Stories by the Fire

by Idio Adustum

Rating: everyone
Tags: Romance, Random, Slice of Life, Human
Length: 2832

A pyrocorn and student of Luna goes to ponyville to learn about friendship and learns more than just how to make friends.

[bIdio'Jaa is a new pony to friendship and wants to do it right. At Luna's direction he is sent to ponyville to learn under Twilight sparkle, but learns that making friends is not a cake walk. He has to overcome his past to find his future and makes some worth while friends as well, but he has a huge problem to tackle besides culture shock, his magic. Unlike most unicorns, Idio'Jaa (Known to his new friends as Kindle) is a Pyrocorn, a unicorn that can only use fire from his horn.

In a story of self realization,forgiveness, and worth, Kindle learns what friendship means and finds that even outcasts can fit if they just try.

(Note) Human tag is for one chapter where he visits Cantorlot High

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-04 05:40:29 UTC

My Story Begins

"I was sitting on the train, staring out the window.   I was bored, nervous, and a bit paranoid.  I'm not known for leaving a trail of great first impressions and I was on my first mission to actually get six good impressions from possibly the six most important ponies of the century.  Nervous?  Nah, that is what you get before you go on stage.  I was jumping out of my skin trying not to scream.   But this was a mission from my mentor and close friend, a mission I could not deny.  I had been reading up on social lives, how to make friends, studying Twilight's letters even when I got the chance, but nothing could prepare me for what was ahead.

Yeah, being a student of a princess has it's perks, and practically being adopted by one is nothing to sneeze at, but my existence is . . . almost non existent.  I am a student to everyone who visits the castle, a servant to anyone who know's the princesses, and a younger brother to the princesses and only them, but that is mostly accident. I'm a shadow in the castle, a ghost on the wall and the whispers in the corner, entirely by choice.  I stared at the window hard, watching my vision focus on my reflection, specifically my horn.  Curse that stupid thing and my inherent nature.  Yes, I'm not a normal unicorn, I'm a pyrocorn.  A unicorn deviant who uses fire infused magic, I can't even lift a book without igniting it.  Yes, yes, Celestia and Luna both tried to help me control it, and control it (mostly) I can, but every aspect of my magic burns so . . . . no book holding.  For most basic needs, I'm as useless as an earth pony, and I don't mean to offend, but when an earth pony looks at you, see's your horn and asks you to grab something they can't reach . . . . Yeah, it's irritating.

"Next stop, Ponyville!"  A voice shouts over the train, announcing my final destination and my new temporary home.  I was to live in Ponyville and learn about the friendship of magic, like Twilight was, only instead of sending letters telling of my lessons, I was to write a story worthy of a princess.  Yes, I'm a writer to anyone reading this, (in case I get eaten or killed or shoved off a cliff because I burnt some family heirloom) and it was princess Luna who suggested that I leave for Ponyville.  She said Twilight helped her fit in, maybe the new princess of friendship could help me.  Maybe.  Honestly I believed to be too far gone, but wasn't Nightmare Moon too?

I recalled the night I first met Luna, her dark blue eyes staring at me hesitantly while her Ponyville next stop"

I looked up from my paper.  The hard part of writing as a pyrocorn is the need for absolute silence.  Some conductors random scream ruined my page, and for a pyrocorn, it's no easy fix.  I use my magic to burn the words on the page, not enough to ruin the page but to leave a dark brown or black word where I need it.  Yes, I brand my work but still.  It's not easy.

I got up, grabbing my saddle bag and throwing it over my back.  The train station was full of ponies, either meeting new people or meeting old friends.  Smoke filled the air and made me sneeze, ruining my mental notes for a moment before I refocused my attention.  The platform was dimly lit, no lights save sunlight until nightfall, small town so small station, no bigger than twenty feet long and maybe a hundred feet or yards long.  I was bad at measuring but I remembered what it looked like.  I walked on, studying the town, brown buildings, gravel and dirt roads with a hint of paved paths that ventured into the occasional park.  Scattered trees, designed to bring life to an urban town?  Why didn't matter, just notice.  Right, so . . . brown buildings, hints of a purple hue occasionally.  Ponies of every shape and size walking around, predominately female though the occasional male is seen.  Birds singing, or is it chirping? Guess either will work.  Busy walking is surprisingly vacant, unlike Canterlot where everyone is in a hurry or is prancing around trying to look important.

I rounded a corner and found an odd spectacle, a tree, a door, and what looked like a ruined house with the smell of ash.  I walked closer inspecting the tree, the door actually led INTO the tree, making it a tree house.  The word play was not lost on me and I had to hold back my snicker.  The ash was old, at least a few weeks old, and only magical ash lasted that long.  This tree was not burned, but destroyed.  I opened it up to find it mostly cleaned out, anything left to acquire was either taken or stolen.  Half burned books, charred walls, a few decorations here and there, all burnt and left behind.  Images of my home came to mind and I knew the pain that took this place.  I only hoped that nothing was lost that could not be recovered.

