Prologue: Coal in the Everfree
Diamonds and Coal
Prologue
Coal in the Everfree
By
Moonshine the Pony
It was dark, for few stars shone overhead. The moon was shrouded by a veil of clouds, concealing it from the view of stargazers. The silence of the night was broken only by the choir of insects chirping their song, a song that only they understood. In the dim light, a lone figure could be seen making its way to the entrance of the Everfree Forest.
Twilight Sparkle, the Princess’s personal student, savior of Equestria on several occasions, and one of the six ponies chosen to embody the Elements of Harmony made her way through the forest. The breeze was cool, weaving through her mane; the soil was soft and moist underhoof. As she made her way down the familiar path to the castle where she had defeated Nightmare Moon, she thought she felt a presence. She turned slowly, as not to rustle the leaves or branches around her. There was nopony there. She turned back toward the path, and continued through the forest. She was there for a reason, she knew. Princess Celestia had asked her to investigate the castle, where there had been suspicious activity in the past few days. Unexplained voices, mysterious lights, even a disappearance by Ponyville’s local mailmare, though Twilight was skeptical about that. “Derpy probably got lost again,” she had reasoned. Derpy was always getting lost. Then she would reappear telling ponies that “she just doesn’t know what went wrong!”
Despite Derpy’s constant klutziness, she was a pretty intelligent mare. Smart enough to know when to be scared, that is. She had returned shaking out of fright, and refused to speak to anypony for the next few days. It was as if she had seen a ghost or something! But Twilight knew ghosts weren’t real. So she was already planning on investigating when Princess Celestia had requested that she check out the castle, where most of the phenomenons were occurring. Twilight had agreed, naturally, and set out as soon as she had written a letter letting her friends and Spike know where she was headed. She was going to get to the bottom of the Mystery in the Everfree, as some ponies were calling it.
Despite her earlier bravado, Twilight was now starting to regret that she hadn’t brought some of her friends along. Fluttershy would definitely be able to soothe her nerves, while Rainbow Dash would stick with her through thick and thin. Pinkie, of course, would make her laugh and smile, while Applejack’s friendly demeanor and honesty would have been helpful at calming her down. Rarity, on the other hoof, would have complained the whole time about the dirt and leaves everywhere. Twilight sighed, as she once again wished for company.
She jumped as a twig snapped behind her. She whipped around. “Who’s there?” she called out. After no reply, she carefully stepped forward, as not to alarm whatever or whoever was around. A cold breeze, colder than before, swept through the trees and made her shiver. A small mouse darted for cover, sticking out against the trail. Twilight sighed. “Oh thank goodness. Just a mouse.” She turned back to the trail; only to jump again as she came face to face with a floating blue ball seemingly made of… fire?
“AAAHH!”
The ball of fire seemed to rear back and try to spin, almost as if it were shaking its head. Twilight scrambled backward, trying to get away from the ball that had appeared from nowhere. “They were right! These woods really ARE haunted!” she cried out as she darted away from the ball, which had started coming closer. She turned tail and ran, the branches whipping at her face and her legs as she raced through the undergrowth. She slowed to a trot, panting for breath. “I… I think I lost it…” she panted. She turned her head to check behind her. Nothing. She looked back ahead of her and shrieked. The fireball had not only caught up to her, but had somehow managed to sneak around her and get in front of her. “Get away from me!” she shouted. Then to her astonishment, the ball… spoke.
“Don’t be afraid. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Twilight flinched, not believing what she heard. The voice was hauntingly familiar and gave the sense that it belonged to a seasoned leader. She looked at the fireball in scrutiny, not believing the whole situation to be real; believing it to be a clever setup by Pinkie and Rainbow.
“This is not a practical joke. I am real.”
Twilight blinked, but no longer tried to stay away from the fireball. She found that its glow was somewhat comforting, now that she knew it wasn’t going to kill her, at least. The fire wasn’t hot, either. For some reason, it was actually kind of cold. This, she thought, defied all logic that she could have ever believed in. “O-okay,” she stammered. “What do you want with me, then?”
The ball seemed to fall toward the ground, as if sitting down, though it never quite touched the forest floor. It seemed to be considering how to respond; considering how to keep Twilight, who was the first pony that had ever calmed down to listen, listening.
“You are Twilight Sparkle, Savior of Equestria. You have defeated the Changeling Army and Queen Chrysalis.”
