My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic--One Last Race.

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8

Chapter 1

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic—One Last Race.

John O Smith.

PREFACE

I have recently come into contact with this modern version of the ponies, and I felt awkward to know that I seem to have become a Brony without even trying. The show is so much better and well-written than what first existed. I would say that this show was far more than for young girls, and is really good enough for anyone to enjoy. I have been getting up to speed on the episodes and I think I am getting the feel for this. If I have not quite, please forgive me, but I will attempt to stay true to the characters and make an enjoyable tale. For this story, I wanted to examine this by telling a story very loosely based on the life of the legendary racehorse named Secretariat, and what his story would have been like if it had taken place in the MLP universe. Though I will change his name, this story will be set with him in retirement and seclusion, looking to settle in Ponyville under his true name and looking to become the school's local track and field coach, and what happens when he is discovered by the central ponies for who he is. I hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

It was now early May, and Winter Wrap-Up was now a memory for the year. Though Princess Twilight had her own kingdom and castle now, a part of her heart still rested in Ponyville, considering her best years had been spent there. Indeed, now that her friends were a part of her royal court, they still maintained their hometown ties, and Twilight decided to transfer the library at the ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters to her new home. Just because she was a princess and proper now, she still wanted to keep something going for Ponyville. This then made her library huge, and there would be many books to read and learn from available to her. She came in with her ever faithful friend and companion, Spike, and her pet owl Owlowicious, ready to get to work on setting up the place and readying it for public use. Spike moaned a touch and said, "Honestly, I don't see why we should have to be the ones to clean up. I mean, you're a princess and all now; why not just send some servants to clean up?"

"Spike, we went over this already," she said, rolling her eyes, "I may be a princess, but I am still perfectly capable of taking care of something like the library. Besides, a filly sometimes needs a place to retreat to and call her own; a place of quiet and solitude when she needs it."

She had just finished saying this as she opened the door to the library, expecting to see an empty place ready for patrons. However, when she swung the door open, she was assaulted by confetti, silly string, and streamers. Loud music was playing from the phonograph, and a hearty, "SURPRISE!" followed. Twilight was shocked as Spike and Owl nearly crawled out of their skins to the sudden surprise. The place had been decorated for a party, with everything clean and put in its place. Pinkie Pie, of course, was bouncing off the walls, yelling, "Welcome to your new library…well, this really isn't new, though it kind of is, since you'll be staying here, but really it's your castle already, but that doesn't mean you can't have a housewarming away from home…warming…thingy…you know what I mean. Anyway, welcome!"

She started breaking into a welcome song, dealing with how it is a special new home and what it meant to her, her friends, the whole town, and other such things. She finally calmed down and said, "We all agreed that it would be nice to have a party to welcome home our friend, since we were able to get here ahead of you and all."

Twilight was a touch annoyed at first that her plans for the day had been thrown askew, but then she just sighed and smiled, saying, "Thank you so much for the greeting, but I figured that…"

"…that you would have to clean and tidy?" finished Rarity as a question, "Oh, of course not, darling! After all, you are a princess now, and we are your court, so it was only right for us to come here and tend to the needs of our liege-mare and…"

"Rarity," mildly scolded Twilight, "You also happen to be my close friends. I would have never insisted on you becoming my servants. I would never want to think of you that way. Please, I know there is certain decorum when we have an official court, but like this, it's okay just to be ourselves and casual."

"Yeah," said a smiling and confident Rainbow Dash, "That's the way everything should be."

She started to strut about in mock formality, saying in an exaggerated air, "Besides, the whole pomp and circumstance thing is so stuffy and stiff."

She went back to herself and then said, "They all seem to be putting on a show, trying to kiss up to you and get close to you."

"Believe me," said Twilight, "After the time I spent with Princess Celestia, I learned a long time ago what that was all about. Trust me, because of her, I can spot a phony a mile away."

Yet, Rainbow Dash sighed and said, "But why do WE have to act like that? Who made up all those dumb rules, anyway? Best to be yourself, I say."

"Well, y'all have to admit," added Applejack, "It does get a bit boring and irritating, but there is sumpthin' to be said about good manners and all. It's jus' what they call polite, I guess, and Granny Smith always taught me to try to play by the local rules and such."

She had remembered how all that went during her time in Mane-hattan, and though she was not all that comfortable for her, she knew how to keep her mouth shut and play the game. Fluttershy then dared to add in a quiet voice, "Well, sometimes, they can be a bit scary. I always feel like somepony is running a ruler up and down me."

"Well, at least here, you don't have to worry about that," assured Twilight. "But, hey, you went through the trouble, and I think it would be okay to let our manes down a bit!"

Pinkie Pie cheered and said, "Then let's kick it up a notch!" putting on some faster music and starting the refreshments. It was going to be an interesting summer.

As the party progressed, Pinkie then said, "I just hope the welcome I hope to give tomorrow is going to be just as fun, if not funner."

Rarity rolled her eyes and said, "Honestly, dear, I do not think 'funner' is a real word. I am sure it is not in the dictionary."

"Oh, well, it's in this one!" said Pinkie, grinning, and holding up a book which was entitled, "The Pinkie Pie Dictionary of Party Lingo."

"Um…well…I guess…." Said Rarity, not sure what to say, but that caught Twilight's attention, and she said, "There's a new pony coming to town?"

"Oh, yes," she said gleefully, "Apple Bloom mentioned it. She said there was going to be a new physical education teacher in her school, and that he was going to coach the track and field team for the school, and the local club in town! He is a stallion named Clark O'Leary, and he comes from the east, from Mareginia! I bet he has all kinds of good stories to tell!"

Everyone had a different picture of who this could be. Rarity envisioned a good country gentlecolt, while Applejack imagined a good ol' country pony with whom she could connect. Rainbow Dash imagined a handsome and well-built stallion, while Fluttershy, hearing the word "coach" imagined a strict regimental type more along the lines of a drill instructor. Twilight, however, said, "Well, just don't overwhelm him," (which was like telling a fish that he shouldn't swim so much,) "Give him a chance to get to know the place before you flood him with your hospitality."

"Well, duh!" Pinkie responded, "I would never want to drown a new friend! I think a wading pool would be a good start!"

Everyone just sighed, thinking they would have to do some damage control the next day when this new pony came in.

The next day, not but an hour after the sun had arisen to a cobalt blue sky, a humble wagon came into town, being pulled by a reddish-chestnut pony who cut quite a handsome profile. He had a shaggy mane that had a touch of length, but nothing too long, along with a confident face, and a mark on his flank of what looked like a race muzzle covered with goggles. If his mark was any indication, he indeed had a racing past. Considering what Pinkie Pie said, this had to be the pony that was expected by the school and local track and field club. He looked around, taking in all the sights, trying to remember faces, shops and landmarks, and so forth, trying to get as familiar with his new surroundings as quickly as possible. He saw the police department, fire department, the open air market, the supply shop, the town square, the party streamers, balloons, refreshments, large banner saying, "Welcome to Ponyville, Clark O'Leary… He stopped, shook his head, did a double-take, and heard the sounds of a marching band start up. "Confused" would not be an adequate description of the look on his face. He followed the sound of the music to see Pinkie Pie at the center of her one-pony band, playing "Dixie" with all her might. She then started her welcome song, singing:

"Welcome, welcome, welcome, to our town; we're here to make you happy and take away a frown! We hear you are a track coach and that you like to run; but we also hope you're comfy and you like to have some fun. The students in the school await your smiling face; you'll make them healthy, happy, and bring joy all o'er the place! You'll make the local track team all happy and all cheery; so, welcome now to Ponyville Mister Clark—O—Learyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

She was now on her knees in a nice Broadway pose, panting for air and a huge toothy smile on her face. After a few moments of silence where Clark was trying to figure out just how to react to this, he finally smiled and said, "Well, I say: I'm familiar with southern hospitality, but I'd say we'd have sumpthin to learn from y'all!"

She was up close to him a second and said, "Oh, that's nothing. You should see what I do when someone real important comes to town…oh, not that YOU'RE not important, I mean, I hope you don't think you're not special…"

He put a hoof on her mouth and said, "I think I get it, little filly, and I'm not offended. It'd take a might bit more to get me there."

"Oh, great!" she said, "So, where are you staying? I can get a housewarming party started there."

He smirked and said, "You must be the local caterer."

"Weeeeell," she pondered, "I work for one, or used to. Well, I do and I don't. I now split my time between that and working for Princess Twilight Sparkle."

"Shucks," he answered, "You work for someone like that? You must really be able to put on a good hootenanny!"

"Um…what's a hootenanny," responded Pinkie Pie, saying "hootenanny" real slow.

"Well, it's a real fun party," he said, "A right lively shindig."

"Oh, okey, dokey, chockey!" she said, as lively as ever, and then said, "I can get my friends to help you set up your house!"

He chuckled and said, "Well, since I'm going to be coaching the local track team and all, they gave me a house right on the grounds."

"Great!" she said, quite gleefully, "Then I'll go…" but he put a hoof on her and said, "Nah, that's okay. I'd just like to relax after my long journey and ease into it. I'll just set up, and then enjoy a quiet moment with a good mint julep out on the veranda."

"Hmm… Okay, then maybe another time!" she then said, and followed that with, "Well, are we at least friends then?"

He gave another chuckle and said, "Darlin', how could I resist a smile like that?" giving a good southern gentlepony bow, saying, "I am honored to make your acquaintance."

He started on his way as she said, "Well, have a great day! Let me know when you want to have a good nootehanny!"

He laughed and said, "That's 'hootenanny'!"

After he left, she then stopped, thought, and then said, "Wait, he never told me what a shindig was…."

Once at the track, he set down the wagon, thinking to unload it later, and went straight through the house and onto the track. He stood there for a good few minutes, staring at it and taking some deep breaths, taking in the whole scene. He seemed to be in deep thought as he did, as if he was remembering some things. With a good smile, he said, "Yes, this will be a good place to stay, and a good life. Maybe I can just have a quiet life for once."

With that, he went back in and began to set up housekeeping.

At the library, Twilight was beginning to sort out some books, and adding some new ones that came in over the months she had been away. At this, Rarity came in with Sweetie Belle, Applejack and Apple Bloom in tow. "Oh, hi everypony!" Twilight greeted brightly. The fillies began to bow, but Twilight said, "Oh, that's okay. You don't have to do that right now. We're all alone."

"See?" said Bloom to Belle, "I told you she was not all stuffy!"

"But she's a princess now!" protested Sweetie Belle.

"But, what I am doesn't change who I am," said Twilight, "I'm still me—more or less—and I'm still you're friend."

They both smiled as Rarity then cut in and said, "Well, I've been able to see and meet the new pony in town."

"Yeah," said Apple Bloom, "And I thought Big Macintosh had muscle. He doesn't look like he has any fat on him, and yet he's so streamline."

Rarity sighed and then said, "And I would say that he is quite the southern gentlepony. He is well mannered, and knows how to speak properly to the ladies."

Applejack looked a touch aggravated at that and said, "And you make it sound like us country folk ain't got no culture."

"Oh, I don't mean it like that," said Rarity in protest, "I just mean that it seems he had some good upbringing, like you, darling. How did Fancy Pants put it? Ah, yes: he called us 'curiously rustic', and I know for certain he did not mean that in a bad way. Though this Mr. O'Leary is where he is from, he seems he would be just as comfortable in a barn dance as he would the gala."

"He seems real nice," added Sweetie Bell, "I bet he has all kinds of fun games for us to play. It's too bad he won't be starting until next school year. It's too late in the year for him to start now."

"Well, the good thing is that you'll get the whole summer to get to know him," said Twilight, "I'm sure he's going to do a fine job for you foals."

As if having summoned him, in walked Clark, saying, "Howdy, y'all. Well, small town, ain't it?"

"Oh, we are a tight community," said Rarity, "It makes it such a pleasant place to live."

Twilight smiled and said, "What can I do for you today?"

He gave a gentlepony bow and said, "Ah, and you must be the charming princess I've been told so much about."

He took her hoof and gave it a quick peck as he would for any nice mare he would meet, knowing his mother would have whacked his flank for not treating a mare right had he not greeting her properly, and said, "Well, I have some old periodicals and books to donate to the library, if that's okay."

"Oh, sure!" she said, "I'm always glad to have more for people to read."

"It's just I don't have room for them in the new place," he added, "And I really don't read them anymore. I have them in the box."

A lavender glow overcame the box and it floated onto a table, as she said, "Spike, I have some things for you to sort out and order."

He dutifully came out and opened it, pulling things out and making some piles, getting ready to sort them out, as she said, "Well, I hope you do find a home with us. Come back anytime you need help."

"Well, I would like to see if you have any book on the history of this track team in Ponyville," he said, "I'd kind of like to know the history and the kind of reputation the team has had in the past. I know that they've had a hard time as of late, and I want to do what I can to see about fixin' all that."

"Oh sure," she said, "Just let me look in the reference guide on the town's history…"

A draw floated out of the catalogue, and she was able to locate it, and that floated back as another floated to the checkout desk. She stamped it, and then floated it into his pouch. She then noticed the flank and said, "Interesting mark you have. You must have done some racing at one time."

"Well, t'ain't really nuthin' t'write home about," he shrugged off, "but that's all behind me now. Figured it would be a good time t'give back to others the learnin' I got. Well, I'm off to read this and then get a good look at what the team has to offer me in some practice. If you please, I'll take my leave of you and bid you good day. Princess, fine gentlemares…"

He gave a nod to them and he was out the door. Twilight said, "Wow, he really was a nice pony. He'll fit right in with the rest of the ponies in town."

However, as Spike sorted out the magazines, he said, "I don't think he was being quite honest about all of his past."

"Whatever gives you that notion?" questioned Rarity.

Spike held up a copy of "The Sporting Weekly," with a big headline on the front saying, "Athlete of the Year," and a very familiar pony. However, who he was, was not certain, in that he was covered with a racing headdress and goggles, as well as blue and white checkered racing silks that covered him from his neck to his tail, somewhat similar to what a Thunderbolt would wear. He had a big smile, and the underline said, "First triple crown winner in 25 years, and, wow, how he did it! Inside: Clerkalariet's story."

"Clerkalariet?" said Applejack, "What kinda name is that?"

"It's a racing name, dear heart," said Rarity, "All track stars have them."

"Well, he did say he was in the business," said Twilight, "I'm sure he just followed the scene like anyone else. I'm curious, though: I wonder what kind of pony this was. Anyway, Spike, set that one aside, if you could. I want a chance to read it later, if I can."

He smiled and nodded as he set it aside and started sorting the others by date and title. With that, everyone took their lead, as Twilight pondered, "Clerkalariet… I think I've heard of him. I wonder if Clark knew him. I guess I'll find out soon enough."

There was no reason to suspect anything bad about O'Leary, but this did seem to add a slight air of mystery to him. Yet, for Twilight, she thought nothing bad of it, and figured he had a good story to tell them nonetheless. With that, she took up the magazine and went to the reading lounge to read it.

Chapter 2

As Twilight Sparkle read, she was intrigued on how periodicals were written in that time, what they advertised, and so forth, before she managed to reach the main article. As she read, it gave a great account of the life of the mentioned pony and all he had achieved. He had come from a plantation in Mareginia, and from an early age had a knack and love for running. This was noticed by his parents early on, and they did all they could to foster his talents early. What was interesting is that they had no pictures of his mark. There were only pictures of him as a young foal, though he did have the same coat as the newcomer to town. Anything else was pictures where he was wearing his racing gear or training gear that covered most of his body. She was looking for the mark, just to see if she may have seen this pony somewhere else. By this point, Rainbow Dash had arrived to return the latest copy of Daring Do, and only saw Spike tending to things.

"Hi Spike," she popped pleasantly in her normal confident way, "Where's Twilight?"

"Oh, she's in the reading room," he answered, not looking up from the floor he was sweeping. Dash sighed and said, "Why does that not surprise me."

She went in and saw her friend, not in a book, but in a sporting magazine. She started to laugh, saying, "You? The scholar is reading a sports magazine?"