I put down my saddle bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and rewriting my previous thoughts, coping the old piece I had, trying to keep the same train of mind.  After about half an hour, and a full page of writing a singular sound filled the small clearing.  "Whatcha doin?"

For pyrocorns, panic is your worst enemy.  And in my panic, I burnt my newly copied page to a nice, black crisp.  I turned to see a small, yellow filly with a red mane staring at me from a broken part of the wall.  "I was trying to write.  What do you want?"

She shrugged.  "I just watched you walkin through the town and figure'd your new.  Might as well see where ya go so I can tell ma big sis 'bout ya."

The wall was maybe two or three feet up and she was just hanging over it, slumped out on it.  She actually looked comfortable. "How long were you watching me?"

She seemed to get nervous at my question, "Uh, not too long?  Long enough to get bored I guess.  So what'cha writin?"

I looked down at my small pile of ash.  ". . . . Nothing."

"Why would you write 'bout nothin?  Ain't cha supposed to tell a boring story when ya write?"

I glared at her.  "What would a little filly know about writing?"

She gasped and stomped her hoof, jumping into the open house and stomping her way right into my muzzle,"Uh! How dare you!  You think just cuz I'm a might country you can just throw me off 'n say I can't write!  YOU don't even know ME!"  She had rich golden eyes that were burning with fury, practically staring into my soul.  "For all you know, I might be the most AMAZING writer that this here town 'as ever seen!"

I couldn't brake away from her gaze, but something she said caught me off guard.  "Might?"

She hesitated just long enough for me to notice before she continued her stare down, though now it wasn't as intense.  "Ye- Yes!  You don't know!"

I looked down her body just enough to see the blank flank on the little filly.  A young soul without a cutie mark, such a powerful and innocent thing, and she had no idea of what a burden a cutie mark could be.  But I couldn't ignore the little filly staring me down, determined to make me eat my words.  "Do you want to be a writer?"

"I don' see why not!"  She was trying to keep her energy and failing, falling into a hole of despair.  A pain started seeping into her eyes, one I knew too well and one I was not going to cause to this filly.

"You don't want to be a writer."  I turned and walked back to my bag, pulling out my quill and my parchment, making sure everything was neat and tidy before pulling out my personal journal.  "Being a writer sucks, it's boring, and you're constantly writing all the time.  Like, ALL the time."  I threw in as much sarcasm on the 'all the time' as I could, hoping to cheer her up.

She rolled her eyes.  "Ah, shoot.  It can't be awl that bad. . . . Can it?"

"Yeah it can be.  You don't have friends, you don't have free time, and all the adventures you have are imaginary.  It's pretty bad."

She instantly caught on to what i said, but caught it in the wrong way.  "WHAT?!  You don't have any friends?!"

"Wha-? N-no that's not the point I was-"

She interrupted me slamming both her hooves into my chest, "HOW can you NOT have FRIENDS?!"  I tried to answer her but her passionate screaming was overwhelming my attempts to calm her.  "You've gotta head over to ma sis' farm!  She'll help ya find a friend!"

"Now listen here-"

"There's no time ta waste!  We need to git ya a friend!"

"Did some pony say friend?!"  A high shrill voice made me jump, sending out a small pop of sparks as I landed on my back.  "Oooohhhhh!  I've never seen YOU before!"  A bright pink pony was hovering over me, looking me over.  "High!  I'm Pinky Pie!  What's your name?"

"Uh, I'm Idio'Jaa?"  I felt awkward, a filly and a mare were both staring at me as I was laying in the floor of some random house, or what was left of it.

I awkwardly got to my feet as the two started talking eccentrically , "Pinky!  He doesn't have any pony friends!"

"Well, he has me, and now he has you silly!  That's already two friends!"

"But Pinky!  He doesn't got NO friends!  He needs more then just you and me!"

"You're right!  We need to introduce him to every pony in town!"  My body went stiff as Pinky jumped at the idea.  I was not about to get shown around the town in an attempt to make friends.

"That's a great idea! We can start at one end of the town and work our way to the farm!  I'm sure Big Mac would love a new friend to help 'im out!"  the filly was jumping with her.

I tried to interject, "listen I'd really like to just stay here and-"

Pinky was bouncing, "Oh! Oh! Oh!  We can start now!"

She ran at me in a moment, and just as quickly as she came at me, I was suddenly anxious, my breathing got heavy and I planted my hooves on the wooden floor.  "I'm not going anywhere!"

Pinky just giggled, "Oh come on silly!  You can't be a party pooper on your first day in Ponyville!"

The filly added, "Yeah!  It'll be a blast!"

Pinky had her head against my rump, slowly sliding me out towards the door.  I couldn't do this, I wouldn't, panic kicked in and my magic took over.  I clenched my eyes and felt the magic coursing through my horn, the familiar burn as it lit up.  With an enveloping flame, I teleported to the other side of the room, leaving a small burn on the floor.

Both Pinky and the Filly were staring at me, my horn still burning as I waited for them to make a move on me.  It was the filly that spoke first, "WOAH! How are you doing that?!"  She ran up to me, excitedly looking at my horn.  "Ooohhhhh!"

I instantly put it out, "Uh, doing- doing what?"

