. Ditzy, her back still turned to Derpy, quickly spun around. At first, she didn’t see anything except Derpy yawning, trying to find to origin of the voice at first as well. Ditzy narrowed her eyes at the great tree they had been sleeping under and saw the change in its bark. There appeared to be a giant wild plum that suddenly grown from its bark. As Ditzy’s eyes fixated on the spot, she saw that the plum was moving slightly. It didn’t exactly sway with the movement of the breeze, but seemed to twitch a little. The bark also seemed to be protruding away from the tree. After looking at the strange site for another second, a pair of eyes came from the bark. Ditzy screeched, and stumbled back into another tree. Derpy, on the other hand, looked at the eyes with strange content and happiness. “So you’re the muffin!” cried Derpy. “Indeed I am,” said the bark, which was actually a pony camouflaged with the tree. Ditzy, still breathing erratically, backed away from the tree and looked at the pony. His hat was what she mistook as a plum and his skin and clothes as bark.  Ditzy, calming down now, became fierce at how this pony scared the living life out at her and began to walk up to the stranger without worry whatsoever. “Just who do you think you are,” cried the filly. “Scaring me—I mean us— like that! Just how long have you been here, and who are you and what in the name of Equestria is your name?” “Peace, child,” said the stranger. ‘One question at a time.” “OK…” said Ditzy, becoming irritated. “Who are you?” “My name…” said the stranger soberly. “I believe I have many names, but in the end they all call me the Hatter.” “A hatter,” laughed Derpy, not unkindly. “Isn’t that a person who makes hats?” “Indeed it is,” said the Hatter, smiling. “In fact, that’s actually what I do!” “So we’re to assume you made that weird hat of yours on top of your head?” asked Ditzy. “My lady, this hat is my pride and joy!” cried the Hatter, moving his hooves to his hat. “It embalms everything that I have done, every battle that I have won, every heart stringed played, and…” “...And every plum that you’ve probably eaten,” interjected Ditzy. Derpy snorted and began to laugh. The Hatter looked at Ditzy and Derpy sternly in the eyes.  His black eyes were twinkling with a calm fire within them, and gave off a power that would make a full grown pony flinch under them. However, Derpy continued to laugh in ecstasy and Ditzy kept a firm grip on his eyes. After a moment, the Hatter began to laugh himself. “You two are strong,” said the Hatter, laughing hysterically. “The Light was right about you two, indeed! Come, let us sit right here and discuss some more on your questions Ditzy, and then some!” Ditzy still kept a strong gaze on him, but began to relax.  She moved forward and sat next Derpy who was still chuckling. The Hatter sat to the opposite side of them and began to sit down before standing once more. His eyes stared with discontent towards the ground and the two fillies could see horsebumps on his flank. “This land has been defiled so many times that it has become colder than ice…” The Hatter placed a hoof on his head and seemed to be trying to control himself. “I’m surprised you two have been able to sleep at all on this land. You two are indeed tougher than you look.” The Hatter released his hoof off his face and looked down at the ground once more. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and spoke. “Vien ut dien stido fri y sti fur.” Soft light came out of the top of his hoof, and he placed it on top of the grass. “Vien, nos van nit sti metacholic.”   As he said this, the grass stood up as if a shot of electricity sprung through it. The light from his hoof multiplied into the soil and Ditzy looked down in shock surprised, and Derpy giggled as warmth began to be felt on her rump. “It’s like a warm blanket,” cried Derpy. “I’ve never seen magic like this,” said Ditzy in awe. “ It looks like that hat of his does hold something…” The Hatter took his hoof off the grass and, pleased with his work, sat down. “That should keep us warm for a while. Now… what are you questions, Ditzy?” “How do you know… never mind, I saw what you did and I’ll assume you have mind powers for now… Anyway, Mr. Hatter, why have you come here, and why do you keep saying we’re strong?” The Hatter nodded somberly at the question. “Are you sure you want to start with that question? I was hoping we could talk some before discussing something that deep.” “with your reaction, it makes me more curious...” said Ditzy. “Me too!” chirped Derpy. The Hatter nodded, placed a hoof on the tree, made it illuminate with a strange aura of light, and looked at them. The two fillies looked at the tree and wondered why he had done that. “We’re going to need some light in this dark tale…” began the Hatter somberly. “let us begin with the beginning of the beginning. With the Old Dragon.” As he began to talk, the trees rustled in light melodies and the memory begins to vanish. As it vanishes, we can see another memory taking its place. It is Ditzy’s house, and one can see her sipping another warm tea, and looking out at a winter outline outside the window. She takes a breath and feels the bite of === The winter breeze coming at her. “Vien, nos van nit sti metacholic,” whispers Ditzy. She can hear the other ponies doing the yearly winter wrap up and smiled lightly at them working outside. She saw many ponies flying and walking quickly to and fro past her opened window, quick and busy on starting the new season. As she sipped her tea, she could hear far off cries that made her stop in mid sip. “Ditzy Doo accidentally went north to get the southern birds!” said the voice of a pony. “Ah that feather brain,” said a voice that sounded like Rainbow Dash. “Didn’t she learn her lesson last year when she went west!?” She shook her head lightly, and continued to drink her tea. “It’s not Ditzy that’s messing up, it’s Derpy…” Ditzy said. She placed the tea cup down on the table and moved her head back. “Just Derpy, not I.  