The Flowers of Spring Sunshine
The Flowers of Spring Sunshine
a story of the SOS Brigade, Canterlot
transcribed by Kris Overstreet
based on characters created by Nagaru Tanigawa and Lauren Faust
Dear Princess Celestia,
I understand that you want to allow Spring Sunshine to have as normal a fillyhood as possible. I understand that all of Equestria would make that impossible if they knew there was another alicorn in the world with all the power of Discord and half the discretion. Despite this, I still don’t think you understand how inconvenient it is sometimes to chase after a pony to prevent her latest brainwave from changing the world as we know it- especially when you know the other people chasing along will do nothing whatever to stop her from doing whatever foolish thing is on her mind.
In any case, here is the most recent report, as promised, of strange incidents involving the powers possessed by Spring Sunshine. I will be glad to answer any lingering questions you might have after reading this report, but only in closed and confidential audience, for reasons you well understand.
As you already know from the hurried notes I sent you, we spent the weekend of the All Flowers Festival in Ponyville. (As usual Sunshine stuck me with paying for all of our tickets, meals, etc. If it wasn’t for your special allowance I don’t know what I’d do.) On the train ride Sunshine gave us our mission, which we were quite definitely going to accept. (Thankfully the parchment did not self-destruct in five seconds.)
“Every year all of Equestria gets a visit from the Flower Hare,” Sunshine said. “She comes out of the Everfree Forest the night before All Flowers Sunday and visits every good pony in Equestria. She leaves us an egg, or candy, or some similar gift every year! And yet everybody takes this for granted, and never asks the single most important question!”
You mean, how can a filly sixteen years old still believe in the Flower Hare? The Hare’s been right up there with Canter Claus on my list of ludicrous things, and I’ve seen various adults, particularly you, my princess, placing those eggs around town in the pre-dawn hours of All Flowers Sunday. And Sunshine, I’d thought, wouldn’t have put the Hare in the same category as her obsessions with humans, time travelers, and superheroes.
Of course Green Arbor opened his mouth. “You mean why we call her the Flower Hare, when a hare is a male rabbit?”
“Exactly!” Sunshine nodded. “We presume she’s female because males don’t lay eggs, but what if she doesn’t lay the eggs? They might be magically conjured! Or she might be a very wealthy rabbit who buys them to give out each All Flowers Festival! If so, think how important the Flower Hare must be to the Equestrian economy! She must have dozens of chocolatiers and chicken coops on hire to fill the demand!”
Oh, brother. So we’re going rabbit hunting?
“Of course not! We don’t want to capture the Flower Hare! All of Equestrian society might collapse if we did something as irresponsible as that! With that kind of thinking, Shiny, you’ll never be a responsible steward of the wonders of Equestria!” Sunshine pulled out a familiar-looking shopping bag. “We’re just going to lure her into the open long enough to ask some questions, that’s all.”
She plunged her hoof into the bag and brought out a bunny-mare suit. “Tonight we’ll stake out the homes of the younger children and the candymakers of the town,” Sunshine said. “Then Rosehip, wearing this, will approach the Flower Hare and win her confidence! Then we swoop in and make her answer our questions!”
Yes, because a pony in a sexy bunny-mare suit looks quite similar to an actual rabbit… to a cross-eyed mare, maybe!
Rosehips shook like a leaf as she heard this. She was nervous about going to Ponyville in the first place- when I asked why, she said it was classified information. But confronting the Flower Hare, and wearing the bunny-mare suit while doing it, put her on the edge of total collapse. I wanted to comfort her, but at the same time an opportunity to see such a cute and shapely filly as Rosehips in that costume again… well, you may or may not approve, my princess, but you are surely long-lived enough to understand the more base impulses we colts suffer from.
All the time Snowflake remained on her bench, reading her book: The Collected Works of O Horsey. I wondered what she thought about all this silliness. She had come from another world, where the only thinking animal was a bipedal bald ape, where science and rational thought ruled rather than the unpredictable whimsy of magic. Surely Earth had nothing like the Flower Hare! But the human-turned-unicorn paid no mind to us, immersed in stories written by a mustange over a century ago.
We arrived in Ponyville just at dusk, as the town’s businesses were closing to prepare for the big festival in the morning. Naturally everyone left it to me, the sole pegasus of the group, to carry all the luggage. I expect this from Sunshine, but really, people! Don’t let her selfishness be contagious!
I had just got the trunks and saddlebags balanced somehow on my back and forced my knees to take one trembling step off the train platform when something slammed into the top of the load. Luggage went flying everywhere, and I tumbled backwards with another pony tangled in my legs until we rolled off the end of the platform and into a mud puddle.
“Shiny!” Three voices shouted that stupid nickname at once. For a wonder, one of them was Sunshine’s. The rest of the SOS Brigade trotted over to me, where I was helping the blonde-maned, gray-coated pegasus back to her hooves. When I saw her eyes I regretted having made the mental comment about cross-eyed mares on the train. The mare, about ten years older than I was, looked like she was trying to look at her own nose- or possibly her own ears.
“I’m sorry!” she said, stepping away from me. “I just don’t know what went wrong! I was just leaving Bon Bon’s house when there was this strange updraft, and then a downdraft, and- OH NO!” She leaned over the mud puddle where I still lay, looking at something by my left elbow.
A little paper bag and spilled on its side, and in the mud next to it lay scattered fragments of what had once been a beautiful Flower Festival egg, chocolate painted with the thinnest lines of colored sugar- all colors, in an elegant web of comestible art. And it was smashed and half-submerged in very stinky, non-chocolatey mud.
