Boast Busters
My dreamscape was as empty as ever, painting the mental horizons white and beyond the infinity. Yet, filling the background was a serenade of classical orchestra, ripe with tunes fit to entertain royalty. And entertain royalty it did.
Princess Luna sipped on dream-summoned tea, the grace alone making the awkward tea talk appear professional, and set the teacup on the elegant table between us. “We art aware of thy bizarre and unnaturally realistic dreams, but thou never ceased to surprise us.”
“Mhmm.” I nodded, and a weight shifted along with my head as it clung tighter, rubbing its fur against my shaggy mane.
Cuddling atop my head was a dark green ball of fluff with four hooves. A short tail wagged side to side like a puppy’s, and a mane, neatly brushed to one side, cutely framed clover-colored eyes. On her flank in bold font was a question mark.1
The filly flicked her mane, and blinked with half-lidded eyes at Luna. “Sup bae.”
“...Salutations to thee as well.” Luna’s eyes dryly slid from the filly to me before sipping. “And who pray tell is this filly?”
“Anon,” I said. “Not her actual name but it's basically her alias.”
Anon snorted. “And you better damn well remember that!”
“Please excuse her language.”
The filly snarled, tightened her grip around my head and drilled a hoof into my skull, directly on my scar. “Well excuuuuse me, princess! I’ll abuse my right to free speech as I please!”
Luna stared past the cup's ridge she pecked at the scuffling, the snarling, and the IRL shitposting. She was nonplussed. “...Charmed. Although we’ve yet to encounter a pony in thy dreamscape, ‘tis a pleasant surprise. She’s quite realistic.”
I groaned. Of course a /mlp/ meme would be real to a cartoon horse. “Maybe too real.”
“Oh? Well, fuck you and your niggerfaggot ass!" Anon Filly bonked my skull with the hard part of her hoof. "Think you're some god?!”
“Actually," I said, "I have God Mode on, so yeah.”
Anon scrambled around my head like a cat on a yarn ball until she sat on my neck and roughly stretched my face on either side. “You know what my point is!”
True to my words, nothing hurt, but I slurred as I spoke through tight cheeks. “As you can see, she’s got a bit of a mean streak,” I mumbled. “Still cute though.”
“Who are you calling cute?!”
“Y’know. The usual crazy.”
“...I see.” Luna turned to the side and stared. There, the door that acted as the entrance to the Second Level of my dreamscape chattered from the chains and locks in an ethereal glow. A slight noise of dubstep also managed to pierce through the bindings. It's literally the only other thing to look at besides our table, our tea, and our selves without being awkward.
...Maybe I should decorate my dreamscape or something. Give it some fluff.
I sighed, leveling a stare at the chained door alongside Luna. “How’s your recovery going along?”
Luna returned a sidelong glance, and then back at the door. “Our magic is returning speedily enough. We hoped to slowly resume responsibilities while recovering, but our help was...unnecessary.”
“It’s only been over two weeks.”
“And it’s been over a thousand years. Our night held the gaze of Equestria in astronomy, magic, and the mythical Beasts of Constellations. We were absent to encourage such activities. Under Celestia’s guiding hoof, they need not to ask for ours.” Luna sighed and, for a moment, she was normal. “We know that I—we found redemption, but we feel like a spare mare to fill an empty room. It’s ours, yet we feel it’s for a happier pony from a thousand years ago.”
My lips tightened. “You still have lingering regrets?” I asked.
“Yay. Tell us, friend, dost thou believe in destiny?”
I stared into my teacup. If it were real, neglect would’ve turned it cold. The imaginary tea was pitch black, shrouding the ceramic like a hole into a bottomless abyss. In it, my vague reflection frowned back. “Frankly, I don’t. It never mattered to me.”
“And why is that?”
I chuckled humorlessly, and the Anon persona clasped around my neck felt heavier. “I like to think myself as a supporter of free will.”
“As do we.” Luna let out a heavy breath. “But there was once a prophecy. It foretold of our return, of the thousandth year of the thousandth night, as if we were destined amnesty on that very moon. Yet...do we deserve such a happy ending? A part of us wonder if it's all a dream, if that night truly ended the way it did.”
“...Bleak." I muttered. "But at least you know that you are real,” I blinked nervously, “You are real, right?”
“Dost thou still confuse us for an illusion?”
Anon clicked her tongue. “Tch! Quit with the existentialism. It’s as real as you want it to be, so what’s the big fucking deal?”
Princess Luna looked at Anon, bearing a wide-eyed stare. I awkwardly watched, frozen as she contemplated in silence. After a minute, Luna’s smile broke the ice. “Perhaps we are worried for nothing.”
“Just take it easy,” I said. “You just got back from the moon, so enjoy your freedom.”
“Well, at least as much freedom as our sister allows.”
“Wait.” My brows furrowed. “You mean you’re not supposed to be dreamwalking right now?”
Turquoise eyes narrowed and Luna re-donned the overwhelming royal presence, I knew. She leaned forward, fore hooves thudding against the table as she towered over me. “Not a word of this, thou understand? We art already in dire straits against boredom as is.”
I nodded, lips straight. “As you wish, Hime-ojou-sama.”
Luna adapted well to my mannerism and lingo, for she nodded back without batting a lash. “Hmmph. Good. If anypony asks, just say that thou met the mare of thy dreams.”
"...excuse me?"
Color shimmered behind Luna like an eye into the cosmos as she stood up. “We must be going. Apologies for cutting this short, but we wish to hone our ability to traverse the Dream Realm tonight.” When she faced the exit, the eye snapped awake to reveal the beautiful swirls and blues of the Dream Realm. A hoof in, she paused. “But one more thing. When you said you don’t believe in destiny, is it because you don’t have…”
I blinked when she trailed off. “Hm?”
“...Nevermind. Until then.”
“Yeah. Later.”
“Praise to moonbutt, you mean!” Anon Filly hollered, and she clung to my muzzle in rogue fervor, the scruff of her chin pressing against my nose. Forced to bow down, I grumbled indignantly. “Get that head down, ya Lunafag! Bow to the Mighty Night Mistress-Empress-Goddess!”
Luna’s melodious laughter pierced the dream. “We personally wouldn’t mind.”
Seemlessly, she shimmered into the portal and faded off as though she too was just a dream; Gone without a trace. I was alone now. An empty seat and a meme on my muzzle kept me company. I huffed a sigh through Anon's chest fluff, who made noise, yet the nuisance still clung.
Filly Anon snickered. “She ditched your pedophiliac ass.”
“Don’t make me boop you.”
She scrunched. “Oh yeah? Do it, faget! I fucking dare you!”
I did. And she shrieked in adorable pony noises.
Revisiting Lessons: Chapter 7
Season 1. Ep 6.
Boast Busters
I blinked away the salt in my eyes. Twilight’s room glowed orange, courtesy of Celestia’s lazily rising sun. In a few minute though, the sun will reach its default peak to signify the full start of the day.
Blankets wrapped around me as I sat straight with a blank look toward my two roommates by the edge of my bed, who stared back with an energy and expectancy. I frowned. “This is too early in the morning.”
“A few days ago, Pinkie mentioned you believe in a deity,” Twilight said smiling. She smartly raised a clipboard and quill that sparkled of purple. “If I am to learn the ways of friendship, I must begin to understand the thoughts and beliefs of those close to me, and that includes your religious beliefs concerning this ‘Lord Kek.'"
