Ode to Pinkie Pie

Chapters

The Terrible Three
The Enlightened One
The Opening
The Middlegame: Foolishness
The Middle Game: Bonds
The Endgame: Trials
The Endgame: Tribulations
The Endgame: Checkmate
Epilogue

The Terrible Three

These are the words of Saeldur, the spectator, a forgotten member of the endangered race:

“Darkness looms over this world. It is ever present; the long enduring curse for which there is a forgotten answer. Suffering takes up her long spear and rides out; seeking to make war against all who desire rest. On her side is the aegis, a relic thought to be only a fairy tale. But she carries it nonetheless and its breadth protects her from many futile threats. Fear follows close behind her. That accursed alicorn; foal and grown pony alike seek to conquer her. But she ravages them without discrimination or mercy. Their cutie marks are symbols of massive terror throughout Equestria. They also revived Discord, the great Draconequus who was said to be vanquished all those years ago by Princess Celestia. Here he stands; his twisted mentality a great burden to all the world. They say that none can stand against them.

The ponies cry out in despair,

Who is like Suffering?

Who can hope to halt her advance?

Her long spear pierces through even the greatest defenses.

Her huge shield protects her from any who would seek to harm her.

Who is like Fear?

Who can hope to stand unafraid against her?

Her reach is terrible; her might unstoppable.

No walls are thick enough, no fortress impenetrable enough to keep her out.

Who is like Discord?

Who can make war against him?

He pits friend against friend and wife against husband.

Fighting each other, they cannot hope to touch him.

Woe to all the world!

The great three advance, screaming their battle cry.

They inspire all ponies to feeble flight.

None can escape their steel grip.

For so long Equestria has been ravaged by their oppression. There is not a day under the sun or a night under the moon when the fiery sting of their weapons is not felt. There is not a place where ponies can hide. The pegasus ponies stand in the clouds and the freedom of the heavens, but Fear still catches them even as an eagle swoops from the heavens and snatches his grounded prey as quickly and unexpectedly as lightning. The unicorns have their magic which is revered throughout all the world. They were the greatest and most feared warriors in the great war of five hundred B.L. No one could hope to best them. Yet neither their most skilled enchanters, nor their most talented magi can cast spells against the all-defeating Suffering. The earth ponies are strong and firm, yet Discord works his way around their power. They do not see his attack from behind and he fools them into fighting with one another. They do not realize that their war is not against their own flesh against blood, but against the powers of this dark world and the spiritual forces in the heavenly realms.”

These were my thoughts before there was any hope for Equestria. A lonely sage, I have wandered around the world in search for wisdom. I was there when Equestria was founded and I will be there when the final age of the alicorn comes. But out of all I have seen over the years, one of the most profound stories that I can tell is this one.

I saw these things for many years and was very sad; for there was nothing that I could do to hinder the unrestrained three, the Terrible Three. I looked throughout all the world in disbelief. I said, “It cannot not be that out of all these ponies who live, there is not one who can hope to make war against the three. I will search long and hard. I will find just one who is able to grasp the prize of peace.”

So I began my search in Canterlot, a place of great wealth and fame. I looked around and saw stallions of great pride. They strode around the city clothed in expensive suits and enjoyed discourse with the noblest company. Sometimes Celestia, the princess of the world, raiser of the sun, would grace them with a visit; exiting from the great palace in her radiant splendor. Their wealth allowed them to lavish her with gifts and hold large parties in her honor. It seemed to me that nothing was too good for them. Nothing was out of their reach.

Yet I found that when the festivities of the day had come to a close that they went to their homes. There, they were alone and their faces and shoulders drooped. They slumped down upon the ground and wept. They wept and showed that they were miserable. To this I asked myself, “How can they be unhappy when all the pleasures of the world are within their grasp?”

My question was quickly answered by their daily lamentation:

I hate these things which give me pleasure.

They soon pass away; their feeling is fleeting.

I am left in a worse state then I was preceding them.

Now all that is left is to weep.

Woe to me for I am alone!

I have many so called friends,

But none love me. None would care if I died.

I am ever forlorn.

Why do I choose to continue with life?

My happiness is like the rise and fall of the sun.

Why must I suffer daily like this

When I could simply choose to die and sleep?

Death must be happier than this state.

Better to have never felt pleasure

Than to lose it again and again each day

Only to have it replaced by pain!

And I saw that Suffering had her hand on them even in the midst of their indulgence. She had made use of loneliness, one of the greatest pains. There was no joy in any part of Canterlot.

So I said, “I will go elsewhere, to a place where love is commonplace. Surely there I will find happiness.” So, I went to the southern region of Equestria where the ponies farmed the fields every day. I saw that they were hardworking, unlike those in Canterlot who put their play before their work. I saw also that they were happy when they were with their family and friends. In addition to spending much time with their close friends, once a year their families would gather together and share each other’s company. And they were never lonely. Again, I said, “Surely these must be happy. They have strength in their numbers, and together they can overcome.”

Yet I saw that when winter came and they could not work the snowy fields or harvest from the sleeping orchards, they grew afraid. They soon had no way to support themselves and Fear overtook them. They would mourn in the evening because they had little food, and by day they would scavenge; though neither of these things gave them any peace. Each day they spoke to one another about how they feared that they would not see the next rising of the sun. And I saw that they were no more joyful than those in Canterlot; depending on the seasons to determine their state of mind. As one, they spoke this lament:

Save us, oh Celestia!

Have mercy on us Luna!

Let this season pass from us.

Return us to the happy times.

Bring us to the happy days

When the sun gave its light

And the crops yielded great surplus;

The orchards filling our stomachs.

Take from us this fear,

That we will be unfed today,

That we shall die tomorrow

And taste the sting of death.

Worry grips us with an unbreakable hold.

Doubt clouds our minds like the gloomy sky.

All of our goods have been sold

No food is left for us to buy.

For seven years, I went to almost every city and every region; seeing all the ponies who lived in Equestria, but nowhere did I find true joy. Seeing all these things, I fell down and shed tears and lamented loudly. These seven years were the longest that I had ever spent in this realm. They crept along like decades, and everywhere I went, there was no lasting desire to remain.

I could not understand it in its entirety. There was no war in this world. They did not know its pain. There was no plague that came upon them; wiping away one in every ten of their number. Yet everywhere I went, it appeared that the ponies were more hopeless than the ones I saw in the old days when these horrors were occurring. Even in those times there were those who had hope. Yet here there was no such thing. There was only the lull of the day which would eventually become night, and then become day again.

There is no meaning in life without joy. What is the purpose in doing something unless its end has some kind of profitable return? There was no reason to continue doing anything here except to exist. The question then arises, what is the point of existing? Where is the significance in clawing through life until the next day? Without joy, there is no reason to live. Yet for some reason, these ponies continued to exist despite this conclusion. No one chose to end his or her life. The monotonous wheel of nature turned undisturbed throughout the seven years, which seemed like eons. Towards the end of the years, by chance, I witnessed a council of the Terrible Three.

Fear spoke; her voice icy and chilling. “How lovely it is to torment this world. How great it is to afflict its inhabitants.”

Discord, the dragon-horse laughed. “Oh, indeed it is. There is no one to stop us! For miles around there isn’t a soul who is willing to do anything.”

Suffering spoke next. “Hold your gloating, you two. Victory may be ours, but we cannot be sure of total success. Discord, you say that there are none who oppose us. Take caution. Pride is the enemy of victory. While we sit and drink the ambrosial wine of the misery which we have beset upon this dark world, we must keep ever vigilant. For I believe even as we speak now, there is an adversary rising.”

Fear said in rebuttal, “Ha! Be it not so. We need not trouble ourselves over this matter. For as surely as the sun will rise, there will come an adversary. ‘Let them come,’ I say. Let them stand before me. Let them try and pit themselves against my power. They will soon flee in horror. Terror will fall upon them and they will do nothing against us.”

Discord added, “I agree. What do we have to worry about? I’ve taken care of a few heroes myself before. Oh, and it’s so funny when they think they can stop me. They come to me with confidence, but then I just turn that confidence against them. It just makes me so…” He burst into a fit of laughter.

Suffering shouted. “Cease your giggling, Discord. This is no laughing matter.”

“Oh, but it is. Your always so serious about these things. Why don’t you loosen up a bit? Enjoy yourself for a day.”

Hearing this, she said, “Enough of this. I shall be the one laughing when you are dethroned.” Saying this, she stormed away.

Fear ended the discussion. “Let us go then, mighty Discord, son of Khaos, and flaunt our victory once more.”

Seeing this, I felt a twinge of anger. My wrath boiled, but it soon turned into frustration; for I could do nothing about this. I agonized over what I had seen for day and night. “Why is there none who seek to face them?” I asked.

Again, I received an answer. Hope spoke to me; coming from on high. Ah, the great Hope, a mighty pegasus with a white coat which is purer than the snow. Her eyes are blue like the sea and her mane is red like the glorious dawn. “Do not despair.” She said.

I responded with despair. “How can I not when I see that all here are living in darkness?”

She answered,

The ponies walking in darkness have seen a great light.

On those living in the land of everlasting night, the sun has dawned;

For as in the day of Discord’s defeat by the princesses of this world

The burden upon them will be obliterated.

The yoke upon their necks will be broken.

And the scepters of their oppressors will be shattered.

Their adversaries’ spoils will be given to them;

Lasting peace bestowed without cost.

For unto them a filly is born.

Unto them a daughter is given.

And she will be called the herald of joy, the bearer of courage,

Princess of harmony, vanquisher of frowns.

Of the influence of her peace there will be no limit.

Of the intensity of her passion there will be no end.

Their enemies will flee before her.

And there will be joy in Equestria for all of her days.

Hearing this, I was astonished and said, “How long must they wait for this mare?”

She responded, “She has already been born. In the town of Ponyville, her life began three years ago. Yet they must wait seven more years for her to mature.”

So I waited for three years; watching the anguish that went on in all the realm. Yet I did not lose hope. “Hope is no liar.” I told myself.

After this time, I asked of her, “Has she yet received her cutie mark?”

“No, it will come in its own time. And this will happen in the least expected of places, a place of suffering. Yet she will see a sign from Heaven and will realize a great truth, the greatest secret to joy. The amazement she has will be so great that joy will follow her all of her days by her choice alone. Yet unlike Platony’s Republic, which argues that those who find wisdom only wish to find more and do not wish to impart the light that they have found to those chained in the darkness, she will have an irrepressible desire to share her epiphany with all the world. Her passion will become quickly so intense that she will stop at nothing to drive away the three. And after a great war, she will prevail. Rejoice. Salvation approaches from the most unlikely of places.”

In awe I asked of the messenger, “Where is this place. Is it in the city, or outside?”

“It is a rock farm just outside the city.”

Because of events which demanded my attention in another place, I could not immediately confirm the birth of this filly. For three years, I was called upon by one greater than me to do my duty as a sage; spending every day in a great library to unveil a secret. In the early part of the fourth year, I finally completed the task that I was assigned. Then I remembered the words of Hope and travelled to Ponyville.

The town was small in comparison to most of the cities. This is why I did not visit it in my search for joy. Although, upon my arriving there, it seemed to me like the center of the world as all roads led into it. And I searched the region outside its boundaries until I found a group of fields which were infertile like the desert. There were many rocks sitting atop the soil in that place. Located in the center of the fields was a house and also a large silo. “This must be that for which I am searching,” I said. Though, as I spent time there, I did have my doubts about the possibility of joy coming from that place. The whole region was surrounded by small mountains that gave it a feeling of enclosure, as though the land itself was a prison. The sky was always cloudy there, so when one looked up, all one saw was grey.

It was night when I arrived. The princess had only just raised the moon. So I sat and waited until dawn. At this time, three fillies came out of the house, accompanied by a stern-looking stallion, who I discerned was their father. The grey stallion assigned each of the fillies work to do for that day, and they began on their toil. He also went to one of the fields and began to work. Thus seeing this, I went to observe the hard labor which the fillies were doing. I looked to the west and saw a filly who had a coat colored a mix of grey and blue. She looked to be about six years of age. All day she moved the rocks from one edge of the field to the next. I looked into her eyes and saw only a blank stare. She appeared quite focused on her work and did not stop until the sun began to set.

I looked also to the south and saw a filly who was wholly grey. She also appeared to have about six years. Likewise, she was moving the stones from one edge of the field to the next: from the south to the north. Upon her face was also a blank look. I suppose she was masking her emotion in the best way that she could. Her work must have been backbreaking; especially for one of her age and size.

Then I saw the third filly. There was something different about this one. Unlike her sisters, her coat was pink and her mane was a slightly darker shade of pink. Her eyes were blue like the sky at midday. As she worked on, I did not see that her face was void of expression. Rather, I saw that she was quite despondent. Each time she finally brought a rock from the west end to the east end, she would let out a large sigh. She stared at the ground and slowly traversed back to repeat the task.

For the years that followed, my gaze was focused on this filly who looked so depressed and devoid of spirit. All day long she toiled under the heat of the sun, and there was nothing to encourage her because her work was so monotonous and multitudinous. Every so often, she would look towards another of the fields and look forlornly at one of her sisters. I perceived that she was quite lonely in her solitary work. Her movements were always slow and too deliberate. Clearly, she was suffering.

I said to myself, “Surely, this cannot be this mistress of joy for which I am searching. I will spectate another of the three. At least they do not appear so grim.”

But even as I said this, Hope said to me, “Do not be deceived. The one you gaze upon will indeed be the savior of this world.”

I could not believe my ears. There was nothing about this one that was even happy, much less joyful. I could not see how she could triumph over any of the Terrible Three. I did not see how any sign from heaven could change the circumstances under which she lived. A great writer once said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. When I looked into this one’s eyes I saw oppression and loneliness, two of the greatest kinds of suffering that mortals can endure. Yet nonetheless, I did not take the words of Hope for folly. I kept my eyes fixed upon her; eagerly awaiting the prize for which I looked for all those years.

Nor did my patience go unrewarded. The prize always goes to the runner who endures. On the dawn of the eighth year, on the fifteenth day of the fourth month, as predicted, there was a great sign in the heavens. I looked up and saw and enormous rainbow which rippled out from an epicenter in the sky, a Sonic Rainboom. When I saw it, I was astonished. Such an event had not happened since my early days long ago. So much time had passed since such an event had occurred that it was regarded as only a legend which was contained in foals’ fairy tales. Although my memory of the last one was still clear in my mind, the very idea of seeing one again in this day and age was nearly unimaginable, much less expected.

Realizing that this had to be what I was waiting for, I ripped my stare away from the sky and returned my attention to the pink filly. A look of amazement was upon her face. Now, understand that amazement is not an emotion, but a state characterized by the complete understanding of a revelation. Before her, the sky opened up and for the first time since I had been there. The blue, endless vault that was the heavens was revealed to her in plain sight. The sun was also now clearly visible; not giving only half of its light through the clouds. As the clouds parted and the sun began to shine on the pink filly, her eyes slowly opened wider than I had ever seen them. Gradually, a massive smile grew across her face. It was wide and open-mouthed. I saw that in addition to her amazement, she experienced absolute joy; not transient happiness, but long-lasting joy. Then, without warning, she abandoned her work and hurried into the silo. My mouth fell open. What I had seen was truly astonishing.

The Enlightened One

There was a filly who had just received her cutie mark. On the rock farm where she lived, she threw a party for her family. When I tried to find the occasion for it, I found that she had done it for the sole purpose of filling her family with joy. Seeing this, I watched her for another seven years. The name of the pony was Pinkamena Diane Pie.

For these seven years, she toiled upon the farm; doing her work with an ever-present grin. She was ecstatic most of the day, even though her body showed signs of fatigue, her mind was jubilant. When Suffering passed over her and her family, she spoke with an effervescent tone each day. “Smile everypony. Today is another day. We’ll get through this and then we can have another party.” No hardship could quench the fire that burned inside of her.

When one of her sisters asked how she could be so relentlessly glad despite these hardships, she said, “I’m not going to let anything that happens make me frown. I’m not happy or sad because of what happens. I choose to be glad. You should do that too frownypants.”

I had realized that she had this in mind previously, but to hear it come out of her mouth surprised me beyond measure. Her words seeped out like honey from her lips; containing the wisdom which would take centuries to gain. While she had lived for a short while, she spoke freely the great secrets that the old sages searched for tirelessly. Furthermore, here she was explaining them with simple words as though this wisdom did not contain treasures which so many have longed to grasp but failed despite all their years of hard work; for many have embarked on the quest for joy, but so few have returned with anything more than destitution. None found it. Yet it was not as though she did not appreciate or realize the gravity of her understanding. She went about each day with not only the joy from that secret, but also with the resolve to show her sisters how valuable it truly was. “Come on girls. It’s so great to wake up in the morning with a smile.” She said. “It just makes everything really worth it.”

I asked myself, “How does perfection like this exist? I have never met anyone like this before.” I said this everyday throughout the seven years.

When the seven years had passed and the mare became an adult, she told her family that she wanted to move into town and live there. They allowed her to go because she was of age to leave their care; though they were sad to see the light leave from them. Yet when she left, her very memory kept with them a shadow of joy.

When she arrived in Ponyville, she took a job at a bakery. There, she was given a new name: Pinkie Pie. Armed with this new identity, she went out into the center of the city whenever she was not working and declared, “Hey everypony, I’m here to make you all smile.” The passers by simply glanced at her, shook their heads, and went about their business. Yet she was unfazed. Each day she went out into the public and made it her task to befriend a stranger.

Before long, all the town was her friend. She would walk through the streets and call out to each pony and they would call back to her by name. Her attitude was contagious. Those around her would immediately grin and would experience a bout of happiness. For a time, Pinkie thought she had succeeded in her mission. But I saw that it was not long after she left that people would return to their despondent state to which they were accustomed.

It was at this time that I looked again to the Terrible Three who had assembled for council in light of recent events. I eavesdropped as before.

Suffering, the leader, spoke first. “There is talk now in the heavenly places of a savior in these parts who will destroy us.”

Discord responded nonchalantly. “Well of course there is. There’s always talk of some prophecy or some savior who’s going to come. It’s been like that since all this started. Really Suffering, I don’t know what you’re so worried about. It’s gossip and wishful thinking for all we care.”

“It is more than that and you know it. You know as well as I do that there is a mare in Ponyville who has resisted us since that day that she saw that sign in the heavens.”

He sighed. “Several have before too. I don’t see why you’re making a huge deal of it. It’s just one pony; one, small, oddball.”

Fear found her voice. “Yes, but I have been inside this one’s head before. It may be that she is the sole worry of as of now, but she certainly desires to change that. She goes about each day into the open and causes happiness wherever she goes. But she is soon bound to find that she needs to try harder. And when that happens we may be looking at a problem.”

Once more, a long sigh came from the dragon-horse. “Fine, since you won’t drop it, how about this: we’ll go and send a pony under our influence to her who she won’t be able to make happy. When she sees that she can’t perk him up, she’ll get frustrated and give up.”

Fear and Suffering both pondered this and after a few moments, they agreed that Discord had spoken well. “We will do as you say,” said Suffering. “For your plan is likely to work, and if it fails we expect to lose nothing.”

So within a few days, a newcomer walked the streets of Ponyville. He came from Canterlot. I had seen him before. He was the richest of stallions in the city; boasting the finest clothing, the most money to his name, and most connections to royalty of everypony around. Yet as he walked slowly and laboriously towards Ponyville, I saw that he was wearing nothing. He was carrying a small satchel and his cutie mark looked like it had been blotted out by a brand from a hot iron. He was apparently an exile; desiring to take up residence in Ponyville for the rest of his miserable days.

As he went into the city, Pinkie took no more than ten minutes to recognize a new face. Ecstatically, she greeted him, but he gave no response. She tried several more times, but he just dragged his hooves towards wherever he was going with a vacant expression on his face and not appearing as though he even knew Pinkie was before him. She tried several other things. She attempted to stop him with force, but although he looked weak and limp, he was very strong and continued onward. She tried to bring him presents, but he gave no response. She tried annoying him with torrents of speech, but he was unfazed. She tried singing, but his ears did not seem to pick up her song. He came to a house which had been vacant for years and inserted a key from his satchel into the lock.

He opened the door and on the way inside he finally responded to the efforts of his greeter. “Do not try to associate with me. The agony of my life will not allow me to do as you desire.” Saying this, he went inside and slammed the door.

Over the next week, Pinkie tried more and more to cheer up the glum pony. Yet despite all of her efforts, she could not so much as compel the stallion to speak again. He rarely went out, and when he did, it was to buy provisions and did not speak to anyone but the vendor. He seemed very fortified against her efforts, as though he truly did not desire an end to his mellow mood. I knew that this was because of Discord, but even with that in mind, his fortitude was to be admired. Finally, she became fed up and said, “That’s it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

She went to the house of the morose one and beat upon his door. When there was no answer, she continued to knock for an hour. When this time had passed, she shouted, “I’m not going to stop until you come out.” To my wonder, she was true to her word. She continued to beat upon the door for a full seven hours; not stopping to rest or eat. Even as a marathon runner passes by the thirteenth mile feeling as though he has no strength and continues on, so Pinkie indomitably endeavored to gain the stallion’s attention.

After six hours had passed, I spoke and declared that her effort was fruitless. Yet to my surprise, after all this resistance, he opened the door finally and said. “Quite the patience you have there, young mare.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

Slowly, the sullen faced exile asked, “Why should I tell you my name?”

“Because I need to know what to call you.”

“You asked me that question every day for a week, and every day I didn’t give it to you. Why still bother?”

“I need to know.”

He sighed. “Fine, because I grow tired of the constant lack of quiet, I’ll tell you. My name is Maximilian.”

“Can I call you Max?”

“I neither care, nor have the ability to stop you.”

“Max, we need to have a talk.”

“If I speak with you now, will you agree to never bother me again?”

“If you don’t want me to afterwards I won’t.”

“Do I have your word then?”

Pinkie made a few gestures and said, “Cross my heart, and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

Max blinked unresponsively at this, but allowed her inside.

I do not know what went on inside of that house then, but something amazing must have happened. For two days and nights the door remained shut, but on the dawn of the third day, the door opened. Out walked the two. The stallion had a weak smile on his face. I gasped as I saw this; for I thought it was impossible. The Three had their hand over this one.

They pressed hooves together in farewell and she asked, “See you later then?”

“It would be my great pleasure.” he said.

