When the Cynic Met the Daredevil
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I registered with the local Canterlot Weather Team as soon as I arrived, so I made the weather fine. It’s about the only thing that is fine at the moment. Because college is terrible.
I like the lessons, and the library is amazing, but everything else is a pain. Guess what: I bumped into a teacher and broke a priceless Qilinland vase she was carrying in a box. Also, I broke the lock off the classroom door and tripped over my own chair when I went to sit down. Now everyone calls me “Brake Do”.
Before you ask: no, I have not made any friends yet. This is why.
Anyway, I don’t think I want to. I seem to be the only one there taking the Equestrian Literature class seriously. I answered at least half of the questions the teacher asked, and everyone looked at me like I was dirt.
Also, please don’t go on about making friends when you write back. We’ve had this discussion before. I think I’ve made my point clear.
Dormitory is nice. Something interesting for you: there’s a bust of Clover the Clever overlooking the writing desk. Remember me telling you about her being the founder of the college and how she built it? I think you’ve still got the essay somewhere in the attic. Give it a read sometime.
Will report back as soon as I’ve scoped the place out. Hopefully, the building will make up for the company.
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Here I am in the warm bosom of Clover the Clever’s Comprehensive Cream of the Crop College! What a delightful bastion of learning and culture these towers are, to be sure! You will be pleased to know that I have made many friends on my first day here. Hereby I enclose a list of my nearest and dearest:
·Twinklestar: joint-honours student between Equestrian Literature and Unicorn Studies. She too hails from Vanhoover, and she told me she has relatives working at the palace! We had a delightful discourse on the nature of astrology, and its use thereof, in the epic poetry of Honey Wolf. Very sweet and very soft-spoken: she is a lovely girl.
·Citrine: born in Canterlot. However, she informed me that her parents emigrated from Vanhoover. A most generous filly she is too! She gave everyone candy and braided my mane for me (not during the lesson, I hasten to add). Her favourite poem is "Monolith", just like yours Dad!
·Gemini Flute and Gemini Lute: country ponies! I was particularly thrilled to make their acquaintance, as it’s always a pleasure to get an outsider’s opinion. Delightful company too! After class, they gave us all invitations to a Sweet Celestia Song and Dance theatrical production. Honestly, I admire such enthusiasm!
·Pirouette: cousin Pirouette, at that! Something of a character, this one, and frankly outspoken in her views of the Honey Wolf Epic Poetry Translation Society. Yet our dispute was in good spirits, and she bought us all drinks by way of showing she had no hard feelings. (I won the debate, of course!)
I am confident that my new friends will go a long way, and I hope to prove myself worthy to join their ranks. Twinklestar and the Gemini twins tell me they’re corresponding with their families too, which endeared me very strongly towards them. If I may be so bold, I would like very much to invite them home over the holidays, but of course I would not wish to impose upon you should you have other plans.
On an unrelated note, I was shocked to find the college lacked a club exclusively for daredevils and thrill seekers. Thus far, the closest equivalent which I have found has been the skiing and mountaineering society. This simply will not do! I intend to confront the Guild of Students and have this oversight rectified immediately, by founding the group myself if necessary. What is life without a little excitement, after all?
Sincerely, with all my love,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Still made weather fine. Still no friends. Still terrible.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
You really want me to send these daily? I’m getting funny looks from the other ponies in the dorm.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I’m not sending these daily. As of now, I’m trying weekly. You need to stop worrying so much.
Also, I had a look around today. There were only three other pegasi, and every last one of them was studying something weather-related. Paleoclimatology was the best they could do.
And no, they’re not friends.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Something nice to report, for a change. The library here is fantastic. I’ve already withdrawn the maximum number of books, which is twelve. A few textbooks I couldn’t get, but the librarian assures me that’s normal because they’re high-demand.
After the introductory lesson last week – I don’t remember if I told you about that – this time we focused on the really early literature. Ancient stuff, right after the Nightmare Moon incident: Chancer’s "Tales of the Really Long and Really Annoying Walk With A Bunch of Stupid and Unpleasant Strangers Just To Look At A Big Shiny Building" was pure poetry. I think I’ve found a new favourite!
I also had a look at the archive material. You need a special pass to get in, but I made arrangements ahead of time, so smooth sailing for me. Wow, is this place full of treasures! I actually saw the clay tablet of the Epic of Guilt by Clover the Clever herself!
It’s not on the Equestrian Literature course, but come on, I had to look. It’s a piece of history, made from the hooves and hearts and minds of ponies desperately reaching across the centuries to us, the future. This is the most exciting thing I have ever seen!
Sadly, couldn’t take pictures, but maybe I’ll bring you up here during the winter break to show you. I can make arrangements.
Reading ahead to the "Muses of the Midsummer Monks". A bit obscure, but I think I can trace their work back to the early writings of Beehive the Boring. There are always unexpected connections in the history of literature. It’s like a puzzle.
Makes up for the company, trust me. Bunch of giggling mares in my class nearly ruin it for me, but I try to ignore them. The lessons are just too good to pass up.
Will tell you more next week. I’ve got some reading to catch up on.
Love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Bright was the morning and glad were our hearts when we ventured to the Guild of Students today! For I have successfully founded the Stunt-lover’s Society for Delightfully Insane Ponies! Huzzah!
Citrine and Pirouette helped, of course. Citrine is the secretary and Pirouette is the treasurer. As head of the society, it’s up to me to organize the events and welcome the new students. So far, only Twinklestar and the Gemini twins have joined in, but I am confident we will entice more norepinephrine enthusiasts in good time.
(By the way, it’s not really epinephrine or adrenaline, but norepinephrine, that powers the flight-or-fight response. Pirouette told me as such, and I’m nothing if not scrupulously accurate!)
Happily, classes proceed as well as expected, though we seem to be saddled with a rather annoying pegasus who will insist on blurting out the answers and hoarding all the library textbooks we need. I have tried to talk to her and encourage her to join in on our friendly discussions both during and after class, but she gave me such a filthy look last time that I decided to relent. Truth be told, she is a somewhat alarming character. When she’s not shouting answers and skulking around the premises like a thug, she has an unfortunate habit of walking into doors or tripping over hallway ornaments.
In fact, I fear I must confess something rather shameful to you. During the course of my social pursuits, I have noticed that many of the other unicorn students, much in evidence here, are supremely skilled at the arts of magic-crafting. With my own eyes, I’ve witnessed my fellow students levitating crates of college supplies and transfiguring stationery and making flowers bloom before their time. None of these feats are at the tier of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, of course, but given my own inability to make that school, you’ll appreciate I’m a little put out by this discovery. Even my best friends seem to be unusually gifted.
No one else has so much as mentioned it, but it concerns me greatly. Both of you have been here before. Is this usual for a unicorn of this level, or should I work harder to meet the standard? So far, my friends in the society have never treated me any differently from how they’ve treated each other, but then I’ve had little opportunity to demonstrate my powers, and it’s only a matter of time before they notice the discrepancy.
Urgently seeking your advice and support,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Unicorns can get their giggling, useless, self-centred hides all the way to Tartarus and never come back, for all I care!
I got ambushed by one of those stupid giggling girls on the way to class this morning. Some prank! One of them jumped off the bell tower while I was on my way to class. Well, what else could I do? I had to swoop down and catch them before they hit the ground. It was a very near miss, too, and I’m lucky I didn’t brain myself.
Turned out she was bungee-jumping, and I didn’t see the cord.
It’s bad enough they laugh behind my back in class, but now they’re faking dangerous situations just to make me look like a darn fool. They complained! They laughed when I told them what I was doing. They kept going on about how obvious the cord was, which it wasn’t. Not even any kind of safety notice or barriers up or nothing. They kept going on about some insane society they’d made – I kid you not, they have a society now – and then get this: they told me off for spoiling their fun!
She could have broken her neck, the brain-dead little moron, but did she thank me? Oh no. She went off about how I needed to “lighten up” and “let them enjoy life”. “Enjoy life”, I ask you, by throwing themselves off buildings! And the way they looked at me when they said that! Not even a “sorry” for scaring the daylights out of me!
I was going to report them for that, but fine, I won’t bother now. They can break their goshdarned necks. If they like, I can push them off next time and cut the cord. “Enjoy life”. Honestly, I could spit.
Lessons are going fine. We looked at "Sir Royal Chap and the First Horned Face". I’ll tell you next time. I’m not in the mood right now.
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I am inordinately pleased to report that, one or two minor hiccups aside, the Stunt-lover’s Society for Delightfully Insane Ponies has gone from success to success! This week, our achievements included, but were not limited to:
·Bungee-jumping off the bell tower by the library. A minor disappointment, this, as we were interrupted by that pegasus I mentioned previously, which spoiled the mood. She claimed she was trying to rescue me, but I sincerely doubt it. We made special provisions to ensure the area was clear ahead of time and that the bungee cord was especially conspicuous. I believe she heard of our stunt through the student grapevine and for reasons of her own wished to sabotage the event.
·Rafting down the Canterlot river in barrels. Fortunately, this event went spectacularly well! All of us became thoroughly soaked for our troubles, and poor Citrine lost her hair beads when we fell down the waterfall, but we attracted a most appreciative crowd and thus gained several new members. In addition, we all went to Canterlot’s main districts and visited Doughnut Joe’s to celebrate. Pony Joe junior rather took a shine to me. I believe I’ve found an admirer!
·Making a leap over several carts while piloting a scooter and wearing a straitjacket. Truth be told, we were not successful in procuring a straitjacket per se, but Citrine’s cousin Dapperdown knitted a rather fetching facsimile for my own use. We got as far as jumping ten carts before poor Twinklestar took a nasty knock on the head and fell at the finish. I am happy to report that she was not seriously injured, and she is expected to rejoin us within a couple of days. No records were broken that day, alas.
·Rising up as high as possible, thanks to a pegasus escort. One of the lovely mares from the Paleoclimatology class assisted me with this one, agreeing to fly as high as possible to see how far we could get without passing out. Of course, college porters (the pegasus ones, naturally) stopped us once we cleared the mountain peaks, as we were directly over college property. Unfortunately, even when we moved they proved to be intractable, so we had to abandon this particular stunt.
·Breath-holding and diving in the Canterlot moat. The aim was to either break the record for the longest single breath held while submerged, or break the record for the deepest dive ever attempted in the moat. Incredibly, the Gemini twins both superseded the record for breath-holding, though I was the one who broke the record for the deepest dive! Pirouette and Citrine held a celebration in the dormitory. Sadly, I was excused due to a strange pain in one of my lungs, but I believe it will pass soon.
On the subject of lessons, I am progressing relatively well. "Sir Royal Chap and the First Horned Face" was quite a surprise; usually, texts that far back are rather drab and dull affairs, but this was an exciting romp through the deathly deserts of the Griffon Kingdom, beyond the Hyperborean Range and north of Qilinland’s western districts. Apparently, Sir Royal Chap based a lot of the adventures on his own journey through the desert, and if that’s the case, then what a brave and splendid soul he was! I was glued to the page!
Citrine and I agree that we’d best start taking our lessons a bit more seriously than we have done. With usual candidness, Pirouette has pointed out that at this rate, we will be falling behind disastrously within a semester, so we’ve agreed to read ahead and obtain as many textbooks necessary to the course as possible. In any case, we must help poor Twinklestar keep pace with the literature.
Thank you for the advice in your last letter. I am feeling much better for knowing, and I apologize for worrying you.
Wonderfully delighted, and content with life,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
This is my last letter. I’m leaving.