I squinted. “I...never thought you’re the type to be interested in religion.”
“Even myths and legends have a scientific explanation. This is no different. Today, errands are done, schedule’s cleared up—I am free.” Twilight tapped her clipboard. “Let’s do this.”
I had been building up the inside joke ever since coming to Ponyville. So far, with my reputation, I only told it to Pinkie. It’s slow going, but I knew, if it sets off, it would one day be glorious. But still… “Yeah, um, the sun raised seconds ago. Can we talk about Kekism2 later?”
“Please?” Twilight puckered her lips with glistening eyes. “For me and knowledge itself?”
All the cutest fanart that the fandom had to offer flashed my mind's eye. The nostalgia was too much! I gulped, and tore my eyes away. “Spike?”
“Sorry, but I wanna hear this, too.” The dragon chuckled on the stool he sat, his own quill and clipboard in his claws. “We hardly know anything about you.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. May as well get this over with. “Fine.”
“A culture unknown to Equestrian knowledge! Oh, how exciting!” Twilight energetically clopped her hooves. “It’s rare for any pony nowadays to worship any sort of deity, or to find written scriptures not burned for heresy.” She cleared her throat, and readied her quill. “To begin: What is this Kek?”
Spike interjected, “And why sound so evil? Primordial darkness and laughter and stuff?”
I wet my lips. “Well, uh, Kek is by no means worshipped for his...benevolence, but more of his whims. He knows the true selves of all sapient kind. He laughs at he sees. What we see. At our truths, the chaos, and harmony we pursue. That sort of thing.”
Twilight paused her quill. “‘We?’”
The nostalgia hit me, and I felt the words seeping out. “Kekistan: A nation built off of his name to acknowledge his influence over us, literally or figuratively.” Lips twitched when I recited the line from memory. “...And it was home.”
“Your home?” Twilight tapped her chin in thought. “I never heard of such a nation. It’s not on the Equestrian map, and neither in the map of the known world.” And she blinked, looking at me in a new light. “You...came a long way.”
I’d be surprised if she did find Kekistan. It’s a fictional nation from another world. “I told you I traveled, haven’t I?”
“But not from that far!” Twilight glanced at her clipboard. “Let’s see, what’s next on the checklist? Oh! Does Kekism believe in creationism of sorts? Most, if not all, recorded religions and occults exemplify that.”
“Creationism, huh?”
I glanced out the balcony window. Already, ponies frolicked, busied with themselves to what they call “a life”. When I imagined this world into existence to seek my own meaning of friendship, one could say I was the god who gave Faust’s creation form. It’s a copy of the original but with me inserted and randomized lore to fill in what canon left out.
Mortal as I was, I’m bound by the laws of this world. But could I really justify calling the world more than an illusion of my imagination from that alone? Could anything gained here be considered genuine? Who’s to say that this version of Equestria wasn’t made with my own biases in mind? Unique only to me, and only me—that’s what Death explained.
After all, it’s a cartoon.
“We place our faith on numbers,” I finally said. “Our wisdom and knowledge is intricately tied to whatever numerical value Lord Kek gives. Kekism teaches us that to rely solely on known truths will limit us. Or worse, lie to us. So we became skeptics, created radical ideas—memes—and to justify our imagination, we used...special logic. It gave birth to Esoteric Kekism’s meme magic.”
Twilight gasped, and feverishly wrote down that particular detail. “As in mathematics and magical science?! Like scientists?! Incredible! Spike, are you writing this down, too?” When no answer came she stopped writing and turned. “Spike?”
Spike was slumped on his stool, lightly snoring as his chest rose and fell from each breath. His clipboard bridged his lap to my bed. The dragon lurched forward, and suddenly jerked back into reality, writing instruments snapping back to attention. ”Hwuh?! Wha!? Awake! I’m awake!”
“Spike!” Twilight said sternly, “You’re missing the interesting parts!”
“I’m sorry! It’s just that Tori’s voice is just so monotonous!” Spike chuckled nervously. “No offense, dude.”
“None taken.”
Twilight sighed, setting down the items in her magical hold. “I suppose it is too early. We can continue this later. Haven’t ate anyways.”
“Say no more! Spike the Chef is on the case!” The dragon giddily hopped off the stool and skittered down the stair before exiting the room and to the kitchen.
Twilight shook her head mirthfully at the door with a slight smile. “Later on, Spike and I will have magic practice again. Want to join?”
“Nah,” I declined. "Sales are happening, and that meant opportunity.”
Twilight nodded and crossed the door. Finally, I was alone, but along with the silence, I had a lot to think about.
The sugar economy was an unstoppable force in Ponyville. The town was small enough for ponies to know each other, had short distances across local bakeries, and a long history for sweets. Coupled with social and emotional value, sugar was practically currency for these pastel-colored ponies. It took sweet and color into a whole new meaning this world.
I stood behind a market stand. On it was a box of candy, filled with luxurious marbles of white and navy blue swirls, and a count of five bits. I sweep over the bits, and pushed the box to Cheerilee, who salivated even with her mouth closed. She swiftly left with the box, a giddy spring in her step. Happy sugars.
I slumped where I stood and exhaustion rode upon my sigh. Ponies frolicked past, paying little mind to the stallion in fedora, shades, and a hobo's scarf. It’s utterly amazing how no pony could recognize me with my disguise. To say that blue pegasi were common was an understatement. Ponyville’s weather team was half blue besides Rainbow Dash. With the customers focused more on the goods, I was essentially invisible.
Movement shuffled beside me, and I gave a glance.
The mare's cream-colored coat ruffled with the scent of chocolate, mint, and taffy, almost golden under the sun. A curly pink and dark blue mane bounced over a bright smile as Bon Bon spoke, "The sale is officially over. Good job!”
I relaxed.
Out of all the employers I had, Bon Bon had the biggest backbone. Not to say she was without fear, but rather more tolerant. Where others would nervously shy away, she’d stand her ground and properly greet me. It would be a happy hope for me if I wasn’t aware of her backstory. Agent Sweetie Drops of the Anti-Monster Agency sure knew how to keep a cover. Whether she’s aware of it or not, she’s showing that she’s made of sterner stuff.
It’s almost sad that I could only interact normally with the bizarre, eccentric ponies. Honestly.
Bon Bon swiped off the sweat on her brow. “Phew! I got my work cut out for me today. Hehe!” She gave a stilted smile. “Here’s your payment.”
“...It’s a box of candy.”
“It’s the limited edition I saved just for you! A sweet deal, am I right? Eh? Eh?”
I blankly stared. “But not bits?”
Bon Bon’s smile dropped. “Uh…”
A pair of clopping hooves caught our ears. A white-coated mare donning a nurse’s hat over her soft, pink mane—Nurse Redheart—came out from behind the candy stall. She smiled at my employer. “I’ve already collected the donations. You can clear up as normal. Again, thank you, Bon Bon for donating to Ponyville Hospital. We appreciate your generosity.” She trotted away, a huge bag of bits on her back.
Sights locked on to the jiggling cash protruding out the sack, I slowly, slowly, with a creaking neck, turned to Bon Bon.
“...well, u-umm," Bon Bon sheepishly smiled. "Whoops?”
