Chapter 18: The Children's Section
The Glories of the Library
To my embarrassment, it was Dissy who first noticed this.
Lore Lover had suggested a few titles to his son, who led us around to a back section. We gaped in hungry awe at the shelves as we passed, the lines of shelves, the thousands upon thousands of tomes which lined them, and all the incredible wealth of knowledge this represented. The Library itself -- well, thou hast seen it, the massive structure, soaring in ways which nothing made of ordinary stone could duplicate. We had grown up around the low structures of Paradise Estate -- ones which, ironically, were even more technologically-advanced than this wonder of the world, for the lost science of the High Eldren had attained heights beyond anything of either the Age of Wonders or that which the Old Empire had built upon the base which the Age of Wonders had bequeathed them. But we did not fully-appreciate this as children: to us, the sheer scale of the Library was a revelation.
To thou, perhaps, who didst grow to marehood in that copy of the Crystal City my Sister raised on Avalon, who taketh for granted what can be done with structural steel and curtain walls, it may not have been as wonderful. To our own selves, it was amazing, as amazing as the Crystal Palace or the polyglot city of which that Palace was the center. And of course the living crystal of the Library is as far beyond the stuctural steel of Manehattan or the flying buttresses of the older parts of Canterlot as those are beyond the wattle-and-daub construction of rustic homes.
There were decorations everywhere, which thou didst not see, for many have since perished, and many others were put into basement vaults for safekeeping before Crimson sortied forth to meet Our invasion. Did he not know that We would never have permitted a sack of the Crystal City? It was a place of peace and refuge to us during our long young marehood, the millennium in which we fought ... of all the places on Earth, least would I have done harm to the Great Library! Even after he marred me ... but that is another tale, and one I am not eager to tell.
We stepped through a square-cut door illustrated by fancifully-rendered paintings of creatures, including ones not native to this place or time -- I remember seeing venomous coatl, sea serpents, elephants, and what looked suspiciously like The Moochick -- if that awesome Eldren scientist-mage had been composed entirely of primary colors and had been a whimsical character from a book for exceptionally dim little children.
The Moochick
Yes, dear Twilight, this annoys me even now, in a time when that painting has long since faded away to trace chemicals, if that much. I know this because I have visited the Great Library since the Crystal City's return, and a new painting adorns that door.
Why? Dost thou know what The Moochick was, what a benefactor to all Ponykind? He was born before the Eldren Apocalypse, the war between Avalontis and Lemaria, that annihilated most of their Kinds and caused an Age of Ice He was already well over eleven thousand centuries old when The Megan met him.
He was almost emmortal. Had he left the Earth with the rest of his race, he might still be alive today, sustained by their science, dwelling in luxury and grace on another plane, or on the world of another star. He chose to remain, because he was a biomancer and loved all Earthlife, wanted to work to repair the great harm that had been done to it in the war. He exhausted his supplies and spent his great powers in this quest.
He wanted to stay neutral, but he greatly loved the Ponies -- thy remote ancestors, Twilight, and through Mimic the ancestors of my own flesh-form. When the Time of Extermination came, he could not bear to see them perish, and he abandoned his ancient neutrality and acted in some ways overt and more ways covert to save our species. It was he who persuaded the Sun Mare to ... but I am getting ahead of my tale.
Know this, Twilight Sparkle. Had The Moochick not lived, and been who he was, it is very likely that Ponykind would now not be -- or would be only as slaves to the Viprallans. Wind Whistler knew him well, and while his great age had slowed his wits, beneath that outer layer of rust there worked a fine mind, and beat a great heart.
He was a hero, Twilight, a hero to our race and many others. It is because of him that our Earth is so rich in life and intelligence. He should be remembered as the great being he was, not reduced to just some stock character in plays and stories for small children. How would you feel, Twilight, if we were viewed that way?
Ah well. I like small children, and I am a stock character in the Nightmare Night tales. I simply mean that he was more than that, and nopony today has even spoken to anypony who remembered him as more than that, save for myself and my Sister.
And Discord, though he now probably finds the absurd way The Moochick is remembered in this post-Cataclysmic world rather amusing. But then, nowadays he has a nasty sense of humor.
The Wall-Painting
The first thing we saw when we passed through the archway was that the ceilings and shelves were both built low.
