Gypsy Tales

by Gypsy The Teller

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, Main 6, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 9190

A wandering storyteller stops by Ponyville to share tales.

Gypsy has long traveled the lands of Equestria sharing the folk stories of the thestrals and now he's made his way to Ponyville.

Each chapter will feature a story and recipe for the sweets the characters share. They're simple slice of life stories that anyone can enjoy at any age.

This story takes place before the end of Season 4.

Published 2014-04-15 02:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-01 21:53:51 UTC

The farmer's two sons

The brightly colored vardo moved along slowly into Ponyville under cover of darkness, pulled by an aging earth pony. The tired old pony sighed as he hauled the beautiful red and yellow wagon into the town. The oil lamp above him gave off just enough light to navigate the darkened streets and cast shadows along the carvings of various different ponies of mythology that adorned the vardo.

His employer had hoped that this place would be welcoming, but long years on the road had convinced him that each and every place they stopped wouldn't harbor them for very long. His employer was a thestral after all, a creature of the night, and while the ponies of Equestria were ruled by both the sun and moon not all of them could set aside their fears.

"Here is fine, Old Muscat." came the thickly accented voice of his employer from inside the wagon. "This place is more than good enough."

Muscat had never really considered where the accent was from, though he guessed it was a mixture of many. They had traveled many places together and it was obvious that his patron had wandered all his life. The old earth pony finally came to a stop and pawed at the ground quietly, then looked up at the building he'd stopped by, reading the sign: Sugarcube Corner.

"Come inside and rest, old friend. I will tend to things while it is still dark enough for me to do so without scaring the locals." The thestral said as he opened the door of the wagon and stepped down to the ground. His coat was like ash, wings a deep black, and his mane was black with dark azure colored streaks through it but his most interesting feature were his golden colored eyes. He stretched his leathery wings, unfurling and spreading them wide for just a moment before bringing them back to rest at his sides.

Muscat nodded, completely unphased, and pawed at the ground again. He wasn't about to argue and he could certainly use the rest. "All right then, Gypsy." He said, looking at the ashen coated thestral. "Try not to cause any trouble while I'm resting, eh?" A grin touched his lips briefly as his patron moved out of the way of the entrance to the wagon and once he was completely out of the way he moved to step inside. "Goodnight."

"Yes, goodnight to you, old friend." The ashen stallion replied before turning to take care of his home, a light in an upstairs bedroom in the building behind him flickering to life unbeknownst to him.

Pinkie was excited. She could feel that slight tingling she always felt when there was someone new in Ponyville.

New friends! She thought blithely, the smile that started on her lips easily reaching her eyes. She was so happy that she could almost laugh. They're just outside!

The cotton candy maned pony bounced down the stairs effortlessly, somehow not making a single sound each time her hooves touched down. She knew, deep down, that this was going to be great. She always liked meeting new friends, new friends meant parties. Parties meant smiling, laughing, and enjoying the very best that life had to offer. Pinkie loved making friends.

She bounded across the floor and stopped by the door, peeking out at the strange pony. He had a short black and blue mane, possibly swept back with oil.

Oh, oh! Rarity would probably like that. Pinkie hushed the knowing giggle rising in her chest and studied the stallion a bit more. The mysterious pony's tail was cut short and matched his mane; he had an ashen grey coat and a book cutie mark with some kind of ornate gold clasp around it. She wondered about it briefly before she caught sight of his wings and her breath caught in her throat. She could hardly contain herself; Pinkie Pie just had to meet him now.

Gypsy sighed inwardly and finished hitching the wagon. He was happy for the cool autumn air, Nightmare Night would be coming soon and he thought that if he were lucky enough to still be in Ponyville when it came he might get to meet the Lady of the Night. He had heard rumor that the lunar princess visited Ponyville the year before and hoped for a repeat appearance.

The ponies that lived under Celestia's sun were mirrored by the thestrals that lived under Luna's moon, and her people truly loved her. He smiled looking up at the moon, the soft light reflected in his golden eyes. He had a good feeling about this place and he'd heard so many good things. This will be a good visit, he thought. He was sure of it.

A sudden click and the sound of a door opening ended any further thoughts and he spun around to find himself staring into a pair of large blue eyes. "OoooOOooo!" came the high pitched cooing sound. "Look at your eyes!"

Gypsy blinked out of his daze. Whoever this mare was, she had no idea what personal space meant and before he could respond she moved to his side and tugged one of his wings open.

"Oh! It feels just like velvet! Rarity likes velvet! Did you know your wings feel like velvet? Oh, I bet Twilight could tell us how it was made!" She wasn't even taking a breath as she continued and he found himself unable to get a word in. "Hi! My name is Pinkie Pie! What's your name?"

There weren't a great many things in the world that could stun him silent, but Gypsy couldn't help himself when it came to the pink mare before him. He looked her over briefly as he stepped back just enough to create a comfortable distance, tucking his wing back in at his side. "You... are not afraid of me?" He asked cautiously, suppressing the urge to smile.

"Of course not silly!" She chirped back, looking at him expectantly. She was practically trembling with nervous energy and now that he had a chance to get a good look at her he had to admit that he found himself wanting to get to know her.