Pinky literally hopped up to me, "Wow!  You're as talented as Twilight!  I bet you can do all sorts of spells!"

Only one thing stood out to me in that.  Twilight.  "Twilight?  You mean Twilight Sparkle?"

"Yup! Only the greatest friend-princess ever!"  Pinky almost fell  backward she was so excited.

I was freaking out, this was not how I planned this day to go.  "Uh, listen, I uh. . . . You think maybe you can let me see her tomorrow?"

Pinky leaned in close, her eye's almost touching mine, "Why not today!  I was just on my way over to say 'hi' anyways!  I bet she'd love to make a new friend!"

The filly spoke up, "Yeah!  Twilight is always making new friends!"

I was trying my best not to scream at how relentless these two were, "Well uh, see I just got here and I want to take some time to uh, . . . you know. . . . get settled in?  Can we please do it tomorrow?"  Pinky was about to jump up and say something but I emphasized with a louder "Please?!"

So she promptly said "Okie dokie lokie!  I'll be by tomorrow to take you over!  Until then, don't have any fun without me!"  She leaned in real close, wrapping a hoof around my shoulder and poking my chest threateningly, "I'll know if you do."  She gave me a dead stare as she seemed to float away before hopping away.  Literally.  It was unnerving how energetic she was.

Finally, quiet.  I grabbed some parchment and got ready to write when I felt someone watching me.  I looked up to meet the gaze of the little filly.  "You know, I never did get your name."   She said curiously.

"Uh, you probably couldn't say my name."  I said calmly as I tried to gather my thoughts.

She got a goofy, yet confidant grin.  "Try me."  At this point I realized how cute her country accent was.

Well, might as well let her try.  "Idio'Jaa Adustum."

"Eye-doe jar, add us tim?"

I face palmed.  "No no, the beginning was good, but you butchered the end.  It's Idio'Jaa Adustum.  Like, I'd - Ee - o - Ja.   Aud - oost - oom."

She tried again, "Eye- deo- ja Ood - oos tum."

I stared at here perplexed.  I was not going to go through this with everyone I met, maybe . . . yeah, what she used to call me.  "Just call me Kindle."

She perked up, "Now that I kin say!  Kindle.  So much easier!"

I couldn't help but chuckle, my name was a bit difficult to say.  "So what is your name little filly?  I need something to put in my book."

She stood up tall, proud of who she was, "My name is Applebloom!"

"Applebloom, nice name. I bet you wear it proudly.  I'll make sure I describe you accurately in my book."

Applebloom trotted over, (it was such a relief knowing her name) "So will I be like, super popular when you get done with your book?"

I shook my head.  "No, this book is only for princess Luna.  She wanted me to come here and write her a story that she could be proud of."

Applebloom suddenly seemed a bit nervous, "And uh, I'm gonna be in it?"  I nodded.  "Well, uh, make sure you don't put anything bad in it.  I don't want princess Luna goin' and tellin' ma big sis that I was up to somethin'."

I shook my head, "Oh no, I'd never do that.  Unless you actually did do something bad, then I would put it in the book, because I want this to be as accurate as possible."

Applebloom shoved my shoulder, "Hey!  You can't be goin' and tattlenin' on me!"

I rolled my eyes, "I prefer the word 'report' not 'tattle'.  You make me sound like an amateur."

Applebloom rolled her eyes.  "Ay, a tattler is a tattler no matter how you paint his flank."

. . . . . . . . . I honestly had nothing to say to that.  That was the most absurd thing I have ever heard, but I was not about to tell this filly that.  "Is that something your big sister says a lot?"

"Eyyup!"

I nodded.  "I can tell."

She was practically sitting on top of me as she asked me, "So what is your cutie mark?  I've never seen anything like it."

I turned to my flank, the burning book with the sword in it didn't make sense at first glance, and I honestly didn't want to go into detail about it.  "I'll make you a deal.  You come by tomorrow, and I'll tell you all about my cutie mark."

She leaned in close, making sure I wan't going to cheat her out, "You sayin that if I can show up tomorrow, you'll tell me about your cutie mark?"  I nodded.  "Then you have your self a deal!"  She spat on her hoof and held it out.

I couldn't help but stare at her.  "Uh, what are you doing?"

"Well go on, pound it!"  I went to pound it but she glared at me.

"What?"  She held her glare.  "Do I really have to spit on my own hoof?"  She nodded.  . . . .   ". . . . . Fine."  I spat on my hoof and gently slammed my hoof into hers.

"Yes!  I'll see you in the morning Mr. Kindle!"  She ran off, excited for some reason.

I watched her go, recalling the events that transpired.   I found myself lingering on Pinky, wrapping her arm around me, if even for a moment.  I recalled the way her arm felt, her fur coat touching mine.  I don't remember any pony really touching me like that.  I can't remember ever feeling like this after some pony touched me either.  This weird racing my heart was making, almost like . . . .

I pushed her out of my mind and sat down in the small clearing, content to write out my day and sleep the night away.  Luna knew I had a big day tomorrow, and I wanted as much time to brace myself as I could.