“I’ve broken Dinky’s All Flowers egg!” the gray mare wailed. “It was brought in from Canterlot! Cake Ace and Mocha Crème made it themselves! Bon-Bon ordered it special for me because that was what Dinky asked for! And I ruined it!” She sat down in the mud, put her hooves over her face and cried. “I’ve ruined Dinky’s All Flowers Festival!”
Sunshine, as you would expect, demonstrated her usual empathy and tact. “What are you crying about?” she snapped. “Your little Dinky, she’s been a very good filly all year, right?”
The gray mare sniffled. “She’s the very best!”
“Then the Flower Hare will bring her an egg twice as glorious and beautiful as that one!” Sunshine said, pointing to the wreckage of one of Equestria’s most expensive candy creations. “So don’t worry about it!”
Well, after such a demonstration of comfort and understanding as that, you’d expect the target to be impressed, and you would be right. The gray mare was so impressed that for the next three minutes we couldn’t get a thing out of her other than sobs and wails loud enough to draw every eye in Ponyville right on top of us… all of them glaring.
Eventually I got up, brushed the worst of the mud off my coat, and caught the attention of the wailing pegasus. “Listen, ma’am,” I said quietly. “You’ve lost your special gift to your daughter, but that doesn’t mean the festival is ruined for her. She’s not expecting the egg until tomorrow, right?”
She stopped crying long enough to shake her head.
“Then don’t spoil her evening,” I said quietly. “Dry your eyes. Make her favorite supper. Let her go to sleep dreaming of that egg.” I could feel Sunshine’s eyes glaring at me as I finished, “And I swear to you, we will make sure that egg is there when she gets up tomorrow morning.”
“H-h-how?” the mare asked. “Bon-Bon only ordered the one!”
“We just came here from Canterlot,” I said. “And we know a few people. I guarantee you, we can get a replacement egg. Trust me.” I put a reassuring hoof on her shoulder, and she put hers over mine. I could feel Sunshine’s glare burning like a welding torch on my back when that happened.
“C-can you really?” the mare asked.
“We can do the impossible,” I said. And as you know, princess, we have done the impossible, many times over. I thought something as simple as rushing a fancy chocolate egg down from Canterlot would be child’s play by comparison. More foal I, but…
With her eyes dry and the beginnings of a smile returning to her face, the pegasus helped pick up our luggage. Then she went flying off, making erratic and unpredictable loops and somersaults in the sky, making her way across Ponyville more by ricochet than actual navigation. I kept my eyes on her until she landed in front of a little house, where a very small unicorn filly of similar colors let her into the door, bouncing with anticipation.
“What do you think you’re doing, Shiny?” Sunshine asked. “We don’t have time for this! We need to scout the town so we know where to wait for-“
I pointed through the streets and cottages to that one house, where a cross-eyed mare was trying to pretend all was well for her little filly. “Are you seriously going to tell me you’re willing to let that be?” I said. “What if the Flower Hare only brings a plain chocolate egg? Or worse, a painted chicken egg? That filly’s mother wanted to do something special, and then we got in the way. It’s only right that we help out. That’s what the All Flowers Festival is about, isn’t it? Sharing the joy of beauty and creation?”
Sunshine sulked for a few moments, then shook her head violently, her twin yellow ribbons bouncing in her rough-cut mane. “Fine!” she said. “But I’m holding you personally responsible if we miss the Flower Hare, understand! I’ll think up a horrible penalty if we go home without the answer!”
Over Sunshine’s shoulder I saw Rosehip breathe a deep sigh of relief. I couldn’t help feeling a little smug about that. Not only had I persuaded Spring Sunshine to do the harmonious thing, but the new circumstances meant Rosehip wouldn’t have to wear the bunny suit after all. I didn’t even feel any regret about that. The victory over Sunshine’s selfishness was well worth any fleeting thrills from Rosehip’s beautiful body.
“Right!” Sunshine said, instantly taking command. “Snowflake and I will go to this Bon-Bon person’s house. No chocolate seller ever orders only one of anything! Green Arbor and Rosehip will find out more about that mare and figure out how we’ll get the egg to her once we get it! And Shiny, you get us checked into the inn for the night! We’ll meet back here in an hour!”
So, still no help with the luggage? Oh, my aching back.
An hour later I’d secured two rooms at Ponyville’s only inn- one for the colts, one for the fillies. I’d also written two notes, one to you, my princess, and the other to Smoky Brie, who has helped the SOS Brigade in the past, with and without Sunshine’s knowledge. Both notes, as I’m sure you remember, went more or less like this:
Due to circumstances too complicated to explain just now, we need an Ace & Crème deluxe Flowers Festival egg sent from Canterlot to us here in Ponyville immediately. Are there any left? If there are, don’t bother with a reply, just send it at once. It must arrive before dawn. Very sorry to put you to the trouble, etc…
I had both scrolls in my teeth when I went back to the station to meet the rest of the Brigade. For once I wasn’t the last to arrive. Sunshine and Snowflake were waiting for me, but Rosehip and Green Arbor hadn’t arrived yet. I gave the scrolls to Snowflake before asking, “Any luck with a replacement egg?” I asked.
“I can’t believe it,” Sunshine said, “but Bon-Bon really did order just one. Not only that, but she doesn’t even have any ordinary chocolate eggs left. She can’t even make one for us- she says she ran out of materials this morning and won’t be able to get new ingredients until after the festival! How lame is that?” she shouted, kicking the train platform with a hind hoof. “What kind of businesswoman lets herself run out of stock on her biggest sales day of the year?”