Not so low that a full-grown stallion would have had trouble passing beneath, but low enough that I saw that I could easily reach the top shelves by rearing up on my hind hooves. Which was of course the point of the design, but all I thought at first was that this arrangement was looked awfully convenient. We could see a staircase leading upward, and the ceiling above was supported on wooden beams rather than being made of the imperishable nano-crystal of the rest of the Great Library.
Dissy looked around with interest as Lore Diver led us along the rows of shelves. I had but a brief impression of extremely colorful-looking wall mosaics, paintings and posters, most of which seemed to depict foals at play in various unlikely but pleasant environments. I remember one cheerful painting of little colts and fillies gamboling amidst a low, walled villa which was made entirely of blocks inscribed with the letters of the Old Amareican alphabet -- the one the Crystal Empire still used with some modifications -- while various fancifully-dressed mares ran or flew around them in a friendly fashion. Something about the blue-coated, pink-haired pegasus mare looked very familiar to me, and Dissy stared at it for a moment as well, before he snorted.
"Wind Whistler," he said, snickering softly. "That's supposed to be Wind Whistler."
My eyes bugged out. Despite her coloration, I had not grasped her identity, probably because the unknown artist had given her an utterly-inane expression such as the brilliant scholar had neither worn in my presence, nor probably in her whole life unless she had gotten terribly drunk. Also, the artist had got her Mark dead wrong, rendering it as a suggestion of wind lines and a pair of pursed lips, rather than the five whistles -- three pink and two dark blue -- that Wind Whistler actually bore on her hips.
The clincher, of course, was the large white tail-bow. That had entered so many legends, both pre- and post-Cataclysmic, that getting that wrong would have bespoken such complete artistic incompetence that the Mark was almost a trival detail in comparison. The first one of those had been given to her by a Big Brother named Path-Finder over two millennia before the Cataclysm, and she had worn that style ever since in his memory -- though, at the time, my little-filly self had no idea why the coolly logical Wind Whistler might choose to do such an odd thing.
That realized, we quickly deciphered the identities of the other mares. There was Firefly, prancing in mid-air beside Wind Whistler in an utterly cheerful way that was actually not that different from her normal demeanor. Surprise, popping out from around a corner in a manner which made it obvious that the artist had actually known some of the stories of Paradise Estate, even granted that our steading wasn't really formed out of alphabet blocks.
"Look," I said with delight, pointing to one painted mare. "There's Mommy!" It was, indeed, Mimic, though they'd gotten her Mark as wrong as Wind Whistler's, making it a blue mask rather like Masquerade's, rather than the red and yellow and green parrot that actually adorned my mother's hindquarters. But her identity was unmistakable, for she wore the Golden Horseshoes. I felt a tremendous surge of homesickness at the sight. I wondered how Mimic was doing -- and it occurred to me, for the first time, that I might have actually hurt her by running away.
"Your mother." said Dissy sadly. He and Mimic had never gotten along. "They left off mine."
It was true. Nowhere on the painting did there seem to be a representation of Shady. Whoever had composed this painting had obviously either not heard of her, or considered her sufficiently important to warrant inclusion.
A Conversation With Lore Diver
Lore Diver had not heard our specific words, but he had noticed that we were interested in the painting.
"Do you like that, my Lady?" he asked me politely.
"'Tis ... pretty." I allowed.
"Pretty something," said Dissy, sotte voce.
"It is meant to be the Estate of Paradise, which legend says lies in the Great Forests far to the south of the Empire; south even of the lands of the Three Tribes," Lore Diver explained to me. "It is said that there live the Undying, an enchanted folk who have dwelt there since long before the Cataclysm, mystic mares who in times long before even then did welcome The Megan to our world, and with her aid struck down Tirek the Annihilator, and many other fearsome foes."
"Indeed?" asked I, remembering to sound impressed. "Are they real?"
"Most do not think so," Lore Diver said. "And I doubt that the Estate looks like this -- this is but a painting for small ... but a painting," he finished hastily, realizing from my soft features that though large for my age, I was younger than him. "I think them real, though," he said bluntly.
"Oh, do tell, most excellent Librarian, sir," Dissy purred. "Why do you think that?"
Lore Diver looked at me, and I arched an eyebrow inquisitively at him. My smile was very real: I was enjoying this game very much.
