Flashes of everyday (and, in some cases, not-so-everyday) life in Ponyville, Equestria, and the lands beyond.
Flashes of everyday (and, in some cases, not-so-everyday) life in Ponyville, Equestria, and the lands beyond...
(A depository for TheAncientPolitzanian's shorter works. Mainly consists of submissions to the Flashfic group, random snippets too insubstantial for standalone publishing, and deleted scenes from other stories.)
"The magical land of Equestria," as many of its classic fables proclaim it to be, certainly lives up to its de facto title.
From the frigid mountains of the Frozen North, to the southerly triphibian paradise of Hippogriffia. From the glitz and glamour of Las Pegasus way out west, to the ramshackle remains of the once-great Griffonstone in the far east. From here, to there, and to everywhere in between, there's always another stone for passers-by to overturn. If you know where to look, you'll find more than enough stories to last you several lifetimes over.
Of course, not all of those stories can shine beneath a spotlight. Some stories, try as they may, are incapable of filling a 30-minute time slot, or surmounting a one-thousand word quota. Nevertheless, they are stories all the same.
Here, you'll find some of those stories: the odds and ends of a world full of evens and beginnings. Make of them what you will.
"For the last time, Pharynx," Thorax groaned, "we can't just ask for the Crystal Heart! Their kingdom literally needs it to keep existing!"
"Well," Pharynx attempted to counter, "seeing as you're willing to hand out historical changeling artifacts all willy-nilly, I don't see why we can't ask the ponies for something of theirs!"
"Oh, for the love of— How many times do I have to remind you? We didn't just give Princess Twilight the Talisman of Mirage! It's on loan, and they're giving us farming supplies in return for it's continued—"
Pharynx slammed his hoof against the table. "We don't even need to eat food, Thorax!"
"Well some changelings just like to eat actual food from time to time!"
"Well, I'm not one of them!"
"You and I know both you're the exception, like, 85% of the time!"
"Oh, great, now you're judging my lifestyle choices, huh?"
"That's not what I'm trying to— Ugh!"
As the brothers continued to bicker, Prince Shining Armor and Princess Cadance watched on in silence. They'd barely gotten a word in since the meeting had begun.
"We should've just stayed in the Crystal Empire," Shining Armor muttered, holding a hoof against his forehead.
As the world outside the cave grew darker still, five generations of dragons, plus one alicorn, solemnly huddled around the purple-scaled behemoth in the center. He didn't have much time remaining.
The recumbent dragon gazed at the lavender-coated alicorn before him, and, in an disconcertingly hushed voice for such a gargantuan creature, whispered to her and her alone.
"...Guess this is it, huh?"
"I guess so," the alicorn replied.
"...How much do you wanna bet Pinkie's planned a 'dragon-sized' welcome party for me?"
In spite of herself, the alicorn chuckled. "I think that's pretty much a given, Spike."
There was a brief silence.
Then, Spike took on a far more concerned tone. "Twilight, I'm sorry I can't—"
"Spike, don't worry," Twilight reassured her longtime friend. "You can go. I... I'll be alright. I promise."
"...Y-You sure?"
She nodded. "Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."
Though it had merely been several days, to Silverstream it felt like an eternity had passed since the rumors started, spreading across Seaquestria like ripples in a restless pond. The rumors that the Storm King had fallen, his nigh-invincible armies scattered to the four winds.
The rumors that, with his defeat, the passageway to Hippogriffia was again unobstructed.
The little seapony had often pondered the surface world, her daydreams further lofted by her father's wistful recollections of the hippogriffs' former homeland—the homeland Silverstream once presumed she'd been born a few years too late to witness firsthand.
Now, such hiraeth was unwarranted. Now, she could feel the sun-dried sand beneath her hooves and talons, feel the feathered wings at her sides, yearning to unfurl.
The hippogriff gazed up in wonder at the clear skies above. And it was then that, for perhaps the first time in her life, Silverstream understood how good freedom felt.
"Hey, Kal, can you walk on your back legs?" Zap asked abruptly.
Kaleidoscope blinked. "Huh?"