Pinkie waited until noon and then went out into the center of town again, as was her custom. Then, when many had congregated, she shouted, “Listen up everypony. No one is gonna be unhappy in this town on my watch. I’m gonna make sure those smiles stay there too. I’m gonna work hard at it every day and not give up until whatever is making everybody so sad runs away.”

So saying this, she began to spend time with her friends (which meant the entire town) whenever she could. She did this for weeks at a time, and found that they had deeply rooted problems. Yet she was not by any means dismayed by this, and she worked with them to fix their problems though she was affected by none of them. And when she came to a problem that seemed like she could not resolve, she simply thought hard about it or tried harder to help and every issue that she assiduously worked at was fixed. Slowly, as the months weeks crawled by, there seemed to be a general cheer in the town. As a whole, it seemed like it always was, but there were many who went about their business in good humor.

It was not long before the Terrible Three again amassed. They stood in a clearing in Whitetale Wood. Suffering shouted when they had appeared. “What is this Discord? What have you done?”

“Now, now, Suffering, let’s not jump to any conclusions. This is totally temporary; nothing to worry about.”

The pain-delivering alicorn was truly furious. “The mare has all but declared war upon us! She has not ceased in this endeavor since we followed your plan. Her joy is spreading like a plague throughout the town. It infects more each day. She goes about uncontested, not relenting in her transgressions against us; undoing our years of hard work. If this continues we will lose the region. And if she is not stopped, then the world will fall to her! You are blame for this. It was you who advised that we treat this lightly and you who took action that made the issue worse. The ruin of our toil is upon our doorstep because of you.”

He looked away and started to rub his eye. “Well, I don’t think that it’s entirely—”

“Enough of your folly! In freeing you from your prison I hoped that you would be of great help, yet, you have done nothing but hinder us in our purpose. Return to the stone from which we released you!”

Discord suddenly looked very afraid and started to back away. “Now hold on. Let’s not do anything hasty.”

Before Khaos’ son could react, the goddess took up her white spear with her mouth and ceremoniously thrust it into his chest. He grasped the wound and let out a great cry and disappeared; returning back to the castle gardens in Canterlot. Suffering dropped the spear and panted with a visage of hate and frustration.

Fear spoke softly. “I have no qualms over your decision to revoke the freedom of the draconequus, but judging him does not repair the damage that has been done.” The outraged alicorn did not respond so Fear continued. “It is clear that we could be facing war very soon. Thus, I believe it is necessary that we make our efforts to silence this threat much more direct.”

“What would you have us do? Please, let it be better than anything he had in mind.”

“The great master of war once said, ‘Avoid what is strong. Attack what is weak.’ While Discord chose to test her strength, I propose that we test her weakness. She is full of joy now; overcoming even the most difficult obstacle he could throw at her because no evil has befallen her. Yet if we bring tragedy upon her, she will weaken and fall to her knees.”

“But there is a thick wall around her. We cannot afflict her with any sort of suffering. What is there left to do?”

“There is more than one way to sack a walled city. The great master also said, ‘If we wish to fight, the enemy can be forced into an engagement even if he be sheltered by a high wall and a deep ditch. All we need to do is attack some other place that he will be obliged to relieve.’ I propose that we strike one of her close friends with an incurable sickness; a disease so severe that her friend will soon die. Losing someone that she had spent so much time with, she will become depressed and give up.”

And Suffering took Fear’s plan with great approval. So the next day, they went out into the town, unseen by everyone. And when they saw one who was called Sugar Song, an earth pony who was a great friend of Pinkie, Suffering drew an arrow across her silver bow and loosed it at her target.

It was not long before the mare collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. Pinkie soon came to her bedside. Sugar Song did not look well at all. Her white coat had faded and her yellow mane was brittle and tangled. She had many sores about her that looked quite painful.

“Pinkie,” the weak pony said. “Is that you?”

I looked and did not see worry, but compassion in Pinkie’s eyes. “Yes, it’s me. I Brought something that I think might make you feel better.”

Her friend looked at her with a broken stare and said, “I’m sorry Pinkie, but I don’t think it will. The doctors say I don’t have long.”

“Don’t say that. It isn’t over yet. Look! I’ve brought a friend,” The mare turned around and put on a clown nose and a yellow, polka dotted tie, then turned around. With a voice full of amusingly placed inflections, Pinkie said, “Hiya, Sugar, I’m Kooky Cake, the get-well clown. I heard you were feeling down, so I came by to cheer you up.” The party pony then proceeded to put on a show for her ill friend. She made jokes and performed difficult feats which often ended in purposeful failure, which was quite funny. And after a while, I could see the weak, pained look on her face become one of content.

Pinkie came back to the hospital and entertained her friend every day. A week passed by, and although Sugar Song should have passed away by then, she seemed to be hanging on by a thread. She still coughed up blood and spent much of her time groaning in pain, but she was still alive. The doctors were baffled by this and called it a miracle.

After a month went by, Pinkie Pie was still making visits. It was during one of these that her friend asked. “Pinkie, why are you so good to me? Why do you keep coming when it doesn’t look like I’m going to get better?”

Pinkie smiled and said, “Because I want to see you happy. I have to keep coming otherwise you might not be. In fact, as soon as you get better, I’m gonna find a way to end this sadness for good.”

The next day, Sugar Song’s condition improved. The following day her pain began to subside. On the third day, so rapidly, the sores on her body disappeared. She stayed in bed for a few more days and the doctors ran tests on her. And on the eighth day after Pinkie had answered her, she was discharged with a clean bill of health. The pink pony was overjoyed when this happened and threw a massive party which went on for two days that all of Ponyville attended. As this went on, I sat on the edge of the lake and tried to make sense of what occurred. I simply could not believe my eyes. The impossible had happened. Not only had Pinkie defeated Discord, but now she had contended with Suffering.

As if to further shock me, the next day, Pinkie went out into public again and declared, “Listen up, everypony. I know I said before that I wanted all the frowns to go away, but now its personal. I’m declaring war on frowns in this town and I won’t stop until they unconditionally surrender!”

A lit candle had appeared in Ponyville. And that candle was gradually being passed to all the wicks of its inhabitants. Surely the darkness would soon be overwhelmed. I was so happy because of the implications of this that I shouted these words from the top of a high mountain guarded by a dragon:

What is this wonder that I see before my eyes?

It is unthinkable, inconceivable, unimaginable.

Behold in the town of Ponyville is a mare

Who defies the laws of the world.

Look now! She prepares for battle.

She readies herself against the dark ones.

With haste she puts on shining armor.

With speed she dons the clothes of war.

On her front hooves she binds sandals,

Which no evil can hope to thwart.

On her left is the inspiration of meaning,

And on her right is the forceful drive of purpose.

On her rear hooves she binds shoes,

Which will help her halt the adversaries’ charge.

On her right is the bulwark of determination,

And on her left is the entrenching cleat of endurance.

On her body she fastens armor,

Which no enemy can hope to pierce.

To her chest she fastens the breastplate of love

With which she conquers even the Dark Lord

Upon her back she sets the saddle of courage,

Which bears her unyielding spirit.

And on her head she places the helmet of joy

with which she predeclares her victory.

Out of her mouth comes blissful laughter:

That doubled-edged sword which cuts adamantine rock without fail.

And on her side is the shield of peace and will:

The ramparts which will never fall or give way.

Rejoice all Equestria!

She will fight for your freedom.

Tremble O terror; shudder Suffering!

Her campaign against you will not cease.

The Opening

The Terrible Two heard Pinkie Pie’s declaration and were greatly distressed. So they took some time to gather their thoughts and compose themselves in preparation to convene soundly. Around twilight on the next day, once again, they went to Whitetale Wood. There, they found an elliptical clearing where they would begin war council. The sky was overcast on that day; being heavily laden with dark clouds ready to pour out their waves of rain. The two entered the de facto temple of council; the uncut grass being crushed under their hooves audibly.

On the right side of my vision, on the right focus of the ellipse, stood Suffering. The leader stood as tall as Celestia, a towering six feet. She was a white alicorn with a long, black flowing mane. Her eyes were violet and her pupils were slits. Her wingspan was ten feet long and her wings were powerful. Her horn was sharp and long. She was clothed in silver armor and boasted the aegis on her left side. On her right side she kept her white spear and her silver bow. Even naked, I knew that she would seem strong, but with her armor, she was resilient to say the least.

Standing upon the left focus of the ellipse was Fear, the terrible mistress of dread and panic. She too was a divine alicorn; boasting an awesome height of six and a half feet; dwarfing any mortal pony. Her shining coat was purely black like the night; unassuaged by any imperfection or color. Her long, well-kept mane was a striking crimson that could be likened to the blood-red rose, which inspired all who beheld her to shudder. Her eyes were green like emeralds; filled with the knowledge of the aeons. They were full of a petrifying malice which cannot be delimited. One could see the gargantuan muscules that bulged from her body. Her massive wings outstretched to a horrifying twelve feet, and they shook the ground with the intensity of their dreadful might when she spread them. Due to their luster, the heavens were at her command. No fortress had walls high enough to keep her out. No pony could run either fast enough or far enough that Fear could not see them from far away.

Extending from her head was her sharpened, lengthy horn of an intimidating two feet with which she could gore any who displeased her and cast merciless, eternal madness on any who anger her. She had no armor to keep her safe nor did she require any. Nopony was brave enough to stand against her. She carried no weapons, nor were such burdens necessary. Her mind was all that she needed to subdue whole armies that foolishly believed they could impede her in her sole duty. Without lifting a hoof, they were all defeated and sent to a world of everlasting horror from which there was no escape or hope for respite. Yet this rarely occurred. Most of the time they trembled at the very thought of opposing her and never took to the field. Fear was a mistress also of war.

They had given themselves time to calm themselves of any outbursts that they would have made the day before. However I could see that Suffering was not calm per se. Though she did not show it, she was extremely on edge and shaken by the recent incident. Yet she put on a façade well and spoke in a confident tone to Fear. The harbinger of pain thus spoke:

It is a fine day to plan, great Fear.

The sky is shaded before us,

And the unkind sun fails to shine her harsh rays upon our faces;

Blinding us and forcing our honored heads downward towards the pitiful ground.

Look now. A sacred trickle begins from the veiled heavens.

The merciful grey clouds bestow their first blessings upon the lower world.

Soon the exasperating bustle of the cities shall be drowned out by the rain

And the strident noise of the towns will no longer assault our tired ears.

Lovely peace will reign over this world:

The splendor of a storm obscuring the turmoil.

Everypony will take to shelter,

And in their homes they will meet serenity.

One wishes that all days could be as this:

Perfect in light and darkness.

Truly the ponies of old were right when they said,

Everything in moderation.

Yet all good things must come to an end.

Day and night, pleasure and pain; Neither mood is everlasting

Nor is the change slow. It allows for no adaptation.

It is quick and jarring; unexpected, without warning.

This accursed mare is to blame for the present hour of pain.

She declares war against wondrous balance.

She upsets the equilibrium of the world;

Tipping the scales and tearing peace asunder.

She stands against us courageously;

Preparing for the great furor of battle.

She declares us her enemies and clothes herself to clash with us.

Neither side, decisively opposed, can now dream of amity.

Here is a lowly mortal who stands against the deathless principalities.

She marches alone, without fleshly aid or empyreal god to come to her rescue.

How audacious! Ah, the mad resolve with which she undertakes her task.

This is no mission of sanity. Only the senseless dream of such folly.

Yet unbelievably the mare poses no minor threat.

Though unthinkable, the pony poses potential danger.

For even as the smallest of wounds if left unattended can fester and afflict the whole being,

So this mere opponent has the end to undo the brilliance of our deeds.

Thus like the good doctor, we must not neglect our duty.

Khaos’ son showed us this: we cannot delay.

For the green disease beginning in the ankle, now creeps up the foreleg

With the intent to destroy the whole body.

Therefore then, almighty Fear,

Fatherless daughter and peerless goddess,

What say you concerning these things;

You, being so well versed in the art of war?

Thus spoke the bearer of the silver bow. And Fear, who was unfazed by all these things, answered Suffering with a genuine calmness that displayed her assured control over the present danger.

These are the words of the Dark Lord, Azazel,

Who bestowed the art of war to earthly mortals and heavenly deities;

Studying its innermost secrets and fathoming its most veiled mysteries.

Nothing of war is hidden from him and he imparted that wisdom to us.

If we know ourselves and we know our enemy,

We need not fear the result of a hundred battles.

What enables the wise sovereign to strike and conquer,

Achieving beyond the natural range is foreknowledge.

Thus, we must examine our enemy,

(I hope you at least know thyself).

We must meditate upon her weaknesses;

Discovering more than many ways to exploit them.

We must act quickly for as time passes,

Our adversary steps towards her goal without pause.

Nor must we be hasty;

For there is stupid haste in war.

We must strike swiftly,

For our enemy cannot possibly defend,

And hope to attack at the same time.

Momentum will be our friend in this war.

You say that battle is imminent.

So far this is from truth.

For while war is upon us,

We can crush our enemy without drawing the sword.

Truly you speak to the perfect alicorn.

For I, myself, clothed in terrible power,

Shall appear before her in fleshly guise

With the express intent to undo her straightaway.

Though she is brave, I do not believe she is impervious.

Though she is resolved, I believe she can be deterred.

For who in all of heaven or earth, or in the sea

Can hope to stand unafraid against the incarnation of Fear?

We must make our first move in this grand game thus:

I will strike terror in her heart.

I will come against her armed with the dark arts,

And in my genius, she will turn and flee.

For I do not believe that she is ready for the horror of battle.

I do not see the heart of a warrior,

Lusting for blood and pain and glory within this one.

Being only a child by our standards, she will run immediately.

Should this plan fail, though I see no way that it could,

We lose nothing. We have nothing left to lose.

For if our enemy is determined, she has nothing more to gain,

But if she is not meant for war, she will be defeated before she begins.

And hearing Fear’s proposal, Suffering saw that she had spoken well and told her to proceed with her plan. But they by no means departed after this, but they continued to plan out the entirety of the war; examining each foreseen obstacle and determining how they would respond to it. Their scope of the events which they saw coming branched out like a tree. They continued to do this for about a month. And when they were sure they had examined every possibility, and pondered every possible response; choosing from those responses, the most effective one, they broke and readied themselves for the events which would soon unfold before my eyes.

Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie was wasting no time in this conflict. Each day, she took a new territory for herself: With new resolve, she went to her friends who were troubled and she worked relentlessly to bring them to lasting joy. She constantly baked treats for her friends, she put on shows in the streets, and she sang beautiful and uplifting music that must have been impromptu but was so effective. And when she found that she could not fix a problem, such as a disability, she tirelessly worked the disabled pony until they saw that their condition was not nearly as bad as they made it out to be. With this change of heart, even the disabled and hopelessly barren went about their business with joy for life itself.

Her effort was so great that she barely ate or slept. Her friends saw faint signs of this and were concerned. But she said to them, “Oh thanks you guys, but just seeing you all joyful is good enough for me. Why would I waste time sleeping and eating when I can do what really makes me happy?” Nor did her efforts have a small impact. The whole town of Ponyville seemed vibrant and excited. Ponies woke up with the sun and went to work with radiance and eagerness. Everything everypony did had meaning and gave them joy. This was all being done while the Terrible Two were deliberating. She had only just conquered the whole city when they arrived.

When Fear and Suffering came to Ponyville once more, they stood upon the roof of the town hall; invisible to the eyes of all the ponies below. Suffering was shocked by the state to which the town had risen. For so long, she had prided herself in saying that all of the cities in Equestria had only ponies who walked their streets with glum dispositions; however, for the first time in ages, she saw that the inhabitants of Ponyville were generally joyful. Astonished, she shouted and blamed Fear. “What is this unthinkable sight? Do my eyes deceive me? What happened to your ‘momentum?’ We have wasted so much time! While we were planning, the mare has plowed through the region. Quickly, if we delay any longer, she may realize her victory and campaign elsewhere.”

Yet Fear was still calm and unsurprised. “Peace, Suffering; this was to be expected. Yes, while we spent our time in calculation, our enemy has been on the warpath. Because of this, it may appear that she has won the day; that we are now on the defensive and can barely hope to stop her advance. Yet momentum is not all that wins a war. In war, victory can never be truly ensured. We can only secure ourselves against defeat. This is done through lengthy deliberation. The opportunity for victory will be provided by the adversary. In short, wars are not won by ingenious strategies but instead are lost by stupid mistakes.

“While it may appear that we are losing this war, the truth is far from what one can simply see in the present. To grasp victory, we must read many moves into the game. The general who loses a battle engages first and then seeks victory, but the general who wins a battle makes many calculations ere the battle is fought. The mare has not spent a minute on scheming. Therefore, to synthesize these maxims, she is bound to make a mistake and present us with the opportunity for victory which we will seize. We, however, will make no mistakes and therefore have put ourselves beyond the possibility of defeat. Thus, things are going exactly according to plan.”

At this, Suffering calmed herself. “I suppose that you are in the right. Territory can be regained but time cannot. Are we ready to make our first move?”

Fear answered, “The board is set and the pieces are ready to advance. The queen awaits the command of the king.”

“Go then and secure our victory early.”

Hearing this, Fear let herself drop from the height of the edifice. On the way down, she released the magic which kept her unnoticed and appeared to all those in Ponyville. When she approached the ground, she spread her wings and the intensity of the sound was heard throughout the city. She landed and shook the ground; breaking some stones in the paved road in the process.

The citizens of the town, seeing her terrible appearance and conspicuous entrance, screamed loudly and began to run amuck. They tried to flee, but in the confusion, did nothing more than run around in circles. With a smug grin on her face, the black alicorn strode through the chaos which she had created in search of her target. For a few moments she enjoyed hearing the shrieks and screams of bloody murder. Then she passed in front of a running filly who had a light cerulean coat and a white mane. A red glow formed around her horn. She grabbed the little earth pony with her magic and forced her to face her. Being compelled to stare into the eyes of Fear, she screamed louder and began to sob.

Fear ignored the pitiful filly’s lack of composure and asked her, “Where is the one that they call Pinkie Pie?” The filly looked as though she could barely breathe, much less speak. Nonetheless, her captor commanded her. “Tell me where she is and I won’t have to break open your mind.” Yet, as expected, the helpless foal could do nothing more than stutter incoherent syllables.

To this, the terrorizing mare said, “As you wish.” She lifted the filly up higher with magic and forced the frightened earth pony to stare; holding open her eyes. Fear’s pupils dilated and the glow around her horn began to change in color from red to black. As I saw this, I felt a chill run up my spine, for I had an idea of what was about to happen. The filly seemed to anticipate this as well and began to shriek louder than ever.

Yet before the worst happened, Fear heard a voice above the commotion of the crowd. “Hey, Black Snooty, put her down. She didn’t do anything to you.”

Hearing the familiar voice, the mistress of dread dropped the filly who ran off the instant she touched the ground. She looked to her left to find none other than Pinkie Pie who had challenged her. “Ah, so you come to me of your own accord. Good, you saved me the trouble of prying out memory after memory to find you.”

“Why are you being so mean? You scared everybody half to death and now you’re making fillies cry. What kind of pony are you?”

“The better question would be ‘Who are you?’” She corrected. Then the panic-bringer took two mighty leaps. On the first, she jumped to Pie and grabbed her by the skin of her neck. And on the second, she leapt outside of the stampeding crowd.

“Hey, what are you doing? Where are we going?” Pinkie asked.

Fear made one last mighty leap and arrived outside of the sound of the uproar. “Pardon me for handling you so, but I thought it best that we exit the noise.” She placed Pinkie on the ground.

Not in the least bit disturbed by her great display of strength, Pinkie responded, “Well, everybody wouldn’t be going crazy if you hadn’t done that.”

“It was a means to an end. In doing so, I have robbed them temporarily of happiness and have acquired a moment with you.”

The pink pony was caught off-guard. “What…”

The mother of fright raised her voice. “Listen well Pinkie Pie. I have come with a message to you. While you have declared war upon my colleague and I, we are offering you peace.” She stretched out her huge wings again and there was a great flurry of wind. “We have ruled over this world since many years before you were born. And we will keep our throne until the end of days. How like a wave we swept upon this world! We conquered until there was nothing left to conquer. Many opposed us but all failed. All those who dared stand before us were sent to oblivion. Their names were not remembered; for we blotted them out of the histories. Yet here you are facing us as though you were the first. Because of this, I have come with a warning of what will happen if you continue with your folly.”

Then a black aura glowed around her horn again. Suddenly, the scene of Ponyville around them was gone. It was replaced by a huge cemetery. Hundreds of white tombstones were lined up across an open field. I recognized what I was seeing. They had seemed to have transported to a place in West Equestria. “Ah,” I said. “This is an illusion.”

Fear spoke once again in a powerful voice. “Behold, little mare. This is what became of those who stood against our might in the early years. In the beginning, the citizens of Equestria battled against us as a whole. But we broke them with no more effort than it takes to snap a twig. You may recognize this place. This is the great cemetery outside of Fillydelphia, where all those ponies who perished in the great war are buried. If an army could not defeat us, then how can you hope to do so?”

Once more, Fear’s horn glowed with energy and the scene around them changed again. They were standing in the town square in the center of Canterlot. In the middle of the square appeared to be an execution site with a single wooden post surrounded by fencing. Crowded around the fencing were many ponies who looked down at the scene in morbid horror. There were apparitions of Fear and Suffering standing before a stallion who was shackled to the post. He had many open wounds which looked like they were inflicted by a whip and he had many welts and bruises all over his body inflicted by rods. “Look once more.” The winged unicorn said to the element of Laughter. “There have been many like you who have tried to change the world.” Suffering’s apparition thrust her spear into the stallion who groaned loudly and died instantly. “They all failed as this one did. For three years he made his friends happy as you now are. When we asked him to stop, he ignored us. So we did away with the thorn in our side. This story has repeated itself time and time again over the centuries. Every now and then another like him arises like a sickness upon our world. And you are the latest of these diseases.

“Heed my warning Pinkie Pie. Accept my mercy before it is too late. For although you believe that you have made an impact upon this world, your efforts have been fruitless. You will fail ultimately in any case. Even if we left you to your business you would still fail. For after your death, there would be no one else to continue your work. Yet we are not so patient as to wait for that. If you do not surrender now, just as we have with every other like you, we will strike you down. With our terrible might we will fight against you. With our great weapons we will annihilate you and your life will not be remembered. Give up; for there is no shame in admitting defeat to immortal goddesses. All we require is that you cease your fruitless actions, and spend your time doing other, more useful tasks. All we desire is that you will leave us to our work, and we will not destroy you.”