"My father ..." he began, then lowered his voice even below that usually demanded by a library's hush. "My father told me that he has had converse with one of the Undying," he said. "A scholarly Pegasus, which are two things rarely seen in one and the same Pony. She named herself 'Wind Whistler' -- as in the old legends -- and my father said that when he looked into her eyes, he could well imagine that she had lived for many centuries, for all that she seemed not past early middle age."
"Ooh," asked Dissy, pressing the point. "Noble Sir, was she very fierce? Eyes flashing fire, fetlocks drenched in the blood of her fallen foes?"
Lore Diver looked at him strangely. "No, Oddparts," he explained. "My esteemed father did not meet her in battle. She came to the Library as a scholar, and they discussed rare books. He told me she was surpassing erudite, and both polite and profound in her discourse."
I knew Lore Lover had not lied to his son, for that was Wind Whistler to the life. Now I knew who was her contact in the Crystal City. We of Paradise Estate sometimes moved in the outer world, and sometimes gave history little nudges toward the path we preferred, but we preferred not to draw attention to ourselves. Wind Whistler must have liked and trusted Lore Lover,to have spoken at length with him -- and to have given him her right name.
"A mare of legend," I said. "I would love to see her someday. Does she come here often?"
"Not often," Lore Diver said. "She communicates with the Library mainly by mail. My father has seen her face but a few times."
That was a relief, I thought. We weren't likely to run into here, then. Childishly, it did not occur to me that Wind Whistler was actively looking for us, and that the pattern of her search made it obvious that she thought us headed for the Crystal City. In mine own defense, I was in point of fact still only five at the time, even though my size and wit let me pass for a filly closer to Lore Diver's own age.
"Such a pity!" I replied brightly, and Dissy coughed.
Lore Diver regarded me narrowly, obviously just this side of accusing us of making fun of him. But he was a good colt -- while I was a bad little filly, and had corrupted Dissy to be my partner in crime. And I was a foolish little filly too, for Lore Diver was the one on whom I counted to guide me to win my faring. Lucky I was that Lore Diver was truly a good colt, who treated me better than I deserved. But that would always be his way, and this would not be the last time he was to do me kindness unearned .
He is two dozen centuries in his grave, and sometimes I still miss him. We immortals, dear Twilight, travel in company with all too many beloved ghosts. There are too few with whom we can share more but a brief fraction of our long lives.
But I digress.
The Perils of Misclassification
Despite any misgivings resulting from my teasing, Lore Diver led Dissy and myself through the Children's Library to that section of the stacks dealing with Mythology. I suppose it was fortunate that this was the library of a civilization founded by university scholars, as this Children's Library was better-organized than many bearing that designation back in the Age of Wonders.
No, my dear friend, I will not right now discuss the details of the Library's classification system. It was not, of course, what you found when you searched for the details of their culture -- Sombra had deliberately scrambled the books in the public collection, to make it useless to any searching through it for any means of resistance. He had been a librarian, and so fully grasped how this would confound his foes. I knew he had done this; Tourmaline told me later. It was one of the many reasons I wished my Sister had let me lead that mission. I could guess in advance exactly the ways Crimson would try to thwart thy quest.
That thou didst win nay-the-less proved thy own courage and brilliance, but I still think my Sister was taking a dreadful risk with thee.
Well, yes, we would have intervened hadst thou lost, but -- Twilight -- thou dost not reckon fully of what evils my fallen friend was capable. Had he made thee captive -- Twilight, he was the one who drove me onto the path of madness, and I was free to leave at any time. All that was once bright and noble in his soul was twisted to dark foulness by the Night Shadows. He never got to speak with thee ... Twilight, thou hast met the mirror-Sombra. Know that our Crimson Quartz lost none of his charisma when he fell into darkness. He could be very persuasive. He warped me. He could have warped thee as well, or at least done thy mind and soul great damage, more rapidly than thou dost realize.
He would have liked nothing better. Thou wert mine own Sister's student; thou art brilliant, beautiful and good; a master-mage, surpassing loyal, a librarian -- thou mightest as well be the Lady Tourmaline reborn, though thou art not in truth. He would have delighted in twisting thee to his service. I came so close to losing ... When I consider how unlikely it is that he is truly dead ... but we stray far from our goal, now.
Some Readings in Mythology
In the Mythology section, Lore Diver found us several books on ancient legends, and upon being assured that they were acceptable abandoned us to their perusal.