"I'm just curious, that's all. It's just... Your dad usually walks around on his hind legs—whenever he's not floating around, at least," the pegasus elaborated. "Can you do that, or...?"
"...I mean, yeah," the draconequus answered, "But—"
"Really?" Little Cheese, evidently intrigued, cut in. "Could you show us?"
Kal mulled it over for a moment, then gave his friends an unsure nod. "Alright, if you say so..."
The draconequus-pony hybrid bent his elbows, bringing his upper body and head low to the ground. He then pushed off the dirt with his front paws, launching his form upwards. He staggered for a moment or two, but soon came to a stable standstill on his hind hooves.
"T-There," Kal stammered. "So, um... What do you think?"
Zap and Little Cheese looked up at their now-bipedal friend, their eyes wide and mouths agape.
"Dang..." murmured the former.
"Woah, you look cool!" cheered the latter. "How come you don't do that more often?"
"It just feels... weird, y'know?" Kal sighed, quickly lowering himself back onto all fours. "I don't like having to look down at everycreature like that."
Zap smirked. "Makes you feel too much like a tyrannical overlord, huh?"
"That's one way of putting it, I guess..." Kal murmured, unsurely shrugging his shoulders.
Though she and Rainbow had found a common ground over the Daring Do novels, Twilight still occasionally had to remind herself that the speedy pegasus' enthrallment with the franchise was yet to outpace her own.
Case in point? The discussion they were currently having.
"Come on, Rainbow!" Twilight insisted once more. "It'll be fun, I promise!"
"No offense, Twilight, but sitting outside a book store for six hours doesn't sound like my idea of fun," Rainbow retorted.
"They say the early bird gets the worm, Rainbow," Twilight remarked.
"We're not birds, Twilight. And for the last time, no thanks! I can get the new book later. It's not like the store's gonna run out of Daring Do anytime soon!"
"Okay, suit yourself..."
The next day, Rainbow found herself hovering about Ponyville's town square. Not-so-coincidentally, Twilight happened to be trotting by, the unicorn fixated on the hardcover book before her.
"Oh, hey Twilight!" Rainbow greeted. "Is that the new Daring Do book?"
Twilight looked up at her friend and smiled. “Indeed it is, Rainbow!"
"Well, how is it?"
"So far, so good!"
"Great! Can't wait to get my hooves on it!"
At that, Twilight grimaced. "Yeah, about that..."
Twilight turned around. Rainbow followed her friend's eyes and saw the book store at the end of the road. A long line of ponies stretched out of the building and off into the horizon. Rainbow couldn't even see where it ended.
"Woah woah woah," Rainbow interjected, "You're telling me they're all in that line for Daring Do!?"
"I'm afraid so," Twilight answered. "I would've bought you a copy, Rainbow, but the store had a strict 'one per customer' policy. You can probably see why."
There was a brief silence.
"...Yeah, you might want to get in line soon," Twilight suggested.
And with that, the unicorn trotted off, leaving a gobsmacked Rainbow to continue staring at the line.
Pharynx walked up to the mirror. A long, diagonal crack marred its glass surface, but it would serve its purpose nonetheless.
The changeling took a deep breath, his horn and antlers aglow. A maroon wave of magic washed over him as he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he found his brother's face staring back at him.
"Thorax" studied his reflection. Pharynx had always prided himself on his shapeshifting prowess, and this was no exception. He'd achieved pinpoint accuracy once again.
Now came the true test. Maintaining his brother's guise, Pharynx gave the mirror the most cheerful-looking smile he could manage. "Thorax" beamed right back at him.
Finally, Pharynx lowered the veil. When the aura subsided, the smile that was previously Thorax's found itself plastered onto his own face.
And oh how he hated the unnatural way it looked.
Pharynx grimaced at the sight—an expression, he mused, that seemed far more befitting.
"...How do you make it look so easy?" he asked.
Of course, nobody answered Pharynx, because he was all by himself.
The little dragon stared up at the tall statues. Truth be told, a part of him couldn't help but pity the creatures imprisoned within them.
That is, until the memories came flooding back.