The alicorn finished, her voice echoing as though they were surrounded by walls. These certainly were words that were demoralizing. As a mortal, I would have given up then and there. Yet I knew that Pinkie was better than that. The blissful mare was not discouraged in the least. Rather, she began to laugh. She giggled at first, but soon she could not control herself and burst into a fit of laughter until tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Fear was agitated by this. “What is so funny?” She asked with a booming voice.

“You, silly.” She again struggled to stop laughing. “You’re trying to scare me. [She broke for laughter again.] If you wanted to hurt me you would have already.” She went on for about twenty seconds but she finally was able to control herself. She sighed happily and continued. “I know that I’m gonna to die someday, but that’s no reason not to make everypony joyful until then. In fact, it makes the smiles now so much more extra special because I’m going to die. They make everything worth all the work I do.”

Both Fear and I were awestruck. Not only did she have the audacity to say that she could not be harmed by Fear, which was shocking enough. But then she spoke of her impending doom as though it made everything better. My mind could not process this and I suspect neither could the enemy’s because she just stood there; staring at Pinkie with a blank expression. Pinkie was simply incorruptible. I was finally realizing it. There was literally nothing that one could say that would make her unhappy or give up her pursuit of the prize. It was as if the part of her brain that registered unhappiness was not working properly. But that was not the case, because she was giving sound, logical reasoning behind her beliefs. The very idea that a person like this could exist was simply unfathomable.

Finally, Fear was able to do something. The world around them returned to normal again and they were standing in the streets of Ponyville. Slowly, her visage regained her usual, calculative norm. She turned heel and walked away. As she did so, without looking back she said, “We will see you on the battlefield Pinkie Pie. I will remember to pick out some nice roses for your unmarked grave.”

Pinkie retorted with an excited tone. “Well if you put followers on it, then won’t it be marked?”

Hearing this, Fear yelled out in anger and disappeared from mortal sight. Again, she stood before Suffering who was also watching. The white alicorn asked patronizingly, “I suppose this engagement did not go as planned?”

“That was no engagement. It was strictly diplomacy.” She said, trying to keep calm. “We have lost no ground. There was a chance that it would work and it just so happens that it did not. There is nothing we can do.” Saying this, the anger in the alicorn’s voice softened. “We still have the plan. We will operate as we strategized. We will win this war even if we must fight to win it.”

Suffering glanced to her left and the asked, “Does this mean that the opening ceased?”

“Strictly speaking, no. The opening does not end until hostilities occur.”

Suffering pointed. “What do you call that then?”

Pinkie Pie was with the whole town who had gathered around her. The crowd praised her loudly, saying that she had laughed in the face of danger. They asked her how she was able to do it, and she answered as though it was obvious. “Well, duh! The best way to beat the scary things is just to laugh at them, because then you realize that you don’t have anything to be scared of.” They shouted as one unit and declared that they would be as brave as lions with her until she had victory over this proclaimed enemy. Then Pinkie broke into a song, whose words were easy to follow and the entire town sung with her happily.

Fear's voice betrayed that she was annoyed and enraged. She lowered her volume to a deadly whsiper. “A thousand plagues be on that mare.”

As if just to further aggravate her, Suffering drew an arrow across her silver bow and loosed it at Pinkie in the same way she had against Sugar Song. Yet the arrow was stopped in midair and dissipated.

The Middlegame: Foolishness

A few days later, Suffering went into the Everfree Forest which was secluded from the world. To this day, it is still the one place in Equestria which cannot be tamed by ponies. Thus it was a perfect place for her to take a quiet walk through. Though it was dim, I perceived that she could see everything around her though as it was midday as was evident in her avoidance of particularly dangerous paths. She seemed to know which way to go even when the trails ended and always easily steered clear of feral creatures, which would have gone unnoticed until it was too late if a mortal were traversing through the wood.

Eventually, she came to a place in the deepest part of the forest. She crossed a rickety bridge and stood before the ruins of the great lunar palace. I sighed as I followed her to its doors. So much history was contained within it, yet its former glory had faded away with centuries of neglect. As she stepped through the threshold of the main gate, memories flooded through my mind as I saw the beautiful stained glass windows that depicted the heroic deeds of ponies in the past. Moreover, there was a quality in the ruin that made it seem magical. One could almost feel the magic of the place which had accumulated over the long years. There was just something about the mossy stone and broken roof letting in sunlight that made one feel like there were enough secrets there to fill a library there. And that if one simply sat down and listened for a few minutes, they might be able to hear a whispering voice speaking those perpetual mysteries.

Suffering stepped into the throne room. It was a breathtaking view. The room was circular with the roof purposely missing for the purpose of stargazing. Around the walls were monolithic Corinthian columns a hundred feet high. Each section of a column, being five feet long and ten feet around, had a great story or legend carved into it in Equestrian. These were the last remnants of those who have fought the good fight and made history remember them that they might live forever. The two great seats of power still remained. Although now they were simple slabs of stone, in their day they were heavily ornamented with elaborate patterns boasting fine silk and gold and colorful cushions. The dais had in its center a great circle with a silver star with ten points carved into the stone. Around it were several words in a forgotten language containing what was rumored in the old days to be awesome power. In its center, Fear was sitting.

Suffering approached her and said, “My Fear, I believe that we are in one accord. Truly this place is perfect for our purposes, unlike the restrictive and inappropriate nature of that wood to which we are so accustomed.” The black alicorn did not respond, but sat with her eyes closed as if she were in deep thought. “Are you still fuming over your wasted efforts on the adversary? ‘Twas truly not so much of a defeat was it?”

“It was not a vain attempt." Fear said. "The master of war does not waste her time making moves which only fulfill one objective. Thus, by no means does she ever make one that may succeed solely by way of chance.”

The white alicorn snorted. “What other goal could you have had in mind during that display? Your sole desire was to intimidate the mare into submission, no?”

Fear began. “Do you recall when I said that we must know our enemy in order to win this war?”

Suffering responded. “Yes, I do.”

“That was my intent in the process of that attempt, but I assume that you are nonplussed as to how one can make a connection between these two premises?”

“Indeed, I do not see your warrant.”

“Would it be fair to say that in the course of our deliberation, we considered every possibility; exploring every conceivable scenario that could become reality in this war?”

“That is fair.”

“However, as intensive as these calculations were, is it not unfortunate that we cannot, as of now, be certain of exactly which train of events this conflict will follow?”

Suffering answered, “That is very unfortunate.” It was at this point that I realized Fear was very intelligent (or at least well read). Either she had thought of this exchange ahead of time or she was forming a didactic argument on the spot. Each of her questions had to be phrased perfectly so that they could only be answered with a positive or negative response.

The war-logician continued. “In addition to gathering intelligence, must we not also be most concerned with slowing our enemy’s progress with continuous attacks in the interest of speed, which is key in this war?”

“That is equally important.”

“The game of chess was made to resemble war. In the game, each player may only move one piece per turn. If we could somehow accomplish both of those goals simultaneously, or kill two birds with one stone, as it were, would that not be greatly advantageous for us?”

“Doing so would be very beneficial.”

“With this in mind, my intentions for that act of diplomacy can become obvious. On one hand I did indeed leave a matter to chance; that being the wish that our opponent would simply quit early in the game. However, my design was not limited to that. On the other hand, my other, unspoken purpose was to force her to reveal something about herself. For in the words of a philosopher, ‘You do not truly know somepony until you fight them.’ Of course, I percieve that this universal statement does not fully satisfy your curiosity on the matter of my aim?”

“I am still in the dark as for the specifics.”

“As I have just said, my goal was to compel her to reveal either her weaknesses or at least her strengths. By demanding that she surrender, I created a situation where she would be compelled to act. In acting, she showed a great strength: that she is both determined to carry out her mission and unafraid to face any obstacle to do that. But, this is not the whole of the matter. The strength in an enemy is a daunting hindrance for a weak general, but for a strong general, it is a valuable indication. Tell me, if you are the general of an army of a finite number of soldiers and you send men the frontlines to strengthen your rear, have you not, by strengthening your rear, weakened your frontline?”

“Of course.”

“And conversely, if you realize that the frontline is lacking in force and you send soldiers from your rear to strengthen it, have you not weakened your rear?”

“Such reasoning is elementary.”

“With this in mind, because our foe is strong in one area, namely courage, does the principle derived from this example not imply that she is weak in another?”

“That is not unthinkable.”

“Then we have thus arrived at the thoughts which were upon my mind at the time of our last move which in part drove me to make it. I sought to reveal her weakness, but instead I found a strength. Yet this strength, by nature, has the potential to reveal a weakness. With the hope that such a weakness exists, a foreseen event which we have recently witnessed is now the subject of our interest. Returning to our metaphor that this war can be likened to chess, is not the goal of chess twofold; being to protect one’s own king and kill the other?”

“That is the objective.”

“Therefore, in the opening of the game, should a good player not make it his goal to protect one’s king with a castle of defensive pieces and position his offensive pieces in such a way that they are most able to attack?”

“That sounds like a good strategy.”

“Yet, because only one piece can be moved per turn, does not this appear like a lengthy process which would consume a great deal of time?”

“It appears that such maneuvering would require much time.”

“Yet, if we examine our specific situation, the opening has lasted but a few days. Thus both kings are undefended and the forces of both sides are not in a position to launch a massive assault. This often leads to many smaller scale skirmishes which are difficult to both plan and win. Such a decision to end the opening quickly is to take a considerable risk, for either it means that one believes that one is more skilled at reading into very difficult hypothetical trains of possibilities, or that one is foolish. Strength (the trait which our enemy has) and intelligence are rarely two traits which are held in the same person. Hence, does it not seem likely that our opponent is lacking in intelligence?”

“Such an induction is true.”

“Good! Then it should be obvious that our next attack should fulfill two goals. Firstly, we must slow or halt the opponent’s advance. Secondly, we must do that in such a way that we reveal a weakness of our enemy that our future attacks may exploit that weakness. Therefore, would it not be wise to design an attack which would confirm whether or not our enemy is irrational?”

“Such council is quite wise.”

“Then finally, we have arrived at the current subject of my thoughts. I am in the process of preparing a piece to throw in our adversary’s way and know her fault for certain. There is only one issue for which I do not have a solution. While momentum is not the sole factor that wins a war, it is nonetheless a substantial one. The mare has begun a series of attacks that we have been forced to respond to; using up our turns while she prepares subsequent assaults.”

To this, Suffering finally found a chance to break the chain and speak for herself. “That is no problem at all!” She said with a wide, evil grin spreading across her face. “In fact, I already know the exact path we can take in order to meet both of those goals with ease.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Once more, I found myself observing Pinkie Pie. The heroine was before Nurse Redheart outside of the operating room of the Ponyville hospital. “Well … Is she going to be okay?”

The practitioner of medicine looked at the jolly mare with eyes of pity. “We were able to stop Rainbow Dash’s bleeding for the time being.” She said at first, but there was an extremely uneasy pause. “But I regret to say that we couldn’t completely stop the progression of the disease. We’ve never seen anything like it. It spread through her system so fast that if you didn’t get her here when you did, then she wouldn’t be alive now.” She paused again. Pinkie leaned in close to the white mare; looking like she was desperate to quickly hear what she knew was coming. “And unfortunately, because of the severity of the symptoms and how little we know about this ailment, she only has a little time to live.”

The pink pony’s eyes grew wide. There was another uneasy silence. My heart ached for her. She loved all of Ponyville dearly, but she loved Rainbow Dash more than she loved herself. I knew that such a report about her beloved friend was simply too much to take. I had never seen such an expression on her face before; at least not since I saw her on the rock farm as a filly. Her mouth opened as though she wanted to say something but wasn’t able to speak a word. Finally she managed with her voice shaky and cracking, “I can’t accept that. I’ll go to her and make her happy. Then she’ll get better because laughter is the best way to get better.”

The nurse put a hoof on Pinkie’s shoulder. “I’m not going to lie to you, because I know that you really care for Rainbow. This isn’t a kind of disease that can be healed like that. This is different. If you really care for your friend, you should find another way. While hard science has no answer, you may find one elsewhere.”

The joy-bringer’s head fell. “Thank you Nurse Redheart. I’ll go and find a way to make Dashie get better. How much time does she have?”

“Like I said, she doesn’t have long. Don’t take my word for it, because I can’t say for sure, but I’d say she has about six days.”

Pinkie looked up; being very shocked. “Is that it? That’s not even a week.”

“Well, this is an extremely advanced infection. I admit it shocks me as well, because it usually takes symptoms like this days to emerge. It’s like this ailment was engineered or something.”

Pinkie galloped out of the hospital in a rush. From her suddenness, I perceived that she had an idea. She ran hard and fast and soon passed the west entrance to the city. She continued on and eventually neared the Everfree Forest. Reaching it, she skated the edges until she found a well-travelled pathway. She followed it and, with her rapidity soon arrived at the house of Zecora. She hurriedly beat upon the door and called her name.

When Zecora answered the door, Pinkie let out a torrent of speech. “Zecora, you gotta help me. Rainbow Dash got sick all of a sudden and then I took her to the hospital and then they tried to help her like forever and I was so worried and then Nurse Redheart told me that she’s gonna die in six days and I can’t help her get better with smiles. You gotta help me!” She ended and sucked in air; having spoken all in one breath.

“Well, Pinkie Pie you must come in now, for I wish to help you, this I vow. Come, I must hear more of this disease, for if I know of it we can cure in it a breeze.” Saying this, the Zebra ushered the mare inside and asked her to recount more clearly the events leading up to Rainbow Dash’s hospitalization. She pushed hard in order to have Pinkie tell her more of her symptoms. Finally she seemed to have reached a conclusion. “We may yet be able to cure your friend before she meets her untimely end. I saw this ailment in my younger day. It came from above. Above must pay. But for now you must go to a place which you must get to with all haste. There you will surely find the cure, if your intentions are right and your heart be pure. I will tell you of a place in the east, where you will find a most fearsome beast. It’s a sphinx that guards what you seek, but to get past her, wisdom you will have to speak.”

Hearing this, Pinkie did not care to hear the “details” but frantically asked Zecora to tell her how to reach this place. She complied, but warned her throughout her directions. As soon as she knew where she was going, she bolted off. The look which she had given the nurse pony was gone. It was now replaced by a countenance of the greatest determination, beyond any I had ever seen her make. She embarked on a self-ordained mission in which she would not falter. Hearing the words of Zecora, she had glimpsed the prize. For two days she travelled east; barely sleeping and not eating. Through rain and beating heat she galloped as fast as she could through grasslands and forests and rivers. When two days had passed, she arrived at the edge of a desert of sand where she found a massive pyramid whose faces where covered with silver and whose tips were covered with gold.

Hurrying around to its south face, she found a great door which led into the edifice. She went in and found a large chamber dimly lit by torches. On the far wall was a door which she sprinted towards. But as she neared it, her tail twitched and she heard a terrifying screech from above. She yipped and looked up to find a sphinx falling from the ceiling. She leapt out of the way and narrowly avoided being crushed.

The beast landed with a crash and screamed, “Why are you here?”

Despite the ferocity of the creature, Pinkie answered boldly, “I’m here to get a cure for my sick friend.”

The fiend’s face was human in nature but very misconstrued. Upon hearing this, suddenly it fell to its belly. “I am the guardian of this cure which you seek.” She said. “If you seek an end to the Red Death you must answer my riddle. Answer correctly and I will move aside. Answer wrongly and I will attack. Does this make you afraid? The choice to hear it is yours.”

At this point it should not surprise you that Pinkie did not need to think to answer that question. “Tell me the riddle. I have to save Dashie.”

The sphinx smiled and flared her tongue briefly. The she spoke in a whisper. “I can be found where anything cannot. Dead men eat me all the time, but if a living man eats me, he'll die. What am I?”

I gave the riddle a moment’s thought and soon came to the answer. It was child’s play once one gave it thought. The same could not be said for Pinkie; for as I looked up, she appeared clueless. First, there was a blank expression on her face. Then her visage contorted as she began to think hard about it. I sighed. She was overthinking it, and would probably never come to the answer. She was a smart mare, but I perceived that plays on words were not her forte. As she did with every other problem she faced, she sat on her rump and racked her mind for a solution. Yet, as I said, the answer to that kind of question cannot be found in the deep recesses of the mind, but rather it is in the most visible parts.

For several hours she thought; her face screwed up in deep thought. I noticed also the sphinx. As time passed, she began to stare at Pinkie very intently. The look on her face was the same as when a lion eyes the choicest gazelle. She was extremely patient as she did not move; waiting for an answer. Yet it appeared to me as if she was exercising great control in not immediately leaping upon and devouring the helpless pony. At one point I thought I saw a drop of drool leak out the corner of her mouth, but maybe it was just my imagination.

After the sun had crossed a great portion of the sky, Pinkie finally broke and exclaimed. “I can’t take it anymore. I have to try something. I’m just gonna guess.”

Hearing this, the sphinx looked like she was about to explode with sadistic glee. But her voice was very calm and smooth. “Very well. Give me your answer and we shall see if fortune favors you.”

Pinkie hesitated only for a moment. It was obvious she was about to commit suicide with this decision. I wished then that I could have helped her and shouted out for her not to speak, though of course she could not hear me. She yelled out, “It’s poi-”

“Pinkie, wait!” A voice shouted from outside the pyramid. In rushed four ponies which I knew well. They were the Element bearers. Twilight, the unicorn who would one day be praised as the greatest sage of all time; answering the most difficult questions which had stumped philosophers since ancient times and fathoming the greatest mysteries, had shouted to her friend. “Pinkie, don’t answer if you don’t know!”

The pink mare glanced back and gasped. “How did you all know I was here?”

“Zecora told us everything and we came as fast as we could. You shouldn’t guess on a riddle if it means staking your life on it.”

“But I have to try. Even if there’s only a teeny chance, I still have to take it to save Dashie.”

The herald of the dawn answered, “But that’s no reason to risk your life when you have other options. You’re right that we have to save Rainbow, but you should have asked us for help. Tell us the riddle and we can help you.”

Applejack broke in. “She’s right, Sugarcube. Y’all shoulda asked us to help ya. We wanna save RD just as much as you and ah reckon we have just as much a right.” Fluttershy and Rarity nodded in agreement.

Seeing that she was not alone, a tear came to Pinkie’s eye. “Thank you. Thank you all so much. I love you guys.”

Rarity answered, “There’s no reason to thank us, dear. We are simply doing what friends do. Now, let’s hurry. We need to act quickly if we’re going to get back to Ponyville in time.”

Twilight addressed the Sphinx. “Tell me the riddle and I’ll answer it.”

“I gave the riddle to the pink one. Thus the pink one is to answer. There is no turning back.”

Twilight groaned. “Pinkie, tell me, what was the riddle?”

Pinkie thought back for a moment. “It went, ‘I can be found where anything cannot. Dead men eat me all the time, but if a living man eats me, he'll die. What am I?’”

It took Twilight only a few seconds to find the solution. She said happily, “Oh, that’s easy. The answer is-”

“Tell her the answer and I will be permitted to destroy you!” The sphinx screamed. All of the five jumped back. Fluttershy covered her eyes and fell to the ground, shaking. “Did I not say it was her question to answer?”

Again the star-marked unicorn groaned and she slapped her hoof to her face. “Pinkie, I can’t tell you what it is, but I can give you a hint.” She looked towards the monster. “Right?”

The sphinx shifted uneasily and responded, “There is no statute against aiding her.”

Twilight looked back at her friend and said, “Pinkie, I know that you have it in you. I may be wrong, but considering how long you’ve been here, I’d say you’re overthinking it. It sounded like you were about to say poison, but you have to think. Dead men can’t eat poison. In fact, they can’t eat at all.”

Pinkie looked confused. “But the riddle said…”

“Exactly.”

Suddenly, a figurative light bulb materialized over the party pony’s head. She immediately looked at the sphinx with a triumphant and confident glare and said. “It’s nothing!”

The hybrid creature suddenly looked horrified, and said, “Correct.” After saying this, she disappeared into nothingness. The four shouted and cheered when they saw this and ran to hug the victor all at once. The celebration went on until Fluttershy quietly said, “Um, girls, we still have to get the cure.” So they all realized that time was short and they broke through the door at the far end of the chamber.

Running inside, they found a vile with a white liquid resting upon an altar. Twilight quickly grabbed it with magic and placed it inside her saddlebag since Pinkie, who had made no time for such preparation, did not have one. So as a team, they all braved the elements over the great terrain on the journey back to Ponyville. Like lightning they flew over the fields and grasslands and woods. Together they braved the everlasting storm. Bolting into the east gate of Ponyville, they rushed headlong to the hospital. Thus, on the evening of the fifth day of Rainbow Dash’s strange illness, she was given the cure, which has been replicated today and is now called spesalbus, which means, “The white hope.” On the second morning after this, the pegasus was released with a clean bill of health. And once more, Pinkie was praised by the town for doing a great deed. Yet this time, her greatest friends, the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, we lauded with her.

The Middle Game: Bonds

It was a day after the celebration of Rainbow Dash’s release that I went to the lunar palace’s ruins again. I smiled with sadistic glee as I saw yet another council of the Terrible Two unfold before me. Suffering was wailing again. “What has become of us? What has happened? She was supposed to fight this war without mortal aid and now she has five others at her side. What is this folly? Fear, again I blame you for this! When you sought to find a weakness, we have found only a strength. Woe is us; for now we are struggling to dig six thorns out of our flesh. Even now they aid her in her mission. They go through that town day by day, further entrenching their already impregnable position. What will you have us do now; now that we have seen so many failures?”

Fear opened her eyes as she sat upon the dais. She scoffed and began to laugh. At first it was only a light giggle, but it soon became a maniacal fit.

“What can be so humorous? We are being undone!” Suffering Screamed.

Fear calmed down enough to speak. “Are you truly so blind, my leader? Have you truly learned nothing from this? We have lost nothing!” She suppressed another evil giggle. “Furthermore, we have gained so much. Do you not see? Our situation can be likened to a hilarious scenario in which we sent spies into the enemy camp. The spies were found but when they were exposed, rather than executing them, our enemy showed them around their camp; exposing willfully every detail and then…,” She paused for more laughter. “…sending them back to us with provisions!”

Suffering sneered. “Are you mad?”