Then Sunshine pointed to Snowflake, who was looking down at the scrolls I’d given her. “And this Bon-Bon person had a really annoying unicorn for a roommate- a musician of some kind. The whole time we were there she was waving a black box in the air, and it beeped every time it went anywhere near Snowflake. The crazy mare said it was her human detector!” Sunshine shook her head again, sending those ribbons dancing. “Anyone can see Snowflake’s a perfectly normal unicorn! We got out of there as soon as we could. It was driving me nuts!”
I looked at Snowflake. This strange unicorn had been luckier than Sunshine knew. And if she was driving Sunshine nuts, how did Snowflake feel, having a beeping box waved in her face? I made a mental note to discourage any repeat visits to Ponyville in the future. “These,” I said, “are letters to Princess Celestia and Smoky Brie, asking for help replacing that egg. Could you please send them for me?”
With a flash of magic from Snowflake’s horn, the scrolls vanished. I didn’t worry about her getting them mixed up; Snowflake had powers much greater than mere ordinary unicorn magic, as I’ve reported before.
As we waited for the replies, Green Arbor and Rosehip returned from the town. The mare’s name was apparently Derpy Hooves, or something like it; the people of the town called her Derpy or Ditzy-doo depending on who you asked. Opinions ranged from annoyance to deepest sympathy and love for the cross-eyed pegasus. She raised her little daughter on odd jobs, sometimes working for the Equestrian postal service, sometimes as an auxiliary weatherpony, and less often in other jobs that tended to end very suddenly.
Derpy’s house was a simple two-story cottage, with mother and daughter sharing a bedroom on the second story. Sneaking the egg into the house without waking one or both ponies was going to be impossible. The best we could hope for was to leave it on the doorstep and hope some other pony didn’t take it. Sadly, there are ponies who do that sort of thing, as I pointed out to Sunshine.
“That’s unforgivable!” she shouted. “We’re certainly not going to settle for that! We’re going to put that egg into that filly’s very hooves, Shiny! The SOS Brigade will settle for nothing less!”
Then we got your replies- first Smoky’s, then yours. Both said more or less the same thing: the Ace-Crème shop had already closed for the evening, the proprietors had left town to visit their respective families, and nobody who had one of their works was willing to give it up for any reasonable price.
Sunshine didn’t say anything after I read your letter aloud. She sat on the train platform, sulking, obviously furious. I opened my mouth to suggest something when I heard it- thunder in a clear, starry sky. I looked at the other brigade members and saw them for just a moment; then they vanished as the sky went from Luna’s blessed night to a featureless gray.
I was alone with Spring Sunshine on the train station. A wind blew up from nowhere, and Sunshine brushed her mane out of her eyes with one hoof. Then the earth trembled, and a glowing figure full of stars rose from the center of the town.
Corralled Space.
“It’s happened again!” Sunshine shouted. “Weren’t things already bad enough? And why here? This only happens in Canterlot!!”
Most of the time you’re not even aware of it, Sunshine. But then, why should you be? You only create this place. Every time you get frustrated or angry or jealous and can’t hold it in, you create these places. And you create the Orions too, the giant human-like things that destroy the buildings and countryside to vent your rage.
(Sorry, my princess, I don’t mean you you- these were my thoughts at the time, aimed at Spring Sunshine. You asked that I report in detail, so I include these details. Please pardon my offense.)
The Orion rose to its full height, leaned over the train station, and laughed, a big, booming laugh. “What’s the matter, little ponies?” it roared. “Did your All Flowers Festival egg get smashed? Well don’t worry. Soon every egg in this town will be smashed, along with every building in this puny village!”
“That’s what you think! This may be a village, but you’re the villain!”
Standing on top of one of the taller buildings near the Orion stood a pony, masked and body-suited, with a cape that flowed in the breeze and a mask and hat that hid all signs of his identity. Unlike almost everything else in this colorless mirror of the real world, he was brightly colored, red from muzzle to fetlock.
Sunshine smiled eagerly. “It’s Red Hero!” she shouted. “Shiny, we’re going to get to see Red Hero in action again!”
Considering that Sunshine’s subconscious wishes created Red Hero- or, rather, allowed Green Arbor to become a superhero when he entered one of Sunshine’s Corralled Spaces- I was a bit surprised she didn’t see him more often. According to Arbor, though, only on rare occasions, when she was particularly depressed or discouraged, did she cheer herself up with a live superhero show. The rest of the time Arbor and the other members of his mysterious Herd of Heroes cleaned up the Orions with silent efficiency.
And that was all to the good; without the heroes Sunshine’s imagination created, her Corralled Spaces would eventually expand until the whole world was destroyed and remade. At least, that’s what Green Arbor says will happen; you would know better than I, princess, if he’s right or not.
The Orion shifted its attention from us to the lone hero on the rooftop. “We know you, hero pony,” it said. “But there is only one of you this time. You are no match for me!”
“You picked the wrong town to terrorize,” Red Hero, aka Green Arbor, replied. “This is my home town. This is the home town for all superheroes! And when this town is invaded, we ALL come to its rescue!”
More ponies appeared on the rooftop, wearing the same general disguise, but each in a different color- yellow, blue, orange and pink. I’d met a couple of these out of their costumes. So had Sunshine, but she didn’t know it. She knew nothing of the Herd of Heroes, except for the occasional battle with the Orions where she bought herself- and me, always me- a ring-side seat.
And then a sixth pony appeared, and this one I recognized in a different way. The purple pony of power… the hind hooves of justice… the Mysterious Mare-do-Well herself.
I admit, even I was a bit awestruck to see her. A real, honest superhero, rather than one who only has powers when a particular pony is feeling cranky? That’s an event I’d wished for all my life as a foal, and now here it was in stark reality.