The candy box in my hooves felt too light for all the work I've don all afternoon. I wasn't mad. I should be mad. But with these pastel-colored ponies, arguing wasn't worth the extra effort. I sighed and began to leave. . “Nevermind. I’ll just be going.” At the very least, I could sell the special candy for a profit if I played it smart.
“W-wait!” Bon Bon shouted, and I stopped. “W-would you be interested in another request?” She paused. “Don’t worry, it’s something simple.”
“...as long as it pays.”
“I’ll throw in another box.”
This girl... Deep breaths. In. Out. I faced her with blank eyes. “What’s my task?”
Lyra Heartstrings: A minty green mare with an even lighter minty green mane, eyes as golden as her cutie mark of a lyre, and roommate to Bon Bon. Her first appearance was in the Season One premiere, waving to Twilight in Canterlot and then throughout. If I were to guess, Lyra went to Ponyville for the Summer Sun Celebration and stayed upon hitting it off with Bon Bon, who went deep undercover to—spoilers—hide from a bugbear.
At least, that’s my headcanon.
But there I was, standing in front of their house.
Supposedly, Bon Bon had some extra business for me to take care of, and that this delivery was something that couldn’t wait. And that’s where I came in. I shifted my saddlebags, making sure that the package was there.
I had been standing there for a few minutes, unsure how to proceed. Very rarely do I make direct deliveries such as this. If I had it my way, I’d just leave it in the mailbox or front porch, knock, and run off before anyone saw me. It’s certainly better than the alternative, where reactions were... extreme. However, Bon Bon’s instructions were very specific—Lyra must obtain it as soon as possible, not rotting in the mailbox, and I wasn’t one to break what little trust I had.
I sighed. Maybe I should’ve refused, but to regret now would be a waste of time. I at least had my hobo disguise on.
I hit the door. “Hello?”
The reaction was pleasantly quick. I heard clopping hooves from behind the door, so I took out the package, ready to present.
But when the hoof noises were at its nearest, there was a hushed shriek, and noises fumbled from behind the door. Then, nothing.
I frowned and knocked again. “Hellooo? Ms. Heartstrings, are you in? I have a delivery from Ms. Bon Bon! Hello?” I now knew she was inside, so I was hoping to pressure her into coming out.
I swayed my wings as though they were human arms, waiting. I would look at the time if I could, but there was no instrument for me to use. Then, my ears flickered to a squeak of a wooden window slamming open, gasping and rapid hoofsteps.
I turned just in time to see a mint green tail blur off and disappear behind a corner.
“Motherfucker.”
Confound these over-reactive ponies. They drive me to exhaustion.
I followed as best as could with my current running skills , but the cartoonish speed Lyra exhibited was impossible to contest. I scowled as I scanned the open park I found myself in, crowded with ponies enjoying themselves to sweets they had from the sale. I’ve completely lost her.
It wouldn’t be hard for me to walk around and pick out the colorful pony, but I would scare other ponies off if I acted too suspicious. Disguise or not, a pony with shades looking around would attract attention, and they had another way to tell me apart besides my face.
I had no choice.
Sight, I closed my eyes, and focused. My ears straightened as I breathed to a disciplined calm. And then...music.
Harmonicas, violins, guitars, drums, saxophones, xylophones, and electronical sounds—an entire orchestra of families upon families of instruments combined to celebrate the casual, happy air of Ponyville. It was subtle, as it was inside the air itself, part of the world.
This world was an actualization of not just the cartoon, but also the entirety of the media, and that included the background music. Ever since my reincarnation, I was able to hear it. I’ve learned to tune it all out when I felt it unnecessary. It merely served to remind me how less than real the world was.
The way it was implemented, however, was very, very interesting. The sound of musical instruments, two or three unique to each pony, would trail behind individuals, playing a theme that matches the mood or pony itself, as if they are their own main character. Together with many ponies, it becomes an orchestra of Ponyville’s general mood.
And that was the lore to justify Daniel Ingram’s background score and musical numbers.
In a way, it was like perceiving the fourth wall for this universe. I wondered if the other ponies could hear it too, but I digress. To find Lyra, all I had to do was hear out for sounds out of tune with the rest.
There.
A beating lyre, rapidly plucked with anxiety and pursuit; Northeast. Casually, I trotted over to where I heard it, and caught Lyra tip-toeing out of the crowd. We both stared.
“Special delivery,” I said, presenting her package.
“Eeeeek!” she screamed with a start, jumping over a meter into the air before galloping off yelling.
I sighed, and walked after, but in a different direction. The shortcuts Pinkie Pie taught came in handy with this sort of thing. As long as I didn’t lose the music, the delivery will be made eventually. And so, the chase took us all over Ponyville.
From the Sofa and Quills store, Lyra saw me from around the corner.
“Special deliver—”
“Eeeeeek!”
To around the back of Sugarcube Corner, I was leaning against a wall, holding Lyra’s package just as she was about to pass by.
“Specia—”
“Eeeeek!”
To under a food stall of all things, I found Lyra curled up, and I peaked under along with the package, our muzzles mere inches apart.
“Will you let me do my fucking job?”
“Eeeeek!”
“...Fuck.”
And somehow, to in front of Sweet Apple Acres.
“Oh shit shit shit!”
“Eeeeeeeeek!”
Winona, the Apple Family’s dog, chased us out of the property barking.
In a narrow road that connected to closely built and tall houses, I stood in the middle at a spot where the only bit of light shined. Lyra skidded to a halt upon seeing, gasping with breath.
“...”
She turned tail and ran back the way she came. “Eeeeek!”
“Oh come on! I didn’t say anything!”
Until, finally, I was back to where I started. The same ponies, the same crowd—hardly much time had passed. I was breathing easily despite all the chasing. I had walked throughout the entire excursion, taking short cut after short cut to intercept Lyra.
Usually, I’d bait them into a corner or tire them out, but Bon Bon said to make the delivery as soon as possible. Whatever was up with my package, there was a time limit.
My sights found a bench. An epiphany came to me. Who said I needed to give the package directly? Lyra simple needed to obtain it.
I leisurely sat on the bench and listened. The plucking lyre was definitely close. Very close. I consciously avoided looking at the conveniently placed bush mere meters away. And the minty tail sticking out. I made a show to sigh, groan in tiredness, and look around. Moments passed before I stood up, my back to the brush, and walked off—leaving the package on the bench.
I flowed past a few groups of ponies to hide my figure from the bush’s view, and expertly circled around so that I was in the shadow of a tree near the bench, waiting. My patience paid off. Lyra crawled out of the bush with leaves stuck in her frazzled mane, her eyes set on the box I purposely left behind. Her curiosity drew her toward it. Checkmate.
She sat on the bench, of which I behold the sight of the famous human sitting position that spurned the headcanons of her human obsession.
Lyra groaned. “Uuuugh. Bon Bon told me to avoid ponies with fancy hats and sunglasses, but why am I trying so hard? Am I just being paranoid...?” Lyra then shook her head. “No way! A pony who’d chase me all over Ponyville is definitely suspicious. Now, just what’s this thing he’s been carrying—? Oh.”
The comical strings sounding and the look on Lyra’s face when saw her name on the package label was all worth it. Grinning, I nodded firmly to myself. Agent Hobo here: Mission accomplished. And so, I straightened my shades, quietly trotting away.