"And?" said a slightly annoyed Twilight.

Still giggling a bit, she said, "I never thought you'd get into anything like that!"

"I'm actually doing some research," said Twilight, "It seems that our new Ponyville resident has a past being involved with professional racing."

"Really?" she then said, coming over to see what she was reading as Twilight added, "It seems he was a part of it in this era. I was hoping I'd come across a picture of him in here with the other ponies, but it seems the whole thing wants to focus around this pony."

"Wait," she said, "Is this the great Clerkalariet?"

"You know who this is?" asked a curious Twilight.

"Oh, come on!" said a surprised Rainbow Dash, "He's even a legend in Cloudsdale! He was the fastest thing in the world that didn't have wings. He was so fast, even pegasi were impressed!"

She looked at the pictures, and then said, "Oh my goodness! Man, those racing ponies sure wear some odd looking duds!"

"From what I understand," said Twilight, "I think they wear that to help cut down on wind in their manes and coat. They sometimes race to beat each other by just the fractions of seconds. They're trying everything to get an edge."

"Well, you don't need that magazine to tell you who he is," said Dash, now on the floor, "He only lost one race in his whole career! He mostly came in first, or came in the top three a few times. The worst finish he ever had was fourth, and that was in his first race. After that, he was unstoppable! They compared to the great Stallion O' War, and he even took O' War's nickname: Big Red. He won the Triple Crown."

"Okay, what is that?" asked Twilight, now very intrigued thanks to Dash's enthusiastic presentation.

"That's the top three track meets in the season," answered Dash, "There's the Ducky Derby, the Speak Nice Steaks, and the Belle Mountain Steaks. They are three meets in a row, and the best middle and long distance runners take part in the keynote race in each meet. You win those three, you win the Triple Crown. He was the first to do it in 25 years at his time, and not just that, but he set track records in those races that have yet to be beat!"

"Well, it sounds to me like he should be better known than that," asked Twilight, wondering why he would still not be the talk of the town.

"Well, that's the odd part," she answered, "He had a much shorter career than most ponies. First of all, when he ran the Belle Mountain, only five other ponies even bothered to enter the race. It was always hard to find opponents for him. Worse, ever since the last race in the crown, rumors flew about that he had been a cheater somehow, that no horse was that good. He had to be using illegal gear, had magic help, or took some kind of potions, something like that. The worst accusations came from the pony that gave him the hardest challenge: Shemp."

"What happened there?" asked Twilight.

"Well, in the Ducky and the Speak Nice, he finished second, and only a length or two behind Clerkalariet," Dash offered, "Yet, in the Belle Mountain, he not only won, but won in tremendous fashion. Shemp blew up and couldn't keep up, finishing dead last! He was so angry, and started the accusations of cheating that he never let up on through his whole career. He swore revenge one day, but his coaches wouldn't let him. They feared he might do something stupid on the track, and kept the two apart. The pair went on to win their meets separately, but they never raced each other again. Then Clerkalariet retired, and Shemp, to this day, swears he got out because he was sure he would be exposed one day."

"Where is this Shemp now?" asked Twilight.

"Oh, he's still racing," answered Rainbow Dash, "And he's getting ready to retire himself now. He has the respectable career himself, but knows it's time. He's been invited to compete in the race of the best ponies of that year, and any other past legends, called the Feeder's Cup, sponsored by an oats company. Clerkalariet would have been in this too, had he not retired."

"Well, that's quite a career," said Twilight, "It's a shame about the slander, though. Sometimes, that kind of thing can stick harder than good things, and that's whether or not it's the truth."

"Yeah," agreed Rainbow Dash, "No one really knows where he is now. He's been in seclusion ever since, and some believe that is even more reason to believe he had done something underhooved."

"Well, maybe, one day, we can get a chance to see if he knew this pony," said Twilight, "Maybe he can tell us what happened."

Rainbow Dash nodded and said, "Well, I promised to help Scootaloo to better her wing strength so she could learn to fly. It's so hard being a late bloomer."

Twilight nodded, knowing how she had her troubles learning how to fly herself and said good-bye to her friend as she took off for other things.

As she went, she spotted said pony in the market, doing some shopping. She came down and said, "Oh hi! You must be the new pony here."

He laughed a touch and said, "I tell you, everyone has been treatin' me like an international pony of mystery."

He put his hoof to his mouth and whispered to her with a giggle, "Been workin' on it like mad!"

She laughed, and then said, "I heard you were involved with pro racing at one time."

He sighed and said, "Yep, I was. I could tell y'all few stories, but there's really nuthin all that interestin'."

"Well, my friend was wondering if you ever met the great Clerkalariet," she asked in passing.

Clark shuddered a bit, paused, and shook it off, saying, "Well, what makes you ask?"

"Well, I admit, you're about the right age," she answered, "And I figured you'd know only the greatest hoof racer ever."

"Well," he said, pondering, "What's there to know that ain't already known? Ya seem t'know yer history on the matter."

"Um, to be honest, I thought you would know some stories they might not print in magazines," she answered.

"Ah, you must've been lookin' at some of the magazines I donated t'the library," he answered, "Which must make you friends with that princess."

"Yep!" she said, all proud, "She's my best bud! She's a bookworm, though. She'll read just about everything."

"Did she figure out who this pony was?" he asked.

"Nah," she concluded, "I don't think she wanted to know who he was as much as what you might have known about the business. She just wants to know what that world is like at that level."

"Oh, well, that's fine," he said, seeming to relax, "Maybe one day I can talk t'her 'bout it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta be moseying along."

She let him go with his shopping, but something struck her odd. She sensed a bit of tension when she mentioned Clerkalariet. She wondered just why this might have been, and wondered if there was something he was keeping back. She did know of the cheating rumors, and wondered if he knew something about that he didn't want to say. With that, she followed him, keeping out of sight, moving from cloud to cloud.

Soon, she was at Ponyville Downs, and he went into his house. She landed on some of the roofing that covered the stands overlooking the main stretch of the track. After about fifteen minutes, she looked over and saw Clark jump the rail around the track wearing a set of goggles and trot out towards the end of the stretch. Not sure if she was visible where she stood, she ducked down a bit to watch. He started to look like he was limbering up, concentrating on that more than who just might be watching him. After about five minutes of that, he went to the point where the last turn becomes the straightaway, and watched him as he just stood there, staring down the track. She found this odd, wondering why he was just standing there, but then soon got her answer. After a few minutes, he tore off down the track as if he had already been in motion. He left a nice cloud of dust, a face of determination, every part of his body seemingly in motion and contributing to his every step. The one thing that caught her about this was his eyes. They were both fixed and full of fire. He seemed otherworldly in this state, and she wondered if this is what she looked like when she raced or tried for her sonic rainbooms. It hadn't even been a minute and he was already tearing down the backstretch, seeming to go faster and faster with every passing moment. At this, she wondered if all racing ponies got like this, and she had to admit she'd never seen an earth pony race up close like this. Another forty-five seconds or so, and he was flying down the home stretch, seeming like he was not even touching the ground. He crossed under the wire and then began to slow to a trot, going around the track in a cool down. "Wow," she thought, "I have to rethink about the speeds a racing pony can get."

She looked up at a clock tower and realized that he had run the course in about two minutes, nine seconds. He came back around, and one of the attendants saw him, saying, "Hey, that was amazing! You were only seven seconds off the track record."

"Well, I gotta stay in shape if I'm gonna coach," he answered, "I can't let some of these young colts show me up, y'know."

They laughed, and when they were not looking, Dash took off, thinking about what she had just seen. She would have to tell the others later.

That evening, they were together for some tea a Rarity's house, and Rainbow Dash told the story of what she saw. "It was incredible," she said, "He ran like the wind! I've never seen an earth pony fly before, but I think I saw it today."

"Well, he did say he was a racer, did he not?" mentioned Rarity, "I do believe they can all run like that, darling."

"But you don't understand," she said, "That fire in his eyes…it's like he was in another world. I know that feeling. It's that passion. It's like when I'm racing myself, or doing reserve work with the Wonderbolts, or I'm just flying fast for just the sake of going as fast as I can. I know I'm doing what I was born to do."

"Well, tarnation, girl," expounded a slightly confused Applejack, "If he was born t'do what he does, why should that be any different?"

"I don't know," responded Dash as she rubbed the back of her neck, "I guess what I'm saying is, if he was not all that as a racer, I mean, the way he seems to act like he wasn't all that much, then why did he look like he had such desire to run so fast, and ran as fast as he did? I think there's more to him than he lets on."

Twilight sighed and said, "And, I think somepony is letting her imagination run away with her. Look, he's been a racer, and he's just stretching his legs. If he likes to go fast, then you, of all ponies, should understand why. He's probably just having fun. Don't make too much of this. He seems to want his peace, so, let him have it."

"But, I…*sigh* maybe you're right," she conceded, "Sorry, Twilight: you always have been the voice of reason I guess."

She let it go, but something nagged at her inside. Something was amiss, and something in her wanted her to find out more about this newcomer.

Chapter 3

Twilight knew that Rainbow Dash's suspicions about Clark were unfounded, but she had done more looking up of Clerkalariet, and she was becoming more interested in this pony that seemed to have built a legend, but one that time seemed to be erasing. For whatever reason, though the older ponies knew who he was, the younger generation had no idea. She felt it sad this was the case, and felt that, maybe, his memory should be preserved. Yet, before she could do this, she had to learn more about him. However, she also now realized her own library was inadequate to handle the task. She then wrote to Princess Celestia to ask if she could visit the Canterlot library. As quickly as Spike sent the letter off, a response came back that it would be more than a pleasure to have her come. Thus, within a couple of days, she was in that library.

"So, it is Clerkalariet you show interest," stated the Princess after formal greetings were made, "May I ask more about why?"

"Well," said Twilight, "We have a new pony in Ponyville, and he has connections to him. He even donated a few books and magazines to the library that talked about that time. It seems by what he gave that this Clerkalariet was quite the hoof racer."

"That is actually an understatement," said Celestia, "He was the greatest hoof racer history has ever known."

"What makes you say that?" asked Twilight.

"I actually had the privilege to watch him race," answered Celestia, "You could never know his greatness unless you actually witnessed it."

"How do I do that?"

"Hmm… I think the library has a few films of his races. Let us take a look."

With that, they were going through the film section, and they found the three key races for the Triple Crown. First was the Ducky Derby. In that, Shemp charged out early, staying right behind the leader, with Clerkalariet bringing up the rear. Twilight said, "But, he's last…"

"Wait for it," said Celestia, and just as she said that, they were hitting the backstretch, and suddenly, Clerkalariet charged out and started putting the pack behind him. By the middle of the stretch, he was going to the front, and Shemp took advantage of that, coming up and coming alongside Clerkalariet. They bobbed back and forth for the lead, but finally, down the home stretch, Clerkalariet took off and managed to ge length lead and win easily. Twilight said, "Wow, that was amazing how he came up like that and just passed everyone."

"That seemed to be his tactic in all his races," said Celestia, "Shemp was quite the runner, but just did not have it that day. Everyone was very impressed and wondered if there was a chance at the Triple Crown after such a long time."

Next was the Speak Nice Stakes, and once again, it was the same thing, but this time, he beat Shemp by about 3 ½ lengths. Shemp appeared a bit annoyed after his second loss to Clerkalariet, and she began to wonder if the rumors started then. Twilight then said, "That was very good, but I haven't seen the spectacular part."

"Oh, that is coming up!" said Celestia, as Spike readied the last film. Twilight then said, "There are only four other ponies."

"That is because everyone feared Clerkalariet and Shemp by this point," answered Celestia, "And considering what had happened before, everyone pretty much considered this a match race."

The gates opened and the ponies took off. However, this time, both Shemp and Clerkalariet took off and took the lead. Celestia then said, "The crowd around me was all wondering what was going on. Normally, Shemp hung near the front and then took off while Clerkalariet bided his time and then took off. It was as if he was biding his time, waiting for something from the other ponies and then going then, but not that day."

With that, they were hitting the backstretch, and Twilight commented, "That track is huge!"

"The race was 1 ½ miles," responded Celestia, "Indeed, the reason why the crown is hard to win is because of this race. Many young ponies like this are not ready for the distance of the Bell Mountain Stakes and do not manage to do as well. This day, however, would be different. The talk around me was that they were going too fast. No earth pony could keep up that kind of pace and not blow out before the end of the race."

In the middle of the backstretch, Clerkalariet began to open a lead. In fact, not only was he doing this, he was making it look effortless. He was thee, then four, five, seven, nine lengths ahead and looking more like a machine than a pony. In fact, Shemp, who was charged with determination and seeming anger on his face trying to best his rival, but then looked with stunned amazement as he watched Clerkalariet take off, and then begin to fade back as the rest of the ponies caught up to him. Soon, he went to the back of the pack in disbelief as Clerkalariet kept extending the lead. "Everyone was concerned that Clerkalariet was going to pass out, but he just kept going." added Celestia. However, Twilight was being mesmerized by what she saw, and was stunned that anything she was seeing. She had no idea that an earth pony could do this. He crossed under the wire a whopping 31 lengths ahead of the pack. "Incredible…" was all she could say, and saw in the film some earth mares were visibly crying. What surprised Twilight was the fact that she noticed she was also crying at this. She said, "Why are they crying?"

Celestia put a loving wing around her old protégé and said, "You have to understand something: in that day, though unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies lived in peace and harmony, the earth ponies still felt themselves a bit under the other two, in that, they had no special powers or could not fly. They never stopped to think that they were just as important, forgetting that, without them, all the farming and building they primarily did would never be done in quite the way that they can do it. Yet, they began to feel themselves as mere tradesponies and common."

"That's so said," said Twilight.

Celestia sighed and said, "Yes, it was, but that changed on that one day. On that day, the world watched an earth pony fly for the first time without ever leaving the ground. He did not use magic, and needed no wings to do what he did. It was hard work, determination, and much in practice that got him where he was, which is true for any kind of pony. Moreover, he had a dream to be the best, and sent a message to the other ponies, especially the earth ponies: never let anyone tell you that you cannot achieve your dreams if you are willing to put in the work. You can be special, no matter who you are. No longer would earth ponies feel inferior, because even they could be special in all they do."

"But…but why am I crying," said Twilight.

"Oh, silly pony," answered Celestia lovingly, "Do you not understand? All your life, you have yourself strived for perfection, and wished to see what perfection looked like. Today, you saw it."

Going by the other things she had already read, she was amazed anyone could ever forget something like this. She had to ask. "Princess, why do few ponies talk about this? Why have I never knew of this until now?"

"That has much to do with the rumors I am sure you've heard about by now," answered Celestia, "Never once did Clerkalariet protest what was said about him, Shemp being the loudest among them. Yet, when he left, announced his retirement, everyone was shocked. He never gave an explanation as to why, and disappeared. Meanwhile, Shemp went on to have the career he should have had, and very successful, but he always has spoken of never being able to get out of Clerkalariet's shadow."

Twilight pondered this as she heard the ting of sorrow in the voice of Celestia, remembering what had divided her and Luna at one time. Twilight then wondered, "I wonder if there is a way for him to get over this?"

"Unknown," answered Celestia, "With him being gone, it may never happen."

Again, she pondered this, and feeling sad how it all ended. After some personal time, Twilight made her way back with some food for thought.

Meanwhile, Clark was meeting the track team for the first time. Indeed, this was merely and amateur thing, and local—nothing professional. However, by the looks of it, they needed some help! Since Big Macintosh was a member of the field aspect of the team in pulling, Applejack was out to watch the practice, now that there was a new coach. Along with that was the rest of the six, minus Twilight, being she was in Canterlot. Clark was walking up and down, talking to the team, and he said, "Okay, today, we'll watch y'all go through yer workouts so I can see what y'have in you right now. I'll be takin' notes, and then we'll get a practice regiment ready fer ya. I don't expect no miracles right away, but I hope t'make you a competitive team. Yet, never forget, it's the joy of competing that should be foremost in yer minds, with winning right behind it. I mean, if there's no need t'win, why keep score?"