Chrysalis, Tirek, and Cozy, it seemed, had only ever tried to hurt him. Time and time again, he and his friends had found themselves on the edge of the trio's knives, just waiting to be sliced to bits.
Time and time again, the three villains could've... They could've killed his friends. They could've killed him.
Spike tried in vain to disregard his bubbling resentment, but, in the end, the little dragon could only sigh in defeat.
"I... I want to forgive you all," he murmured. "I really do."
And yet, he couldn't.
Because all he'd ever gotten from them was pain. For better or worse, that was all he could ever bring himself to know them for.
Twilight looked up at the final vestiges of the nighttime, then down at the amulet in her hoof. If her predecessor had borne the responsibility of raising the sun without the trinket's assistance, she thought to herself, then why couldn't she?
"Let's try this again," Twilight sighed, putting the amulet away—for now, at least.
Her horn aglow, Twilight reached out to the sun. Even with her immense power, directing the celestial body was still an arduous endeavor. After struggling for some time, the alicorn was ready to consign today's attempt as a failure.
That was when the sun emerged over the horizon.
Meanwhile, far away in Silver Shoals, two sisters watched the new day's dawn.
"...Um, Tia?" the younger of the two inquired. "Is it just us, or does this sunrise seem... different somehow?"
Celestia looked up at the rising star she'd once wielded. Inquisitively, she reached out to it with her magic. Sure enough, something was different; a magic other than her own was guiding the sun along its path.
And she knew exactly whose it was.
"Indeed it does, Luna," Celestia said, a knowing smile upon her muzzle. "Indeed it does."
Twilight wrapped the frightened young dragon in a warm embrace. Recalling a lullaby her mother had sung to her in her own times of midnight distress, she opened her mouth and slowly, softly, began to sing:
"I know the world gets scary, still it spins around the same. There's cause for feeling wary, don't feel urged to bear the blame,
but even so, I'll let you know
that though skies above may seem dreary, and you might feel quite world-weary, just remember that I'll be by your side."
Before she could continue to the next verse, Twilight was interrupted by the sound of snoring. The alicorn looked down to find Spike fast asleep, a content smile upon his face. The sight elicited a smile of her own.
"Good night, Spike," she whispered, gently nuzzling the side of the dragon's head. "See you in the morning."
With that, she closed her own eyes and rejoined him in the realm of dreams.
"...And you should not blame me, too if I can't help fallin' in love with you, so even if the world tells us it's wrong, you're in my head like a catchy song."
Applejack strummed her guitar for another bar or so, and then the song came to an end.
Autumn Blaze clapped her hooves together. "Bravo, bravo!"
"Thank you, thank you," Applejack replied, before looking down at her guitar and grinning. "Y'know, Autumn, Ah've known that song since Ah was a filly. My Ma wrote it for my Pa. Used to sing it to him all the time.
"We'll have a song of our own soon enough," she continued, her voice taking on a somewhat apologetic tone, "but for now, it seemed fitting enough."
"No worries, AJ," Autumn assured, having noticed her marefriend's seeming regret. "Remember, I'm a theatre mare! I can appreciate a bit of parra... parayell... No, wait, I—"
Twilight and Spike found themselves in the kirins' village. They were on a diplomatic mission, and Rain Shine had assigned Autumn Blaze to give the two visitors a quick tour.
"Um, why do you all look like that?" Spike asked midway through the tour.
"Spike!" Twilight promptly scolded. "You should know by now that it's rude to talk about other creatures like that!"
"Don't worry, it's fine," Autumn Blaze assured. "I totally get it. We kirin aren't exactly normal-looking ponies, that's for sure.
"I mean, the horn, the scales, these, um... hoof-slash-claw things..." the talkative kirin continued, gesturing at the body parts in question as she spoke. "Heck, I don't think we really even count as ponies."
Twilight tilted her head. "How so?"
"Oh, kirins are part dragon."
"Huh, that makes sense— wait, what?"
"Yeah," Autumn nodded. "Actually, if I recall correctly, the whole Nirik thing is some sort of, I don't know, bizarro mixture of dragon greed and unicorn magic."