I was soon a long distance away, yet I had little reason to stop. It was rare for me to have time for myself besides chasing down mailboxes and ponies. But how should I spend the rest of my day? The happy orchestra that whispered through the air of the world answered.
A pair of foals ran down a street, a lunch box in one’s teeth. Their giggling guitars met the path of a suited stallion ringing a bell, advertising the sale the restaurant beside him was having as a cello matched his rhythm. Like connect the dots, my gaze trailed down the street to find the lively ponies going by their day in cheer despite a stallion with suspect attire creeping amongst them. It’s a side to Ponyville I rarely see. At least, when ponies noticed me.
Seeing how blissful bright Ponyville was on a sunny day, I held off on tuning out the background music. It’s the closest to a music player it could get. For now, I’ll enjoy this fantasy. With no destination, I walked with music to fill my ears, and the familiar memory of my death felt like it only happened yesterday.
“Tooooriiiii!”
I froze to a jaunty tune of kazoos and a piano. Pink blurred in my peripheral.
“Pinkie. No.”
The pink pony skid to a halt mid air and froze, poised for a hug tackle, before casually setting four hooves down as though she hadn’t just defied the laws of friction. She surprise glomped me anyways, the pony soft and squishy. “Surprise hug!” Pinkie pressed her cheeks into mine. “I’ve missed you!”
I sighed, just grateful that it wasn’t a full blown tackle this time. “It’s only been a day since I helped deliver your cupcakes to the schoolhouse,” I droned, to which Pinkie giggled at as though I was being humorous before letting me go.
“Sooo, how’s your day? I saw you walking by Sugarcube Corner, but you were gone before I said hello. You looked super duper focused though.” She leaned an ear my way. “Who were you chasing this time?”
The box of candy in my saddlebag shifted, including the second one that Bon Bon paid after the delivery. “...decent. Not like Roseluck’s, but Ms. Heartstring’s delivery was made.”
“Ooooh! That means you had an exciting day! You should tell me aaall about it later. Oh, but guess what, Tori! Guess what!” she said bouncing.
“What?” When Pinkie gazed with an expectant look instead of elaborating, I relented with a scratch of my neck. “Uh, another new pony?”
She grin, and my eyes widened. “Oh right! You can read my mind. Then I bet you also know she’s setting up a stage in the town square!”
A certain word splashed me in cold dawning. “Stage?”
“Yep! Come on! Let’s go and see!”
“Huh? Hey, what are you—” Pinkie strove past me, swiped my tail with her teeth, pulled and I was then under the mercy of her uncanny strength, dragged along the ground. “I can walk on my own, Pinkie! Pinkie?” She continued on despite my calls. “...ah, what the hell.”
I laid limp in defeat. The novelty wane, soon leaving me nonplussed, my hobo scarf accumulating dank earth as my body marked a snaking trail where Pinkie towed me.
Before I knew it, “Boast Busters”, the sixth episode of the first season, had occurred merely a two days after the previous. I was so caught in my job that I was left unawares.
The glamorous stage with a promise for a spectacle captured the forming crowd in Ponyville’s town square for today’s show. Pinkie and I were late to the party, but I was at least able to enjoy the remainder of episode as I intended.
But there’s just one problem...
“Just why the fuck am I on stage?”
“Give it to her, Tutorial!” Rainbow Dash shouted among the audience, a singe mark along her tail caused by a small thundercloud.
Beside her, Pinkie whooped with hooves waving. “Show everypony what you can do!”
I was the next challenger.
In front of me was the mare herself, Trixie Lulamoon. Illusionist, a fake magic user, a braggart...she’s all of those things, but she was first and foremost a showmare. And despite the glaring pretentiousness, she sure knew how to make a show. Brandishing a flamboyant starry cape, fluttering by artificial wind, and a pointy magician’s cap over her bluish-white mane and tail, the mare whose coat color matched mine gave off a pompous yet heroic air. Ignoring the egoism, the mare exuded the aura of a stereotypical wizard of the arcane.
An autistic bastard such as myself could at least respect such high levels of LARP.3
Soon after Pinkie and I arrived, it was just in time for Rarity to run home crying over her mane-turned-green and the color itself. I know a certain Anon Filly who would have something to say to that. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Twilight and Spike were also there.
Upon seeing me, Rainbow Dash had the bright idea to nominate me against Trixie. Pinkie Pie easily approved, and I was promptly dumped on the stage with little to no say.
And so, I just stood dumbly on the stage, shades and fedora askewed from the sudden influx of motion and my unimpressive scarf negating all sense of appeal. I held as flinching whenever I gazed anywhere near them. My reputation continued to proceed me.
“Oh my, the town’s clown has come to challenger. Trixie expected better,” Trixie jeered, vainly examining her hoof to disregard my existence. “So what shall you do? Dazzle us with your ability to fly?”
I shook my head. “No, um, I don’t do flying.”
“Wait, seriously?” Trixie broke character for a moment blinking before her arrogance resumed. “Hmph! Very well. Then display what other physical finesse you pegasi pride yourselves with.”
“Uh…does running count?”
Now Trixie wore an incredulous face, visibly disturbed. “Dance? Sing? Anything?”
“If I ever sing, you’d literally fall asleep.” I heard Spike chuckle sheepishly from the crowd.
“Then what are you good for?!”
I said nothing. Instead, I abruptly set my saddlebags down, startling the ponies out of the silence. I fumbled inside, minding the two candy boxes I earned today, and procured
three bottles of water. I downed them at a time.
I gulped, paused to breath, and brought the plastic to my lips again. A solid five minutes passed.
The ponies were whispering to each other, completely and utterly confused on what I was about to do before my last bottle hit the floor of the stage, silencing all. I finished not a single one. A quarter of water remained in each bottle, caps reapplied.
Trixie’s eye twitched. “...that’s it?”
Little did she know, the preparations were ready.
In slick fashion, I took a hoof and, one by one, flicked the water bottles across the air. For days, I had trained to maintain control of grabbing things with my hooves, and this was the result: In three seconds flat, an impressive tower formed upon the water bottles landing. After years out of practice, I still got it.
“Tada. Dab.” Wings flared for the dab, eyes closed.
Stunning. Suffocating. Silence. Someone in the audience coughed, and I then knew how bad the joke was. Even across an entire world, a meme years dead could still fall flat. Damn, I’m old.
“A-ahem!” The showmare stuttered from the blatant lack of talent. “A-a mere...party trick! And now it...has been beaten?”
Somehow, the crowd roared a deafening cheer.
I scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m a cuck. I’ll show myself out.” I trotted off the stage, and the girls and Spike surrounded me. They voiced their grievances under the noise.
Rainbow Dash floated over me. “Tutorial, what in the hay was that?!”
“Yeah!” Pinkie concurred. “I haven’t seen anything like it! I wanna try, too!”
“Ugh! Pinkie!”
“An old ritual of my people,” I said. They gave me a look. “What? Expected something else?”
“Oh, geez, I don’t know,” Rainbow rolled her eyes, “how about use your psychic powers!?”
“...this again? Do you really want to show her up that badly? It’s just a cartoo—” I blinked. “It’s just a show. Why so serious?”
Rainbow Dash snorted. “Show? I know shows. When I’m up there, wowing the crowd, I just need to make everypony feel good under my awesome! But this?” She pointed at Trixie, who preened at the vocal praises from two colts, Snips and Snails, as well as the crowd’s. “This is a straight up comedy to humiliate us.”
