Prologue
Alicorns, an Orangutan, and L-Space
Written by: Honey Mead
Pre-read by: Doomande and Ponky
Prologue 2
[Footnotes]
Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria(1), there were two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony for all the land. To do this, the eldest used her unicorn powers to raise the sun at dawn; the younger brought out the moon to begin the night. Thus, the two sisters maintained balance for their kingdom and their subjects, all the different types of ponies.
Enter Princess Celestia, Mover of the Sun, Immortal Ruler of Equestria, Elder Sister, Aunt, and, most importantly, owner of the largest library in existence(2). Said Princess laid stretched out lazily across the velvet couch in her private chambers. The side of her royal head rested comfortably against the legrest. Four long white legs stuck out over the open air as a small smile played across her muzzle. In the air before her was a small cloud of golden light. This cloud carried within it an unrolled scroll that the aforementioned princess was reading(3). When suddenly there came a knock at the door.
Knock! Knock!
Celestia looked up halfway through her fifth reading of the missive to see a rather large pair of soft purple eyes attached to a painfully pink pate peeking purposefully around the slightly open door. She suppressed an embarrassed blush as the scroll disappeared in a small flare of golden light.
“Mi Amore!... You’re back so soon? Wasn’t Haywaii everything the brochure promised?” Celestia asked, rolling off the couch to her hooves.
The pink alicorn(4) stepped fully into the room, “Oh, it was wonderful Aunt C. But you know how Shining is. He could barely sleep for worry.”
A mischievous smile found its way to the taller pony’s lips. “And I’m sure that’s the only reason he found sleeping difficult.”
“Aunt Celestia!” The pink princess’ profile produced a pronounced purple pigment.
}{AOL}{
It is a rather unfortunate thing that wizards are often portrayed as thin and malnourished old men with long white beards that drag across the floor. The unsightly truth of the matter is that, though they are old and white of beard, they are rather a bit more bulbous. This is because the lifestyle of wizarding is not one that promotes physical exertion, except where the consumption of food is involved(5). Hence, the noteworthiness of the scene taking place in one of the exalted hallways of the Unseen University.
Rincewind is, by a fair margin, the worst wizard ever. He is as much not a wizard as can be while still being a wizard(6). There are a number of reason why one could be forgiven for mistaking him for a member of the staff rather than the Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography that he is: the speed at which he moved down the hall, which could be described as a sprint; his lack of girth around the midsection, gangly is a popular term; the absences of anything that even remotely resembled a beard trailing in the wind--proper facial hair has always eluded him. In truth the only clue available to the casual observer of his status as a wizard would be the cloths draped about his spindly form.
Making soft padding noises as they impacted the floor were his soft velvet slippers. Across his shoulders, and gripped in a tight fist to prevent tripping, sat a rather simple(7) red robe. The hat being held in place atop his head by his other hand was of the tall pointy variety with the word “Wizzard” spelled out in large sparkly sequins.
“AAAAHHHH!!! I’M LATE! I’M LATE! I’M LATE!”
Unfortunately for Rincewind, he will continue to be late as he has unwittingly taken a wrong turn away from the library and will soon find himself in the Arcane Repository of Magical Mysteries which happens to be located on the opposite end the the University.
Meanwhile, in a completely different part of the University, the by far most intelligent inhabitant was being closely examined by the second most intelligent inhabitant.
Hex, the Discworld’s one and only thinking machine, rumbled and quaked while it worked. Beneath the dull grinding of hidden gears there was a barely noticeable squeal of metal on metal as the mouse ran in its little wheel. The anthill at its heart was, well, an anthill of activity. The two sheep skull water wheels spun as the hourglass emptied for the third time and reset... again.
Ponder Stibbons pushed his hat back and scratched his head in confusion. For the past three hours, Hex had been working non-stop, yet the quill had not moved to the paper. The poor mouse seemed about to fall over in exhaustion. In accordance with narrative exposition--that was about to change.
Without warning everything stopped and the arm reached out to the paper and began to write.
+++Error. Out Of Cheese. Redo From Start+++
Prof. Stibbons sighed as he dropped a piece of cheese into the mouse’s cage, which the mouse attacked with gusto. Hex rumbled back to life and Stibbons resumed his observations from his chair, an expression of weary fascination occupying his hitherto bland features.