The golden eyed stallion had met a great deal of people in his travels, but never one that gave off so friendly an aura as the curly haired mare in front of him. At least, none other than children.

"Ah... yes." The stallion replied, bowing his head slightly. "I am Gypsy the Teller. A traveling weaver of tales and wonder, and I am at your service." He smiled in spite of his previous attempts to control the urge and he felt her eyes on his fangs.

Clearing his throat, he looked off to the side the smile fading from his lips. "I did not wake you did I? I am sorry if that is the case." Much to his surprise, when he turned his eyes back on the pink mare she was smiling brightly.

Any brighter, He thought. And she will become another sun.

"You tell stories! That's so great! I love stories!" She started bouncing around him in what had to be the cutest display of childish excitement he'd ever seen. "I like cake too, and brownies, and cookies, and parties! But stories are really fun! Do you know lots of stories? Huh, huh, huh?"

Gypsy laughed softly, the smile returning to his lips and he gave up on fighting it. "I do." He assured her with a tone of great importance. "Maybe you would like to hear one?" He was glad that she was so friendly and even happier that his appearance meant nothing to her. There were a rare few ponies that he could call his friend, but he felt that even after this brief meeting he could name Pinkie Pie among them.

"I would!" She chimed. "But if you're going to tell a story then I should do something for you too!"

He watched as she considered how best to pay for a story that he would have given to her for free. The ashen stallion opened his mouth to tell her that she didn't owe him anything but was cut off by a cheerful squeal that signaled she had decided on payment.

"I'll make you some cookies! You can't have a good story without cookies." She finished with a look on her face that refused argument.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the pink mare herded him inside of the bakery.

"Come on." She said cheerfully, lowering her voice once she closed the door behind herself. "The kitchen is this way. You can help me, ok?"

Gypsy stared at her as she glided past him and shook his head in defeat. She's so good at setting her own pace. He thought as he started after her.

The storefront was simple enough, tables, chairs, a display case and a counter with a register. He'd seen so many places like this in his travels, but he could feel the warmth as well. The ponies that worked here cared about what they did and took pride in it.

"Pinkie," The golden eyed thestral began as they passed through the doors into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the light that the mare turned on as they entered. "Are you sure that it is all right for me to be here? It is so late at night and I don't want to impose." The room was simple and small, cozy even, and everything was in easy reach of the large island table in the center of the room.

Pinkie stopped behind the table and looked back over her shoulder at him. "It's fine!" The pink earth pony chimed. "I'm the only one here tonight and I said its ok, so it's ok!" She ducked under the table and started digging through several drawers, placing bowls and measuring cups onto the table.

The ashen stallion stared at the mare as she busied herself with the equipment she would need. He briefly considered putting up some small resistance to imposing on her further, but gave up on it entirely and moved closer to the table. "How can I help you?"

"We're going to make yummy apple oatmeal raisin cookies!" The sing-song quality of her voice did a lot to calm him and he couldn't help but smile again when she put more emphasis on "yummy" than she needed to. Pinkie had quite a few things laid out on the table already and smiled at him cheerfully before motioning to the sink with one of her forelegs like she was presenting him with a great prize. "There are some apples in the cabinet above the sink. Can you wash and cut them into little chunks?"

Gypsy nodded as he made his way to the sink and the cabinet above while his host made herself busy collecting ingredients and adding them to a large bowl. The cabinet opened with a slight creaking noise and he found a pair of apples in a bowl just as she said he would. He lifted the bowl and set it down gently on the counter as he turned on the faucet, the sound of water splashing into the sink filling the kitchen. He wasted no time washing each apple, setting each one back into the bowl before shutting off the water. To his surprise a knife and cutting board had simply appeared next to the bowl while he was busy.

I didn't even hear her move. He mused as he went about slicing up the apples. "Small cubes, yes?" He asked, already knowing her answer as he cut each piece.

"That's right." She chimed, and glanced over his shoulder at his work. "That's perfect."

Once he finished with the task and put the knife safely into the sink, he turned back toward Pinkie with the bowl of newly cubed apple chunks. She had quite a few things mixed into a bowl already and Gypsy could smell fresh cinnamon. Without a word she took the bowl of apple chunks from him and poured them into the bowl, stirring gently with a wooden spoon.

"While you are finishing there, I will tell you the story I've promised." He began, considering the proper story to tell her. "Have you ever heard the story of the farmer's two sons?" It was an old story and one that fell into disuse a little over a thousand years ago, but Gypsy loved to tell it just the same.

Pinkie shook her head excitedly, lips turning up into a large smile. "Tell me, tell me! I'm so excited!"

"Before I begin," The ashen stallion started, motioning above their heads toward the light with his foreleg. "My stories are best in little or no light. Can I ask you to put out the light?"

The question brought a confused look out of the pink mare, but she complied after placing the cookies into the oven to bake. With that out of the way, she settled down on her haunches behind the table to listen eagerly.

Gypsy smiled to himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He released it slowly while clearing his mind and as he always did when he told a story he imagined his cutie mark. He imagined the golden clasp giving way as the book opened and the story flooded into his mind as he opened his eyes.

Many moons ago two brothers lived with their father in a small

house in the wilds of Equestria.

