That's all he wrote

by Rarity Belle

One last epilogue

The sun hadn’t revealed itself over the hills just yet. Not yet had its warm rays come over to thaw the frozen lands of Equestria from winter’s grasp. It mattered not much to many ponies. The vast majority was still peacefully asleep and dreaming the dreams both given and made. Yet there was one place where activity brew like no other. Somewhere along the outskirts of the quiet, quaint town of Ponyville had light emerged from within a home. Somepony had awoken early in the morning. Whatever need drove them to leave the bed so early, to walk the frozen earth before daybreak? It was a question that any pony could ask. A question to which no simple answer was possible.

In the two storey building could a stallion’s shadow be seen moving around and about. Neither haste nor stress washed over it as it went. Instead it carried an unusual calm. The shadow didn’t seem irritated or annoyed that it had woken up so early. The pale blue magical aura engulfed the presumed living room of the building for a moment. Though that light faded just as quick and mysterious as it came. The candles hadn’t been powerful enough to flood the entire building with light. What they did create however. was a strange but charming atmosphere.

Within the walls of the living room he wandered. The stallion who belonged in that very same house. With a gentle trot he made way to the kitchen. Tunes from songs that belonged to the sea left his mouth in a faint whisper, a haunting melody lying underneath. The aura appeared again, revealing that the stallion was in fact a unicorn. A blond coated, light brownish maned stallion stood there. His magic opened one of the kitchen cabinets with care, not wanting to make the hinges creak.

Moments later came a single slice of bread out of it. A slice which made its way to his mouth. The stallion seemed to prepare himself for another day on the road. Despite his rather chubby appearance, he moved around in silence with every step made. A feat which even surprised him to that very day.

The magical aura vanished once the slice was devoured by three massive bites. There was little else that managed to spark his interest in the kitchen. He turned around and as he did, a loud yawn left from his mouth. The hooves then brought him then to the stairs. After a quiet inhale he went up. He lost himself in thought with every step made and was brought back by another. That, or he hadn't properly woken up yet.

There was a single room upstairs that he wanted to visit perhaps one last time before leaving. Something that had always been dear to him. Something that could be considered his entire life.

Yet when he walked past the light of the hall, the bags underneath his sapphire blue eyes became visible. Either he hadn’t had any sleep last night alone, or he was a terrible sleeper in general. Not that the stallion gave much thought about his appearance. He just continued on to a shut door to his left. A silver hoof was laid atop of the knob and turned it.

With a gentle, soft click was the door opened. The creaking of the aged wood was almost magical and music to his ears. The stallion smiled at it and then slipped through the opening, leaving the door open. In the last bits of light from the hallway, his cutie mark was revealed. A quill, and a piece of parchment to write on. From the walls within the room, a gentle exhale of relief could then be heard.

~~~~

The stallion sat down in a chair. He gave his eyes the time to have a good gander around the room. A room that almost felt surreal to be in. His magical aura flared into existence once more with a gentle nod. The arcane energy proceeded to ignite the candles present. While the light of the flames managed to take a hold, it drove away the light from his horn. The magic soon faded whole and the candles took over. It was a strange harmony that brought everything together in a silent symphony. Finally, there was a good look at the stallion himself, and the room he found himself in.

He looked like every other stallion that lived in Ponyville, albeit a bit on the chubby side. He was just an average pony doing mostly average things. But the room he sat in, that was the true treasure. The sapphire blue eyes glanced at everything once more. It couldn’t be described as a trophy room of some sort. A ‘collection room’ was more fitting for it. Items from ages gone by were set on display with pride. Collections of toys filled most of the shelves. Though most importantly, the giant bookshelf that occupied the wall next to the window.

His eyes had another look at the whole thing. The stallion smiled at the sight of it. It was a thing he had worked to for years. In the light of the candles, the spines could be read clear. Each book had a different title and coloured spine, but there was one thing that remained the same across them all. Each of them was labelled with: I. ‘R.B.’ Sapphire. All books, written by the very same author.

The stallion chuckled to himself and let out another content exhale. “This is what all those years of work came and result to, Inkwell,” the stallion spoke aloud. His eyes had one last look at the novels written, then deemed it was time to take his leave. To leave the room and house and be going before the first ray of sun would hit. To see whatever the day brought to him.

He stood up from the chair, looking still pretty young. His eyes betrayed a wisdom of ages old, and a hint of healthy madness. He left the room for what it was, keeping the door open only slight. The light in the room faded when his magic came in once more. Every step he took caused the house to be reclaimed by the darkness of night.

Inkwell went back to the hallway and down the stairs, only to have a look out the window of his front door. His promise of being gone before dawn had shattered. The sun was crawling up already on the horizon. “Dammit, I’m gonna be late if I don’t start to move now., the stallion muttered to himself. Not that it mattered too much. With the help of his magic, he reached for his purple top hat from the hat stand. It was placed atop his head with grace and a sigh of familiarity. The magic ceased again and the lid of the hat found a hold against the horn.