Vien, nos van nit sti metacholic. Indeed, now’s the time to be happy…” She stood up from her chair and thought she would lie down in bed for a while. As she did, she looked out the window and saw a pony looking at her. It was Lyra. “Ditzy, aren’t you supposed to get the southern birds,” asked Lyra. “For the last time, I’m not the town’s mailpony!” “Whatever you say...” said Lyra, quickly walking away from the window. Lyra, I know the past, do you wish to know?  Thought Ditzy randomly. She shook off the thought and went up to her bed. The memory changes back to the first memory, but a little later in time. The grass is now cool but the tree is still alight. Ditzy and even Derpy gave sober looks at the Hatter. The Hatter stirs from his spot and places === His hoof on the grass once more. He says the incantation once more and the light and warmth return back to the grass. “You know now what I’ve came here for.” “It sure is something, but it does add up…” said Ditzy “But sure isn’t as sweet as a muffin should…” added Derpy. “But you at least know your future,” said the Hatter. “Still not a muffiny sweet,” said Derpy. The Hatter chuckled, but it sounded like a light cry. “No, I suppose not. But you did ask why I was here. Now, since that’s done, anything more before we go?” “Go?” asked Ditzy. “Well, I would assume you two would like to get out of this dreary place, plus not to mention the things I must show you!” “Show us… never mind, I will know soon enough. I only have one more question, what was all that chanting when you warmed up the grass? Also, you don’t have a unicorn’s horn, yet you still were able to cast magic, how did you do that?” “Well, little one, I will first talk about how I did magic since that will clear up the former question’s answer.” He cleared his throat and began. “I am the leader of the Hatter’s Clan. I did not name it from myself; this name is given upon the pony that ascends to its rank. We are taught the fine arts of magic as fillies, and are able to harness its powers in different ways. Anypony that was a unicorn was of course able to harness magic through their horn, but they were able to harness even greater power than your average unicorn. Other ponies, such as myself, would learn it from either incantations, or placing our force through our hoof, or both. “What’s that force?” asked Ditzy. “Some call it chi; some call it the essence of primal strength; but I believe it’s something else. It’s a power given through our body, from another source. It’s a combination of the soul and another soul. To us, we call it the Light.” The Hatter stopped, waiting to see if the two fillies who asked anything on what he said. When they didn’t, he began again. “If we learn through incantations we are taught a language of old that nopony in your land knows. It is called Heinbrow. It is a mixture of different languages from different worlds and lands, and holds great powers within its word. ‘Vien, nos van nit sti metacholic’ in common means, ‘come, let us not be melancholy.’ Vien, meaning come and nos van meaning let us. You can conjugate the verbs to form different tenses; (tenses, little ones, are things like you, I, we, he, she, and it.) An example can be the verb ‘to go,’ which in Heinbrow is ‘vadar.’ Vao, I go, Vae, you go, van, we go, and so on. I can go one further about this language, but I think you get the point.” “Yeah, my mind is spinning…” said Ditzy and Derpy together. The Hatter chuckled, “I felt the same way when learning it. But it has made me think of my own language, and has made me grow in humble power.” “What’s the word for muffin?” asked Derpy. “It’s actually muffin, funny enough.” “Then I suppose that’s all I need to know!” Ditzy and the Hatter snorted and soon started to crack up. Derpy started to laugh a little, not knowing what was so funny on what she said. The light of the tree seemed to grow a little brighter from their laughing, and the grass stood up from it. “Well then, I think it’s time to go on up ahead,” said the Hatter. “This grass might be warm, but it’s starting to get colder and I would like to be in the warmth of my studies.” “Studies?” asked Ditzy, still giggling. “Do you think I don’t do anything all day?” “By the way you sound, you seemed to already know everything,” said Ditzy “I know a good many things, but not everything. Now come, I have prepared a room for you two outside of my studies, and I assume you two would like to go back to Cloudsdale later on when you rest up?” “No, I don’t think we want to for a little bit…” said Ditzy. “I agree,” said Derpy, with a solemn voice unlike her own. “I don’t ever want to go back there again…” Ditzy looked at her and frowned. The Hatter looked at them for a moment and nodded. “I understand completely. Now come, hold on to my hooves and hang on.” They looked at him questionably, but thought better of it. The grass started to cool once more, and the light from the tree started to dim.  The chill from the forest began to become more predominant, and the two fillies began to shake from it. The tale from the Hatter started to race back into their minds. The Darkness, the Void, the (Old Dragon…) Last Enemy.  