I delved into them, and grumbled at the simplistic presentations. "These are children's books," I complained, "like the ones Windy used to teach us reading."
"Oh, they're not that simple," Dissy assured me. "More like what you'd give a third- or fourth-year student in one of their ludi litterati."
"What!" I almost shouted, at the last moment remembering that I was in a library. "Does he think me a child?"
"Yes," replied Dissy. "Look around. This part of the library is obviously for children."
I did, and regarded the colorful wall paintings, and the clearly immature ages of the patrons, with the only adults present being the section librarian, and some obviously accompanying their offspring. Only then did I realize the full indignity to which I was being subjected.
"We are wasting our time!" I exclaimed. "What can we find in here? With whom does he think he is dealing?"
"Two children," Dissy answered. "Which he is. Oh," he added hastily, perhaps seeing the fire in my eyes, "he greatly underestimates our intellects. But then we are pretending to be ordinary Ponies -- well," he said, looking down at his own strangeness, and the lumps of my wings which had flared in angry passion, "as ordinary as we can pretend to be. In any case," he continued in a soothing tone, "we would do well to page through these books. There may be something useful in them. I have a good feeling about this. Besides," he grinned, "this might be fun."
I was far from entirely convinced, but Dissy had made me happier with the situation. It was hard to remain wroth with anyone or anything when Dissy smiled at me that special way. So I began reading the books.
Even then, both of us could read very rapidly. The reading levels of these books were low, and we were looking for certain key words and phrases, though we still enjoyed the tales. So it is not entirely unsuprising that exactly what we were looking for jumped right out at us from the pages. As luck would have it, 'twas I who found the crucial tale.
And this is what the story said:
"Honey Tongue, The Sun Mare and the Twister"
Long, long ago, during the Age of Creation when the Gods and Goddesses walked the Earth like Ponies, there was a very loveable and clever mare called Honey Tongue. Her voice was sweet and her words sweeter, and there were few who could listen to her without doing exactly what she wanted. She was yellow and her mane pink, and her Mark was of a tongue with honey dripping from its tip.
"Golden," said Dissy, staring at the page with fascination, his mind somewhere very far away from our reading table.
"What's golden?" I asked him.
"She should be golden-yellow-brown, like honey," my companion said. "Then her coat would be like her name. It would fit better. And she'd be more beautiful, with that long pink mane flowing out over the gold."
"Gold isn't the only pretty color," I said in irritation, looking at my own powder-blue coat. (It was lighter then than it is now, dear friend, much as it was when I was new-freed from the Nightmare). "And who wants a long pink mane?"
"Celly has a long pink mane," Dissy observed, smiling.
"Indeed," I replied crossly, as if that made the point. "We should keep reading."
So we did.
Honey Tongue could have been a very bad Pony with her Talent, but instead she was a very good Pony, so she only ever used her powers of persasion to make her own life and those of her family and friends and village better. She lived in a dangerous time, when brigands and tyrants, warlocks and witches, monsters and demons, and even evil gods, lurked around every corner, so her loved ones were very glad of her indeed. And she loved every Pony in her village.
Though there was one whom she loved more than the others.
His name was Noble Heart, and he was good and true, a warrior of high birth from whose family the village held their land. He was a strong stallion and a fearless fighter, but he was also very kind and honorable, and he never took advantage of his birth nor his riches to oppress the villagers, instead acting as their strong shield against any who would try to harm them. The villagers loved him, and he loved them, but most of all he loved Honey Tongue.
"Wow ..." I said.
"You'd like to meet somepony like Noble Heart?" Dissy asked me.
"I'd like to be somepony like Noble Heart!" I told him. And I still do. I try my best, and I like to think I sometimes succeed. A little.
Though I have, from time to time, met Ponies like Noble Heart. If I am lucky, they become my friends -- for their time on Earth, anyway.
Do I know anypony like Noble Heart? Well, some of my Guards are. And your elder brother. And Applejack's elder brother.
Though I think that last one fears me. I sometimes have that effect on Ponies. I do not know why. Which is a shame. I would he were my friend.
I do not bite, not hard, not any more. I wish more Ponies knew that.
