Life is an Unwritten Book

The first thing he heard was the sound of rain, and the first thing he saw was the rain pouring down from cloudy skies.  It had hardened since last night and the sound of it hitting the roof was almost enough to lull him back to sleep even though it had also just woke him up.  Written Script reached a hoof out from the blankets and felt a rush of cold wind hit it, quickly pulling it back underneath the covers and drawing it tightly to his chest, where it became warm again.  He sighed comfortably and readjusted his hoof before closing his eyes and thought about going back to sleep for a little while.

But something was wrong.  In readjusting his hoof he had touched something new under the covers.  Something that wasn’t him.  Written Script’s eyes shot open as he looked around the room.  Nothing was different.  But now he felt a slight weight on his side, the shifting of weight on the other side of his bed.  Written repositioned himself in the bed so that he was sitting up and looked next to him.  What he saw nearly made him jump out of the bed.

Carefully, quietly, Written Script moved himself off the bed and tiptoed quickly out of the room.  He traveled a short distance down the hallway to his writing room, where he opened the drawer and pulled out the notebook he had received from Twilight.  He opened and flipped the first few pages aside before settling on a certain passage.  He trailed his hoof down the page and found what he was looking for, reading it and rereading it numerous times before closing the book and setting it down in the drawer.  Without a word he walked back to the room and looked at the figure still lying in his bed.

She was beautiful.  It was a unicorn mare with a coat as white as snow and a flowing gold mane that shone like the metal even in the dim light of his room.  Her breathing was slow and rhythmic, gently raising and lowering the blankets as she continued to sleep.  Written Script took slow, tentative steps towards her, unsure if he was seeing things or if there actually was a mare in his bed.

He reached the edge of the bed and held out a hoof towards her, but he didn’t touch her.  He recoiled as the figure stirred and the mare’s eyes fluttered open, revealing deep violet pupils.  She looked around for a moment before looking at Written with a warm, gentle smile on her face.

“What’s the matter?”

Written Script could hardly contain himself.  “YOU’RE NOT REAL!” he shouted, panicked.

“Oh?” the mare said gently, seemingly unperturbed by Written screaming at the top of his lungs.  “I look pretty flesh and blood to me.  Go on.  If you’re so convinced, touch me.”

Written Script trotted around the bed until he came to the side the mare was lying on.  He ran a hoof through her golden mane, feeling the smooth locks fall over his foreleg.  He stroked her back, feeling the soft white coat.  He threw the covers off her and saw two overlapping hearts for a cutie mark.  He put both of his hooves up and gently pinched her cheeks between them, all the while the mare looked at him curiously though maintaining her smile.

After a while, Written Script put his hooves down.  “Where are you from?”

“I don’t rightly know, to be honest,” the mare said.  “I just know I appeared outside your bedroom door and that I was meant to be here.  I don’t remember anything of where else I came from.”

Written Script’s mouth was agape.  “Why are you here?”

“Why else?” the mare said as though it was obvious, though not chiding or condescending.  “So I could be here with you.”

“But you didn’t exist until a few hours ago!  You appeared practically when I was asleep!  How are… how is this… what are…”

The mare put a hoof to Written Script’s mouth with a slight chuckle.  “You brought me here.”

“I don’t understa—”

The mare tapped Written’s mouth again and the stallion fell quiet.  The mare got up out of the bed and trotted out of the room and back down the hall towards the writing room.  Written followed her curiously, watching her every move as she entered into the room and opened the exact drawer in the desk where the notebook was.  She opened and scanned the page – much like he had done earlier, Written noted – and pointed to him the passage where he wrote down her description exactly.

“You wrote this, didn’t you?”

Written Script nodded, not saying a word.  It barely processed to him.

“Then, you wrote me into existence.  I don’t know where I came from because I didn’t exist until a few hours ago.  I’m here because you wanted someone to be with you.  You poured your heart out onto that page… and so I came.  I hope you don’t mind, but I made a few adjustments to the cutie mark.”

“But…”  No matter what the mare said, Written Script was having trouble believing it.  “How?  There wasn’t any magic power in that notebook, was there?  I have a friend who is a unicorn who gave that to me, and she’s really good with magic.  She would have known if that book held any power.”

The mare shook her head.  “It wasn’t the book.  I know it sounds cheesy, but you wrote with such conviction that I just sprang right out of the page.”

Written Script’s eyes went wide.  “That’s not possible,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“But you have the results standing right here in front of you,” the mare said, voice matching his own.  She put a hoof to his chin and started stroking it gently.  “Is this not what you wanted?  Is this what you wrote as your dream and desire?”

Written Script felt his face get hot.  “Well, y-yes, it was…”

“Then why are you complaining?”

“B-Because yesterday I was just dreaming.  Now… I’m actually seeing, and I don’t know if I’ve woken up or am still dreaming.”

“Let me prove to you I’m not merely a dream anymore.”

Despite his own inner protests, not a word came out from Written’s mouth.  W-What is happening?  Why is she putting her hooves on my cheeks?  What is going on?  She’s coming closer.  Quick, Written, think!

But when her lips touched his, he forgot to think.  Her lips were warm, the touch was gentle, and Written Script could have melted where he stood.  He didn’t know how he managed to stay upright, just that things were finally going his way after the events of the last few days.

When she pulled away, Written Script found himself close to grinning like an idiot.  “But… I didn’t even give you a name.”

“Why don’t you give me one?”

“You think of it.  I brought you into existence, but you should be the one to determine your identity.”

The mare brought a hoof up to her chin.  “Well, I suppose Lady Amalthea wouldn’t be a bad name, or Amalthea for short.”

Written Script smiled.  “Lady Amalthea.  Why don’t I… write it down just to confirm it?”

‘Amalthea’ opened the notebook and Written grabbed himself a pencil from the nearby desk.  Carefully and neatly, he wrote down one line at the bottom of the previous journal entry.

Her name is Lady Amalthea.  And I’ve never been happier.