The ashen stallion began, raising a foreleg up slowly with a little bit of a flourishing motion. He blew gently over his raised hoof and the magic dust on it flew into the air around them, a little bit of Zebra magic that Gypsy had picked up in his travels that he always used to great effect with his talents.

Pinkie watched, eyes wide with amazement as the golden motes of magic swirled between them changing into a pair of earth ponies and their aging father with little motes of light falling from each of them lazily like little falling stars. She laughed cheerfully and reached out touch them but they danced just out of her reach.

The younger brother worked hard and was kind to all he met.

The elder, knowing he was to inherit his father's prosperous farm,

was arrogant and proud.

The ethereal ponies shifted and dissolved briefly as the dust reformed into the younger brother working on the farm, tending the fields carefully and then to the proud elder brother ignoring his younger brother's work and refusing to let him have help.

He scorned his younger brother and ignored his aging father.

Every night after supper the father would say, "Remember, my

sons. What you plant, you will eat."

The golden motes of light changed into the younger son nodding at his father's words, eyes full of love and understanding while the elder son yawned and walked away leaving the father to watch him leave with sadness in his eyes.

Pinkie frowned watching the image of the elder brother float away and Gypsy smiled again, getting the reaction from her that he wanted. He directed the magic in the air around them with a twist of his hoof and the motes shifted, melting like sands being poured to the ground. A moment later they reformed, the two sons on either side of a bed and the aging father on it looking old and sick.

On his deathbed, the father beckoned the two brothers close

to him. "Remember, my sons. Nothing is as important as family.

Share this property and work together. I leave this land to both

of you."

The two sons moved closer to the father, the younger looking distraught and upset and the older looking only mildly put off. Their father shuddered on his bed and closed his eyes as his younger son cried and lowered his head.

The elder brother was furious. The law of the land said that

the elder son inherited everything. As soon as the funeral

ceremonies were past, he thrust the younger brother from their

home, ignoring the wish of his deceased father.

Pinkie gasped and watched as the two brothers argued until the younger was thrown from the property and the images melted away again. When they reformed, she saw the younger brother walking down a long road with his head low.

Heartbroken, the younger brother walked for many miles,

far away from his home and village, until he found an

abandoned farm that nopony wanted. He tended it carefully,

planting a small crop and sleeping in the ruined barn. By

saving and scraping, he managed to make enough money to

build a small home and make a profit.

The image shifted again under the ashen stallion's direction, reforming to reveal the younger son tilling and caring for his new farmland. The farmland improved and a house grew nearby, yet still the younger son toiled.

Soon, he was able to marry and have a family.

Glittering images of young foals soon joined the likeness of the laboring earth pony on the farm, while a youthful mare tended animals in a makeshift barn nearby.

One year, a drought overcame the land and the younger

son's crop failed. Without assistance, his family would starve.

Crops across the luminous fields withered and died without warning and the images of the ponies living them wept and struggled to save them.

Gypsy watched Pinkie remove the, now finished, cookies from the oven and set them aside to cool. The way she hurried made him smile and he was happy to see that she was interested to hear the rest of the story.

It broke his heart to hear his wife and foals moaning with

hunger in their sleep, so he went to his wealthy brother to

ask him to share some of the food that was grown on the

property their father had willed to them both.

The images swirled and changed again, showing the elder yelling at his younger sibling.

"It's my crop now," the elder brother bellowed with a cruel

laugh. "Go away!" So saying, he slammed the door in his

younger brother's face and locked it.

Pinkie frowned, watching the sparkling door close in the younger brother's face. There was a far off look in her eyes as she tried to empathize with the two siblings in the story. Gypsy could not have asked for a more imaginative and attentive listener as the frown on the pink mare's lips turned into an angry scowl. "Ooo! I don't like him! He's so mean!" The cotton candy maned pony finally interrupted. "Why can't he be nice to his brother? It isn't fair!"

The ashen stallion smiled knowingly and continued.

Brokenhearted, the younger brother turned away. As he

left the village, he heard a shrill cry from a tree above him.

A snake was attacking a baby bluebird.

Motes of light danced and weaved, painting the image of the younger brother looking up into a tree as the tiny bluebird flapped frantically trying to get away but it was too young to fly and fell to the ground instead. The younger brother lifted up the helpless baby in his hooves gently.

Its leg was broken, and so he tore a strip of cloth from his

saddlebags and set the bluebird's leg. When the snake finally

slid away, he returned the baby to its nest and went home to

his starving family. The next few weeks were hard. The younger

brother gave every spare scrap of food to his tiny foals, who

were so thin he could count their ribs. His wife walked over the

fields searching for any edible plants she could find, but her

harvest was always scant.

The increasingly tragic images flickered into and out of existence at the thestral's urging, the golden motes of light falling from them mournfully. Pinkie studied each scene in silence, wilting as if they were draining away her own joy and Gypsy offered her a small reassuring smile before he continued.

Then one day a tiny bluebird flew to their home and landed

on the thatch. It was the baby bluebird that the younger brother

had rescued. Leg now healed and able to fly, the bluebird sat

on the thatch and sang a merry song of thanks to the marveling

family. Then it circled the younger brother's farm three times and

slipped off into the starry night sky, the moon rising proudly

above the humbled earth pony family.