They all chuckled at this, and they all split up to their different disciplines with the assistant coaches. Clark went up into the stands where the mares were sitting to watch. He had his notebook out, and was ready to take notes, and more so on the runners, considering that was his forte. Pinkie was all excited, saying, "Oh goodness! This is so exciting! All the action, running, jumping, throwing… I'll plan a victory party after this!"

"Um…Pinkie," said Applejack, rolling her eyes, "This is just a practice. They still ain't had their first meet yet."

"Oh, um…" she said, pondering, "Then we'll have a party to celebrate our coming victories and then parties for victories! It will be so much fun!"

Clark just laughed at the silly pony and said, "If we win the regional championship at the end of the season, I'll look ya up."

Fluttershy seemed to want to ask something, but seemed to hesitate. Clark picked up on this and said, "Hey, sunshine, y'all seem like you want to say sumpthin?"

She fidgeted a bit, not sure what to say, but also feeling relieved that she was invited to speak, and said, "Well, it's nothing really, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

She looked away slightly shamefacedly, but Clark said, "Hey, it's okay. Ask anythin' y'want."

"Really?" she said, looking as if some great privilege had been granted her, and she said, "Just what happens at a track meet?"

"Oh, you've never been t'one?" he asked with genuine curiosity. She looked scared, as if she should have been to such a thing, and she said, hushed, "Oh, I'm sorry! Should I have seen one? Have I missed something I should have done?"

He smiled at the shy pony and said, "Ah, don't worry yer pretty little head. You ain't done nuthin wrong. Tell me, you grew up in Cloudsdale, right?"

Again, she felt like she was being examined and said, "Well, yes," all timid, and he said, "Oh, well, that explains. I'm sure you've seen things more associated with pegasus sports. I can understand why y'don't know about earth pony sports."

She nodded, and he said, "Well, that's okay if y'don't know."

She then looked relieved, as if a weight had been taken off her back, and he wondered what it was that made the poor girl seem so timid. Rarity whispered to Clark, "Believe me, she's become far more open since she's been our friend. You should have met her at the first."

He whispered back, "If she ever let me near her."

He then said, "Well, this sport's also called Athletics, and the event actually is several sports goin on at once. You have runnin' events, pulling events, jumpin' events for distance, height, and stadium jumpin'."

Everyone was listening now, and he said, "First, we have th'sprints, then we have th'middle distances both on the cinder track, and that grass track just on th'inside of the cinder track. After many of th'events in th'middle are finished, they set up th'course fer one of th'distance events. It involves starting on th'cinder, then crossin' over to th'grass on the back stretch, down th'front on the grass, then back to th'cinder in the back all the way t'the finish. Then the last event is set up, startin' at one end of the park and then winding back n' forth to the end called the steeplechase. That one is th'longest event, and th'most gruelin'. It combines jumpin' and racin', designed fer all-around athletes."

"What are some of the field events? "asked Rarity.

"Well, we have weight pullin'," he answered, "Bale tossin', hammer throw, high jump, stadium jumpin', dressage…"

"Oh, dressage!" said Rarity, "That is such an elegant form! I learned that as a filly in dancing class!"

"And do you think you can still do that?" asked Pinkie.

"Oh, with a bit of practice, I could," she pondered, "But, I'd need a good caller."

"Caller?" asked Applejack, "Whatcha mean? Is that like a square dancin'?"

"Oh, don't be so gauche, darling," said Rarity with a hoof wave, "The pony carries a load that shifts and moves, but in doing the moves, the load must stay perfectly still, or as still as one can make it, and still perform with precision and grace. However, there is somepony that stands on the edge, giving commands as to what move to do and when, but it has to be done silently with the subtlest of movements."

"Sounds dull t'me," said Applejack.

"Ah, you would be surprised at the skill it takes," she said, "More so if you have someone Spike's size who can do it all from your back."

"Hey, if y'all can do it," said Clark, "We'd love t'have y'all."

"But, what's this other kind of jumpin'?" asked Applejack.

"Well," answered Clark, "That involves two events, really. One is in th'stadium, and one is held outside th'stadium in a cross-country event."

She showed some interest and said, "What does that involve?"

"One is more negotiatin' a course, the other is more rallyin' over jumps, and decision making," answered Clark, "In cross-country, there is a set time that a pony is expected t'be able t'get through it at a brisk pace but not at breakneck speed. Each pony heads out one by one, and then they try t'keep to that time, no more and no less, all the while makin' jumps. The winner is the pony who keeps it closest to the expected time in either side of the time. However, if there is more than one with a matchin' time, the scorin' system comes into play. On each jump, there are parts that are easier t'jump and harder. Points are given or taken dependin' on the jump one takes: nuthin fer the average jump, negative fer th'easier, and bonus fer th'harder. Y'also get deductions fer pickin' one and failing to make the jump the first time. Three failed attempts and yer disqualified."

"That sounds interestin', considerin'," said Applejack, thinking she could do something like that.

"Too bad I have wings," said a pouty Rainbow dash, "I know I could beat you!"

"You could tie 'em down and try," said Applejack, taking that as a challenge.

"Well, yer not forbidden if ya don't use wings," said Clark, "Why not try?"

"Really!" said Dash, all excited, "And what about the stadium thing?"

"Well that's a short course of various jumps of number and height," said Clark, "In that one, ya do several rounds. The first two, y'try t'get through without knockin' off logs, bricks, or whatever the jump is made of. Ya get sumpthin called faults if ya do. Y'get four fer each part of an obstacle y'knock down, and six fer balkin at a jump. Three balks and yer out. After the first round, those with the most faults are eliminated. Then, the jumps are made higher, and ya go again. Then there's another elimination. None of this is timed until the final round. The jumps are made higher, and you are timed. Th'one with the fewest faults that does it quickest is th'winner."

"I'm up to it!" said Applejack.

"Well, um… I want to do that, and the steeplechase!" responded Rainbow Dash in a mark of one-up-ponyship.

"Hey, yer on!" said Applejack, all excited, and Clark, surprised, said, "Okay, since you two are so anxious, get out to that midfield and join the rest of the jumpers! Let's see ya do it."

With that, Rainbow dash had Fluttershy tie down her wings and they headed out to the practice jumps to see what they could do. Pinkie was all bouncy, saying, "My friends are going to be track stars, oh boy!"

Clark laughed, seeing how happy they were, and said, "Well, I tell you: most of my early life was spent groomin' fer this sport, so, I really didn't have a lot of friends at the time, but seeing y'all's friendship gives me a warm feelin'."

"Well, we've been through a lot together," answered Rarity, "And every day only makes us closer."

"I just hope I can make friends here," said Clark, "It will seem so nice to be doin' this instead of deal with th'fierceness of competition."

More emboldened, now that she was getting to know Clark better and seeing he could be a friend, Fluttershy then said, "Oh, is it that bad?"

Clark sighed and said, "Well, it can be. I mean, there can be talk of this and that, people accusin' you ah not bein' honest and all. I mean, at the level one's gettin' paid t'do it, where I was, ponies do what they can t'get into yer head, just t'try to throw you off yer game and get the edge. I mean, th'better you do, th'more prize money one makes. I just got sick of that."

"Oh dear," said Rarity, "That is so uncouth. I mean, wanting to win that bad brings out the worst in one."

"And you should know!" said Pinkie, all gleeful about it, to which Rarity gave a look of, "Really," to which Pinkie then said, "Okay, sitting quiet now!" and plopped down. Rarity then said, "Speaking of hard competition, I understand you knew the great Clerkalariet. Did you ever race him?"

He stood quiet, staring over the practice, and then said, "Well, let's just say I was involved."

"Did you ever beat him?"

Again, he sat silent, and then said, "Well, there was one time, but I don't wish t'speak of it."

"Unpleasant memories?" answered Rarity with some sympathy.

After a space, he finally said, "T'some extent, yes," to which he sighed and said, "But that's havin' been another pony in another life. That's then, this is now, and this is much better."

"Oh, good," she said, "It is so much better to put your past behind you."

After that, she began to think out loud and said, "Hmm… Perhaps I should ask Spike fer help with the dressage. I am sure he would love it…" but Clark was not listening. He now seemed still, lost in thought. "Is it really behind me?" he pondered in his mind. He then shook his head, and got his focus back on the practice. He had a team to build, and he just had to let some things go.

Chapter 4

Twilight headed back to Ponyville, filled with wonder and amazement. It was the next morning, and she caught up with the others at Apple Acres, Applejack was on her chores, but seemed in a hurry to get them done. Rarity was there, but seeming to be in a fenced in spot, walking here and there, but in a very precise fashion of movements and trots. She seemed a bit shaky, but that gave the air that she knew what she was doing. Twilight landed and set down Spike just in time to hear Rainbow Dash state, "…but I can't see how this is a sport! It just looks like you're walking around."

"Oh, but there is so much more to see than you think," said Rarity, "Dressage is very precise, but is more so with the caller and pony."

"Ah, I read about this," interjected Twilight, "but, why are you doing it?"

"Oh, dear Mr. O'Leary made us a kind offer to be a part of the track team," said Rarity, "It is most amazing how many events shall be transpiring at one time."

"Wait, track team?" asked Twilight, a bit confused, "And what do you mean, 'we'?"

"Well, we went by the downs and saw the team practice for the first time," answered Rarity, "And we heard some of the events going on, and both Applejack and I offered to be a part."

"Oh really?" said Twilight, now keenly interested, "What will Applejack be doing?"

"Oh, she'll be running cross-country and the stadium jumping," answered Rarity with a bright smile.

"Ooh," responded Twilight, "If anyone can pull off that, it's her."

"But, I still don't get this dress-a-gee thing," said Rainbow, confused.

"That's 'dressage', sweetie," answered Rarity, "And it is more involved like I said. It is more than prancing. A signal pony stands outside the area, and with the most minimal of movements to mark the movements. As for me, I have to do whatever is called with the most precision, yet natural flow, I can muster."

"Oh, that sounds like figure skating!" offered an excited Pinkie, "Except it's on sod and not on ice, and come to think of it, you're not wearing skates, but you're not memorizing a routine, someone is doing it for you, which makes me wonder if the caller is your brain, but it can't be, because you are you, and you know the moves, and…"

A hoof came over her mouth, and mumbling could be heard as she tried to continue, and then stopped, realizing she was backlogging air into her cheeks. It was Applejack, who then said, "I think they get it."

"But, I think what she's doing is so pretty!" Fluttershy finally added, "It flows so well and it seems it takes a lot of concentration."

"Oh, indeed it does," commented Rarity, "Yet, I am glad our little Spikey is here! I'd like to ask him a favor."

"Me?" he said, both curious, and then suddenly smitten by the pony of his dreams asking him to do anything for her, "What is it you seek."

"Well," she pondered, "If one can find a caller that can rest on your back, this adds to the score."

"I don't get it," he said, now shaken out of the mesmerizing, and said, "How would I do that?"

"You would sit on a saddle," answered Rarity, "and hold on to a bridal, and sit as still as you can. Yet, at the same time, you would be giving me nudges with your knees, ankles, and toes to let me know when to do what, and you have to do what you can not to be seen you are doing this."

"Oh, that sounds hard," said Spike, a bit worried, "Especially with some of the things you were doing."

"Ah, but I'm sure that's no problem for my little Spikey-wikey!" she said nuzzling her cheek against his, which instantly made him blush, "Here…"

She put on a saddle with stirrups and had someone aid her with a bit-less bridal. She then said, "This bridal is more to give you a chance to keep yourself on if you feel yourself slipping, and you can even use it for subtle tugs to let me know how to move. Hop on."

Spike did not need a second invitation, and was in the saddle with a quickness. With that, she began to introduce the movements to him: piaffe, passages, extended and collected gaits, pirouettes, flying changes, and so forth. Yet, as she went on, Spike was having more and more trouble keeping on board, and kept begging her to slow down. However, she was too into it to notice, and when she went into a piaffe, Spike slid back and found himself bucked onto the ground. Moreover, he panicked, and gave a good yank to the reins as he went, first pulling her up to her hind legs with a harsh whinny, and then wound up landing on top of Spike! Rainbow Dash gave a chuckle and rolled her eyes, saying with the style of sarcasm she was able to muster, "Wow, I see you winning tons of events this season."

Rarity just snuffed and said, "It was only his first time! We'll be ready for certain."

She got up, and Spike just moaned, saying, "I didn't know this was a contact sport… Ooh…"

Twilight laughed, and then said, "Well, do you think you can do it?"

"Well I don't…" Spike started to say, but then Rarity got the pouty eyes going, which melted him in an instant, recovered him, and he was soon up on his feet, saying, "Let's do it!"

"Ah, that's my favorite dragon," said Rarity, "Now, come: we have much to go over."

Rarity then looked over at Applejack, and noticed some bruises on her shins, saying, "And what happened to you."

She rubbed the back of her neck, a little embarrassed, and said, "Well, I gave it a try at th'practice, but I found out that the jumpin' was a bit more than what I would do at a rodeo."

"Really?" asked Twilight, as Big Macintosh came by and just offered his usual, "Yeee-up," as an answer to that. Twilight then added, "And what was the problem?"

"Hmm…" pondered Applejack, "Well, I guess it has sumpthin t'do with how they set up them jumps. Some were wide, and then you had these double and triple jumps at different heights… Tarnation! It was more involved than I thought! Guess I'm gonna halfta to do a lot more jumpin 'round the farm, and a whole lot more apple buckin t'get my jumpin legs stronger fer them wide ones. Boy, my shins sure paid the price for this yesterday!"

"It sounds like so much fun," said Twilight, as Fluttershy then ventured, "Well, how was your visit?"

"Yeah," said Rainbow Dash, now turning her attention to Twilight, "What did you find out?"

At this, everyone stopped to listen, and she got this distant look in her eyes with a contented smile, considering what she learned all meant. "I saw the most amazing thing," answered Twilight, "Can you believe an earth pony could fly without leaving the ground?"

They all looked at each other, and then back at her, as Rainbow Dash asked, "Meaning…"

At this, she described what she saw in the most vivid details. Now, they were mesmerized, and lost in the wonder of what they now knew to be more than just a story, but the legend of possibly the greatest earth pony anypony had ever known. However, her face took on a bit of sadness, and said, "Yet, the sad thing is, our generation and younger, unless they are involved with earth pony athletics, are starting not to remember this. It seems his story, at least to me, is too important to be lost. Maybe we can do something to remember him: a race in his honor, a museum, maybe I could write a book… Yeah, that would be awesome to give that a try!"

"Cool!" said a now excited Pinkie, "Now you can call yourself a princess AND a best-selling author!"

"Um… I think I actually have to write if first before that happens?" answered Twilight in a chuckle.

"Oh, details," said Pinkie with a gesture, "Knowing you and your eye for detail, best seller would be a forgone thing! In fact, I could plan your book rollout party, when you make the best sell list, when you TOP the best seller list…" and so on, pondering all the ways she could celebrate this. Ignoring her, Fluttershy then had to ask, "Well, how would you get started?"

"Good question," pondered Twilight, "Maybe I can start with Mr. O'Leary. He was around at that time. Maybe he could tell me a thing or two and give me some ideas—get me pointed in the right direction."

"Uh… Well, I think he's a bit shy," offered Fluttershy, "I mean, he doesn't seem to go around town a whole lot, and only seems to be at the track when the practice. Perhaps he doesn't want to be bothered."

"Maybe we can catch him at the right time?" offered Twilight, "In fact, you can help me, Fluttershy."

"Me?" offered back a surprised Fluttershy, "Oh no, I couldn't do that. I know so little about him."

"Um...that would be the purpose of the visit," added Twilight, "You have to actually meet someone to know them better."

"Oh…" said Fluttershy, not sure if she wanted to do this. Twilight said, "Come on: it will be okay. I'll send him a message in advance so he can be ready to receive us."

"Mmm…That would be better," responded Fluttershy, "I certainly would like to receive advanced notice."

"Right then," she said, "Can I borrow Spike for a moment, Rarity?"

She nodded, and he hopped off to take a letter.

