Lyra vs. Goldfish

by Corejo

First published

Lyra eats a Goldfish, and other silly mini-fics/poems.

Goldfish. The snack that smiles back. But why? What lies behind their sinister smiles?


[A collection of ~300 word shortfics, because my brain has too much pony. Cover art by Conicer]

Lyra vs. Goldfish

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Lyra Vs. Goldfish

A red ceramic bowl full of orange crackers sat on the living room table. The box they came in claimed they smiled back, but that would have required her to be smiling in the first place. Instead, Lyra frowned in distrust. There was something fishy about them. She poked one with her hoof.

“Oh, come on,” Bon Bon said. “Just try one. They’re not gonna kill you.”

“How do you know?” Lyra replied.

Bon Bon sighed. She reached over, scooped up a hoofful, and popped them in her mouth, giving a flaunt as if to say ‘I told you so.’

Lyra rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to see or hear any of it. There was something sinister behind those smiles. Anything excited to be eaten wasn’t trustworthy.

“You and your conspiracy theories...” Bon Bon sighed. “You need help.”

Lyra brushed off her friend’s remark. They were up to something. She was sure of it. World domination? Foalhood obesity? A bad tummy ache? They looked so innocent, but she knew better.

Bon Bon groaned. “For Celestia’s sake, just try one!” She shoved the bowl in Lyra’s face.

Eyes wide, Lyra reared back, falling out of her chair with a loud thump. “What’s wrong with you!? Are you trying to poison me!?”

Bon Bon set the bowl on the table and sighed into a facehoof. “Just eat one... please?”

Lyra sat up, giving Bon Bon a wary eye, then the bowl. The crackers smiled up at her as they had before. Eyes narrowed, she sniffed them carefully. A bit of cheese. A hint of salt. A tad burnt.

Cautiously, she picked one up, scrutinizing it. Satisfied with no outward dangers, she tossed it in her mouth and chewed with discrimination.

Allergic? Poisonous? Deadly? She swallowed the morsel.

Delicious.

The Beast

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Hot. Humid.

Ferns shot up from the dark earth, choking the jungle’s underbrush. The lush smell of rainfall mingled with that of the dirt as the beast crawled low to the earth. A waterfall roared just beyond the thicket, where he knew his prey rested, unsuspecting.

Leaves tickled his backside, and a mosquito landed on his ear, but predatory instinct overpowered the urge to swat away the nuisance. The beast was no stranger to discipline.

Nose touched the concealing flora, and eyes pierced its maze of shoots. Left to right, from the waterfall to the far end of the tranquil pool it filled, his gaze swept, searching for his prey. Nothing yet. Patience. It’s here somewhere.

A croak to the left. The beast’s eyes shifted, and he saw the terrible, warted form of his prey, camouflaged on the rocky shore.

Ignoring the itch in his ear, the beast crept around the massive fern to get as close as possible in concealment. Step by step. Inch by inch. Slowly. Slowly.

Nearly face to face, his prey sat languidly by the waterfront. The beast grinned.

Quick as lightning, he leapt from the bushes, roaring his impending triumph. But his prey dodged effortlessly, and his eyes widened in disbelief before faceplanting into the gravel. A perfect ten.

Tyco, dinner's ready!”

Tyco sat up to his haunches and rubbed his face with his hooves. To his left, the frog looked up at him. It let out a loud croak before hopping into the pond and disappearing into its depths.

Tyco glowered at the waves it produced. Stupid frogs.

“Tycoooo!”

He scratched his ear and stood to follow the voice. “Coming, mom!”

My Dad the Wonderbolt

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My Dad the Wonderbolt

“I never told you about that one?” my dad asked me as we walked down the hall to my room. I was sitting on his back like I always did whenever we came home from the Junior Speedsters Track and Flight meets.

“Uh uh,” I said.

“Oh, I thought I did.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “You sure, Scoot? I coulda sworn I’ve told you that one before.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure.” I was lying, and I know lying is bad, but it was my favorite story of all the ones he’s ever told me. He probably knew I was since he never forgets anything, but I think he liked telling it so much that he didn’t care I lied.

I have the best dad in all of Equestria.

“Well let’s get you in bed first. You’ve been up all day.”

He opened the door to my room. It was kind of dark because the sun was setting. He walked over to my bed and put his wing out. I slid down it onto my bed. That was always a lot of fun. I think he thought so too because he laughed.

I laid down in my bed, and he pulled the sheets up over me and tucked me in. I gave him the biggest smile I ever have, and he grinned at me.

“I’ve told you this one,” he said. He ruffled my mane.

I giggled. “So? It’s my favorite!”

He laughed. “I’m sure it is! So you want to hear it again?”

“Uh huh!” I nodded my head like crazy.

My dad laughed again and gave me a big smile. “Alright.” He took a deep breath like he always does before he tells me a bedtime story. “Now... where do I begin?”

Labyrinth

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Labyrinth

Twilight opened her eyes. Monolithic slabs of stone rose into darkness on all sides save a large archway standing before her, where a faint ambient glow seemed to filter in. A light mist concealed the ground beneath her hooves. It was cold.

Where am I?

A light flashed in the distance. What was that? She rose from her haunches and took a step forward. Something clanked beneath her. Hundreds of intricately connected, concentric metal rings lay at her hooves, the outermost barely larger than her hoof in diameter. Worn runes covered their rusted surfaces. A map? She lifted it from its setting and placed it in her saddlebag. It would undoubtedly be useful later.