Pinkie watched as the glittering bluebird disappeared into the image of the full moon and couldn't help but feel the beginnings of a smile touch her lips. The glittering earth pony family looked happy now and that was enough for the pink mare to feel happy for them.

The shimmering moon trembled as the motes of light that made its center fell away gently, leaving behind the unmistakable shape of the Princess of the Night.

"Thou art a kind pony, noble cultivator of the land." said the

Moon. "We have decided to grant unto thee a boon. For so

long as thy family dwell amongst the fields and keep the values

of harmony shall they respond to thine own authority. Thy

harvest shall always be bountiful." And as quickly as she had

appeared, she was gone.

The starving family watched in awe as their barren fields

suddenly blossomed to life under the light of the full moon

and within minutes the fields were full of melons.

"Father, father! Can we eat them?" cried the hungry

children. Laughing in delight, the younger brother pulled a

melon off the vine and split it down the center with his hoof.

Offering it to his family, he said, "Give thanks, my family, to

the protection of Sun and Moon and always be harmonious."

The motes of light swirled happily around the room, tickling Pinkie's nose and bringing a light giggle to her lips, before settling again into an image of the elder brother's farm in disrepair. The images changing as Gypsy spoke, following his words.

Many years passed and the younger brother's farm

continued to be prosperous while drought and insects

ravaged the elder's farm. Unable to see beyond his own

pride, the elder brother refused to ask for help and eventually

ran away from his ruined house and lands. Poorer even than

his younger brother had once been, he wandered from village

to village, begging for food. One day, he looked up from his

begging and saw his younger brother standing a few feet away,

holding a hoe. Ashamed, the elder brother looked down,

until the blade of the hoe landed on the ground beside his hooves.

"I have lost everything," the elder brother said, staring at the

blade of the hoe. "I have no place to go. No food. I won't blame

you if you send me away too."

He felt a gentle hoof on his shoulder. "Come, brother," the

prosperous farmer said. "Let us sew a new crop, together.

For what we plant, we will eat."

The elder brother looked up with tears in his eyes and

accepted the hoe from his younger brother.

With the story finished, the magic keeping the motes of light active faded and they fell harmlessly to the floor before disappearing. Gypsy had been keeping a close eye on Pinkie since he started his story and he found her lost in thought with her forehooves crossed. "Is something bothering you, my friend?" he asked gently, not wanting to break her mood.

The curly haired pony snapped out of her reverie and shook her head sharply. "Nuh uh!" she exclaimed, the bright smile returning to her features. "I really liked that Gypsy! It sounded like a super duper old story and Princess Luna was in it! I've never heard any stories with her in them! Are there more?"

"Of course," he replied, bowing his head. "I will be in town for as long as I am welcome, so there will be many nights for me to share those stories."

Pinkie beamed with delight. "I'll bring some friends!" she exclaimed and swiped one of the, now cooled, cookies from the wire rack she had them resting on. "And now for my end of the bargain," she said, motioning grandly to the cookies. "Help yourself!"

It was the ashen stallion's turn to smile as he bowed his head in thanks and took one of the cookies. Ponyville, He thought to himself as he took a bite and savored the delicate flavors. Is a wonderful place if the ponies here are even half as accepting as Pinkie Pie.

"Well?" the pink mare asked with an expectant look on her face.

"Wonderful." Gypsy replied. "You will let me buy some from the shop tomorrow, yes?"

"Sure! I'm glad you liked them." she said, moving the remaining cookies into a paper bag that she brought out from under the table she'd been sitting at. "You can have the rest of them, but you gotta promise to share them with your friend."

"I will do just that." the stallion said. "Old Muscat will like them very much, I think. Though, I think I should retire for the evening. I have a long day ahead of myself."

The two ponies said their goodnight to one another and Gypsy returned to his wagon for the evening, much happier than he'd felt in a long time. He felt luck turning in his favor and could only look forward to the days to come.

Author's Note

The story, The farmer's two sons, was adapted from a Korean folk tale of the same name for this story and if you liked the version of it that I've told here then, please search out the original and give it a once over.

For those of you that were unaware while reading, bluebirds are a symbol for hard work and spiritual joy.

And now for the cookie recipe!

Ingredients
1 – 1/2 cups old fashioned rolled oats
1-1/2 oz box of raisins
1/3 cup butter, softened
2/3 cup light brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt

In a large bowl combine butter, egg, sugar, extract, cinnamon and salt.

Add baking soda and oats, mix well.

Add flour and raisins, mix well.

Peel, core and dice one red delicious apple, mix well into batter. (Any apple will do, depending on your personal tastes)

On an ungreased cookie sheet, please a large dollops of cookie batter spaced an inch or two apart.

Bake at 350 degrees F for 13 – 15 minutes.

The Soul Singer

There were few things in life that made Muscat curse his luck and only one that made him do it on a regular basis, so when he finally swore under his breath after he'd finished speaking with the mayor of Ponyville he made perfectly sure that no one was close enough to hear him.

Sun and Moon, he thought in frustration. He always does this to me. He knows I hate it too!

The old tan coated earth pony had spent most of the morning making sure that his employer had permission to set up his wagon in town and the mountain of paperwork that came with it. He was surprised to see that the mayor and her assistants didn't seem to mind or even care that his employer was a thestral. It had even seemed like the ponies of Ponyville had already been exposed to some in the past, which he had found strange since his employer's kind had only recently reemerged within the last few years from the mountainous depths that they called home.

