The Diary of a Prisoner
Twilight had taken stock of her library's wreckage. Not many books had survived, most burnt to a crisp or completely shredded. Perhaps she should have traded those books away at the exchange;then, they may have been enjoyed for many years to come. However, the crystalline tree-castle that had taken its place was equipped with library space of its very own, though no books were supplied by the Tree of Harmony. With the aid of her friends, Twilight had spent the better part of the last week transferring tomes from the Castle of the Two Sister (only the safe ones of course) to her freshly forged shelves, as well as stocking some more common volumes donated by Celestia and the various citizens of Ponyville. Pinkie had even given her a house warming present: a much scaled down version of the Cake's now famous Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness. Slowly, Twilight's new home was becoming... homier.
But there was an oddity about this place that perplexed Twilight. As she laid in her bed at night, she could her odd scampering and thumping sounds. When she woke in the morning, she would find small amounts of food missing from the pantry, and occasionally who meals. At first she might have suspected mice or rats, but Owlowiscious was a diligent pest controller, and a visit from Fluttershy soon confirmed that no scavengers lurked within the walls. Things only got stranger from there. She would find the entire consents of her silverware drawer stacked into a shimmering stainless steel tower on the table, and any pasta she might have had repurposed for macaroni mosaics. One day, she awoke to find Pinkie's house warming present with a portrait of a cringing monkey drawn on it with ketchup. The cake was good once to top had been chopped off. Twilight tried to give Discord the benefit of the doubt. She'd given him her trust, and he was trying hard to keep it. But eventually, Twilight questioned Discord, and he claimed no knowledge of the pranks, and even went so far as to claim he felt no magic within the halls of Twilight's castle. How could that be possible. Twilight had only read of one with the skill to do such things without magic, and he was imprisoned in Tartarus over 500 years ago. Suddenly, a new fear gripped Twilight, and she gathered quill and paper immediately.
***
Day of Freedom 438
I have finally reached Ponyville after over a year of travel. After all the fuss that has been made over this "Princess Twilight Sparkle" I hope it will not take me more than a few days to reach her castle. Apparently all of those rumors about the humble Princess living in a library were a load of pollen puss. Still, seeing the castle does renew my hope that this princess is real. I was trying not to admit it, but I was beginning to despair that all of this work was for nothing. It suppose it still might be, if Twilight isn't the reasonable sort. Or if she contacts Celestia. I fooled her once, but I doubt I can again.
***
Unbeknownst to Twilight, in the corner of the room, an uninvited visitor looked on in horror as she wrote down her note to the Princess. She could be forgiven for not noticing him; he wasn't all that big, maybe the size of a large marble. And he was panicking. He was certain that letter was about him. He was certain that Celestia would arrive inside of hours. He was certain he would never escape in time. He was certain that he was doomed to return to Tartarus for all eternity.
"Relax, she's writing about me." spoke a soft voice from the rafters. There, the uninvited guest saw a furry red tail wrapped around a crystal beam stretching across the pantry's roof. "She's fun to mess with, but I guess the chickens have come home to roost." A furry hand emerged just long enough to drop the core of an apple to the floor, nearly crushing the guest in the process. A soft giggle echoed off the walls, as the guest glaring into murky shadows concealing his assailant. "I better get going, though, I suppose that isn't an option for you." With that, a red furred monkey swung from the shadows, hanging by his tail as he grinned playfully down at the marble sized denizen of the corner. "So, what brings a Breezie here?"
***
October 14th, Year of Harmony 438
This will be my final journal entry. As this is the last day of my life, I thought it only right to transcribe a reflection on my existence up until now.
I was born in a small Breezie village called Bastion, to a mother named Sky Lark and a father I never met. It wasn't because he was irresponsible or abandoned us; he was the leader of the pollen expedition the year I was born, and didn't return. His name was Endless Charge. Bastion was a sleepy town, populated by not more than a few hundred Breezies. It was a very family and community oriented place. Who knows what I might have become had I stayed.
My childhood was the happiest time of my life, though I won't rule out that it's only nostalgia. I don't remember any abuse or haunting memories like I've heard out of so many other prisoners of Tartarus. I remember playing Seed Ball with Clear and Sprout, my two best friends. I remember eating the petals of Breeze Flowers with my mother. I remember going to school with the eccentric teacher Turtle Dove. I remember being scolded for snacking on fresh pollen, a choice that later punished me in its own way. I remember the most typical, boring and saccharine childhood possible. Perhaps that's why I remember it so fondly.