Twilight didn't hear her—she was still trying in vain to process the earlier information. "But... how did a dragon... and a unicorn..."
"Oh, that's a great story. You see, a long time ago, a gang of dragons—"
"...Ponies can mate with dragons?" Spike interrupted.
In the endless fields of Paradise, Twilight and Celestia gazed upon Equestria—or, at least, what was left of the one they'd known.
Tears welled up In Twilight's eyes. "It just isn't right," she sniveled.
Celestia remained silent, but nodded in agreement.
"Everything we accomplished," Twilight continued, "everything we fought for... Was it all for nothing?"
"Now, I wouldn't say that," Celestia countered. "Numerous generations owe you their happiness and prosperity, Twilight. That's more than many a ruler can attest to."
Twilight remained inconsolable. "But—"
"Pinkie's parties are but a distant memory," Celestia began, her voice adopting a slightly sterner tone. "Sweet Apple Acres has been gone for centuries. Rainbow Dash's records have all been broken. Rarity's fashions have long since fallen out of favor. Fluttershy's animals are dead and buried.
"Would you insinuate that everything they did meant nothing, Twilight?"
"I can tell you're only pretending to care about this," Thorax remarked.
Ember sighed in defeat. "Look, don't get me wrong, Thorax, we dragons do know how to appreciate a good story—" her Feast of Fire gems back home were proof enough of that, she mused— "but all this mushy 'soliloquizing'? Not my thing.
"I mean, if this Hooflet guy's uncle is such a jerk," the Dragon Lord continued, gesturing at the changeling performers on stage, "why can't he just shut up and stab him already‽"
"I don't know, lady, I'm not the Bard!" Hooflet's actor—exasperated by the visitor's vocal deconstruction of his character—abruptly asided.
Taken aback by the sudden obliteration of the fourth wall, the two royals fell into a stunned silence. They'd forgotten the actors were well within earshot.
"...If it makes you feel any better," Thorax eventually murmured, "everyone dies in Act 5."
Fluttershy felt absolutely exhausted. A pregnant doe under her care had finally given birth in the wee hours of the morning, and while the cream pegasus had been ecstatic to help welcome the newborn fawn into the world, doing so had thrown her sleeping schedule completely out of whack.
She tried her hardest to keep paying attention to Twilight's explanation of the big magical discovery she'd just made, but ultimately, her grogginess won out. Her internal stay apparatus kicked in, its muscles locking Fluttershy's leg joints in place. Her eyelids fell, and she herself soon fell into a gentle — and upright — sleep.
…
…
…
…Eventually, however, Twilight took notice. "…Fluttershy? Fluttershy!"
The exasperated pronouncement of Fluttershy's name shook her from her slumber. "Oh, s-sorry!" she apologized, a sheepish grin promptly forming on her muzzle. "Was I, um… 'hammocking' again?"
Twilight gave her friend a blank look. "Yes. Yes you were."
"Ah swear, the meaning of this day changes every few years," Applejack remarked.
"How so?" Twilight asked, though she already understood what her friend meant.
"Ah mean, first it was all about Princess Celestia savin' Equestria from eternal night. Then it was about Princess Luna and her return. And now…"
"…It's a celebration of everything both of them did for Equestria," Twilight finished.
"Exactly, Twi."
Rarity nodded. "Indeed. The Summer Sunset Celebration's been subject to a variety of interpretations over the years."
Suddenly, the sound of cheerful chuckling made five heads turned towards a sixth.
"What's so funny, Pinkie?" Rainbow asked, confused.
Pinkie steadied herself. "Not 'funny' really, just… Don't get me wrong, I know all of that's important, but… it isn't what's most important about the day to me."
"…Well, what does it mean to you, Pinkie?" Fluttershy asked.
Pinkie smiled earnestly. "It's the day we all became friends."
"It's all about positioning, Rainbow," Applejack explained. "Too far from the tree, nothin'll happen. Too close, 'n' if the trunk don't break, it'll be yer leg that does."
Too tired to heed her fiancée's advice, Rainbow bucked the tree from too far away. Apples fell regardless, but not many.