Once again Fear burst into laughter; ignoring her commander’s interrogations. Finally, she gained ahold of herself, sighing, and spoke with a clear voice. “Listen well, Suffering. While it may appear that our enemy has gained much, she has done nothing more than paint a target on her weak spot. I told you just previously that no attack we make will be in vain. There is always the chance that a specific attack will have a chance to succeed, as we want it to appear to our enemy who believes that she is gaining ground; however, in truth, these are meant to fail; for we learn more in failure (namely our enemy’s success) than in our victory.

“Think back to what I said before and you will see that our true intentions were satisfied greater than we could have hoped. Firstly, we found out that our suspicions were true. The mare is indeed foolish. In that regard, we have gained valuable intelligence. Yet I assume that you are more concerned with our second discovery: the adversary’s acquisition of allies. This may at first seem like a travesty, but when you look closer, in the same regard as her bravery, there is an equal downside to her strength.”

Suffering was taken aback. “How could having allies possibly be detrimental in any way?”

“Aid, by definition, cannot be unhelpful. Yet from whom the aid comes, can at times be a double-edged sword. For as one steers closer and closer to an ally, one becomes more and more vulnerable. On the one hand, the opponent has allies. But on the other hand, those allies can turn against her. For in the last, immortal words of Discord before he was vanquished by the earthly princesses of this world, ‘You may defeat chaos today Celestia, but enjoy it. Your victory will be short-lived … Good can only be prevalent for so long before Evil musters its forces, and seizes upon the heart – twisting friendships into war, loyalty into deceit, and kindness into unadultered hate.’”

“Do you mean to say that this can be a good thing?”

“That is precisely the case. Only, in order for you…” She began to slow her rate of speaking. “…to take full advantage of it you will have to swallow your pride and…” She stopped for a moment.

Suffering was anxious to hear her finish. “Well … what?”

“You ears will not take joy in what I am about to say.”

“If it helps us win this war then I will take any necessary steps.”

“…We will have to call upon Discord once more.”

Suffering stood silently. After a moment, her left eye began to twitch. She spoke through gritted teeth. “What do you mean we shall have to call upon Discord?”

“Well, we would be hard pressed to turn our enemies against themselves without his aid. If you recall, we did indeed discuss this possibility in our deliberation.”

She yelled, “Yes, but I did not think you to be serious. How can we ask Khoas’ son for help now that we have released and imprisoned him once more?”

“Calm yourself. As long as we hold the keys to his freedom, we are his masters. Though he may act out of free will after his second release, he will be indebted to us, for we have done him no wrong. His judgment was fair, and suspension of that judgment will be a gift.”

Suffering thought over this for another minute. “Very well, Fear. We may go and revive the draconequus. But, I do this only because my desire for victory is greater than that of my hate for his faults.” Saying this, they both dematerialized. I swallowed. This would prove to be problematic.

I found them as they entered unnoticed into the royal gardens and found the petrified Discord. Suffering spoke and said, "Discord, son of Khaos, we, Suffering and Fear, being disharmonic divinities, hereby release you from your prison of stone." There was a flash of light and color returned to the now animate draconequus.

Discord smiled smugly. “Oh, back so soon?” He said. "What happened to me messing everything up?"

Suffering knew time was of the essence. “You can be self-exultant later Discord; for if you do so now there may not be a chance later. There is now a more pressing issue.”

“Oh, there you go again; always so curt with everybody. You can never stop to smell the roses can you?”

Fear broke in, “Discord, I love savoring the chaos just as much as you, but Suffering speaks well. We would not have revoked her edict on you if the situation did not necessarily call for it. The hands of the clock move faster than we would have them. Now is the time for work, not for play.”

Discord sighed. “I should have known that it would be like this. Very well, if I help you, will you both at least try to enjoy yourselves a little? Life just isn’t fun if you don’t appreciate it every once in a while.”

Suffering spoke out of necessity. “Discord, if we win this war we will sacrifice a thousand ponies on your altar and then we will feast for seven years.”

“Hmm, tempting,” He said sarcastically. “But keep the ponies alive. There’s no fun if there’s no one to torment and I dislike the idea of shedding so much blood over nothing.” I could see a gleam of disgust in his visage. An awkward silence ensued.

Fear thought it was time to move on, so she explained to Discord the situation; relating to him all the events that had passed since his sentence. Then she proposed an elaborate plan which would require the effort of each of the Terrible Three.

“And you are sure this will work?” Discord asked.

“We planned this from the beginning. The only thing that we were unsure of was whether this plan would actually fit the existing situation. With all the preexisting requirements, this will work, and our victory will be accomplished. But of course, there is only one small problem.”

“And that is…”

“If he will actually hear us.”

Suffering reassured her and said, “Let us simply take the chance. We lose not so much if he does not.”

Discord and Fear discussed this and said, “Then call him and we shall see if fate is on our side.”

I shivered and shook in disbelief. “No,” I thought. “Surely they cannot call him. He cannot be ordered around like a servant. Surely he will not act upon this.” This situation was so ominously unthinkable. Their plan so terrifying for one who knew of whom they spoke.

I followed the three as they traversed the great ocean in the west. They came to a place that is inhabited by the dragons: horrible creatures who have a strange language that was spoken by the civilized creatures of the east (ponies, cows, and griffons to an extent) only in the ancient days before Equestria was founded. Everything in this land was megalithic. The cities stretched for miles and the houses were thousands upon hundreds of square feet in area. The architecture of this place was peculiar. Into the stone of every building were carved bizzare glyphs and symbols whose meaning the natural mind cannot comprehend.

The dragons themselves were fearsome. Some were as large as houses, and others the size of hills. All had long teeth the size of a pony and as sharp as razors. The color of their scales was often brilliant and even the black ones gleamed in the sun even as the shields of an army do when they advance upon an undefended town. Their eyes were humongous; having pupils like slits and irises of many dark colors.

Through the capital city of Nihtegesa the tiny ponies treaded; being eyed by all the giants who passed. They came to its center which was of such massive proportions that it cannot be measured by civilized hooves. The whole structure is made of sapphire and gold and it shines in the sun from afar. There are an innumerable amount of steps of gold, which they traversed instantly because of the medium through which they traveled. At their top, there is a sapphire door which opened with Suffering’s shout of an unintelligible word.

Inside of the temple is a large room. The walls are made of many types of brilliant stones and metals –amethyst, ruby, emerald, silver, diamond, and much more- each which forms a mesmerizing pattern in the walls. Upon the ceiling is a great painting that depicts a war that happened before even my time in which the dragons were defeated by the ponies and banished to the west. There is a massive circle carved into the ground, and within the circle is inscribed squares that form a star with twelve points. And within that star there are many signs: the sun and moon and stars; each painted with lifelike colors. All throughout the circle are written words which hold the power to enslave any mortal and bring them under their speaker’s heel for all time.

At the back of the temple there is a throne of an unimaginable size made from heated bronze, which likewise has not been measured by civilized hooves. Upon it is an immense black dragon with purple eyes, and leathery wings colored gold. His claws are like the tips of mountains and his fangs stretch on longer than the breadth of Ponyville. To this day, I believe, he still sits upon the throne.

Suffering came forth and stood in the center of the big circle and shouted to him from so far away. “Hail Deaðbӕr Junindinok, king of dragons, god of death, crusher of spirits, and conqueror of nations. We come, asking you for your assistance. We come from the land of Equestria where ponies rule. There is one who is against us who threatens to overtake all of that land. If she is allowed, her reign will extend the dominion to this place. And, although I do not question your power, I believe she could prove to be a thorn in your side. We humbly have arrived here to ask for your aid.”

The dragon glared at the tiny pony. He did not answer for a long while, but Suffering dared not speak and anger him. Eventually, he opened his mouth. His voice was deep but his words flowed. “τι δει σε ἐμοι βοηθειν; το τλημον ουδεν χρησοται.” In retrospect, it was hilarious that he had changed languages on her in mid-conversation, but at the time nothing was anything but terrifying. Roughly, his words translate to, “Why is it necessary for me to come to your aid? The wretch will do no such thing.”

Suffering hesitated, and spoke very slowly; apparently not having spoken the language in a while. “εγω μεν γιγνωσκω ουδεν, ω δεσποτα. ἡ δε αυτη θυμον χαρες εχει.” Her response was, “Master, I know nothing, but this one holds the spirit of joy.”

The dragon, who was lazily reclining before, sat up and there was a large sound at his slightest movement. “If you lie fola [filly], I shall crush you beneath my feet.”

Suffering flinched, but answered, “What I speak is the truth.”

Hearing this, the dragon lifted his mighty head and opened his jaws. He roared with his terrible might. The blast of the sound was deafening. Even as a desert storm sweeps upon its victims when the air was calm just seconds ago and buries them under torrents of wind and sand so that none escape, even so was the dragon’s roar. No later had the beast’s thunder finished escaping his jaws, did he cry out. His words no longer flowed, but were broken. “Gúð to innian! Invoke!” He mixed two languages in one quotation; quite unusual to say the least.

Suffering, not wishing to anger the beast, cried out, “O dragon and god, I invoke thee!” The words in the circle illuminated. There was a flash of light, and the dragon disappeared. Suffering, who had been knocked over, rose to her hooves; shaking.

Fear, recovering first, smiled and said, “Truly, today our victory is complete.”

♦ ♦ ♦

It was not a usual site. I saw a decrepit stallion walk into Ponyville on the first day of the week. His mane was matted and unkept; his body unwashed and dirty. He looked as if he had been beaten; having bruises of varying severity in visible places. His face was grim as death and his movements were like one who was about to die. I perceived that the tales of Ponyville’s prosperity and joy had brought him here as was the case with many others who had entered into the town with similar conditions. Or maybe he was like Max, who had been exiled from the capital. Whatever the reason, he walked towards a place where I knew there had long been a vacant house.

On his way, he was spotted by an ecstatic Pinkie Pie who had immediately realized there was a new face. As was the case with all the others, she immediately saw it was necessary to cheer him up. He did not immediately respond to her efforts, but of course, this too was common. It would only be a matter of time before she broke him of his grumpiness and he allowed himself to taste joy. He would be one more plot of territory for the determined soldier of joy to conquer.

She did not hound him. Though she was still as aggressively kind as with Max, she saw it fit to take things a bit slower. She learned much about his personal life simply by observing him. She had long since trained herself to deduce nearly everything that could be understood about a person without asking them. Eventually, she did some meddling and found that he had attended several tea parties in his prime. Seeing the hole in the stallion’s defenses, she went to Rarity and asked her if she could host a tea party for the benefit of this pony. With a little coaxing and the promise of a favor later, Rarity was convinced. Pinkie went to him on the sixth day of the week and invited him to the Carousel Boutique for a tea party the following day. As expected, though he appeared glum, he accepted and showed that there was hope for him.

Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Mr. Britten Lauponi sat around the decorated table. Rarity had spared no expense in laying out an extravagant afternoon tea for them. The white tablecloth was adorned with golden lace weaved into intricate patterns which the eye could follow all the day. The silverware was priceless; made of fine porcelain imported from the near west. She had put up fancy curtains and some fine paintings which she had stored in her attic. She had also brought out imported treats such as scones with raspberry jam and clotted cream, and little cakes (which Pinkie would surely be consuming by the hoofful). All that they waited on was the tea.

“So, Mr. Lauponi, what did you do in Manehatten?” Pinkie asked.

“Well, I was a criminal defense attorney; quite the duty, but someone had to do it.”

“Ooh, so what kind of ponies did you defend; any exciting cases?”

“Well, interesting that you ask. There was in fact this one case where…”

The tea party had just started and Pinkie had already succeeded in extricating more words from him than he had spoken in the entire time he was in the town. I smiled as I watched the mare work her magic. Pinkie did not know too much about legal proceedings, but she quickly intuited that Rarity did and soon she was about to start a conversation between the two where Mr. Lauponi really opened up. With all of Ponyville being brought under Pinkie’s hoof so easily, I was wondering whether or not she would decide it was time to move to the next town …

The Terrible Three entered unseen and interrupted my musing. This would be most unfortunate. “Out of all days,” I asked. “Why did it have to be today?” The three stood around the parlor like lionesses ready to pounce upon their prey. Yet they were not fixing their gaze upon Pinkie Pie as they did most of the time. Rather, their attention was focused on the grey, white-maned stallion with the quill for a cutie mark. This made me very nervous, for knew what they had planned. Like wolves they had amassed to easily take down their target: Discord, the god who sought to turn many ponies against Pinkie; Fear, the divine alicorn who would complement Discord’s prowess; and Suffering, who had invoked [called into herself] the god of death.

A buzzer went off in the kitchen and my heart skipped a beat. The hour had come. Dread gripped me and would not let go. Thus I did the only thing I could do. I solemnly told Pinkie, even though she could not hear me, “My beloved friend, if I could help you I would. Because of all you have done for this world, because of the hope you inspired, and because of the peace that you have brought to Equestria which shall be remembered for many ages to come, I would gladly die for you. And moreover, I would be more than happy to endure what you are about to suffer in your place; for of all the ponies in this world, including even the reigning princesses, you are the most undeserving of this treatment to which you are about to be subjected. And even though your ears are not tuned to my voice, which has spoken to all who would not listen throughout the ages, I want to tell you that in spite of all who will hate you; not knowing that they are wrong, …” There was no way to express it in this language, so I stared until I believed I could see deep into her soul. There I imagined myself carving into its walls the words, “σε αγαπαω.” The phrase can rendered, "I love you." But that takes away all meaning. It means that one has a desire to do what is best for a person every moment of every day; even if that causes pain to either party. Yet even this description does not fully encompass the implications of my using that word.

Hearing the buzzer, Rarity stood up and said, “Oh, that must be the tea. I’ll be right back.” She opened the parlor door and left the room; closing the portal behind her.

No sooner had she done this, did a huge, evil grin appear on each of the Terrible Three’s faces. Fear spoke. “We have spent so many months planning for this day. I’ve been waiting for too long.”

“Haven’t we all.” Discord said.

Suffering shouted, “Go!” Instantly, the three released the magic on themselves to make them visible and able to interact with the world. Neither Mr. Lauponi nor Pinkie even had time to scream. Without making a sound, Fear leapt upon the stallion and pinned him to the ground. Suffering grabbed the butter knife and, despite its dullness, brutally thrust it into his throat; dealing a fatal wound. Then she tossed it to Discord who had leapt upon Pinkie. The dragon-horse smeared the blood on the knife all over Pinkie’s snout and then thrust it into her mouth handle first. He then grabbed Pinkie up and threw her on top of the body of Mr. Lawponi.

Suffering silently signaled for the assassins to scatter. The three dematerialized again. Yet before Fear left, she whispered in Pinkie’s ear, “Tsume.” It was a word in Japanese chess which denotes the first check in a series of checks which will inevitably lead to checkmate.

At that moment, Rarity, hearing the commotion, opened the door. I believe that the whole town heard her shrill scream.

The Endgame: Trials

He was the best lawyer pony around. With the voice of a master orator and the look of a stallion who has spent many years enjoying the sophistication of Canterlot, Francis Lauponi, the brother of Britten Lauponi, never lost a case after fifteen years of practicing the profession. Unlike his brother, his was a prosecutor hired and trained by the Canterlot Royal Guard. He was the best of the best; able to use his silver tongue to woo the jury and his piercing gaze to see any path to winning a case. His long golden mane perfectly matched his flawless white coat and cerulean eyes. He spoke with a refined western Equestrian accent that captivated mares and intrigued stallions. When he spoke his words seemed to flow from his lips like a river and lingered in the air so that ponies could wishfully latch onto them.

I had watched him myself several times and I despised the miser. I had no problem against foreigners, but those who used their eccentricity to deceive were vile. Neither had he any respect for any of his clients; considering them like pariahs with whom he had to force himself to associate. But if he treated his clients like uncleanly mules, he treated the defense as though they were a plague on the world. They were guilty simply for standing trial. Even if he knew for a fact they were innocent, he would twist the facts the best way that he could until the situation seemed so convoluted that the jury was misdirected to believe the defendant was certainly deserving of the maximum penalty. How I hate men like him who manipulate the sacredness of justice!

And of course, the Terrible Three had made arrangements for him to stand against Pinkie in her trial. And with the testimony which was sure to come against her, she was being led like a lamb to its slaughter. Nor did it help that she was a poor mare. Having sold everything she had for the joy of her friends in the town, she could not afford a lawyer. She was assigned a public defender. I will not say that he was bad, but his inexperience would spell her doom. Right from the opening statements of the trial, I could tell that she had no hope for acquittal.

Through the broken speech of a very shocked Rarity, the prosecution had proved to the jury that the murder was done in a closed room situation. There was only one door in the parlor which was closed until Rarity reopened it. All of the windows were locked and would have made sound if unlocked and opened. There was no sound that was made during the murder except for the toppling of chairs and the sound of the gagging victim. There were no hoofprints anywhere that didn’t match those of Pinkie, Rarity, or the late Mr. Lauponi. Pinkie was found by Rarity with a knife (the proven murder weapon) in her mouth on top of the victim with his blood all over her muzzle. I really must say that though I saw it with my own eyes, Pinkie’s defense was very weak. I stood in the front of the courtroom, forcing myself to watch and madly hope for any kind of salvation for my beloved friend.

“So, Miss Pie, let me see if I understand zis correctly.” The silver-tongued prosecutor said. “You expect ze court to believe zat three monsters just appeared from out of nowhere into Miss Rarity’s parlor, killed a pony without making a single noise and then just disappeared again. ’Ave I ’eard zis correctly?”

Pinkie said with a pleading tone, “Well I know it sounds crazy but that’s what happened.”

“And you also claim zat Discord, a statute which has been shown as of today to be in the Canterlot Gardens, came to life and smeared ze blood from the murder weapon on your muzzle, and zen threw you onto ze victim?”

I slapped my hand to my face. The Three had built an exact replica of Discord’s statue and replaced it… “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I said.

Her voice was shrill and panicked. “Yeah, that’s really what happened.”

“Thank you, Miss Pie. No need to shout.” He paused and looked at his notes on the prosecutor's bench. “Is it not true zat recently you went through ze ordeal of nearly losing a good friend?”

Pinkie hesitated. “Yes, my friend Rainbow Dash almost died.”

“And ’ow would you ’ave felt if she died?”

“Well, I would have felt really bad, but she didn’t-”

The sly attorney knew he could not let her finish and quickly continued. “Thank you Miss Pie. Is it not true zat whenever a new pony comes into Ponyville, you take it upon yourself to ensure zat zey are ’appy?”

Pinkie did not see the aim of this question and perked up for a moment. “Yes, I always want people to be happy.”

“And is it not true zat you failed multiple times in making ze victim ’appy?”

“…Uh, yes.”

“Thus would it be too much of a stretch for me to say zat you became frustrated with zis pony?”

“That’s… I don’t think… I…”

I was staring her attorney down. “Are you going to do something today?” I asked without expecting an answer.

Finally the slow lawyer stood up. “Objection your honor! The defendant has a right not to incriminate herself.”

“Thank Celestia, he does have a brain.” I thought. The mayor, who was presiding as a judge over the trial would surely not let her answer that question. But unimaginably, the Terrible Three were in the courtroom unseen. Like a snake, Fear whispered words into her ear. “Curse them!” I thought. “They have the power of inception as well? This is pure folly!”

Yet fairness is a scarce found concept in the real world and thanks to Fear’s interference with the mayor’s thoughts, the judge answered, “Overruled. The court will wait for an answer.” I roared a curse.

Pinkie answered, “I don’t think that I was too frustrated.”

Although, obviously not what he was looking for, the haughty stallion smirked and said, “Your honor, I ’ave no more questions.” Truly, this was not looking well.

“Thank you, Mr. Lauponi. Mr. Lackwit, your witness.”

The young stallion approached the witness stand nervously and spoke without confidence. “Miss Pinkie, had you ever seen these creatures who you say did the murder before?”

“Yes, I saw one of them about a month ago along with the whole town.”

“So the whole town was witness to the existence of at least one of these murderers?”

“Yes.”

“Can you remember any one in particular who saw this?”

A twinkle of hope glittered in Pinkie’s eye. “Oh yeah, I remember that she made little Breezy Sky cry.”

The lawyer looked to the judge. “With that, would the court please allow Miss Pie to step down from the stand and allow the defense to call Miss Sky?”

The mayor approved, and the little earth filly climbed up into the witness stand. A large stallion in bronze armor approached and swore in the filly under oath. Then, Pinkie’s attorney asked, “Miss Sky, did you see the female creature that was described by Pinkie Pie?”

The little filly answered confidently, “Yes Sir.”

“And would you say that along with you, most if not the entire town saw her?”

“Yes Sir.”

Mr. Lackwit looked to the mayor again. “Your honor, I have no further questions.”

The mayor asked, “Does the prosecution wish to question the witness?”

“Yes your honor.” The charlatan approached the filly. He spoke perhaps a little harsher than he should have to a foal. “Miss Sky, I ’ave spoken with your parents and zey say zat you ’ave had a record of nightmares. Is zat true?”

The poor thing probably felt very intimated. Her voice shook as she said, “Yes Sir.”

“And ’ave you ever claimed to ’ave an imaginary friend?”

She looked down. “Yes Sir.” A low blow for a public setting.

“Do you zink that it is possible that you could ’ave imagined this?”

“…Well, Sir then whole town-”

“I’m not asking about ze townsponies. I am asking about you. Do you zink it is possible zat zis recollection could ’ave been one of your nightmares and zis creature a figment of your imagination?”

“No Sir.”

“Why not?”

“I remember it too well.”

“Do you not remember what you dreamt of last night?”

“Well, I do.”

“If I asked you, could you describe it to me?”

The filly was now appearing very uneasy. “…maybe.”

“So, are you saying zat because you zink that you remember what could ’ave been a dream well, zat makes it reality?”

“Um… yes.”

“Would you say zat is good logic Miss Sky?” There was a long silence. “Miss Sky…”

“No.”

Once more, he smiled. “I ’ave no further questions your honor.”

Like Breezy Sky, several other witnesses of Fear’s appearance were brought to the stand. They were so sure of what they saw. Yet that trickster was able to make each of them believe what they saw was an apparition of a mass hallucination. Imagine that! An entire town full of ponies who each had the same illusion; how preposterous. Yet he spoke so convincingly and with such substantial assuredness that what they saw was fake. He twisted the facts well and pointed triumphantly to other obscure cases which he said resembled this one. In the end, he made them all doubt, and no one truly believed that they saw Fear.

The mayor turned to the green stallion. “Mr. Lackwit, have you any more witnesses?”