So it’s not enough I’m a laughingstock in the corridors. Now I can’t even get the books I want anymore.
Seriously, I’ve spent the entire week having ponies call me “Fake Do” and “Take Two” and “Hero, You?” and “Derring-do”. I tried telling them what happened, but they just think I’m making excuses. Why? It’s like they don’t want to believe me. They even do it during lessons now. It makes my teeth itch.
That just leaves the library, or so I thought. If there’s anywhere I can just sit down and read without getting treated like an idiot, it’s the library, right? Right? Wrong.
All the books I need are out on loan. We’re moving on to the Morality Plays of the Earth Pony Renaissance now, and I can’t find a single copy anywhere in the place! I know there were dozens there, I checked ahead of time, but a couple of days later I returned the books I had and poof! Nothing on the shelves.
I could at least have gotten the Persecution Papers of Cheery Oats the Zealous. His work was next on the roster. I even saw the book on the shelf! But the instant I got there, the crazy bungee-jumper did that unicorn spell thing and there it went towards the library desk!
Well, I didn’t want to give up that easily. I tried to tell her I really needed that book, and she asked me what happened to my copy. I said I didn’t have one, because of the whole budget thing you talked about, but she said she needed the edition with the helpful appendix at the end “to assist her”, and surely I was smart enough to “take one minor educational hit”, and she needed to catch up desperately this one time, and I swear I was this close to strangling her!
So I tried to take the book off her anyway. The librarians didn’t like that and came over while we were scuffling. I said she nicked the book off me. She said – get this – she said I had it out for her! Me? Had it out for her? Why of all the filthy little lies! Then her friends came up and vouched for her, and that was pretty much it. My word against theirs. She got the book, I didn’t. Heck, the librarians even asked me to leave.
Now I’ve got nothing. I don’t even have any books for the next lesson after that, because those have suddenly mysteriously gone missing too.
You said it’d be different here. It’s not. It’s the same wherever I go.
Well, I’m fed up. I’m coming back. As soon as I’ve made the travel arrangements, I’m coming home and spending the rest of the year on weather duty. After all, lessons were all I had and now these so-called civilized city ponies are taking that away from me too. And I can only hear my name get twisted out of shape so many times.
See you soon. Sorry it didn’t work out. Also, sorry about the smudges. There’s a stupid leak in the dormitory.
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
You may recall during our earlier correspondences that I mentioned a certain thuggish pegasus. At the time, I made allusion to the fact that she had sabotaged my earliest stunt for the Stunt-lover’s Society for Delightfully Insane Ponies. In addition, I believe I mentioned her disruptive and frankly obnoxious behaviour during lessons, marring what was otherwise a rather seamlessly delightful experience.
In good conscience, I must revoke my earlier comments. For I am ashamed of them now.
The cause of this change of heart was an incident today after the lesson on the Morality Plays of the Earth Pony Renaissance. Naturally, my friends and I sequestered at the college dining hall for the usual discussion on stunts and events and how other ponies were faring against the forces of education and college life. None of the details are salient, so I will simply say that I took an early leave to retire to the dormitory for quiet study, and my route happened to pass the janitor’s storage cupboard.
Under normal circumstances, I would not mention this, except I was disturbed during a silent walk down the empty corridor by the sounds of distress. They were coming from this selfsame cupboard. At first, I believed one of the poor students was having a nervous breakdown due to stress, though why they’d broken into the janitor’s storage of all things, I had no idea. The bathroom was the more traditional hiding place.
Curious, I looked inside, and you can imagine my astonishment when I discovered the pegasus – Make Do, I shall call her now – tucked away in the dark, weeping so hard her eyes shone in the gloom!
I confess the sight utterly surprised me. She had been so angry and unpleasant and dull thus far in my experience that I never imagined she could ever weep. She even tried to hide it when she realized I was watching her.
Fortunately, I remembered your advice for such an occasion. Out of respect for her, I shut the door behind me and let her speak in her own time. I asked but did not press the point, you’ll be pleased to learn, though it was some time before she was ready to talk, and some more time yet before she could do so without cursing and accusing me.
For discretion’s sake, I’ve kept the more intimate details to myself, but I would value your advice on the following:
·Make Do insisted that the incident with the bungee-jump was not sabotage, but an attempt to save my life. She claimed she had no awareness of the announcements and safety protocol put in place to keep students away, and did not see the cord until we pointed it out to her. This does not strike me as likely, but she was so adamant and sensitive that I did not challenge it when she explained it to me. Does this seem likely to you, in your opinion?
·Make Do was under the impression that we took those library books chiefly to spite her attempts at studying. On the one hoof, I confess it was unusual behaviour for us, so may well have come across that way. On the other hoof, many students buckle down, as it were, while the course progresses. Is this a reasonable position for her to hold?
·Make Do’s interpretation of my attempt to procure the Persecution Papers of Cheery Oats the Zealous is likewise: that I was denying her important study material as part of a persecutory plan waged against her. I certainly recall how angry and aggressive she became at the time, and it strikes me as disproportionate. Am I being fair-minded here?
·Make Do regards our cordial discussions during class as a sign that we do not take our studies as seriously as she does. I am not sure I follow her logic here, though I confess we did need to focus more on the teacher. However, I doubt we were disruptive, as she put it, and I don’t want to spoil my friendships solely for the sake of one pegasus’s complaints. How should I approach this?
After we spoke, I left her in peace and immediately went back to the dormitory to write this letter to you. For all I know, she may still be in there, though how she got past the locks remains a mystery to me (I thought it prudent not to bring up the point).
Whether she was mistaken or not – I suspect she might be at least somewhat deluded in her beliefs – I am still ashamed of the way I described her earlier. Rough and unpleasant she may be, but she is clearly a passionate and dedicated student, and I have clearly upset her. I am sorry I have to make this report to you, and I urgently need your help on how to handle this matter. The guilt is affecting me terribly.
Hopefully putting this unpleasantness behind me,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Mom and Dad,
No reply is necessary. Since my last letter to you, I have endeavoured to spend more time with Make Do. Admittedly, this has proven a challenge; she ignores my attempts to whisper to her during lessons, avoids me in the corridors before and after, and never appears anywhere else, not even for lunches or break times. Indeed, I needed several attempts before I managed to catch her on her own in the dormitory, and even then our conversation was shallow and terse. Currently, I suspect she is too self-conscious of the unfortunate encounter I described in my last letter to you.
From my enquiries about the college, no one else is even on first-name terms with her, and many were surprised to learn that I was. When I visited Twinklestar in the ward – her head injury, alas, has not recovered fully, as we’d hoped – she opined that the mare had come from out of town, and the Gemini twins have agreed to ask their relatives if they recognize the name. One fact we can agree on is that she seems to have no friends or relatives here at all.
Furthermore, from my enquiries at the library, I have ascertained that Make Do is a regular visitor, always one step ahead of the curriculum and always borrowing as many books as often as she can. No one has ever seen her in company.
I am convinced from the evidence that she needs help. You taught me that all ponies naturally need a herd to belong to, not merely to be in, but to feel connected to, and she does not seem to have that. I suspect her lack of connection would explain adequately her ignorance of the protocols surrounding the bungee-jump, and why she took the loss of her books so badly.
Lastly, though I confess this is very speculative, I am given to understand from my friend in Paleoclimatology that whereas most pegasi are often sensitive to their surrounding environment, a few arise who are unusually insensitive even by non-pegasus standards. Part of me believes this may also explain her lack of attentiveness and general clumsiness about the premises.
I urge you to keep these correspondences as confidential as possible. Make Do intrigues and worries me, but no one else appears to show much concern for her, and I fear if someone does not act soon, she may end up in a terrible position. As always, I’ll write to you if I require more assistance on the matter.
Unhappily ashamed but determined as ever,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Mom and Dad,
My studies are not going as well as I’d hoped. Despite the appendixes contained in my edition – which are specifically designed to help students – the Persecution Papers of Cheery Oats the Zealous remains a closed book to me. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I have spoken to the tutor about this, but I fear I could make neither heads nor tails of their explanation.
I enclose a copy of the appendix in question, hoping you might be able to explain the situation for me.
For now, I’ve suspended the Stunt-lover’s Society for Delightfully Insane Ponies. Despite my friends having protested, I am increasingly convinced it was overreaching and have decided to open it at a later date.
Confused and uncertain,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Please ignore my last message! I believe our family’s natural scholarly skill has manifested itself at last, and I have cracked the code! Feeling much better for it now, and hoping I did not worry you unduly. In addition, I have considered reorganizing the society so that the events are spaced out over the semester rather than crammed into a single week.
Joyfully triumphant,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I’m sorry. My last letter was a joke. I’m sorry I scared you. I’m not really leaving.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I’m sorry again. I lied. It wasn’t a joke when I said I wanted to leave. I really did. I feel a bit better now. Just a meaningless panic moment. Every student has one.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Making the weather fine, if a bit cloudy again. In case you’re wondering, I’ll be going back to the weekly format now. The last two letters were flukes.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I know this isn’t a week, and a bit sooner than you expected, but I really am sorry this time. I haven’t been totally straight with you.
It wasn’t a panic moment either, when I said I wanted to leave. I made no arrangements. It had got so bad I was just going to pack and run and hope no one chased me home. It was childish, but I should be honest at least.
Let’s be clear: I haven’t made a friend. Some ponies here just aren’t as bad as I thought. There’s one who’s less of a cocky jerk than I’d taken her for. At least she takes her studies seriously, like me. She asked me about this one text she was struggling with, and in about a few minutes I cleared up what she’d been spending hours and days on. Pretty easy stuff, really. Confessionals and the theme of winter, and all that. Piece of cake.
Also, most of the other ponies have stopped calling me names now. I don’t know why, but at least it takes a load off my mind. Some still do it, sure, but not many.
Broke the janitor’s trolley, though, and he is not happy about it.
Managing OK. Still a stupid leak in the dormitory.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Having to make the weather wet and windy now it’s officially an Equestrian fall. They’re traditionalists in Canterlot.
We’ve finally moved on from the Morality Plays and Persecution Papers stuff and gotten to the goodies! Epic. Poetry.
Right now, I’m studying "The Queen of the Breezies", and the use of iambic pentameter is amazing! The rhythm is spot-on! It’s actually really impressive how Spinneret manages to reference so many real-life events around that time, like the frontier expansion in San Palomino, the establishment of an Amaponian Explorer’s society, and the international breakdowns between Celestia and the surrounding nation states.
And the mythology is excellent; he really did his homework. Pity he never completed the whole thing, but sadly that happened a lot with early epic poetry. The symbolism’s a bit obvious, too. There’s literally a trio of villains called Faithless, Joyless, and Lawless. I mean, come on.
It reminds me a bit of Sir Royal Chap, with all the excitement and exploration. An obvious connection, I know, but here’s a little-known fact: the griffons in "The Queen of the Breezies" are actually call-backs to the parts with the First Horned Face. Don’t believe me? I’ve got thirteen sources to prove it!
Yes, I can actually find stuff in the library again. I’m reading more in that place now. Don’t want to be a total shut-in, after all. I have my limits, just so we’re clear. Only a fool would join the Stunt-lover’s Club.
Found a place in the city called Doughnut Joe’s. Seems nice, though there’s a weird guy called Pony Joe runs the place, and his son’s called Pony Joe too. Apparently all the first-born sons are called Pony Joe. Must be foreign, I think.
Managing OK. Hope you’re OK too.
