• Published 29th Feb 2012
  • 848 Views, 19 Comments

Blank Pages - ScribbleHooves



Celestia's best librarian is trying to find her special talent, despite being well into adulthood.

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II

I woke up with a start. I put on my glasses and looked at my glowing owl clock, which was across the
stone-walled room 5AM... Great. Well, I might as well pack up everything I didn't last night, at least.
And go over everything a couple more times. I'm always forgetting things, no matter how much I check
over... sigh. I lumber sleepily over to my mirror, as I use my magic to turn the lights on. I look at the
pony staring back at me, looking her over-- She does the same. She has a small frame, but it's not like
those pretty ponies that are fragile or dainty. She is kind of awkward and gawky... She has a dull brown
coat, and an equally dull, dark blue-grey mane that sticks out everywhere. No wonder nopony really seems
to notice her, I think. I look at my flank, though not in the mirror. Blank as ever. I yawn in reply to
my thoughts. I can't be bothered to sulk right now... I have to prepare myself for the mare I'll be
meeting today! I look over at the dresser and will my brush over to myself using my magic. I look back at
the lame mare in the mirror again, and watch as she brushes her hair. To no avail, however, as her mane
still sticks out every which way, but not in the cute way some of those goregeous model ponies in my
books have it. It just looks unruly... so much so that it covers up my horn completely, as usual. Great,
so much for a good presentation. I set the brush back down and canter over to my bags. I check each one
for its contents, and just when I decide I haven't forgotten anything, I remember one of the most
important things! My cloak! I gallop over to my closet. I pull out my hand-me-down, royal arms cloak. It
was passed from father to son in my family for generations, but... then my parents had a daughter, and
they certainly didn't want another child. My father didn't mind too much, he simply gave it to me without
much thought. I've always been kind of embarassed about it,though... at least if I was a stallion, my
colors would be better suited for me... and I wouldn't be so small. I put on my cloak, that thankfully
covers my barren flank. It's a dusty, dark red old cloak with some gold embroidering on it. It smells
wonderfully old. The smell of old things just makes me feel like I'm right in the history of whatever the
object is. I can almost see my great, great, great, great grandfather galloping into battle with his
mighty cloak on, horn ready to stop any opposers to the throne. I happily sat for awhile with my musings
of the cloak's history. I did this often when I had it on. Those musings had a way of calming my nerves
and allowing me to forget whatever issue was going on. I was interuppted by a knock on my balcony-door.
I had a low-height loft in the royal castle, so usually the pegasus charriots would meet me at my small
balcony. I nervously trotted outside to greet the large, white, winged stallions that would be flying me
to Ponyville.
"Hello, sirs... um, just a moment, let me get my bags... Thank you for flying me..."
The friendlier-looking of the two piped up."No need to thank us, it's our job." He said with a
reassuring smile. He knew I was nervous. It seems like everypony noticesthat about me... I should watch
my body language more... oh! My bags. I galloped over and quickly lifted them with my magic, and put them
on the back of the charriot as I hopped on myself. My journey begins, I suppose...