“I thought it was entertaining.”
“Entertainin’?!” Applejack exclaimed heatedly. “Ah got hogtied by mah own dang rope! How’s that entertainin’?!”
“Would love to see that, actually.”
“Ya know what?” Rainbow said. “The more I hang around with you, the more I realize how much of a jerk you are. ”
“Darn tootin’,” Applejack agreed.
“Hey, hey!” Spike jumped between me and the tomboys. “Girls! And guy. Tutorial’s wierd humor doesn’t matter right now! Trixie messed with our friends, and most of all, she messed with Rarity! We aren’t going to take this lying down.” He paced in front of us, like a sergeant to his soldiers. “We need some pony who can stand up to Trixie! Some pony with real magic, somepony who’s not afraid to defend her friends. We need—!”
I tapped his shoulder, interrupting him, and pointed. “Spike, you candidate is running away.”
“Wait, what? Twilight?” Spike turned just in time to see Twilight Sparkle gallop out of the crowd. He immediately chased after. “Twilight!”
Should I follow as well, or should I stick around and see what would occur off screen? As I watched Spike and Twilight disappear from view, the crowd got louder from another one of Trixie’s boasts. It did well to mute the conflicted feeling inside.
“Well, I thought the water bottle trick was neat!” Pinkie’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
For some reason, her words warmed me more than it should. I smiled anyways. “Thanks.” I smirked at AJ and RD. “At least some pony likes my show.”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Ya might fancy yer rodeo, sugarcube, but maybe ya should rethink what a show is all about.”
“...rethink, huh?” I looked at the stage, where Trixie boasted for all to see and hear. “Then maybe I’ll do just that.”
I was standing in front of the door that headed inside Trixie’s wagon, my disguise stuffed in my saddlebag. There was no need for it. Everyone one else left home for the evening. I also already waited for Snips and Snails to move on through their day. It was the perfect moment to knock on the door, to release a mere question lodged in my throat. I honestly wanted to avoid this, but something compelled me to do it anyways: I wanted answers for myself.
I sighed, letting the feeling possess me and rapped on the door.
The door slammed open, and for the magician’s next trick: a frazzled mane, a mare and her glare, practically naked without her magician’s attire. “What did Trixie just told you buffoons?! She said to wait until mornin—oh. You.”
“Sorry to bother you, but I’d like you to answer a few questions of mine.”
“Is that so?” She met my plain eyes irritatedly. “While Trixie likes to answer to any new admires, she’s afraid it’ll have to wait.”
“Just humor me.”
“Hmmph! And what’s in it for Trixie to make it worth her while?”
“Peanut Butter crackers.”
“...continue.”
It was now or never. “How do you do it?” I asked bluntly, “Be satisfied as a fake?”
“Fake?” Trixie scowled. “Is this about her feat in vanquishing the Ursa Major? I assure you, that is the truth. You dare doubt the Great and Powerful Trixie?”
“Not about the Ursa. About you as a unicorn, about your magic. The kind that’s not real.”
“What nerve! And what would you about know magic? Hmm?” Trixie challenged.
A familiar story: A larper in denial, desperately trying to hold the story that sheltered her ego and esteem. Maybe she had done this before. Maybe it was a one time thing. The confidence was backed by an illusion either way, and any trickster felt safe under nothing else. Fitting that I understood that all too well.
"Besides living in a library?" I smiled. “Nothing. Do you?"
"I..." No argument; no fighting back. Just three words, and the casual indifference killed the arrogance in Trixie's eyes. Up and down, Trixie searched for any speck of insincerity, only to be lost and confused. “You...what game are playing?"
"No game. I'm just here for answers."
"...you’re a strange one,” she concluded.
I shrugged. “Not the first to tell me that.”
“...Why I’m satisfied, was it? Fine. I'll." Trixie cleared her throat. "If it’s about happiness, then it’s simple. It’s my stage, and it’s my show to win. As long as my audience cheers in adoration of my splendor, what I say or do does not matter to the Great and Powerful Trixie. I’m acknowledged, they’re entertained, everypony wins.”
“So as long as you’re the winner of your own show, little else matters. How shallow.”
“And who are you to judge? You ponies were quite eager to prove me wrong!” Trixie snapped haughtily, before composing herself. “It may be fake, but I’ll show them real magic as they wish. If they’re happy to believe it for even a moment, then it must be worth something.”
Happy to believe it: That pulled a thread. In the two decades spent in the pony fandom, through conversation and reading numerous Human in Equestria fanfictions, I under stood what Equestria as a world meant to us. Many would agree it was certainly better than the real world, and that formed the brony dream. It was ultimately, a desire for the good things life and an excuse to create them.
I was also intimately aware of the counter arguments. Others proposed the dramatic premise of alienation, overreaction, fear, and xenophobia the ponies could exhibit, a grim respect to MLP: FiM’s societal implications. For a Human in Equestria fanfic, it's potentially a legacy of a true name and the name of a monster Such was the way of the man with two names.
Delusional happiness or cynical angst... What have I been doing?
“You’ll justify the worth of your fantasy with emotions?” I frowned thoughtfully. “Is that really all to it? Deciding it’s okay because...it makes you and everyone else feel good?”
“I wouldn’t be a stage magician if I didn’t care for my audience.” Trixie paused. “Save for a few neighsayers.”
I resisted a cold laugh. That hypocrite. “True.”
Leaning back into the darkness of her wagon, she waved me off. “If that is all, Trixie wishes to take her beauty sleep.”
Fine by me. I got what I wanted. “Yeah. Goodbye.” I nodded and turned to leave, shrugging the weight of my saddlebag.
“But first!” Trixie grinned, holding an expectant hoof out. “My compensation.”
“Oh, uh, that?” I chuckled shamelessly. “That was a lie.”
"...What." Trixie blinked. Then, she processed my words. “What?!” Her voice echoed across the empty Town Square, a shrill cry in the evening that startled a few distant ponies. “You made me talk for nothing?! Why you— Don’t you walk away! For bothering me, it’s fair that I have something in exchange! How about this? You pried in my business, I get to do the same!”
I sighed. Knowing her pride, she wouldn’t let this go. “Fine. What would you like to know?”
“Wha?” She blinked, not believing her ears.. “Just like that? But, that was just—just! Ugh! Nevermind! May as well! So. Question. Question, question…” She eyed me critically to find inspiration, seeking hints of scandelous secrets that I know I don’t have. But then her gaze settled on a spot where my saddlebags covered my flank. "Ah! Right. What's you're talent?”
Silence.
Trixie frowned. "I said—"
"I know what you said," I interrupted. "But why that?"
"You gave a horrendous show today. Now, Trixie doesn't know why you'd pretend to have no special talent under your name, but I want to know what you endangered my show for. So, I'll say it again: what is your talent?"
I stared for a moment. I could run off, beheading the deal without having to answer a damn thing. Not like Trixie would bother to give chase. But the look on her face if she saw it...that stopped. My wing fumbled along the strap of my saddlebag and Trixie leaned around to see as I, slowly, loosened the bag so that it parted away to reveal my flank.
Blank.
“If that’s the way you want to be, then fine!”
Spike slammed the door. The wrong door. That one was magically summoned by Twilight for the purpose of emphasis. He properly left Twilight’s study with a dry glare forwards. And that’s when he bumped into me at the stairway.