She got a response rater quickly, stating that he found her project intriguing. He said that he could only offer so much, but then said that he would do what he could. He asked to meet her on his veranda that afternoon at sunset after dinner. They flew up and landed as he relaxed, with a mint julep, and a couple for his guests. "Greetings, my dear princess," he said, raising up to give a bow.

"Oh, please," she said, "You don't have to do that. I still am getting used to this princess thing, and I really don't feel comfortable with it unless it's some kind of formal occasion."

"Ah, and she is the perfect gentlemare," he responded retaking his seat, "Please, would y'all care to partake?"

"Oh, sure, what is it?" she then asked.

"It is a drink from the solid south," he said, "It is also traditionally drunken at th'Ducky Derby. It is a mint julep."

She thanked him and took a spot as she pulled in the tumbler. It seemed slushy, and cold to the touch, and he warned them both, "Be sure to sip it very slowly and make it last. Enjoy the flavor of each sip as long as you can to keep a decent pace."

Not sure what was meant by that, they took a small sip, and both had interesting reactions. Indeed it was both sweet and minty, and even a bit refreshing, but it was also something they felt going down. It went down smooth, but it was first warm, and then cooling. One thing is for certain, and that their sinuses felt clear. "My, is this some kind of potion?" asked Twilight, "What is in this?"

"It has finely crushed ice," he answered, "Mixed in with just enough sugar to sweeten it, and about four or five mint leaves, and about two ounces of a spirit per glass."

"Spirit of what?" asked Fluttershy.

"Um…I think I know what he means," she said, "And he is right: sip very slowly!"

Once it seemed they were feeling a bit more relaxed, Clark asked, "So, what is it that I can assist such an ambitious young mare with in such an undertakin'?"

"Well," pondered Twilight, still savoring the first sip, "I went to the library at Canterlot, and I managed to find the films of Clerkalariet when he won the Triple Crown. I then learned that his story was fading, and people were actually beginning to forget just what he accomplished, and I feared such things being lost. Thus, I want to make sure such a seemingly miraculous pony was never forgotten."

He smiled kindly, and almost looked like he was going to tear up a bit, but then said, "Well, I can start by sayin' that I knew him when we were just a pair of ambitious young colts."

"You knew him?" answered Twilight, genuinely surprised.

"We both came from th'same place," he answered, "I was a young and gifted colt, with a love fer runnin' and speed, just as much as he was. Both our parents thought the same thing, and that we both had potential fer great things, and we both ended up a goin' to a trainin' camp/school for gifted colts and fillies t'allow us schoolin', and a chance t'become genuine racin' ponies. She had it on a former plantation that was converted into a trainin' facility."

"Is that how racing ponies get their starts?" she said, adding a nod to Fluttershy, "Hey, go easy. About half the sips you're taking."

Lost in thought, he continued, saying, "Mostly…but some also come from good schools, get discovered, and other such things. In our case, this was a school run by one Mrs. Sweedly. She had a keen eye fer good ponies, and was the most generous and kindest headmare anyone could ever had wanted. Havin' raced herself on the filly circuit, she knew everythin' about the game. Of course, we were in a school with many other potential legends, so the competition on the track was just as fierce as it was in the classroom. Indeed, Clerkalariet was ahead of us all, and it showed. Runnin' was his life. He seemed addicted to it, as if, if he could not run, he would fade into nuthin."

"Well, it seemed like there could be potential for trouble," answered Fluttershy, seeming more smiling and chatty than normal, "I mean, what if some ponies didn't like that he was doing so well?"

"Funny y'all should mention that," responded Clark, "Because there was some jealousy. I mean, it did seem that sumpthin like what we was doin' was natural t'him, as if he was born fer this. Some admired him. Others became jealous, thinkin' that he must a been doin' sumpthin to get an edge, and not quite honestly. Truth was, he was what he was because he worked so hard at his craft. He'd be puttin' in some extra hours of tranin' absolutely a perfectionist: never satisfied with good enough. I am sure you could picture sumpthin like that?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed, saying, "Actually, more than I would care to admit!"

She then looked at Fluttershy, who was a bit quieter now, but seeming to have slowed down on her tumbler, she not knowing that she had liked the flavor so much, she had actually finished her tumbler and had poured a second from the pitcher on the table. Clark went on to say, "Because of that, they started a'ridin' him sumpthin fierce. He was certainly takin' a lot of teasin' from th'jealous ponies who were not willin' to do the hard work he was willin' t'do. Because of that, he started fallin' behind in everythin'. His grades suffered, and suddenly, he wasn't doin' as good as the other ponies."

"Oh, that's so sad!" responded Fluttershy, but with a bit more gusto than she normally would have.

"Yes," said Twilight, "That seemed so mean."

"It's sumpthin I learned early in the game," he answered, "Gamesmanship. Sometimes, it can be friendly rivalry, tryin' to get th'edge on someone, but sometimes, it can be quite cruel; sometimes called 'ribbin' on the square.' Them ribs can hurt! Yet, trust me, none of this went unnoticed by Mrs. Sweedly. I remember the night after supper he went outside t'just ponder things, lookin' quite down in the muzzle. I followed, and wanted to say sumpthin to bring him up, but Mrs. Sweedly beat me to the punch, so to speak. She sat down, put her arm around him and said, 'Now don't y'all be goin' wobbly on me. You're too good a pony fer that.' He then said, 'But, maybe I ain't no good, like they is sayin.' She sighed and began to gently tousle his mane and said, "Honey, that ain't true at all, so get that silly little notion out'ch yer head. Darlin' you gonna halfta learn right now: there is just some ponies who'll never have the want to's t'do the things it takes t'be good at what they do. You, on the other hand, have that fire, that spirit in you. You want t'run; you know it's all y'all think about, ain't it?' He nodded, startin' to cry a bit, but suckin' it back up. She then told him, a pointin' to the dorms, 'You see them dorms and all who is in 'im? Well, let me tell you the truth: half of them ain't goin' nowhere in their careers. Some may do well, others make a livin', but there ain't but a few that's gonna do the kinds of thing I think you could do if you wanted. Now you: I see y'all maybe the next Triple Crown winner, and maybe win the Feeder's Cup as well' He then said, "Do y'really think so, ma'am?' and she said, 'Oh, absolutely, Little Red,' (that was a nickname he would carry, but later be called Big Red,) 'Don't let anyone tell you can't have yer dreams. They can only be caught if they are like you: willin' to work hard enough t'be fast enough to catch 'em! You are fast enough. Go get 'em!' After that, there weren't nuthin gonna stop him. He started t'win amateur race after amateur race, and all eyes were on him."

"My goodness," mentioned Twilight, "That is so incredible! This Mrs. Sweedly sounds a lot like my former mentor—Princess Celestia."

"Oh, she was more than a mentor," he added, "She was like a second mother t'him, and she was there fer as many races she could be. She was there fer each jewel in his Triple Crown."

"Okay, so what happened in his first race?" asked Twilight, "I bet he must have blown the field away."

Clark began to chortle a bit and then laugh, as he said, "Far from it."

"Really?" she said, confused and now genuinely curious, "What happened."

"I was in that race with him," he answered, "And I tell you, he was a nervous as a long-tailed cat in a rockin' chair contest!"

Twilight laughed, but then became concerned when she heard Fluttershy say, (after a stretch of quiet,) mumble out in sadness, "Oh, that poor, poor kitty."

Before she could react, he went on to say, "He learned quickly about th'pro game, and learned some of the tricks some veterans pull t'throw somepony off his game. He lost his pace and panicked. I wound up right with him as we hit the wire both out of th'top three. You see, as y'race through the season, y'get points for yer placin' in the race. The most go t'the top three: win, place, and show. He remembered what they did, but he was mad at himself that he actually let them get into his head. Mrs. Sweedly had t'calm him down and help him remember that this was only one race; there would be other chances. He seemed th'most scared that he let her down, but he was surprised when she was just as pleased as punch at his first performance, a bein' this was only his first race and finished fourth. That helped him, and from that day on, he never looked back. In fact, he never finished less than show ever again, finishin' first 16 of his first 21 races."

She was jotting this all down with relish, and then asked, "So, if he was so good, why did he retire so soon?"

"Well…" he started to say, looking like he was thinking about what to say, but then he looked at Fluttershy, looking three sheets to the wind, almost unconscious, and now looking like she was ready to sip off the pitcher! She was holding it like a lost kitten as she said, "Oh, I tho love you, Jint Mulep…mmm."

"Oh no…" moaned Twilight, "Something tells me she hasn't had much 'adult beverages' in her lifetime. I guess I can ask you another time for that answer. I have to get her back home."

He laughed, understanding, thanked her for coming, and let her take her friend home.

By this point, she was out of it, and Twilight was now having to walk her home, half draped on her back, with her hind hooves dragging on the ground. However, as she walked, she had time to think about what she had been told. Something seemed odd. It was not odd that he would know some intimate things about this, considering they went to the same school. Yet, somehow, he seemed to be too familiar with things. How did he know that much detail? It was odd, and she would have to try to get that info if she was really going to write a book of history on Clerkalariet. However, this train of thought was stopped just outside Fluttershy's house, who then seemed to be coming too, woozy, moaning, and saying, "Home? How did I get here?"

"I half carried, half dragged you here," sighed Twilight, "I told you to go slow."

"Ugh," she then said, green at the gills, "I don't feel so good…"

"No, wait until…" Twilight started to say, wanting to finish with, "…I get you off my back…" but Fluttershy let loose with a load of chum before she could get her down. Twilight moaned, not believing her misfortune, saying, "Let's get you to bed."

"Ooh, please," said Fluttershy, "I just want to sleep this off and feel better in the morning."

"I don't think so…" thought Twilight, knowing what awaited Fluttershy at the rising sun.

Once home, Spike was already in bed, and she went to the bathroom to clean up before she bedded. Once she did, she decided to find out what "spirit" he was on about in that drink she had enjoyed. She managed to find a book on mixed drinks, and laughed when she found out that the "spirit" was actually bourbon, and that the mint julep was actually considered a very strong drink, but not meant to be drunk quickly, just as Clark had warned. Knowing the dangers of alcohol for those who indulged too much, she then knew she would explain to Fluttershy what had happened to her, hoping it may keep her from that, because it just didn't seem that someone like Fluttershy really needed to be involved with things like that. With that, she went through Zicora's book of potions to help Fluttershy out the next morning when she would awake and find out that gravity works better than she ever knew.

Chapter 5

After tending to a very sick Fluttershy, for whom a centipede walking on the wall sounded as if the first cavalry was marching by, and feeding her charges, she began to ponder her next move, and wondered if paying a visit to this Mrs. Sweedly might be in order. She might be able to shed some light and details about his youth useful to her book. With that, she made plans to visit Mareginia once she found out where the ranch was. After doing some research, she found out that it indeed was still open, and still run by her. Once the tickets had been bought, and she could collect Spike after she got back from Mareginia. There would be much to sort out for the book.

It was now early morning, and the practice meet would be crucial to knowing who his starters and alternates would be. However, before the actual meet, the cross-country event would need to be run. All the runners were lined up with knee pads and helmets, considering that this would be a rough race, and there was potential of taking some spills, along with watches to keep track of their time and pace. Each pony was to go in turn and sent out in intervals. It was not so much trying to race one another as it was to race the clock, and finish as close to a set time as possible while taking the most difficult jumps one felt comfortable with taking. It would be the kind of jumps taken that would determine winners if there was a match in finish times, and points being added or taken away depending on the jumps taken. Rainbow Dash was right behind Applejack, her wings bound to her side, saying, "I won't need my wings! My awesome athletic skills should be enough! I love a new challenge, and beating you!"

"We're still even on the score sheet," responded Applejack without so much as a glance back, recalling their ongoing competition as to who was better, "Besides, you're used to just goin' fast. Can y'all keep a set pace?"

"Really, you have to ask that of me?" responded a slightly offended Rainbow Dash, very confident of her skills. Scootaloo was also there to provide moral support for her mentor, as well as Sweetie Belle to help her keep pace. Both would take short cuts and keep ahead of the runners to call out their pace and time if they were not able to tack their own watches as regularly as they liked. Scootaloo shouted, "Come on, Rainbow Dash! Show us those rad skills!"

"Mah sister's got this licked," said Apple Bloom, "She's got them strong jumpin' legs from all those years apple buckin'!"

"Ah, come on!" responded Scootaloo, "Rainbow Dash has it all down pat."

"Come on, fillies," said Applejack with a sigh, "We're all friends here, and no need t'get nasty. What's more important is havin' fun."

"And it's the most fun winning!" said Rainbow Dash, "Yeah, we're friends…but not when we're competing, and I'm going to put you all in your place."

"Tough talk there, Miss Dash," came a new voice, being Clark, "Y'all should save some of that fierce fer the run. Yer gonna need all y'got. Sometimes, tryin' t'keep a pace can drain you quicker. But, remember: at the end of the day, if you didn't love what you was doin' it wasn't worth it."

He gave a confident air, and seemed to be as keyed up as the runners. His confidence pushed a confidence into them, and they all wanted to do their best. Clark then added, "Remember what Pierre D'Coubermane said all those years ago when he brought back the Equestria Games fer th'modern era: the important thing in life is not th'triumph, but th'struggle; the essential thing is not t'have conquered, but t'have fought well."

Everyone nodded and hunkered down for their run. Soon, it was Applejack's turn to head out, and Apple Bloom took off ahead of her to the first few obstacles. Within ten minutes, she took off, counting her pace at first to make sure she was running the way she needed to for to keep pace. When Applejack took off, Scootaloo got her wings whirring and took off on her scooter to the first few obstacles herself. Dash took off, fast at first, and then remembering herself and slowing a touch. Unlike Applejack, (who, the night before, had taken the time to test her pace,) she had no idea how her times were at certain paces, and she suddenly realized that there was a bit more thinking involved than what she initially though.

The course itself was stretched out over the path the Running of the Leaves took place, but off road. At each obstacle, there was an easy jump, an average jump, and a difficult jump. The pony would then have to make a choice as to which part of the obstacle he or she had to clear. (This, the stadium jump, and the dressage were the only events where stallions and mares competed on equal terms.) Applejack, used to running over rough terrain from her time on the farm, found the going easy and took the first few obstacles on the average jumps with ease. Apple Bloom met her at the third obstacle and she said, "You're about a minute fast. Y'all need t'slow down!"

Applejack nodded and reduced her steps per minute a touch. She was confident, and actually was beginning to enjoy herself, taking in the late spring air and sunshine around her. Because she didn't have to go at breakneck speed, she could actually enjoy this, and now understood what Mr. O'Leary was talking about when he said you should do it because you love what you're doing. However, for Rainbow Dash, it was harder. She had no idea what pace she should be taking, and then found herself stumbling a bit on the rough terrain as a result of trying to figure this out. Scootaloo was worried, saying, "Dash, you're about a minute and a half off the pace."

"Ugh, I know!" said a frustrated Rainbow Dash, "This is harder than I thought!"

What was adding to it was her insisting on taking all the difficult jumps. Her ego wanted her to absolutely try to win this in spectacular fashion. For her, it was not so much as she didn't understand the concept of keeping a pace as much as she had never been a situation where she had to apply such things. The confusion was when to do what. Taking the difficult jumps seemed to be the only thing that made sense. About a third of the way in, Applejack was already passing a couple of slower runners who could not keep the pace. This gave her confidence and steeled her will to win the event. Apple Bloom was taking the adjoining road to keep ahead and calling out times, all happy and smiles that her sister was only a second or two off the pace either way. She knew she would win. Scootaloo, however, was worried, because Dash was already two and a half minutes behind the pace. "Come on, Dash!" shouted Scootaloo at the 1/3 mark, "You're falling behind!"

"I know!" Dash shouted back in frustration, "But it is so hard to tell when I don't know where everypony else is!"