Applejack sighed. "Dash, what'd I just tell ya?"
"Look, AJ, you know I love you," Rainbow groaned, "but I'm just not a morning pony, okay?"
"Sorry, Rainbow," Applejack began, "but if yer livin' under our roof from now on, ya've gotta play by our rules. B'sides, y'know the saying: 'Early birds get the worms'."
"We're not birds, AJ!" the pegasus retorted.
Applejack rolled her eyes. "Y'know what? Follow me, Rainbow; Ah know what'll make a morning pony outta you."
"So, whaddaya think?"
Rainbow grinned, her eyes fixed on the beautiful sunrise dawning over the Acres. "I could get used to this."
Twilight winced. She'd anticipated Spike's reaction, but its frankness stung regardless. "Spike, that's not—"
"You and I both remember what happened last time." Longingly, the wyrmling brushed the wrapping paper. "I want to open this, but… If I do, I'll keep wanting. And wanting. And wanting. And then…"
Memories bombarded both their minds: a feral Spike, grown to gargantuan heights by his draconic greed, rampaging through the streets of Ponyville…
"There's nothing inherently wrong with wanting, Spike," Twilight offered. "You just have to know when enough's enough."
"…What if I can't? What if I get so wrapped up in wanting that I forget who I really am again?"
"Then you'll have six friends more than happy to remind you."
On that note, Spike feel silent, contemplating the package before him.
After some time passed, he took his sharp claws and tore the birthday present open.
"'#333: Underneath a large, egglike rock east of Vanhoover'," Twilight read aloud. She lowered the centuries-old parchment, examining the matching boulder before her. "Well, this looks like the place."
Her horn ignited, and the stone slid aside. Long ago, this maneuver would've been grueling, even for the young alicorn she'd then been; nowadays, not so much.
The Princess of Friendship instantly recognized the relic occupying the newly exposed crater; after all, she'd uncovered many identical others over the years. With eager anticipation, alongside an equal desire to savor the annual discovery, Twilight opened the box.
As always, five multicolored packages lay inside, but — also as always — Twilight seized the letters attached to each first. She picked one at random, then levitated it up to her muzzle.
A tear trickled past her wistful smile as she read her old friend's faded hoofwriting:
Happy three hundred and thirty-third birthday, Twilight!!!
"You don't have to be so formal about all this, you know," Twilight offered, eyeing Ember's successor.
"You're a visiting diplomat, here solely to negotiate trade between our nations," the newly crowned Dragon Lord retorted. The forced prosaism in his voice was all too audible. "I need to be formal."
"…But do you want to?"
"What I want doesn't matter, Twi— I mean, Princess. Not now."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't get me wrong, dragonkind knows Ember wanted me on the throne in case she… she ever…" He swallowed, steadying himself. "Regardless, I need to hold myself to their standards. I can't give them excuses to believe I'm just your puppet."
"So us being friends is an 'excuse'?" Twilight countered. "She entrusted you with this in the first place because she knew you could be different!"
"Twilight, please don't…"
"Spike, you're forcing yourself to be miserable! Is that really what Ember would've wanted for—"
"EMBER'S GONE, TWILIGHT!"
A stunned silence overtook both of them.
"…She's gone," Lord Spike eventually repeated, quivering, "and I'm stuck like this until everyone accepts I'm what she left behind."
"Twilight, you know Ah trust yer judgement," Applejack began, "but this 'Eon' fella's, what, two hours late? By this point, Ah've gotta wonder if that legend really is just… well, a legend."
Twilight gawked. "That… That can't be right!"
"That story said he'd return 'one thousand years to the hour'." Rainbow Dash gestured at the ominous — albeit monsterless — pit before them. "If Eon is real, he really sucks at keeping his promises."
"…Maybe he followed a completely different timezone?" Twilight offered, weakly.
"Or maybe he truly was made up by a yarnspinner trying to entertain foals?" Rarity countered.
"That's not how this works!" Twilight insisted, frantic. "Everypony always assumes these legends are 'no big deal', and then the next thing I know, nighttime is permanent, chaos is overtaking Ponyville, a rampaging centaur is ransoming my friends, and—"
"TWILIGHT!" five voices chorused.