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Epic poetry is proving to be my undoing. The adventures are simply not exciting enough, and the allusions and references are so complicated I fear I may never understand them all. I shall take your suggestion and ask around. Not that I need to ask around, of course, since we are a family of scholars, but a little discussion may nudge my train of thought back onto the tracks.
Twinklestar has finally emerged from the ward in good health, though now the poor soul is panicking because she has so much work to catch up on. As for everyone else, there is little to report beyond the fact that they’re buckling down for the tests at the end of the semester. Regrettably, we haven’t been able to entice many ponies back to the club, even when we held a sword-dancing event last week.
Only Make Do appears to be thriving, and I am happy to report that she is spending more time in my company! At the dining hall, in the corridors, among the flowers in the courtyard: we have had a wonderful time. Frustratingly, she insists on focusing upon her studies when we talk, though she’s so passionate about them that I cannot feel too frustrated. When I asked and discovered that she had little interest in extracurricular activities, I fear she was rather curt with me. Not to make too fine a point of it, I have also noticed that she is putting on a little weight around the middle. She simply cannot spend her life sitting and reading all day.
Some of the students have taken an interest in covert experimental spellcasting. This is normally frowned upon by the porters and teachers, though I fail to see why. Some of the spells have a lovely effect upon the senses, and the gardens where we practice them look so beautiful afterwards! Make Do refuses to take part, at the moment. She says she does not trust any unicorn to wave a horn in her face.
In lighter news, buckball tryouts are starting this weekend. They left it somewhat late due to one or two accidents with the coaches, and now they’ve found a suitable replacement, I cheerfully intend to try my luck! Pirouette also brought to my attention a rodeo club, which might make a fine change of pace.
Satisfactorily experimental and excited to be here,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Well this was a weird week. That one unicorn kept badgering me to get out and about, so I went along to one of her stupid club things to keep her quiet. At the time, I was hoping I could stay up late to keep up with my epic poetry studies. We’ve gotten to the foreign influences on "The Queen of the Breezies", which is OK but a bit heavy-going for me. Maybe I did need a break.
Would you believe the little sneak was pushing me to join three clubs? Three!
I’d promised, so I had to go along to have a look, but at the time I was mad as heck. It was bad enough she was wasting my time for one event, but then we were having another right after, and then another right after that! The cheek of this girl! She’s insane!
At least it was only the two of us. I don’t think the rest of them like me very much yet because of the whole “always answering questions in class” thing. Which is rubbish. I only answer about a quarter of them now, and it’s a wrench to give up that much when everyone else can’t get them first try.
Anyway, club one: the stunts thing. I hated it. There was this long corridor where they’d set up toy knives and wire traps and things, as a test. They made me go from one end to the other. Guess what? I set off every single trap there. Lucky they were only toy knives, and even then they still hurt like crazy. I’ve got the bruises to prove it.
Club two: the buckball tryouts. Not bad. I saved all the goals. That’s the good part. The game’s boring and you spend most of it hovering and waiting. That’s the not good part. I made the team, though I think I’ll quit sooner or later. It’s not my cup of coffee. I only signed up to make my unicorn friend happy.
Club three: the rodeo thing. Now this was a good one! They had all kinds of things, like clowning and hay bale throwing and lassoing and whip shows and two-pony bronco, where you take turns riding each other and either hold on for as long as you can or buck the rider off as soon as you can.
Nailed them all!
Even clowning, because all it takes is me walking around knocking things over. That’s me every day. Didn’t like it much, though. The makeup was awful, and everyone laughed. I’m not doing that again.
Ah, but they didn’t laugh when I got the lasso and the whip. That was the best! It was amazing! The moment I held them in my mouth and threw them about, I was thinking: Where have you been all my life!? I could grab things and throw them around and twirl them in the air and jump through them. If I didn’t wrap myself up and gag myself at the end, I would have been perfect, and they all just assumed it was part of the act! At least my unicorn friend helped untie me.
Anyway, I had a really great day. Loved it. In fact, I think I might pick up one of two of these clubs. They’re not so bad.
Tomorrow night, I’m going to help my unicorn friend with her work. She’s hopeless without me.
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Good news indeed, for I have cracked the code of the ancient epic poetry of Equestria! Once I grasped the layers of intertextual allusion and fitted them into the Imperialist Paradigm-Shift Theory, the work simply spoke to me. This is most gratifying!
Meanwhile, my friend Make Do is trying new things at last. Although she immediately abandoned the buckball team, she has taken an interest in several fascinating extracurricular activities.
Rodeo she excels in, and self-defence classes have become a staple of her leisure time to a degree that is somewhat alarming. That said, her rationale is peculiar, for she seems to be under the impression that cities like Canterlot are plagued with a horrendous crime rate.
She has also become obsessed over the corridor stunt we gave her as an initiation test; endlessly, she demands I set it up and let her try and try and try until she can pass it without a single trap being activated. So far, her obsession has outmatched her performance, and she refuses to attempt any other stunt. I fear I may have to put the hoof down, if only I knew how to do so without upsetting her.
The Gemini twins report that their cousins down south know of a certain Monthling who looked after what might be our Make Do. If so, then my sympathy has only grown, but again I must insist on the utmost secrecy and discretion. I do not know what her reaction would be if she knew I’d been investigating her history behind her back.
From what I hear, Make Do – if this is the same one – was an orphan baby left outside the village one night in a pitiable and alarming state, saved only by Monthling’s stumbling across her while chasing a sheep, though now I forget why the chase happened. After several unsuccessful enquiries, even unto the faraway pegasus city of Cloudsdale, Monthling adopted the foal herself and raised her under the guise of being an aunt, and under the cover story that Make Do’s parents had died in a tragic lightning-related accident while working abroad. I do not blame her, for surely if Make Do discovered she was abandoned as a child, the shock would destroy her.
You must understand the sources on this are questionable – Gemini Flute stressed to me that their relatives can be fanciful and unreliable in this regard – but Gemini Lute also stressed that their relatives are keen investigators and incorrigibly nosy, so they may well have acquired this knowledge through unpleasant but accurate means. Whereas I do not know which of the twins to trust regarding this matter, I hope you appreciate I don’t want to put my friend on the spot over the issue, and for now I can only confess that I hope the story is not true.
Uncomfortably disturbed but defiantly optimistic,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I hope everything’s OK? You said in your last letter we’d had a break-in, and when I read that I couldn’t sleep a wink. That must have been quite a shock for you too. At least they didn’t take anything, but I send my love, just in case it helps.
Also, I’ve been an idiot. The unicorn I kept telling you about told me her name was Twilight Velvet. I should have asked. Boy do I feel a fool. I’ve clearly been pushing myself too hard to remember basic social niceties, I guess.
Rodeo is getting a bit boring, to be honest. It’s too easy. I’ve tried improvising with the whip, only they don’t like innovation much. Bunch of hidebound morons keep making me the clown these days. I think the rest of the group are just jealous.
Can you send some of my old stuff over? After that break-in, I’d feel better if it was closer to hoof.
Tests are coming up soon, so expect some silence from my end. Need to study like crazy, whether or not these are the easy exams. No point getting complacent.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I’m breaking the silence to thank you for sending me the old stuff. It makes me feel better.
I quit rodeo. I’m tired of being the clown. Makeup does something to my face, and I swear my eyes are getting puffier. Also, I hate being laughed at.
In fact, I might just quit all my clubs. They’re bogging me down. Except for that stunt one. I’m trying to beat the obstacle course, but I always fluff up on the stepping-stone trick at the end. At least I’m getting better at dodging.
Found a crossword puzzle group, though. Might try my luck there. Twilight Velvet says I should give my mind something different to do every now and then.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I got your letter. I’m sorry you’re not going to the Rainbow Falls. That darn budget, eh? I know you were really looking forward to that trip, and truth be told I’d have come with you if you were OK with it. I know I said otherwise last time, but I really, really would like to go and see it too. And I’d like to come home and see you again.
Make Do.
P.S. If you’re wondering about the smudges, we still have the stupid leak in the dormitory. It’s on and off.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I PASSED THE TESTS!
WITH. FLYING. COLOURS.
Sure, they’re baby tests. I still aced them. I scored the winning shot. I knocked them out of the park. I went from nought to sixty and left everyone else at the starting line eating my dust.
My teacher said she’d never known anyone do so well, and she was so confident in my talents that she suggested I take the ultra-rare GRINDSTONE course! It’s like a supplement to the regular course, so I’ll have to revise a bit more and attend more classes with a special tutor, not that it matters because I GOT THIS!
Can NOT tell you how excited I am right now! I could be going to the University of Canterlot after all!
Will tell you more nearer the time. Hearth’s Warming break’s about to start, and I’m signing up to stay over the holidays. Twilight Velvet’s staying too. It’s gonna be a blast!
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Everyone except Make Do has gone home for the holidays. Already, I feel emptier without them by my side, and am consoled only by how beautiful Canterlot is under the winter snow. Naturally, I shall send my presents home as soon as possible, but I wish to experience life away from home for a while. A new experience is worth a little sacrifice, methinks.
Continuing my studies over the holidays, though Make Do is proving a fascinating study subject in her own right. She seems utterly fearless around the cold – how I envy her! – and takes every opportunity to fly around the place admiring the buildings and the mountains and the cliffs overlooking the plains. She even swims in the moat, and that requires her to break the ice first! How on earth did she become so tough?
To my astonishment, she also insisted on continuing the stunt club, though purely as an excuse to pass that corridor test. Unfortunately, the stepping-stone trap remains a stumbling block. From time to time, I have experimented by varying the layout, initially with subtlety but over time in more elaborate and obvious ways. Not only does she fail to notice the changes; she always, without exception, stumbles on the same stepping-stone trap. I am at a loss to explain this oddly specific blindness on her part; when she avoids all other snares, she is graceful beyond grace.
Twinklestar sends me letters; the head injury resurfaced, and when she checked at the doctor’s, she was unfortunately informed that the knock had more severe consequences than first suspected. While tests are continuing, I have noticed she’s been less coordinated than usual of late, and it is entirely possible she will need surgery if the damage to her brain is severe.
I think I must close the stunt club.
Do not misunderstand me: it was delightful when I started. Nevertheless, this isn’t enough. If Twinklestar is the first of many, then I cannot in good faith maintain a society where anyone else could be hurt. You were right. It was foolish and selfish of me to open my own reckless behaviour to others. I’ve discussed this with Make Do, and she is adamant safety must come first. If Twinklestar shows no sign of improvement, I will shut the club down.
Incidentally, I was investigating Make Do’s private quarters, and the poor girl seems to have nothing. No keepsakes, no ornaments, nothing that gives her so much as a stamp of personality. Is this normal behaviour or a worrying sign?
Cautiously optimistic,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Correction: upon a secondary search, I did uncover a collection of poems under the floorboards beneath her bed. They seem to be mouth-written, yet the contents are breathtakingly awesome, worthy of the Great Bard. I had no idea she loved such romantic poetry, which admittedly is not on the course, but I am happy she is taking extracurricular pleasures of all kinds. Judging from the language, they’re quite old poems. Perhaps I shall ask her about ancient romantic poetry one of the days to engage her interest.
For your pleasure, I have copied some of the poems and sent them on to you. Perhaps you can identify the authorship? I must admit my studies haven’t left me well-equipped for figuring it out purely from the material!
Slightly intrigued,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
What the heck is going on? Did those house-breakers follow me here or something? Someone’s got my old stuff!
I need your help bad! Please tell me what to do! I can’t ask the security team! I can’t even ask my friends! If this gets out, I’m finished!