Muscat shook his head in indifference and made his way back through town. Ponyville seemed to be a good place and he couldn't help but think that maybe he might be sticking around long enough to sell some of the wine he brought from home for a change.

That's not really a problem, is it? he thought to himself as he made his way past the shops in the square. Sure, it was less wine in his belly, but the extra money couldn't hurt and Muscatel went well with just about anything sweet. Nah, it isn't. Less problem than all this sunlight.

The old tan earth pony raised a hoof to shield his eyes and scowled, ignoring the looks he got from other ponies. Spending so much of his time traveling at night was starting to affect his vision and attitude but he was happy that Gypsy had returned to the vardo last night with a smile on his face. That pink mare he met had left quite the impression on his employer and the cookies were good too. Meeting her again would mean more junk food and that sounded even better now that he thought of the bottles of wine tucked away safely in the vardo.

"Muscat," he muttered to no one in particular. "Shut up and enjoy the ride, eh?"

Twilight Sparkle had always considered herself a patient pony. She prided herself on always being available for her friends and took pleasure in sharing in their lives and problems. There were times, however, when she remembered the peace and tranquility that came with being a shut-in. Times when she wished she could spend her entire day learning about whatever subject interested her the most at the time. Days long gone when she would get up in the morning and, at her mentor's urging, open herself to whatever teachings that the Princess wished to impart.

She remembered days before Pinkie Pie would burst into the kitchen of the Golden Oaks Library before anypony had the good sense to be awake with enough pep to make even a morning pony want to shove the excited mare into a closet and keep her there until they downed enough coffee to finish waking up.

"Twilight, Twilight! There's a new pony in town and he's a story teller! He tells reeeeally neat old stories and the one he told me last night had Princess Luna in it!" Pinkie exclaimed, bouncing in place the way she always did when she'd been waiting for more than an hour to tell somepony something.

The weary alicorn sighed into her cup of coffee, and stared into the liquid like she wanted to crawl into the comforting heat it gave off. She had no idea what time it was, but she knew it was too early for this. "Pinkie..." She began tiredly, setting her cup of coffee down on the table.

Story teller. Bard, a poet and musician. Her mind was already at work grasping hungrily at the reasoning behind each word as the gears began to turn. Áes Dána, an artist and genealogist. Seanchaí, a bearer of old lore. Old lore.

"Did you say he told you an old story about Princess Luna?" A look of confusion spread across the young alicorn's face. She couldn't have heard that right. All of the ancient lore concerning Princess Luna had been long forgotten or hidden away generations ago after the lunar rebellion.

Pinkie stopped bouncing in place and nodded. "Uh huh. Maybe he knows more about her because he's a thestral?" she questioned, tilting her head gently to the side.

Twilight stared blankly at her friend for a moment, noting that the cotton candy maned pony had a terrible habit of leaving out information that changed the shape of the opinions others would form about the statements she made. This particular omission changed quite a bit. It was rare for a thestral to travel outside of their ancestral lands and even rarer for them to share their folk stories. This could be a great opportunity to-

"HelloooOOooo Twilight?" Pinkie asked, leaning in uncomfortably close. "You silly filly! You're staring off into space again. You should pay attention to the ponies you're talking to."

The embarrassment spread across the alicorn's face in a rush. "Oh! Um..." she squeaked, resisting the urge to facehoof. "Sorry, Pinkie." she finished, offering a smile that she hoped would help her diffuse the awkwardness of the situation.

"Don't worry about it!" Pinkie exclaimed a bit too cheerfully. "So anyway, his name is Gypsy and I wanted to bring him around later tonight to share a story."

Twilight nodded. "I'd like that. I'll have Spike help me with something sweet to snack on while we listen."

"Great!" the pink mare chimed, picking up her friend's cup of coffee. "You going to drink this?" she asked, before taking a sip anyway. "I have to get back to the bakery! See you later Twilight!"

The young alicorn raised a hoof to her face and sighed as the earth pony hurried away, still in possession of her warm and comforting java. Mornings in Ponyville were certainly never boring, especially when her friends were involved but at least the night promised to be interesting.

The day went on as it always did, with busy ponies going about their busy lives. The addition of Gypsy's vardo in Ponyville square was met with the usual curious glances and friendly greetings found anywhere in Equestria. In truth, Gypsy could not have been happier about it. The ponies of Ponyville were friendly beyond words and didn't seem to care in the least about his appearance.

The evening performance went better than he thought it would, and there was a decent sized audience, including three overenthusiastic fillies that had interrupted him more times than he'd ever been at any other performance. He had to admit, however, that their eagerness to hear and question his story made him feel blessed.

With his story complete and Muscat milling through the receding audience for whatever they intended to offer him in return for the story, Gypsy turned to retire to the vardo but found himself face to face with Pinkie Pie.

"Boop!" she exclaimed, touching the surprised stallion's nose gently with an outstretched hoof. "Hi Gypsy!"

The ashen thestral choked on the yelp of panic that was building in his throat, his eyes wide and wings half flared in shock. "Pinkie!"