She trotted on, now seeing what was causing her the most difficulty. She was so used to an all-out race, where she always knew her position, and to where everyone was starting at the same time, to where everyone started staggered, and there was no other ponies in sight to give her an idea where she stood, save a watch and someone shouting out her times. Moreover, because she was taking the harder jumps, it was also slowing her, as she was taking a split second here and there to gather herself after each leap. Mr. O'Leary was right; this was wearing her out! About 2/3 of the way in, there was another pony hot on her hoofs, and she realized she was almost five minutes off the pace. She knew she had to catch up, or else she would come in near last, and forgot all about the pace thing. She would go as fast as she could and take the average jumps, throwing caution to the wind. She had to dig deep for whatever energy she had left and start to fly. Scootaloo could hardly keep up, even on the road, and could not even tell Dash her time. She cleared the last jump, feeling spent now, and charged for the line. The official timer called out the time as she came in, and he stated a time that would put her precisely on the pace. "It seems we have a tie thus far, Mr. O'Leary," he said, "It looks like you have your main two."

Applejack was already sipping cider and eating a few apples to get back some energy, saying, "Well run, Dash. Y'all did better than I thought you would."

"Of, *huff* course…*gasp*…what else…*hahh*…would you expect?" answered an exhausted Rainbow Dash, "But it couldn't have been a tie! Isn't there that way you can break ties…oh Celestia, I'm spent."

"And I hope y'all can get it back fer later," added Mr. O'Leary, "Y'all still got the stadium jump. And, yes, there is a way t'break the tie. But, that doesn't matter, consderin' what th'point of the meet is today."

"Of course it matters!" she said, looking at Applejack, "We've got a…um…we just want to know."

He nodded, looked at the scores, and then said, "Well, Rainbow Dash took about 2/3 of the harder jumps, and that puts her the winner by a mile."

"Yyyyyyyyyyyyes!" she said, now reenergized from hearing she had won, and then said, "Well, looks like I'm now the Iron Pony!"

Applejack sneered and said, "Hey, y'all still got th'stadium jump. I can square it up there!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" as they now stood muzzle to muzzle, smiling slyly. Everyone got a good laugh at their rivalry, happy they were actually friends, because if they were foes, it could have been ugly.

Later, the events at the downs started, and Miss Cheerilee had brought the students on a field day to see what such a meet looked like, and to get their first chance to meet their new phys-ed teacher for the next year, (which would explain the allowance for Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo to be at the track already.) As she ushered the students in, she found Clark and said, "Okay, students: this is Mr. O'Leary. He is going to be your phys-ed teacher next year. Say hello."

"Hello!" they all said in unison, and he said, "Well, that's a right neighborly greetin', y'all. I thank ya kindly."

He gave a little bow, and now they muttered a bit in approval as Miss Cheerilee said, "Now, he was once a professional racer himself, so all this is what he used to do for a living."

Now they were all abuzz, asking him this question and that, wondering how it all worked, and then one finally asked, "Why did you leave it?"

He paused, now not sure how to answer, and then finally said, "*sigh* Well, I guess you could say that, when y'all do sumpthin, you should do it because y'love it. Well, as fer me, I guess I could say that there was some things a goin' on that just wouldn't let me do it fer the love of it. It was really just a bunch of things, but at least with this, (pointing to the event,) I can still be involved and not worry about all that, doin' what I love."

There were a bunch of nods and muttering, as if they understood. At this, Diamond Tiara and Sweetie Belle both asked for permission to go to the dressage, because each one had a vested interest in that event. For Sweetie Belle, it was Rarity, but for Diamond Tiara, it was her father, Filthy Rich, competing as well. Once they were excused, and all the colts and fillies found their places in the stand, Cheerilee and Clark then had a chance to talk. "Ah, Rarity I believe," he said with a warm smile.

"Oh, greetings, Mr. Rich," she said in return, "I had no idea you were a dressage artist."

"Nor I you," she said, and both of them continued to exchange niceties to one another. However, there were two related to them that were not quite so cordial.

"Your sister, in dressage?" snuffed Diamond Tiara, "What a joke! She certainly has no sophistication for this."

"She is pretty and graceful!" Sweetie Belle snapped back with a snort, "She can do this in her sleep."

Okay, so she wasn't so sure about that last statement, but she knew that if her and Spike could communicate together, they could sure show things up. Diamond Tiara then said, very smugly, and her nose so high in the air that she could not smell the very thing of which life is made, "Well, with someone like me doing his spotting and calling, we're a shoe in! What can a blank flank like you possibly do?"

"Hey, she's got a good friend helping her," she said, "I don't need to do anything but watch you mess everything up!"

"A baby dragon?" said Diamond Tiara, with a look on her face that seemed to indicate inferior aid to someone like her, "What can he add?"

"He came from Canterlot!" snapped Sweetie Belle, "He's Princess Twilight Sparkle's assistant, and he knows all about sophistication!" (Sadly, this being said as he was picking his teeth free of his last sapphire treat.) "Well, he knows about things like this, (I hope,) so you just wait and see!"

By this point, Rarity and Filthy Rich caught on to what was happening, and Rarity said, "Come now, Sweetie Belle: that's no way to be with your friends."

That got a whispered answer of, "With friends like that, who needs enemies!"

Meanwhile, Filthy Rich said, "Come now: we don't need to be rude, sugar lump. We're all on the same team. This is just for position on the team, and we're all friends here, and for the fun of it!"

"*sigh* Yes, daddy," she said, but then glanced at Sweetie Belle, confident her father was going to put her sister to shame.

At this point, Spike arrived in the little tuxedo top and top hat Rarity had made for them to match a similar ensemble she was wearing that complimented her beauty well, (as dressage is always a formal event.) The announcer then said, "Okay, first up, Filthy Rich!"

He wished Rarity luck and then went to the center of the performance area. They had two performances to make, the better of the two taken as one's final score. Diamond Tiara took the caller's spot overlooking the area. With total silence, they began. Step by step, and move by move, Filthy Rich went through his paces, his daughter making slight eye moves, nose flares, and ear twitches, with the most minimal movements to indicate what maneuvers were next. Though it pained her to think it, she had to admit that the pair were very coordinated and doing well. Soon, he was right back where his hoof prints had been, and those of the more sophisticated stock, (who took a keen interest in sports such as this,) did their polite golf clap in fine approval for the work. "Next up," came the announcer, "Miss Rarity."

"Are you ready, Spike?" she asked, Spike beaming he got to help his favorite pony.

"Oh boy, am I!" he answered, "I've been ready for this my whole life!"

Rarity smirked at the slip of the tongue and then slyly said with a grin, "And just what was that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I, uh…that is…well, you see…" he sputtered out, face red as a tomato. Rarity just giggled and said, "It's okay, Spike. Just remember what we went through."

Gathering himself, he smiled and said, "Okay, let's do this!"

With that, they went out to the middle and prepared to start. About that time, a deer fly had come out of the Everfree Forest, having heard the doings in town and came in to investigate. As he did, he spotted all the ponies, and his senses detected the pulsing veins and higher body heat from the running and jumping ponies. Instinct caught the better of him and suddenly he had a voracious appetite. This was right about the moment Rarity was about to begin, and he flew and landed right on her hind quarters, looking for a good spot. He found one, and then bit, just as Rarity got started. Her mouth went to a small dot and her eyes went wide. With a loud whinny, she suddenly started to jump and move more like she was a bucking bronco rather than a show pony doing the dressage. Spike, thinking this had something to do with it, locked in his claws to the saddle belt and held on for dear life, hoping to stay as still as possible. She was screaming in pain, still kicking as the deer fly made himself at home, both contestant's hats having flown off in the process. Indeed, the deer fly was helping himself, but also latching on more for survival sake thanks to the bucking pony to which he was now attached. Getting his fill, he let loose, but then was flung the length of the performance area, and staggered off, now telling himself it's probably better not to be curious about things like this. Meanwhile, the pair were a frazzle, but they both stood there in the middle, both in shock, and receiving some polite applause from a confused crowd. Coming off, she stopped and rubbed her rumpus, wondering what had just hit her as the dressage coach came up and said, "I would say, that was a rather spirited performance, Miss Rarity. Yet, it amazes me how still your partner managed to be despite all that."

She rolled her eyes and groaned at the sarcastic comment, seeing that she was dead last on the board, and merely grumbled. However, she said, "Come, Spike. Hop off, we'll straighten up, get some water, and try again the second round."

Yet, there Spike sat, steady as a statue, not saying a word. It was now plain to see that it was by sheer terror alone he had held on for so long and stayed still!

Meanwhile, Diamond Tiara could not fail to talk trash at this point and said, "What was that? Hahahahaha! You're sister looked like that googly-eyed pegasus trying to dance salsa! She's worthless."

Now, Sweetie Belle was mad, and got right in her face, saying, "You leave my sister alone. I'm sure there was a reason for that."

"Ooh, feisty, aren't we," she said with a mock scold, "Just what I'd expect from a loser blank flank! Aaaahahahaha…" and she walked away. Sweetie Belle knew she was on school time, and knew starting a fight now would not be good. Besides, she knew she was better than all that and restrained herself, but, if looks could kill, the tiara she was wearing would have been all that was left of Diamond Tiara.

Meanwhile, the stadium jumping event was going on, and it was the preliminary rounds. Rarity had been kind enough to make jumping outfits for Rainbow Dash and Applejack, they being similar to what she was wearing, with off-white knickers to go with it. They were also wearing the black helmets that they had been wearing for the cross-country event as well. Rarity insisted that Applejack wear the red jacket with black trim and tie, being that it accented her coat so well. She had Rainbow Dash in a black jacket, seeing that it fitted her so well. Yet, it was clear that both of them were very uncomfortable in the ensemble, neither being comfortable in formal wear. However, the sport called for such things, and they just swallowed their collective pride and went on with it.

The event seemed simple enough: maneuver through tight course of jumps of varying height, width, and number of jumps, trying to keep from knocking off the poles that made up the jumps. All it would take is a firm brush of either the fore or hind legs, and off it would come. Four faults would be awarded for every time such happened. Those with the most faults would be eliminated, and the jumps would become a bit harder each round. After a few rounds, the second phase would begin. This would be the jumps at their hardest, and they would get two runs. This time, they would be on the clock. This was to insure that, if there was a tie in number of faults, if any, then it would help settle the tie. The first round, both Rainbow Dash and Applejack were clean, and both happy for the time in practice they had before this day. It was then that they realized just how fit and skillful one had to be for this. This indeed was a sport! However, Applejack had an easier time adapting to the game, considering she had a similar event when she ran rodeo. Rainbow Dash had her natural athleticism to help her, but she felt it so uncomfortable to have her wings covered in the shirt and jacket. She was just not used to it, and felt constricted. Still, she was a trooper and fought her way through. The second round started, but this time, both wound up with four faults, but still avoided elimination. In the third round, Applejack ran clean again, but Rainbow Dash felt a twitch in her wings from being so bound the whole time and took out two poles on the last jump. She was on the bubble, and she knew this just might allow Applejack to even out their iron pony competition once again. However, a pony lost his balance on the last jump and took out the entire last obstacle. Everyone rushed in to check on him, but after a moment of concern, he got up, a bit bruised, but nonetheless okay. That saved Rainbow Dash, however, and she said, "Okay, we're both in the final rounds! Ready to be put down by my awesomeness?"

"I don't know," said Applejack, "Does bein' awesome include twitchin' around here and there like you were in a straitjacket?"

"Hey, that's not fair!" she snapped, "I'm running with a handicap here!" taking off her jacket and shirt to allow her to stretch her wings a bit before the next round.

"Well, if y'think y'all can't handle it, y'all can quit now," suggested Applejack with a smirk, knowing it would get her competitive side going.

"No way!" she said, "In fact, I should get bonus points for being able to keep up like this!"

"Ooh, save the fierceness fer the final," chuckled Applejack, "You'll need all the energy y'all can get!"

Rainbow Dash growled, and thought, "You're my friend, but not while we compete. I know I can win."

She wasn't really angry at her friend, but just like friends can be, they knew how to get under each other's skin. Even though it seemed harsh, after it was done, they knew they would be sipping cider and laughing about the whole thing.

At that point, Spike was thinking about Twilight Sparkle, wishing he could have been there to aid her in what ways he could. He didn't like leaving her alone, but Rarity needed help too. He just sighed and thought, "Good luck, princess, I hope you can get what you need in Mareginia for your book."

It then dawned on him. He could help her. He still hadn't sorted out those magazines that had been donated by Mr. O'Leary. Maybe she would be happy finding them all in order, and in doing that, he could also go through some and find out what he could to help with the book. He felt he could be a big help. Who knows what he would find in there?

Chapter 6

The princess arrived in Mareginia, and because of her status, it was found out long before that she would be arriving, and the paparazzi was there in force. She came off, shocked at all the flash bulbs and activity, and then remembering that she now had celebrity status: something she had yet to get used to by this point. She sadly remembered that she should have called ahead to make sure she could slip in under the radar. The questions were flying like crazy, but mainly oriented to why she was there and to what honor they owed her that she would grace them with her presence. When she mentioned the book, the place was now flooded with all kinds of questions. Yet, before she could answer, the police arrived to escort her to the center of town where a reception committee would be waiting to thank her for coming and to welcome her to town and to Mareginia. When she arrived, the mare and the governor of Mareginia were both there to welcome her. She sighed and shook her head, thinking, "Okay, lesson learned: make sure to be discreet when traveling to avoid this mess!"

After greeting and saying a few things, she was taken to a state dinner and was met by a press conference in that. She started to eat in her normal way, and then, after a few moments, remembered that cameras were on her, and quickly refined herself. With all eyes on her like this, she had to watch her P's and Q's. After talking about a few world events, questions about being a princess, she was finally asked why she was there. It was then she said she was there for research for a book she was writing—a biography. When she mentioned on who, all those of Mareginia perked up, excited that their first son was being remembered and honored. Of course, that led to the question of if she was going to visit Mrs. Sweedly, (who was still training after all this time,) and she answered, "Well, I really wanted a nice and quiet meeting," she said, afraid of this entourage following her and pestering her work. However, the governor stepped in and mentioned she would post some troopers around the school grounds for security and to allow her visit without interruption. The governor then whispered, saying, "Though, I only wished I had had more time to prepare for your coming."

"I'll make sure to send better warning next time," she said, "And I am sorry if I caused any problems."

"Oh, think nothing of it," he answered, "We thank you for coming."

With that, she thanked them and, once the dinner was done, was escorted to the nicest hotel in town, which was nothing more than a bed-and-breakfast, but it was a very nice place nonetheless. She went to bed, hoping for a good day of discovery.

Earlier, back at the track, the second round of the dressage was about to begin, and Rarity was eager to show that she really could handle the challenge. By this point, a semi-recovered Fluttershy finally arrived to root on Rainbow Dash, and saw the bandage on Rarity. "Oh my!" said Fluttershy, all worried, "Did you hurt yourself?"

Rarity sighed, frustrated, and then said, "It felt like something bit me."

"May I see?" asked Fluttershy, and looking at it, she said, "Uh oh, a deer fly bite."

"Deer fly?" said a confused Rarity, "Shouldn't they prefer deer?"

"Well, they take on anything that can provide a meal," answered Fluttershy, "I wonder if he is around?"

Rarity looked at her odd and then said, "Darling, you cannot be serious."

"Well, I have to be sure he didn't overeat," she answered, all concerned.

"I probably bucked him into the next county!" answered a frustrated Rarity.

"Oh no!" responded a now surprised Fluttershy, "I hope he wasn't hurt."

Rarity just stared as she watched Fluttershy begin to look for a fly of all things! After some searching, a barely flying deer fly spotted Fluttershy and came up to her, all forlorn. "Oh, hello," said Fluttershy, all in her gentle manner, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

He squeaked that he wasn't hurt, but he sure wished he hadn't overdone it. He was also angry that he had been so rudely ejected from his meal. "Now, now," said Fluttershy, "You cannot blame Rarity for what she did. She was caught by surprise, and was trying to compete. You must have interrupted her badly for her to have done that. You have to be careful on choosing your meals."

Now the deer fly looked down, and sighed that he had done this, and Fluttershy just gently smiled, saying, "It's okay. You didn't know what was going on. Come on, and you can say you're sorry, okay?"