Never the less, eventually I was called to carry the pollen from the Western Equestria Breeze Flowers like every other Breezie. The one unique feature of Bastion, was that it was the only Breezie village in Equestria, rather than the Breezie realm. It was in Western Equestria as well, so we didn't have all that far to travel. Still, it was a terrifying thing for a young Breezie. Thankfully, I had Clear and Sprout at my side, and the three of us joked our way all the way to the Flower Fields.
Just in case the reader of this is not a Breezie, I feel that, for the sake of context, I should inform you that Equestrian Breeze Flowers cannot be cultivated by Breezies, and Breezie Breeze Flowers cannot be cultivated by ponies. All Equestrian Breeze Flowers are male, and all Breezie Breeze Flowers are female. Part of the purpose of Bastion was to provide Equestria with a steady supply of male Breeze Flower Seeds, so that Breezies from all over the world could collect their pollen for their own flower gardens. You haven't lived until you've tasted a Breeze Flower Petal, and there are few other things Breezies can effectively farm.
We collected our pollen and prepared for our return, a handful of pegasi escorting us. But sadly, we did not anticipate the insects that lurked among the flowers. Clear was easily distracted, and soon found himself drawn to a glimmering bead of dew that seemed to be hovering in mid air. However, when he went to investigate, he found himself trapped by near invisible silken threads. We, in turn, attempted to free him, but found ourselves bound by the sticky spider web. We saw the eight legged beast carefully picking its way up the web, preparing to trap us in cocoons of silk and drains us of our fluids. I don't think I've mentioned yet that Sprout was very strong, but we would have been dead if not for that strength. He rocked and shook and wrenched us free of the web, sending us hurtling down towards the ascending spider. I happened to be the one who struck it, knocking it clear of the web with us. When we arose, we found that we could not fly, and that our voices were too quiet to be heard by the retreating Breezies. And that the spider was pissed. Our wings tangled in mangled webbing, we fled on foot, headed off at every turn by a new insectoid horror ready to make us lunch. Finally, the spider glanced me with one of its fangs, and I felt the effects of its venom immediately. It was a terrible burning sensation quickly wrapping itself around my whole body. I felt sick to my stomach, feverish, and racked with horrible chills all at once. My sight began to fade and my breathing became labored. All I remember after that was lying in a blind, heaving mess upon the earth, knowing I was going to die.
When I awoke, Clear told me that a week had passed. Beside him laid Sprout, covered in half healed gashes and bruises, haphazardly cloaked in makeshift leaf bandages. Apparently, after I passed out, Sprout had had enough. He turned and fought the spider, receiving only a few bruises before the spider turned and fled. He then had guarded Clear as he carried me out of the forest of flowers, barely surviving a mantis attack near the end. Clear had been caring for us both since then, managing to drag us to a nearby pony town. Right now, we were sheltered in the roots of a tree at the edge of town. Clear was too tired at the moment to go into town and ask a pony for shelter. I didn't have the energy either, and Sprout was seldom moved outside the gentle rise and fall of his chest. We slept there for the next three days.
Once he had the strength, and cleaned the spider webs out of his wings, Clear ventured into town for help. He found some, in the form of a friendly earth pony named Freight. Freight was more than happy to escort us to our village, and asked if he might have a taste of some Breeze flowers once we got there. We agreed, and the four of us set off in the direction of our village.
Or, what we thought was the direction of our village. As it turns out, the escape had left us completely disoriented, and we had no idea where the village might be. Freight kept us from despairing, offering to take us to the next town over to ask for direction. But this turned out to be a fruitless effort. While many knew of the Breezies, and had seen them gathering pollen, none could claim to know the location of Bastion. Few even knew that there was a Breezie village in Equestria. Freight took us to a few more villages, but the results were the same. Soon, even Freight grew weary, and told us to perhaps stay with him until next year's pollen gathering. Clear and Sprout didn't like the idea very much, but they were ready to agree. I, however, was not, and broached a handful of new avenues to find Bastion. Freight wasn't too keen on it, but he helped anyway. Selfless stallion.
From the Breeze Flower patch to the rainbow tinted shadow of Cloudsdale, we traveled up and down the Unicorn Mountains, searching for any clue as to the location of Bastion. Freight was growing more irritable by the day, the constant journey wearing on him more than any of the others. I soon developed a talent for mollifying Freight as the weeks dragged on with no end in sight. However, eventually, soon after investigating our sixteenth dead end, Freight snapped. Granted, Freight was a good a friendly pony, so even his snapping was courteous and well reasoned, just extremely firm. But I wasn't ready to give up. I put my talents to the test and successfully argued down my friend, using just as much manipulation as actual arguing. And so began my decent to where I am now.