Twilight couldn’t help it. Her jaw dropped at the unexpected reply. She blinked, uncertain on how to reply. “Yes… I am. But how do you know that?” she asked in return. The fireball took a few seconds to reply. When it did, Twilight was even more taken aback.
“Just because I am stuck wandering the Everfree, doesn’t mean that news does not escape my ears. Especially when that news concerns my own kin.”
Twilight couldn’t believe what she had just heard. His own kin? What could that mean? She sat down, trying to digest this new information. “What do you mean, ‘your own kin’?” she asked. The ball seemed to smile; tips of the flames parted to form a sort of upside-down crescent.
“The Changelings, my dear. They are my kin, as are ponies. I… am a hybrid.”
“A hybrid? Is that even possible?” asked Twilight. Ponies and Changelings were mortal enemies, kind of like spiders and flies, or dragons and phoenixes. The last encounter with Changelings had almost doomed Equestria, killed Twilight’s brother, and replaced her favorite foal-sitter, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, with the High Queen of the Changelings, Queen Chrysalis. Twilight spoke from experience when telling the young colts and fillies not to mess with Changelings.
“Yes, my dear. Hybrids are possible, but very rare. I am the only one that I have ever known of. Would you perhaps be interested in hearing my story?”
Twilight smiled inwardly, excited at the prospect of teaching her own mentor about something that had happened in history, yet had never been recorded. “Wait, why haven’t you been mentioned in history books, then? If you were – are – the only hybrid to ever live, then surely you deserve some mention in today’s history books?”
“True as that may be for other breeds, hatred for Changelings runs deep in the blood of ponies. One cannot escape persecution even in the afterlife, or even in the books of history. The ponies feared me, even after I proved myself nothing but help. They preferred to forget about their greatest ally in the great Pony-Changeling War rather than remember one who was half the blood of the enemy.”
Twilight nodded, understanding why this being had not been mentioned. Ponies rather forgot what they were afraid of than remember a potential enemy. In a way, they acted similar to the old creatures of myth, the ones who inhabited the world millions of years ago; the Humans, who had driven themselves to extinction with terrifying weapons of mass destruction and world leaders corrupted with greed. In a way, however, they were the reason that ponies were able to inherit the world; a fresh world, free of the scars of humanity. Not many knew that humans had actually existed, however. Pony-kind feared that the humans would one day come back, so the knowledge of their existence in the first place had been limited to royalty and royalty only. As her brother was married to Princess Cadance, she became royalty not by blood, but through her brother, a fact that he never neglected to bring up during family time. Princess Luna and Princess Celestia had pulled Twilight aside during the dance and told her to meet them in the gardens after the wedding was over. Once there, they had revealed the information to her, as they had to her brother after he proposed and Cadance said “yes.”
“My story begins with a family torn apart, and a family brought together. Ponyville of old was not so different than the Ponyville of the present, in the way we spoke, our technology, and the way we looked.”
~~~
. . .
It was a dark night, the lack of light accentuated by the cloud cover overhead. The streets of Ponyville were relatively empty, save the few ponies scurrying home to avoid the incoming storm. The moon poked through the clouds, but only barely. The fact that the moon was up at all meant that the Queen of the moon, Queen Gabi, was at the castle with her husband, King Matahari of the sun. A lone figure could be seen trotting briskly down the crowded back alleys of Ponyville. They seemed to be carrying a box with them, but from afar nopony could be sure. The figure seemed to be trying to move through the alleys without being seen, but along the way it bumped into several ponies. The figure rounded a corner and removed its hood. A mare, with a pale-gold mane with a black stripe stood alone at the corner of the street. The rest of her body was covered with her cloak, so her coat couldn’t be distinguished. She closed her eyes, as if trying to focus and brace herself for what she was about to do. Her horn started to glow, and she levitated a box off her back and set it gently on the side of the road. As she glanced around to see if anypony was following her, a flash of lightning illuminated the night sky, followed by a roar of thunder. In the instant the lightning lit the sky and before the rain started to fall, the mare’s face was fully visible; tears could be seen streaming from her eyes and her sobbing filled the silence. Once the box was set down, she glanced around again and replaced her hood. She then turned tail and took off running in the opposite direction. The last words she said that night rang out above the rain. “Good bye, Steam…”
. . .