~~~~

The front door was opened, letting in the cold of winter in to his home. A shiver went down his spine. But the warmth of the sun soon would engulf him too. One last sigh left through his nostrils. The eyes had a look to the horizon with a glance of hope and wonder.

“Some ponies just say that, when you need to quit, you should quit. Others tell you to just stubbornly keep going until you find something that works for you. But what if you can’t have, or maybe can’t do neither? Where do you go from there? What future is there to be experienced within? Life, every life, is divided by chapters. Some are long, others are over in a whim.”

He took the first step to the world outside, letting his silver hooves crunch the snow underneath them. One of the upsides of being his body type, cold wouldn’t get to the stallion that fast. A fact that Inkwell loved about it.

“But every chapter, must come to an end. Every book, has to end eventually. But even with a written ending, it never means that it is the definite end of things. Funny thing, imagination is. But how long do you want to make your chapters? Do you let them continue long enough? Or over extend? That’s the question that has been bothering me for such a long time now...”

Inkwell shut the door of his home and began to walk. He would still be talking to himself, as if there were other ponies listening to him. Phantoms that joined him on his walk, figures of imagination that he could only see. In reality was he just speaking to himself.

“Most just leave without a single word, never to be heard or seen from again. But, that’s not my style. I like to depart with things on a good note. And this, seems like a very good one to me. The Book of Life takes many strange turns and counts countless chapters throughout it.”

His gaze shifted back to his house, to the room that held all of his most prized belongings. Yet in the rising sun, he could see the top of the bookshelf peeking through. His eyes softened, remembering the ears of vivid and eager work spend on each.

“All chapters must come to an end, one way or the other. And I’ve decided that this is going to be the end for this one. I close one chapter of my life, only to open another one. One, that will be just as amazing as the previous.”

A chuckle came from his mouth. His gaze shifted back to the rising sun. Inkwell felt the warmth and cold clash against one another. A battle of who would stay and remain emerged, toying with his feelings for a bit. It placed him in doubt, as he had been so many times before.

In the end had the warmth won, vanquishing the coldness of night and winter.

“With these words, I end the chapter of writing fictions for fans, and begin the one for myself.”

Inkwell Sapphire just stood there, gazing at the rising sun while the world passed by. The warmth comforting him like a mother’s arm. All the feelings of doubt washed away. He had made the right decision for himself, though a single tear still went down his cheek. Life would go on and he would do what he loved most, just a bit different than others were used from him.

“We mustn’t forget the road we took to come somewhere, but never dwell too long in the past of things either. The future may break the chains of imagination, and invites one and all to try ideas. Just because things do come to an end, it never means they are over. They will never be forgotten, as long as they are always remembered.”

And that, was all he wrote.

Comments

[Randomfastreader]

the end quote/saying is so perfect...

[Jarvy Jared]

This has been something I've wondered for quite some time, now: how to transition from fanfiction to fiction properly. A broad look reveals that there really isn't a method for it; you just do it and hope along the way that you know what you're doing. (Of course, this discounts situations where the opposite happens: where you write fiction first before suddenly falling into a fandom and thinking "Hey! I can write here, too!")