“Your honor I call Rainbow Dash.” Rainbow Dash, hearing this, stood up in the back of the courtroom and approached the witness stand. She was then sworn in. “Miss Rainbow, how would you describe your relationship with Pinkie Pie?”

Rainbow Dash looked like she was not mentally present. Her face showed that she had recently been crying and tried to cover it up. Her visage was sullen and she looked grim. When she spoke, her voice was low and humble. “She’s my best friend.”

“And have you ever known her to do anything like what she has been accused of?”

“Never.”

“And how would you say that she treated every new pony that came into Ponyville looking depressed, as the victim clearly was?”

“She always treated them great. Like they’d been friends forever.”

“Can you think of any reason that Pinkie Pie would do anything like this?”

“No.”

“Thank you Miss Rainbow. No more questions.”

When prompted, Francis loomed to work his art. “Miss Dash, ’as the defendant ever done anything zat seemed out of ze ordinary, aside from ’er generally ecstatic personality?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

He smiled. “Please tell the court, do you recall the defendant’s reaction to ze events surrounding ’er last birthday. I believe zat you were witness to zis?”

She blushed. “Oh … that. Yeah, she may have done something a little out of the ordinary then.”

It was visible that he was controlling an urge to smile. “Could you please describe to ze court what she did, Miss Dash?”

She hesitated and her voice broke when she finally answered. “She had a party with a lot of things that she acted like were her friends.”

“What sort of zings?”

She breathed heavily before saying, “Things like a pile of rocks.”

“So would you say zat assuming a pile of rocks to be animate would be classified as insanity?”

She clearly did not want to answer the question. I could see that she was starting to tear up. “Yes.”

“Last question: Being the best friend of ze defendant, in your opinion, do you believe zat she was responsible for the murder of Mr. Britten Lauponi?”

That should have been no difficult question for the bearer of the Element of Loyalty, but the situation made it difficult. The evidence was stacked so much against Pinkie, I do not blame the blue pegasus when she finally burst into weeping and through sobs, answered, “Yes.”

“Your honor, I believe that the witness should be dismissed.”

The mayor spoke, “Indeed, Miss Dash,” but Rainbow had already rose and bolted out of the courtroom. After this, the situation only worsened. Fluttershy and Applejack were likewise called to testify, and though they spoke well of Pinkie the best that they could given what questions they were asked, the manipulator had both of them disown their friend. One by one I watched each of them fall to the might of Discord who was laughing hysterically. In my day I associated with a lot of ponies who did not approve of stallions shedding tears. It was not considered masculine among them. But my heart broke when I heard the two say that they believed their friend had done something so heinous.

Fear called out, “You have done well Discord. You have managed to turn even the greatest of friends against one another. When our enemy has been vanquished, we will feast for seven years on account of your deeds alone.”

Discord responded, “All in a day’s work. Let’s just hurry and finish this boring case. I enjoy the end not the means.”

In the end, Twilight was called to the stand and sworn in. I wanted to cover my ears at this point. I wanted to go back to my home in the west and live out the rest of my days not thinking about the unfair judgment of a good pony. Yet I still forced myself to watch. I would never be able to forgive myself if I forsook Pinkie like this now. So Twilight was questioned by Mr. Lackwit and gave good testimony based upon his questions. Likewise, she was forced to testify against her friend, being compelled by the clever lawyer. Yet in the end, when she was asked whether or not she believed that Pinkie had done the act, she answered strongly, “No.”

I was greatly surprised as was he. Additionally, Fear, who seemed never to be surprised, said audibly, “This was not to be expected.”

“Why not?” The word-weaver asked. “You surely do not believe in zis idea of these reappearing and disappearing assassins do you?”

“I trust in my friend.”

“But to trust zis type of logic is madness.” There was a pause. I sighed. Of course the defense did not object. Inexperience will be the death of us all.

Yet during this pause, Twilight was preparing a speech. In a short, few seconds, she was ready. I did not see it coming and was awestruck by it. Her words did not flow from her mouth like those of a mortal. They were ordered in such a way that revealed both knowledge and wisdom that would take anypony else centuries to obtain. She answered, “I do not know for sure about these things. I did not see them, because I was in Canterlot at the time. But there is one thing that I do know for sure. My friend, Pinkie Pie, would never do anything of this sort.”

She spoke this sentence with such intensity that the tension could suddenly be cut with a knife. Fear spoke an elongated “Ah,” and said, “Though we foresaw this possibility, I did not expect it to occur. So it appears that the mare may be granted her life. And if that is so, Suffering, you may be in for quite a treat. Effectively, you will have your cake and eat it too.”

While Fear was commenting, Twilight continued. “I can speak of this as much as any other pony. Because although I was not a depressed mare like the many who now owe all their success and joyfulness to Pinkie, I was one who resisted all her attempts to befriend me. Yet she was determined. She knew that even though I was not suffering as they were, I was denying myself one of the greatest joys that anyone could ever experience: the joy of friendship. I had done nothing for her. She had no reason to help me out of the silent comfort of the grave which I dug for myself. And when she tried to help me out of it, I resisted. But she persisted until I knelt before her assiduousness. And then I was able to see what she was truly trying to show me: the light which was so much more beautiful than the darkness to which I was so accustomed.

“The truth of my claim is evident in every aspect of her life. She has given all she had to achieve the one goal of making everypony in Ponyville joyful. I have not known her as long as others in Ponyville who have been with her since her coming, but I have known her long enough to know that she loves all of us with an unimaginable passion. She shows her love in this: She has suffered much more than anyone should on our behalf. She has spent all she had in order to make us joyful and she is now living on charity. But her dedication to this by no means is limited to monetary sacrifices. She has no life other than to achieve the goal of loving us and making us joyful. She has even on several occasions pursued this endeavor so vigorously that she neglected eating and sleeping, despite the concern of her friends. This is what I cannot understand. Because while it would be easily understandable if she suffered on behalf of a good pony who did much good for her, this is not the case. Rather, she suffered for all of us despite that we resisted her gifts and friendship.

“You also hold against her the reaction she had during her previous birthday. She tried to make new friends for herself when she thought that all of her real friends had abandoned her. You look upon this and see madness, but I see something wholly different. While you believe that this is the business of a madpony, I believe that this only enhances her character. Her purpose, the reason that she has to exist, is to make others happy, and when she thought that mission was a failure, she became depressed. Can you imagine the kind of suffering you would endure if that which made your whole life worthwhile was stripped from you? This does not show insanity, but instead it shows dedication to an ideal. Having no reason to live is the same as being dead. Any normal pony would have committed suicide, but there she was, trying to fulfill that seemingly hopeless goal in her own way.

“Thus, with that rebuttal, again I say it: I cannot seem to understand it. It does not make sense. She has no visible motive for doing what she does, yet she does so anyway. My only guess is that there is something she sees that we do not see; something that she realizes that we cannot realize that drives her towards this awesome altruism. She claims that just the sight of her friends smiling gives her the greatest and most lasting joy. And I believe this to be completely true. But I also believe that she endures for another reason. In addition to the absolute joy which she receives in seeing other ponies feel the same joy that she feels, I believe that her passion can be attributed to her pursuing a prize; a prize that most ponies cannot see.

“I do not know either what that prize is, but whatever it is, I think I can speak for everyone in this courtroom when I say that we wish we all could have it. It is for that reason that I cannot bring myself to the belief that my friend committed such an act. It would go against her very nature and her life’s mission. It does not logically make any sense that someone who so relentlessly follows such a life would do something like this which so drastically contrasts with all of her previous actions. For that indisputable reason, I cannot disown my friend who loves me.”

The whole courtroom was silenced. For about twenty seconds, not a sound could be heard. Finally, Mr. Lauponi said with mock confidence, “Your honor, I ’ave no more questions.”

The mayor took a moment to realize that she needed to respond. “Oh, right. Ah, Miss Sparkle, you may step down. Mr. Lackwit, do you have anything more?”

The defense attorney likewise did not respond until a moment later. “Uh, your honor, the defense rests.”

The two lawyers then gave their closing statements and the judge and jury departed for the moment. For two hours there was absolute silence. Even Discord, who could rarely keep still for more than five minutes, was quietly awaiting the verdict. No one even moved. No pony left to eat lunch, but they all sat in their seats and awaited the return of the thirteen. The seconds passed by like minutes. I gazed penetratingly at the clock, and the second hand seemed to be so much slower than it always moved. This was the day which I had been waiting to see. This was the moment that The Terrible Three had planned for since they heard rumors of Pinkie Pie’s influence. It had barely been two years since she came to Ponyville, but it seemed like so long ago. Each day that she spent in the place was better than thousands anywhere else on the planet.

I thought back to Twilight’s speech. It was the worst and only blunder that the prosecution had made. I clung to that, forgetting all else that had happened. Surely her testimony would be sufficient. A faint gleam of light appeared. Surely she had evoked ethos, pathos, and logos in such a way that it overshadowed the deceiver. I had never heard her speak like this before. Perhaps this was an action of one of the Fates. Perhaps fortune had smiled upon Pinkie and made it so that no one could overcome the authority of the spirit with which Twilight spoke. Perhaps heaven had decided to do away with the unfairness that was placed on Pinkie and stand in her defense. Thus, as the judge and jury reentered, I had a hope.

When all were seated, Mayor Mare asked, “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

“We have your honor.”

The titanic bailiff grasped the paper which held Pinkie’s fate and placed it open on the desk of the judge. “Pinkie Pie, please rise.” The mare stepped from her chair and faced gazed at the judge. The mayor read slowly, “Of the charge of murder, being the unlawful killing of a pony by another pony with malice aforethought, we the jury find the defendant, Pinkie Pie, not guilty.”

I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. It was like a weight had lifted from my shoulders. She was going to be alright, I thought. Yet when I looked to The Terrible Three, expecting an uproar or awestruck faces, they were not at all fazed.

The judge continued, “On the charge of ponyslaughter, by the mitigating circumstance of schizophrenia, we the jury, find the defendant, guilty as charged.”

It hit me like a freight train. The deceiver had done it. Despite everything that Twilight had said, Pinkie was pronounced legally insane and guilty of killing an innocent. Hearing this, Discord laughed sadistically and Fear and Suffering roared triumphant shouts. The world was suddenly spinning and I was not sure if I could trust my senses. Was I hearing everything right?

“Have you anything to say, Pinkie Pie?”

The pony did not answer for a moment. Finally, she said, “If I am innocent, I don’t blame any of you.”

The voice of the mayor rose and nearly echoed through the courthouse. “Pinkie Pie, you have been deemed a hazard to yourself and society by your actions; convicted of ponyslaughter and pronounced insane. By the power vested in me by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, the monarchs of Equestria, I have the right to sentence you to death by lethal injection. But because of your past record of philanthropy, I hereby sentence you to a life in the Royal Equestrian Mental Institution of Canterlot.”

The sound of the gavel echoed through the courthouse.

The Endgame: Tribulations

I suppose if I wasn’t about to lose consciousness and was in an objective mood, I would have remarked on how it was odd that a mental clinic doubled as a prison, but that was not the case. I would have passed out if I was not so shocked by the stentorian shouts of Fear and Suffering and the resounding ricochet of Discord’s merriment off my ears. Quickly, two of the massive pegasus guards rushed to Pinkie Pie and lifted her off her hooves. Then they spirited her away from the courtroom, which was silent as far as the mortal ponies knew. The Terrible Three gloated in the form of impromptu epic poetry inaudible to mortal ears.

So they placed her in shackles and drove her by carriage to a place above Canterlot. Like the city of Cloudsdale, the Equestrian Mental Institution, or the EMI, sat in the clouds. It was a huge castle with an outer wall that reached to a height of some three hundred feet. Its walls stretched so that its perimeter was two miles in length. Its thickness, made from many layers of steel and iron and stone was eighty feet thick. Construction began on the fortress in the year nine hundred and forty A.B. and lasted until seven hundred and sixty three A.B. (The abbreviation A.B. of course meaning “Ante Bellum” or “before [Nightmare Moon’s] war” for those who are unfamiliar with the study of Equestrian history) Originally, it was meant to defend the capital against an aerial attack from the griffons, but no such attack ever came. However, in nine A.B. when Nightmare Moon began the great war against Princess Celestia, it became the most fought over fortification in all the war.

As The Histories will tell you, three whole years of the war were spent on Princess Luna’s siege of the stronghold. In the third year, Nightmare Moon finally mustered a force of seventy thousand fierce pegasus ponies and launched an airborne assault against the citadel. I, myself fought for Celestia in that battle and regret to say that I took many lives. The first assault began on the morning of the twenty fifth day of the twelfth month and lasted until the night, whereupon the enemy’s forces were forced to withdraw. The battle continued on like this for six more days, and on the dawn of the seventh day -when Princess Celestia was caught off guard; having to raise the sun- Nightmare Moon finally captured the walls and took the fort. On that day, even Princess Celestia herself was wounded and forced to flee before she was captured and the war lost. I surrendered along with two hundred of the original three thousand charged with guarding the fort. Today, that battle is called “The Battle of Fort Necrodie,” because it was bloodiest of battle in Equestrian history. I remained the prisoner of the enemy until the dawn of the tenth year of the war, when Princess Celestia could not bear to throw any more ponies into the fray, and used the Elements of Harmony to banish her sister forever in the moon.

After the war, the fortress continued to guard the capital for another two hundred years; seeing nothing unusual. Then, as The Histories will tell you, in two hundred and seven P.B. (this abbreviation means Post Bellum or “after the war.” I suppose I should at last mention that B.L. means “Before Luna,” and refers to the time before Celestia and Luna usurped Discord. I believe that I failed to mention that in my first chapter when making a reference to the fighting power of the unicorns in the war of five hundred B.L.), Princess Celestia issued the legendary Edict of Peace which effectively ended any future possibility of war in the eastern part of the planet. To this day, there has not been a war since the final defeat of the diamond dogs in early two hundred and seven P.B. With the abolishment of the war, the princess ordered a massive renovation of the fortress and turned it into a maximum-security prison, which housed the most vicious criminals of all time until eighteen hundred and sixty four P.B. when the violent crime rate in Equestria had dropped so low that it was no longer necessary for such a facility.

It was about this time that a great deal of research in the field of psychology was being done. Though it had been mocked endlessly by scientists and magicians alike as a fruitless and unofficial field of medicine, a stallion by the name of Viktor Kasparov (who would become the great-great-great grandfather of the bearer of the Element of Generosity), was able to present the results of his research to the Royal Scientific Society at Canterlot, and cemented psychology as a respected field of medical science in Equestria. Under his support, the useless prison was transformed into a mental health clinic in eighteen hundred and eighty five P.B.

Now Kasparov had come from a long line of wealthy mages and was deeply rooted in the arts. He established a secret order of mages called the Knights in the Service of the Moon who trained to form the most elite, handpicked magi that the world had ever seen. Under his guidance they researched many ways to deal with psychological disorders. Though he was a kind pony who had only his patients’ best interests in mind, his successor by no means had the same goals. Kasparov died and a new leader came to command the Knights named Mauve Brilliance. Now Kasparov, coming from a line of mages, was very adamant on compromising the two fields of science and magic. Yet his desire to help ponies was greater than that and in his life he only had time to fulfill the former goal. His hope to combine magic and science would be left up to Brilliance who had time to both study the arts and work as a doctor of psychology at the EMI.

Kasparov’s dream was recognized in part. He wanted to combine the two fields to help sick ponies. So, under Brillince’s guidance, the order developed the art of manipulating minds through combinations of magic and rhetoric. Even today, they control many powerful nobles in the court of the princesses. Under his leadership, they would discover only nineteen years after the foundation of the order that they could alter the content of a pony’s thoughts if they were able to break into their mind. This ability had already been discovered by the divinities millennia ago (as you may have guessed, considering that Fear was about to use that power on Breezy Sky if Pinkie had not stopped her), but they never shared this power with mortals. It was at this time that Mauve Brilliance announced that a new era (or aeon as he called it) had dawned. The previous Aeon of Osiris had passed and the Aeon of Horus had come. Thus, the early years of the Aeon of Horus truly saw revolutionary and groundbreaking advancements in the field of magic; at least for the order. Notably, they were able to develop a spell which would increase the lifespan of a pony. Today it is still being improved upon and its effects have become considerable.

Mauve Brilliance’s methods of training mages were quite Spartan, to say the least. Just to be considered, one had to pass a rigorous selection process, which nearly every mage in the kingdom was submitted to, whether or not they were aware of it. After that, he gathered up the select few: the magi of the kingdom that showed the most promise. This did not occur too often. Even among the unicorns who are the only eastern race capable of using magic, “gifted magi” - that is to say, those who can use magic beyond the standard of levitating objects heavier than a thimble and thread – are hard to find. But he did not lower the bar. About every six years, he finally had gathered enough to hold what he called a tournament.

The Knights in Service of the Moon found these gifted magi and kidnapped them; spiriting them away to a system of chambers under the Equestrian Mental Institution which was the order’s headquarters. Essentially, the tournament that they participated in was a magician’s fight to the death. Kill or be killed. Each time about six died and one was chosen among them. That mage was the elite of the elite, the best adolescent that Equestria had to offer in raw magical talent. Yet in the words of our beloved princess of the sun, a mage must “learn to tame [their raw] abilities through focused study.” However, unlike Twilight Sparkle who was nurtured and loved by Princess Celestia, Brilliance did everything short of torturing his students. On a regular basis, he put them through life-threatening situations, forced them to perform immoral acts, and made them forsake everything they held dear.

After they had been weakened; confused and traumatized by the deeds which they had performed, Brilliance used his skill to break into their minds and “break” them. He reformatted the way that they perceived and encoded information. One whose mind is broken often becomes a new person. The process of breaking a mind involves tampering and often eliminating a majority of memories and implanting new experiences into the victim. For that victim, the process can be likened to taking a fish out of the water and telling it that it will not receive any more water until it learns to enjoy the air. The victim is often rendered senseless for a good amount of time, and recovery usually lasts a few months to a year.

After doing this, Brilliance then rigorously trained them in the dark arts; forcing them to study for most of the day and practice through most of the night. Unfortunately, this practice often required “practice dummies” as Brilliance called them. These dummies were the patients admitted to the EMI. Finally, after many years of physical abuse and hard training (provided that they survived. He occasionally pushed them too hard), Brilliance admitted his student into the order. This practice of training elite magi continues to this day. Brilliance eventually was elected arch-mage by the royal council of magi in nineteen fifty seven P.B. and secretly defrauded many in order to fund the goals of the Knights in Service of the Moon.

At the age of one hundred and twenty seven, Mauve Brilliance saw that his death was coming and he looked among the Knights for a successor. When it became obvious that he was doing this, it nearly caused a schism and there was fighting amongst the members of the order for two years. In the end, they chose a young unicorn who excelled greatly among her peers. Because she was only nineteen, the elder Knights (who are called the black sages) believed that they could use her like a puppet. When Brilliance finally passed on his knowledge and goals to his successor, Amethyst Star, in 2010 P.B. – the very same year which Nightmare Moon returned – Brilliance shrouded her and himself in a secret inner sanctum, directly under the center of the EMI. Unfortunately, the spells he put around this room prevented me from eavesdropping so I am unaware of the truth of his intentions. Whatever secrets he gave her made her very powerful indeed and the black sages found they could not control her.

With Brilliance’s knowledge (I hesitate to call it wisdom because of how twisted the stallion was) she formed many awesome spells and enchantments which established her as the greatest of mages in the order. Yet unlike her predecessor, she was a little more subtle about showing off in public and never gained the title of arch mage – of course that was only part of her failure. She would be defeated in a duel by Twilight Sparkle in 2035 P.B.- Amethyst’s greatest achievement would be becoming the headmistress of Princess Celestia’s Academy for gifted Unicorns. I should note that Pinkie Pie was convicted of ponyslaughter in 2014 and placed under the care of Dr. Amethyst Star, caretaker of the EMI. This is an account of the events surrounding the Equestrian Mental Institution that concern this tale of Pinkie Pie.

Although for the duration of this tale, I have been writing solely about what I have seen and heard, for the purposes of your understanding, henceforth, I will be speaking with omniscience concerning the thoughts and feelings of those in this story. Rest assured, I have made neither assumptions nor guesses about the things which I will tell you, and everything I will write here truthfully came to pass. I have done much research into the things that I witnessed and simply by telling you only what I saw at the time will not be sufficient to relate these occurrences. I must make logical inferences based upon what I know to relate to you the passion of Pinkie Pie.

♦ ♦ ♦

Darkness was all that Pinkie saw. The guards had shackled and blindfolded her. She had been travelling for two hours through the air to a place with unknown whereabouts. Every so often a gust of wind would jar the carriage and throw her against its sides roughly. The manacles were leaving marks on her forelegs and she was accumulating a few bruises. The bench that she sat on was made of unpadded and unsanded wood. It was rougher than the rocking chariot and she occasionally received a painful splinter in the rear or hip. This forced her to lie on the ground for the majority of the trip.

As she lie there with nothing to do, she thought about what it meant for these things to happen to her. After she thought over everything that had happened, she came to a conclusion. She was willing to see through her punishment. Though it was not fair, for she was innocent, it was just. Justice, though sometimes unfair, was essential and righteous for both the individual and the society. Hitherto she had done nothing wrong and for her to try to escape would be to break the law. Thus escape was brushed out of her thoughts.

This was not to say that she was not afraid. A mental institution sounded different than a jail. she was unfamiliar with what went on inside of them. Unfortunately for her, this was worse than if she knew what troubles were to befall her; for the mind is the greatest weapon. Ponies will never create a sword or spear which could ever compare to the damage that the mind can do. This is because the soul has an infinite capacity for imagination: to create possible worlds where innumerable events may occur.

The mind is like a double sided sword. It can be used against one’s enemies or against oneself. The imagination can be used to invent a machine which will reduce the workload of a nation by fifty percent, but it can also be used to destroy a pony. This is because the soul houses the spirit. Now the spirit is the part of a pony which can comprehend higher morality, but it is also the very being of a pony. The spirit is that part of a pony which makes that pony who she truly is. The body and mind can be altered, but pony can remain the same. Yet if the spirit is reformed, the pony becomes a new person; completely different than the one before. The mind, using imagination, can create terrifying fantasies (which seem absolutely logical to the imaginer) to which no torture could ever compare. These fantasies have the power to alter the soul if they persist too long. Now there are many ways to kill a pony: flesh burns, bones break, but to break a pony’s spirit is to truly destroy her.