Derpy’s eyes moved into place for a moment as the two of them looked at each other. This was something new to them, something unexpected; so much so that their minds wanted to forget it, but couldn’t.  As the Hatter reached out his hoof to them, the two of them began to question whether they should return to Cloudsdale. No, this is better, thinks Ditzy. At least this journey we can do something other than cry or run…. …. Or blow bubbles, thinks Derpy.  Bubbles are tiny and pop, but we shall not!  We are, we are… “Come, Gray Mares. Nos van nit sti metacholic.” And with that, the two of them reached out for his hoof and the memory begins to fade. A final memory begins to stir within Ditzy’s mind. However, this memory is a jumble and elapses in on itself like a stutter of time. Words form and disappear, and different events are squeezed together into one. Images come, and images go, but the predominant color is always there. Gray. This memory, if one can call it that, can only be transcribed within its words and its quick scenery that passes by. The first sentence that is coherent is heard, but it is only above a whisper. Let the reader keep these words that are about to be said to their heart, and keep in mind that the deepest things are found under the biggest piles of rubbish. And if one looks, one can see-- === “Bubbles! Bubbles on your butt!” said the laughing ponies. Ditzy backed away and started to cry. She couldn’t  hold it back, even though she knew it would only make it worse. “Bubbles, bubbles, bubbly bubbles,” they chanted. Ditzy looks back and forth and sees in her peripheral vision that Derpy is running to her. “Run, Ditzy, RUN! He’s coming!” The chanting stops and the light gray of the memory begins to darken. Derpy’s eyes fixate on one spot: the sky. Her tears dry up at once when she sees the horror run through her sight. Instead of crying, she starts to run. (Just as judgement) The memory shifts to a dark room with a single candle on the left side of the room. There is a single wooden bunk on the other side with white sheets and two fillies lying on them. It is Derpy and Ditzy. “Are we able to be powerful?” asks Derpy at the bottom bunk. “I Don’t know, Derpy. I only know how to be a filly…” “But… maybe, just maybe…” “What Derpy? What do you think will be able to change that?” “Maybe that’s all we need… to be fillies...” (comes, so too must) The next shift shows the birth of Ditzy. This hidden memory shows two strange figures, and Ditzy’s mother giving birth. As Ditzy’s head pops out and her body following suit into the world, a single phrase is said by one of the figures. “The second has come…” (Darkness) The final shift returns to where Ditzy has just finished talking to Lyra. This memory is strange because it does not follow where Ditzy is going. Instead, we are left where the kitchen is. The window is still opened, and the breeze was beginning to let in a draft within the house. As Ditzy disappears upstairs, everything starts to flicker. The lights go on and off at such a rapid pace that one might think they were blinking rapidly. Even the sun seemed to be turning on and off along with the lighting, but nopony outside seemed to notice.  As the wind blew into the house once more, a single dead leaf, black as midnight, entered inside. It fluttered with the gentle air and went up and down, down and up, and side by side. As it reached the top of the table, it seemed to stand still in place, as if picking a right spot to fall. In fact, its edges didn’t even whisper with the wind at all. The lights started to blink even faster until the darkness came on so fast that it seemed like the lights didn’t come on at all. A low rumble was heard outside, but nopony  paid any attention to it. With one final blow of the wind, the leaf began to shake. the time comes near, yelled the leaf. Yes, gray has turned to twilight, and soon to night! The rumbling stops and the leaf suddenly falls on the table. It doesn’t just lightly fall on it, but goes vertically downward as if it were dead weight. The sides begin to crumble up into folds and the lighting returns to normal. As the memory fades, one can see that the leaf starts to stain the table. Everything is gray for a moment, but it soon begins to vanish when a voice comes from a distant land, and a distant reality. (come again.) “Come again, what did you say?” asked the voice. At a break neck pace, everything disappears and a light begins to engulf the darkness. Slight moaning can be heard from inside the light, and the speed increases. The scent of tea leaves raft inside the light and grows more powerful every second. “Come on Ditzy, wake up! WAKE UP!” And with the light shining within her mind’s eye, she did. === I believe the time is ripe. The places are set, and the characters are introduced. It is now time to look at the interior of a heart. For you have seen the skin, the superficial, but now we go to the heart. Dear reader, duality is a strange thing, for how can one thing be two things? One heart, yet connected to another? However, this is where we shall tread onward. We leave reality, and enter the heart. We shall see the most powerful pony, and the potential mares’ true sentiments; and, perhaps, understand the meaning of two and one. So come, let us clear the muck and understand that Old Dragon, the one I am sadden by, and the nature of why two ponies came together, for they did not come by looks, but by heart.