A semi-normal life is all anypony asks for, but to be cast out from that life is what no pony expects or plans for. Now, one may be thinking that nothing good could ever come of that. I can say that that pony is wrong. Something good can come from the worst unexpected event.
I am Sol Shooter, a noble unicorn from Canterlot. I was raised here the whole twenty-two years of my life. My apparent father was a unicorn, and my mother a Pegasus. Both were granted nobility due to their heroic actions during the Dodge Junction skirmish with the Changelings almost thirty years ago. This drew the ire of the more conservative nobles, seeing them as part of the common pony “rabble.”
My personal life story aside, the whole debacle started when I arrived back home around an hour ago after almost two years at school due to my expulsion from Canterlot University (the collegiate level of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns). I had just been kicked out of his house and disinherited of my rightful estate. My father, always deriding my choices, saw this as my biggest failure. Though my mother begged him to reconsider, he wouldn’t budge; “the pony I once called father” was the kind of pony who goes back on a decision. I blame it on his half-Earth pony blood.
All I had to my name were the clothes in my suitcase, personal books, and money “that stallion my mother was married to” had given me in an envelope (he’s wasn’t too cruel, at least) and what I had left over from grants/scholarships. Inside the envelope was a note from my mother, written quickly judging by the handwriting. Another smaller envelope was inside; I pulled it out while reading the note.
My dear Sol,
It breaks my heart your father acted as he did. He heard about what you had done and was just acting rash. I’ll see what I can do about him; if I play my cards right, you should be back home in a matter of days or a few weeks. In the meantime, the small envelope has some extra money and an address. It’s to a house in the small town of Ponyville about a half-day’s train ride from Canterlot. It belongs to a mare named Rarity, a good friend of mine and my go-to for the fashionables. Just tell her “Your favorite customer has sent me”; it’s a sort of password we came up with just in case something terrible happened. She will be more than generous to help you. I love you and think of you always.
Mother
I closed the letter and took some money out of the envelope. It was past seven, so if I took the eight o’clock train to Ponyville, I’d make it there by noon the next day. I stopped by a street vendor to get a quick daisy and daffodil sandwich and bolted for the train station. I ran as quickly as I could, for the station was outside of “noble Canterlot.” I’ll just put this in perspective: the distance between “noble Canterlot” and the train station is filled with what the elitist nobles call “Canterlot’s rabble," the part of the city where the commonponies in Canterlot live; it’s roughly two and a half miles across.
I looked at a clock when it chimed 7:30. I luckily arrived at the train station at 7:45 (I was a noble-born unicorn who loved reading; physical endurance isn’t my strongest trait). I purchased a one-way ticket to Ponyville. I got my ticket and sped toward the train, stopping only to give the conductor my ticket to punch. I found a window seat open; sitting down gave me a moment to reflect on the happenings of the past day.
Why was I expelled? Well, during my time at Canterlot University (or CU, as everyone commonly calls it), I had been experimenting on the uses of banned magic. These magic spells include controlling a pony’s body, causing unbearable pain, and even instant death. You may be wondering why I was doing such illegal experiments. My reason was to find applications for these spells other than their original intents and purposes.
The spells had a history of corrupting even the kindest of ponies with the best of intentions. I felt the temptation to use such spells for personal gain, but I anticipated this based on my research prior to the experimental stage. To resist their corruptive nature, I started working on the weakest of these spells and build up immunity to the more powerful spells. Eventually, I was able to use the more powerful spells with the corrupting level about the same as the want for a cupcake after lunch.
Just today, I was called into the dean’s office on the suspicion I was doing these “illegal experiments.” The source was Richie, the son of Bigbucks, our family’s heaviest critics and the de facto leader of the “Superiors,” as I called the nobles who believe they’re better than everypony because of their “pureblood” nobility. Due to the nature of my transgression, Princess Celestia, Equestria’s diarch and President of Canterlot University, was called in. She interrogated me about my purposes of these experiments, so I told her of the precautions and the non-threatening use of the spells.
Celestia concluded that my purposes were pure, but the law would still stand. In lieu of prison, my punishment was expulsion from CU. I packed my belongings, returned my textbooks, and left the institute. While leaving, Richie must have tipped off the press to my actions prior to my meeting with the dean, as several ponies with notepads and cameras asked questions and took pictures. I ignored them, arriving at my house and opening the door.
And that concludes up until I arrived home. Hopefully, my mother can knock some sense into that Earth-pony-skulled head of his in the next few days or weeks. I only knew one thing: I would always hate those, especially nobles like the Bigbucks, who believed themselves more superior than the commonponies. For now, I was on my way to a new place full of new ponies.