“Hey, Mistheart. You still here?”
Mistheart sighed, annoyed by her assistant’s constant chattering. Sometimes the idle chatter was entertaining, but tonight wasn’t one of those times. She bit back a scathing reply and answered, “Yes, Onyx, I’m still here.” Onyx, full name Onyx Kicker, was a medium-sized stallion with a jet black coat and a dark blue mane riddled with dark green stripes. He was about thirteen, relatively young to be working on an apprenticeship with a Trademaster.
Trademasters were ponies who specialized in practical talents and took their skill to a level beyond normal ponies. They generally had Cutie Marks related to their trade, showing that they had a natural talent in their job, but some ponies became apprentices to learn other trades while searching for their hidden talent. It was a very useful system, for an apprentice would learn skills that can be used in their adult life, even if their special talent didn’t lie in their field of study.
“Oh, okay. I thought I heard a noise outside, but then I realized that you were still here, and then I started to wonder who could be outside, and then I looked over to where you were and you weren’t there because you were over here and-“
Mistheart held up a hoof to silence him. “Onyx, there was somepony outside. It was me. I was taking the trash out.” Onyx blinked, surprised at Mistheart’s sudden change in attitude. “Mistheart? Are you okay?” he asked. Mistheart sighed, touched by Onyx’s sincere concern. Not many ponies actually cared about her, but rather her designs. “It’s nothing,” she said in a calmer, gentler tone; the kind of tone Mommy took when telling her foals to go play when an adult mare or stallion came over. “I… don’t really feel like talking about it right now.” Yes, she thought, I don’t really feel like talking about my innermost thoughts right now. “Oh… Okay. Maybe later?” he asked hesitantly. Mistheart nodded, signaling that the conversation was over.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
The door shuddered at the less-than-gentle knocking. Mistheart sighed. She would miss Onyx’s company later, she knew. Nonetheless, she couldn’t keep him from his parents or else she would get in trouble. “Come along, Onyx. Your parents are here.” Onyx bounded over, disappointment obvious in his deep green eyes. It never stops amazing me, she thought, how green his eyes are. It’s as if I’m staring at a little forest in his eyes! She nuzzled him gently. “Come on, you know you have to leave.” Onyx sighed. “But I love learning with you, Mistheart! I’ve never learned so much in my life!” Mistheart felt a warmth inside as she took pride in her student/assistant. “It’s only your first day, Onyx. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go home and get yourself a good night’s sleep.” Onyx had been beginning to tear up, but his whole demeanor changed suddenly as Mistheart mentioned tomorrow’s lesson. “Oh! Tomorrow’s lesson! What are we gonna do tomorrow?” There it is. That familiar energy. He really is excited, isn’t he?
Mistheart chuckled softly to herself. “I can’t tell you what we’re doing tomorrow. Remember what you learned earlier? A good architect,” she paused. Onyx didn’t miss a beat. “Never knows what they’ll design until an idea pops up in their head!” Mistheart smiled, impressed at her apprentice’s memory and keen eye for details. She had only told him once, and that was when he was focused on designing a sculpture from clay. The exercise has to assess Onyx’s creativity, and that was something he had in abundance. At first he couldn’t think of what to design, but when an idea struck even Mistheart was impressed by his complex design.
“Very good, Onyx! I didn’t think you’d remember whit how focused you were on that design of yours.” Onyx beamed, obviously pleased at his Trademaster’s praise. “Thanks, Mistheart, but I guess you’re right. I should go get some rest. See you tomorrow!” and with that, he leapt up and galloped through the door to his waiting parents. His parents made eye contact with Mistheart and nodded a subtle gesture that meant that they would drop him off in the morning. As she closed the door behind her, she was aware of the calls of “Bye, Mistheart!” growing fainter as Onyx trotted home. “Foals,” she sighed. “Should have spent more time trying to find the perfect stallion to have them with. Oh well. Guess there’s no use in living in the past.” And with that she turned to the roads and started to make her way home.
About thirty minutes later, Mistheart had wound up in the middle of the Ponyville market. There was nothing strange about that, as she lived only a few blocks away, but there seemed to be a lack of ponies milling around in the streets. Of course, she thought, there would be nopony out tonight. There’s a storm scheduled for tonight. She shook the thought off and continued home, albeit at a faster pace than before. As she rounded a corner into the back streets, the first few raindrops began to fall from the dark, cloudy sky. The fat, wet droplets fell gently at first, but gradually grew more and more urgent, as if the rain was trying to escape from some ethereal being in the skies. In reality, it was the Pegasi who were responsible, as their cloud-kicking had shaken the rain looser than intended.