He nodded and landed on her muzzle. She carried him over to Rarity, who now began to back up in a bit of fear for what was on Fluttershy's nose. It then took to the air with a touch of struggle as Fluttershy said, "He has something to say to you."

He came up between her eyes, all sorry, and squeaked, "I'm sorry," petting her on the muzzle. Rarity then said, "Well, it's okay this time, but please: be more careful."

He smiled and nodded as he went his way, and then Rarity said, "Wait, did I just have a conversation with a fly?"

After this, the second round of the dressage began, and Diamond Tiara snuffed at Sweetie Belle and said, "Ready to see your sister humiliate herself again?"

Sweetie Belle just glowered at Diamond Tiara, not really sure what to say. "I thought so," snuffed Diamond Tiara, with an evil and snobbish look on her face that seemed to say, "Know your place, underling."

With that, Diamond Tiara took her place on the calling stand and began to call the moves as subtly as she could. As she did, she then said, "A blank flank like her is a nopony! She doesn't have half the…um…the…hmm…half the whatever it is I have. She doesn't even come close! I'll show her!"

However, as she began to ponder this, she started to get excited, and as she did, she started to call out the moves a bit faster than her father would have cared for at that moment. Yet, there was no way to signal her to slow down, and had to do the best he could, speeding up as well. Yet, because of this, he was not as precise as he could have been, and was losing a bit of composure. She had learned the moves so well that she was almost doing it unconsciously, but as a result, it was connecting to her actual thoughts and making things not so good! She had finished and not realized it, and was jolted back to reality when her father said, "Diamond Tiara! We are done!"

She shook her head as if coming out of a trance, and her father trotted up, saying, "What was that all about?"

"What do you mean, father?" she asked, not sure what he meant. As an answer, the scores were coming up well, but less than perfect, and not what she would have expected at all. He then said, "You were going through it so fast, I had to speed up to keep up. What did I tell you about pacing?"

She was shocked. She had not realized she was doing it, and said, "But father, I, well, um, you see…"

He sighed and said, "Honey you have to keep focused…" and began to coach her as he led her away. As she went, she passed by Sweetie Belle, who did not even look at her, but just stood there with eyes closed and with a contented grin. "Rarity," came the call over the PA system, and Spike hopped up, sighing, but Rarity then said, "Oh, don't worry yourself, Spikey. I think we have this one in the bag, especially since I have your help."

His chest puffed up, and he was suddenly filled with all kinds of confidence. With that, they took to the ring, ready to go. His confidence was riding sky high, and it showed, as the two seemed to maneuver around the arena with precision and grace to the point where they seemed to be as one entity. Spike with his proud stance, and Rarity with her beauty and grace seemed the ideal pair. They worked through with ease to the point where it didn't even seem like a competition anymore, but a show to please the masses. Once they were back in the middle at the end of the routine, those who were fans of the form and watching applauded greatly. The scores came up, and they were all tens, save for the last, which was a 9.8, but it did not matter. She had won, and both she and Filthy Rich were on the starting squad. "Fantastic run, Miss Rarity," said Filthy Rich, with genuine compliments, "I would say, you did show some skill, especially with a rider."

"Well, you did well yourself, considering how fast you did that," she answered back, "It surprised me how fast you were working that."

"Well," he sighed, "My caller got herself lost in thought and forgot where she was, but no matter. The important part was, we both did well enough to be the starters when we go to actual events."

Diamond Tiara was embarrassed, and worse, because of the boasting she had done. She had caused her father to lose, and because she was so zealous to outdo Sweetie Belle or anything connected to her, she had caused what she was trying to prevent. Sweetie Belle was beaming as she stood by her sister, and looked dead at Diamond Tiara, who could not even bring herself to look at Sweetie Belle. She just snuffed and walked away, as both elders were completely oblivious to the status battle their kin were having at the moment.

Soon, it was time for the second round of the stadium jump, and both Applejack and Rainbow Dash got ready. This, of course was taking place as all the other events were happening. Big Macintosh once again showed his prowess in the weight pull, sheave toss, hammer throw, and weight toss, while the running events were taking place. This was the one Clark was taking the most interest in, and was yelling encouragement and advice as the ponies lined up for each distance to be run. Of all the events, this was the one he became the most energetic with, and his southern demeanor went to the wayside some as he now became a bit more vocal, louder, and confident. He truly looked like a pony in command, and in his element. Miss Cheerilee came up and said, "Well, I see why you wanted to teach. You seem such a natural."

"Well, that's because I had a good model t'fallah," he answered, "Mrs. Sweedly taught me all I ever knew, and she always was like this. I guess I just copied her."

"You certainly seem to put some of you into it as well," she responded, "I mean, being a teacher myself, I know how that is."

"I just hope I'm up to th'task," he admitted, "I mean, these is grown-up ponies. You've got young'uns. I halfta think they'll be much different."

"Oh, don't worry about that," she assured him, "I'll be right there to help."

He smiled at this, and it could be seen that a friendship was forming between the two. However, Miss Cheerilee was beginning to feel her heart beat a bit more, but shook it off as she thought, "Slow down, Cheerilee. You just met, and you are colleagues…professionals. It's not good to mix work and social."

She sighed, and just continued to watch the events, wondering why she was feeling the way she was.

Soon, the timed portion of the jumping began, and both Applejack and Rainbow Dash had only made four faults, while everyone else had better times but more faults. The field was narrowed down a bit more, and then came the last run. First up was Rainbow Dash. She became focused as she normally would for any competition, and got lost in her own world. With that, she took off. She took the tall ones with no problem, the hedge jumps, hit the doubles with ease, cleared the water without so much as a hoof brushing it, strained at, but cleared the gate, hit the oxer and barely cleared it but was clean. She accelerated and hit the triple bar, sensing how close she was, and became a bit nervous. She knew she had to go fast, but not so fast as to be careless. It got easier again, hitting hogsback and then a wall, and then accelerating to hit the combination to finish, and this one consisted of a vertical jump, then a fan, followed by an offset oxer, with no more than two strides between them. She cleared the wall, made the fan, and then lost her pace a touch and brushed the lower bar on the back end of the oxer as she went. The bar bounced, but stayed put. The announced the run: "Clean run, and a time of 2 minutes 37 seconds."

Rainbow Dash immediately removed her garb and flexed her wings a few times to get out the stiffness. She sighed, knowing that she would indeed be one of the starters, but knew she had to find a better way than binding her wings to do this. Applejack said, "Well, that was pretty good. But just sit down on that stool right there and let me show you how a rodeo champ does it."

"I bet without the awesomeness I just showed," she said, trying a bit of gamesponyship, but at the same time hoping her friend did as well, just not as awesome. Applejack then said, "I don't need t'be awesome, I just need t'win."

She nodded and watched Applejack take the starting line. She did want AJ to do well, but she had a rep to protect.

Applejack looked things over and finally realized, "Hey, this ain't no different than jumpin' at the rodeo. They is the same kind of jumps; they just look all fancy, that's all."

She then got her game face on, just as she would at any rodeo, and took off. Though she was a rustic country filly, she was brimming with confidence about something she had done many times before. Because of this brimming confidence, she was hitting the jumps hard, high, and with a poise and grace that seemed to accent her simple beauty. Even the stallions around looked at her a touch differently because of what she was doing. One said, "Wow, she sure is taming that course!"

"Yeah," said his friend, "But who could ever tame her!"

Rainbow Dash watched in awe. She had to admit it. Applejack looked, well, awesome! Yet, this was a different kind of awesome than she had ever seen before. "Gee," she muttered, "I guess there are different kinds of awesomeness. I'm going to have to pick her mind to see just how she's doing it. That's an awesome that I have yet to experience!"

Finally, she came to the triple combo, but she was so amped up by the run through that she popped over each one as if they were kiddie level jumps, taking it in a gait that looked like she was taking a stroll, but a fast stroll. She charged the line, and the hooves of the spectators and her teammates could be heard stomping all over the place by her run. The announcer then spoke: "Clean run, with a time of 2 minutes 30 seconds."

"Alright!" shouted Applejack, "That's what I'm talkin' about!"

Rainbow Dash, acting like it was nothing, but secretly thinking, "That was the best run ever! You rock, girl!" said, "Yeah, yeah…but I'll get you next time."

Applejack then said, "I do believe this makes us tied again?"

"Yeah, it does, come to think of it," said Rainbow Dash, as the groundskeepers were quickly clearing the infield of everything that had been there and reshaping the whole thing for the steeplechase. This would crisscross all of Ponyville Downs, and because some was dirt, hard ground, and turf, it would truly put the runners to the test. It was also a race that the pair were both entered into, and Rainbow Dash then said, "Okay, this is to break the tie!"

However, Clark had come up behind them, overhearing things, and said, "Okay, just be sure you don't break your legs."

They both turned and said, "Huh?"

"Did I mention," he then said, "That this happens t'be the most dangerous event? One wrong move and y'all will end up in the hospital."

He walked away, leaving them both with mouths agape and wide eyes, wondering if their rivalry had gotten them in a bit too deep.

They were now at the starting gates, looking over the hedge jumps they would have to clear, some with water on the other side, and all tall enough to where their shins would be brushing them as they went over. This was going to be a muddy, messy, and treacherous race. They were now wearing helmets, racing silks, knee pads, and there was not going to be any worries about trying to stay neat. This was a no-holds-barred event. They both took a deep swallow and a deep breath to try to focus. The bell sounded and the gates slammed open. They tore down the track, and were shocked to see just how much pushing and bumping was going on. It was not being done in the sense of trying to hurt one another or cheat, but at the same time, they were fighting hard as they jockeyed for position. Soon, they were getting bumped around and practically smashing through the jumps rather than over them, and soon found themselves last. As they went, AJ shouted to Dash, "Okay, so I don't think this is really our thing. So, let's just try to concern ourselves with our competition."

Rainbow Dash then just nodded, and they went along. However, over a megaphone, they could hear, "Dash! Applejack! Y'all wanted t'do this! Get th'lead out and get into this thing!"

It was Clark, acting as a coach would, and now wanting them to actually try to win. They both groaned and picked up the pace.

The course was long and serpentine. It wound this way and that, challenging every part of them to stay in it. Because they were working so hard to race one another, they were now catching and passing the rest of the pack, chasing the leaders. However, the leaders were obviously well groomed for this kind of event, as they knew best how to attack such a course. Therefore, they were going to try, but knew they had no chance. The best they could hope for was alternates as the top three were making distance. They hit the next water jump, but found themselves right in the muddy water, filthy and wet, but they kept on. They cut around the last turn and barreled down the last 300 yards, neither one looking at the other, as the three winners crossed the line. Then was their turn, just as the rest of the pack was coming behind them. This pushed them on, and they both charged under the wire, the cameras clicking with each crossing. They then both collapsed, exhausted, and Rainbow Dash gasped, "Did…I…beat you?"

"Not…sure," gasped Applejack in return, "Wasn't really…watchin'"

"Neither was…I," rasped Rainbow Dash. It was at this point that Clark came up and said, "Well, y'all both made the alternates. That means that if one of the starters gets hurt, yer it."

They groaned, and Clark then said, "That means y'all are gonna halfta do a lot a conditionin' work, but I think y'all be better fer it."

"Okay," said Rainbow Dash, "I get it, already. But, who won?"

He smiled as he produced a photo with the two of them so close they might as well have been a mirror image of each other, nose for nose, body for body, and step for step. They both just sighed, knowing that, once again, the title of iron pony would have to wait for another day to be settled.

After it was over, Applejack and Rainbow Dash both looked sore and tired. Rarity then said, "Ah, I think this calls for a trip to the day spa. By the looks of the two of you, you could use it."

They both groaned in agreement, and as they entered, the workers saw the pair, sounded the alarm, and said, "Uh-oh! Code blue: two ponies in need of strong pampering, stat!"

They both called out, "Waaaaah!" as they were swept away, and Rarity looked at Spike, saying, "Coming in?"

"Nah," he answered, "I'm going back to the library. I'm going to get some rest and then hit those magazines Mr. O'Leary left me. While Twilight is getting her information, I'll be getting some for her myself. I've watched her do research a bunch of times before, so this should be a piece of cake."

"Cake?" said Pinkie Pie, appearing out of nowhere, "That's a great idea! We'll have a 'we all made the team' party tomorrow night! Oh, I can't wait!"

She bounced off, already calculating what she was going to get ready, and leaving everyone, once again, with a "How does she do that," simultaneous thought. Meanwhile, Spike said, "Well, I just want Twilight to know I can be useful to her, even if she's not here. I have a rep as her #1 assistant to protect, you know!"

Rarity giggled and said, "Well, good luck to you, Spike, and thank you for all your help. We make quite a team!"

With that, she gave him a peck on the cheek and went in. Spike was on cloud nine again, practically dancing his way back to the library. Yeah, he'd get on it the next day. Right now, he wanted to remember this moment, and the victory they had shared together.

Chapter 7

The next day, Spike was up early, earger to get to work on finding our more about Clerkalariet and aid Twilight in her efforts to write a book. After a quick breakfast, he was on his way. He started with the most obvious one, and that was the old one that marked Clerkalariet as the sportspony of the year. However, it didn’t have pictures of him not in his racing slicks, and pretty much told him what he had already knew. He sifted around a bit more, and found the one where he had one the Ducky Derby in record time, and indeed, it dealt with speculations of him winning the Triple Crown that year. This time, it did have photos of him with at least the hood of the racing slicks off, and this pony did cut a handsome figure. The thing was, his mane was cut short, and he looked young. Yet, he did seem familiar, but not so familiar as to be able to place the face with anypony he knew. The next one he found was dealing with the Speak Nice Stakes. This time, there was a photo of him without the slicks, but only had his front half. His coat indeed justified his nickname of Big Red. Sure, he was more of a brownish-red, and not like Big Mac, and he was not quite as big, but was still built. In fact, he was rather cut, and it seemed all the hoof racers were similar in build. In some of the photos from the race, that cut could be seen somewhat despite the silks they all wore, all colorful, and all as such that could help anypony pick out one from the other. There was another photo of him post-race, with one of his trainers hosing him down after the race to cool him off, but his cutie mark was obscured, and if there was any way to identify him, that was prevented yet again. Spike then thought, “Come on, Spike! Twilight must know all of this. You have to find out some personal stuff!”
He dug again and found a copy of “The Sporting Pony News.” It had a close up of Big Red again and said, “Clerkalariet, one-on-one.”
“Yes, that should help!” he said, and started pouring over the article.

Twilight was soon at Mrs. Sweedly’s ranch, and Mrs. Sweedly was there at the gates to meet her, all pleased as punch to meet her. Being the good southern pony she was, she gave Twilight the typical greeting: a big, warm hug. However, the paparazzi that followed her there all looked shocked and horrified at this, all accompanied with the standard gasp that came along with it. You just didn’t hug royalty like that! It was such bad etiquette, or seemingly so, as Twilight said, “Please, everyone, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I think it’s nice she wanted to greet me so warmly.”
This was followed by a wave of photo flashes and scribbling on notepads, some questioning her, but many others amazed that she was at her position, and yet had not lost her common touch. Mrs. Sweedly said, “We were about t’sit down t’some breakfast. Have you eaten, dear?”
Again, the press corps scribbled, Mrs. Sweedly calling Twilight “dear” and Twilight not seeming to mind. Twilight then said, “Actually, I haven’t, and I do appreciate your hospitality. I would he honored.”
With a warm smile, Mrs. Sweedly escorted her in, and the paparazzi tried to follow, but found the gate rudely closed in their faces, the security saying, “Only family and those with invitations can enter. Sorry.”
They all shouted in protest, but there was nothing they could do. Relieved, Twilight said, “Goodness, and thank you: that can be so annoying. I have not gotten used to such attention.”
“Well, y’all get used to it after a while,” she said, “And you learn at some point that shuttin’ them out is not bein’ rude or mean. Most o’ the time, they ain’t out t’write nice things anyway, and the less they know ‘bout yer private life, the better.”
“Really?” said Twilight as she sat to breakfast, “From what I can gather, ponies training with you seem to have that mindset,” not yet mentioning the way that Clark seemed to like his privacy. He was not open to visitors, but was truly enigmatic about much of himself. Perhaps it was Mrs. Sweedly’s influence, and she had to admit that such reasoning did make sense. She would have to remember that, and later ask Princess Celestia and Luna about these matters. However Mrs. Sweedly then said, “Now, what gives y’all that impression, honey?”
“Well, we have a new track coach and phys-ed teacher in Ponyville now,” she answered, “And he said he was trained here, so I figured that what you said must have rubbed off on your students. In fact, he said he had trained with Clerkalariet, and it was because of seeing Clerkalariet’s Triple Crown run on film got me curious to learn more about him. In fact, I am writing a biography about him, and that’s what brought me here.”
“Oh, well, that’s great,” she said, “I can tell ya all about him. However, what is there y’all can learn from me that ain’t already known ‘bout him?”
“Well, that’s just it,” she said, “This new pony told me some things about him, and I figured you could give me some things the books don’t say that can help people know the kind of pony he really was.”
“Ah, I see!” she said, with a big smile, “Then right after we eat, I’ll start with our museum.”
“Great!” answered Twilight, “I love things like that.”
“And don’t y’all worry ‘bout gawkers,” added Mrs. Sweedly, “It’s closed right now so as we can keep down the chaos.”