I heard the conductor give his trademark cry, and the train chugged toward its destination. The rumbling of the wheels on the tracks were somewhat pleasant. Luna’s moon in the sky was a very splendid sight, as always. It seemed like my bias in favor of Princess Luna began when her elder sister Celestia began these events by expelling me. The vibrations slowly put me to sleep.
A sudden shaking roused me from my sleep. A mare next to me was telling me we were almost there. I let out a long yawn; the sun was already shining brilliantly with Ponyville in the distance. It took another half hour to get to the town’s train station. When the train stopped, I got out of the train with my small suitcase and proceeded to view this small town of Ponyville.
A pink pony came up behind me to welcome me into town. She told me her name was Pinkie Pie and that she wanted to be my friend. I saw no problem with it, especially with her random out-of-nowhere musical number. Since I needed directions, I asked her how to get to the address of Rarity’s house. Pinkie pointed me to the right direction, but what I saw didn’t convince me.
In front of me was a large gazebo-shaped building with a sign above the door that said in big letters CAROUSEL BOUTIQUE. I figured this must be her place of work, as she was a dressmaker. Slightly nervous, I made my way toward the door to my temporary home. I knocked on the door three times. Hearing hoofsteps was a good sign that she was up. The next moment surprised me.
She cracked the door open and said the store wasn’t open yet. I repeated the words my mother wrote in the letter. She then quickly opened the door fully, revealing the business portion of her home. Fitting rooms, mirrors, and manequines pervaded the area. She asked about my mother and why she sent me here.
But I was fixed upon the beautiful Rarity. Her snow-white fur, curled purple mane, that refined accent, and her wondrous eyes jumped out and attacked my mind. A thought of her in many sensual poses popped in my head, but I ignored it. She was a friend of my mother’s; in a way, she was off-limits to me. Her repeating the question she asked pulled me out of my daydreams.
I told her my story of how I was expelled, kicked out, and told by my mother to come to her house. She said I could stay as long as I needed and showed me to her spare bedroom she used only for guests. Three young voices downstairs alerted Rarity as she sped past me back to the showroom. I decided to follow and see what the cause of her actions was.
Downstairs, I saw three fillies: a yellow Earth pony, a burnt orange Pegasus, and a white unicorn. She asked how their “crusading” went when I came forward, curious to see who these girls were. Rarity introduced Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle to me, and the three loudly informed me of them being the Cutie Mark Crusaders and their purpose. I found it very amusing the three “blank flanks” were attempting to try so many things thinking maybe one of them could be their special talent.
Anyway, once Rarity told me that Sweetie Belle was her little sister, I remarked about my sister. Though we were close for a few years, she and I gravitated towards our “favorite” parent: me to my mother and her to her father. I thought now that this has happened, we will probably never see eye to eye again. My sister was a lost cause, poisoned by “his” words.
I had apparently been lost in my thoughts for a few seconds when Sweetie Belle asked why I was here. Rarity explained the situation, keeping a few tiny details from the filly. She left for her room and left me and Rarity alone in the entranceway. I decided to unpack while she started cooking lunch.
When finished, I lied on my bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about how long it would take my mother to let me return home. While I wanted to be back, this small town was worth exploring. This is one of the times where Mother would say to stop to smell the roses; basically, enjoy what you have while you have it. And that is what I intended to do.
Some time had passed since I arrived in Ponyville, and I was really enjoying what Ponyville had. Though it wasn’t anywhere near the level of Canterlot, it had a homey atmosphere. It reminded me of when I traveled to meet my Earth pony relatives in Dodge Junction. That’s another story for another time.
During that time, Rarity explained she was one of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, specifically the element of Generosity. I had heard of the Elements, but only heard that Twilight Sparkle was… that SHE was the one who saved Equestria!? I always thought she still lived in Canterlot, not in Ponyville.
A few days later, she introduced me to the other Elements bearers: Fluttershy, the element of Kindness; Rainbow Dash, the element of Loyalty; Applejack, the element of Honesty; Pinkie Pie, the element of Laughter; and Twilight Sparkle, the element of Magic. Seeing Twilight again after all these years surprised me as well as her; Rarity herself was shocked to hear we knew each other. Twilight and I then decided to talk about what’s happened since we met almost ten years ago (that story is also for another time). I told her of my years at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns and how I excelled at applied magic at CU, using existing magic to create practical uses.