Please, please, please help me!
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I know this isn’t a week, but it’s urgent. Whoever took my old stuff put it back overnight. While I was sleeping.
What does this mean!? It’s all there, but I don’t get it. Who’d steal it and then put it back? What if they made copies or something? Have you got a blackmail message yet, because I haven’t!? What’s going on!?
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I know this isn’t a week, but I can’t sleep. Someone has definitely seen my old poetry stuff, and I don’t know why. Please let me know the instant you get a blackmail letter. I still haven’t had one yet.
If I ever find that thief, they’re dead.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I know this isn’t a week, but I literally feel sick. The ward says I’m fine, but I still feel sick. I can’t tell anyone except you. Why did I have it sent over? I must have been mad. Everyone knows crime is worse in the big cities. They still haven’t sent me a blackmail letter. Please help me!
And no, I’m not overreacting. You’re underreacting. Send a better letter next time.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Twilight Velvet is dead to me.
This morning when we were holed up in the dormitory because of the snow, she started going on about love poetry. I didn’t get it at first, but then I figured it out the moment she asked whether I was interested.
I almost lost it there and then. I made her tell me what she meant. Oh, she squirmed at first, but I got the truth out of her in the end. She’d only been rooting around like a pig through my private space and happily snorting my old stuff out for all and sundry to read!
That’s it. As of this moment in time, I have no friends here. The worst part is I thought she really cared. She even cried crocodile tears just to convince me she’d only done a little harmless thing instead of making me look like a pathetic joke. She took an interest, and now I know why. It was just another excuse for a prank.
Well, I’ve seen the light now. The only pony you can trust is yourself, and maybe not even then. I should have hidden the stuff better. You should have put better locks on the house. She should have respected my privacy. And because none of us got it right, I’m now in it deep.
I was right and you were wrong. I should have burned that stuff years ago. Maybe then the past wouldn’t come back to haunt me.
Weather’s awful, which suits me fine. At least I had nothing to do with it.
The smudges are because of the leak in the dormitory again, before you ask. That’s all it is. It gets worse in winter.
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I have made a terrible, terrible mistake, and I really need your help.
Those poems I sent you weren’t the work of some long-dead poet, as I’d so thoughtlessly assumed, but her own work. Make Do revealed as much to me when I was careless enough to reveal that I was the one who’d taken her papers from her overnight, and now she knows I sent those copies away, she refuses to have anything to do with me.
At the time, I was shocked and terrified by how personally she took this discovery, but since then I’ve had time to think carefully, and I know now why she’s upset. I read those poems, and with what I know from the Gemini twins and from the techniques I’ve studied in class, it’s too obvious what those poems really are. They’re not love poems. They’re confessions in poem form. They keep mentioning abandonment and feeling unwanted and unloved, only you have to really know what you’re looking for and what literary techniques she used to conceal it.
I’ve included my own notes and analyses separately, but suffice it to say I believe she was well aware of her sad history. The poems must have been her only safe way of expressing herself.
What have I done?
I’ve tried apologizing to her repeatedly, but no words can stop her looking at me with those hate-filled eyes. I can’t stand it any longer. Please tell me what I should do. I can’t believe there’s nothing I can do.
Terrifyingly heartbroken,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I’m coming home. We need to talk. Don’t try and stop me.
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
As promised, I am sending you this now I’ve returned to college.
Thanks for the talk. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I’ve burned the poems. Once I’ve found a way to ask, I’ll make that unicorn hand over all the copies she has. This is one artefact that should stay in the past.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I’ve burned all the copies, though I think she’s hiding one somewhere. I can’t get her to talk, though.
Winter Wrap-Up has been and gone. They do things differently here. It’s all unicorns, for a start. Not the weather, that’s still done by pegasi, but bad luck if you’re an earth pony here.
The next semester’s starting. I’ll follow your advice and join some clubs again. Extra lessons or not, I need to branch out. Maybe I’ll consider the rodeo again if I can get them to stop shoving me in the clown suit. They only did that because the rest of the group are a bunch of chums.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
We’ve moved on to the Great Bard at last. Our current play of the week is "The Turbulence", which is nice but hardly characteristic of his work. At least it fits neatly with the Imperialist Paradigm-Shift Theory. Set aside all the antiquated nonsense about evil curses and vengeful gods, and you can safely say the Great Bard was ahead of his time when it came to Equestria’s international relations.
That unicorn keeps apologizing to me. How do I get rid of her without using violence? Not that I have anything against violence, but it might cause comment.
At least everyone leaves me alone now. Sappy as this sounds, you’re the only pony I’ve ever needed. I don’t forget.
Got back into rodeo. They let me have the whip and the lasso now, which is as Nature intended. And I’m in the self-defence class. Nothing’s happened so far, but best to play it safe.
Sorry to hear you’re cancelling the spring trip too. You should move away from the farm and come live in the city. Just learn some self-defence before you do. I’d send you some money, but I’ve got enough on my plate as it is without adding a job to the mix.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Thank you for your help. I must confess I’m nervous. So far, I haven’t had the courage to tell her. Hopefully, I can get her alone in the dormitory tonight so I can make my case.
Wish me luck.
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I managed to scrounge up some money for our trip. Do not argue. Please accept it. I’ll be coming home once this semester ends. The Great Bard is a pretty big subject all by himself, so I’ll have plenty of work to do.
In other news, I’ve given up the stunts club. It wasn’t working out anyway.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
The good news is that she appears to have accepted the donation. At least she hasn’t forced me to take it back, and I took care to tell her the truth and explain what the money was for and why I was giving it.
The bad news is that she has nevertheless resisted all my attempts to engage her in conversation. I had hoped that we could discuss the Great Bard over lunch or before bed, but she still refuses to talk to me.
I don’t know what to do.
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Since you are so adamant on finding out where the money came from, I received an anonymous donation and an explanatory note from a party or parties unknown. That, I hope, should prove satisfactory.
Have you booked the tickets yet? Rainbow Falls is just begging to be explored, and you’ve been after this for months.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I have a confession to make. Yes, I seem to be doing this a lot lately. Such conduct reflects badly on my character.
I’m not a flourishing scholar. I’ve been struggling since we started. If it wasn’t for Make Do, I would have failed by now. That pass mark I received in my tests was because of her.
I feel like such a fraud, and I’m sorry for my deception. Now that Make Do has gone so long without helping me, I fear the truth will out, so I should be the one to give it to you.
Please don’t be mad.
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
All right, I admit it: Twilight Velvet gave me the money and asked me to forgive her. The business with the poems wasn’t a smug prank. She was just stupid.
My studies of the Great Bard are going well. Now we’ve moved on to the tragedies, I’m not totally confident, but I’m getting there. The best they’re saving till last, thank goodness.
Weather is OK. Spring’s my favourite time; we’re doing a lot of rain management, and it’s always a hoot to pile it up on top of some jerk’s house and let it soak them every time they step outside. Did it to Pirouette a couple of times, because she started trying to call me names again. That was good.
The rodeo club put on a show for the whole college yesterday. Let’s just say a certain charming pegasus stole the show with her trophy-snatching whip-and-lasso fire trick. Good grief, you should have heard the roar of the crowd! I was an animal out there! Even the obstacle course ponies didn’t get a cheer that big! It was the best night of my life! They even asked me how I did it, though obviously I didn’t tell them everything. A few trade secrets remain safe with me.
Hope you’re looking forward to Rainbow Falls!
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Thank you thank you so much for understanding me. I don’t deserve parents like you.
I saw Make Do at the rodeo. She was fantastic. I’ve never seen her so happy, and I’m proud of her managing to go so far from where she started.
I’m sorry I don’t have more to say. I’m tied up with studies at the moment. Apologies for the smudge marks. There appears to be an unpredictable leak in the dormitory.
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Sorry about the flippancy of my last letter. Yes, I agree it was very kind of Twilight Velvet to do that for us. Yes, I should have given her more credit for trying to repair our relationship.
So I’m sorry to have to say this, but I flat out do not trust her. How can I? She had her chance, and she blew it. She can’t buy forgiveness.
My last word on the matter. Period.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Looks like you were right again. Last night, I forgave Twilight Velvet.
It’s not because I suddenly trust her, to be clear. However, she’s been in a bad way all week. She stopped turning up to classes a couple of times, and she never speaks out or answers any questions. Her friends seemed concerned, but they couldn’t get anything out of her either. She’d even stopped studying in the dormitory; until last night, I had no idea where she went.
Well, last night I had a look for her around the place. Hardly anyone was around, so it shouldn’t have been hard to find one unicorn. Still, it took me hours to search, and in the end I found her hiding in an alcove in the courtyard. She’d been trying those secret experimental spellcasting things. Something called a Pep-Me-Up Spell, this time. I don’t know if I told you about them, but let’s just say if a porter found her instead of me, she’d be out of the college faster than a flap of a wing.
I got her back to the dormitory no problem. She wasn’t taking things well. Kept going on about how horrible she was, and how much she kept lying and hurting ponies. What could I do? I tried to calm her down, gave her a glass of water, told her to rest, but she was in one of Those Moods, and the capital letters were earned. Trust me.
I couldn’t stay mad at her. Somewhere in all the raving, she told me how guilty and ashamed she was to have hurt me so badly. Well, she was in tears. I had no choice. I said forget it, it’s forgiven, just rest. At least she calmed down after that.
In my defence, I had no idea she was taking it that hard. I thought she’d mope for a bit and then move on. That’s how it works. You can’t focus on the past for too long when the future’s still coming at you.
This morning, I checked up on her. She seemed less unhappy, let’s say that. Still not saying much. I’ll keep an eye on her for the next week and see how it goes.
While I’m writing this, I have to say I feel a bit bad for her. Tell me honestly; is this my fault, or is she overreacting? I’m not sure, and I’d appreciate some advice, if you please.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I don’t have many items to report today, and I’ll explain later when we meet face-to-face. However, I at least wanted to say this; Make Do is the sweetest, kindest, most reliable friend I ever had, and I don’t deserve one as fine as her.
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Twilight Velvet is holding up fine. She broke down a couple of times in class, and she’s not telling anyone what happened, but overall I think she’s back to normal. She’s studying again, at least.
Thanks for the advice. I think I’ll try to be less of a jerk next time. I make no promises. It wasn’t easy the first time.
Coming home soon enough. First, I’ve got the best play of them all to study: "Masque of the Elven Pony". I am not lying when I say I’ve been champing at the bit for this one. The magic, the elven folklore, the creative reinterpretations of pegasus history, the pranks and traps and riddles, the swordfights and sarcastic tone: if it wasn’t a few centuries too early, I’d swear this was the classic No-Limits Philosophy text. It’s smart, it’s funny, it’s self-referential without being so in-your-face about it. What’s not to love?
Also, I quit the rodeo club. It was fun, but now Twilight Velvet’s bought me a whip, I don’t need them anymore.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
As promised, I’m sending you a letter to let you know how it went at Rainbow Falls. Here’s what we’ve found out:
·The walk up to the falls is a death-trap. They seriously need to send a few earth ponies to tidy up the path.
·The caves are actually quite interesting. I dodged a few collapsing stalactites and woke up a couple of angry bears, but other than that, we found a lot of rare minerals and unusual rock formations near the back of a couple of caves. I’ve made lists!
·The trees here are rubbish. I knocked one over by accident, and all I was doing was leaning against it to rest for a minute. Those earth ponies are sorely needed.
·The trading market nearby is an utter rip-off. They’re flogging antiques there I could fake with a knife, a bit of paint, and half a potato.
