The Book that had Never Been Read

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 1

It was another fine day in Ponyville. The sun was shining through the light, perfectly engineered cloud cover to create an excellent spring day. With the Winter-Wrap up having passed weeks earlier, the temperature was far from cold, but also not hot. A slight Pegasus-manufactured breeze was blowing, carrying with it the smell of the numerous flower beds throughout Ponyville and, though its notes were far subtle and more distant, the earthy, strange scent of things decaying within the Everfree Forest.

The Ponyville school had just dismissed its students for the day, and its students had been allowed to make their way back to their respective homes though this placid and pastoral environment. Among them was a pale gray-violet unicorn who was one of the few who walked alone, watching the other students linger on the playground or go their separate ways off to do whatever business it was that seemed so pressing to them. Most of them took surprisingly predictable courses: Diamond Tiara leading Silver Spoon back to the formers home as if the latter were on a leash, or the so-called Cutie Mark Crusaders laughing as they ran off toward Sweet Apple Acres. Few if any among them chose to depart from the others easily, save for the young unicorn.

This was not a cause for concern for Dinky Hooves, nor did she recognize it as a problem. She was alone quite often, but it did not bother her. It gave her more time to think and to allow her thoughts to regroup before she redoubled her efforts on her studies without the bother of unnecessary distractions.

That was important every day, of course, but today it was especially so. Just a few hours before, the class had been assigned their first book report of the year. This had been met with groans from nearly everypony, save for Dinky- -who relished the idea of both reading, and then writing about reading- -and Scootaloo, who had been asleep at the time.

Because of this assignment, what would normally have been a neutral day was now a pleasant one for Dinky. She hummed a tune as she walked, and the numerous books stacked neatly into her saddlebags felt less heavy as she made her way to the Royal Library on the far side of Ponyville.

At one time, the Ponyville library had been constructed into the center of a hollow but still-living tree. Nobody knew exactly who had done that, or why they would desire such an esoteric dwelling and book repository, but Dinky had loved that building. Some of her earliest memories had been of reading in that library, and the joy the books had brought her.

It had, of course, been destroyed nearly a year before. The event was sad, but Dinky understood. War was war, and things often got destroyed. The library had been in time replaced, and with a better, modern one constructed in Twilight Sparkle’s royal palace. It was colder and often seemed so much emptier than Golden Oaks had been, but it was larger and had far more books. To Dinky, that made it far superior.

Entering it was not difficult. Twilight never bothered to lock her doors. Finding the library was trivial as well; even if Dinky had not spent every day after school there, locating it was simply a matter of following the strong odor of book.

As soon as Dinky entered the library, she paused for a moment, waiting for a spell of dizziness to pass. It in part came from her size: she was three years younger than the other students in her year, and small for her age. Everything in the world seemed so much bigger to her, especially such a grand library.

The other aspect, though, was more complex, and Dinky ruminated on it as she walked through the stacks. In that case, her disorientation came from the implication of having so many books in one place. There were so pages of text and so many stories, and so much written. Dinky felt herself surrounded by more words than she would ever be able to read, or that anypony at all would read.

Supposedly, Twilight Sparkle had read every book in the library, but Dinky was not sure she believed that. Nopony could read that many, or enjoy all of them. There would always be books left behind. Ones that no one wanted, or that no one remembered. Dinky found herself wondering what was in those strange, ghostlike books, and why no pony had bothered to read it.

A few students, it seemed, had had the same idea as Dinky. As she turned a corner in one of the convoluted stacks, Dinky very nearly ran headlong into gray bespectacled pony.

“Gah!” cried both Dinky and Silver Spoon at the same time, both surprised to see someone else so deep into the often abandoned territory of the distant rear stacks.

They both nearly fell over from the surprise, but then both laughed.

“Dinky!” laughed Silver Spoon, breathing hard. “Don’t scare me like that! You’re going to give me gray hair!”

“Well, you’re going to give me a heart condition before age eight,” Dinky sat down, her heart pounding. She had not realized how deep in thought she had been while she had been walking, and having herself plucked so suddenly out of her ideas for her book report was more stressful than she had anticipated.

“Well, that would certainly make all the heart motifs around town ironic,” said Silver Spoon, adjusting her glasses and then helping Dinky back up.