Obviously, she regaled about how she met her friends, endured many trials, and saved Equestria from Nightmare Moon, Princess Luna’s corrupted form. She also told of the adventures she had just in this small town: parasprites, Winter Wrap Up, and stampeding buffalo. I listened to her stories intently, as she and I were very similar. I tried to tell her mine, but word travelled from Canterlot almost as fast as I did. Other ponies questioned at first, but got to know me a little better and stopped asking about it.
Also during the time, I grew closer to Rarity. The first month, we got to know each other fairly well; and halfway through second month, I asked her to dinner at Café du Mane, the only restaurant in Ponyville that had as close to Canterlot-class as it can give. She of course accepted. Rarity said I was handsome, caring, and sophisticated. But she did see and feel how I was clouded with years of hate toward “the one I once called Father.” She told me she would help change that, but only if I wanted it.
I was actually divided on this: either change my attitude towards him or keep hating him the rest of my days. Truthfully, I felt stronger because of the pain; it kept pushing me through each day. In a way, the pain was as much a part of me as my horn. Without it, I would be completely different; being a different pony than what I am today is what I had desired, if only to bring some semblance of success. I agreed she could help in the endeavor.
The two of us were the talk of the town. After a few weeks, even her friends liked seeing the two of us together (Applejack being the only one hard against us being together, but she got used to it, I guess). The Cutie Mark Crusaders would tease about us getting married, as most fillies their age would do (especially since Sweetie Belle led the teasing). Life in Ponyville seemed to be great. Nothing seemed to be wrong.
Another month passed, and Rarity and I had just returned from another wonderful night together. We gave each other a quick peck on the lips and sat down on the couch. We talked about how much we loved each other for about five minutes, then something caught my eye. I noticed in a stack of papers on her desk a familiar handwriting. I brought it closer with my magic; seeing it nearly paralyzed me.
Right in front of me was a letter from Mother. It was dated over a month ago. She wrote that I could come home now, apparent in her success in reversing “that stallion’s” decision. She also said in the letter that she hopes to see me soon, and as always, she concluded her letter saying she loved me. I was brought close to tears as I released my magical hold on the paper.
I questioned Rarity as to why I didn’t receive it and why she hid it from me. I was surprised, furious, and betrayed. Rarity explained that we were just getting started together when the letter came, and she was going to give it to me when the time was right. I asked her when that time was; she couldn’t answer, only cry.
Rarity eventually stated she wanted to know me better than she did at the time the letter came. It became clear when she placed her hoof on my face that her intentions, though questionable, were in my best interest. She told me of her wanting to help rid my heart and mind of the hatred toward “him” that I had.
Seeing her bawling her eyes out was difficult to watch, but I endured and went over to her. She knew we were going to break up, leave her, and return home, never to see each other again. She said my leaving was her punishment for hiding the letter. I pulled her head toward my chest and let her tears flow into my fur. I assured her, though I was very disappointed in her, I will never ever forget her; also, she would have no fear of not seeing me again.
Hearing those words had calmed her as she raised her head to mine. I tried to speak more encouraging words, but her lips on my cheek silenced me. No more words needed to be said.
A week passed since I found my mother’s letter. The day after I discovered Rarity hid it from me, she managed to convince me to stay until today before I went back. Till that time came, she still wanted me to change my ways. Needless to say, she succeeded. I was more optimistic than when I arrived.
Rarity just told me to free my feelings about everything I felt from him, the expulsion, and her dishonesty. She said to keep nothing hidden. Though it was difficult, I managed to keep my prone-to-happen outbursts in check, but the hate that spewed from my mouth would make even a mareiner blush with shame. Her “therapy sessions” were a great asset.
The day finally came when I had to leave. Rarity still wanted me to stay another week, but I told her if I did, she’d ask for another week, and so on and so forth. Though our relationship was rather brief, it didn’t prevent me from giving her a friendly kiss on the cheek. She had helped me find a part of me that had been lost for a long time.
We parted there at the train station. Another long train ride back to Canterlot began; I watched and waved as she did the same until I could no longer see her. I would miss her very much, but goodbye is not forever. I would most definitely see her again. Only fate will know when.
I arrived in Ponyville full of hatred toward many. I left Ponyville full of light. I would thank Rarity for digging myself up from the hate and pain. She cleaned me and set me on the right path.
Where that path will lead, as far as I can see from this coach car, is Canterlot. From there, home. I came to the door of my home and opened it, eager to begin anew.
Author's Note
I would like to thank you for reading it. I'm thinking Sol Shooter is my ponysona, as his early life is somewhat similar to mine. But anyway, comment, rate, and follow me if you enjoyed this.
