The Raven
((Author’s note: For literary purposes, the time for this event is during Pinkie Pie’s first party for Twilight, in between the hot sauce incident, and the following morning. The story is told from Twilight’s perspective, as a kind of scary story to the Cutie Mark Crusaders.))
“Once there was a night too cheery, which did make me weak and weary,
By the crazy ponies keeping me from all my curious lore. My head dropped and almost napping, suddenly I heard a tapping, similar to gentle rapping, to the door of second floor.
‘Crazy pony’ I then muttered, ‘Pinkie Pie perhaps once more – Surely this, and nothing more.’”
Then I noticed the Cutie Mark Crusaders inwardly (and outwardly) groan at the poetic speech. So I tried to tone it down to them a little. After all, I wanted their attention for my spooky story. Yet such a task would be impossible if they would only me ignore.
So I continued, in plainer speech. “Of course I was worried about the advent of Nightmare Moon, and I seeked to eliminate that worry through further study of the Elements of Harmony. But there was no way I was going to sleep or study with all that racket going on. I ended up just sticking my head under my pillow and wishing it was tomorrow already, so I could stop thinking about the mare in the moon.
“And with my luck, I soon had other matters to distract me. A breeze caused some branches to sway rapidly, their leaves rustling noisily. Inexplicably, I began to fear for my own safety, and my heart began to beat more quickly. So, of course, I just repeated, ‘It’s just Pinkie, isn’t it? There at my door? Pinkie, is it you who’re there at my door?’
“But there came no answer, so I decided to draw upon my reserves of bravery, walking to the uncertain portal beyond which lay merriment and gaiety galore. I spoke just loudly enough that anypony should’ve been able to hear through that door. ‘Excuse me, but I’m very tired, and just want to be left alone. Thank you for knocking quietly, though.’ I opened wide the door to see to whom I had just apologized, but saw darkness, and nothing more.
“I stood there for a while, staring into that unyielding darkness, deep into the sunless night, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming, and all matter of et cetera. But as for that insane Pinkie Pie, or any other mare for that matter, none would answer, clearly too busy losing themselves in music and punch. ‘Pinkie?’ I whispered, and excitedly I heard a shout from below echoing ‘Pinkie!’ followed by cheers and whoops. Surely she was performing some sort of parlour trick, but if she was there, then who was that at my door?
“I turned around and returned to my room, closing the door behind me, when I heard another tap, this time at the window. ‘Wait, what’s that?’ I questioned to the unfeeling surrounding air. ‘Who’s there, tapping at my window?’ I remember wondering if someone was throwing stones like I had read in some obscure romance novels, in order to attract my attention. ‘Well, I guess I better go see who’s the young Casanova.’ I said to myself.
“So with a bit of magic I opened up the window, and was covered in a deluge of black feathers as an elegant but creepy raven flew in. He didn’t say anything, or hesitate at the window. He just flew right on in and sat on a small bust of Celestia that I had brought with me from Canterlot, just beside the room’s entrance door. And the strangest thing is, he didn’t preen himself or make any noise at all. He just sat there, sitting tall as if he found it important to always maintain proper posture.
“How strange of a mindset I must have been in, because at that point I think I had practically just given up, but at the sight of the raven I just smiled. He seemed so serious and dignified. I remarked to him ‘Well, I’ll give you points for bravery, because you’re definitely no chicken. Do you happen to have a name though, raven, when you’re flying about under Celestia’s night’ And the raven answered “Forevermore.”
“And I’ll admit, I was a bit surprised by this strange bird, to hear it talk as if it did so every day. And with such an interesting if irrelevant name! But what an intriguing name it had; I’ll admit I’ve never heard of such a name before, of a bird or beast with such a unique name as Forevermore.
“But that raven, sitting so still upon Celestia’s bust, only spoke that one word, as if nothing else mattered. I muttered almost to myself ‘Great, now I’ll have another crazy friend.’ Then the bird said “Forevermore.”