The two of them were generally on good terms. It came in part from a kindred coat tone: Silver Spoon in unfortunate gray, and Dinky in only marginally more attractive pale lavender. As it turned out, though, Silver spoon had a substantial academic bent that closely matched Dinky’s- -at least when Diamond Tiara was not around.

Dinky looked around to Silver Spoon’s side and saw a thick, dusty book peeking out of her saddlebags.

“You’ve found one already?” she asked, somewhat jealous.

Silver Spoon smiled broadly and brought the book out. “Of course! See? “Strange Alchemy”, the historically annotated version!”

“Well I hope you like reading annotations. Because that copy is written in Old Equestrian.”

“Oh, I know. It preserves the meter of the stanzas.”

“You read Old Equestrian?”

“Of course!”

Dinky raised an eyebrow. “Deiyn gohbeitheae gehdg ‘Doch’ ar gyfei grahd ar yueighch adrohdaed.”

Silver spoon appeared shocked and insulted. “Peigh feidek chi’n dweeiud hinni?”

“Eig ‘Meddeiyg Dochi’…”

Silver Spoon immediately burst into laughter so rapidly and so unexpectedly that she snorted. This made Dinky laugh, and pretty soon they had both become so loud that somepony shushed them from the other side of one of the extensive crystal shelves.

They tried their best to calm down, but spent several minutes quietly giggling. When they had finally finished, Silver Spoon was blushing profusely. “Oh, if only,” she said, wistfully, hugging the ancient tome close to her chest. “If only…”

“I guess that means I can’t do that one,” said Dinky, standing up. “That’s okay, though. I’m more of a nonfiction filly.”

“I’m on my way over there right now, actually,” said Silver Spoon. “I need to find Diamond Tiara’s book.” She rolled her eyes. “Something by Donald Rump I think. ‘Art of the Wheel’, maybe.”

“Trixie hates that book.”

“I know. Knowing her, it’s probably the reason why she lives in a hobo cart instead of a house.”

Dinky was not sure what that meant, but smiled anyway even though the way Silver Spoon said it made her feel uncomfortable. She shook her head, though. “No, you go ahead. I’m going to the Far Edge.”

“The Edge? You’re really going to go all out on this, aren’t you?”

“Well, look at who I have to compete with.”

Silver Spoon smiled, and the two fillies parted company. Silver Spoon started toward the popular nonfiction section, while Dinky made her way to the Far Edge. It was not actually called that, and no doubt Twilight would not have appreciated them using that name for it. Rather, the name was a whimsical title provided by little fillies who had never and likely would never been in any room so large as the library.

The ‘Far Edge’ was a section in the rear of the library, partially obscured by the architectural curvature castle. The shelves were both higher and were arranged in unorthodox patterns to accommodate for the shape of the section. The floor was not quite level, and the light was not as bright as in the remainder of the library. It came from only one high and small window, trailing through the thick book-dust of the section and casting strange shadows between the tall shelves.

This was the place where the oldest and most challenging books in the library were placed. It was also Dinky’s favorite spot. Few ponies ever bothered to come to the Far Edge, and those that did rarely took anything back out. The concentration of old and unread stories in this section was far higher than elsewhere. Judging by their tattered and yellowed library cards, some of them had not been checked out since long before they were transferred in from the Royal Canterlot Library.

Just thinking about the Canterlot Library made Dinky shiver. Supposedly, it dwarfed its Ponyville counterpart. It had entire wings, some of which were kept locked to the uninitiated. Dinky, of course, had never left Ponyville and as such had never had a chance to see it. If all went well, though, she would soon have the bittersweet experience of saying goodbye to the Ponyville library and accepting the Canterlot version as her new home and base of academic operations.

That was for later, though. Dinky focused, and looked through the uneven and faded spines of the duty book surrounding her. This proved somewhat disheartening: many of them were too dull even for her, or simply trite and obsolete texts placed in this section as a historical novelty. There were a surprising number of ninth-century bridle-rippers, and Dinky blushed at the idea of having to present one of those in front of her class.

Eventually, though, she spied one that seemed appropriate.

“‘An Annotated Historie of Assyria and the Donkeys who Dweleth There’,” read Dinky, her exacting vision reading the embossed golden letters on the exceedingly thick spine of the book despite its location on the top shelf. “‘The Extra-Dry Version’. No way, a Clover the Clever book? I’ve to have it!”