The family of Noble Heart also liked Honey Tongue, but she had been born alone to a poor mare, and though by her own hard work and sweet words Honey Tongue had earned silver and copper to ease her mother's life, still Honey was neither wealthy nor of high birth like her beloved. So Honey and Noble were sometimes sad, for they could not wed, as Noble would not marry against the wishes of his mother. And his mother, too, was sad. For though Noble Heart could not wed Honey against his mother's wishes, neither could he bring himself to wed another, when still he loved Honey Tongue.
Thou sighest, too, dear friend? Dost thou wish thou didst know a stallion such as Noble Heart? Dost thou know one of his merits?
Oh, a blush does look so pretty through lavender. And such a blush, too! Didst blushes glow in truth, we might light the room by its radiance!
But back to the tale:
Noble Heart's mother, Noble Rose, very much wanted him to marry into a good family. She wanted to be friends with another family and she wanted grandfoals by him, who might tumble and play about her when she called her clan together for the High Festivals.
Yes, dear friend, matrilineage and matrilocality. And of the oldest sort: all these Ponies lived at least two thousand years Before The Megan; perhaps as much as four thousand years before. You may tell the fair Apple that the ways of her clan are very old ways indeed, though interrupted by the bilocality of the Time of Extermination. They were Earth Ponies, too -- both in the Crystal Empire and in the Age of Creation, that would have been assumed unless stated otherwise.
This fairy tale spoke of events from eight to ten thousand years before our present day, and five and a half to seven and a half thousand years before the time in which Dissy and I read it. Compared to the time of Honey Tongue and Noble Heart, that last autumn of Paradise Estate was one in time with today: indeed, when Paradise Estate began, the story would have spoken of times as long-ago to the Ponies of Dream Valley as Paradise Estate is to you and your band.
The world is very old, and many secrets have been dropped and lost in the long dim corridors of time. And here, Dissy and I had found one that had survived, thanks to the scholar-soldiers who had founded the Crystal City: Ponies who loved learning, and wielded pens with the same skill as they did spears. And the story survives in my memory, and is passed down to you eight thousand years and more after the events which inspired it. Such is the power of lore.
So Noble Heart's mother did a vain and prideful thing. At the Great Midsummer Festival, held once every four years, to which came all the highest Ponies in the land, she boasted of the virtues of her son, hoping to fill the hearts of her listeners with the desire for him; all while poor Noble Heart had no choice but to listen, in growing embarrassment. She did not only mention them herself, but she also hired harpists to sing songs in his praises, and poets to declaim his merits. Finally, she made a great speech before multitude, and swore on the honor of her house that all this were true, and moreover said:
"My son Noble Heart is wonderful, glorious beyond compare, more handsome and brave and good even than any in the service of the immortal Gods!"
Now she had done a foolish thing, for one should never compare oneself, nor any one does love, favorably with the Gods. For they can themselves be vain, and prideful. What is worse, they may be listening.
Indeed, no sooner had she finished speaking, than a white-maned gray Unicorn stallion, clad in a gaudy patchwork cloak, stepped forward.
"You've sold me on the merchandise!" he loudly cried, a merry look upon his face. "I'll take one!"
At these rude words the multitude murmured, and Noble Rose glared down from her podium with displeasure.
"My son is not to be bartered for like some fruit in the marketplace," she said sternly. "Who art thou, and of what lineage?" For she had never seen this Unicorn before, and misliked his looks and manners.
"As to who I am," quoth the Unicorn, still smiling, though there was a flash as of fire from his red, red eyes, "I am one of the highest lineage, a lineage older than this little ball of rock on which we stand." And he doffed the cloak. Now they could see his Mark plain, and it was like unto a tornado. And some there were who remembered certain dark tales, and drew back in fear from their memory.
But Noble Rose, in her pride and wrath, did not remember the tales. If she had, she might have known that this was One who might at times be turned from a fell purpose by fair words. So she did not speak fair words, but in stead:
"Bah! I know thee not! Depart, worthless knave! Thou shalt not have the service of my son for any price!
At this, the Unicorn scowled, and it was as if the thunder-clouds had descended on the pasture, ready to unleash a great storm.
"Price?" he asked. "Oh no, my proud little mare, you much misunderstand me." And he flexed all his muscles, and began to swell, and grow most terribly. "I said nothing about paying any price for your son." As he grew his shape began to shift, growing longer, like unto that of a great serpent or Dragon. His forelegs changed: one was like that of a great cat, another like a vulture; and so did his hind legs, one being like that of a normal Pony, but the other that of a Dragon. His head was still mostly Pony, but his horn split to become two, one of a Deer and one of a Goat. He was several times the length of a Pony, terrifyingly mismatched, truly a Monster.
