The Symposium

“It was a bright and hot Spring day and school was over. Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were en route to the Sugarcube corner, chatting about – well, chatting about what younglings usually chat about while strolling after a day of work; you know: mathematics, geography, literature, etc.”

…

What? Did I get it wrong? What’s worrying you? Oh, okay, okay, granted, that doesn’t sound much realistic, sorry!

Let’s chuck that out and start over. Ahem. So…

“It was once again a bright Spring day and school was definitely over. Our famous trio of bold adventurers, self-christened ‘the Cutie Mark Crusaders™’, were on their way to embark on a new awesome and perilous quest: gobble a maximal amount of those delicious sweets cranked out by lady Cake at the Sugarcube corner.

Still in the outskirts of Ponyville, Scootaloo suddenly stops and retches: “Yuuuuuckkk!”

“What’s up?” ask Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom together, surprised. “Do you feel sick?”

“No!” answers Scootaloo. “Just have a look over there!”

She points her hoof towards a nearby thicket where, half concealed by the dense vegetation, a colt and a filly, hardly older than our heroines, are fondling and kissing.

“Oooohhhhh…”, Sweetie Belle marvels, obviously fascinated. “That’s so cuuuuute.”

“You weenie! That’s disgusting! Gross!”, adds Scootaloo, scandalized. “How can you be so gushy?”

“I see nothing filthy in this”, protests Sweetie Belle. “It’s just about two ponies loving each other! Aren’t love and affection the nicest things in this world?”

“Not this kind!” answers Scootaloo. The three resume walking. “This is just… plain icky! And then, why do most ponies have to fall in love, after all? Aren’t we happy just on our own, without all that pawing and sloppy stuff?”

“That’s a good question!”, Apple Bloom chimes in. “You know what? Let’s ask the only pony able to answer such an inquiry here in Ponyville!”

“And who’s that pony-I-know-everything, miss Apple clown?”, croaks Scootaloo grumpily.

“Well, Twilight Sparkle of course! Twilight! Twilight!”, squeaks Apple Bloom, hopping around.

“Oh noooooooooooo, not her, please!” Scootaloo implores, crestfallen. “She is going to lecture us some namby-pamby lame theoretical explanation like she always does. No fun.”

“Come on, Scootaloo, quit being cranky! Let’s go and find out what she has to say”, proposes Apple Bloom merrily. “All right girls?”

“Okay, okay”, Scootaloo gives in, downbeat. “It’s no use to protest anyway…”

⁂

Toc toc!

“Oh! Our gang of ruthless minute barbarians!” Twilight Sparks marvels, opening the door. “You here? How come? You got lost? Or are you once again in the middle of one of your I-want-my-cutie-mark-so-badly spree?…”

Silence.

“Blah!” she laments. “Nowadays teens have such a measly sense of humor. But don’t loiter here, pipsqueaks! Come on, get inside and make yourselves comfortable!”

They walk inside the library and sit around the table. “So”, asks Twilight, “what is this impromptu visite about?”

“Impron…what?” chirp the three girls with one voice.

“Forget about it. I wasn’t expecting you, that’s all! So, what’s the matter?”

“We’d like to know”, answers Apple Bloom more sternly, “why do ponies fall in love with each other. Colts with fillies, and sometimes a colt with a colt or a filly with a filly also!”

“Oh! It’s a funny but clever question… and an interesting story, too. I’m sure you will be delighted to hear it. Spike!!!” she shouts.

Somewhere above the voice of Spike, startled: “Yes Twilight? Something wrong? Did I forget to clean your mirror?” A pause, then softly: “No, I’ve checked this task.” Louder: “Looking for a quill, maybe?”

“Would you please find the book called ‘Symposium’? It is old, thin, has a red cover and is written in strange characters. Bring it to me when you’ve located it!” orders Twilight.

“Okay Twilight, right away!” Rumbling and squeaking sounds. Some rummaging. “Hey! I’ve got it! But it’s not red, it’s blue!” Spike yells, triumphant.

Twilight’s horn shines as she obviously casts some sort of spell, and a frightened Spike flutters down, desperately clutching at the book. “Oh Spike, that’s so nice of you to join us! Have a sit!”. She breaks the spell, causing the baby dragon and the book to fall on the floor with a thump; “Ouch!”, lets Spike out in pain. Then, rubbing his scales: “Thank you, Twi’!”