·The falls are AWESOME.
·We can stand in one place for over an hour listening to the crash of red and orange and yellow and green and blue and violet. Aunt Monthling timed it.
·The falls are AWESOME.
·Aunt Monthling can’t hold her rainbows. She got some on her hoof and licked it, and I’ve never seen her move so fast. We had her breathing multicoloured fire within seconds. Of course, I tried a lick, and it didn’t bother me at all.
·The falls are AWESOME.
·You can get some neat souvenirs at the Rainbow Falls Gift Shop. I got you a sample of Rainbow Falls authentic rainbow drink, if you think you can handle it.
·The falls are AWESOME.
Should be back at college in a couple of days. Will tell you more nearer the time. Until then, keep the Great Bard warmed over for me. I want you to test me when I get back.
Make Do.
Dear Make Do,
I could not wait two days. You made the journey sound so tantalizing that I would break out of college and race to join you were I less capable of self-control. Also, I’m pleased to see you practise using the bullet point method I described. It’s very sweet of you to take my advice. So in kind, I reply:
·Perhaps one of the days, I’ll give that path a visit. This might make a good race course, though I haven’t decided whether with tortoise shells or with proper sleds. The former strikes me as more excitingly creative.
·Well done on the stalactite dodging! That must have been quite a performance, especially when the bears showed up. Please don’t put yourself out regarding the lists, though. I’m afraid geology is not my cup of tea.
·Alas, I have heard that the area near Rainbow Falls has been vetoed by earth pony renovators for years. If the improvements haven’t happened by now, I doubt they ever will. Although the unpredictable trees would make a fascinating obstacle course.
·Odd. My parents always tell me that the trading market there is one of the most dependable and trustworthy in the world. Princess Celestia herself attends to enforce the rules.
·I don’t know how you can stand in one place for over an hour and not develop cramp. Truth be told, being forced to stay in one position for so long would wear me down to insanity within minutes.
·Naturally, I’m game for the hottest rainbow drinks you can concoct against me. My palate has survived jalapenos, chilli peppers, and the pure spice essence created ex nihilo in the most secretive and outlandish unicorn alchemical labs ever devised. Test my palate! I am not afraid!
·The falls are indeed awe-inspiring in their majesty, are they not? Although I sadly have never seen them up close, Mom and Dad used to show me famous paintings of the falls throughout the many galleries and shops scattered across Vanhoover.
It will prove my greatest pleasure to have the honour of your company. Typically, I am experiencing some difficulty with the Great Bard. However, I remain confident a mind like yours will miraculously exceed expectations as soon as it’s back in its natural habitat.
Surprisingly touched,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I got back OK. Twilight Velvet’s as soppy as ever. At least we managed to catch up on the Great Bard together, though she might at least have made an effort without me.
Credit where it’s due: she drank the rainbow stuff like it was water and asked for seconds. Not so much as a weepy eye. This is a unicorn to be reckoned with.
Simply cannot wait for the next holiday! We have to travel more often!
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
So far, the final semester has proven to be a trial, and only Make Do and my friends have prevented me from experiencing a nervous breakdown. Twinklestar has made a complete recovery sans any complications at all. Nevertheless, I have shut down the club both out of respect for her and out of the increasing desire to not succumb to stress by biting off more than I can safely chew.
Items for discussion follow:
·If I ever described the Great Bard as the toughest challenge yet in my academic career, then I can now safely amend that to second toughest challenge, because the Sunlit Centuries topic of post-exploratory art and science has surpassed it. Currently, we are studying the Endless Playtime segments which continued the epic themes of before and fused them with a growing appreciation of Princess Celestia. That, believe it or not, is the extremely abridged version of only a tenth of the material!
·Frustratingly, the Gemini twins and Citrine are both becoming rude and snobbish. As much as I insist they are merely responding to the increasing pressures of academia, I find their behaviour distinctly unpleasant and intolerable. Thank goodness for Pirouette! Were it not for her sharp tongue and stern eye, many a friendship would be lost. We need someone of her temperament and strength to keep bad behaviour in check.
·Twinklestar talks of shaving off the Equestrian Literature course and focusing her efforts on Unicorn Studies. We will be sorry to see her go, but I trust she knows her own mind better than we do, and she is supremely confident in her decision. Although we reduced her to tears when we organized a going-away party for her. She really is a lovely pony and deserves that much.
·Much interest has been generated by the announcement of a prom at the end of the year. Myself, I see little to get the blood running, but Pirouette in particular speaks of little else. Pairs are forming with alarming spontaneity around us, including some utter surprises (Gemini Flute, for instance, was spotted sneaking off one night with a frankly dull specimen she’d never even spoken about, much less spoken to, before, though modesty forbids me from identifying the eye-witness). Proms strike me as deathly dull affairs, so I endure what I can.
·A few of the girls have warmed up to Make Do considerably over the last few weeks, and not merely because she’s more than happy to help them with revision. Dapperdown even asked her if she’d like to go to the prom with him, though I doubt she’s any more interested in the event than I am.
·Oddly, I’ve noticed a lot of keen interest in me from the Mathematics students across the courtyard. My route to and fro classes requires me to pass their grand building, and sometimes a gaggle of them are outside watching me. I can’t say I like the attention much. I suspect they’re preparing a prank. Either that, or Make Do is rubbing off on me and they’re just prospecting for prom partners.
Depressingly, study beckons, and one must heed its call of duty. As much as it pains me to write this, I doubt there will be many letters for a while. Most of the girls are ceasing their correspondences too in order to study. For now, I will simply do what I can to make you proud.
Irritatingly bogged down,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
The stallions here are nuts. We’re buckling down as it is, trying not to crack under the pressure, and the idiots keep going on about some prom. Like I give a monkey’s.
Twilight Velvet’s getting weird looks wherever she goes too, especially from those Math kids opposite. Bunch of creeps and stalkers. At least I’ve taught her some self-defence moves, just in case.
Weather duty is pretty much nothing now, as it’s blue skies all the time. Since Twilight Velvet asked me to, I’ve taken to sitting on the benches outside and helping her with the work. I don’t think her mind’s on it. Her heart certainly isn’t. She keeps looking at those Math weirdoes all the time with that daydream look on her face. She couldn’t concentrate to save her life.
Proud to report I kneed a stallion in the groin today. That’ll stop them asking me to their stupid dance, or whatever. Besides, “no” means “no”. I’ve reported him for harassment too, because otherwise ponies will think I’ve gone violent for no reason. But you gotta show them who’s boss.
Hope you’re OK.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I got told off for kneeing that stallion in the groin last week. Apparently, it doesn’t count as harassment if he only asks once. At least the little beggar’s steering clear of me now. As are all the stallions, in fact. Suits me fine. Everyone gets what they wants.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Good grief. Now Twilight Velvet’s got herself told off for kneeing another stallion in the groin! All the girls liked what I did so much – it turns out the stallions have been bothering a lot of mares recently – and there have been what’s called “copycat” incidents. The headteacher had to make a college-wide announcement to stop it. See? I’m having a positive influence after all.
Twilight Velvet got caught out when she was studying with me, and this stallion came up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. Bless her, she’s been taking my lessons to heart. I don’t like being touched either, and not without warning. She’s got good technique too.
Unfortunately, she got caught by a passing math professor and he took the boy’s side instantly. The look he gave me, you’d think I was the one who did it! Anyway, Twilight Velvet took his boring lecture with good grace. She’s such a martyr at times. I almost did the arguing for her, but thought it best to keep out of it.
Not coincidentally, she hasn’t turned up at the dormitory yet. I think she’s feeling a bit guilty, to be honest.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I got suspended for a few days in order to “be an example for others”. The poor stallions might have been annoying us, but hitting them just because of that is not OK and I have learned my lesson. (At least I got plenty of revision done during my timeout.)
Twilight Velvet’s acting weird, though. She keeps disappearing for long periods and then not telling anyone where she’s been. I think I ought to follow her one of the days. If she’s experimenting with spells again, I’ll never forgive myself.
Unusually sober,
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I have some shocking and disturbing news.
Twilight Velvet has fallen in love.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a lie-down and something sweet to bite.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I have some surprising and wonderful news!
Over the past few weeks, the news of the prom and the keen interest of the stallions in the college has led to some unfortunate incidents, not least of which was that my poor friend Make Do cracked under the constant pressure and assaulted a luckless stallion, whose only crime was to ask her quite politely if she would be interested in attending the prom with him.
In her defence, she has endured a steady stream of suitors – some fatuous, some sincere – for days, but the incident resulted in a temporary expulsion, which does not seem to have been quite the soul-searching opportunity it was meant to be. If anything, she seemed to enjoy the time to herself considerably.
Anyway, after that ungainly lead-in: one of the stallions from the Mathematics department finally plucked up the courage to ask me to go to the prom with him! Not straightaway, of course, for I fear we had something of a miscommunication issue initially. However, when I went to seek him out later in the ward, he assured me he did not blame me for responding so suddenly. If anything, the dear thing blamed himself for being so standoffish and cowardly all that time.
He’s a dear old soul, and loves his puzzles. I’ve visited him frequently at the ward, and he would insist on me bringing some new sudoku or crossword puzzle to pass the dull time alone. We solved a lot of them together, truth be told! One time, we even arranged a game of bingo, though most of the rest of the ward struck me as not getting into the spirit of the occasion.
His name is Night Light, or Nachtlicht where he comes from. He told me his family had moved from the Grittish Isles to find a more respectable home nearer Canterlot, the home of great mathematicians and philosophers.
His is a gentle and sensitive soul. To while away the time, he writes love poetry dedicated to me, and while I must admit his style is mechanical, his emotion I am sure is pure and wholesome. In addition, he is very meticulous in his cleaning, and always looks neat and tidy about the mane in particular whenever I pay him a visit.
Oh Mom! Oh Dad! I was blind, but now I see! I believe I am falling into the embrace of true love! He’s perfect!
So far, only you, Make Do, and Twinklestar are aware of my feelings. Make Do took it very strangely, but Twinklestar assures me she has heard nought save for good reports of his character and reputation, and what a lucky filly I am to have attracted him! Soon enough, I will tell you more, but for now I can only wait until he emerges from the ward and forgives me for my foolish conduct.
Lighter than air and brighter than the sun,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Studies continue well. Weather continues well. Twilight Velvet is now a giggling idiot.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Night Light came out of the ward full of bonhomie and joie-de-vivre. Such is the bountiful goodness of his character that he has cheerfully forgiven me for our initial misunderstanding, and without hesitation introduced me to the philosophies of the Great Germane Scholars of the Grittish Isles!
I’ve never been so fascinated! He talks so passionately about the mathematical support for the current theories of magic, of the budding romance of statistics and probability throughout history, of even the bitter and deadly rivalries between Lipstick and Nutter over who invented calculus. I had no idea that ponies and numbers could have such intimate and complex trysts hidden in the history books!
He is a genius. So far, he has taught me how to speak a few words of Pferdesprache, a harsh but rich language much in currency among the Germane Scholars. He tied my mane into a bun to better demonstrate the restrained styles of his native home. He knows everything about anything that’s been imported; I showed him a pencil, a piece of paper, and my current textbook, and from sight alone he was able to describe the forests where their materials came from, the factories where they were assembled, and the likely price range given current trading agreements.
He even used to be a protester back in his homeland, though he was only protesting in favour of a new numbers-based calendar which would have been more accurate than the current one. Anyway, he got lost finding the meeting place and ended up with a useless placard at a train station six miles away. But oh, he tried. Such spirit! Such nobility!