At that we stopped reading, and looked at one another in a horrified mutual realization.
"Dissy ..." I said, at last. "That's you."
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Discord does seem to fit quite well in a tale of mortal hubris.
Part of me is frustrated by the lengthy asides and wandering voice. Part of me enjoys how this feels like an actual conversation. I clearly don't know what I want from this part of the story. Don't take this as criticism, since is about as unhelpful as criticism could get. "Keep doing what you're doing, only in a totally different manner."
In any case, definitely looking forward to Dissy's reaction and what follows thereafter.
5429975
I've been thinking that I'm going to have to summarize part of the Tale for the sake of brevity, and considering posting the full and uninterrupted story as a One Shot. Perhaps with a framing device of Twilight Sparkle having transcribed it, because it is a myth -- it's based on something that actually happened around 8500 years BP, but it's not a totally-accurate recollection. Do you think that's a good idea?
5429975
I know, I'm too much in love with my world and the characters. Particularly young Luna and Dissy, who are cute.
Nothing in the author's note.
5430205
They are indeed. ^^
5430201
At this point it may be. Don't get me wrong, this is a gripping story. It's just not the one we came here for.
Hooray, an update! So, the remaining Eldren, save the Moochick, fled to other planes and planets? So, the "Reflections" comic arc is indeed canon here. Dun dun dun!
He should be remembered as the great being he was, not reduced to just some stock character in plays and stories for small children. How would you feel, Twilight, if we were viewed that way?
Point.
I just want to say I LOVE the style of writing here!
The tail bow is the signature of the G1 ponies to be sure.
in an utterly cheerful way that was actually not that different from her normal demeanor.
Firefly is not that concerned about her 'image' as RD is to be sure.
Yeah, history does get distorted as time goes on. But the idea that EVERYONE in history is a liar is rather bias.
Ironic with Shady since she was one of the repeat ponies!
, that I might have actually hurt her by running away.
About time you stupid brat.
which are two things rarely seen in one and the same Pony.
Prejudice.
In mine own defense, I was in point of fact still only five at the time,
She's freakin' five and she made this journey? UGH!
It's interesting when you stop and think about it.
G1 is remembered as the source of it all.
G3 is HATED for being for little children it was aimed at.
G4 is the 'new and improved' over being JUST a toy commercial.
But G2's CD-Rom game has pretty much been forgotten with time along with countless other games that have come and gone over the years.
And MLPTs . . . is simply forgotten. It's not as much FUN to hate as G3 because it's a simple slice of life story world that doesn't try to be overly sugary.
I just made me think of here.
Pinkie Pie at least remember the lost world, and Paradise seeks to help ponies along to achieve an ideal world again some day.
Luna and Celly remember the G1 heroes.
. . . But who remembers Starlight and her friends? I guess that was kinda the point of Bon Bon's journal in my story.
No, my dear friend, I will not right now discuss the details of the Library's classification system.
THANK GOODNESS!!!!! And yes that is so Twilight!
When I consider how unlikely it is that he is truly dead
"These are children's books,"
You're a child dummy. Of course I didn't realize it at first either.
ludi litterati
???
I do not bite, not hard, not any more. I wish more Ponies knew that.
Luna, you call yourself a monster and then are sad other ponies see you as such?
matrilineage and matrilocality
????
Poor Dissy.
5431197
Meant both seriously (from Luna's POV) and doubly-funny in context -- Luna knows that she has been so reduced in the popular imaginings of Nightmare Moon, and she may or may not have been thinking about the knowledge her Cosmic Self has that their whole Universe is a second-order reality springing from an elaborate toy commercial (Luna really doesn't like to think about that sort of thing).
I love the tail bows. They are literally the flirtiest things mares could wear, given that the Ponies are semi-nudists and that mares flirt with tail motions. For Wind Whistler, that particular color and style reminds her of a present given to her by her (long-dead) first love, and is thus special to her. Even the thought-form she creates in Discord's mind wears it.
Firefly's lived a lot longer and seen worse things (three cataclysms!) than has Rainbow Dash. When she was 15, the odds were against her living 35 more years, let alone 3500. It take a lot to seriously upset her.