“What’s up, Spike?”
“Oh. You’re back. Need to take a walk. Be back soon.”
“Already? But—” Spike brisked past me. “Oh, uh, okay. Take care.” I watched his slumped back descend down to the main floor. I suppose it was fine. I had enough of today anyways. “...Walking, huh?” I mutter. Upon reaching at the top of the stairway, Twilight’s back welcomed me, her eyes finding forlorn interest in the oak floor. I hesitated to go on further but steeled myself. “Hey.”
She jumped. “T-Tutorial! Welcome back.”
I glanced around and saw the books abandoned to the side of a pedestal, one of them left open on it. She had planned for reading. In the time I knew her, stress reading was apparently a thing. “Hung up about what the others said?”
Twilight, bluntly faced with the issue, opened her mouth to retort but stopped. She sighed instead. “I don’t want them to hate me as they did Trixie. This town may be small but...they’re very forward on what they think.”
“Heh. You’re learning fast.” I strode inside the room, eyeing Spike’s basket and then a stack of books laid forgotten on Twilight’s bed. By the titles alone, they were about magic. They should’ve been in her stress reading pile. “Are you really fine with hiding what you love doing?”
“...yes.”
“How?”
“I can always study and practice in the basement.” Twilight looked away. “This isn’t new to me. I’ve always practiced alone, where I excel while others have to catch up…”
“That’s a miserable way to live.”
Twilight frowned at the books by the pedestal, ears aggressively splayed back, and hissed, “Are you here to lecture me?”
I scaled the small staircase lead to the guest bed and tapped the fluff of a pillow. “No. I’m here to go to sleep.” In great timing, the sun dropped from the horizons and a moonlit sky rapidly replaced it. “It’s your choice to hide in the closet, and I won’t stop you. Just don’t be too surprised when you lose sincerity in the process.”
Twilight’s ears straightened and she turned, suddenly intrigued. “You speak from experience?”
But my back was already turned as I climbed onto bed, saying nothing. I buried myself under the covers to hide from the light and my pillow followed, shuffling deeper.
“Tutorial?”
I breathed, feigning sleep to avoid Twilight’s question. I hoped darkness would envelop me so that I didn’t have to pretend. So I waited. Flickering paper sounded, and I knew Twilight had retreated to her books. The tick tock of the clock and methodological turning of pages stirred a hypnotic touch. I welcomed it. An hour squeezed by until the drowsiness finally arrived and my mind melted into my pillow. For a split moment, there was calm oblivion.
The bed shook and, to my disappointment, I was snapped into lucidoty.
“W-what was that?” Twilight uttered.
It seemed the episode was running its course. I didn’t worry.
The town screamed, the cries of a calamity barely penetrating the Golden Oak Library walls, and my sheets trembled to a rhythmic quaking of gigantic footsteps outside, growing louder...nearer.
I sleep.
Something slammed downstairs, footsteps echoed and the air cracked of a closing door.
“Heeeelp!”
Multiple voices pierced the air. One of them was Trixie’s. I shot up from bed with wide eyes.
Real shit.
Twilight was alarmed, already galloping down the stairs. Abandoning the bed sheet on the floor from my sudden awakening, I swiftly followed. Who I saw confirmed my fears.
Spike came back to call for Twilight’s help as expected, but shivering in the middle of the room, Snips, Snails, and Trixie huddled together in bloodcurdling fear. Last time I checked, though, this world had no concept of blood. And neither did Trixie and the colts came in such a way.
“Okay, what’s going on?!” Twilight shouted.
“Twilight! You gotta help us,” Spike stammered. “I-it’s coming!”
“What’s coming?!”
“An Ursa Major!” Trixie screeched and set her panicked gaze onto me. “Oh good! It’s you! Since you know so much about Ursa Majors, tell us how to get rid of one!”
At that moment, the entire library shook and everyone screamed. I snapped a glance through a window, and my throat lumped cold. There was fur of midnight pressed against the glass. The library creaked—groaned—and my eyes widened in realization.
“Everyone out of the library NOW!” I shouted.
My words spurned us to gallop out the exit in record time. In the madness, none of us bothered to look at the ginormous hind legs and belly that we ran under. However, the yelling from the mares and boys attracted the attention of the creature we wanted least to notice. The ursa pivoted, rotated a girth that seemed to embody the universe, and lumbered after us with a roar.
“It’s three seasons too fucking early for the tree to go!” I roared back. “Shiiiiiiiiit!”
Cartoon physic did its work, and I felt myself running faster.
“Twilight, do something!” Spike clung tightly to the librarian’s back, enduring the tumultuous ride. “You’re the only pony who can!”
“But I, I!” Twilight huffed and puffed, shaking her head wildly. “I don’t think I can!”
I clicked my tongue. “Well you better start believing! The Ursa Minor’s temper tantrum won’t solve itself!”
“Wait!” Trixie went bug-eyed. “That’s a minor?!” The rumbling behind us got louder, and she yelped. “He’s gaining on us!”
“I could try,” Twilight said, “but I need to calm him down! And I don’t know how!”
“Don’t you have a sleep spell?!” I shouted.
“I would, but I never got to it!”
“What?” My pupils dilated under the darkness. Despite the beat of my heart warming my blood in each passing stride, my spine chilled.
“It was number 25 on our list!” Spike supplied. “But we didn’t have the time and only got to 24!”
A rush of my memory about the episode confirmed it. The sleeping spell was near the bottom of their list . No. It just can’t be! Our talk over Kekism this morning took enough of their time to leave their magic practice unfinished?!
“Oh, what I’d do for Fluttershy to come out and help us!” Spike bemoaned. “But I don’t think even she could do anything for us!”
“Why not defeat the Ursa directly?!” Trixie argued. ”It’s better than running circles around it!”
“We can’t!” I retorted, “Mama bear will bring hell on our asses”
“What does donkeys have to do with it?!”
“Absolutely nothing!”
"Ooof!" Snails' cry pierced us like a needle to wool.
"Woahwoahwoah—gah!" Snips coughed, followed by thuds and slumping dirt.
I skidded to a stop, the others halting as well, and looked back. My heart pulsed. Snips and Snails were tangled in each other's hooves, and in their panic trying to push themselves back to their hooves, they tripped over each other and fell again. Behind them, the Ursa Minor marched as the world quaked at his every step, eye glowing with rage. The colts were about to be trampled.
"Snips! Snails!" Spike shouted. "What are you two doing?! Run!"
"W-we're trying!" Snails stammered.
“Ohnonono!” Twilight cried. “What are we going to do?! What are we going to do—?!"
I smacked her face with a wing. “Magic dammit!”
My mere presence had ultimately altered the outcome of this episode, and while Twilight would no doubt be able to overcome this, any more variations will render the future unrecognizable. I had to take responsibility.
Kek wills it.
"Trix for kids! On me!”
Trixie blinked. “Wait, are you talking about me—eeeek!” The mare squeaked when I ducked under her barrel and lifted her onto my back like a pony version of piggy back rides. Cartoon adrenaline worked it’s magic; she felt light. She flailed in hysteria. “Put me down put me down put me doooown!”
“Sorry, but it’s your problem, too!” And with a shrug of my wings to secure her on my back, I turned to main mare of this act. “Twilight, do you trust me?”