“This is your last chance!” Mare-do-Well shouted, taking a stand in front of the other heroes. “Depart or be destroyed!”
The Orion responded by forming a fist with one indistinct arm, bringing it down to smash the rooftop the heroes stood on. The usual heroes glowed bright red, became glowing spheres of light, and scattered from the rooftop. Mare-do-Well herself, on the other hoof, stood her ground. A purple glow surrounded her hat, and an immense beam of magic lanced out and struck the Orion square in the chest.
The giant toppled backwards, crushing a cake shop and the surrounding shops in the fall. Groaning loudly, it began pushing itself to his feet. A second blast struck the ground beneath it, flipping the glowing creature end over end, flopping it on its belly.
“It is weakened!” Mare-do-Well shouted to the hovering red balls of light. “Now is the time for the final strike!”
The glowing heroes sped down, flying with a speed just short of the Sonic Rainboom, faster than the eye could follow. Every swoop and swish of a bubble left a cut in the monster, slicing off limb after limb. Finally one bubble rose high into the gray sky, flared like a dying star, and plunged down into the heart of the beast, where it exploded.
The Orion gave one last despairing moan and vanished. The heroes landed on the rooftops, their glow fading to reveal their brightly colored costumes.
“You have saved Ponyville!” Mare-do-Well shouted. “I leave the tradition of heroes in your capable hooves! Carry on the good fight!” She leaped off of the rooftop, and the other heroes vanished in turn.
A few seconds later the sky cracked, shards of gray fell from the heavens, and then Corralled Space vanished, taking with it the smashed buildings and leaving behind Ponyville as it had been before.
In short, about as usual for Green Arbor and his comrades.
Except…
I had expected Green Arbor to run up from some alleyway or something after Sunshine and I returned to the real world. Instead he was right there beside us, standing next to Rosehips and Snowflake. “What happened?” he gasped, apparently as surprised as any of the others.
“It was so COOL!” Sunshine said. “An Orion tried to destroy Ponyville, but the Herd of Heroes showed up- and they had Mare-do-Well with them! Oooooh, I want her autograph!!” She looked around and saw a huge hill leading down to a cliff overlooking a pond on the edge of town. “Maybe if I go jump off that, she’ll come save me and I can ask her then! What do you think, Shiny?”
I was tempted to tell her to go ahead and jump, but common sense prevailed. “I think you’ve forgotten about Dinky Hooves’ festival egg,” I said. “You’re the brigade leader; any ideas about how we can get one at this time of night?”
“Well, obviously we can’t!” Sunshine snapped. “We’ve got only one option left: we have to tell the Flower Hare that she absolutely MUST give her the right egg! No substitutions! Once we explain the situation to her, she’ll understand!”
Oh, brother. Delusional to the very end.
“I admit it would be a simple solution,” Green Arbor said, “but we still have no guarantee we’ll see, pardon the term, hide nor hair.”
“There’s one place in town I’m certain he’ll visit!” Sunshine said. She pointed through the streets to that little two-story cottage. “Everyone says Derpy Ditz or whatever her name is, she’s a sweet and loving mother, right? No matter what her filly’s like, someone as innocent as her deserves an extra-special visit from the Flower Hare! So we’ll just wait outside her house until she arrives, right?”
This time Sunshine wouldn’t take no for an answer. What’s more, she decided that her initial plan to gain the confidence of the Flower Hare was back in action, with extra urgency.
I’m sorry, Rosehips. You ended up wearing the bunny suit after all.
So as the town clock struck two in the morning, we were all sitting in some bushes within a few yards of Derpy and Ditzy’s house, trying to stay awake. I was cursing myself for having made this happen. Why’d we get involved, anyway? Why did Sunshine take it into her head that Ponyville was a better place than Canterlot to meet the Flower Hare? I could be in my own bed right now, looking forward to the modest festival egg my parents would leave for me in the morning, even if my little sister always ends up stealing at least half of it. I wouldn’t be out in the damp, dew-ridden darkness, cold and miserable, prying my eyes open to stay awake.
I was so tired not even the sight of Rosehips in that skimpy bunny suit pacing back and forth next to that cottage sparked the least bit of interest anymore. (Yes, princess, I know it’s hard to believe, but that’s the truth.)
Then I heard a quiet snoring next to me. Spring Sunshine had fallen asleep, her head resting against the trunk of a small tree, one of her mane ribbons fluttering as she snored. Typical.
A hand- I can never stress strong enough, princess, how creepy it is when Snowflake lets her disguise drop and I see those things, fingers and thumb, where her hooves belong?- Snowflake’s hand dropped down and rubbed the side of Sunshine’s neck for a few moments. Then the hand became a hoof again, and the human-turned-pegasus looked at me.
“She will not wake up until well after dawn,” she said. “We need to talk.”
“What about?” I asked. Usually Snowflake observed passively, and I couldn’t remember any time but one when she’d done anything to Sunshine- and that one time, and its near-disastrous consequences, I’ve already reported.
“Closed loop,” she said.
I’d heard that term before. In fact, I’d experienced it several times over. It meant time travel, which meant headaches for someone- usually me.
“I was wondering when we’d get around to that.” Green Arbor was smiling from his seat in the bushes. “I couldn’t say so before, but whoever you saw fighting that Orion for Sunshine’s benefit, it wasn’t me.”
“It will be,” Snowflake said.
“Ah, I see,” Green Arbor nodded. “That also explains the presence of my allies.”
“Could one of you explain it to me?” I asked. “I’m totally lost.”