Twilight froze, processing her outburst. "…I'm letting past experiences cloud my judgement, aren't I?"
"Probably," Applejack said, trusting Twilight's judgement once more.
Starlight examined the 'assignment' Twilight had just given her. "It's a… pot of dirt?"
"Not just dirt," Twilight explained. "There's a seed inside!"
"Ah, that makes more sense!"
"Which brings me to your assignment, Starlight: I want you to take that seed and grow it into a—"
"Got it!"
"Huh? Starlight, I wasn't fini—"
Not letting Twilight finish — after all, if she already knew what to do, then why wait? — Starlight immediately cast the requisite spell. On cue, the dirt rumbled; moments later, a colossal mass of leaf-covered branches shot out of it, quickly growing towards the ceiling. Once the dust had settled, the gargantuan philodendron may as well have been a Hearth's Warming tree.
"Ta-da!" Starlight singsonged, eyes closed and smile wide in prideful satisfaction... That is, until she felt the daggers Twilight was staring into her. "Wait, shoot. There was going to be a catch, wasn't there?"
"Yes," Twilight deadpanned. "Yes there was."
"And that catch was…?"
"'Grow the seed into a plant… without using magic.'"
The first thing that struck Smolder about Ponyville was just how soft it felt.
Her rough scales and sharp claws, acclimated to the Dragon Lands' rocky, kindred terrain, flattened the deceptively named blades of grass and dug into the malleable dirt that lied beneath. The vibrant buildings, exposed and predominantly flammable, almost begged her to stop by, a far cry from the jagged, unwelcoming caves that dotted the nooks and crannies she knew so well. Tartarus, not even the air felt familiar; here, it was cool and crisp, unburdened by the sulfur-laden smog — both volcanic and draconic — that permeated the skies of home.
It was all so… comforting. Too comforting. Like it was just asking to get kicked around, engulfed in flames, and ripped into the little smiling shreds it clearly deserved to be.
And she was supposed to learn something from this place?
"'This isn't your real form'?" Fluttershy repeated, curious.
"Nope!" Discord gestured at his mismatched body. "This is just the closest I can get without melting everypony's brains. Spreading chaos isn't as fun when its recipients immediately go catatonic."
"Can I see?"
Discord spat out tea he hadn't sipped yet. "What? Did you miss the 'melting brains' bit!?"
"Pleeeease?"
"Fiiiiiine. But we'll have to…" Discord shivered. "'Play it safe.' Ugh."
Fifteen minutes later, Discord and Fluttershy, the latter wearing cardboard 3D glasses, occupied opposite ends of a funhouse's worth of relaying mirrors, plus a Chaosville portal with the "SLENDERMANE SIGHTING!!! NOT FAKE!!!" filter applied.
"Ready?" Discord shouted.
"Ready!" Fluttershy replied.
"Okay… In three, two, one…"
Snap!
Returning to 'normal', Discord teleported beside Fluttershy. "Thank chaos, you're still conscious. Soooo… thoughts on my 'final form'?"
Fluttershy smiled wholeheartedly. "I regret every decision I've made in the past fifteen minutes."
"Rari—" Spike jolted awake, only to slam his head against his cave's ceiling. "Gah!"
The gargantuan dragon massaged his aching cranium, pondering the dream that'd startled him so. He hadn't dreamt about Rarity like… like that for centuries, for Celestia's sake!
"Wanna explain digging up my first crush, Luna?" Not like she can answer, he lamented.
"Aha!" a decidedly un-Luna-like voice cheered outside. "Someone is in there!"
A purple unicorn — no older than the Elements once were, aeons ago — skipped into Spike's shadowy abode. Her frizzy blue mane bobbed as she pronked to a halt beneath him. "Hi there!" She waved, her bracelet jingling. "You must be the 'Spike' Sunny mentioned! My name's Iz—"
Mid-introduction, the sunrise struck Spike's face, allowing "Iz" to actually see it.
Her reaction? Instantly familiar: helplessly smitten.