In short, he’s a delight to have around. Unfortunately, I appear to be alone in my convictions, as Twinklestar and Pirouette leave the dining table when he joins me, and Make Do has refused to allow him inside the dormitory. They just don’t see him like I do.
Ecstatically and wholeheartedly in love,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
My studies are suffering a bit because Twilight Velvet keeps going on about her ruddy math star. He’s a wet blanket. I’ve walked into bollards with more personality than him.
I don’t study with her anymore because she frankly leaves me gagging, but it’s just not the same without her nearby. I told her she’ll feel the pinch if she doesn’t focus on her studies, not that she’s listening to me. It’s embarrassing. She’s just setting herself up for heartache, and there’s not a word I can say to make her change her mind.
Exams are coming up. I have to focus, so don’t expect much in the way of letter-writing. That’s all I’ll say for now.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Aced the tests. Of course. Looks like the University of Canterlot is in the bag.
Will tell you more another time. I’m off to light up Canterlot tonight!
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom,
Please do not show this to Dad. Unorthodox as my request is, I’m convinced this is exclusively your field of expertise.
It is imperative that you respond as soon as possible. Night Light has finally asked me to accompany him to the prom!
He’s shown me so many wonders that I must repay him somehow, but I regret to inform you that I am at a loss for how to do so proportionately. My only attempt so far has involved inviting him to bungee-jump off the bell tower with me for an exciting brush with death, but seeing the mere height alone frightened him so much that he was inconsolable until I carried him back down to ground level. Luckily, he has no ill will towards me and has accepted my apologies with good grace.
How do I repay him? What should I say to engage his interest? What dress should I wear? What is the correct courtly protocol for a lady when interacting socially with a gent of his background? How much makeup should be applied, and to what extent is this dishonest? I have enclosed a full photograph of myself, as kindly provided by my trusted friend Pirouette; in all candidness, what should I do to improve my bearing and appearance? I suspect I need to lose some weight, but I simply do not trust my judgement here.
Please respond as fully as you can! Nothing less than perfection will be my gift to him.
Utterly shaken,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Now that the exams are over, everyone keeps going on about the prom. If I’m honest, it’s making me nervous. Twinklestar and Pirouette tense up every time it’s mentioned, and the other girls won’t shut up about it, but Twilight Velvet’s gone loco: she’s trying on lipstick and eye shadow, getting dresses practically daily from home, keeps pushing away cakes and chocolates every time I offer her a treat at the dining hall, and now she’s going on about etiquette and manners like she thinks the world will end if she forgets to say “please”.
Is it that big a deal? I thought it was just like a big party, but now I’m starting to wonder.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
This is getting annoying. Two days ago, Twilight Velvet tried on this ugly green dress and asked me if it made her look overweight. What the heck is wrong with her? She looks about the same as everyone else, yet she acts like she’s turning into an ogre.
It must be a disease. The Gemini twins said they were giving up on the prom, because no one wanted to go out with them. I told them they’re well out of it and got lucky, but everyone else shushed me and talked to them like they were on their deathbeds. We’ve had a few girls break down around college, including Pirouette of all ponies! Just fell down in the corridor one day crying her eyes out because she hadn’t found a dress yet. The stallions are getting skittish too; this one boy in class screamed and ran out the room, and all I did was ask him if he had a spare pencil.
There was stuff like this during the exams, but at least there it made sense. Has everyone gone mad?
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I think I’m the one going mad. Not one pony in that place sees the prom as anything but the biggest thing ever. They stare at me whenever I say I’m not going.
Frankly, it’s creeping me out. Is it so wrong to want to be alone? No one else does.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I gave in. I’m going. Twilight Velvet was over the moon when I told her. She got me trying on her dresses, only there must have been something wrong with them because they were all tight around the middle.
I’m not going with anyone, though. I only want to see what all the fuss is about. I’m taking my whip, just in case I need something to hold onto if it’s worse than I think. Besides, you never know what scum might turn up.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
It sucked. Half the time, I was standing around or sitting around doing nothing, and the other half of the time I was getting pestered by ponies trying to talk about nonsense. Stuff like whose dress is the most classy, and which couple were the best.
The food was tasteless. The drink was bland. The lights were blinding when they weren’t tacky. And when they finally got me to dance, I got thrown out because it was dull dancing and I tried to do a routine with the whip.
I’ll tell you what was nice, though. On the way back from the main hall, I sneaked into Canterlot under cover of darkness and found the Canterlot Archives. They’ve got some good stuff in there! The Lost Satires of Sharp Tongue the Smarmy. The First Equestrian Dictionary of Jigglypuff the Giant. The Early Scientific Philosophies of Lock and Key, the Blacksmith Twins of Brownington. Best of all: I passed every single locked door and magical security system the place had. It was a cinch! Ooh, do stolen fruits taste that much sweeter!
So not a total loss, I’m happy to report. And Twilight Velvet and Night Light had fun. I’m happy for them.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Tonight was the most romantic night of my life. Night Light and I enjoyed ourselves immensely, from the moment the trumpet fanfare announced the couples to the ballroom waltz we savoured to the sweet orchestral divertimento. Not a hoof was out of step, not a grace note out of tune. Everyone around us was excited or dignified or merely cheerful. I don’t remember a single sour face in all the ones we hailed and greeted.
Night Light was a true gentlecolt! Of course, he’s better-versed in Grittish Isle manners than in Equestrian ones, so we had a couple of misunderstandings. For instance, traditionally the Grittish lady leads the dance, so we spent almost a minute waiting for each other to start before we realized what we were doing! He was also under the impression that the Prom Queen and King were announced before the official dance, so he complained about the bad manners of the other dancers for a while before I explained it to him.
To top it all, who do you believe was the lucky couple tonight!? Us! Poor Night Light almost fainted under all the attention. When the stallions carried him on their shoulders and paraded him around the room – those silly boys must have had too much to drink – he shouted in Pferdesprache the whole time out of sheer nerves.
Citrine apologised for her poor behaviour over the last few weeks. So many good turns tonight! I can’t believe nights like that could ever exist outside of a fairy tale.
Forever and ever the luckiest mare of all time,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
I’m a bit concerned. By now, you’d have sent me at least one letter back, even if only to tell me not to use bad language. Is everything OK?
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Why aren’t you replying to my letters? Please respond ASAP.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
Whether you want me to or not, I’m coming over. It’s been a month since you sent me anything. You can’t stop me coming, so don’t bother replying. This is just a heads-up.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Strange news. About a month ago, Make Do left the college without a word. At the time, I assumed she had some private business to attend to, and given our history together I thought it best to refrain from prying. However, Night Light and I are growing increasingly concerned. Not only have we heard nothing from her for so long, but the Gemini twins inform me that her dear Aunt Monthling has mysteriously vanished too.
Truth be told, we are worried about her. Much as she prefers her independence, I refuse to believe she would willingly avoid talking to me for so long if something untoward had not happened to her.
Studies continue in preparation for the new year, though Night Light has recommended we both take a sabbatical and go and look for our friend. I don’t wish to pry, but neither do I wish to abandon her.
Confessedly scared,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Mom and Dad,
As much as it goes against your advice, we have decided to take the sabbatical and seek out our friend Make Do. I refuse to believe that she would go for this long without wanting to assure us of her good health.
Remorsefully disobedient but unshakeable,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
I figured you’d come after me and possibly be smart enough to check where others had not. In case you find this, I want to make a few things clear, in your own inimitable style (ha!):
·I’m fine.
·Aunt Monthling’s fine.
·Don’t try to find me.
·This does not concern you.
·You won’t succeed anyway.
Please, I ask you as a friend. Do not ignore this message.
Lots of love from,
Make Do.
Dear Night Light,
One month so far, and no sign of her. Trail to Ammonian Temples of the Sphinx: cold. Trail to Ibis Island: cold. Trail to Saddle Arabian capital: cold.
So much for the economic origin of the paper. Make Do must be smarter than I thought. How about the economic origin of the pencil?
Your beloved,
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
I have good news! The pencil trail proved to be a successful trail indeed. I am never wrong in these matters, and as the great philosopher Dandelion Mane once said, (I translate, of course), “There is no such thing as a tangent. All things are connected, and the trick is to spot the secret thread, however thin.”
To wit: there has been a sighting in the Amaponian Ruins of a pegasus who may or may not be Make Do.
To wit: one reported theft of sacred artefact from temple, the nature of, (undisclosed), this be according to natives, local.
To wit: heading west to Arimaspi Place.
Come quickly! I send my love. Also a very nice postcard I got from the Amaponian Ruins Gift Shop.
Your beloved,
Night Light.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
Change course at once! The trail now goes to Clover’s Corner!
To wit: I met a traveller from an antique land.
To wit: he said a pegasus (who may or may not be Make Do) interrogated him in a very disturbed manner while he was travelling all over the Arimaspi Place.
To wit: he said she was looking for a map, and not the paper one he offered to her.
To wit: he followed her into the Bone Palace, and they found a map pointing to Clover’s Corner.
To wit: she destroyed the map and flew away.
Her behaviour, if I may write freely, indicates what Professor Oil Lamp would describe as “obsessive-aggressive-possessive-regressive-offensive-defensive-and-rather-suggestive objective fixation of great agitation and keen consternation in the face of negation, her life’s reputation, and above all, her station in life” syndrome (somewhat lost in translation: it was shorter in Pferdesprache).
Come quickly! I send more love to you! Also a not very nice postcard I got from the Arimaspi Place Gift Shop.
Your beloved,
Night Light.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
Success! I saw her on the train to the desert, exactly as predicted if she were heading for Clover’s Corner! True, she slipped out partway and flew off, but I believe she did not see me! This must be her persecution and paranoia complex (of which I have studied so keenly) showing up!
Come quickly! I send all of my love to you! Sorry also: the Gift Shop at the station had no postcards.
Your beloved,
Night Light.
Dear Night Light,
I have found her. No need to follow. Please head back to our last rendezvous point and wait for me.
I think she needs some time alone.
Your beloved,
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Aunt Monthling,
My last letter to you. Left here in case you come across it somehow.
Unsent. I don’t know if they have a mail service where you are now, but heck knows what it’d look like.
I wish I’d gotten further. I wish I knew where you were. This is not right.
I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m bad news. That’s why this happened to you. I really wish you’d left me on that hill and had nothing to do with me. I wish you hadn’t taken pity on me. I don’t deserve any.
With all my love, for what that’s worth now.
Sorry about the smudges.
RIP.
Dear Night Light,
I’m coming back. Make Do has been through enough. All she wants me to tell you is that she found out why she was the way she was. I’m sorry I can’t be more explicit than that, but she trusts me and I cannot break that trust.
Make Do has promised me she’ll be back home by winter. She has some unfinished business to attend to.
Your beloved,
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
I understand completely. One must be philosophical about these things.
Your beloved,
Night Light.
Dear Mom and Dad,
For our sabbatical, we’ve decided to travel the world. There are so many sights we have yet to see, and my friend Make Do assures us she will return from her own travels in time for Hearth’s Warming. We have so much to discuss, but first we must wait and see how things go. I fear I cannot be more forthcoming than that, but believe me when I say you will receive an explanation.
Twilight Velvet and Night Light.
To TV and NL,
Your friend is no more. Keep your noses out of our business.
???
Dear Mom and Dad,
We urgently need to leave. Make Do is experiencing some difficulties. Again, we apologize for being so vague, but assure you we will explain everything when we get back. Truth be told, we’re not sure about the details ourselves, so must investigate further. Do not worry; we are not prying. I have learned my lesson there.