I'd imagine that the transition isn't a sudden leap but more of a gradual turn. Attention changes its focus and its reason. You begin to look wider, broader, perhaps seeing more than just the quaint little world of fanfiction writing. If you're religious or spiritual, you might consider it a call to a higher and greater responsibility; if you're a cynic, you may consider it a sign of maturity. The transition nonetheless happens, I think, because inevitably, we want to do something different. Perhaps fanfiction was the open door, and now we stand in a long hallway of doors, ready to embark on the next great adventure.

Does saying goodbye mean permanently never meeting each other again? I don't think so. As one door closes, one other must open; you keep moving.

This may be your last fanfic but it is hardly your last story, is it?

[Kevin Lee]

[Rarity Belle]

8004831 Quite so, it's not a quote but the perfect ending to the tale and this chapter.

8004842 That's pretty much how I did it. I just had an idea that wasn't really fit for a fanfic and the more I wrote on it, the greater of a thing it became. There really isn't any way to tell how to make the transition, other than to keep the knowledge that you have gained and use it to good effect. (True, true, there are always exceptions on the rules, but I think that for most it's they grow out of fanfiction and start to write original stuff.)

That is pretty much how it happened for me. Been asking myself the question for over a year at this point and tried a couple of things. Only to realise that fanfiction is completely drained at this point for me. Way back in the beginning, there were all these ideas that I could use and did use, but as time went one, I felt I was restricted by what I wanted to write about. There were barriers that my mind had set up, which I couldn't cross... But yeah, it's never a sudden thing, it takes its time. And everything changes, whether we like it or not.

Fanfiction for me was the door that had to be opened, to come in that long hallway I'm standing in now, and I wouldn't trade in the time spent on it for anything else. Saying goodbye is never an end. Not always. As long as the memory is kept alive, so can everything else. It's a philosophy I live by. We got to keep moving, but mustn't forget either.

My last fanfic indeed, but I've only just peeked my head in the insanity of stories that I can write. Except a whole lot more from me, just not here anymore. Writing has become a part of me, tucking it away would be a waste of that awesome skill.

8005084 Quite so.

8008162 Saying no farewell is a good way to leave. Just, be gone like the wind in one moment to the next. No grand going-away party, just a mere whisper in the end. It's not something I can hold against you, as you keep any potential damage at bay. But I'm glad that you agree with my views and, am I'm ever thankful for the part that you played in it up to this point. I'm rather certain that you'll keep popping up in it, hehehe.

0-o Do you now, Aggy? I feel honored by that one! (Yes, you'll always be known as Agate to me)

[Randomfastreader]

8008840 none the less it gets the job done...

[Rarity Belle]

8009710 That it most certainly does.

[Jerrrry]

goodbye good luck and thanks for the hours of entertainment

[Rarity Belle]

8403673 It's been an honour, pleasure and privilege. And hopefully we'll meet one another in another tale.

[EverfreePony]

Paradox is, this is the first story I have ever read from you. However, it's beautiful, a poetic summary of your work and a good bye with head held high I'm sure that I'll go down to the journey of past and read some of your older stories as well, something tells me they'll be great

Enjoy your next chapters, may your quill never run out of ink and imagination out of ideas.

[Rarity Belle]

8408396 Well, that's quite the paradox indeed. But I'm glad that you enjoyed it. Here's just to hoping that when you travel the road of the past, you'll be able to see past all the spelling and grammatical errors (of which there are quite a bit...), but I can assure you that the tales they hold, are something to behold.

My quill will never run out of ink! That's one guarantee that I can give you. It's just finding the time to write everything.

[EverfreePony]

8408977
Well, as long as there aren't errors waiting on every corner, I believe they can't conceal the grand stories behind.

Glad to hear that, good luck, whatever will you be writing!

[Rarity Belle]

8408988 I...won't be making any promises on that, hehehe.

And much appreciated!