“To have my usual fighting companions nearby, they would have had to travel from Canterlot themselves,” Green Arbor said. “This, I am certain, they did not do, otherwise we would have met at least one of them on the train or at the station. Therefore, since obviously I must go back in time to help fight the Orion, since you saw me there, we can use the time loop to send for my allies and be prepared for the Corralled Space when it is created.”
Now I had it. Such things are easier to understand when you’ve been through similar situations before. “So we go back a couple of days, go back to Canterlot, and get your crew back here on the train?”
“No need,” Snowflake said.
“How’s that?”
“Twilight Sparkle.”
Rosehips joined us. “Um… excuse me… but I’ve just had a message from my superiors… we all need to go back about twelve hours into the past… if you don’t mind?”
Green Arbor and Snowflake both stared at me in expectation.
There we were, as all too usual; a human in disguise, a time traveler in a bunny suit, a part-time superhero, and an ordinary pegasus descended from the old praetorian classes, preparing to do the impossible to fix the complications made by the subconscious desires of a not-quite-ascended alicorn.
And, as usual, the three extraordinary people looked to me to make the final decision.
“First things first,” I said. “Let’s get Spring Sunshine to bed.”
After carrying the SOS Brigade leader back to the inn and tucking her in, we went just outside of Ponyville to a reasonably secluded copse of trees. We all closed our eyes while Rosehips activated her strange TPDD device, and the world dropped out from under us for several long seconds. Then daylight rushed through our eyelids, and we opened our eyes to see the outskirts of Ponyville a few hours before we originally arrived.
Again, such things make more sense once you’ve experienced them.
“Well, we’ve made it this far,” Green Arbor said. “I must say, my first experience with time travel doesn’t make me eager for the return journey.” The usually smiling pony let his smile drop. “But how can we get the cooperation of Twilight Sparkle? I’ve never met the pony, and she’s a very important person.”
“I think I saw a stationery shop in Ponyville,” I said. “We need to send a letter.”
“No need,” Snowflake said, pointing to something on the ground next to me. It was a scroll with ribbon underneath, ready for tying off and sending.
The letter was in my hoofwriting, addressed to you, my princess, and read:
Due to complications which shall be explained later, we have had to travel through time. To prevent a paradox we need the assistance of Twilight Sparkle. Please send a message to her telling her to expect four strange ponies at the Books and Branches at four P. M., and to be certain absolutely no one is present for the rest of the day.
Also, you will receive a note from me later this evening asking about a certain All Flowers Festival egg. Please decline the request made. A full explanation of all the day’s events will be forthcoming at a later date.
And thus my second note of the day, Princess Celestia, arrived several hours before I wrote and sent the first note. As you can guess, the existence of that letter would require yet another trip through time so I could leave it for myself- a complication I recognized immediately, but didn’t understand until later.
After we all read the letter and spent a few fruitless minutes discussing the implications (my guess was we would get an egg this afternoon in Ponyville before our original arrival), Snowflake wrapped the scroll in its ribbon and sent it on its magic way to you. This done, and confident in your support, we strolled into Ponyville to kill a bit of time before four o’clock rolled around.
Rosehips’ nerves barely stood the strain. She was still in the bunny suit, and virtually all the foals and fillies of the town, plus a few colts, crowded around her, all trying to make her acquaintance. Most of them demanded photos with her, which she granted with a grit-teeth smile and stark terror. I have to wonder how many Ponyville ponies would find those photos years later and wonder why they had their photo taken with a half-insane filly.
By quarter of four she was a nervous wreck, and I was wondering how we would get rid of the crowd in time for our appointment at the town library. Then an earth pony mare and filly walked up to us, the mare wearing a cowboy hat atop her wavy blonde mane, the filly a little bundle of red-maned energy. “Well, howdy there,” the mare said. “Come down for th’ Festival?”
“Is she the Flower Hare?” the filly asked. “Can I have a picture with the Flower Hare?”
Rosehips took one look at the two and went absolutely catatonic. She froze stiff as a board. When the strange mare poked her, she slowly toppled over onto her side, rattling like a bit dropped onto a plate. “Um, somethin’ wrong, sugar?” she asked.
Then the mare noticed Rosehips’ cutie mark- an apple with a clock built into it. “Say there,” the strange mare said, “that’s an interestin’ cutie mark you got there. We might be kinfolk! I’m Applejack, and this here is my sister Apple Bloom!”
“C-c-c-classified information,” Rosehips squeaked, barely audible.
“Beg pardon?” Applejack asked. “I swear, you act and sound a bit like Fluttershy when she’s scared plumb loco.”
“I, um, I, I mean I don’t think we’re related, ma’am,” Rosehips said a bit more loudly, managing to get back on her feet. “I’m attending advanced school in Canterlot. My family lives a long, long way away.”
“Farther than Appleloosa? I got kin there. Or Manehattan?”
“M-much farther.”
“Oh, I understand.” Applejack shrugged. “Must be one of those coincidences. Not like the Apple family have a trademark on apples for a cutie mark.”
“Is the Flower Hare feeling better? I want a photo! Oh, and can I go get Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle? They gotta be in the picture too! We Cutie Mark Crusaders-“
“Yeah, yeah, go get your friends, but hurry. These folks got things to do, I’m sure!” As her little sister ran off, she asked, “Y’all don’t mind, do ya? I understand this can be a real hassle. I’ve seen it happen to a couple friends of mine.”
“It’s quite all right,” Green Arbor said, “provided you help us get away from the rest of the crowd. We’re expecting to meet someone any minute for a confidential engagement.”
“Say no more!” Applejack whistled, getting the attention of the crowd of ponies still lingering nearby. “Sorry folks, show’s over! The Flower Hare and her friends gotta go get all the eggs ready for tomorrow!” She ignored the groans and disappointed boos. “C’mon, y’all, you got things ta do, already! Keep movin’! That’s right!”