Twilight Velvet and Night Light.
To TV and NL,
You were seen skulking around Clover’s Corner last week. Forget your friend. Get your croups out before it’s too late.
???
To TV and NL,
You were seen near Griffonstone. Let me make this simple: Make Do is beyond your help. If you don’t want to end up the same way, turn back now!
???
To TV and NL,
You were seen in Dragon Country. Take a ruddy hint! Make Do is dead. You will be dead too if you keep going. This is your last warning.
???
Dear Night Light,
I’ve got her. She doubled back to the Amaponian Temples. All those letters were just ploys to keep us away. She’s not dead.
Your beloved,
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Night Light,
We’re going home. Our friend is no longer our friend. If we hurry, we’ll make it back in time for Hearth’s Warming.
Disappointed,
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
This is not something the mail pony dropped through your door, in case of tampering. I don’t trust them. This was hoof-delivered. I only needed time to think. Consider this your Hearth’s Warming gift from me.
I owe you a proper explanation, and I’m sorry for leading you on that merry-go-round before. For the love of Pete, please burn this as soon as you’ve read it. I don’t want a trace of my old life left.
Here’s the story you need to memorize and tell everyone else: after she returned to her home on the farm, Make Do discovered that her Aunt Monthling had taken a holiday ahead of her, because she loved to travel to exotic places so much she couldn’t wait. This time, she wanted to travel to the Frozen North for her next great adventure. Unfortunately, she became very ill because of the cold and her age, and she walked outside in the storm and didn’t make it back. Make Do travelled north and ventured into the eternal blizzard to find her. Neither of them were seen again. It was a tragic accident.
I hope you’ve got that memorized, because I don’t trust anyone else with this. You deserve to know what really happened, though:
I was abandoned on that hill because I was dead weight. My parents were onto something big. So big they had to flee the Amaponian Temples with a killer maniac hot on their trail. I don’t know what happened to them. All I know is that they left me with a golden ring.
Aunt Monthling hid the ring well away from the farm, leaving only a few clues so I could work out its location when the time was right. Whatever the maniac was doing for all those years – searching for its trail all over Equestria, I guess – he finally tracked her down in her own home.
I hope you understand why I’m skipping to the next part.
Needless to say, where that maniac had failed, I succeeded. I found Aunt Monthling’s clues and followed them to the buried ring. She’d also buried her confession. I doubt I’d have gotten far without it.
Any sane pony would have left well enough alone. Only a fool would get any deeper into this horror show. I hate to admit it, but I was that fool.
Maybe it was revenge, maybe it was a distraction, maybe it was a way of getting closure, but I traced the ring's origins to all kinds of places, and then found the map to where the ring was supposed to go. The ring itself isn’t important. What was important was the location of the artefact it was designed to protect: the Sapphire Stone.
I’ve located the stone now. It almost got me killed a few times, but thanks to your training in the stunt club and one or two other things I picked up here and there, I got out in one piece. The stone’s in my possession. Now I just need to figure out why it’s so important.
This ends the story.
I’m sorry I turned you away. I didn’t want you to get involved at any point. I sent those fake messages hoping it’d keep you away from my selfish quest, but in hindsight I should have phrased it better. I understand you must hate my guts right now, but please believe me: I want you as far away from this as possible.
Whoever this guy is, he’s not messing around. He’s playing for keeps. This stone must be worth a lot to him, and I don’t want your life on my conscience too. I lost my chance at normality before I was even born. You don’t deserve the same fate. Anyway, it’s better if a loner with no hope risks her neck, not someone with friends or a future or loved ones to miss them.
I don’t want you to feel pity for me. I don’t want you to ignore this and go throwing yourself into it like it’s another stunt, OK? I want you safe.
That’s why Make Do is officially gone. That’s why I destroyed any evidence of her being there and faked her death. That’s why we can’t talk anymore. Forget about the rest of this. Go back and memorize that cover story like your life depends on it, because it almost certainly does. You won’t be able to follow me, but for goodness’ sake please don’t even try. I will never forgive you if you come back a third time.
Please.
Your friend.
Lots of love from,
???
To a Miss Twilight Velvet,
We have your friend. You have until midday on Winter Wrap-Up (busy time, I trust?) to meet us at the train station in Canterlot. Give us the map to the stone’s secret hiding place.
No heroics. No companions. No surprises of any kind, or I promise you that no living soul will ever see her again.
Dr. C.
Dear Night Light,
Meet me at the train station in Canterlot at midday on Winter Wrap-Up. Let no one see you. There may be fighting.
This is not a date. This is a hostage rescue.
Your beloved,
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
Date, hostage rescue: one so easily turns into the other.
I will be there. Do not worry. I will have mathematics on my side.
Your beloved,
Night Light.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
I’m writing this from a location I cannot reveal. During the commotion, I slipped away. I’m good at escaping death traps. Believe me, I’ve had practice.
Smart of your friend to bring the whole Royal Guard and Princess Celestia down upon us. One thing rats don’t like is bright sunlight. Numbers advantage helps too. At least I can’t imagine old Doctor Caballeron showing his face anywhere civilized anytime soon. Not when the Princess Celestia herself has it plastered all over the city. Shame they got his name wrong. I don’t remember it being spelled “WANTED”.
But please keep out of this. You got lucky. You won’t get lucky twice.
Look, I’m grateful for your help, but Caballeron was a sideshow. He’s only acting under orders. There’s much worse than him running around out there, and I don’t want you going off half-cocked just because you got a bunch of clowns under lock and key. Truth be told, Caballeron's a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to exotic villainy.
What did you tell Princess Celestia?
Lots of love from,
???
Dear “???”,
In case you come sneaking back to my home to drop off another letter, I’ve concealed this in the box so only you will notice it. Night Light taught me the spell needed to make it glow should the right pony come close, so there’s no danger of it falling into the wrong hooves. In any case, they’d need to find the ink revealing code in the ornamental juniper outside, and to know what time to apply it to the invisible ink. You’re smart enough to recognize the playwright Barley’s tricks when he was Celestia’s spy. Who else would know?
In case you’re worried about your cover, don’t be. As far as Princess Celestia is concerned, I was the kidnapped hostage and Night Light received the ransom note. We’ve destroyed the original and in any case, it turns out Doctor Caballeron has a list of charges a mile long. We don’t think he’ll be showing his face near Canterlot anytime soon.
But I can tell her. I can bring this whole thing to a close, put that maniac behind bars, and give you a normal life. And I will if you don’t explain why you haven’t done it already.
At the very least, consider this proposal: I will refuse to involve myself further in this business, as per your wishes, on the condition that you give me a full account of what’s going on. Set up a fake identity, disguise yourself, change your name: if you feel you must do all that, do it. But I want to believe I can trust you. This is too much too soon, and I’m keeping secrets that are hurting me. If we’re still friends, I want you to believe you can trust me too.
Eternally and faithfully yours,
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
As you wish. You’re making a mistake, but if this is the price I have to pay, then here it comes.
I can’t solve this with Princess Celestia’s help because it’d be my neck on the line the instant that happens.
There. Is that enough for you? I’ll be back at an unspecified time to pick up your answer. Leave it the same place you left the last one.
???
Dear “???”,
No, it isn’t enough. You’ve got one week. Then I’m going to Princess Celestia.
If it stops you from getting yourself killed, then I will do it.
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
I am a criminal.
Don’t ask.
???
Dear “???”,
That could mean anything from petty theft to war crime. You’ve got three days left.
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
I said don’t ask!
???
Dear “???”,
You’ve got one day. If I don’t see a satisfactory reply by morning, you’ll have no further chances.
I want to trust you, Make Do. You know you’re not the only one here with terrible secrets. Why won’t you trust me?
Your friend,
Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
All right.
I give up.
If I’m doomed for doing it, I’m doomed for doing it, so given the choices I might as well do it and tell you what I know. I hope you appreciate this wasn’t easy to write.
The crime in question was my parents’. They broke into a temple looking for nothing but treasure. In doing so, they desecrated it, and ancient temples don’t give you a slap on the hoof for that. They were cursed, and when they had me and left me with the ring they’d stolen, I was enough of their daughter to not throw it away when I had all the chances in the world. So the curse became my curse too. All because I'm a greedy good-for-nothing. Rats breed rats.
Because of that curse, anyone who has anything to do with the treasures – like me – can never escape their influence. That killer maniac was awoken by the curse. He’s part of the arrangement. I couldn’t even live a proper life with a kind old shepherdess because that curse made sure, when I was old enough and skilled enough, that I’d go back and live the sort of life you read about in those epic poems, in those plays, in those ancient stories of heroes and villains.
I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you this, because as soon as I found that Sapphire Stone that started it all, I was hoping to smash it and break the curse. But I’ve done that. It didn’t work.
I’ve tried fighting this curse tooth and hoof solely so I can deliver these messages. By the time you read this, I’ll have been whisked off again to go hunting for more treasures. I can’t stop it, I can’t defy it, I’ve never found a way to break this curse. You tell Princess Celestia, and she’ll probably get outwitted by it too. Or worse, she’ll get infected. I can’t even be sure you haven’t been infected already. I might have passed it on to anyone.
Now you know, I hope you understand why I have to say this:
Remember that cover story. Make Do is dead. Heck, soon enough it’ll probably be true anyway. Let me do this on my own. I can’t risk anyone else suffering the same fate, and not you of all ponies.
If you don’t believe me, have your friend Night Light examine the trace magic on this paper. He’s a smart guy. He’ll spot the curse’s presence a mile away. Hopefully, it’ll be too weak to infect anyone. Besides, I’m the one stealing treasures, not you.
For all I know, this curse will end me, and you’ll never hear from me again anyway. So while I can, I have one last thing I wanted to tell you:
You were my best friend, and I want you to get married, have a family, live a normal life, and die an old mare surrounded by friends and loved ones. You were what I wanted to be. I just wish I’d been worth all the trouble I cost you in turn.
Goodbye,
Good friend.
Make Do.
Adventure House Publishing
Sir Smart Diction
Literary Avenue
Canterlot Citadel
PC01 44D
Dear Sir Smart Diction,
It is my understanding that Adventure House Publishing are looking for a new adventure series to publish and promote. Having read and enjoyed many of your most popular series of books, such as the Enchanted Carousel and Badger Fortress series, I would like to submit for your perusal my preliminary 1,500-word manuscript extract for a project of mine, tentatively entitled Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone.
The main hero is a cynical yet reluctantly heroic explorer named Daring Do, whose endless struggles against the forces of evil have almost been overshadowed by her own inner struggle between greed and good works.
To go into detail: after learning of the existence of an evil cursed treasure, and succumbing to her own arrogant desire to possess it, Daring Do crashes into the jungles of the Amaponian Rainforest, breaking her wing and thus denying herself the chance to fly freely, forcing her to improvise against the deadly predators and ancient traps of the secret ruins.
Throughout her journey, she questions at every turn the life choices which have led her to this moment, and how steadily she abandoned her friends, family, and future for nothing more craven than the thrill of the hunt. However, when she finds her archnemesis and sees what she could have so easily become, Daring Do thwarts his scheme and destroys the artefact, devoting her life instead to protecting ponies from evil treasure hunters, and from the ancient weapons they seek to control.
The full story is roughly 75,000 words in length, and draws inspiration in particular from the revived Sir Royal Chap series, while also including many of the more popular intellectual elements from Degrees of Friendship and Escape From Tartarus. This story aims at the same young adult demographic.