As Mistheart continued down the alley, she heard the sound of shattering glass. She sighed. Another break-in. Great. I wonder whose house it is this time. In truth, Ponyville was a generally safe place to live. It was the back alleys where you had to be careful. There had been a string of break-ins lately, all targeting middle-class ponies that had no immediate family. As she became lost in thought, she became vaguely aware of hoofsteps approaching her. It sounded like galloping. She glanced behind her, and, seeing nothing, looked back in front of her only to see a cloaked figure approaching her at a breakneck pace. “Look out!” came the warning cry a little too late. The two collided and were sent sprawling on the ground. The stranger was first to get up. “Watch where you’re going!” A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, showing her face clearly for a split second. Mistheart could make out two pale-violet eyes and a small scar on the mare’s cheek. Her eyes were reddish, as if the stranger had been crying recently. “Oops! Sorry about that; I’m just trying to get out of the rain before it really storms!”
The stranger grunted as if she thought that Mistheart’s story was unworthy of her time. She turned around and cantered off, albeit limping every so often. Mistheart struggled to her hooves but never stopped staring at the strange mare. Odd, she thought. It looked like she was crying before we collided. And why was she running? Mistheart shook her head, trying to clear her head. She decided that it was no use worrying about somepony she didn’t even know and trotted off into the labyrinth that was the back alleys of Ponyville.
As she continued down the alleyways, she couldn’t shake the suspicions forming in her mind about the strange pony from earlier. Could she have broken into somepony’s house? That would explain the glass breaking that I heard earlier. I wonder what she’s up to. She was so lost in thought that she was no longer paying attention to where she was going. She made a few wrong turns without noticing and ended up in an unfamiliar section of Ponyville. She never saw the small brown box lying in the middle of the road. Mistheart tripped over it and fell, for the second time that day, on the ground. This time she actually scraped herself, drawing blood. Warm, sticky blood oozed out of the scrape on her knee. “That’s gonna sting later,” she muttered aloud through gritted teeth. It wasn’t the wound that bothered her, but rather the embarrassment that came with tripping over a large box in the middle of the road. A sudden crack split through the air, accompanied with a flash of lightning as if the sky was laughing at her. Mistheart inadvertently flinched at the sound, though she knew that she was safe. “Okay, very funny. Who’s there?” she called out. When there was no reply, she went to go investigate the box.
The box was relatively small, only large enough to hold maybe a cart’s wheel or something of that nature. It only came up to her knees, but Mistheart was having a hard time trying to lift it with her magic. It was heavy, almost suspiciously so. “What in the name of…” she didn’t finish as another flash of lightning snaked across the sky, like a cobra lunging after its prey. The roar of thunder was almost deafening, the crash drowning out the rest of her sentence. Mistheart flinched again; this time because she knew that it would be dangerous to stay outside much longer. The storms this time of the year were catastrophic, she knew. The last big storm that rolled through demolished the market, though that was many years ago. Still, it never hurt to be on her guard.
She nudged the box, almost expecting it to move. To her great surprise, however, it did. She jumped back and gave a small yelp of surprise. She gently nudged the box again, waiting for that small movement; that small twitch to the side that interested her so much. When the box moved again, the small movement was accompanied by an odd noise. Mistheart froze when she heard that noise. She had heard it before; heard it earlier that day in fact. It was a quiet sound, but it almost sounded like somepony sniffing. She cocked her eyebrow, scrutinizing the box intensely. There’s something in there, but I don’t know if I should open it…
The rain was pouring now, drenching Mistheart and chilling her to the bone. She suddenly remembered that she knew a spell to shield her from the rain and cast it, being careful to cover the box as well. The box moved again and once again made that odd sniffing noise. Then she heard it. The sound of something – no, somepony crying. She could clearly hear the sobbing now that the rain wasn’t falling directly on her head. Curiosity eventually got the better of her and she decided to open the box. Bracing herself for the worst, she used her horn to poke a small hole in the top of the box. It was a relatively mundane solution, but Mistheart didn’t care. There was nopony around and she didn’t have anything sharp. “Whatever works,” she muttered under her breath. She focused her willpower on the hole in the box; her horn lit up with a pale brown energy, and opened the box carefully. The sobbing stopped when the box was opened, and Mistheart was partially afraid of what was going to happen. Will whatever’s in there attack, or will they run away?