The firmness in Twilight’s expression said it all. Her horn lit up. “Of course.” Twilight tightened her eyes and widened her stance, horn illuminating the wide street like a star in a black canvas in an intense, lavender glow, blinding to even Spike’s eyes as he covered them with an arm. Scholar or solider, I still couldn’t tell, but I knew which to rely on at that moment. In a burst of light, they both disappeared...
"I don't want to be Ursa chow!" Snails cried as he and his friend finally set their hooves free, but the Ursa had already caught up with paws grazing their tails.
Snips hiccuped, snot trailing down his muzzle. "The is gotta be a bad dream, right? A bad dream!"
...but Twilight reappeared, Spike gasping into existence, and in the split second—before the colts ran past and the giant cub stomped on her—erected a barrier of magic that resembled a bubblegum bubble. Twilight lurched and hissed as the bubble shield squeezed from the pressure, so deceptively weak, yet, it held.
The Ursa, irritated by the obstacle, went on its hind legs to crush it with both paws.
"Uuuuurggh!" Twilight rasped as the Ursa's weight oppressed her mind. "Now!"
I took my cue to charge right in, Trixie clinging around my neck as she wailed into my ears.
“Are you out of your pony miiiiinds?!”
"If you know what's good you," I shouted back, "start your fucking disappearing act!"
Trixie whimpered under my harsh tone, and did what she was told, horn glittering and glittering under intense light, pulsing by every beat of my galloped. When I reached the Twilight's bubble-shield, I howled a battlecry and leapt—the magician screamed and her wand flashed.
The entire world went dark as we swam in smoke.
There was a crack under the Ursa's paws, and the shield shattered into motes of lights, dusted away by the thunder of Ursa Minor's landing fore paws and a quake. When the smoke cleared, the Ursa's eyes honed in on the remaining ponies left: Trixie, and I, brave her stead.
The stage was set.
I stretched and popped my wings and glared back, a bead of sweat trailing down my brow. My heart raced furiously, but my mind faster. In the corner of my eye, Snips and Snails watched on in awe at the standoff from an alley, a lavender glow emitting behind them; Twilight readied her spell. The only remaining condition for today's episodic resolution was a sleep spell... I already had an alternative in mind. So while Trixie shrieked in horror under the behemoth's gaze, I strutted up and pointed. “Attention Space Bear!” I bellowed. “I dub thee he who now would be Seth. NOW GO BACK TO FUCKING BED!”
'Seth' howled in defiance, entitled to his own sleeping habits, and lumbered toward me.
“Keep it up, Trixie! Keep screaming and we’ll be a decisive distraction!” I lauded Trixie with grim focus as the Ursa neared in surging earthquakes. “But looks like our audience wants an encore!”
“What?” A shadow casted over us. When Trixie looked up, she understood immediately. Growling, Seth’s intimidating girth blocked the moon, a paw big enough to crush Trixie’s wagon raised.
The magician’s wand instantly sparkled, and a smoke screen exploded and obscured our figures. The Seth’s paw came down with a resonating thud only to meet nothing. The smoke bulged and cleared as Trixie and I passed under his arm in the nick of time, then right under his belly.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Trixie exhaled in disbelief.
“Focus!”
Seth stomped down a hind leg, and I steered off course before we were squished under it. Trixie screamed from the close call. I saw the Ursa’s fur bristle. He couldn’t see us, but he could hear us. I dived to the side just as Seth’s other hind leg came to swipe across, and we slipped past a narrow opening. Trixie screamed again as Seth danced where he stood. Another paw descended over us before I immediately collapsed to the ground, Trixie whining pitifully as she joined, only to be completely silenced when the paw missed by a hair’s breath.
And then, motionlessness. Seth had expended all of his limbs and was left embarrassingly unbalanced. He began to tilt. I immediately pulled myself off the ground, swinging Trixie along my back, kicked off of the dirt and out from under his belly. The town quaked when the ursa landed.
The ursa flailed like a toddler on his back before rolling to his feet and howled so loud, ears split and the entire town vibrated.
Trixie whimpered. “That’s only making him angrier!”
“Really? Then I could do better!” I then shouted at the Ursa with wings cuffed like a megaphone around my muzzle, “Hey! Seth! If you want your waifu so badly, come and get her!”
Seth snapped toward my voice and bared terrifyingly pony-sized teeth in a snarl, eyes glinting across the dark. He didn’t chase with a crawl. He ran. I turned tail and sprinted with all I had to the boom of his every step.
“Oh my Celestia we are doomed!” Trixe cried as she wrapped both hooves around my neck and held tight. “Why did you have to make him more angry?! Just why?!”
“Angry makes waste!” I then shouted back to Seth once more, "FYI, you're waifu is shit!
Thudding. Crashing. Screaming. A tidal wave of horrific destruction echoed behind us and all of Ponyville. The wide street we ran on cracked, filling the air with the musk and dankness of dirt and dust. Seth wasn’t just angrier, he’s absolutely livid—such was the power of insulting one's waifu.
Facing forward, I neared a familiar alleyway. I felt a heavy thud before realizing the delay on the Ursa’s stride. He’s not completely on the ground anymore. “Smoke now!”
Trixie complied and smoke erupted around us, and in a single motion, we threw ourselves into the alley we were just about to pass. Air brushed our tails as Seth sailed, landed where we just were, and the street exploded in dust—Seth's belly slid and ripped across the street with a crack and a quake—and our coats caught the clouds of dirt and gravel and we coughed from debris and—
...And then stopped. Everything just stopped.
Trixie sobbed where she laid. “T-that—hck!—was insane! How are we still alive!?”
I scratched my shaggy mane as the rancorous itch returned with a vengeance. But I didn't stay laying. I grunted, stood up under shaking hooves, and marched with eyes closed into the moonlit mixture of magical smoke and cloudy debris.
“H-hey, you!" Trixie called. "Where are you going? ...Hello?”
Seth was groaning from the rough landing. But I ignored the obvious danger and bumped into his fur. Seth’s fur felt warm to the touch, hinted by the variation and bumps of heat—stars... Feeling a hoof along it, I made my way where I believed the head was. And then, I spoke in the most monotonous tone I could muster, loud enough so that I could be heard across the entire street.
“Water: A powerful agent that sustains all life as Equestria knows it. Said to be the only element that makes up all magical life save for the bones or exoskeleton, accounting for over 80% of the mana makeup of an average pony...”
The fur rumbled as I spoke. Seth was suddenly exhausted from the reckless stunt, but still brimmed of rage.
“...Metaphor Manifest is a termed used to describe how conceptual or abstract imagery could be actualized in reality through means of willpower in magic. Such is the basis of over 15,000 recorded spells of the practice in Canterlot’s archive and an estimated 20,000 more lost to time. Middle-class and high-class unicorns are capable of performing such spells, with low-class unicorns barring an exception based on their special talent...”
The rumbling faltered.
“...Starswirl’s First Law of Mana states that all conventional elements must return to harmony to maintain the balance of the mana realm. Action invokes a reaction. Second Law of Mana indicates the desire of unity in all mana particles of all types. Mental, physical, and spiritual magic fall victim under this law. Third law…”
Fact after fact, I droned and droned until, finally, I reached Seth’s head.
He was asleep.