Did I say everyone's a liar? The main problems are source bias (which can exist even when a source is trying to be honest, because of limited knowledge (for instance, the Romans knew little of climatology and hence of the chilling of Eurasia from the 3rd-6th centuries AD which had bad effects on Classical civilization) -- and distorted transmission of information. Beings like Celestia and Luna can see this directly.
For instance, Luna Selena Nyx never knew the Moochick, but she knew Ponies who knew the Moochick. To her many of the events of 6000 years ago are like the events of the 1920's to 1950's are to me, in that I wasn't alive then, but had long conversations with people who were. The events of 2500 years ago to the present (with a big gap from 1004 to 4 years ago, when she was mad and in exile) are like the events of the 1960's through the present are to me. She has direct memories of cities now over a thousand years gone from the Earth, including cravings for their cuisine and opinions as to their conversational styles and clothing fashions -- little things like that -- the same way that I remember the vanished culture of the Bronx in the 1960's - 1970's.
Shady was shy of strangers. She was essentially a "background pony" to the few sages and traders permitted to call at Paradise Estate over the centuries, the ones who told the stories which were used as source-material for that painting.
Fluttershy reminds Discord of Shady. That's one of the reasons he likes her. The other obviously-similar Paradise Estate Pony to Fluttershy whom he knew well, Posey, was another Pony he particularly-liked.
Oh, indeed. Luna today isn't the world's most sensitive Pony -- in canon she's sometimes rude to the Mane Six, whom she mostly likes, and in my fanon she can be scary and mean to Twilight at times, and she loves Twilight. At five she was much worse. And as a foal, as I pointed out in an earlier chapter, she sometimes bit Mimic while nursing from her!
There are reasons she's the less popular of the two Sisters, not entirely connected to prejudice against the night time. She's a good Pony, but she can be obnoxious as well. For instance, her whole quest has so far caused inconvenience and actual pain to Dissy, which she realizes now but didn't even consider back then.
(*nods*)
At this time in history, very few Pegasi are citizens of the Crystal Empire. The population consists mostly of (Crystal) Earth Pony lower and middle classes, and a minority of (Crystal) Unicorn Ponies making up the gentry and aristocracy. Pegasi are known mostly as mercenaries who are hired as auxiliary troops for the armies of the Empire. Some are feared, some liked, but in general their background isn't intellectual, and the Crystal Empire (due to its origins in the survivors of a University faculty and students from the Age of Wonders) tend to look down on uneducated Ponies. Note: the Empire is quite military, and respects soldiers, but its ideal are scholar-noble soldiers, such as the current Imperator, Golden Mark. The Pegasi are seen as barbarians, albeit usually- friendly barbarians.
Wind Whistler very much violates their expectations because she is a Pegasus and essentially the ideal scholar-soldier, being both very erudite and intelligent; and very deadly in battle. After living over 3500 years, she's not at all awkward any more, and impresses the Imperials as very civilized. For her part she fundamentally-approves of the Empire, as the center of civilization on this continent; she wants to see it grow and extend its influence all over the Northlands, while the power of Equestria and Lith grow over the central and southern parts of North Amareica respectively, eventually forming a strong and wealthy continental civilization, a good basis for the rediscovery of Industrial civilization. She's been guiding history toward this end for a while now.
Unfortunately for her, Discord is going to make chocolate rain all over that particular parade.
Well ...
in terms of sheer size, she's closer to a Pony of around 10-14, like the Cutie Mark Crusaders. And she's super-intelligent and incredibly well educated for a five-year-old. She's also super-strong and extremely hard to kill -- she'll regenerate from almost any injury, given a moment's respite. And she has lots of magic that even a talented Unicorn normally wouldn't develop until adulthood.
But she is immature. Which I think I've shown more than once in this tale-within-a-tale.
Both of them (Lulu and Dissy) are -- that's why they ran laughing from a Dragon which was earnestly trying to kill them. And found the warlocks who were trying to render them down for spell components funny. Think "Smurfs chased by Gargamel who is then eliminated by a Terminator" (to add Wind Whistler into the picture). They look on this whole quest as one huge hilarious lark.