}{AOL}{
The picture currently under scrutiny by the white coated stallion was a recent addition to the Canterlot Fine Art Museum. In scale the painting was massive. Two full grown stallions could stand nose to flank and still leave a few centimeters on either side. Princess Celestia seemed to positively glow in the background with wings outstretched as though reaching out to the audience of thousands of ponies. The foreground was populated by a kaleidoscope of multi coloured ponies, each looking up to the six ponies standing just below Celestia. Those six were the focus of the painting. Six young mares standing nervously on a stage in front of almost the entire population of Canterlot.
For all its artistry, the blond unicorn only had eyes for one of those lovely mares. Her mane and tail, exquisitely crafted; her coat, immaculate. So consumed was He with the thoughts and emotions caused by that mare that there was only room for one stray thought, Will glaring give me wrinkles?
Fear of such a fate finally enabled Him to pull His eyes away from the painting. Being so freed they began to wander about the gallery. He had to fight the grimace trying to form on His lips, it was unbecoming of a Prince to frown. All these ponies walking around as though they were the most important ponies in the room. Did they not realize royalty walked among them? Was it too much to ask that they treat Him with the deference and respect due His birth? It was all that mare’s fault. Hers and her five commoner friends’.
He frowned then. It was bad enough that she had embarrassed Him at the Gala. Then they had to go and save Equestria from Discord. It was pure luck that Cadance and Shining Armor were the ones to cast out the Changelings. Then that self important Fancy Pants had the audacity to treat her as somepony worth knowing. It was enough to make one sick.
With a stomp of His hoof He made His exit. She would get hers. Yes, she would get hers.
}{AOL}{
A thunderstorm brewed menacingly overhead, dark clouds blotting out the light of the sun. A bolt of lightning flashed in the distance accompanied by a high pitched wail. A second flash of lightning arced through the sky and exploded as it struck a lightning rod. The sound of maniacal laughter echoed softly in the night air. The distinct sound of a werewolf’s howl could be heard in the distance. In other words, it was just another Sunday morning in Überwald.
Lady Margolotta lounged comfortably in her oversized black bat-wing backed chair, a book held in her elegant pale fingers. The title of this book, being written in Überwaldian, is still a mystery. Though the small smile that parted her lips just enough to show her fangs may give some small clue as to its contents. The hand not occupied by holding the aforementioned book twirled at a black ribbon tied about her pale neck.
“Come in, Miss Healstether.”
Knock Kno-
The door opened soundlessly. The tall drawn figure of the librarian strode quickly--though purposefully might be a better word--into the room. Stepping next to the chair she held a small paper toward her employer.
“A clacks has come from Lord Vetinari, Lady Margolotta. And shall I send for Igor to fix the door?”
Slowly placing the book down on the side table she took the proffered slip. “Thank you. Please do, things have been so busy of late I have not had the opportunity.”
Miss. Healstether crossed the room to a thick rope hanging limply from the ceiling. Before she could take the rope in her grasp an oddly shaped man stepped out of one of the darker shadows, “You rang mashter?”
“Yes, Igor, would you see to the hinges. They seem to have lost their creak.”
“Ath you thay. I thall thee to it immediately.”
Lady Margolotta turned back to the note in her hand as Igor limped quickly to the door with an odd looking oil can in his grip. Opening the note she read over it before glancing at the Hnaflbaflwhiflsnifltafl(8) board located across the room. “Oh, Vetinari, you are clever.”
}{AOL}{
“But you already gave us that beautiful silverware set. You really don-”
“Nonsense, Mi Amore, I insist. Believe me, it’s my pleasure.”
The two princesses continued their conversation as they walked down the hall. The back and forth didn’t particularly change until they reached their destination when the smaller pink one looked at her aunt in slight confusion.
“The library?”
“Yes.”
“Your giving us a book?” Despite her protestations her face drooped slightly.
“A very special book.”
The doors to the great archive began to glow with a golden light and opened. Celestia stepped through and led the younger deep into the cavernous room.