The curly haired mare leaned back onto her haunches and covered her muzzle with her hooves, trying to contain the giggle that erupted from deep inside her belly and ended with a snort. "I'm so sorry!" she cried, still fighting down fresh laughter. "I didn't mean to scare you, but you should see yourself!"

Gypsy could feel the embarrassment creep across his face, his coat doing nothing to hide the widening redness. His wings returned gently to his sides. The way she laughed made it easy to imagine how silly he must look, and a laugh escaped him before he could stop it. The two shared the moment as only friends knew how; his deep rumbling laughter joining her high pitched giggling.

"I'm glad to see you are enjoying yourself, my friend, and happier still that you came to see me again. Are you here for another story?" he finally asked when the laughter ended.

"Uh huh!" the pink mare exclaimed. "But not here, ok? I wanted to introduce you to my friend Twilight."

"Twilight Sparkle? The newly ascended princess?" Gypsy asked, mildly surprised. He had known that the Sun's protege resided in Ponyville, it was hard not to know that there was a famous pony in Ponyville, but he never expected the have the opportunity to speak with her.

Pinkie nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I talked to her already about bringing you over and she said she'd make snacks."

"I would be honored to perform for you both." The ashen thestral said with a bow of his head and a flourish of one of his forehooves. "Lead the way, my friend."

The walk toward the Golden Oaks Library was a quiet one. Gypsy had a lot on his mind and he was surprised to see that his hyperactive friend could read the mood enough to let him alone with his thoughts. He wondered just what kind of pony Twilight Sparkle was and he couldn't help but feel intimidated.

This pony has saved Equestria on numerous occasions, he thought. She's faced off against serious threats and come out on top. She's famous throughout the land, a hero.

The ashen thestral glanced at the pink mare beside him sidelong. It did not occur to me that this mare was her friend. Does that mean she's also faced those same threats? A faint smile touched his lips and he couldn't help but shake his head to relieve the tension that he'd felt just moments ago. I hope they'll tell me their stories. I would be honored to tell them to others wherever I go.

The pair stopped in front of the entrance to the library and Pinkie knocked some absurd little tune against the door, much to the amusement of her companion. It was a few moments before the door opened to reveal a small purple dragon.

"Oh, hey Pinkie." the dragon said warmly. "Twilight is already inside waiting."

Gypsy bowed his head in greeting to the little dragon. He had seen a few in the past that were much larger and far more intimidating so he didn't feel any trepidation. Pinkie, on the other hand, grinned cheerfully and bound over him into the library. "Thanks Spike!" she said in passing, leaving the tiny drake behind with a look of embarrassment on his face.

"So uh," he began as he moved aside to allow the thestral in to the library. "You're the storyteller that set up outside of Sugarcube Corner?"

"Yes," the stallion replied as he stepped inside, glancing back over his shoulder so as not to break eye contact. "I am called Gypsy the Teller, and I am at your service." he finished with another little bow of his head.

"Neat." the dragon said awkwardly. "So anyway.. I'm Spike the uh.. dragon?" he grimaced in the way children do when they wanted to laugh at some joke they were certain would be seen as inappropriate. "Twilight said you were going to tell a story tonight?"

The drake looked cautiously to the side as the two stood there just inside the doorway. "This isn't gonna be like, nonfiction right? Twilight likes that kind of stuff but I'd rather sleep in my bed, if you get what I mean.."

"But of course!" the ashen thestral said, chuckling. "I think I have something suitable to your tastes, my friend."

"Great." the tiny drake replied with a grin. He opened his mouth to speak further but was cut off by the high pitched giggling of Pinkie Pie coming from further inside the library and the voice of Twilight Sparkle.

"Pinkie! Pinkie wait!" the alicorn's voice filled the hall as Spike and Gypsy moved into the room properly to find the pink mare sitting comfortably on her haunches in front of a low table, spooning out the last of what looked like chocolate pudding from the inside of a long glass. Twilight stood nearby with a mildly exasperated expression on her face. "You were supposed to wait so we could all eat together, Pinkie!"

"But Twilight!" Pinkie began with a wide smile. "YouknowIlovewhenyoumakecoffeemousse!"

Twilight threw up her hooves and let out a frustrated growl. "You're impossible!" she exclaimed, as the curly maned pony stuffed her muzzle into the glass and tried desperately to lick at what little remained of the mousse.

Gypsy couldn't help but smile at the two mares, and looked down at Spike for direction. The drake shrugged as if to say that this sort of thing was a normal occurrence and cleared his throat loud enough for them to hear.

"Oh! Hello!" the purple alicorn chirped, an awkward smile on her face. "You must be Gypsy, please come in! I'm sorry but Pinkie started snacking without us." she finished, her frustration with her earth pony friend gone as quickly as it appeared.

The ashen thestral shook his head as he moved closer to the pair with Spike following at his side. "There is no need to apologize. She has quite the way about herself, doesn't she?"

Pinkie pulled her face out of the cup, licking a bit of the mousse off her nose. "But it was just so good! Like spring showers and gumdrops!"

"So it would appear, my friend." the ashen thestral said, smiling. "Come, let us make ourselves comfortable and I will begin."