So Fear was with Pinkie. The pink pony did not know, but she was using the power of inception: slowly and subtly weaving ideas into her head. “What if they do this to you? Oh, that would be awful! What if they put you in a place like that? Ooh, don’t even think about that.”

Pinkie, accepting the creations of Fear as her own conceptions, was destroying herself from the inside in a way that no pony ever could. The two hours passed by like years. Each second brought her closer to those agonizing impossibilities which she thought that she could be subjected.

After this eternity had passed, she felt the carriage bounce up and down as it landed on the cloud. A second later, she heard the door open. Suddenly, she was heaved out of the car and landed on the soft surface of the clouds. As they dragged her along the forgiving soft surface by the color around her neck, one of the guards said to her unkindly, “Don’t get used to this cloud.” He gave a laugh. They stopped at the entrance and mashed some numbers on a keypad.

One of the guards roughly grasped her blindfold and ripped if off. Before she was blinded by the sunlight, she glimpsed the massive fortress that was the EMI. Then she shut her eyes. The stallion on the left grasped her eyelids and pried them open. In spite of her eyes not having time to adjust, he forced her to face the sun and its agonizing brightness. “Get a good look, b----. This is the last time you’ll ever see it.” He paused for a moment and ignored her protests and attempts to look away. “Time’s up.” He thrust the blindfold back over her eyes.

The large iron gates opened up with a creak that shook the foundation. As she passed through them, she immediately felt the temperature drop to a very cold temperature. The gates closed behind her again. While there was a breeze outside, there was an eerie silence within the EMI’s confines. Every now and then, Pinkie thought she heard the faint sound of a muffled shriek or somepony begging or pleading for something to cease, but maybe it was just her imagination. Her escorts stopped and opened a door to the right. Then they drug her inside.

She heard the burly guard on her left say, “Well, Karon, she’s all yours.”

A chilling female voice answered, “Thank you gentlecolts. You are dismissed.” She heard the two walk out and the door shut.”

When there was a moment of silence, Pinkie was about to say something, yet before she could. Her blindfold was taken off just in time to see a two inch needle pierce her flank just beside her cutie mark. She flinched and squealed in shock and pain. “Ah! What did you do that for?” She looked up and saw the administrator.

The unicorn looked as though she were only in her mid-twenties, but one could see her and tell that she was far older than that. She had a pale coat and a white mane. One could not discern the color of her eyes, but they glowed like fire. Her features belonged to those of a young mare, yet her countenance displayed a mental weariness that one did not see except for in old ponies. Her horn glowed with a black aura which explained how she was holding the syringe.

Pinkie felt a strange sensation creep up her body from her flank. It was then that the unicorn answered. “That was a muscle relaxer.” She dropped the syringe with her magic into a biohazard waste bin. “I find that it is a bit more calming for you to be limp than restrained by fetters.” Saying this, she used her magic to open the locks binding her and remove the chains.

There was a hint of kindness in the unicorn’s voice. Yet the feeling which had crept up her body was anything but calming. She could feel every part of her body normally, but when she tried to move anything below her neck, nothing responded. This feeling of not being able to move was alarming to say the least. She stifled another gasp as the unicorn levitated her into a chair inside the dimly lit room. Now slumped into a very uncomfortable sitting position that was more suited for bipeds, she tried again to move, but none of her obeyed her will.

She looked forward and saw a large mirror. She examined the reflections but saw nothing except for a dimly lit room made of stone. To her left, the other pony retrieved a small cart with an assortment of barber’s tools.

The unicorn of indiscernible age said, “My name is Acheron. It is my duty to prepare you for your treatment here at the Equestrian Mental Institution. Now I see no point in explaining this to an insane pony, but we cannot have you strangling yourself, so first off, you mane must be shaved.”

Saying this, she grasped an electric shaver and clicked in on. The buzzing sound brought to life the reality of what was about to happen. Now Pinkie was not like Rarity. She did not fuss over every unappealing aesthetic. But the idea of losing, not some, but all of her hair was certainly not as trivial as having a few split ends. “Wait. Please, don’t… you don’t have to.”

“Ah, but I do Miss Pinkamena. We follow strict guidelines here.” She placed the buzzing tool at the base of her mane. “And those guidelines will be followed whether they please you or not.” The unkind instrument’s sound changed as it began to bald her.

“Please, stop. I wouldn’t do anything like that!” The stern unicorn did not respond after this. Despite Pinkie’s frantic pleading for mercy, she was not going to receive any. Pinkie desperately tried to thrash, but nothing moved. Her head was held still by a powerful force of magic which was like two iron bars on the sides of her face. Unforgivingly, the buzzing continued up her head. Soon she felt her locks fall on her sides.

Within a few moments, she began to sob and tears welled up in her eyes. She felt a sting of embarrassment as the salty waters seeped from her eyes in front of a near-total stranger. She tried to hold them back, but when she saw another lock of hair fall, she stopped bothering and cried. Her weeping first consisted of light sobs, but it soon turned into a loud wailing with tears freely streaming down her cheeks.

As her oppressor began to complete her task, she said, “As you can see, resignation is your only option here. You would do well to remember that. It will make the rest of your days much easier. Ah, but here I am giving advice to a person who legally should not be able to understand logic.”

With that, she finished. Stepping into the darkness of the back of the room she said, “Well, I think after that display of foalishness, I should muzzle you. I don’t want you screaming until your vocal cords give out later. She returned into the light holding a black muzzle cover with a strap at the back.

Seeing this, Pinkie protested loudly again, “Wait, that’s not-”

In one quick motion, her mouth was forcefully shut by a tendril of magic, the muzzle cover was thrust over her mouth, and the strap was secured around her the back of her head and tightened for snugness.

“There; at least, now we can both have some relative quiet.” This was hardly the case. Pinkie still made noises through the gag, though they were unintelligible. She disappeared into the darkness again and this time brought out a white article of clothing. Once she unfolded it, the article clearly was a straitjacket. When Pinkie uttered more muffled protests, she said, “What? Surely you saw this coming.”

With that, Pinkie said farewell to any more hopes for a comfortable position. Her forelegs were thrust into the holes of the jacket and fastened so that they were crisscrossed about her front. The unfeeling unicorn then brought Pinkie to the ground on her right side and admired her handiwork. I too forced myself to examine her. It was a pitiful sight: a maneless, weeping earth pony scared and tormented.

The pale pony then looked up and appeared as if she remembered something. She walked into the back of the room once more. Pinkie looked up and squinted to discover if she could see anything. What more could she do to her? What other agonies did she have to suffer? As she gazed into the darkness, her eyes finally adjusted and she saw what looked like a faint red ember in the corner of the room. She looked more intently and she saw the figure of the pony.

The white-maned pony then returned with an iron rod whose tip was burning red. The unicorn looked at the iron and then gazed at her again. She opened her mouth and began a short lecture. “The cutie mark is a symbol of identity. When one acquires it, a pony becomes distinguished among her peers. It is what defines her and makes her distinct. Yet it is also a symbol of purpose. Your cutie mark in particular must symbolize that you love to enjoy parties or something to that effect. While mine…” The mare turned to her side. Her cutie mark resembled a river. Yet the river was on fire. “…symbolizes a goal which is quite different. At the Equestrian Mental Institution, all the patients have no purpose but to become well. And until such a time, they have no identity.” She smirked. “Therefore, it’s time for your cutie mark to go bye-bye.”

I had been bucked by a strong earth pony once before. I knew what it mean to feel the shock of being hit with something strong. But this was something else. “She wouldn’t dare.” I said aloud. “You wouldn’t dare!”

A horrified look crossed Pinkie’s face. The d--- unicorn was going to blot out her cutie mark with a hot iron, and there was nothing Pinkie could do to stop it. She screamed loudly and thrashed her head side to side. She desperately tried to get her back legs to move. Maybe she would be lucky and the muscle relaxer would soon ware off. She had to do something … anything to flee from the red-hot iron.

As she began to panic, the pale unicorn smiled with a grin. “I told you that resignation is your only option. Just for squirming I think I might hold it down longer than necessary.” With her saying this, the rod descended upon Pinkie.

I yelled once more. This was not happening. I could not watch this. I had to flee. I had to go as far away from this as I could …

Once more I told myself that I was not the one suffering. “I must not abandon her, even if I cannot help her.” I said. I fixed my gaze upon the ungodly scene with stoic eyes and a stone face. I cannot say which was more horrible: the sound of Pinkie screaming louder than any noise she had ever made, or the sound of her sizzling flesh.

Pinkie fainted after her second cutie mark was blotted out. She awoke later in a dark room. The straitjacket and muzzle still bound her, but at least now she could move her lower body. She examined her surroundings. With her eyes now fully adjusted to the near-absolute darkness, she found that she was in a cell made out of granite. In front of her was a steel door. What she did not know was that five other doors each made of reinforced steel were also between her and the dimly lit hallway. She felt around on her left and discovered a dome-like depression in the floor with a hole in its center. She realized then that this was the drain that she would use to relieve herself. She flopped over to the door. In the process, she groveled upon the ground and scraped her burning flank which made her first yelp in surprise. Then she endured the pain and reached the entrance. She found that there was a small panel in the lower half of the door that would slide out from the other side. That was it. Her inspection of everything about her confines was complete.

Not having the sun or moon, or any light at all to tell her what time of day it was made her uneasy. As immeasurable time passed, she lay in a corner and thought of nothing in particular. Yet eventually the thoughts of recent events returned to her and a fresh torrent of tears readied itself for release. But then she paused. Her crinkled eyes opened up and shifted from her right to left side a few times.

She began to think to herself. “What am I doing? I can’t let all this get me down. I get to decide what makes me joyful. Hey, I’m still alive! I didn’t get a death sentence like most ponies would. And justice is being served. What have I to be sad about? Ooh, I get to look forward to my mane will growing back too.”

Suffering stood in the cell with her. She shouted and tried to place miserable thoughts in her head. “What? No, you should be depressed. Your purpose was ripped from you. You have been unfairly judged. You are going to die in an asylum! Be despondent foolish mare.”

But Pinkie brushed away the thoughts that were conceiving seemingly of their own accord. After she began to count her blessings, she hummed a random tune. Soon she was composing a song inside her head; a fanciful and happy tune, which was so full of life.

Suffering shouted once more. “What is this folly? Does this mare have no reason? Fear, enter hither and see the madness of our enemy.”

Thus Fear entered through the walls of the cell and stood alongside Suffering. “Be without fear, my leader.” The black alicorn said. “Do not assume that our opponent will be joyful for so long. The agony of time will consume her. Loneliness will drive her to true madness and create a monster of bitterness out of this mare. And that’s just the first few weeks. There's a special surprise afterwards.” She addressed the third being not yet present. “Discord, enter hither and see the misery of our opponent.”

Discord appeared, not with a flash as he did when visible to mortals, but likewise through the walls of the compartment. Seeing Pinkie, bound and muzzled, he exclaimed, “Ah, so here is the great enemy which you both complained so much about. Well how about now? Looks like we win again. There was never any doubt in my mind, but you two constantly worried about it. Harmony can only exist for so long before I come in and break everything up again. Now if only we could take care of Celestia we’d be set for life.”

Pinkie Pie continued to hum her happy tune in spike of her miserable situation. Discord gasped and after a moment asked, “Why is she doing that?”

Suffering answered, “I must confess that I have not been altogether successful in my department.”

He fidgeted. “Well can’t you do something about it? I mean it’s crazy that she’s doing that and not crying her eyes out like anypony else would.”

Fear answered, “Patience Discord. Suffering’s powers are great and omnipotent, yet their effects are not instant. We will watch and wait and see with glee the pain of the situation overtake her.”

So the time passed by; Pinkie having no power gauge its length. However, she did not become discouraged. She knew that joy is not an emotion but an active choice. Yet she was all the company she had, and soon she became very lonely. She did not allow herself to feel unhappy, though as the time passed it became increasingly more difficult. And then there was the subject of her homeostasis. She had no clue how long it had been but she knew it had been more than a couple of days and she felt extremely hungry. She wanted badly to be able to yell to see if she could receive so much as a few blades of grass or a dying daisy. Yet the muzzle prevented her from making any more than moans of discomfort. Nor was her rumbling stomach any consolation to her condition.

More time flew by and she started to feel very week. While occasionally, she used to move about her cell, which would cheer her up, she now only lay in the corner to conserve what little energy she had left. At one time, she woke up and found that she had an IV running into her leg. Seeing this, she would have exploded with joy if she had the strength. At least they would not let her die of dehydration. Of course, it did not help with the hunger, and she noticed she was starting to become quite thin. Yet still she did her best to remain in good humor.

♦ ♦ ♦

In truth, Pinkie had been imprisoned in the EMI for a month without food and with Suffering trying her best to conquer her. Though Suffering she was making progress, it was minimal. Discord, as usual, was of no help and was off in Canterlot organizing some kind of scandal which brought him glee. It was about this time that Suffering cried out. “My patience wears thin. How long must I suffer this?”

Fear appeared alongside of her. “Peace, Suffering, look now. Your efforts are about to bear fruit by helping me succeed; for without your exertion I would fail.”

Suffering looked curious. “Fail at what?”

In answer, there was a sound heard within the hallway that contained Pinkie’s cell. The sound of doors opening echoed through the corridor that had remained silent like death since Pinkie’s imprisonment. Down it walked two burly guards. They arrived at Pinkie’s confine and pressed in numbers on a keypad next to the first door to unlock the six barriers. They stepped into the darkness and found Pinkie in a corner.

“Get up, foal. It’s time for your treatment.” One said cruelly. This was a sadist’s command because there was no way that Pinkie would be able to stand normally, weakened as she was; much less on two legs. “Alright, Moloch, guess we have to carry the crazy filly.”

The other guard nodded in agreement and they grabbed her by her back legs and drug her out of the cell; her face scraping against the rough granite. Down the twisting hallways Pinkie was dragged. She seemed to pass the same corridor multiple times as each one seemed to have the same number of doors and the same monotonous surroundings. She quickly lost her sense of direction in the labyrinth. They came to a series of steps and dragged her down those. She turned her face to the side, but her temple and cheeks were still struck by the hard, iron stairs; giving her many bruises. When she made muffled protests, she was again ignored. Nor were the steps a fleeting tribulation. They went down flight after flight. Pinkie tried to count them but the pain made her lose count at twenty.

Finally, they came to the bottom of the last flight and stopped. Pinkie looked behind her and saw a pair of large double doors whose exit was not colored grey like every other one that she had passed through. There were no handles on them and they appeared to be made of out a different type of material than iron; a material that was much harder. This one was colored black and had a faded, heavily stylized inscription written upon its doors in red.

I read this and at first was at a loss. I believed that I had never seen such writing before. The guards stood there for a moment as though they were unsure of what to do. So while they did nothing, I gazed intently at the text; racking my brain for any hint of what this might signify. I ventured deep into the confines of my soul; checking each chamber which contained a memory closely. Finally, I came to a series of memories which seemed to resonate with this writing. I mused over my days when I was a carnal being; divine, but like the current princesses, able to interact with the physical world.

I remembered spending a great deal of time in the royal library shortly after it reached the peak of its glory; brimming with the greatest collection of knowledge the world had ever before seen. I peered over the words of a very ancient tome which predated the war with the dragons (the most ancient documented historical event). The book I read contained the words of a secret and magical language; a language that held power seven times greater than the three commonplace magical languages combined. After I freed myself from the carnal restrictions at the age of seven hundred and eighty eight, I finally was able to learn this language. Yet its intricacy made me quickly forget it. For a mortal to understand it was unthinkable. Yet it was obvious that the inscription had been made by a mortal unicorn by the way that the words were scribed. The thought of such a thing: a mortal holding such godlike power was terrible.

Tearing my focus from such possibilities, I thought back to what the words meant. Eventually, I was able to transliterate the text letter by letter. As I read the first word, “Trans,” I breathed a tremendous sign of relief. The second word “me” confirmed my suspicions. The inscriber knew of the language, but he did not know it. Rather, the language was simply a now archaic language spoken once by ponies with which I was quite familiar. It was only that the language was transcribed using the letters of this most powerful language.

Yet as I continued to read the message, the relief that no mortal had broken the code soon dissipated; for the message itself was purely … ominous. “Trans me erit nihil sed obsequium/ Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes.” I spoke its translation aloud: “Through me, there will be nothing but submission./ Abandon all hope, you who enter.”

No later than when I spoke these words, the black doors opened inwards. And the guards dragged Pinkie Pie inside without question. They brought her into what might have been the center of the room (the only light was from the dim lamps in the hallway), dropped her there, and left. The doors, shut behind them. The room was now absolutely dark. Pinkie looked up in anticipation.

As if to answer her curiosity, nine glowing lights appeared around the room, which emanated from unicorn horns. The horn bearers themselves, however, were the objects of interest. The blue glow from their horns cast an azure filter on all of them. Each was dressed in black leather which contrasted with their ghostly white coats. Their manes were of different colors. Some of them had long lack manes and other had blond manes, and two were bald. Each of them wore an emblazoned symbol on their chests that looked like a dragon. Below the dragon on each of them were the words “Sapientes Nigri.” [The Black Sages] Three in the center of the nine were clothed in armor in addition to their leather clothes. Those also wore a necklace of a six-pointed star.

Their faces were fearsome. They stared at her, frowning in menacing silence. The one standing in the middle who had a silver mane was the most terrible. His eyes were full of contempt. As Pinkie stared into his eyes, she felt completely paralyzed. When he spoke, his voice was deeply accented as though he were from the far west where the languages sound the most harsh when spoken. “Number five this year, welcome to the outer sanctum and consider yourself fortunate. You have been deemed so ill that we moved you up the list for treatment. Since its creation, this room has been a sacred and holy place of healing. Excluding you, eight hundred and eighty seven have passed through its doors and all were healed. It has therefore remained sacred, and you will not desecrate it. Tell me then, why are you here?” A flash of his horn removed her muzzle for the time. When Pinkie did not answer, he raised his voice only slightly, but that slight increase was enough to make her jump. “Answer me, wicked mare.”

Pinkie Pie searched for an answer and said the first thing that came to mind. “Because they say I killed a pony.”

The aggressor continued in his raised tone. “No, Five, you are here because your brain is filled with thoughts that have lead you astray. We are you to provide a remedy for that.”

Pinkie was confused, “I don’t…”

The silver-maned sage’s horn triggered something and the room was lit just bright enough that Pinkie could see all the features of the room. The sanctum was circular. Around its walls were many different signs and symbols, words which she did not comprehend, and creatures of forms which she had never before seen. But the most conspicuous was a painting on another set of massive double doors in the back of the room. On them there was a gargantuan panting of a big black dragon who had many ponies begging at his feet. His jaws were held upward and in his right claw which was raised directly above his mouth, he was holding a terrified pony whom apparently he was about to devour.

Looking away from it fast, she looked for the source of light which she found was below her. On the floor, she was sitting in a great circle which had a unicursal hexagram (a type of six-pointed star similar to Twilight Sparkle's cutie mark) inscribed into it. Also within it were many symbols of different shapes which she could not understand. Also, there were several words written in the same script as on the door behind her. Yet I gasped as I realized that these words were likely genuine as I did not recognize them.

The room darkened at little again as the stallions released the magic on their horns, leaving only the light from the circle. Again the terrible unicorn in the center of the semicircle of ponies now around Pinkie spoke. “You are here to have your thoughts purified. Remember the agonies which you have faced until now: you are no one, you are hungry, you are hopelessly friendless. All of this was done in preparation to weaken your mind. But rejoice; for today is the day of your revitalization. When you leave this room, you will no longer be who you are now. They may even release you for good behavior.”

Again, Pinkie spoke, “But what are you-”

“I am aware that you do not understand my words or how we shall bring about this promise. Your mind is now in disarray. We have been charged by our mistress with the task of breaking your mind and putting it back together.”

This frightened Pinkie very much, though she still did not understand. “But I-”

The stallion screamed with a powerful voice that did not sound equine, “Enough!" Once more the speech blocking muzzle was thrust back onto her and refastened. "We begin the ceremony now. Submit quickly and it shall be complete quickly. Resist and your experience here shall be torturous beyond imagination!” As soon as Pinkie heard this, she saw the nine unicorns’ horns glow and suddenly she felt tendrils of magic stretch her out and hold her head and forelegs down on the ground. Then more magic emanated from their horns like a vapor and disappeared when it reached her head.

Suddenly, she began to hear what sounded like a symphony. There seemed to be a resounding piano and the sound of violins and several other instruments. Then she began to hear the voice of a choir. What made her very uneasy about the sound of the choir though was that she could hear nine distinct voices; one of which sounded very much like the center pony in the room. She tried to shift, but found that her body was held fast by magic. The tune itself was a very disquieting melody. It made her imagine immense black castles in lands of darkness and the terrible and awesome witch-kings that ruled in them. She no longer saw what was truly before her, but she seemed to see the things which she envisioned within her head. This melody continued on for just over a minute.

Then the unexpected introduction of a tremendously powerful pipe organ startled her. The visions which she experienced changed to a view of a great door at the end of a black hallway. Upon the door were written the words, “To Pinkie’s Soul.” For some reason, she felt like she had been in this place before and like she had opened this door many times. Yet this familiarity soon turned to dread when she listened more to the potent music in her ears. She felt a great surge of fear (both dread and terror) well up inside of her for a reason which she did not know. She wanted nothing more than to run from the door in front of her as the great music reverberated in her. She had an undeniable feeling in her gut that she should not ever pass through the door in a situation such as this. She tried to turn and run, but she found that she was still paralyzed by magic.

Then the magical force which bound her forced her to look to her left. The sight before her made her want to shriek. Right beside of her was a black alicorn, but not just any alicorn. She had met this one before. This alicorn was Fear, the goddess in whose face she once laughed. The deity placed her hoof which was cold like ice upon Pinkie’s (in this vision she had no straight jacket or muzzle. Her captors did not require such things). Then as much as she did not want her to –she really didn’t want her to- Fear forced Pinkie to place her hoof upon the knob of the door and turn it. The music was now at its loudest and most intense peak. The alicorn smiled with the most devilish and sadistic grin and forced her to open the door.

The symphony suddenly picked up to a wild speed and became jarring and cacophonous while maintaining an orderly meter. The sounds of a guitar and drums were added and the sound of the piano seemed to trickle over her like waves of glass. Simultaneously, a myriad of energies and images and thoughts and emotions and concepts and the feelings of the nine unicorns assaulted her with traumatizing force. They swept over her with unstoppable might and it felt like her entire being was being lacerated from its very core; like a thousand knives were slicing into every part of her. She heard the nine voices screeching out horrible and strange words: paradoxes, poetic lamentations and hateful cries.