}{AOL}{
The sounds echoing through the halls of the Baron’s palace were not altogether pleasant. Indeed, the sounds could be summed up as only slightly worse than a banshee’s wail. The staff had all learned to deal with this phenomena in their own ways. Any that could would simply leave the grounds until the next day. The maids stuffed bits of cotton in their ears, as did most of the staff. The cooks, however, had come up with a far more efficient, if messy solution. After all, there are only so many things available in a kitchen that can be shoved in one's ears, and it wasn’t like it was their first choice.
The horrid sound was emanating from the library. More specifically it was coming from the small third room of the library, which was a little odd as the castle was only built with two--not that anyone was bothering to question it at the time. To be even more specific the wailing was coming from a rather comfy chair in the third room of the library. To be just a slight bit more exact it was being produced by the throat of one Letitia de Chumsfanleigh, formally Keepsake, Baroness of The Chalk, sitting in the comfy chair in the third room of the library.
Letitia continued to blubber loudly, even as the pile of sodden and discarded tissues buried her up to her neck. The cause of this distress was located on the side table just outside the growing pile of moist white paper. The candle light glinted--far too smugly--off the gold leaf lettering on the cover reading The Last Unicorn.
}{AOL}{
A dark blue pony sat at a table covered in tomes. Her hoof idly flipped to the next page of the tome currently occupying the space before her. The History of Ponynomics Vol. XI is not a book for the faint of heart--or any heart that still produces a pulse for that matter. Written generations ago by dusty old stallions in a dusty old library with dusty old reference books, the introduction alone has been noted to cause suicidal thoughts(11).
The horn on the pony’s head began to glow with a dark blue aura for a moment. Had there been another pony around to act as an observer, they may have noticed the small wires hanging loosely from her ears. Indeed, had they paid close enough attention, they could possibly have heard a slight change in the ambient noise around the vicinity of the pony in the form of a soft, but unmistakable, wub wub wub.
Luna smiled and closed her eyes, head bobbing to a beat all her own. It is also within the realm of likelihood that she raised a foreleg in the air and began moving the attached hoof in a back and forth motion.
}{AOL}{
Blind Io glared at the board with his many floating eyes as he absentmindedly shook the cup of dice. He had been like this for hours. Besides himself the only players left were Fate and the Lady. It had been a particularly long game and he found himself in a wonderful position. Hence his trepidation. If there was one thing he had learned it was to never trust a good position when Fate and the Lady were involved.
With a sigh of resignation he moved his pawn and cast the dice. Like a grand thunderhead they bounced across the board. He smiled as the red cubes came to a stop. Somewhere on the Disc a lone hero slew a pack of wolves with a bit of string, a paperclip, and some gum(12).
Io’s smile faded when a he felt a strange tug upon his divine soul. All the gods blinked and looked around as they too felt the strange sensation..
The One True God Om gripped his face with his holy hand and groaned, “Oh, no, not another one.”
}{AOL}{
“Ah, here it is.” A golden glow enveloped a red bound book and pulled it from the shelf. “Here you go, I really wish I had thought of this before the Honeymoon.”
A light blue aura over took the gold one and brought the book up to the pink pony. Her eyes scanned the cover, “Poni-sutra?”
The cover began to open only for a white hoof to quickly intercept it. “This is really something that you and Shining should read together... in the privacy of your rooms... alone... together.”
Cadance eyed her aunt suspiciously. She knew that Celestia was infamous for her pranks. She searched the alabaster face for any hint of a smile, any modicum of emotion, and found none. Perhaps this really was a genuine gift. Of course it wasn’t, and she knew it, but she couldn’t just go against her aunt.
As Cadence forced a smile and opened her mouth to thank Celestia for the gift, a small puff of smoke wafted between them. Hanging in the air for a half second, the smoke flared in a green flame and a scroll popped into existence between them and fell to the floor.
“Oh, this must be important. If you will excuse me, dear.” Picking up the scroll in her mouth Celestia trotted, perhaps a little too quickly, away from her niece.
Finding a nice secluded space, the princess sat down and opened the scroll. Reading the first lines brought a small smile to her lips and a slight blush to her cheeks.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I know that you are busy, but do you remember if there has always been three rooms in the library? I ask because I could have sworn that there were only two. Only I was sorting the books in the second room and I noticed a door that I am sure hadn’t been there the day before. Inside was a whole new room filled with empty shelves. It is really starting to worry me.