It didn't take me long to start plying this talent elsewhere. In every town we traveled to, I made them want to tell me where my village was. Still, no one knew its actual location, but I gained so many new leads in each town we visited. It took over a month before I was able to gain some solid information, the whole time, practicing my trade. By then, even my well chosen words were only staving off the collapse of this expedition party. Freight was at his limit, and Clear and Sprout were feeling sympathetic for him. Not that I was unsympathetic, but I was so close I could taste the flowers of home. We did find out what we needed to know, from an old barpony who used to make a special ale from the petal of the Breeze Flower.
Finally, we made it home, thanking Freight for his help and loading him down with a whole basket of Breeze Flowers, requesting that he come back any time he wanted to. There was much made of our return. Parties were thrown, gifts were given, loved ones offered praise and love so filled with emotion everyone was on the verge of crying. My nephew even wrote me a poem. That wasn't the happiest day of my life, that belongs somewhere in my childhood, but it was the most warmth I had ever felt.
But that wasn't to last. While Clear and Sprout were able to reintegrate fairly easily, thought Clear needed therapy and Sprout got in a few fights, I didn't slip back into my old quite so well. It wasn't a conscious effort, it was rather accidental. When out in the world, I would sweet talk and manipulate my way out of every situation, so much so that it became my default for dealing with problems. I could talk the shell off a walnut, and every time an argument would arise, I would always win, using an equal measure of logic, vocabulary and lies. I didn't like lying, especially to people I liked, but I hardly ever noticed it until I walked way with their life savings. And the village didn't like my lying, thinking me a selfish punk. I made an effort to stop, but the whole of Bastion was no longer complacent in my attempt to train myself, worried that I might talk them into electing me emperor.
I left Bastion after only two months back. I left my friends, whom tried to help me undue the damage. I left my mother, whom never blamed me, whom always saw the best in me. I left Turtle Dove, who tried to have me convince the mayor into giving him a larger grant. (I remember that fondly, since he was the only one who liked to new me) I left everyone who loved me. I'm sorry to you all, if any of you ever read this.
I heard that Clear is now an author, channeling his trauma into inspiration, and that Sprout is now a rather sensational painter, using it as an outlet for his anger. Good luck to the both of you.
I spent the next few years travelling from town to town, jumping from guide to guide, slowly accruing resources and scamming other for their Bits. Back then I thought I was just taking what I was owed, but I was just bitter. After the better part of a decade, I had the money to buy an estate at the foot of the Canterlot Mountain. It didn't fill much. I don't really know what I wanted. Revenge?Purpose? Friends? I'm still not sure, but after a while, I managed to get my hooves on a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala, and prepared a plan I'm still not sure how I was capable of.
In three weeks time, I went to the Gala, dressing in the finest attire, enchanted to amplify my voice. I also had a few other charms: one to prevent me being stepped on, one to project an illusion of a much taller me, and one to allow me to glide without a breeze. I didn't want to take all night just to reach the dance floor. Canterlot Castle was magnificent, a testimony to the importance of this night and of the pony who lived within it. After the opening ceremonies, I mingled with all of the aristocrats and royals, slowing gaining an understanding of the culture. Finally, I was confident enough to enact my plan. I sought out the wealth and entrepreneurial striking up wonderful conversations with them, convincing them that I wanted what was in their best interest, before proposing a business deal, which involved the development of mine facilities in the Unicorn Mountains. I wasn't able to convince all of them, not enough practice at dealing with nobles I guess, but I was ready for the final proposal.
I was not the first to approach Celestia that night, nor would I be the last, but I was thankful that she never turned down a conversation. We talked for hours, getting to know each other and discussing recent events. It was pleasant, even while I was calculating my approach, the Princess just has this air about her, like her mere presence brings joy to those around her. For once, I didn't want to progress, lest I lose the chance become friends with such a wonderful pony. But I did. I seamlessly shifted the conversation into a heavily doctored recounting of my banishment, and I could feel the sympathy coming off of her in warm, comforting waves. Now for the kill.
I asked her for permission to transplant the Breeze Flowers and dig for coal and gems in their spot in the Unicorn Mountains. At first she was afraid that I was trying to get revenge, but I managed to convince her that I wanted to move them closer to my village, so that none would have to endure my struggles. She was touched, and after a few loving references to Luna and the night sky, I had Celestia, the Princess, eating out of my hand. She agreed and my plan was set.
I did transplant the flowers... into an incinerator. The mine was built where it had stood, rather unexpectedly discovering a treasure trove of diamonds and coal. It looked as if I would get rich in addition to getting vengeance. I reveled in it when the Breezies came that year, discovering that their food supply had been burnt to cinders, mocking them as they left sullen and empty saddled. It was immensely satisfying. It would have been the happiest day of my life if I didn't have the benefit of hindsight as I wrote this.