She carefully walked over to the box, wary of the potential danger lurking inside. The rain was now so heavy that Mistheart could hardly see 10 feet in front of her. “Horsefeathers!” she swore. “Great! I have to get home in this! What the hay were those Pegasi thinking?” she muttered under her breath, careful not to alert whatever was in the box, which was now emitting crying sounds again. Mistheart peered over the edge of the box and was completely blown away by what, no, who she saw in the box. Inside the box, to Mistheart’s complete and utter confusion, lay a small foal, maybe five years old; far younger than Onyx was in any case. The foal had a light blue coat, about the color of the clear skies. His mane was a dusky gray, short-cut and ragged. Little did they know it, but that hairstyle would be copied by a cyan-blue pony with a rainbow mane almost one thousand years later, who would end up inspiring many young fillies and colts to copy her mane and hail her as a hero.
The foal was small, that much was fairly obvious, but it was hard to tell exactly how small he really was in the position he was laying in. He looked up at Mistheart with huge, pleading eyes that said a lot about his personality; they indicated that he was confused, alone, and mostly afraid. Mistheart froze when she looked at his eyes. They were startlingly blue, almost as if they were painted on instead of real. They were, she thought, beautiful in a way. Mistheart leaned forward to get a better view of the foal, but almost died inside when the foal flinched back suddenly, as if afraid that Mistheart was going to eat her. Mistheart understood the feeling of being alone, of being unwanted and scared. She knew it because she felt the same way when her parents gave her to the orphanage. When they abandoned her in that dreadful place where they promised a better life. The place that Mistheart would spend the rest of her life trying to get out of.
“Hey… Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you,” she told the filly soothingly. It was the same tone she took when trying to calm down strays that ended up hurt and hungry at her doorstep. The foal looked up at her, still shaking in fear. “I won’t hurt you. I know what you’re going through… Alone, sad, confused… I used to be just like you, you know.” The foal blinked, seemingly understanding every word that Mistheart was saying. “Are you cold?” asked Mistheart. The foal nodded, still wary of Mistheart though he had already concluded that Mistheart wasn’t going to eat her or anything like that. Mistheart gestured for the foal to get out of the box. “Here, come over here. You won’t be in the rain, and I promise not to hurt you.”
The foal slowly stood up and took a few shaky steps over to Mistheart. Mistheart nuzzled his neck gently, a common gesture used to indicate that you were safe and that everything was going to be fine. The foal flinched away, uncertain whether if Mistheart was going to hurt him or not. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” she soothed. The foal inched closer to Mistheart, reassured by her gentle calming behavior. Mistheart pressed against the foal, trying to warm him up. The poor thing was soaked, an effect of being stuck in a cardboard box in the rain. “Do you want to come home with me? You’d be out of the rain.” She looked at the foal, unsure of what the young foal would do. The foal thought about the proposal for a second, then nodded his head vigorously and sending water droplets flying.
Mistheart was satisfied, as she really was concerned for this young foal, who had nowhere to go and nopony to take care of him. She smiled softly, happy that she could help somepony that was like she used to be, when she had received no help when she was growing up. “Well, then,” she beckoned. “Come on! The faster we get to my house, the better.” Lightning arched across the sky and thunder ripped through the air as the bolt of lightning actually hit the top of a house far off in the distance, as if the sky was emphasizing what she had told the foal. The foal nodded and huddled under Mistheart’s magical umbrella. “Let’s go home,” said Mistheart softly as they trotted off toward her house.
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is sole property of Hasboro. Any resemblance to any fanfictions written by others is purely coincidental, and I in no way claim any part ownership for the show or its backstory.
Questions? Comments? Complaints? Suggestions? Please leave a comment below or email me at: v0rtexmont0ya@gmail.com
Author's Note
This is my first stab at writing a fanfic. I started this during Language Arts class (I'm heading to 9th grade as of September, 2013) and my friends told me to keep going after the first thousand words. I decided to go all the way with this and see it through the end. Please let me know what you think of this!