My voice was boring to listen to that, in his tired state, he had effectively passed out. Before, the bear of the stars was the embodiment of wrathful cosmos, but now peaceful serenity surrounded him as a purple glow illuminated his form...and lifted him. There, I saw Twilight revealed at the other side of the Ursa's body, eyes closed in intense focus as layer upon layer of auras wrapped around her horn like a beacon of the night. I could only watch, admire, graze...or more appropriately, enjoy the show.
Music. The wind blew around Twilight to the play of a music box. The alluring melody bewitches a pinch of drowsiness across the atmosphere to dream the night away. There was no actual music box, not physically or by spell...but it was magic, enchanting.
Slowly, Twilight’s magic lifted him up—up above the buildings. He’s flipped to his back, rocked as though carried by a watchful mother, and folded into his grasp and bear muzzle was a water tower filled with milk; and improvised milk bottle. Carried off by an invisible wind, Seth floated to the east, peacefully receding past the town’s horizons.
I wryly smiled. “Should I be happy or pissed that it fucking worked?”
Twilight slumped, exhausted. "D-don't question it." A gasp. Another. "It happens to me, too."
The dust cleared up, and I took a gander around. The Ursa wasn’t the only one to have fallen to the spell of sleep. Doors were opened, windows swung out, and the ponies out of their homes to see for themselves the commotion were now snoozing on the ground, along their porches, and even the window sills. I winced. Scarily effective.
Then, the phantasmal orchestra—the source of the music box—stopped. There came a music of a different tune, more alive and awake.
Ponyville, however, stirred as those who didn't fall asleep came in droves. Waves of ponies brisked past me like I was invisible as their sole attention laid on Twilight, the star of today's show: The Vanquishing of the Ursa Minor. I didn't think much of it. After all, I was merely the appetizer before the big finish,
Twilight should be okay with explaining things, I decided. Everything will be alright. Twilight will show her stuff, clear the misunderstanding with her friends, and Ponyville will respect her a great deal more for helping the town. I would stick around to make sure, but any more of myself would disrupt it.
I snuck behind the growing crowd and back to the alley, only to find Trixie fast asleep, too. I reached a hoof over to wake her up, but stopped when she muttered something unintelligible...yet happily. I sighed. Breaking her out of her dreams felt...cruel.
Carefully, I hefted the show mare onto my back, letting the soft touch of wings keep her asleep as I secured her on my back once more, and stalked down the alleyway. I took a shortcut, heading to the library to sleep as I stared up Luna’s moon. As always, it was a beautiful night out.
“Sweet dreams, little ponies...”
1. Anon Filly - A 4chan /mlp/ meme that originally depicts an Anon who turns and age regresses into a filly, who finds himself reliving a childhood. This later spurs a great deal of fanart like so: 
2. Kekism - Essentially a Cult that celebrates the almighty and all powerful Pepe memes, or Kek, which falls in line with the internet nation, Kekistan. Shitposting evolved.
3. LARP - Live action role play, in case of those wondering.
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That would shut me up too.
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If I am to learn
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I assume basex on how you handled Gilda you're going to address the heckling ponies as well as Snips & Snails nearly getting ponies killed? Because I just hated how that episode ended in canon, with Trixie shoehorned into the antagonist position.
Hum, not sure if the the song that Tory hears might be OP for the sort of character he is of being nearly useless and unremarkable . I am guessing that when he started to learn about the Earth Pony magic it might have unlocked or at least get an understanding of it. what I am worrying about would be that he would use it to guess the mood of the pony he talks to all the time, which means that he would know who is lying to him or just hate him (not that I think he can make a clear distinction between the two ) and can zero in on any of them anywhere if he wants too. the idea is interesting, especially sense he can basically hear the background music making him feel that he is in his own episode. But it sort of goes against the ideas he is autistic if he has an extra edge on others to better read the mood of other people. On the other hand it could also fall in line with it, he could be sometime overwhelmed by all the different sources of music that creates a cacophony when he is trap in a large crowd and he can't deal with all the extra stimulus of one day he can't shut it off. I wonder if he could use it sort of like a pinky sense and would attract Twilight's attention as on him as well.
I wonder what are those 20,000 spell that have been forgotten? could the ponies have lost a large position of it because of the migration from their ancestral homes? of the old unicorn kingdom and had to start over again? Or could it be that most of the where nearly useless beyond very uses or where unique to specific ponies that couldn't be replicated by others as well?
I wonder how Tory is going to be roped into going to be in the dragonshy episode, maybe Twilight might invite him to go there or fearing what happened with the ursa he doesn't want to take any chances at all that things goes off scrip again and get the mane six killed. The question that I wonder is will he support Fluttershy because he knows what she is supposed to do or because he genuinely believes she can do it, and if he didn't know what is supposed to happen would he have do the same for her or act like the others and think that she is a liability for them? If he had bad experiences of being autistic he might have been left out from other groups because of the premise they though he couldn't follow the group with others because they his condition prevented him being responsible for himself and be a burden for the rest of them. I am talking from my personal experience as well.
This is really, really neat and one of those things I hope you will be giving more attention. It's something I would have drawn attention to if you hadn't already done it yourself: having made this world, Tutorial is effectively its God. He can never be quite sure if he actually made a world, or if it really just exists in relation and in reaction to him. Are ponies still there when he doesn't see them? Do they feel or think anything when he isn't there to reflect on it? Will they keep existing if he dies and moves on? He can't honestly know. His relationship to it is very conflicted: it's more than a dream, but less than truth.
And that's probably the most philosophical thing I've ever said about a fanfic.
You've been in the fandom for a while.
I couldn't stop laughing at this. It was just so stupid. What's next, the floss dance... or whatever it is the kids call it these days?
man, I'm only 25, and I feel old already.
Filly Anon's appearance here is pretty cute. Her being basically a 4chan poster meme turned into a pony makes her even more precocious than other fillies! Obviously, some won't find her vulgar mouth adorable, but I certainly do.
The idea of ponies actually having their own background music that Tori can hear is actually a really cool, nifty idea, and you should give yourself a pat on the back for it. And then a second pat on the back for having minty horse lead Tori on a chase before he could give Lyra her confectionery.
Since Tori's doubling down on his traveller jam and talking about Kekism as an actual religion...he had better hope Equestria stays fairly static in-universe. It wouldn't do if right after the end of what he knows as the last Season he saw that Equestria opens up to the outside world, and Twilight can't find hide nor hair of Kekism anywhere. But hey, that can wait for another day. He's still got multiple seasons to make it through.
Anyways...so the reveal is out. Tori is an adult Blank Flank. I wonder what the ramifications of that will be. Given his extraterrestrial origins, it does make some sense. It means he's free to find his own talent in this strange new world that he's been given a blank slate in. Of course, the flipside of that would be the disturbing implication that maybe he's consigned himself to more observing and less doing so much that he doesn't really consider himself to have a special talent.
I like how Tori puts the Ursa to sleep by talking it to sleep. So maybe that's his special talent, being boring and not notable at all! But it's also a reality check to him, that even the minor things he does truly can affect the timeline. No doubt he will have to think quick on his hooves again.
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I love your comments, it really adds and complements the chapters nicely.
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Why thanks! I much appreciate that. I used to comment fairly aggressively a few years ago on stories, especially the ones with lower amount of comments, so you'll probably find a smattering of them here and there if you're reading older fics now. I've become weirdly analytical of stuff in the past few years, too, which is why you'll find some of my comments are like that (alternating between those and then my more joking ones).