On and on the feeling went and did not pass from her. She tried as hard as she could but could not scream. It was like her worst nightmares exacerbated and intensified a thousand times over were brought to life so that she could live through them. She did not know how long this went on for. Even I do not know; for I was witnessing the same distorted world that she was.

Yet after a number of eternities had passed, it all ended. Pinkie awoke from her waking dream screaming through her muzzle as loud as she could with no desire ever to stop.

All of the unicorns were out of breath and appeared exhausted. The aggressor in the middle spoke through heavy breaths. “Well, I will give it to you wretch. You have no quit in you. We shall withdraw for now. But we will break you tomorrow. You will not leave this room until you are broken." Saying this, they all withdrew one by one. The last unicorn’s horn flashed and she blacked out.

The Endgame: Checkmate

Seven years passed; seven, long, agonizing years. For one like me, who has seen many more years than any mortal, seven years should have seemed like nothing. It should have passed like a few days. Yet the days passed like millennia and the months like aeons. As the silver-maned unicorn promised, Pinkie Pie did not leave the chamber until she was broken. After a month and a half, when she was on the brink of death due to malnutrition, they finally fed her. They continued to do this regularly. They ran an IV into her leg so that she would stay hydrated also.

Nearly every day, the nine returned from the inner chambers and labored to rewire the way that her brain worked. Though I nearly became sick several times, I forced myself to continue watching the oppression that was upon her. I peered into her soul and saw that after six years and twelve months, her spirit was still unaffected and her soul intact. When I saw this, I was astonished. I knew well enough what drove her. I saw clearly the prize of which Twilight spoke: that which drove Pinkie to persevere despite the most adverse conditions. Yet I could not fathom how any mortal could take this much torture and still be sane. All she had to do was relent and it would all end. Yet she chose to press on; forsaking comfort for an ideal.

There was even a time in the third month of the first year when the silver-maned unicorn ripped the muzzle off before beginning. “Why?” He screeched. “Why do you resist us so? How do you not weaken? What madness has seized you as to make you like this?” His loud voice was full of malice and frustration.

Pinkie did not answer but instead asked with tears in her eyes. “Why are you such a frowny pants? I feel your pain every time your mind touches mine and it makes me so sad. What happened that made you a grouchy Gary? Why won’t you let anypony help you when somepony could make you feel better?” At this, the wrathful pony gagged her once more and assaulted her without even waiting for the help of his companions.

After it was all over and she was still lying and sobbing uncontrollably from the trauma of what she had seen and experienced, I spoke to her. As always, she could not hear me but I spoke to impose orderly form on my chaotic thoughts. “How do you do it Pinkie? It does not make sense. How, when you are tortured so appallingly, can you do what you have just done? Even when you are on the verge of your very spirit being broken, you still are trying to make joyful those you seek to ruin you? This sort of love cannot exist. I do not blame them when they say that you are mad. There has never in the history of this world been one such as you, who loved all beings so much, that she tried to bring joy even when she was only short of being crucified. What madness is this?”

Incidents like this happened every so often. Yet they did her no good. In was in the fifth year that they tried electro-shock therapy. I cringe when I write these words because of the horrors that I witnessed. There is a limit to how much pain a pony can take, and I believe now that she passed her limit several times over during that point. This continued on for a month and they finally stopped when they realized that the effort was fruitless as well. Then they went back to the usual idea: the minds of nine of the world’s eldest and most elite magi all trying to pry open the mind of one hardened earth pony.

It was in the seventh year that I saw a new pony enter the scene. The silver haired pony walked down a morbid corridor. The walls were covered with strange and terrible scenes of equine sacrifice and murals of dark prophesies and ominous words from the three magical languages. He entered through a set of double doors marked with the same black dragon as on the door to the outer sanctum. Through these doors was a study lined with bookshelves of fading books and decaying scrolls dating back to ancient days. In the center of the study was a circle with an upside down pentacle. A unicorn who was about the age of twenty five sat in its center. She was reading a black book with silver clasps. In the brightness of the study, one could easily see her features. Her coat was colored a light magenta. Her mane and tail were a shade of violet with light purple highlights. Three cut diamonds composed her cutie mark. Her eyes were purple, and had a sort of mysteriousness to them. I saw also that Fear was with her; whispering thoughts into her head.

The light appeared to hurt the stallion’s eyes as he entered, but he said nothing about it. He made his way over to the front of the circle where a dot of five feet in diameter inscribed in a triangle was drawn. He entered the figure and kneeled before the mare. His western accent broke the silence of the study. “Soror Superior, I apologize but we have not made any progress with Five yet.”

Amethyst Star seemed to pay no attention to him for a moment; focusing intently on her book. As her horn flashed to turn a page, she spoke in a civil voice. “And what would be the reason, Styx? It’s been seven years today, right? Surely the nine most powerful magi in the world can break one untrained pony. Haven’t you broken the most skilled unicorns in Celestia’s court?”

Styx grimaced. “This one is different, Soror. When we enter her mind it is as if we are trying to batter a wall of steel. I have never seen anything like it. Phlegethon, Cocytus, and I have talked it over and we have strong reason to believe that there is a great spell put upon her. We just see the words ‘σε αγαπαω’ when we try to peer into her.”

The mare looked up and gazed at him. “I want you to understand that this is very important.” She said slowly. “Is there anything else, Styx?”

“Yes, Soror Superior; it appears also that there is an internal barrier. I know it sounds like madness, but it truly may be that her will itself is holding us back. Even if we were able to break through the wall of her soul, we believe we would not be able to master her spirit even with the nine of us.”

“That is mad, but madness does not always signify falsehood. I think though that it’s time I had a look at this mare.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Pinkie awoke to the gleam of the sun which hurt her eyes. It was the first time she had seen natural light in seven years. A voice that she thought was familiar said to her, “Don’t try to open your eyes yet, they’ll take some time to adjust.”

She realized that she was sitting in a chair and that also her forelegs were free. But when she tried to move them, she found it too difficult a task. The voice spoke again. “I did what I could with your forelegs but they’ve atrophied quite a bit.”

“Who are you?” Pinkie asked. A second later, the glare over her eyes subsided and she opened them. The pony had placed a pair of sunglasses on her. Now able to see, she looked forward and saw the magenta unicorn sitting on the opposite end of a table in a sunny garden with many different types of flowers in the background. Recognizing her instantly, Pinkie exclaimed, “Amy! Oh, I’m so glad to see you again. I haven’t seen you since you left Ponyville.”

She appeared unaffected by Pinkie’s show of excitement. “Pinkie, they tell me that you’re a strong mare. For seven years you’ve been as a whole unaffected by daily attempts at treatment.”

Pinkie looked confused for a moment and then she realized something. “Oh,” she said frowning. “You’re with those meanies.”

“I am the head of the Equestrian Mental Institution and have been charged with your rehabilitation. But please answer me. You’ve been deliberately resisting treatment for some time now.”

Pinkie accepted the change of subject. “Well, yeah. They want me to be sad like them. Why would I want to do that?”

Amethyst sighed. “Pinkie I know that you are out of your mind, but you have to understand, normal people can’t take the kind of pressure you are under. I’m afraid that if this persists, there will be nothing left after we break you.” Pinkie didn’t seem to understand and didn’t respond. The unicorn sighed again but continued, “And that’s why I’m going to offer you a choice now. Give up and save yourself a lot of trouble. I don’t want to make you sad, I want to free you from this insanity you have that makes you think you can make the whole world happy. It just can’t be done. Some people don’t want to be happy for reasons that we can’t explain. The sooner you realize this, the sooner you’ll no longer be a threat to society and you can go back to Ponyville. Wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t it be great to go back to Sugarcube corner where you could eat all those sweets and be happy? That’s what can happen if you just comply.”

Pinkie saw through the guise. “I can’t believe that. I know everybody wants to smile inside. They’re just sad because they’re hurting and won’t let anypony help them. And I’ve just figured out that that’s because they think they’ll get hurt even more. But I wanna show them that if they just learn to laugh at their fears and reach out for help they can be joyful.”

Amethyst placed a hoof on her face. “Look, I don’t have to break you if you just give in a little. I can make this easier on you but you have to let me in. I’m going to give you one more chance.” She said this as kindly as she could. “As a friend and a doctor I’m begging you just to ease up a little.”

Pinkie did not concede but said, “I’m sorry. I have to make everypony joyful. That’s what Pinkie’s here for.” Pinkie saw Amethyst stand up and a straightjacket and muzzle magically bound her again. Suddenly the sun began to dim until it was blood red; casting a crimson filter on everything. Pinkie thought that she could hear chimes, and then she realized it. The table she was sitting on disappeared and was replaced by a door. The chair under her disappeared as well and she fell painfully onto her back.

The unicorn walked around the door, but her appearance had changed. She was no longer even a magenta unicorn, but a black alicorn with red eyes. When she spoke, Pinkie realized it: She was in that nightmare world again. “Then you leave me no choice.” The alicorn said with a terrible demonic voice.

The sound of the chimes which were only noticeable quickened in tempo to a torrent of nearly instantaneous strikes. Their volume also increased so that she was sure her ears should have been bleeding. Then, Amethyst, or rather Fear, was upon her. Rapidly the physical pain was eclipsed by the unimaginably intense terrors that Pinkie saw before her. I cannot even begin to describe what kinds of inconceivable sights that Pinkie saw and felt: It was the agony of billions of ponies being tortured and killed all at once that she was feeling and seeing simultaneously.

And in addition to the simultaneous maddening sound of the chimes and the visions, the spirit of Amethyst was directed by Fear. “No walls are thick enough, no fortress impenetrable enough to keep her out.” Her ability alone easily dwarfed the combined might of the nine. She assailed Pinkie’s mind with indescribably inexorable might such that my spell which was inadvertently and inexplicably casted to defend her was brushed aside as a tsunami would a piece of paper guarding the walls of a sand castle. Nor did her irresistible power stop there. She continued on to storm into the confines and charge against her spirit; striking with olympian strength that which I thought inviolable.

When the seemingly unstoppable spirits of Amethyst and Fear struck against the immovable will that was Pinkie’s spirit, it was like time itself stopped. There was an inaudible clash of such intensity that I feared the fabric of the world would be unwound. There was a great battle between spirits that cannot be likened to any war of deities which I had ever seen. A conflict of such intensity indeed was never seen until that point. Nor was it brief, for the battle continued on for an immeasurable amount of time. I cannot say when it stopped for its effects were too remarkable.

Pinkie found herself and Amethyst out of breath in the darkness of outer sanctum which she had never left. Though extremely worn, there was a triumphant look on the magenta mare’s face. The nine stallions that were in the room went to her and raised her up to take her out of the room. They opened the doors and on the way out Amethyst shouted in between gulps of breath, “Do not take hope in this Pinkie! Impasses can only last for so long.”

♦ ♦ ♦

The Terrible Three overlooked Amethyst. Discord sounded annoyed and fatigued. “For goodness’ sake, I thought we defeated her nine years ago. Why are we worried about this now?”

Fear who was directly over the mare answered, “The enemy’s trial was the turning point which signaled our inevitable victory. We will win this war soon but that does not mean that we will not have to work for it first.”

The draconequus threw his arms up. “That’s what you said years ago and years before that. Are you serious this time or are we going to be doing this until she dies of old age? Because really don’t feel like waiting that long.”

“Patience Discord; we are on the home stretch. Not only have we been starving her, now with sleep deprivation, she is sure to be far too weak to resist. Furthermore, attrition has been wearing on her and is soon to prevail.”

After two more years of constant attacks on Pinkie’s mind, I regret to say that these words were not empty. Despite the wondrous relentlessness of Pinkie’s will, the daily spiritual assaults and physical abuse were finally beginning to take their toll after nine years. It was at this time that I was at my lowest; for I could see nothing other than her defeat. No matter how durable adamantium is, if one keeps beating upon it, despite its “unbreakable” nature, it will eventually crumble. So it was with Pinkie. For all things but God, there is no such thing as infinity. There are no absolutes. There is no unbreakable substance, no unstoppable force, no bottomless pit, or boundless sky. All things which have been created have a limit, and Pinkie was fast-approaching hers.

I saw it in her each day. Though she still acted kindly towards her aggressors and did her best to remain joyful, I could see that she was becoming sullen. Her once poofy hair had drooped and become straight. Her smile which was once so vibrant was now a straight line just barely raised enough so that one could not call it a frown. She was so thin that one could easily see her bones, and so exhausted from forced lack of sleep that I believed the bags under her eyes and the wrinkles forming on her face were permanent. I even believed that her coat itself had darkened in color. She was fighting extremely hard, but even immortals can die (We just call it deportation).

It was finally in the fifth month of the ninth year that I looked back to Ponyville to see what had become of it. I found that though it was not full of glowering and morose ponies, no one was nearly as happy as in the days of Pinkie Pie. I went and looked into the days and lives of the bearers of the Elements. In the case of Applejack, the honest, I found that she was hard at work; consumed by the demanding toil of a farmer. Yet I perceived that this was merely a distraction. There can be no mourning if one is too busy to mourn. At the Carousel Boutique, I saw that Rarity, the generous, was still dealing from the trauma that had occurred nearly a decade ago. She was a fashionista, but I noticed that her recent designs had a bit too much black. As for Fluttershy, the kind, I discerned that she was now a mute and a recluse; communicating only with animals, and even then, only with sign language.

Then I came to glorious Cloudsdale and looked upon the olympian house of Rainbow Dash, the loyal. Of all those I had seen who appeared to be affected by the loss of Pinkie, she appeared to be the worst. She too had become a recluse; going out rarely to do her duties as a pegasus pony and even more rarely to buy supplies. Her mane was mangled and skewed in every direction. While it was once vibrant, it had now become too matted to notice much color. Her coat was equally dirty and it looked as though she had not bathed in a while. When I peered into her room –where she spent most of her time- I found that it was dusty as could be. Nothing looked as if it had been moved in ages. As for her, she did nothing but lie upon her bed all day and night. Oftentimes I could not tell whether she was asleep or awake because she looked no different in either state. Her face hurt me the most. In addition to being unwashed, it was completely desolate. There was no emotion in them; nor was there any sign of life, or that she even had a spirit for that matter. I believed that I was staring not at Rainbow Dash, but at an empty container which resembled her.

After viewing her a few days (while keeping also a watch on Pinkie Pie who was steadily losing herself as well) I looked to find Twilight Sparkle, the Element of magic. But when I did not immediately locate her, I desired so much simply to end it all once more and return to my work as a sage. I was exhausted from seeing all of this misery and turned to view the end of Pinkie at the EMI.

But when I did so, I was stopped by Hope, the only benevolent goddess I had seen since I began my search for one who knew joy. “Why do you give up now Saeldur? Did you not come to Ponyville seeking Magic?”

I answered, “Hope, why must I suffer this? It is bad enough that Laughter must suffer and die, but now must I go and see that all of the five have been broken? Let me go and simply imagine that Magic is doing well and happy so that at least I can fool myself into believing that there is yet some joy in this world.”

“Look for her, I tell you. I promise that I have not left this world alone. And that I remain here; for she is my vessel.”

So, I went to where she would likely be, the Great Library at Canterlot. And I discovered her in a corner of the library conversing with some twenty lawyers. “But it does not make sense!” She said to them.

One of those with her answered, “And you may be right. We have spoken with those who were not interviewed by Lauponi and saw the one responsible, and we have gathered strong evidence of this. If you can form a spell that can find the perpetrator, we may be able to free your friend.”

Twilight looked at the old pony and said, “So we’re still back at that problem then. Well I have been working on…”

And she went on to describe her research into the nature of spells of revelation. Hearing her speak, I found that she had been working around the clock to redeem her friend since the trail and she was still working with the same determination. And Hope came to me and said, “See? There is still yet hope.”

Not desiring to allow myself false hope I answered, “This changes nothing. They have concluded nothing that could not be discerned within a year of work. They have made no great progress since then.” Saying this, I returned to the Equestrian Mental Institution. Yet in my heart, there was a shadow of hope. Twilight was working for her friend and she was not going to give up until she knew for sure that it was too late.

But as if fortune immediately wanted to put a damper on me, at the EMI, I saw that Pinkie was truly on her last leg. She had spent nine years and eleven months in that place and there was nothing left in her. Again and again Amethyst attacked her, aided by Fear. This time, when the two spirits clashed, I heard amidst the deafening roar of the battle something that sounded like an earthquake. And I knew this to be her mind: A huge crack appeared across Pinkie’s vision and consequently through mine. It was at that moment that the unicorn had reached the limit of her endurance and had to end the spell. Yet when they both exited the nightmare, Amethyst shouted with a surprising amount of reserve energy, “One more time, Pinkie! One last time and I will heal you! The night is almost over; the day is nearly here!” Her voice echoed throughout the facility.

After she and the others left, I knelt before Pinkie who was completely unresponsive. The room was still dark as a moonless night. Yet with my eyes I could see the horrors of the room. The symbols and pictures on the wall seemed to mock her; spitting venomous ideas her way. There was nothing but hopelessness in this room, and she had not left it for almost ten years. Wishing to see her close, I peered into her eyes. I saw almost nothing within her. The mare that was once so full of life was now scarred beyond recognition. Nopony who knew her before would have recognized her. I perceived that deep within her there was still joy, but it was so feeble that it was invisible to mortal eyes, and nearly so to those immortals who are untrained in peering deep into the souls of ponies.

She convulsed. I saw awareness return to her though she had been awake the whole time. She was shivering though it was humid in the room. Amethyst had forgotten to replace the muzzle so she was able to speak. She spoke even though there was no one to listen. “Please … if anybody is out there … help me. I know that nopony can make me sad … but this is too much.” Her voice broke with those last words. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this. I can’t remember anything anymore … I d-… I d-” She sobbed and began to weep. She was also sweating profusely. Yet neither her tears nor her sweat was clear. I saw that she was emitting blood in the place of tears and sweat. “I don’t remember anything but this place.” She finally was able to say. “I can’t remember the taste of sugar or the sound of anypony’s voice but the ones that are in my head. Please … I can’t take this anymore … I tried, but I just can’t go on any- … anymore. Please … somepony help me.” I could see that she did not have enough energy to cry loudly, so she just continued on sobbing.

I heard her desperate plea and was cut deeply to the heart. The emotion and pain that welled up inside of me compelled me to shed tears. I knew why this was happening: I knew that the world of mortals was cursed and that bad things happened to good ponies. I received this knowledge long ago soundly and accepted it. But then, when I was sitting next to Pinkie Pie, being unable to help her, it just did not seem just or righteous for any god or goddess to allow this to happen.

Pinkie spoke through sobs and broken words once more. “I know I must be crazy now.” She hiccupped. “Here I am crying for help when I know that no one will help me.” She paused for a long while to cry bitterly. Her anguish continued on for several minutes. Finally, her eyes shot open, and softened. Gradually, she stopped crying her tears mixed with blood. She seemed calmed all of a sudden. Then she said, “But I know what awaits me because of that. Because no one came to me, I will be rewarded all the more.” Her voice was no longer labored, but was now serene. Then she spoke words which were so characteristic of her, yet so full of wisdom.

I smiled for everypony everyday

I laughed for them every night.

I made them smile and laugh,

And that’s enough.

If I die now,

If those grumpy unicorns kill me.

I won’t blame them,

Though I’m sad for them.

But I won’t let that get me down.

I lived the greatest number of hours to bring joy

I gave my whole live to that purpose,

And I think it’s all been worthwhile.

If life was a race, I crossed the finish line.

If trying to get everypony to be happy was a battle, I fought it good.

Now I see the prize that I went through this for.

And this hurt doesn’t even compare to that joy.

And she fell silent.

I heard these words and a new surge of bittersweet emotions came over me. I spoke to the broken mare; wishing so direly that she could hear me. My voice was as compassionate as it has ever been. “My beloved Pinkie Pie, long have I watched you and I wish so much that I could have met you in person. For better would be one second with you than thousands of years elsewhere. I would gladly trade this eternal life which I have for one moment to speak with you rather than to you.

“For so long I searched for you among the ponies of Equestria. I went to many places high and low, and I found none that even compared to you. Everywhere I went, I found only misery and depression. Yet when I wanted to end my search, your birth was heralded by Hope. And I watched you toil in the fields for eight years. And on the day when you earned your cutie mark, I could not help but know that what Hope said would be true. Then you went to Ponyville and were given a new name.

“Then you fought against the dark rulers of this world without giving up or even stopping to rest. For these things, I began to love you … not as you would a coltfriend or your mother or father. But I loved you so that I would allow myself to come to harm and even death for your sake. Yet it could not be so. The dark ones conspired against you and sent you here; forcing your friends to forsake you, though you had done nothing wrong. And if I could, I would gladly suffer these things in your place seven times over.

“How I wish I could answer your call. How I wish I could come to your aid. How I wish I could grind into dust those who oppress you. But because I cannot, I am speaking that you will now hear me. I am trying with all my might to impart this message and carve it into your heart; for your ears are deaf to my words. There are those who still love you. I love you and wish you the best, but there also are mortals who love you still. Among these is Twilight, your friend who hopelessly fights for you and knows your innocence in her heart. At the last Pinkie, I wish the spirit of love upon you in this last hour. Your death approaches, for your body will fall if your unyielding spirit breaks. But know that you have not been wholly forsaken. We love you.”

♦ ♦ ♦

The next day I heard the sound of hoofsteps from the hallway: ten sets of hooves walking down the pathway to the outer sanctum where Pinkie was. My stomach was in a knot. They seemed to take longer than they should have. Each sound had no interference as though one was talking a step and then the other nine took a step after him in turn. It was the grim sound of inevitability; the slowness that came with mortality. The door was not thrust open as it usually was, but rather Styx opened it quietly and the other nine followed in with silence. I saw also with them the Terrible Three. What made me uneasy was that Discord was as unusually silent as he was when Pinkie awaited judgment.

They all gathered in a semicircle around Pinkie who was still lying on the circle. For six minutes nopony said a word. The room was as silent as a cemetery. Finally, Amethyst spoke. “The time has come Pinkie. Today you will be healed. You know as well as everyone in this room that you are too weak to resist any more. Because of this, I’m going to give you one last chance. Submit and make this easy on yourself. It’ll be must easier if we don’t have to force you to resign.”

Pinkie sat there for a long while. Each of the magi leaned in and listened carefully. Finally she answered. “And as every other time, I want you to be happy. And me giving up now won’t fix that.”