The unicorn grasps the book, opens it, clears her throat and begins to read: “In days of yore, before princess Celestia was begotten, way before Discord’s harsh and age-long tyranny, there was a time when the ponies of Equestria were living a simple but joyful life. Earth ponies and unicorns, settled in small communities, tilled the land, while Pegasi cared about clouds and rain. All were happily enjoying their everyday communion with nature, the beauty of the seasons, the scent of the air at dawn and dusk, the magic of the stars at night.

But they were not exactly as we are : they possessed two heads, and eight legs. Furthermore, in this remote past, there existed three different genders: male, female, and simultaneously male and female. The ponies of this last gender, in fact most of the population, were called Uters.”

“Ponies with two heads and eight legs?” Scootaloo cuts in. “Male-female uuuwhat? What bunk is this?”

“Just listen to the story, would you?” grunts Twilight, annoyed. Mellower: “Nowadays, I guess we would call these male-female ponies ‘androgynes’ or ‘hermaphrodites’. But, let’s abide by the book name of Uters.

In line with their love of nature, these ‘ponies’ were worshipping the Sun and the Moon. They were organizing major feasts several times a year, to celebrate Spring, the beginning of Summer, the last day of the harvesting season and the longest night. Each time they made various offerings to their two deities, under the supervision of a great priest that was their only ruler. In return, the Sun and the Moon had always granted them lavish yields.

And it came to pass that one of these supreme priests ran off the path of wisdom: he became utterly arrogant and conceited. He decided that the folk should abandon his old worship, that he regarded as a preposterous superstition, and should instead revere him. The ponies, who where humble and obedient, turned slowy away from their ancient religion, and started to implore the priest, bestowing on him goods of inestimable price and bloody sacrifices.

But the Sun and the Moon grew angry and restless. One fateful night, they held a secret council, and decided to punish the priest for its egoism and vanity. They summoned all their magic and their wrath descended upon the land. They abducted the priest, and secluded him in a remote cave deep inside the earth; it is said that the cave is boundless and dark, and, far away, an exit glows; but each time one comes close to it, the exit magically moves to the other remote end of the cave, so that nopony can never escape.

The docile ponies were more leniently smitten: they were cloven in half, each inheriting one head and four legs of his former self. Thus the Sun and the Moon hoped they would mull over their wrongdoing, without harming them too much.

But each of the split-in-two pony had kept the vibrant memory and a yearning of his or her now severed compagnon. Both craved to be reunited. So everypony began to search for his or her sibling; and when two former halves – now only either male or female – would eventually meet each other again, they would snuggle, cuddle and fondle in a tight embrace, and then stick together, attempting to resuscitate the old days when they were but a single body.

And that, my little ponies, is why, since that ancient epoch, when we reach a certain age, many of us feel a deep longing, a sensation of emptiness, and set out on a quest to find their long lost counterpart, with whom they hanker to spend the rest of their lives. We call this ‘love’.”

⁂

Twilight Sparkle closes the book.

“I never heard such a bunch of hooey!” says Scootaloo shrugging. “I was sure you would come up with something sappy!”

“It’s a very sweet tale”, comments Sweetie Belle, bewildered. “Sweet but unlikely.”

“As for all legends”, Twilight remarks, “it stirs truth and imagination. It’s up to you to sift out what is what.”

“Well, not tonight. Guys, weren’t we supposed to sample some of the new candies miss Cake baked today?”, asks Apple Bloom, standing up.

“Yeahhhh!”, answer the other two fillies. “Goodbye Twilight, and thanks for the reading!”

They trot out; standing on the threshold, Twilight watches them receding, until they disappear behind a nearby house. She turns around, sighs, softly closes the door, and walks back to the living room.

“Twi’?”, asks Spike unexpectedly.

“Yes, Spike? What is it?”

“Do you think there were also ‘dranicorns’ along with these elder ponies? I mean: half-dragon, half-unicorn.”

“I don’t know”, giggles Twilight. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, never mind!” responds Spike, grabbing the book to put it back in place.