Within minutes Applejack expertly herded the other ponies away from us, breaking up the crowd, shaming or pushing the most reluctant into going about their business. The street was empty except for the four of us and the orange earth pony when her sister returned, trailing an even more orange pegasus filly and a white unicorn filly. Despite their irrepressible energy, Applejack managed to get the three kids to settle down long enough for the photo to be taken.
And just in time; the town clock struck four as the shutter snapped.
“Thank you very much, Miss Applejack,” Green Arbor said, smiling warmly. “I don’t know how we would have convinced them to leave without you.”
“Ain’t no problem,” Applejack said. She took one last look at Rosehips and added, “I swear you look familiar, even without the cutie mark. You sure we ain’t- eh, forget it. C’mon, kids, let’s go see what Pinkie Pie’s got for us.”
As soon as the locals were out of sight we bolted for the large tree-house that contained the town library. A single knock was enough to gain us admittance, and there we were with your well-known personal student, Twilight Sparkle.
Without more than the basic introductions we laid out the problem to her as swiftly as possible. Twilight seemed to understand everything we told her, never once surprised or shocked as we explained the potential paradox and the need for magical transportation for at least four ponies. I don't know what you told her in your letter, princess, but she was obviously very prepared for what we brought to her.
“And finally,” I said, wrapping up the explanation, “we need to contact the Mysterious Mare-do-Well. She was also in the battle, so we need to find her. Quickly.” I saw a clock on the wall, did some math in my head, and said, “We’ve got about two hours to make this happen.”
“Not a problem,” she said confidently, and she delivered. This is surely no surprise to you, but your student is truly amazing. I vaguely remember her walking the streets of Canterlot when I was in middle school, going to or from a bookstore or in Donut Joe’s having a snack. Of course we’d never spoken then; she’s years older than I am, and in those days she barely spoke to anyone anyway. Still, back then she seemed nervous, shy and stand-offish, but as she organized magical teleportation from Canterlot for four total strangeponies, and as she suited up in the distinct purple suit of Mare-do-Well, she was as warm and open and friendly as anyone I could think of in Canterlot- and more so than most.
Of course, once things were in motion, she had nothing but questions for all of us. She was disappointed at how many questions Rosehips answered with, “Classified information.” She didn’t get much more out of Snowflake, although the alien did allow Twilight to see her hand, which she said was exactly like the ones she’d seen before. She said I’d have to ask you about that, princess, which is fair, since I told her the same thing when she asked what caused Corralled Space and Orions. Could I request you make that soon? Since these events I’ve already received two letters from her familiar Spike pushing for answers, all of which would have to be, “Spring Sunshine.”
I got her autograph. Twice. “Twilight Sparkle” and “The Mysterious Mare-Do-Well #3.” She said I’d have to make separate arrangements for #1 and #2. Is there a franchise or something? If so, don’t tell my little sister, or she’ll make that her choice for Career Day at school.
In any case, the preparations were well in hoof by the time we saw the Rosehips and Green Arbor native to that time walking back towards the train depot. “Remember,” I told Twilight Sparkle, “camp it up. Sunshine likes the really cheesy superhero dialog. Follow Green Arbor- I mean Red Hero’s lead.” Green Arbor was already suited up, as were the Herd of Heroes.
“I think I can handle it,” Twilight said. “If I get stumped I’ll just pretend I’m Rarity or Rainbow Dash.”
As soon as Corralled Space opened we formed a chain of hooves with Green Arbor, and he guided us across the boundary between the real world and Sunshine’s shadow world. Rosehips, Snowflake and I watched from a relatively safe distance as the battle went exactly as it had when I first witnessed it, and we met up again with the heroes as they dropped from the rooftops to the alleyways of Ponyville just before Corralled Space collapsed.
“Thank you very much again,” Green Arbor was saying, already removing his costume.
“Think nothing of it!” Twilight said, removing hers. “That was really easy! Nothing like as bad as dealing with an ursa minor or a Cerberus!”
“Trust us, other times it’s much harder- especially when there’s two or three of them. Then they aren’t so talkative.”
“You’d know best,” Twilight Sparkle shrugged. “I’m still looking forward to the explanation of why this happens, though!”
“Apply to him,” Green Arbor said, pointing to me. “I am merely a part time hero. He is the one with the true courage among us.”
Of course I am. I’m the only one willing to say no to Spring Sunshine to her face.
After exchanged promises to keep each other’s secrets we parted, the rest of the Herd of Heroes following Twilight Sparkle so they could be teleported back to Canterlot. Only after they had gone did I make a horrible realization. “We forgot to get a replacement egg!” I shouted.
“The letter told Princess Celestia not to send us one,” Snowflake murmured.
“I thought that meant we were going to get one while we were in the past! But with the crowd earlier, and then the preparation for the battle, it totally slipped my mind! And now we’re back where we were when this happened the first time- no egg and no place to get one!”
Gloom settled in over us. Sure, we’d completed the closed loop- this one, anyway, even if a second closed loop had been created in the process. But we still had the same problem, the same conundrum. If we hadn’t got the replacement egg in the past, why did future me tell you, my princess, not to send a replacement egg from Canterlot?
We had no answers, and we had to go. As Snowflake pointed out, any unnecessary minute spent in the past risked one of our past selves catching a glimpse of us, creating a new paradox- since, of course, none of us remembered seeing ourselves. We huddled next to Rosehips again and closed our eyes, and the indescribable disorientation of time travel took us again. When we opened our eyes again, the Ponyville town clock was striking five, and Luna’s moon was lowering in the western skies.