Your Faithful Student,
Twilight Sparkle
SCREEEEEEEEECCCCHHHHHH!!!!
Celestia lifted her hooves from her ears as the horrible noise ended and looked around in confusion. That infernal racket had to come from somewhere. “Cadence! Did you hear that?”
SCREEEEEEEEECCCCHHHHHH!!!!
An ancient memory sparked in the back of her mind, smouldering amongst its long forgotten siblings. She looked back down at the letter Twilight had sent. There was something there. The memory flared.
SCREEEEEEEEECCCCHHHHHH!!!!
The internal monologue of the princess is believed to have gone something like this.
Extra room? There were definitely only two rooms in that library. I oversaw the construction myself. Loud screeching, I know I have heard that somewhere before. Why do I keep thinking of space? Space....... Library? Extra rooms? Space! Library! L-space!
“Oh-”
SCREEEEEEEEECCCCHHHHHH!!!!
}{AOL}{
“Is it done?”
“It is done.”
“Then all we must do now is wait.”
“Yes, wait, and everything will come together.”
“Everything will come together and fall apart for both worlds.”
“And everything will fall apart and finally we will have order.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.02 seconds
Total duration
1,081 users online
2,584,810 hits today, 2,571,732 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
My dad once told me, he said, "Together heroes endure, grandma always makes eclairs."
...I still have no idea what he was talking about.
As before I want your thoughts and comments.
If a joke didn't work please tell me.
And give some lovin' to Doomande and Ponky, without them this story probably never would have happened... So blame them, it's all their fault!
So many friggin' page breaks!
And why do I sense Discord? dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/discord.png
PS. You forgot to write about Granny Weatherwax
1135101
Well there was a lot of stuff... and jumping around is fun... especially with puddles... and with poodles... but not puddles of poodles, those don't work well.
Because you are standing next to his statue? Or
do you have Pinkie Sense? If so you might want to get it re-calibrated before you dodge into a falling object.
You mean Mistress Weatherwax? I would watch your tongue, that is unless she has given you permission to call her Granny.
1135140
Are you Pinkie Pie? Cause.. you are SO random!
What if I'm one of the Ogg descendants?
And will you include some of the Guard? At least Cpt. Vimes would "spruce" things up!
1135154
Only on Wednesdays.
Tis only uh far warnin' to ye. Ya ken?
Now why in the Disc would Vimes get involved in all this foolishness. That is just silly. And its His Grace, The Duke of Ankh, Commander of the Watch, and Blackboard Eraser, Sir Samuel Vimes.
1135203
Oh you and your fancy-shmancy titles and doohickeys! Fine, you are the author here, do what you want!
1135154
Without saying to much. Many of the people and places that you know and love will be used. We have read a lot of his dicsworld books and can see inspiration many places. So sit back, relax and trow a little piece of cheese to Hex now and then.
PS. It´s His Grace, His Excellency, The Duke of Ankh; Commander Sir Samuel Vimes and not just Vimes, thank you
1135230
Author beat you to it:
1135237
But I forgot 'His Excellency'. So just to make it perfectly clear
His Grace, His Excellency, The Duke of Ankh, Blackboard-Monitor; Commander of the Watch, Sir Samuel Vimes.
1135220
Now now don´t be sad. We are just nitpickers that love Sir pratchett a lot.
So smile smile smile, read the story again and turn that frown upside down
I'd greatly like to hear more about that planet-scale Library.
Also, "alicorn" was not coined by a group of male humans from one of the more backwater planes of the multiverse who have developed a rather strange obsession with a show designed for young girls. Apparently, it was a creation of one specific male human from that plane, assuming my source is accurate.
Also also, godsdamn Auditors. I really want to see a certain draconequus and a certain milkman team up against them.
1137034
There are a number of ways to get there. Obviously L-Space is an option, if you can find a library large enough. But the most popular vehicle of choice is a little blue box.
Anything I say about this sounds argumentative and/or like whining.
gifsoup.com/webroot/animatedgifs4/1448378_o.gif
geekpeak.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/spoilers.png
Ha - Jack O' Neill! Great story so far!