I’m a graduate from Clover the Clever’s Comprehensive Cream of the Crop College, and have published many short stories in various magazines including Penny Pulp, Safari Scribbles, and Imagination Plantation.
Yours sincerely,
A. K. Yearling
Adventure House Publishing
Sir Smart Diction
Literary Avenue
Canterlot Citadel
PC01 44D
Dear Sir Smart Diction,
My name is Dame Twilight Velvet. I’m an alumnus of Clover the Clever’s Comprehensive Cream of the Crop College, and I am writing to you because I am interested in the author of your most recent and successful book series, The Adventures of Daring Do.
A. K. Yearling was an old friend of mine, whom sadly I lost contact with a while ago. I imagine you receive many such requests like this, so I took the liberty of enclosing the Royal Stamp of Princess Celestia to demonstrate my good intentions and to impress upon you the seriousness of my request.
Thankfully, my request is nothing difficult. Would you please provide me with the contact details for Miss A. K. Yearling? I understand she is something of a reclusive pony, but I am confident she will understand, given the circumstances. If you are unable to comply for any reason, please let her know that there are friends who care very much for her and who hope she is in good health. Please also inform her that the family is coming along wonderfully.
Yours sincerely,
Dame Twilight Velvet.
Dear Dame Twilight Velvet,
I was surprised and delighted to receive your letter. Of course I recognized your name, and the seal appears to be genuine. Unfortunately, Miss A. K. Yearling left strict instructions to keep her location a secret. We are thus unable to provide you with the details you require.
While I appreciate this is not a satisfactory response, the protection of our clients is important to our reputation as a provider of quality literature and as a trustee of the authors who provide us with their valuable work. For this reason, we respect Miss A. K. Yearling’s right to privacy, and as a sign of goodwill I assure you that your message will be passed on to her.
Apologies for the inconvenience, and thank you for your interest,
Yours sincerely,
Sir Smart Diction,
CEO of Adventure House Publishing
Adventure House Publishing
Sir Smart Diction
Literary Avenue
Canterlot Citadel
PC01 44D
Dear Sir Smart Diction,
Your message was received. Thank you, and the manuscript for Daring Do and the Scales of Dread will be ready and on your desk by Monday, as promised.
Yours sincerely,
A. K. Yearling
Dear Twilight Velvet,
Before you ask, I delivered this myself. I still don’t trust the mail system enough not to tamper with my more personal communiqués.
What can I say? I wanted some money, and I have no imagination. When you take out grave-robbing and treasure hunting, literature’s all I got left. I know it’s shameless and dishonest, but you’re writing after someone who’s destroyed more temples and stolen more artefacts than you’ve had birthdays. Sending off the story for a bit of audacious cash on the side is small potatoes next to the crimes I’ve committed.
To make up for all those lost years: Congratulations! Colt or filly? More than one? I hope they give you joy, and I’m not being sarcastic, I really mean it.
Look, maybe I’m just doing this to soothe my own conscience, but is there anything I can do to help you? Perhaps I could send a share of the profits your way? On the sort of money I’m earning, you could easily raise your foal or foals to live safely and happily.
Do NOT enquire after A. K. Yearling. I had to pull a few strings just to excuse her secrecy, and that’s on top of all the other stuff I’m up to around the world. You’re lucky. From what little I’ve heard, you hardly ever set foot outside Canterlot since you moved from Vanhoover. The idea of staying in one place for more than a week is a dream to me at this point.
I’ll try and send another message later once I’ve shaken off this Caballeron creep. If you don’t hear back from me within a week, assume I’m as good as gone. You can shout my secret to the rooftops then. No one will be in a position to hurt me in any way.
Please believe me when I say I’ve been dying for years to get back to you. You don’t know how much this means to me.
Burn this message when you’re done.
Lots of love from,
“Daring Do”.
Dear “Daring Do”,
How can you ask me to burn something as precious as this? I was terrified. I thought you’d died long ago. Of course I’m not burning that letter.
Since I never got the chance to tell you nearer the time, Night Light did verify the presence of the curse all those years ago, though thankfully he says it’s not potent and we’re unlikely to be affected by it. You can rest easy.
All these years, we’ve lived the exact life you wanted us to. Night Light loves Canterlot, and after seeing the city through his eyes, so do I. Although regrettably, the waterfall here is not much of a challenge for my bungee-jumping hobby, but Night Light is now a Royal Accountant working at the palace, and he is saving up for a Rainbow Falls visit, so I intend to try my luck there. Our marriage has been nothing but joy.
I’m concerned about you publicizing your life story this way. Not only does it seem a bit mercenary, given the origins, but it also strikes me as reckless. If I was able to deduce your identity from the details mentioned in the story, who else might? This Ahuizotl character, if he is based off a real creature, may well discover what you’ve been doing in his absence and use it against you. What if Doctor Caballeron used a pseudonym and subtly revealed to the public the truth?
If you don’t mind my saying so, I might also note that certain details have been left out of the finished version. I’ll at least credit you for some taste, but is this the pony I knew all those years ago, selling her life story for a few bits and then hiding the more shameful chapters? How could you stand to do it?
Regarding family, we have a young colt, though Night Light was hoping to have a son and a daughter, so we may well bring another dear into the world someday. Our Shining Armor is a very brave and selfless soul; he’s already interested in joining the Royal Guard, and the sweet little knight is always fussing over us whenever we go out and about the town. You’d love him. You used to be protective like that when we were friends together.
On the subject of money: thank you, but no. Thanks to my Mom and Dad, we are financially secure. If you really feel the need to donate your earnings, Night Light can recommend dozens of charities and causes across the city. Nonetheless, you should do it only if you truly believe that’s the right thing to do. I want you to be happy whenever you can, and living your life under guilt is a sure way to make that dream impossible.
I will not enquire after “A. K. Yearling”, if that’s what you want. You must appreciate how desperate I am to connect with you again. Of course your secret is safe with me, whether or not we hear from you again, though it pains me to keep it. I feel as though I’m keeping you trapped under that dreadful curse, and the only reason I don’t is because I fear some other unlucky pony would suffer the same fate.
I cannot tell you how relieved and joyful I am to hear from you again. Please write back. I want you to know we’re still friends.
Lastly, I noticed the dedication in the first book of your series. You must miss her terribly.
Faithful, joyful, and full of love,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
Sorry this took so long. The curse had other ideas, as you’ll soon learn when Daring Do and the Fortress of Fate comes out.
Seriously, burn the messages. I want to make sure this stays relatively secret for as long as possible.
I loved your message, though. Shining Armor sounds like a good guy. If you do have any other children, give them my blessing. You deserve a dozen fine young children like him.
I know it’s risky, but the writing seems to be working in some way, though. So far, I’ve managed to get the curse under a little control through the telling. The curse seems to respond to the narrative structures and genre conventions in the books. Happy tales so far, but the instant that stops selling, I’m not sure what’ll happen. Hooves crossed.
I can’t exactly wander around town dropping bags of money into collection boxes. Please let me send you some so you can do it for me. A. K. Yearling should be kept in the dark as much as possible, so you’re all I’ve got left. Please? It’s risky enough just doing this much.
And yes, yes I do miss her terribly. I’m a mercenary scumbag, but I have limits. Anyway, too late for regrets now the series has taken off. Reap what you sow.
Lots of love from,
“Daring Do”.
Dear “Daring Do”,
Please accept my apologies in turn for the delay. We have a daughter! Her name is Twilight Sparkle; naming our first daughter “Twilight” is a tradition in my family, as my mother was called Twilight Candle and it goes back a few generations. She’s the apple of our eye, but a bit of a hoofful. Night Light is concerned about her power surges, and to be honest she’s got me a little worried too. Certainly, she’s been enough to keep me busy for a few weeks.
I feel awful keeping all of this a secret from her and Shining, though. Out of respect for your wishes, I’ve burned every letter and kept to our cover story. As far as they are concerned, Make Do was a crabby workaholic who was my best friend, tragically taken from me.
Rest assured your Daring Do series of books are the highlights of our family life together. Young Twilight loves them and has read them all. I think you’ve got an admirer! Don’t worry, though; she’s definitely the reincarnation of Make Do, right down to studying far beyond all reasonable limits. Night Light’s already got her learning epistemology and Pferdesprache. Her favourite doll is Smarty Pants, who loves doing homework. Make Do would have been the best member of the family to a filly like Twilight.
If we ever find a way to rescue you from your predicament, we will come for you. I don’t care if it takes me a lifetime, or if it takes Shining’s lifetime, or Twilight’s; I promise we will come for you.
Never giving up hope,
Your Twilight Velvet.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
Congratulations! I cried when I read that. Young Twilight sounds like a treasure.
Sorry. Can’t dawdle. Heading to some desert village again.
Do NOT tell them the secret. I mean it.
Lots of love from,
“Daring Do”.
Dear Twilight Velvet,
Now that the business with the Sphinx Nose is out of the way, I can give you a proper reply. I remember my last one a few months back left a lot to be desired.
In the meantime, I’ve considered the situation and your proposal. From what I hear, your young Twilight is something of a rising star in Canterlot society. Talk travels far even out here. Some say she’s been hoof-picked by Princess Celestia herself to be the next Princess, though honestly they say that about once every decade whenever some wonderchild comes along.
On the other hoof, I trust your judgement, so here’s what I propose:
We can’t tell Twilight Sparkle directly. If those power levels are any indication, she might have some of the fateful curse on her head. Unusual powers are one of its side effects. That being the case, the odds are strong she might be involved in something interesting come the not-too-distant future. Hard to be sure when I can’t check her magical traces. For all I know, she might be powerful enough to overcome the curse, perhaps using its own power against it.
I’ve been researching the curse’s effects out here, and as far as I can make out, the one thing it needs is closure. I think that means I can be free of it once I’ve wrapped up the series. But I can’t do it on my own. It’ll need outside help. A story needs a reader, and a story made by powerful magic needs an equally powerful reader.
I can’t deny she’s got potential. However, in any case it could be dangerous to make her aware of the curse’s existence. That might not bode well. I’m not sure, but it’s best to play it safe.
What I’m proposing is that it might be safe to tell her. Not right away. Someday. Tell her that Daring Do is real. Tell her that Daring Do is fighting to stop the evil forces of Ahuizotl and Doctor Caballeron, and that Daring Do will need friends or allies or something like that to complete her quest. Tell her for me that Daring Do can’t work alone.
I need time to fine-tune the details, and I don’t like the idea of shoving an innocent into all this. She has to choose to join me. That’s important, and I’m not saying that because of the curse. I’m saying that because I don’t want her to do it if she isn’t heart-and-soul committed to this. I don’t want another pony to suffer because of my mistake.
Twilight Velvet, my friend. You can dismiss every word of this as the ravings of a desperate pony who got what she deserved, and I won’t blame you if you do. If you think I’m a monster just by saying this, then burn this letter and forget everything about me. I am entirely, willingly, and shamefully at your mercy.
But please: I’m so tired. I want to stop. It's gotten so bad that the curse won’t let me speak my mind for long, and I have no one else I could even remotely call “friend”. While I’m truly myself again, I want to be free. I want to be Make Do, one more time, before the end.
Your loving friend, whichever you choose,
Daring Do.
A. K. Yearling.
???
Dear Make Do,
Of course I will tell her, old friend, and she will have the chance to choose. But here is what I propose, given the information you've provided me. Also, apologies in advance for the smudges. We had a “leak in the dormitory”…