And when we stepped out of the alleyway we saw a jackelope.
The rabbit had all the features of a normal rabbit plus a tiny but fully formed set of antlers- doubly strange, I thought, since springtime is long after antlers get shed by those creatures which have them. It ignored us completely, hopping down the street, then jumping up to a ground-floor window and pushing it open, slipping its little body inside.
When we got out to the town square we saw dozens of them. Brown jackelopes, white jackelopes, spotted jackelopes, some bucks, some does, some carrying baskets, some not. Each was moving from house to house, shop to shop at random, climbing in and out of windows, apparently disturbing nobody whatever.
Except for one, standing in the dead center of the town square, tapping its foot impatiently and staring directly at us. This jackelope had hair on its head, two ribbons tied in it, one on either side of its head, much in the same way Spring Sunshine kept her mane.
This jackelope gestured to us to follow, and we did, walking straight down a street we knew quite well at this point. In a minute or two we were standing beside Derpy Hooves’ house, where another jackelope was just about to enter by a side window.
The Sunshine-jackelope grabbed the hind leg of the other jackelope and pulled it back down. Once on the ground the two had a brief but heated discussion, gesturing to the house, to each other, to parts unknown. Finally the regular jackelope shrugged, nodded its head, and went hopping off to another cottage across the street, leaving the Sunshine-jackelope in possession of the territory.
This done, the Sunshine-jackelope looked angrily at me, obviously expecting something. Then I remembered: the regular jackelope had been going in by the ground floor, but Sunshine had declared that the SOS Brigade would put the replacement egg in Dinky’s very own hooves. For this jackelope, ground floor entry would not be acceptable.
I was tired as hell; no sleep in thirty-six hours, by my personal clock, and no sleep expected any time soon. But I was the only pegasus in the group, so of course “up” was my job. I bent down, allowed the jackelope to sit on my back, and flapped my wings, rising up effortlessly to hover by the second story window. I could see a little bed through it, on which mother and daughter cuddled happily.
The jackelope opened the window without ceremony, hopped over to the bed, and held out its forepaws in front of it. Magic glowed between those paws, and then the largest, most elaborately decorated and carved All Flowers Festival egg appeared between those paws, half-wrapped in foil and colored paper. Nodding with satisfaction, the jackelope picked up the egg, set it carefully next to little Dinky, and then hopped off the bed and back to the window.
I lowered the two of us back to the ground, where the other waited, watching. As soon as I landed the jackelope was off my back and on the ground, hopping away. About twenty yards away it stopped, raised up, and turned back around, hopping energetically towards us.
Were we about to get a thank-you from Spring Sunshine the Flower Hare? For that matter, did we want one? I hoped above all things that, whatever else happened, she remembered none of this when she woke up.
First the Sunshine-jackalope faced Green Arbor, spreading her paws. An egg, not as elaborate as the one given to Dinky Hooves but still quite nice, appeared, and she pushed it towards him. “Thank you,” he said politely.
Next came Rosehips, who watched with fear and wonder as the substitute Flower Hare produced and gave her not an egg, but a small basket. Among the straw and flowers in the basket lay some small boxes of tea- very expensive brands from distant lands, I noticed.
What the jackelope produced for Snowflake will haunt my nightmares. Instead of an egg or a basket she produced a small stack of boxes. Inside the boxes were double rows of brightly colored sugar-covered marshmallows… each shaped like a bunny or a bird. What kind of sick mind would come up with the notion of a pony eating something shaped like another living animal? I was about to complain when I saw a tiny glint in the otherwise eternally expressionless face of the transformed alien… and was that a tear coming from one eye? Not from Snowflake, surely not.
“Thank you very much,” she said.
I suppose those marshmallow things were a delicacy from the world of humans. I seldom considered how much Snowflake might have missed her home, having been sent here to observe the strange power originating from this dimension. If I were as far away from Canterlot as she was from Earth or wherever her home was, something from home would move me to tears, too.
But… edible animals? Could I be spared the thought of that, please?
Then the jackelope turned to face me, its face looking thoughtful. What would I get? A chocolate egg? A flower? A gift in a basket? Dared I hope, an answer sheet for my next exam?
What I got was a chocolate crème egg. And I got it right between the eyes. Runny syrup yolk ran down my muzzle and seeped into the bangs of my mane.
For the first time the jackelope made a sound; a high-pitched rapid giggle, as it held its sides, rolled onto its back, and vanished.
All the jackelopes had vanished. The first light of Celestia’s dawn- your dawn, my princess- was creeping into the night sky.
I used a wingtip to wipe some of the crème egg off my face and into my mouth. It wasn’t bad. “I’m tired,” I said. “Let’s go to bed.”
We got into the inn without making a sound- or at least, not a sound until Rosehips opened the door to the girls’ room and gasped. “Shiny, look quick!”
Green Arbor and I got to the doorway just in time to glimpse one last jackelope working its way up to the windowsill. It glanced at us, waved a paw, and vanished. On the bed, Spring Sunshine was still asleep, her forehooves wrapped around a small colorful basket with five small colorful candy eggs set on the hay inside.
Sunshine was insufferable the next morning. Granted, part of that was because I had maybe two hours sleep at most before she kicked us all out of bed again. “I can’t believe you let me miss the Flower Hare!” she shouted. “Punishment for everybody! I won’t be lenient with this penalty, believe it!”