Later on, they went through the museum, looking at photos, trophies, the history of the sport, the picture of the great Stallion O’ War, who was sire to many greats himself. He had also trained at this school long before Mrs. Sweedly became proprietor. All the way along, she was telling little stories and anecdotes about his childhood and teenage years. In the intimate ways she spoke of him, you had the feel of the matron Mrs. Sweedly was to all her students, she must having felt a surrogate mother to all of them. Soon, the came to a long room that had beds, wall lockers and foot lockers, and gear that was used by the racers that each bed was representing. The first was of Stallion O’ War, and you could indeed see the era of racing in which he raced by the bed, locker, and other such things. On the front bedposts was a plaque with an embossed head of that pony, a few details about that pony, and his career. There were about four triples winners in the stallion department, as to that date, there had only been a total to pull of the triple, and a bunch of near misses, and Mrs. Sweedly wasn’t the only one who trained racers. It was just that this school had some of the more notable ones. In fact, though Stallion O’ War had not won the triple, his son, War General, had himself won, and both had attended the school. Mrs. Sweedly then pointed to the bed next to what War General had used and said, “And this one belonged to his younger brother, Sea Crumpet.”
“Is that the name his father gave him?” asked Twilight, wondering about the unique name.
“Well, not really,” she said, “Racers like t’choose racin’ names t’help out the fans t’know who’s who out there on the track. It was what he chose. However, it’s interestin’ how Sea Crumpet built his legend.”
“Oh this should be good,” she thought, “Knowing about the culture and history will give me a feel of the sport, and help me write an accurate biography.”
Mrs. Sweedly continued, “Now, at first, Sea Crumpet didn’t seem like he’d really amount t’anythin’. His brother won the triple the year before, and when Sea Crumpet was ready fer those races, he didn’t fare so well. Some were even tryin’ t’compare him to his older brother, and said he’d never measure up. His brother even tried encourage him t’get out o’ the game before he embarrassed himself. All that did was spur him on, and he came back to th’school, even though he had already graduated and had his own coach and trainers. He had told the head teacher at that time that he was th’only one who could understand him, and he needed t’find out what was goin’ on. After watchin’ him fer a bit, his coach realized that he was havin’ sumpthin as simple as pacin’ issues, and taught him t’just find a pony t’keep pace with, wait fer his chance, and then use that t’vault himself to th’lead. It was sumpthin so simple, and yet it did the trick. He won his next two races, finished second in the next two, and now wanted t’ prove his bother wrong. He challenged him to a match race. Though his brother was also winnin’ left and right, he felt he could beat him. Yet, the press still wouldn’t give him half a chance. After all, War General had won the triple, and Sea Crumpet was just now gettin’ some kinda stride. Still, Sea Crumpet wanted some closure. He knew that, if he was t’build his own legend, he would have t’make a mark that would get him out from behind both his brother’s, and even his father’s, shadows. His brother got angry, and even begged Sea Crumpet to back off. He was angry, because he feared his brother would hurt himself more than help himself. In other words, he felt he couldn’t win, and didn’t want t’see him hurt more than he had already been. However, the more he begged him off, the more Sea Crumpet insisted. Finally, he just gave in and said to his brother, ‘I still think yer makin’ a big mistake. Y’don’t need this.’ But Sea Crumpet said, ‘I have to. Besides, the family name is at stake, and if I can’t show m’self t’be nearly th’kind a racer you are, I shame father.’ So the race was set.”
“My goodness,” responded Twilight, “I am surprised something like that didn’t split them.”
“Actually,” pondered Mrs. Sweedly, “It was probably th’best thing they coulda done. It would actually end up mendin’ any rifts that were bein’ created, because both would end up earnin’ th’respect of one another. When the race was set, everypony that was anypony packed the park. It was flank t’flank that day. When the signal went, they both tore down th’track. Yet, since War General was th’only other pony there to pace, Sea Crumpet had t’work hard just t’keep up, but keep up he did! Sea Crumpet learned more of a respect for what his brother could do, and War General learned more respect for his brother, realizin’ now that had Sea Crumpet known what t’do the year before, he’d a won the triple himself! Fer three quarters of the race, Sea Crumpet kept his nose right behind and to the inside a his brother’s hind quarters. Then, at the back turn, Sea Crumpet felt his second wind, saw the openin’ and tore off, sayin, ‘So long, Charlie,’ seein’ that his brother had hit a wall. Y’see, War General had been pushed so hard by his brother, he pushed harder than he normally woulda, and lost his own pace, burning out a bit sooner than he normally would have. Sea Crumpet was tired himself, but that adrenaline rush hit him, and there was no stoppin’ him. Sea Crumpet won by a full length. Th’crowd was stunned at first, and then went crazy as they had seen what had t’have been the greatest upset in racin’ history. From that day forward, the boys were inseparable, trained together, and raced together. They truly helped build their legends together.”
“That was such a great story!” said Twilight, “And I never knew what kind of a family affair racing was.”
“Oh, it can be,” answered Mrs. Sweedly led her along, and Twilight was delighted to also find fillies marked, showing about three winners of the lesser known Triple Tiara in races that were exclusively for the girls. However, that did not prohibit the girls from running with the boys, and this was marked by a bed that had been the one used by a filly that went by the name of Acceptable Risk. “Why did she call herself that?” asked Twilight.
“She was indeed a filly who could put th’boys t’shame,” said Mrs. Sweedly, “It was a tremendous honor t’train her. Reminded me of my own racin’ days.”
“Oh, and how did you do in your day?” asked Twilight.
Mrs. Sweedly blushed a bit and said, “Well, modesty prevents me somewhat, but…” and she pointed to a bed that bore her racing name, and showed that she had won the Triple Tiara herself. Not wanting to pry, she asked, “So, what did Risk do?”
“She did better than any filly in the Triple Crown races ever!” she said with confidence, “She won the Ducky Derby, and finished in second in the Speak Nice and Belle Mountain.”
“Has any filly ever won the crown?”
“Sadly, not yet,” answered Mrs. Sweedly, “but we cannot give up hope.”
They then came to a more modern set up and Mrs. Sweedly said, “And I think this one should build your interest.”
Indeed, it was Clerkalariet’s. The plaque read, “Arguably, the greatest racing pony in history, having won the Triple Crown in record time for all three races, and never finishing out of the money save for his first race. Other successes include…” and it went on to mark his triumphs. She took time to look things over, and Mrs. Sweedly said, “It is set up in just the way he always kept his area.”
Hearing that, Twilight began to look closer and closer at it, getting a feel for the kind of pony this Clerkalariet was. Indeed, it showed by how neat and humble his choice of bedding was, the way he kept his lockers and table, that he was not a show off by any stretch. To her, Clerkalariet was as humble was Rainbow Dash was confident. Mrs. Sweedly then said, “And we can go watch them in training as I’ll tell you some interesting stories.”

Spike took detailed notes about Clerkalariet’s life, much of what Mrs. Sweedly was now currently telling Twilight at that moment. However, Yet, in the pictures, there was no indication of just who this pony was. In fact, not only did none of the articles that he had yet read mention his real name versus his racing name, but none of them showed his cutie mark clearly. Spike figured that, if he could find that mark, he could look it up in some encyclopedias and see if he could learn more than the magazines were telling him. At this, Owlowicious flew down to see what Spike was up to, and Spike said, “Oh, hi Owlowicious,” to which Owlowicious cocked his head as if to ask what he was doing. Spike responded by saying, “I’m trying to help Twilight on her book on Clerkalariet.”
“Who,” answered Owlowicious.
“Clerkalariet,” answered Spike.
“Who.”
“Only the greatest hoof racer ever.”
“Who.”
“This guy, right here,” pointing to his picture.
“Who.”
“I just…ugh,” sighed Spike, realizing he was falling for it again. Yet, Owlowicious looked over the table and then ambled over to one of them, tapping it with his beak, and saying, “Who,” again as he did. “Yes,” answered Spike, “That’s who.”
He looked at it, and then saw the headline, “Clerkalariet Mystery: Where Has He Gone?”
Spike saw that as odd and opened it, reading the article. It seemed that there had been much in controversy stirred up about Clerkalariet, and most of it pushed by his arch rival Shemp over all that time. Shemp had never believed that Clerkalariet had ever won anything honest, and pushed over and over again that Clerkalariet had cheated somehow. At first, he was written off as being jealous. Yet, it began to gain legs as time passed and Clerkalariet continued to dominate the sport. Now, he was being pressed more and more to talk. Clerkalariet denied it over and over again, but eventually retired in his prime, citing that the politics was just getting to be too much, and decided to leave. Yet, not long after he did, he seemed to just vanish off the face of Equestria, and that made Shemp accuse even more, claiming he had gotten out before anyone could learn the full truth. Yet, as he went, he turned the page, and his jaw proverbially hit the table!

As they sat in the stands, Mrs. Sweedly was showing her skill as a multitasker by talking to Twilight, telling stories, and tracking the progress of the students. For example, Twilight asked, “So, how did Clerkalariet pick his name?”
“Oh, well, it’s funny, really,” answered Mrs. Sweedly, “After he graduated, he needed a job while waitin’ fer his career t’take off, and he got a job as a clerk in a rope and lariat shop. He changed the spelling a bit, and decided that ‘Clerkalariet’ would be a good play on his humble startin’: Clerkalariet…clerk of lariats.”
They both giggled at his choice as the eldest of the ponies took the track for a ten furlong training race. Mrs. Sweedly then said, “Here is the main reason why I wanted you t’see this.”
She pointed at a black stallion with a shaggy sea blue mane and tail, and for a cutie mark, he had a sea horse with a saddle on it, also done in sea style colors. “He is the best of his class,” stated Mrs. Sweedly, “And the best potential to win the triple as his uncle had done. He has chosen the name of Sea Saddle Stew.”
“That’s an interesting name,” responded Twilight, “I think I can guess why; his mane and tail color and cutie mark.”
“You do have a good eye,” affirmed Mrs. Sweedly, “When you see him run, he flows like water. Watch.”
With that, the bell sounded, and they took off. His strategy, however, was different than most ponies she had yet observed in this sport. He didn’t stay to the back and wait for his move. He made his move right out of the gate! He not only took the lead, but set a pace that the others could chase, but he knew they could not keep up. He indeed flowed and moved smoothly, and was terribly fast. Never once did he relinquish the lead. Mrs. Sweedly then said, “He can actually run faster, and could actually put ‘em all far behind. Yet, he understands two things: if he did that, he’d blow out, and that he’s able t’gauge the ability of the rest of the field. Because of that, he can set the pace that causes th’others t’think they can catch him, but never quite lettin’ them catch up. He then can get in their heads and beat ‘em that way. Because of that, he’s never been concerned about settin’ records. He just wants t’win, and is a master at strategy. So different than his uncle.”
“Uncle, you say,” answered Twilight, “And what’s his real name.”
“Oh, it’s Stewart O’Leary,” she answered off hand.
“Steward…O’Leary?” asked Twilight, “You know, the name of that new teacher is Clark O’Leary. Is there any relation?”
Mrs. Sweedly went stiff, and her eyes went wide. “Who did you say?” she said with surprise in her voice.
“Clark O’Leary,” answered Twilight, “He said he went to this school and knew Clerkalariet.”
After some uncomfortable moments of silence, Mrs. Sweedly said, “He is related. Clark’s father is Stew’s grandfather and his brother’s son. Yet, I don’t get what he meant by went t’school with Clerkalariet.”
Now Twilight was confused, “Hold on, I don’t get it. Was he lying about knowing him?”
“Far from it,” said Mrs. Sweedly, now tearing a bit, “Because, well…”
Mrs. Sweedly seemed to be tearing up from joy, as if she had just learned something good, and it didn’t take Twilight too long to put two and two together. “Wait, are you saying that…”

Spike was going over the article Owlowicious had found, and then came across a full and clear photograph of Clerkalariet, and a mention of his real name. He could just not believe it. “No way!” he uttered in amazement, ironically coming to the same conclusion Twilight was at that very moment, seeming to echo her as he said, “Wait, is this saying…” and then said, “Clark O’Leary IS Clerkalariet?”

Chapter 8

Spike stared in disbelief. A living legend had moved into the town, and he said nothing about it! Now he was confused. Why would he not tell anyone? This got more and more odd the longer he pondered it. He had to find out. With that, he said, "Owlowicious, watch the library," said Spike, "I'm going to get some answers."

"Who!" protested Owlowicious, looking at him sternly, as if to say, "If he wanted to tell us, he would have. Don't pry."

"Oh, don't look at me like that," protested Spike in return, "I just have to know why he went into hiding. Hey, if he did something wrong, dontcha think someone should know?"

"Who?" answered Owlowicious, this time with an eyebrow raised, as if to say, "Really?"

"*Sigh* Look, Twilight was getting some answers for her book," responded Spike, "This would just be getting that information."

Owlowicious just stared at him now, knowing well that, once Spike got something in his head to do, he was going to do it, and there was no stopping him, much to his chagrin. Spike hopped off the stool and headed for Ponyville Downs.

At the school, Twilight and Mrs. Sweedly shared a few silent moments, not knowing what to say. Finally, Twilight said, "Please, tell me he did nothing wrong."

"No, darlin'," she added, "It ain't nuthin like that at all. Though, there were some said he did so while racin'…"

She began to drift off in thought, and Twilight then asked, "Just what did they say?"

Mrs. Sweedly sighed and said, "They said he done cheated somehow. They said he used some kinda unicorn magic, or he done used some kinda potions, sumpthin'. However y'all slice it, they don't think he done it honest."

"So?" said Twilight, "I would think he'd just ignore it and move on."

"It's more than that," she said, "Remember how much teasin' he took as a young colt? I don't think he ever got over it."

"Please tell me he had friends," she asked, now starting to get it.

"Few, if any," answered Mrs. Sweedly, "Kinda was a loner 'cause a all of it."

"Somehow, I think I know why," said Twilight, things now dawning on her. If he had taken that much unwanted and undeserved abuse and accusations both in foalhood and adulthood, how could one ever be able to bear that world? Now it made sense: get out of that world, leave all the pain behind, anything attached to it, and start over with ponies who didn't know you. Yet, he never strayed far from the track, which was also odd. If he wanted a clean break, why stay close to it? It was clear to her that he still loved the game and racing. Indeed, it was what he was seemingly born to do, but how could he do it if all your special talent did was bring one grief. She pondered Clark's nephew and then said, "What does Stew think about what happened?"

"He's kinda confused," said Mrs. Sweedly, "Stewie's taken his share of flak and hoof pointin', but I guess he was just born with a thick skin. In fact, he don't say nuthin' and just lets it push him harder. It's like he's a sayin', 'If y'all think I ain't honest, prove it, and try an' beat me on the track. Put up or shut up.' Sadly, he's not all that sure why he quit. He feels he just shoulda let his racin' do the talkin' fer him."