Celestia soon discovered the truth. A glitch in my plan, but I was fairly single minded back then. Celestia demanded the mine dismantled and the flowers replanted, such was not meant to be. The mine was filling the pockets of the Canterlot elite with Bits of such quantity that the closing of the mine would infuriate every one of them. Beyond that, the run off from the mine, which I had been purposefully disposing of improperly, had poisoned the nearby landscape, reaching as far as the outskirts of Bastion. The flowers could not be replanted and the mine could not be dismantled. Checkmate. I told her as much, much more smugly than I should have. Celestia mistook me for the same kind of monster as Discord or Tirek, and I honestly can't blame her. She banished me to Tartarus, sentencing me to carry a satchel of pollen up a hill for all eternity, with every rest sending the pollen rolling down to the bottom of the hill.
I learned of the rest through the newspapers I am allowed once a week. Celestia replanted the Breeze Flowers much nearer the coast, so as to avoid the poisoned earth. She also had to sent the village of Bastion back to the Breezie realm, as the corruption was beginning to kill off their flowers. Finally, she implemented a new tax on mining and fabrication, as a passive aggressive jab at the nobles whom supported me. She did her best to repair the damage I did.
It has been over a year since then, and I have tried to conceive of an escape from every possible angle, but I cannot. I have given up hope, and so this is my last entry. I suppose you could say I've reached the acceptance stage, and can finally see my action for what they were. I am sorry to all those I have wronged. Especially you father. I don't think I've mentioned that I was named after him. He came from a far away country, which spoke what many thought a long dead language. My name, when roughly translated, means Endless Charge in that language. I am sorry to have shamed your name and your legacy, father. Please forgive me.
Repentant and Resigned,
Sisyphus
***
"Interesting" the red furred monkey said, scratching his chin.
"Huh"
"Oh, I just read your memories. Interesting stuff; you should publish those memoirs" With that, he swung from the rafter and grabbed a fresh apple from the basket.
"Read my..." Sisyphus was confounded for a moment, before he remembered where he had spent the last five centuries, "oh, you're from Tartarus as well"
"Yup" The monkey cheerily replied "I snuck into the Royal Peach Garden and ate every last one the day before the royal peach feast" He threw the entire apple down his throat, barely chewing before swallowing it, core and all. "I was thrown into Tartarus at the request of a very pissed off baker" His smile was off-puttingly honest, like it didn't belong to one who had spent five minutes in Tartarus, let alone years.
"I'll believe that when Celestia actually commissions a Royal Peach Garden" Sisyphus replied with just the right degree of sarcasm.
"Ah, sharp one you are" the monkey said as he rummaged though the apple basket, stuffing his face, "Can't let you too close." He swallowed, "Well, I gotta get going before the Princess remember 42 prisoners escaped besides Tirek" He hopped up to the window. "Be seeing ya"
"Wait," He did, with that same playful smile, "I can't get out of here on my own, would you mind at all carrying me until we get somewhere..." I glanced around, "less about to be ransacked by a Sun God"
The monkey looked contemplatively down at the Breezie, grinning like a child. Finally, he let out a bellowing laugh to rival the Royal Canterlot Voice.
"Oh, I'm probably gonna regret this, but your a riot." He hopped down and scooped up Sisyphus. "You can stay with me 'til you stop being funny, deal?" He extended his furry little paw into the face of the tan colored Breezie in his other hand.
Said Breezie smiled, "Deal, Psychotic, ESPrimate" Sisyphus replied, jamming his hoof into the monkey's outstretched paw.
They shook hands... er, hooves... paws? They shook. "Eh, Don't push your luck there" With that, the monkey and and the Breezie absconded from the castle ask Twilight burned the letter in Spike's dragonfire. In no time at all, they reached the edge of town, Sisyphus cradled in the monkey's paw.
"So, what's your story"
"Eh, for another time." The monkey cheekily replied, "I've seen your memoirs; Not too sure if I wanna be spilling those beans 'til you've saved me from at least three fires"
"Fair enough" Sisyphus conceded. "Can I ask your name"
The monkey smiled... er, continued to smile... he was fine with this question, "Call me Monkey, everyone else does"
"But that's what I've been calling you in my head" Sisyphus whined.
"Ha, then it shouldn't be too much of a stretch." Monkey placed Sisyphus on his back, "Come, let us go raid the Royal Peach Garden"
"I'll have to convince them to build one first" Sisyphus answered.
"Then do so with gusto!" Monkey laughed.
And so they went off giggling through the trees, a plan in motion to steal fruits that don't exist from those who hunted them.