"Oh, just a moment." Twilight said, a violet colored light surrounding her horn as she summoned several similarly glowing pillows from another room and piled them neatly in front of each of the ponies, and the drake, in the room. "I have some more mousse set aside for you, if you want to have it now." she finished and settled down on one of the pillows comfortably, the young dragon resting his head against her barrel.

"I'll wait until I am finished." Gypsy said shaking his head. "But, if you do not mind, can you turn off the lights?"

A look of confusion spread across the alicorn's face, but it was dispelled by an encouraging grin from Pinkie Pie as the earth pony settled down on a pillow next to her friends. Twilight needed no further encouragement and the light from her horn was soon the only source of light in the room, until that too eventually dimmed to nothing.

Gypsy gave his new friends some time to adjust to the scarce amount of light in the room before he finally spoke, taking the time to prepare himself for the storytelling. He could almost feel the clasp on his cutie mark slide open and the book it protected open to its center.

"This story," he began, his tone firm and confident. "Is a tale that has been told by my people for more than a thousand years. A story from a time long forgotten, when the power of faith and the science of magic we not so dissimilar."

"Now, my friends, listen as I tell you the tale of the Spirit Singer." he finished, flicking his hoof gently to spread his magic sand into the air around them. The magic took hold immediately and the luminescent sands swirled and churned about the ponies, and drake, until it burst and spread outward; appearing as a small village until a starry sky.

"Cool." Spike whispered, staring with the wide eyes of youth at the scene before him.

It was midnight. The streets of what would become Manehatten grew silent as citizens turned off their lights one by one and go to their well-earned rest. The night was dark, and the wind whispered softly, touching the trees and houses, rattling a window pane here and there.

In one house, an earth pony mare sat beside her window, waiting silently for a physician to arrive. Her beloved husband rested on the bed next to her. In the light of a single candle, she could see his emaciated face. He was in terrible pain, which even the medicines given to her to could not abate.

The glowing motes of light were quick to follow the direction of the ashen thestral, painting the images into the air as he spoke them. He spared a moment to judge the reactions of his audience and found them watching with curious attention.

She clutched his hoof tightly, feeling the cold as it crept through it. He was barely breathing now and she knew that he was slipping away. One part of her was thankful, for she couldn't bear to see him in so much pain. Most of her wanted to scream out in desperation, begging him not to leave her alone.

Outside of the house, the soft but unmistakable sound of a feminine voice raised in song echoed throughout the still night, though the language of the song was unknown to all but the singer. Her husband had told her that she would come for him that night, but she hadn't believed him. Hadn't wanted to believe him. Yet there she was, moving slowly up to the front of the house to stop by the front gate.

The figure outside of the shimmering home was none other than Princess Luna. She had a look of great sorrow on her face as she sung, though no words could be heard. Twilight watched the scene with a look of rapt curiosity, her young charge resting against her with a pensive look all his own. Pinkie huddled a bit closer to her friends as she listened, wearing a look of sorrow on her face though it looked so very out of place.

The sight terrified her and she clutched her husband's hoof tightly. He opened his eyes and smiled feebly at her, trying to squeeze her hoof affectionately.

"Is she here?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. She nodded.

"I love you." he said to his wife. She leaned down and kissed him, feeling his last breath on her lips. The grip on her hoof loosened, and she knew he was dead. She straightened up, looking tenderly at his dead face through her tears.

Pinkie's sorrowful expression turned mournful, as Gypsy had expected. In truth, he appreciated having somepony like her nearby when he told his tales. Her empathy was strong enough that she could be carried off by the images before her, and that in turn was sometimes enough to pull in those around her.

Twilight wore an expression of curiosity, a strong desire to ask why. She seemed like she wanted to interrupt, but thought better of it in favor of asking her questions when the story was finished. She was another kind of pony that Gypsy liked to have around when he told his stories. She would ensure that a dialogue would open and the idea behind the story would be discussed.

The ashen thestral glanced at Spike, offering a reassuring smile to the young drake.

A wisp of light near the door took the grieving widow's attention away from her deceased husband and standing there was the spirit of her beloved. He gazed at his body first and then opened his mouth to say something to her but no sounds could leave the lips of the dead so he just smiled at her. It was then she realized that the singing from outside had ended and from the door came a firm knock.

Though she was frightened she opened the door and the Soul Singer entered the home, the soft light of her magic casting shadows about the room. "Be not afraid, my little pony." the singer said, giving the mare a sympathetic look. "The day is done and darkness falls from the wings of night. This stallion will enjoy mine own protection and pass from the world of ponies in peace."

The pair then turned from the grieving widow and stepped out into the night. The spirit that was once her husband turned to face her one last time and waved gently, offering a look of regret before turning to follow the singer and slowly the two walked down the lonely street and into the darkness.

"Goodbye, my love." the lonely mare called softly when they were finally out of sight. Her husband's pain was over, but her own had just begun. With a heavy heart she closed the door and returned to the bedside where her husband's body remained to weep.

Gypsy paused for a moment, letting the image of the crying mare fade with a gentle hissing sound as the magic sands dissipated into nothing. Out of all the stories that he had memorized, this had always been his favorite. It felt so very much like a promise from the Princess of the Night to her people and he was sure that even in her exile she had kept that promise. He offered a reassuring smile to his audience before finally speaking, adding something to the story that he felt belonged.