Dinky looked around, trying to find a ladder. Unfortunately, there were none present in the Far Edge due to its unusual geometry. Not that they were especially helpful: they were mostly meant to allow Spike to shelve books; the rungs of a ladder were almost impossible to negotiate for a pony’s hooves.

No doubt the book had been placed up there with the assumption that Twilight Sparkle would be the only one who wanted to read it. Dinky, though, was not an alicorn: she could not fly, and her magical range was too small to reach the book, even if she stood on her hind hooves and stretched her stubby horn as high as it would go.

This did not deter her, though. Instead, she looked around, making sure that nopony was watching. Then she directed her magic onto herself and muttered the constituent structure of a spell that she had learned months before in this very section.

The spell shuddered, and Dinky felt herself vibrate. She held her breath, not sure if it would work this time, but it did. Her pale golden magic surrounded her, and she began to grow lighter. Slowly, she began to rise.

Levitating herself took immense concentration. Unfortunately, Dinky was facing a number of books. Many of them were unlabeled except for the stickers on their spines, all of them empty and forgotten. Some, though, still had faded text on their sides. As Dinky rose toward her goal, she could not help but look at those books. She tried not to, but eventually one caught her attention.

“Archeological Surveys of Exmoor!” she squealed, reaching out for the book with one hoof- -and immediately breaking her levitation spell. With a cry, she suddenly began to fall backward- -and landed directly onto the back of a pony passing below her.

“Oof!” she said, striking the pile of books that had been balanced on the pony’s back and falling painfully to the floor. “Butter-CRANBERRY!” she swore, rolling around in momentary pain.

Though initially unpleasant, she immediately sat up, intending to apologize to the unfortunate pony that she had landed on. That pony, however, had not seemed to have bothered to stop. Dinky just barely caught a glimpse of her bright yellow coat and deep scarlet tail as she passed around the far edge of the shelves.

“Wait!” cried Dinky, standing up suddenly. “Miss, you dropped your books!”

The pony did not come back, nor did she even reply. Dinky ran to the edge of the shelves and looked in the direction that she knew the mare had gone- -but saw nopony.

Dinky slowed and walked down the curving section of the stack. The light was dimmer here, and she shelves higher. Each isle that Dinky passed, though, stood empty and silent. Even as they grew darker and more ancient, Dinky still saw no pony, even as the hallway came to a dead end. There were still a few more isles beyond, all of which were lit by wholly inadequate crystal lanterns, but Dinky did not want to go any further.

“Miss?” she called.

There was no response, but Dinky still waited. After a few moments, though, Dinky decided that she no longer wanted to be in this section, or even in the Far Edge anymore. She turned and walked quickly toward where she had come from, but found herself pausing and looking at the floor. Below here were a set of wet hoofprints that proceeded toward the darkened section of the library. Dinky looked over her shoulder, and saw that they trailed off, fading as they approached the dead end.

Dinky shivered, but this time it felt unpleasant. She did not want to stay, and found herself trotting through the shelves. Everything suddenly seemed so much darker, and the light coming through the windows had begun to fade.

She only paused a second time as she passed the isle she had been in. The pile of books that the pony had been carrying still lay on the floor in disarray. As badly as Dinky wanted to leave, she simply could not allow them to remain in that state. Not only was she loathe to leave her beloved library in such a mess, but she was worried that if Twilight found out it was her, she might get suspended or even banned from using the library. The academic repercussions would be devastating.

So, as much as she wanted to leave them there, Dinky found herself picking up the books and stacking them neatly into a pile. There were surprisingly few, and most of them were quite generic.

One, however, caught Dinky’s attention. She was not sure why, exactly, because it was completely ordinary. Like many of the books in the Far Edge, it had no dust jacket and was bound in faded gray cloth with a red spine. Also like many of the books there, it had no outer title or author name.

Momentarily forgetting her sudden and inexplicable apprehension, Dinky flipped open the front cover of the book. She was not a fool, and knew that all the information about the book could be found in one of the opening pages, followed by the publisher and the acknowledgements and table of contents before any semblance of real text appeared. Oddly, though, this book had none of that. There was no author or title, or any information whatsoever about it. The main text just started out of nowhere after two perfectly blank pages.