Dissy is already the size and strength of a grown stallion, and even more magically-powerful and harder to kill than is Lulu. And is totally loyal to Luna, and essentially willing to fight any foe to protect her. In fact, this is what Dissy (who is one year older than Luna) conceives of his role in this as being -- Lulu's loyal Companion, like a knight from one of the adventure tales they enjoy. They're basically two super-powered little kids having an adventure together, while Wind Whistler and others frantically try to find them before something malevolent does first.
I liked the episodes of it that I watched. The main criticism I hear of it, that they're in a high-tech civilization and that the girls like boys -- so? Why can't Ponies have a high-technology civilization? (For that matter, the G4 civilization is high-tech by 19th-century standards, and the G3 civilization was implicitly higher-tech than it looked like at a casual glance). And as for the romantic themes -- why not? Where do we imagine foals ultimately come from?
Seriously, Twilight could have started a conversation there that would still have been going on when Discord came back, if Luna had let her. Luna, with her eidetic memory coupled with the fact that she's been to that Library many times over a period of 1500 years, could not only discuss the classification system but describe how it changed over centuries as the culture of the Crystal Empire evolved. She might be willing to do this, just to be nice to Twilight, on some other occasion.
Luna knows that one of the things Crimson Quartz had accomplished was to use enchanted crystals to replicate the logic gates of integrated circuitry, and one thing he was trying to accomplish was to copy and store souls on them. She thinks it's very likely that backups of Crimson have survived, and will eventually be activated. In my fanon, the Alicorn Amulet was one such backup, and it came close to overwriting Trixie's own personality -- if she'd worn it much longer, she might have at best been a ghost trapped in her own brain.
Luna's been living her fantasy of high adventure. It's a shock for her to realize that others can see she's a pre-adolescent child.
Literally "festival/games of learning," referred to the Classical Roman equivalent of elementary school. From Wikipedia "Education in Ancient Rome."
Luna very much wants Twilight to see her as not-a-monster. At the same time, Luna half-thinks she is a monster, and wants to warn Twilight of this because she's honest. My Luna is a bit messed up -- she hasn't fully recovered from what happened to her in the 6th century YOH, followed by a thousand years as an insane exile. Twilight behaves very nicely and with great understanding towards her, which is also true in canon -- though with less romantic motivations. Both the canon and my fanon Twilight Sparkles like Luna a lot.
Twiight deduced from that portion of the fairy tale that it describes a culture which is matrilineal (one counts descent in the female line) and matrilocal (males move in with their wives' families), which is similar to traditional Earth Pony culture but not current Unicorn or Pegasus culture. Luna confirmed her deductions. She might also have deduced matriarchy, but she pretty much takes that for granted, as Equestria is matriarchal in general.
Note that Noble Rose is the head of Noble Heart's family: her grown son needs her permission to marry. Note also that Noble Rose assumes that marrying Noble Heart off will generate an alliance and that Noble Heart will go to live with his wife's family, which is why Rose will only get to see Heart's children (her own grand-children) at Festivals (when the two families will meet and mingle). Twilight Sparkle, both as a scholar and as a member of the Canterlot gentry, is very sensitive to social clues of this sort.
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Yeah. Poor Dissy has just been confronted with a record of one of his earlier Avatars. One not so nice as he is at this point in time.
And I'm glad you liked my style
neeeext?
But Luna's return was 1 year ago, according to the show
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I choose to assume that the very public and grand version of the Summer Sun Celebration that Celestia nearly does in the Season One opener and does in the Season Four opener is an "Equestriad" -- the equivalent of a Greek "Olympiad," which occurs once every four years. Note that it coincides with the Equestria Games.
My main reason for assuming such a long chronology is that an absurd lot of things, including major national crises, happen for that to be just one year. Indeed, it's a hellish four years even in my count.
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Ooh, I like that. I've been tracking in real-time as well, so Princess Twilight Sparkle has to be four years after Friendship is Magic. The idea that it's not actually every year... well, wait, did they say the 1000th Summer Sun Celebration? That might not work... must think about this.
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Oh, I think they have a Summer Sun Celebration every year. Just that every four years is an "Equestriad" -- the special deluxe Summer Sun Celebration.
next? :3
This fanfic still rocks!!!!!!! I want to see it reach its ENDING!!!! It doesn't deserve to go UNFINISHED!
watching teaser clips for the new ep. (5/15) it seems that your description of Discord's residence is pretty close:
starts @ ~
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