She gave the room one last glance. There was something wrong about it, something unnatural. A quick trot out of there felt like the best solution, but it was short lived.

A shiver worked its way up her spine as she crossed the threshold. She was on the peak of an underground mountain and could see for miles. Every inch of the subterranean world was a maze. The ground. The walls. The ceiling. Tiers upon tiers rose above one another, choking themselves with complexity. No crevice was spared from its twists and turns.

Far in the distance, in the center of the world, loomed her goal: a pillar of stone that spanned the void, a monstrous sight even from her vantage point.

Twilight’s ears fell back against her head, and she gulped. A maze this size could take years, even centuries to navigate. She bit her lip, but then stamped her hoof.

Just take the first step...

And the first step she took.

The Train

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The Train

Help me! Help me! I implore!
My plea, my cry, please don’t ignore!

In my thoughts and in my brain:
Ponies raging like a train.

I attest they’re sounding, sounding
One request that’s pounding, pounding
Pounding from my head and heart;
Toward my hands, they make their start.

Slowly, slowly, can you hear
That chugging, chugging noise I fear?
“Write us! Write us!” do they cry,
Shout, and holler to the sky.
“Write us! Write us!” Steam and steel
Echoes maddeningly real.
“Write us! Write us!” Fear is growing;
Palms of sweat, conscience groaning.
“Write us! Write us!” Faster! Faster!
Who here is the Lord and Master?

“Write us! Write us!” Will is broken.
“Write us! Write us!” Naught is spoken.

Fingers itch, and keyboard clacks
Like the clicking of the tracks.
Beads upon my fettered brow
Call to mind what little now
I have here left, the time I keep.
For my soul I duly weep.

And to the daring, wand’ring eye,
I say to you: Please quickly fly!
Wander here no more, should you;
Wander-else, this cess don’t stew.
You built me up, then broke me down
With what I wear: your misplaced crown.

Colorful you are no more,
Demented train that I abhor.
Your passengers, oh, Scootaloo!
Twilight Sparkle. Rainbow, too!

And all the rest, the train does carry
Those my mind, unending, harry,
Following their leader there,
With dark-red eyes and smoke-black hair.
With charcoal grin of unearned fame,
I, myself, conduct the train.

Closer, closer do I hear?
Their train, it comes so very near
To where I lay all bound in rope,
Crying, praying with all hope.
But instead they drag me down
With my sin: your misplaced crown.

Hellbound now in sanguine bath,
The train-grill roars my epitaph.

Yet Hope, In Part, Found Purchase

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How frightening the world had seemed.
When first I tried to hatch my friend,
I feared my schooling found an end…
How simply, poorly had I dreamed?

How silly, simple I had been—
To think me ready; What'd it say,
If I impressed Princess today,
With tactless fluke—the scholar's sin?

Was this the destiny I’d earned?
It's quaint; and judging eyes abound—
In silent vigil kept. I found
My solace shattered—what was spurned

And whispered true. The grounded fears
Found purchase in my trembling heart
Still innocent. Yet hope, in part,
Saw fit that I should hold back tears

And strive against. A silent plea
To Princess—aid, prepare, to share—
(To hatchling, then to fledgling mare)
To help with what was asked of me—

Inveigle them to empathy;
Is ignorance, unfettered, bliss?
There were no books the likes of this;
Yet years gone by had helped me see

That tender youth knows simple truths.
I fathomed, clear, behind their eyes:
Those simple truths—those damning lies—
What spurs the fears of helpless youths!

I curbed my heart and trembled, cowed.
"Well, Miss Sparkle?" echoed loud.


"Well, Miss Sparkle?" echoed loud.
I curbed my heart and trembled, cowed.

What spurs the fears of helpless youths!
Those simple truths—those damning lies—
I fathomed, clear, behind their eyes:
That tender youth knows simple truths.

Yet years gone by had helped me see
There were no books the likes of this;
Is ignorance, unfettered, bliss?
Inveigle them to empathy;

To help with what was asked of me—
(To hatchling, then to fledgling mare)
To Princess—aid, prepare, to share—
And strive against. A silent plea

Saw fit that I should hold back tears
Still innocent. Yet hope, in part,
Found purchase in my trembling heart
And whispered true. The grounded fears

My solace shattered—what was spurned
In silent vigil kept. I found
It's quaint; and judging eyes abound—
Was this the destiny I’d earned?

With tactless fluke—the scholar's sin?
If I impressed Princess today,
To think me ready; What'd it say,
How silly, simple I had been—

How simply, poorly had I dreamed?
I feared my schooling found an end…
When first I tried to hatch my friend,
How frightening the world had seemed.

The Mourning of the Nightingale (ballade)

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I hear the mourning of the nightingale.
A song for silent sentinels incensed
Above the lensed and lensless eye that grips
The listless, stony shackle in the sky.

The heavens wheel their solemn dirges, pale;
Her family firm laments the firmament’s
Lacuna. Stellar tears, eclipsed, eclipse
The listless, stony shackle in the sky.

Orion yet commands I fly; he flails,
He raves Celestial doom—demands, relents
To nothing. She had sought apocalypse,
The listless, stony shackle in the sky.

I failed. I turned my back, I watched her die,
The listless, stony shackle in the sky.