I settled up with the innkeeper, no matter how much I wanted to crawl back into that bed, and we stumbled out into the bright sunshine of All Flowers Sunday. The street was crowded with ponies, especially with foals and fillies running around to show off what the Flower Hare had brought them. Between the noise, the rapidly moving young ponies, and my sleep deprivation, I got a little disoriented, and before I knew it bells were ringing in my head and the ground was hugging me like a long lost friend.
I’d run face-first into a lantern post.
“You should be more careful,” a familiar voice said. “Are you all right?”
It was Derpy Hooves. As I picked myself up off the ground, she squinted slightly, her googly eyes straightening briefly, and her face lit up. “It’s you!” she said gleefully. “How did you DO it? It’s even better than an Ace and Crème! I didn’t know ponies could even MAKE eggs this beautiful!”
Beside her- but not too close, the filly obviously knew her mother- Ditzy was holding her chocolate egg on her back, a touch of unicorn magic helping. “I’m gonna have a picture done of it!” she said. “I don’t wanna eat it until I have a picture, so I can remember this bestest All Flowers Festival forever an’ ever!”
Spring Sunshine stepped forward beside me, smiling confidently. “I knew the Flower Hare wouldn’t let you down!” she said. “Not such a wonderful filly and loving mother! And what the SOS Brigade promises, the SOS Brigade delivers!”
Oh, brother. You didn’t want to do this in the first place, and yet you’re taking the credit?
“Thank you very much!” Derpy Hooves said, and we waved to the mother and daughter as they walked on through the festive morning streets. I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relaxation. Aside from one more brief trip through time to leave that letter where I could find it and send it to you, everything seemed wrapped up. No paradoxes, happy family, and the mystery of the Flower Hare solved… at least, to my satisfaction if not Sunshine’s.
My thoughts were these: last year, the Flower Hare was a myth, a story made up to encourage good behavior and to allow parents the fun of giving special presents to their children.
This year, the Flower Hare is real, and there are hundreds of them. Possibly thousands, if they turned up other places than Ponyville.
And next year, I’m sure, the Flower Hare and all his or her kin will turn up yet again, and a lot of fillies and foals will end up getting two or even three eggs instead of the one that was the old tradition- because parents will still want to do the gift-giving, no matter what Spring Sunshine’s powers do with the rest of the world. Snowflake probably has the power to undo the change, but I haven't asked, and I won't, because it would just be too cruel.
As annoying as Sunshine is from time to time, I’m pretty glad it turned out this way, on balance.
Then I saw a foal point to Rosehips and say, “Hey, look! Isn’t that the mare who was dressed as the Flower Hare yesterday?”
I looked beside me into the angry glare of Spring Sunshine. “Shiny, what have you been doing behind my back?” she asked, as if I had been wearing the costume instead of Rosehips.
It took a lot of talking which I won’t bore you with, princess, but when it came time to board the train back to Canterlot that afternoon we’d convinced the town, and almost convinced Sunshine, that it was a coincidence, a similar but not identical filly. She was still threatening dire penalties when the SOS Brigade got back to Canterlot, though.
On the train, the slow rocking and steady clacking sound of the cars on the tracks sent the other members of the Brigade- who had exactly as little sleep as I had- straight into Luna’s realms. I stayed awake, though, because I’d thought of something, and I needed to put it into Sunshine’s head before we got back home. I needed to wait for the right moment, though, when she’d be at her most receptive.
I waited until I saw her leaning against the train car’s windowsill, head on one hoof, staring out at the passing countryside.
“I’ve been thinking,” I began, “about the Flower Hare. It seems absurd that one rabbit would be able to visit every single home in Equestria on a single night, doesn’t it?”
“Magic,” Sunshine muttered, not moving her head from the window.
“But there’s something even more absurd than that,” I continued. “That’s the idea that there’s only one Flower Hare. There’s no such thing as an animal with only one example, except for magical constructs. And only one rabbit? Considering how famous they are for breeding? That’s preposterous.”
Sunshine’s ears perked up through her mane.
“So if there is a Flower Hare,” I pressed on, “there are a lot of Flower Hares. Male and female. All of them visiting ponies on the night before All Flowers Sunday. Each hare would only have to visit a few houses. That way makes much more sense.”
“You’re just guessing,” Sunshine said. “You don’t have any proof. We could have asked a Flower Hare ourselves, but you let us sleep in.” After a moment she sighed, lifted herself from the window and sat back on the train bench. “But it’s not a bad guess. It feels right. Yes, Shiny, that’s a good theory.” A trace of a smile crept back onto her lips. “It’s so good that I may not levy that penalty on you when we get back. You’ll only have to treat us all to lunch.”
Which is what I do every time we do one of these things. Thank you, parents, and thank you, my princess, for replenishing my poor, beaten wallet.
“But your theory makes MUCH more sense if we apply it to Canter Claus!” A bit of energy was coming into Sunshine’s face, and her eyes had that gleam in them that invariably made my heart sink. Some lunatic scheme had taken over her brain yet again. “And come Hearth’s Warming Eve we’ll prove it, once and for all!”
You can’t possibly be planning to capture a Canter Claus.
“Capture is too easy.” Sunshine broke into full manic grin. “We’re going to INFILTRATE the Canter Clauses!”
Hearth’s Warming Eve is only eight months away. Is it too much to ask, Princess Celestia, that you reveal Spring Sunshine’s true nature to her before then? I don’t think Equestria can deal with an army of gift-giving ponies on top of the magical horned rabbits.
As ever,
Your faithful subject,
Brilliant Starshine
(P. S. When I got to my room I found an Ace & Crème deluxe festival egg on my bed, untouched. My parents say they know nothing about it and that my sister ate the one they got for me. Do you know anything about this? Considering the events related above, I would prefer not to have to guess. – Brilliant Starshine)