"In other words," said Twilight, which was finished by Mrs. Sweedly, who said, "…he admires what he done on the track, but wishes that he never ran away. He looks up to his uncle in what he done on th'track, and he a love to admire him fer much more, but he does see him as a bit of a quitter. Worse, he never really knew him, so he's a got all kinda questions."

Twilight looked at the track again and saw some of the students milling around and talking, one of them being Stew. She said, "He has to know."

"Are you sure, sweetie?" answered Mrs. Sweedly, "I mean, ain't it best to let sleepin' dogs lie?"

"It's not that," answered Twilight, "I mean, there's so much in Mr. O'Leary's head about the sport that, well, not just Stew, but all these ponies could benefit. Maybe Stew could talk some sense into him."

Mrs. Sweedly sighed and said, "Not sure what good it would do but stir up a hornet's nest, but I guess there ain't nuthin' stoppin' you. I just ain't sure it's gonna end up well."

Twilight, however, was already turned about on the word "well" and was headed out to where Stew was. She had no idea why she was starting to meddle, and had her doubts, but something told her, at the very least, the family would probably love to know where Clark was, and if there was any chance for healing, it needed to come.

It was not long after class let out and Clark was back in his house, grateful he had the afternoon off, this not being a practice day. Still, he was looking to shoe up and hit the track. Yet, before he could, there was a fast knocking at the door. Clark looked through the peep hole and saw it was the baby dragon that had helped Rarity in the dressage. Yet, he seemed to be hiding it behind something behind his back. Clark, curious, opened it and said, "Well, young'un, what brings…"

But he could not finish his sentence as Spike entered as if he owned the place, all excited, saying, "My goodness, I've met other powerful ponies before, but never a living sports legend like you! Wow, this is so neat! I mean, why didn't you tell anyone?"

He held up the Sports Pony Illustrated magazine that had Clark as Athlete of the Year and said, "Can you give me your autograph? I mean, the value on this would skyrocket, and, oh, wouldn't Big Mac be jealous."

Clark just started at him, and then said, "Son, just what are y'all goin' on about? I have no idea what y'all are talkin' about."

"Aw, c'mon on," said Spike, waiving his claw, "Don't be so modest. Those magazines told me everything. Goodness, you sure had all of us fooled!"

Clark shuddered and now realized that, in his haste to get settled, he had not gone through the magazines before he donated them and pulled out any reference to himself. There was no hiding it. Yet, this did not mean it did not have to spread. He looked Spike dead in his eyes and said, "And just who else did y'all flap yer gums at 'bout this?"

Spike was shook a bit at the stern look Clark gave him, not certain what that was all about and swallowed as he said, "Um, nopony else?"

"Y'all certain about that?" asked Clark, to which Spike pumped his head up and down, and Clark became more relaxed as he asked, "Y'all put any of those on the racks?"

"No," said Spike, and Clark said, "Follow me."

Spike did as Clark opened a door, turned on a light to a room that had blankets put over them, and if this had not been Clark's home, Spike could have sworn some Clerkalariet fancolt had set up a shrine with Clerkalariet memorabilia. Spike stared in amazement as he walked around looking at the photos, paintings, trophies, and one set in a prominent place that was nothing more than a silver triangle shaped bowl on a stand marked "Triple Crown Winner," each side marked with the races that consisted of the crown. By one wall, set up in a large fame was Clark's old racing silks. As Spike stared at the crown trophy, Clark then asked, "So, now y'all know. I am Clerkalariet? What I wanna know is, what are ya gonna do now that y'all know?"

Spike did not answer that one, but instead asked, "Look at all this. I don't get it. Why… Why are you hiding it? I would think you'd be proud of all this."

"I am," answered Clark, "But, take yerself a seat in the drawin' room. I have a story t'tell y'all."

After some time passed, Spike got the whole picture, but, at the same time, felt bad for Clark. Clark had achieved more in a short time than other ponies probably did in their whole lives, and yet he could not really enjoy it. Everything he had done had been tainted, and it had nothing to do with Clark. Clark had not been the one to tarnish his wins; it was jealous fools who had no want to try to do the work it took for Clark to have what he had. Thanks to Twilight and her friends, he had not only seen much about friendship, but every aspect of the elements that made them up. In so doing, one thing he had learned clearly was that it was only hard work that was rewarded and brought the greatest gains. Not only did you earn it, but it felt much more valuable to earn what you had rather than gain it. One appreciated it more. Moreover, you gained it just by being yourself. Nopony had the right to tell you that you didn't earn it, because no other pony had done what you did to get what you had, and they had no ambition to do. What Spike didn't understand was the logic by tainting Clark's achievements. Spike then asked, "But, why did they say all those things?"

"Spike," said Clark, flatly, "There's sumpthin' y'all gotta understand 'bout this world. The press can get ugly, and what sells more papers is scandals, and not the ordinary."

At first, Spike looked quizzical at that, but then remembered what had happened with the Cutie Mark Crusaders when they worked for their school paper. They played their games with yellow journalism, and it came back to bite them hard in the hind quarters. Yet, that caused Spike to ask, "But, certainly the truth had to have come out by now. Why is this still going around?"

"It's 'cause there weren't nopony else in that business willin' t'say sumpthin' t'defend me," answered Clark, "As long as there was profit t'be made on that, they would not stop 'till they had assassinated my character totally. I'll lay you dimes t'bits that their main goal was t'destroy me, write 'bout my disgrace, then write 'bout my struggles to come back, overcome, and had I stayed in the game an' kept on winnin', my great comeback from shame to honor."

Spike shook his head, his mind swimming trying to figure out the logic in any of that. He then waived his claws in front of him and said, "Wait, hold on, I don't get this! Why the rigmarole?"

"Simply put," answered Clark, "Celebrities like m'self, once y'get such fame, live in a fishbowl. All y'all is, is sumpthin' to hang yer star on. And if y'all are the press…"

He stopped, realizing he might be confusing the young dragon more, and said, "Y'all ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword?"

"Well, I've heard Twilight mention something like that," he answered, "Not quite sure what she meant."

After staring out the window for a moment, he looked back at Spike and said, "Too many in the press these days are more out t'make money rather than print the truth. Used t'be a time where the press was an instrument a'justice; when they'd use the power of th'press t'exopse those who would harm others, makin' it hard fer dishonest ponies to scam or harm others. When y'had a good reputation with th'public, their probably gonna respect anything y'all say. Yet, th'same power t'do that can also be used to manipulate other t'doin' what ya want, and all fer personal gain."

"But, why does the general public not call them out on it?" asked Spike.

"Well, if there are enough honest ones out there," answered Clark, "then it becomes easy fer the greedy, power hungry ones t'hide behind them and say what they say, knowin' that, if they're part of an honest paper, they'll be believed without question. Then, they can make their name by manipulatin' yer life to be what they want it t'be so they can write 'bout it and gainin' fame by yer fame, 'specially if it's breakin' ya down, and then buildin' ya back up. They don't care a fig how it hurts you. It's worse when there are others who buy their garbage and then come after y'all and ride ya constantly. They ride ya 'cause the press is ridin' ya."

As he was saying this, a tear rolled down his face. It was clear that he was still hurting over the whole thing. He then said, "So, rather than give them the satisfaction, I left, let 'em write what they like, and start over in a place where they'd not be able to hurt me."

Looking right at Spike, he then said, "And that's why you can't tell a livin' soul whatcha know. I want to leave it behind and start again."

Spike was stunned and saddened that anypony could be so cruel. What did Clark ever to do anypony? "It's not fair," he said, holding back tears himself."

"I know, son," answered Clark, "But, y'all is gonna learn that, sometimes, this world ain't so nice a place. Be happy yer home is here in Ponyville. Compared t'some other places I've been, this is paradise."

After some quiet, Spike had a feeling he should move along before he had worn out his welcome. It seemed that Clark wanted to be alone and he said, "Well, um… I guess I'll just head on back now. Still have some things to do at the castle…"

Yet, as he was going, Clark said, "Wait a moment."

Clark grabbed a pen and signed the magazine, saying, "Just don't say where y'got it."

Spike smiled and nodded. There was nothing really more to say as he headed out. Yet, once Spike had closed the door behind him, after a few moments, Clark broke down, crumbled to the floor, and cried uncontrollably.

Twilight went to trackside, and once Stew recognized her for a princess, he bowed the knee, and Twilight said, "Oh, please, you don't have to stand on ceremony for me. I'm just here on a friendly visit."

"Well, y'all don't get to see a princess all that often," he said, "I figured it had to be something special."

"Actually, I'm working on a book," she said, "But, I have to say, for somepony from this area, you don't really have an accent."

"Oh, that's because I traveled around a bit as a foal," he answered, "Kinda blended it out of me, though a few things slip in now and again, like 'kinda,' and 'y'all'."

Twilight giggled at his friendly candor, and he then asked, "So, what's the book about?"

"Well, it is going to be about your uncle," she answered.

"Oh," he said, now a bit less enthusiastic, but he quickly shook it off and said, "Well, it would make sense if you came here for research."

"Well," he said, stirring a hoof in the process, "It initially was, but, well…"

She hesitated, not sure how to bring up the matter, and then said, "Well, there's a new pony in Ponyville, and he's taken over as the local track coach and phys-ed teacher in the school. He said he had been a racer at one time, and by him, I learned about your uncle. His story intrigued me no end. It just seemed sad that his story might be lost, so I figured I'd preserve it and make sure it was not lost."

Stew nodded and said, "Well, that's sensible enough," now a bit easier, knowing she was not there to try to talk about his uncle of whom he knew little save what history already knew and what his father had told him. He then said, "If he's been in the circles, (referring to racing,) then I might have heard of him. What's the pony's name?"

"Well…" said Twilight, a bit hesitantly, not sure how he would react, and she said, "You see, that's the thing; the name of the pony is Clark O'Leary."

This was followed by thunderous silence and a shocked look on Stew's face. If no one else ever had known Clark was Clerkalariet, his family certainly would have known, considering Stew bore the same last name. For Stew, there was disbelief. "You said, 'Clark O'Leary,' right?" he said, knowing that an answer was not necessary; he had heard her loud and clear, "Is this THE Clark O'Leary known as Clerkalariet, I assume?"

Stew as not sure he really wanted to know. It was as if you just told him a dead relative was suddenly brought back to life. Twilight saw he was nervous, and she said, "I didn't even know that Clerkalariet's real name was Clark, but then I came here, and I just kind of stumbled over the answer. I'm afraid he is your uncle."

Now Stew was shaking his head, now not sure how to answer, "He…I…but…" he mumbled, now at a loss for words. Twilight sighed and said, "I'm sorry you had to find out like this. It took me by surprise as well. I mean, I'm just as curious, and more so to know why he not only left the sport, but wanted to disappear."

There was more silence as Stew pondered the issue. He remembered some of the initial reports the papers had said about him in his upcoming rookie season, and he did not like how they were trying to raise him up as a wonder pony before he had ever taken the track as a professional. He had told this to his father, and his father told him what was going on, and the danger there was. He didn't mention how his uncle played into it, because his father understood, and was going to try to talk some sense into his brother if he could, but he had split before that time. Thus, to help his own son avoid the fate of his uncle, he warned him. Stew then, after some though, nodded his head, now sounding a bit more sympathetic and said, "I have a question, your highness. Tell me: what did the papers say about you when you were first crowned, and your days as a princess?"

"Oh, it was ridiculous," she said, "And a bit intrusive. They wanted to know everything…and I do mean everything…about every aspect of my life. I told them some basic things, nothing too deep, and they blew it up to where my good friend Rainbow Dash got right up into their face and told them essentially where they could stick their notebooks when they came to ask more questions. She was right angry! She told them to mind their own business and to get lost if they knew what was good for them."

"What happened after that?" asked Stew, looking at her with a look on his face that seemed to say he knew how she was going to answer.

"Oh, they got nasty," she said, "They started writing things about me in forms of questions about my private life, but asked in such a way that it seemed that this was the way things really were, and people started believing it."

"What happened after that?" he then said, nodding as if to say that he heard what he thought he was going to hear.

"Ooh, they got into some big kind of trouble!" answered Twilight, "The backlash hit Canterlot when Princess Celestia and Princess Luna got the papers and saw what was written. They both came to my palace and wanted to assure me that they knew what they printed they did not believe was true. I agreed that it was not true, and the pair called for a press conference at Canterlot, right in her throne room, especially calling for the presence of those reporters who had been responsible for the whole thing. I was there, and she wanted me to see this to I could learn how to properly execute an action like she was about to take. Once she got them in there, she ripped into them harshly. I have rarely seen her be this cross, and believe me, it takes A LOT to get her like this! She basically told them she respected the freedom of the press and speech that she always wanted all ponies to enjoy, but then there was the issue of taking license with that freedom. She told them they stood on the edge of malicious intent and wrongful defamation with their stories and she would take them to task if they could not back up every little thing they wrote and prove what they wrote was absent of malice. Wow, did they squirm! Luna chimed in and told them that their privilege as reporters was important, but it was no excuse for abusing that privilege. Celestia then gave a decree that no one was to come within fifty hoofs of me or my friends without consequences, and they were not to come to the castle or approach unless I gave them permission. Luna then added, 'and if it is found that ANY of you violated this…' and she narrowed her eyes and said sternly, 'you…will…answer…to…me!' The fear they showed at that point was incredible, and they quickly hit their knees and left out, and they've never been a problem since."

"I only wish everyone had such royal privilege," answered Stew, who then suddenly remembered who he was talking to and said, "Uh, no offense…"

Twilight laughed and said, "It's okay. I understand. But I am curious as to what you might mean by that."

He sighed and said, "What my dad told me was this: there are some who work in the press who are only in it for the fame and the money. The biggest way they can do that is by manipulating ponies' lives, especially when they are in the spotlight and admired. One place this happens is in the world of sport."

"Not sure I follow," she interrupted, "Why would that matter?"

"Normally, those who use the power of the pen like this don't like ponies who are famous who seemingly didn't work for it," answered Stew, "In reality, they know it took lotsa work, but because they themselves are not willing to do that kind of work themselves. Other ponies really have no clue, and are just jealous of somepony's success. These reporters know this, and use it to their advantage. Thus, what they do is build them up to be almost godlike, even if what kinds of things these ponies achieve was incredible. They are lifted up as idols for one purpose: to cut them down."

Now Twilight got a look on her face as if somepony had just put something smelly in her face, saying, "That's mean! Why?"

"They spend time making them seem like such good role models," he answered, "as if they are not ever able to, or even allowed to, make mistakes. Once they do, oh, do they turn vicious! If not, they try to cause ponies to doubt the integrity of their heroes. They do this do they can cut them down and say, 'See? They're just like any other pony. They're no better than you or me. What happens next is either they disappear, or they 'struggle back,' coming back into fame once again, and they again sell papers because they want to see the return of their heroes again, but they still will always have that taint. Sure, some may see that as bringing them more back down to earth and more approachable, but that does not excuse how they attacked these ponies. Whatever the case, nopony likes to think that anypony can be that good a pony."

"I still don't see why you destroy somepony for that!" she said, now starting to see what it was Princess Celestia was keeping from happening to her.

"So that they, and the ponies that read these things, can feel better about themselves, and excuse their own sorry lives if they have not done anything with them." he answered quite frankly.

Now Twilight was cross. "That's not right!" she said with a snort and a stomp, "Didn't they know what he meant to earth ponies? It was a bad time for them, and they made them realize they had worth no matter what anypony said! He helped them believe in themselves and to reach for their dreams!"

"They would have done that to you had not their majesties not stepped in," answered Stew, as if to confirm what she had been thinking, "If there is a world after this, there is much those jerks have to answer for when they get there!"

He then stopped, froze in thought, and said, "I have to see him! I have to talk to him! Please, take me back with you!"

She was going to suggest this, hoping he would be able to talk some sense into Clark, and she was now happy he wanted to do this. "It would be my pleasure!"

He nodded and galloped off to see Mrs. Sweedly and get permission to go. Twilight was now happy, because now she had a chance to help someone get over their past and live happy again.