The Incredible Storyloom

by Gothic Dreams

Prologue

The city of Oxerford was a real sight to behold. Although not as impressive as Canterlot, this city was home to some truly magnificent buildings, many of them adorned with spectacular carvings. Such intricate masonry displayed a wide variety of flora and fauna. Stone ivy and other crawling plants formed curling patterns along the structures and within these curls resided the most incredible menagerie. There was one grand building in particular that managed to exemplify this imagery even further. That was the Royal Museum of Oxerford. Many creatures known to live in Equestria dwelled within the stonework, alongside more unusual forms of life that, as far as anyone knew, could have only existed within the realms of the imagination. A cow whose entire hind quarter was the tail of a fish, a dog-like beast with two bodies branching off from its bulky head, a snake crowned with the crest of a cockerel and an animal that somewhat resembled a lion but had barbs protruding from its back and a shaggy mane surrounding a face unlike any animal anyone has ever known. These strange creatures, existing among those more familiar, were said to represent what the museum stood for; a reverence to all that has been discovered and all that is yet to be discovered.

This was just a part of the vision of those Ponies who built this city – certainly the most beautiful part of it – and it completely dwarfed the little foals of Ponyville.

Cheerilee, the mulberry mare who was the foals’ teacher and supervisor for this school trip, stood aside for a moment and simply smiled, appreciating the children’s need to take in the amazement they were stricken by.

‘Okay class, now come along.’ Cheerilee called out to the foals, ‘I’ll need to make sure everypony’s present before we can start with our tour.’

Once Cheerilee made her rounds for the group, she led them in through the doorway. Although they were at a grand scale – more than twice the height of Cheerilee – the doors themselves were rather sombre in design compared to the rest of the exterior. The detailing of the doors was a far cry from the elaborate craftsmanship shown on the supporting pillars and outside walls. However, such a comparatively mundane element to the building’s design was easily glossed over as the foals didn’t seem to lose any sense of wonder as they walked in.

It seemed there was hardly any room not used to display artefacts of historic splendour. Like any good museum, each room – or series of rooms – was dedicated to a certain subject, categorised by time period, location, technology, cultural background or even some of these subjects, if not all of them, combined. The foals certainly had a feast for the eyes that day, one of such a diverse repertoire too. Exhibits ranged from history on the remnants of ancient Sumarean culture to the early years Equestria’s founding, from early agriculture to the founding of modern medicine, from the nomadic lifestyle of old tribes to the creation of the steam engine.

Kids being kids – or rather, foals being foals – Cheerilee faced some difficulty keeping them all in one place as they excitedly rushed from one room to the next, trying to in everything they could see all at once. There was however, one curiosity that succeeded in arresting the attention of every foal. It was in a large circular room that connected to three tall corridors, each one of them providing displays of old machinery from almost a century ago. The foals were capable enough to figure out that they were all about the first mills and factories of that time – relics from an industrial age – though it was more difficult for them to figure out exactly what they might have been needed for. The machine that stood just about central in the circular room, however, was impossible to figure out altogether.

The machine in question had a console – the control panel – that looked something like a market stall built around an over-sized typewriter, it’s keys were slightly inconsistent with each other in size. Beneath the console were two large pedals, to one side a bizarre looking canister fastened to the machine by its edge. Behind the keyboard was a chamber covered by a large grid, a seemingly random assortment of springs – stretched from top to bottom of the chamber’s space – could be seen through the grid’s squares. Out of the back of the chamber, was a large exhaust valve. The piping for the machine’s exhaust was awkward in its own right, turning to different directions and angles, the end of it pointing towards the wall rather than the ceiling. On the opposite side to the canister was a strange, frail looking tower, which was connected to the rest of machine via a few thick, curly wires. Like the main console, the tower had a canister fastened to one side of it as well. However, it was slightly larger and had a nozzle coming out of the top. Both canisters hung at about knee-level. You could look inside the tower too, through a porthole big enough to put your whole face against it when peeking through. Inside the tower was a small stool, which didn’t seem entirely stable to sit on, though it didn’t seem to matter when in such a confined space. Certainly not when it was locked shut. Precariously over the stool hung an odd cylinder and bowl that hung like a ceiling lamp. Smaller cylinders were stuck around it, all of them with wires that went all the way to the tower’s cramped ceiling. On the very top of this tower were two large funnels that faced opposite directions to each other in a fashion similar to a siren. Every other machine, or piece of one, in this area of the museum at least had some semblance as to what they were used for. The design on this thing however made little to no suggestion as to what function it could have possibly had.

Cheerilee could clearly see that all the foals were interested but at the same time confused as to what they were looking at. Many of them turned to her. The look on their faces gave them no need to ask aloud. In response, she simply gave that endearing smile she often had whenever there was a vital lesson to impart or a story to tell.

‘Alright, my little Ponies, I can see you are all very interested in this machine. But first, can any of you tell me what you think it might have been used for?’ The confusion among the foals only became even more apparent. They thought she was going to tell them! Still, some of them decided to hazard a guess.

‘Did it predict the weather?’

‘A giant typewriter…?’

‘…Can it read Ponies’ minds?’

‘A time machine!’

‘Is it from a cloud factory?’

They were all pretty certain their answer was never right the moment they shouted them out but Cheerilee just maintained her smile, ‘Those are all interesting ideas… but what this machine was actually made to do was make books.’ The little foal who called out typewriter turned to his friend beside him with a little smirk as if to say; ‘told you so!’

A white red-mane filly, named Twist, was a little confused by this and spoke up. ‘But Miss Cheerilee, I thought those machines we saw in the other room, the printing presses, were for making books. So is this one even older than the others?’

‘Why yes, Twist.’ Cheerilee’s voice was filled with praise, ‘Those printing presses were used to make books. However, this machine was actually made after them and not only that but this did more than just print books. This machine actually wrote stories from scratch so nopony else had to. It’s called a Storyloom.’

‘I never seen or heard of a machine that actually wrote books before’, mused Scootaloo, an orange, purple-haired Pegasus. She suddenly beamed as an idea entered her mind, ‘Does it still work?’

‘I’m sorry children, but you mustn’t touch it. This machine is strictly off limits.’ Although Scootaloo was the one who spoke out, Cheerilee directed this to the whole group. ‘This machine is the only one of its kind that exists to this day. There weren’t that many others like it before and it was said very few ever looked exactly the same. Unlike every other machine you see in these rooms that were assembled in a factory by several Ponies at once, the Storylooms were all made by one Pony who worked on them in his own home.’

Another filly named Apple Bloom, a friend of Scootaloo, walked up front to Cheerilee, ‘So who was this one Pony who built these machines. What happened to the rest of them?’

‘It is a long story but I’ll be happy to tell you if you all would like me to…’ The foals nodded patiently, something of a rarity to occur among all of them. ‘Well then, settle down children and get comfortable,’ Cheerilee gestured towards the benches that were near the edges of the room. Once they all managed to find a place to sit down, Cheerilee stood as central as she could and began to speak clear enough for all of them to hear. ‘This all started in the city of Birminghoof, where lived a young mare. Her name was Rosy Bliss…’