This did not surprise Amethyst in the least. “Very well, Pinkie; you leave us no choice.” Once more, Pinkie began to hear the sound of chimes, but this time she also heard a variety of other instruments. That meant that unlike before, now Amethyst would be accompanied by the nine magi. Slowly, the vision of darkness came to her again. The door to her soul followed, and she met Fear’s gaze with strength.

The battle started as the ten powerful spirits, being refreshed and supported by well-nourished bodies and souls, trampled upon her soul and entered to the place where her spirit was housed. Like a wave they crashed upon her. Ten against one should have been easy, yet it was not so. She was not going down without a fight. The battle was fearsome; vapors and colors and indescribable forms and likenesses crashing upon each other like gargantuan waves. Incredible sound echoed through the halls each time a blow was struck. Pinkie held her own for a good while; tiring the nine easily and winding Amethyst who was even supported by Fear’s olympian powers.

Again I cannot be sure of how long this went on, but at some point she finally began to slow down. The movements which were once like lightning were now as slow as a wave of the sea. The ten minds tackled her and struck her repeatedly. Huge booms reverberated my very being. Then, I saw once more a crack in my vision, and a sound like an earthquake. The noise increased in intensity and the crack became larger and then branched out until all I saw through the eyes of Pinkie were shards of space. Then there was an immense explosive sound, greater than any other that had occurred. It was like a wall of glass of immeasurably large size shattering.

Then, from my point of view, I saw two vapors: two spirits come out from Pinkie’s spirit and take form. I identified them as the embodiments of Love and Joy. And I exclaimed over the commotion, “It is no wonder that she was so strong with those spirits backing her.” But as I said this, I screamed aloud for I knew the sound that I had heard was the sound of Pinkie’s spirit being broken. I screamed as loud as I could because of many emotions: anger, frustration, disbelief, anguish and many others. But then there was suddenly a calm, and I heard a voice. “Let her go!” And vision disappeared without warning. We were all back in the outer sanctum, but there was another. There was Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Harmony, with her horn glowing. And with a flash, she cast a spell and something wondrous happened.

Suddenly I felt a strange sensation as warmth clouded around me. I cannot say that I had ever felt anything in the physical sense for a long time, yet I was then feeling it. Then I looked and saw Fear, Discord, and Suffering screaming. Fear specifically shouted, “Flee now or she will undo us!” But they were too late, because a second later, another flash of light from Twilight’s horn blinded me for a second.

When my sight returned, every mortal in the room looked at the alicorns (and Discord) and gasped. We gasped as well. Suddenly, all of the immortals in the room had taken flesh. At that moment, Twilight shouted; addressing Fear, “You! You’re the one to blame for the death of Mr. Lauponi.”

At this Fear shouted, “Attack now!”

As quickly as possible I moved in front of Twilight and cast a protective spell. A bubble of green light enveloped Twilight and I just in time to intercept a concentrated beam of black energy from Suffering’s horn which would have cut through her as though she was made of tissue paper. She gasped again. “You’re on our side?”

I spoke, my voice sounding a little bit different than I remembered. “I’ve been on your side since the beginning.” Fear was about to cast another spell. “Twilight,” I shouted. “Cast a protective spell on Pinkie Pie now!”

As quickly as she could, she reacted and a pink bubble covered Pinkie Pie as well as Amethyst who had fallen on her at some point during the spiritual battle. I counter attacked and tried to cast a spell to bind the two alicorns, but I could not focus on both of them at the same time and they broke out quickly.

It was at this point that Discord finally decided to respond and raised his claw, about to snap. As he did so, I sensed an enormous amount of energy, which I discerned that he could use to alter the very fabric of time and space. I had to act immediately or we would lose the fight on the first move. I shouted, “Cade.” Discord was thrown off of his feet. It is possible for divinities (and theoretically mortals) to use any of the three magical languages to perform tasks without wasting time to channel energy, but at a risky cost. I felt a sharp pain in my chest and hoped that I had not damaged anything.

After thwarting each of them once, I anticipated that this was where they would make a tactical retreat, but first they has to feint. Suffering’s horn glowed bright red and I perceived she was about to cast a spell that would strike multiple targets: right on cue. I could not block it or they would escape.

“Twilight, dodge left.” I leapt away to the right and a shower of sparkling energies flew by. This was where I had to intercept the teleportation spell. I couldn’t check to see if the mare made it. Because that evasive maneuver had brought me closer to them, I could now attack physically faster than either I or they could use magic. I reached to my saddlebag and grabbed a knife. “Ha.” I thought. “Right where I left you.” Just as Suffering was about to channel magic for a teleportation, I lunged for her and she was forced to cut off her concentration in order to dodge.

Meanwhile, Amethyst, now being free of Fear’s influence was waking up to Pinkie Pie who was half dead. She lifted herself off of her and shook the pink pony. “Pinkie, oh my Celestia, please tell me what I thought I just did didn’t happen!” Yet Pinkie was out cold and unresponsive to her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her horn glow and energy flow onto Pinkie. The unconscious mare’s eyes fluttered and opened. The magenta unicorn breathed a sigh of relief and then asked earnestly, “Pinkie are you alright?”

Pinkie looked at Amethyst and then at the battle. Then said, “Does this mean you aren’t a meany anymore?”

Hearing this speech come from Pinkie Pie made the magenta mare embrace her tightly and exclaim, “Oh, Pinkie I’m so sorry.”

It was at this point that I should have been extremely confused as Pinkie should have technically been broken (in other words not who she once was) but I was a bit distracted because I had to guard against a non-physical curse (a kind of spell which is unavoidable but can be blocked). I shouted, “Young mare, I know that you want to have your reconciliatory moment now, and so do I, but do you not believe that we have a bigger problem on our hooves?”

Amethyst immediately was brought to the present situation. She started to charge a spell of her own and shouted, “Magi, attack the female alicorns and the draconequus.”

With it suddenly becoming a thirteen on three engagement, the goddesses were hard pressed to defend themselves. The ten most elite magi in the world, the greatest student of the solar princess, and a divine alicorn fighting against three deities: I will say that it still was not easy. If I allowed Discord to cast one spell it would be devastating as he might be able to make something as insane as our horns disappear happen. Suffering and Fear seemed to catch onto this and sought to do everything they could to buy him a second of time. Thankfully though, none of the deities were physical fighters. So, after minutes of trading spells and trying not to become horribly disfigured though, one of the magi finally charged and tackled Discord.

As soon as the main threat was down, Twilight and I used a synchronous morphing and stupefaction spell and hit Suffering square in the chest. With the spearhead down, I moved and tackled Fear. Once she was fazed, I restrained her with a simple flash of the horn. Having captured and incapacitated her, I determined no need for Suffering and thrust my knife into her throat. She disappeared in blue flames and would not likely return. Amidst the commotion, Discord somehow escaped, but it was alright. He was wounded from being tackled; the mage's horn having pierced him. He would not last long.

When victory was clear, I congratulated all of them. At my words, Pinkie was the one to ask the question nibbling at everyone’s tongue. “Hey, I know those other three, but who are you?”

“There will be time for that later. For now we have to go to Canterlot and request an audience with Princess Celestia.”

Amethyst stopped me. “Wait, before you go anywhere I need to express my deep apologies to Pinkie for putting her through all of this.”

I sighed and checked the restraining spells on Fear. “Proceed but make it quick.”

So Amethyst and Pinkie spoke with one another, and although the party pony tried to reassure the unicorn that she was alright, the magenta mare soon became quite emotional and began to weep; embracing her and sobbing. I didn’t blame her because I probably would have done something similar.

Somewhere in the conversation, the truly broken mare started frantically repeating, "Pinkie, please forgive me!"

To this, Pinkie finally broke off their embrace, placed her hooves on Amethyst's shoulders and looked her in the eyes with a serious expression. Then a huge smile cam across her face and she said, "Oh silly, how can either of us be happy if I live in the past? I forgive you." And she embraced her once more; making the unicorn burst into tears once more. Pinkie did her best to be soothing, but comforting her took several minutes.

After their moment was over and Amethyst was moderately composed, the ten were left to hold down the fort and the rest of us escorted Fear to the royal palace. The sight of my hybrid form surprised the guards and they probably thought I was closely related to the princess. One escorted us directly to the throne room and said that Princess Celestia had a moment at the time.

As we walked forward into the great solar palace’s throne room, I could not help but feel a sense of awe. It was a huge rectangle; being three hundred feet wide and seven hundred feet long. The whole room was bathed in the bright sun of the midday which blasted through the enormous windows. Many of the windows were clear to preserve the natural color of sunlight, but a great many more were made of stained glass. These depicted great events of the past, including the triumph over Discord and the Edict of Peace. One even depicted the sun beaming down upon the planet. The walls were lined with lavender wallpaper; a color which combined purple and white, symbolizing royalty and peace. Also there were twenty four ionic columns which offered support for the immense room.

Then there was the throne itself. A long red train ran down the length of the room and up to the seat. It was made of magnificent gold and decorated with engraved patterns of vines. On its sides were two fountains which constantly poured a steady trickle of water. Beautiful flowers matching the color of the walls adorned both sides as well. The actual chair was colossal; being raised up seven feet. The back extended twenty feet high and a red cushion extended to seven feet. Many stairs led up to it, but were covered by the carpet; giving one a dual sense that the princess was approachable, but still raised higher than any of her subjects.

There sat the immortal goddess-princess, Celestia, beaming in radiant splendor. One could take a simply look at her and shudder because of her terrible and awesome appearance. As a norm, her massive wings were outstretched, and extended to her sides, which made her huge stature of six feet (towering about a normal pony’s three and a half) seem even more imposing. She was crowned with a diadem of gold, complemented with a large amethyst stone. Around her neck and dropping to her breast, was a neck ring which had an elaborate, entwining pattern. In it was another large and precious stone. The sun itself was her cutie mark; resting upon her very flank as though the sun as well as the earth was under her.

Yet if one looked for a moment and braved the terrible fear of staring in the face of the queen of queens, one would not see the wrath or pride that follows with most self-exalting nobleponies. Rather, complementing her domineering curb appeal, she had an expression of serenity about her. She was smiling softly and gazing at us as we approached. Her beautiful mane and tail were colored with light colors which flowed though there was no draft in the room. Her lavender eyes were forgiving and bore the expression of a mother who was about to welcome her foals home after they had gone on a long journey. But they also evoked an aura of compassion.

We walked until we were two hundred feet from the throne and kneeled. The guard addressed the enthroned alicorn. “Princess, I apologize for interrupting you during your quiet time, but these ponies here say that have an urgent matter that requires your attention.”

The sun princess spoke imperiously, “That’s fine captain. They appear to be telling the truth.” With this, the guard bowed and left us. I was about to speak but she was faster. Her commanding voice made me flinch. “Saeldur, it’s been a long time. I did not ever think you would come back or even could return for that matter.”

“Her majesty has her student to thank for that. Without Twilight Sparkle, it would have not been possible.”

“I see also that you have a prisoner. Moreover, Pinkie Pie, who was sentenced to the Equestrian Mental Institution is free. Is there a good reason for these things?”

Twilight answered eagerly, “Yes, Princess. This is the alicorn that Pinkie knows is really responsible for the death of Mr. Lauponi.”

The imperatrix’s eyes narrowed. “And can you prove this?”

“The whole town of Ponyville is witness.”

“Who exactly is this?” She asked.

I answered, “The goddess of Fear.”

The enthroned alicorn, who had up until now been speaking in a royal and upsetting voice, changed her tone to a more comforting one and said, “Well then, Twilight, I suppose I’ll just have to trust you.” She called out, “Jeeves, could you come here, please?”

A stallion ran in from outside the door and presented himself. He pulled out a piece of parchment from his saddle bag and raised a quill with his horn. “I am ready when you are princess.” He said.

Celestia spoke in a stately, but still pleasing tone. As she spoke, the unicorn wrote down her words. “I, Princess Celestia, hereby proclaim my subject, Pinkie Pie, innocent of all charges that were placed upon her as a result of the Lauponi incident. And for the murder of Britten Lauponi, I sentence the alicorn, Fear, to an eternal banishment in the realm of Tartarus.” The three younger ponies cheered. I smiled and Fear tugged pointlessly at her bonds.

After celebrating and thanking the princess, they all returned to Ponyville. Days later, I heard that Pinkie Pie was welcomed immediately back with news of Fear’s capture and praised as a hero for standing unfair judgment. Soon after arriving, she began her work anew; bringing lasting joy to Ponyville as she had before.

I stayed in Canterlot in the company of the princesses and enjoyed the benefits of an honored guest. On the third night of my stay, the princess summoned me to her. So I stepped into her bedchamber and strode to the edge of the door to the balcony. The night was clear and full of many stars. The moon was also at its fullest, and a great deal of silvery light fell on her. The great monarch stood at the edge. At the height which the overhang was, she was able to overlook the whole kingdom. She was standing, peacefully, viewing the magnificent sight. After a moment, she asked, “So you are back?”

Kneeling before her I replied, “I am your majesty.”

“I suppose then that you saw all of this before returning?”

“I saw everything that your subject did from the time she was five.”

“And you saw her determination against these creatures.”

“Yes, your highness. I witnessed also the deliberations that her enemies worked against her and the assiduousness that she fought with against them despite having no skill for planning.”

She paused for a long time while staring out into the night. “What sort of things did she endure in that place?”

I cringed. “Your majesty, I do not feel as though I can answer that. On the one hand the things which transpired there were unspeakable, and on the other, those who did those things are not wholly responsible and I do not wish to incriminate them before the highest judge in the land.”

“Saeldur, do you still claim to be my servant?”

I hesitated, but answered, “I swore my fealty to her royal majesty, Princess Celestia of the Sun, high princess of the kingdom of Equestria two hundred years before the war and I do not see my deportation as an excuse to break that oath.”

“Do you feel that your skills at writing have not deteriorated?”

“Not in the least your highness.”

“Will you be willing to write an account of this that all in the present and future ponies might hear of her deeds?”

I looked up astonished. “Surely not, your majesty.”

“I will allow you to write it as you will so long as you do not fabricate anything. Tell the story as you see fit. But I desire for there to be a living record; an eyewitness account of these happenings for generations to come.”

The rest is, as they say, history.

Epilogue

I wrote and published the words before this only three weeks after the princess presented to me the task. Yet many years later, now in the present, I write this final epilogue to the story; being finally given a body after losing one again.

After a while of staying at the solar palace, I finally gave into my heart’s desire and moved to Ponyville; spending time in the company of Pinkie Pie. I cannot express the joy and happiness that I felt in those days. It is one thing to see joy before you, but to experience it is entirely another understanding. This is the difference between “knowing of” and knowing. She truly was an undeniably jubilant person. No situation could make her lose her spirit and she attacked every hardship with eagerness. Those days which I spent with the joy and pride of the town were the greatest I had ever been gifted.

It was during this time that in addition to satisfying myself, I also made it a point to discover more about Pinkie. I spoke with Twilight at one time and entrusted her with the knowledge of the triune nature of ponies. When she understood this, I was then able to ask her the nagging question. I said to her, “I saw and heard her break. I witnessed for myself the spirits of joy and love flee from her. How then after she was broken did nothing change?” This is what I did not have the time to ask when it happened on account of the perilous battle which I had to fight as soon as the divinities materialized. Yet now that I was not constricted to a life-or-death situation, the idea just simply made me nonplussed.

Twilight answered me, “Well, it’s just Pinkie. There are a lot of things about her which just don’t make sense. But that’s what makes her who she is.”

But I persisted. “But do you not at least have a guess for why she is still so impassioned with joy and love?”

When she pondered this for a moment, she replied, “I guess I’d have to say that it’s in her nature.”

Nature: a very deep word, full of meaning. For her to use it properly meant that she understood not only what it means (a feat for a mortal in itself) but also what her statement as a whole implied. I thanked her and went away pondering the possibility. For joy and love to be in her nature meant that they were a component of her being: that they were inextricably lodged in her very existence, and for them to cease to exist would mean the secession of her own existence. The idea baffled me.

Yet despite my lack of complete understanding, I was content to move on –which was extremely uncharacteristic of me, because I had an innate desire to pursue the heart of a matter until I found it- and see the glory of Pinkie in person; spending all the time I could with her. Pinkie lived on and soon all of Ponyville was the most joyful city on the planet. After she had made much progress in the town, Twilight finally came to her and offered to restore her cutie marks. Yet Pinkie asked Twilight to only heal one of her sides, so that a reminder of her courage and determination might remain for all to see. Twilight, hearing her reasoning, agreed and healed the cutie mark on her right side.

Then, realizing that there were other places that required her assistance, Pinkie ventured to all of the other towns and cities in the world; completing her goal in each place. Now, as with Max, there were always difficult cases -there were many several times more difficult than him- but Pinkie did not give up. She persisted and worked them hard until they were grinning each day. And when she left a place, the people did not lose their state of joy. They continued even to pass her philosophies on to their children.

At the age of one hundred and thirty (her joy granting her a long life), she returned to Ponyville. Upon passing through the gate, she was welcomed by the whole town who had assembled to welcome her home. They cheered so loudly at the sight of her and were so glad to see that she had returned that I believe the ground shook. I should know because I was one among them who shouted long and hard for joy. And despite her old age, she organized a party to celebrate with them which lasted for twelve hours. On the ninth hour into the celebration, she spoke to the whole assembly and said, “My friends, today my life’s work is accomplished. I am so glad to call you all my friends. Thanks for partying with me. I’ve lived a long time. And I’m not bragging when I say that my whole life has been worthwhile because of you guys and your smiles.”

After saying this, she said that she was tired and went to bed early even amongst the ongoing festivities. On the twelfth hour of the celebration, the partiers found that she had passed away painlessly in her sleep with a smile on her face. Yet there was no weeping at her death. Although everyone was unhappy that they would not see their friend again, they were glad that she had gone to the greatest place where she would receive the greatest awards for her deeds in her first life. She had told them this herself, and they believed.

The following morning, after the sun was raised, all of the ponies of the town went to Twilight and asked her to place preserving spells on the body that they could have time to prepare for her funeral. The unicorn agreed and placed enchantments on Pinkie’s body so that her body would remain unaltered by time for seven years. And after they were sure that the body would not see decay, the whole town congregated once more in the center marketplace where Pinkie had always met them. There, they began work on a mausoleum.

The construction of the mausoleum lasted three months. When it was finished, it was a white circular edifice capped with a dome. It had a floor and ceiling separated by twelve columns made of marble. Inside, there was a statute under which her coffin, which was made of diamond found in the mines, was laid. The statue was of Pinkie Pie reaching up with a determined look on her face, as though she was striving hard to reach something. Rarity herself carved it, and although she was inexperienced at the task, it could not have turned out better had the most skilled sculptors in all the world made it.

The funeral procession lasted for three months. Beginning with the first seven days, nearly every person in the town gave a lengthy eulogy for her. And after everypony was done, unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasus ponies from every town and city in Equestria arrived to commemorate her life with the ponies of Ponyville. They too gave long eulogies to Pinkie. Notably, Princesses Celestia and Luna also spoke of her fondly. And finally, on the third day of the last week of the three months, Twilight Sparkle took the podium set up outside the mausoleum. Her speech lasted for four days and was filled with some of the most amazing oratory skills and poetical commendation that I had ever heard. How I wish someone would have written it down, because it could have been studied by scholars and in literature classes for centuries because of its sheer astounding substance. But unfortunately Twilight spoke from memory and her eulogy has been lost to time.

A few days later, she came to me and asked me to teach her one of the ancient magical languages, but would not say why. Because she was the arch mage at the time, I considered that she knew of the gravity of what she was asking and I taught her one of them for five years. After this time had passed and she was extremely fluent in the language, she started work on a commission which had been given to her by the town: an epitaph for Pinkie.

Sadly, although she was the last of the Element bearers of her generation, even magic cannot make an immortal immune to death and she passed away at the age of one hundred and thirty three; after working on the epitaph for three years. When I found the most recent copy of her epitaph, I finished it for her with the town’s permission. So an epitaph, written in part by Twilight Sparkle, arch-mage, and faithful student of Princess Celestia, and in part by Saeldur, the spectator, was carved into the base of the statue in the mausoleum and filled in with sapphire stone, for all future generations to see. And even when I, the last living witness of the greatness of Pinkie Pie was forced once more to relinquish my flesh; perishing in a skirmish to prevent a war with the dragons in the west (due in part to the curse I cast upon Discord to make him lose balance), was gone, ponies would remember the name and accomplishments of Pinkie Pie. To this day, though indeed many generations have passed, none of her deeds were skewed in relation or tale, but were told exactly as they were told in my day.

Pinkie Pie, a mare beginning in the small town of Ponyville, with no one to care if she lived or died, embarked on a self-ordained mission out of love to banish the spirits of Fear and Suffering and cause all ponies to be completely joyful and happy in spite of any situation; knowing that joy is not dependent upon circumstances, but on a pony’s willingness to be happy. And for this mission, she was contested with and imprisoned and tortured. Yet at no time did she lash out at her mortal aggressors, but loved them and wished them well; for she knew that she was not warring against flesh and blood. And for nine years she fought unceasingly for her friends, displaying steadfast courage in her heart, and in the tenth year the enemy fled from the plane of Equestria, abandoning their rich farmlands of ponies which they had held captive for so long. And she went on to conquer until there was nothing left to conquer.

This epitaph was carved into her statue and filled with sapphire stone:

μη δακρυε ω ξειν ιππωι ταυτηι ηνταφιασαμεν

μη πιστευε οτι θαωαντος αυτην εχει

ιθι προς τους φιλους τας αδελφας και πασα της γης

και αγγελλειν τουτου

τηιδε κειται σωμα Πινκης

αυτηι χαρην ολοκληρον εχον

η σοι πασα μαχεσατο προς ισχθρους δαιμονους δειωους

διο αναπολογος ει ω ιππε συνοφρυωωομενον

μαμογελε ουν. αγαπει σε

μαμογελε ουν. συ δεσποτη χαρας σος ει

And on the other side, one later carved a translation for all to read.

Do not weep O stranger; for this entombed pony.

Neither believe that she is dead. She is not.

Go to your friends, to your sisters, to all of the world

And tell them of this:

Here lies the body of Pinkie.

The one completely joyful

Who fought for you all against terrible and mighty demons

That you may have no excuse to be with a frown or sullen face

Smile then. She loves you.

Smile then. You, yourself are the master of your joy.