Mourn and know that thou art loved, for the night protects thee and thine until the end of days.

"Now, my friends," the ashen thestral began as Twilight turned the light back on. "What did you take from the story I told? What did it mean to you?"

"It was pretty cool, but kind of sad." Spike said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Can Luna really do that? With souls and stuff, I mean."

"I'm not so sure about that, Spike." Twilight answered, her mind already at work. "It is true that through certain types of magic a pony can damage their own soul and most of those magics fall into the dark magic category, what this story describes is something a bit more fantastic."

"It is reasonable," she continued, completely unaware that she was rambling out loud. "To assume that Princess Luna can use her magic to reach into the astral realm. Ponies once believed that the cosmos was divided into a triple hierarchy: material, celestial, and divine. Material being the kind of magic that any pony could access, such as levitation for unicorns, flight for pegasi, and the more vague natural magics of earth ponies."

"Celestial magics involved rituals that required precise mathematical equations and the alignment of certain stars, while divine magics were above the understanding of ponies and therefore something untouchable in nature." she said, pausing to consider for less than a second. "Even considering all of that-"

"Boop!" Pinkie exclaimed, tapping her friend on the nose gently. "Equestria to Twiiiilight~!"

The alicorn blinked, stunned by the pink mare's touch. "Ah..?" she squeaked, a look of complete bewilderment on her face.

"We almost lost you, silly!" Pinkie said, giggling cheerfully. "You were talking on and on about lots of really hard stuff and I don't think anyone knew what you were saying."

"Oh," Twilight responded, ears drooping in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry... I got carried away." she said, looking off to the side in an attempt to recover. "What did you take from it, Pinkie?"

"Well," she began, a thoughtful look in her face that seemed a bit out of place. "Maybe that death doesn't have to be scary and that the Princess loves everypony enough that she wanted to be there for us when we might be really, really afraid?"

"Yeah," Spike agreed. "I kind of like that. Princess Luna guides us all on that last journey."

"It is a pretty thought," Twilight agreed. "And it agrees with the belief that some ponies have about Celestia being a representative of the energies of life." she said, smiling. "What do you take from it, Gypsy?"

The ashen thestral returned her smile, a nostalgic expression settling in on his face. "I feel in a similar manner to Pinkie." he said gesturing toward her. "From that story, I have always felt love."

"Ready for that mousse?" Twilight asked cheerfully.

"Yes, I think that I am. Thank you." Gypsy replied, taking a moment to make himself comfortable on one of the pillows Twilight brought into the room earlier.

It didn't take long for Twilight's magic to float the treat across the room, tray and all. "Here you are," she said. "And thank you for sharing your story with us tonight. I really enjoyed it."

The ashen stallion accepted the treat with a gracious nod and as he enjoyed it he couldn't help but feel happy. The night had gone well and he hoped that, with his new friends, there would be many more to come.

Author's Note

Hello and thank you for reading!

Today's story within the story is based on an American folk story called the Death Coach. It took a little work to fashion in into what you've read here and I hope you enjoyed it.

I was also tempted to add a poem called The Day is Done, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, to the story.. which I will add here in the notes since it fits so well and I've already adjusted it to suit ponies.

The day is done, and the

darkness falls from the wings of night,

as a feather is wafted downward

from pegasi in their flight.

I see the lights of the village

Gleam through the rain and the mist,

And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me.

That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,

Some simple and heartfelt lay,

That shall soothe this restless feeling,

And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo

Through the corridors of time.

For, like strains of martial music,

Their mighty thoughts suggest

Life's endless toil and endeavor;

And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,

Whose songs gushed from his heart,

As showers from the clouds of summer,

Or tears from eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,

And nights devoid of ease,

Still heard in his soul the music

Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have a power to quiet

The restless pulse of care,

And come like the benediction

That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume

The poem of thy choice,

And lend to the rhyme of the poet

The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,

And the cares, that infest the day,

Shall fold their tents, like the Saddle Arabians,

And as silently steal away.

Lastly.. the recipe!

Prep Time: 10 minutes
Cook Time: 30 minutes
Chill: 2 hours
Total Time: 2 hours, 40 minutes
Yield: 8 servings of coffee mousse

Ingredients:
2 cups evaporated milk
2/3 cup strong coffee
2/3 cup brown sugar
3 egg yolks
1 envelope unflavored gelatin, softened in 3 tablespoons cold water
1 ½ cups heavy cream

Preparation:

In a medium saucepan, combine the evaporated milk and coffee; cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, until it just starts steaming. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and brown sugar.

Add ½ cup of the hot milk to the egg mixture, whisking constantly, until the mixture is thoroughly combined. Add the warm egg-milk blend back into the hot milk in the saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture reaches 165 degrees on a digital candy thermometer. Remove from the heat and stir in the softened gelatin. Chill the coffee custard thoroughly.

Beat the 1 1/2 cups of cream in a separate bowl until stiff peaks form. Thoroughly stir ½ cup of the whipped cream into the chilled custard, and then gently fold in the remaining cream. The coffee mousse is ready when the custard is thoroughly incorporated into the whipped cream, and no marbling shows. Serve the mousse chilled.

This coffee mousse recipe makes 8 servings.