“And this time I was really getting to be a bit disturbed, because now his answer seemed as if it was planned. ‘Interesting’ I remarked, ‘but surely that’s the only word Forevermore knows. I shudder to think where he must have lived if someone ingrained that one word into his head that he speaks only it.’ It wasn’t necessarily a bad or unkind word, but an interesting one to be sure.
“So now I decided to study Forevermore, with a now more studious smile upon my face, and I walked back over to my bed and tried to make myself comfortable. I sat down upon the comfy cushions, and began to ponder. Whatever did this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird even mean when he spoke his word, ‘Forevermore’?
“I was sitting there silently thinking, with no sounds made to the Raven. Yes, I sat there on those bedsheets which had previously been given to me by Celestia herself, but it would seem as though she would never again handle or touch them.
“But here’s where it start to get spooky. Through the window a dense fog rolled in, as if heralded by a few over-zealous pegasi. And now more eagerly than ever, I began to speak to the raven and interrogate him. ‘Hey, Forevermore. Someone must have sent you here. Was it Fluttershy, that timid maiden? Did she send you to comfort me, in this strange and dazzling place?’ Quoth the raven, ‘Forevermore.’
“’Well then, mister know-it-all!’ I said, ‘Help or hindrance, whether sent here by ill intents or by coincidence, all grim and prim, with this dense fog, it doesn’t matter. But tell me, will there be no respite from these party ponies? Will my loneliness never again be complete?’ And that raven replied right on cue with “Forevermore.”
“’Okay then, clever creature, I’ll grant you that answer was pretty good. But by Cloudsdale that floats above us, and by Celestia whom we both adore, would you please tell me. Tell this burdened pony if Tartarus will be a comfort compared to what I’m going through now.’ And the raven said, yes, you guessed it, ‘Forevermore.’
“’Well then be that way!’ I responded, a bit more loudly then necessary. ‘If you’re going to be like that, then leave! Take all your feathers with you, and leave my loneliness unbroken! You don’t deserve to stand upon Celestia’s regal marble head. Or are you just going to stay there?’ And almost with a tone of amusement, the raven again replied ‘Forevermore.’
“And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting.
On Celestia’s graceful bust there, just beside the entrance door.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the sun or moonlight streaming casts a shadow on the floor;
And my scholar’s soul beguiled, here and there upon the floor,
Is confused – forevermore!”
I finished triumphantly, sure that I had gained and held there attention resolutely. But I was disappointed to find that their attention spans were remarkably short that day. Scootaloo was fiddling and tinkering with her scooter, and Sweetie Belle was humming to herself as if she had long ago forgotten that I was speaking. Apple Bloom, though, sat there quivering, shaking, clearly distressed by my story.
“What’s wrong?” I queried, concerned for her well-being, since I was the kind pony that I am. “It’s just a story, you silly-filly. Only this, and nothing more!”
But with those brilliant gamboge eyes, all a-quiver, she looked into mine, into my soul, and stated plainly “Ah’ve seen that raven. Or at least heard him. Often in the night, when there ain’t no other noises and the whole barn is all quiet, you can hear this kin' of flutterin'. An' if you strain your ears, you can just hear this voice, kinda squawky, sayin' 'Forevermore.' I think it's the same raven from the story. You reckon that means anything Twilight?"
And now with heart and soul a-flutter, this time truly, I implore. I attempted now to comfort such an innocent filly. "I'm sure there's no need to worry. It's probably just a displaced raven from the Everfree Forest that's feeling as if its lonesomeness will last forevermore. Most likely it's nothing at all, and if it causes any problems, I'm sure Applejack and Big Macintosh can handle a little raven."
"Okay," she responded, sounding a bit less scared. "Well, thank's for the story, Twilight. Sometimes it's fun to be a little scared."
"Yeah," I replied, but my thoughts were elsewhere, "sometimes we find fun in the most interesting of places."