Dinky almost began to read it, but was interrupted by a chime that startled her far more than bumping into Silver Spoon ever could have. It was the pleasant ringing that indicated that the library was on the verge of closing.

That, of course, was impossible. Dinky had only left school at most forty minutes earlier, and the library did not close until sunset, which should have not been until eight P.M. Looking out the windows, though, Dinky saw that the sun was indeed setting. Somehow, Dinky had lost track of a substantial amount of time.

Now panicking, Dinky closed the book and placed it on top of the stack and rushed out of the Far Edge and into the main body of the library.

“Dinky?” said a voice as Dinky passed quickly. This once again startled Dinky, and she nearly dropped the books she was carrying as her concentration lapsed and the spell holding them weakened. She recognized the voice, though, and turned to see the unicorn Starlight Glimmer looking down at her.

“That’s a lot of books,” said Starlight. “If you keep this up, you’ll break Twilight’s record.” She then muttered to herself: “and probably get a pair of wings before I do…”

“These? Oh,” Dinky set them down. “A pony was carrying them, but she dropped them.”

“A pony?” asked Starlight, seeming surprised.

“Yeah. Have you seen her? Yellow, with red hair.”

“Yellow…no. I haven’t seen a pony like that today. Especially not with red hair. I don’t even know a pony like that.” Starlight shrugged. “But there’s a lot of ponies here I don’t know, and I don’t see everypony that comes into the library. Here.” She picked up the stack of books with much greater ease than Dinky could ever hope to muster. “I’ll shelve them for you. You need to get home. We’re almost closing and unlike Twilight you can’t live in the library. Or sleep on a bed made of books.”

“A what?”

“Never mind. You know your mother doesn’t like you walking home alone at night.”

“Yes. Because she thinks there are ‘monsters’ in the darkness. And in her closet. And under her bed.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Starlight with a degree of seriousness that indicated that she had completely forgotten that she was speaking to a filly who, had she not been Dinky, might have suddenly become rather worried about the existence of potential monsters in the night.

“But I need a book for my report!” cried Dinky, suddenly more afraid than she had been all day. She looked around in panic, and then simply pulled the top book of the pile that Starlight was holding. “This one will work…” She started trotting quickly toward the front desk, and turned to look over her shoulder. “Thank you, Ms. Glimmer!”

“‘Ms. Glimmer’ makes me feel old!”

“Well, compared to me, you are!”

Starlight grumbled but smiled and took the pile books with her as she went to return them to their proper places, minus the one that Dinky had taken. In another version of events, one where that book had remained, perhaps Starlight would have realized its implication as soon as she had looked at its spine and found no library sticker attached. Or perhaps, like all the others for so, so long, she would just have passed it over for the next in a sequence of books that had remained forgotten for so very long.

Comments

[Mira Starlight]

that Trump analogue, tho. The Art of the Wheel, by Donald Rump!

[Emperor]

Interesting. Given the pony who disappeared is a ghost or something, I wonder if she was there with the castle originally, having originated from the Tree of Harmony, or if she came from an add-on.

Of course, not every book has a starting section with copyright and publishing information, at least if they're old enough. Given how many of them are indicated to be fairly aged, this could easily be the case for them so Dinky shouldn't be that surprised (unless Equestrian publishing guidelines got in front of Earth guidelines by several hundred years?)

[Legioner8]

Silver Spoon smiled broadly and brought the book out. “Of course! See? “Strange Alchemy”, the historically annotated version!

Is that a shameless self promotion I see?

[Silver Hoof]

Is the Yellow pony supposed to represent Hatsur? images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/intermediary/f/3f1cc1b2-31e1-4488-b6d9-ccb346ec5fb3/d1f08q8-bc7a2ab1-ddfb-4f16-95ce-d685a269d1f5.jpg vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/evil/images/a/a6/The_Yellow_Sign.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150624023834

[Conscat]

A slight Pegasus-manufactured breeze was blowing, carrying with it the smell of the numerous flower beds throughout Ponyville and, though its notes were far subtle and more distant, the earthy, strange scent of things decaying within the Everfree Forest.

Does this mean they have ponies in the forest just flapping their wings very hard for several hours?