The Incredible Storyloom

by Gothic Dreams

Rating: everyone
Tags: Cheerilee, Alternate Universe, Sad, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Romance
Length: 25952

Cheerilee and the little foals of Ponyville visit the Royal Museum of Oxerford. Inside is a strange machine called the Storyloom, where Cheerilee tells a story about the very Pony who inspired its creation...

Cheerilee and the young foals of Ponyville are on a school trip to the Royal Museum in Oxerford. There rests a curious looking invention, unlike anything else ever made. Cheerilee enlightens her pupils, sharing with them a story that recalls Equestria's golden age of the steam engine, when machines seemed to become abundant and find new ways to defy imagination.

This is the story about the machine called the Storyloom…

Published 2015-07-20 18:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-28 05:21:26 UTC

Chapter 1: The Industrial Age of Equestria

It was the age of industrialisation. New resources were found and with that, new materials and methods of production were also discovered. Coal was favoured for its efficiency as fuel and the production of iron becoming more prevalent. Machines too were increasingly taken up as tools, especially for the factory line; several Ponies now worked away with the aid of the mechanical hands of the factories. Together, in the great brick-stone buildings, they became the churning organs of mass labour.

Metals weren’t the only things to have made it to mass production either. Woven fabrics could now be brought out – literally – by the truckload as mills grew in their numbers alongside the factories. This was certainly helped by the increased gathering of materials like cotton, thanks to the development of new machines, built from the very metal parts that had been smelted in the newly increasing factories. In the mills, other mechanical devices spun and wove were able to carry out greater workloads in a single day than several Ponies ever could by slaving away for a whole week, or perhaps even a month.

There was one major development from this golden age of machinery that spanned to even some of the smallest settlements across the nation; the steam engine and the railway. This revolutionised travel for just about all of Equestria; Ponies could go on journeys from small town to big cities, and vice versa, miles apart, in a much shorter amount of time than they would have ever previously dreamed! The railroads also allowed a means to transport resources, materials and machines, becoming the heart and lifeblood of this industrial revolution.

The growing abundance in such machinery, however, still mainly took place within parts of Equestria. Industrialisation especially grew in major cities closer to the north and northeastern parts of the nation from Manehatten to Neighcastle. These cities stood like dull iron colossi, surrounded by the country green. Birminghoof was one such giant.

Though part of the city where most of the factories and mills had been built, a wide river flowed though Birminghoof. In addition to the railways, this river allowed Birminghoof to thrive in its industrialisation. This river, lined with the city docks, had helped the city with its exports in the past. With the railway however, the factory and mill owners of Birminghoof could sell their merchandise to towns and cities beyond the river’s course, with a good deal of speed and efficiency.

Due to the notable number of factory buildings around the city docks, most of the clouds in the skies around the area made way for the dense, grey billowing trails of smoke that emerged from the chimneys. The dreary change in tone and colour of the sky around this part of Birminghoof, as well as the increased number of Ponies prone to coughing fits, had earned the region the rather bleak title, “Blight Streets”.

The name of the Blight Streets were often brought up by small, though rarely ignored, groups of anti-industrialist Ponies. These groups may have consisted of Ponies who were country-folk, farmers insecure about their own place in an industry that making more and more space for self-acting machinery. Some members were small business craftsponies who had been, one way or another, made redundant by the mechanisation of their trade. Other Ponies of the movement simply felt that such machines put integrity at risk, not necessarily opposing the introduction of new machinery altogether. Rather, they dreaded the possibility that these machines encouraged the employment of lesser-skilled workers and the production of inferior stock for the sake of reduced labour costs. Their position against the mechanised industry was often expressed through organising public protests. Some Ponies, however, carried out their protests in the form of sabotage. With the aid of disenfranchised workers, the more aggressive activists would break into the mills and damage the machines – the looms, the stocking frames and spinning frames – to make them inoperable, or even outright destroy them. Although relatively rare, the machine breaking gained enough attention to raise concern for public unrest among the city populations, especially in Birminghoof where it occurred most frequently.

Equestria’s ruler, Princess Celestia herself, eventually passed a law that determined such sabotage to be acts of criminal damage, punishable by banishment – any Pony found guilty of machine breaking was to never be allowed to enter the city in which they committed their crime ever again. This proved effective in virtually bringing down the number of machine breaking entirely; the members of the anti-industrialists who engaged in and encouraged such acts mostly ended up choosing to move out of the cities, settling far into the countryside. They all left with the bitter taste of resentment in their mouths.

Despite the stigma that was sometimes brought on by the title of the Blight Streets, some of the Ponies who owned the mills and factories of Birminghoof actually grew comfortable with it. It left an impression that the billowing smoke of their establishments helped them claim ownership over an area that was, fundamentally, a crucial investment of theirs.

One such Pony so boldly took to this to the extent of naming his own mill Blight Mill. His name was named Carbon Skies.

He was a Pegasus with a dark, navy-blue fur coat. His physique gave him a strong appearance, but one that was more lean than muscular. He also possessed a stature matching the boldness of his ambitions. In his youth, Carbon Skies’ mane was a pristine white that shimmered in the sunlight to reveal, again, a shade of blue, one that seemed to match the brightness of the clear morning sky. By the time Carbon Skies claimed ownership to one of the most prolific mills of the entire city, his mane had developed multiple shades of grey. His ambitions never declined with age. Rather, they became refined as he grew more and more from his experiences in the business to the point that he could be confident that Blight Mill exceeded the quota of every other mill in all of Birminghoof. Carbon Skies’ confidence in his abilities in the trade may have been founded on the mark on his flank, a gold coin with wings enveloped around it, which he proudly displayed as an insignia to his business.

Carbon Skies not only made it well in the production of fabrics but also in the sales of the various products that can be made from such materials. Aside from exporting his fabrics to other towns and cities of Equestria, in Birminghoof, he owned a good number of stores that specialised in the assorted clothing – like shirts, suits and dresses – as made by highly skilled tailors, who worked with the very materials produced in Blight Mill.

‘Miss Cheerilee!’ One of the foals called out. It was Applebloom. ‘I thought you were going to talk to us about Rosy Bliss. Who is Carbon Skies?’

Cheerilee smiled at the foal and answered, ‘Well Applebloom, Carbon Skies was Rosy Bliss’ father.’

‘Did he make the Storyloom?’ another foal asked.

‘No, he didn’t. Even so, one could argue that he played an important part in the Storyloom’s existence. Before we talk more about that however, it’s important to understand the family that Rosy Bliss came from.’

‘So what about Rosy Bliss’ mother?’ Applebloom spoke up again, ‘Who was she?’

Chapter 2: Sharing Stories and Sharing Hearts

Quillflower was an Earth Pony who had been a long known friend and sweetheart of Carbon Skies. From a young age, Quillflower was regarded as a beautiful mare, with a mane that shone in a golden yellow like the sun on daybreak. Her body was ever so pale, almost white, which made her deep green eyes stand out with a seemingly everlasting twinkle that made them appear more like emeralds. She was also well-read, a trait she picked up from her mother. Also like her mother, Quillflower was for the most part self-taught, picking up on various subjects, especially history and Equestria’s cultures, through the hefty collection of books that she had acquired through her family since she was a filly.

Carbon Skies and Quillflower first met each other through connections between their families. Quillflower’s father, Copper Spring, was a professor at Birminghoof University who specialised in theoretical engineering. He became an acquaintance, then shortly afterward, a friend of Black Marble, who was Carbon Skies’ father. Black Marble was already making his way into the business of the factories and mills in Birminghoof, with some assistance from Copper Spring to help him in find the best machines and designs in which Black Marble hoped to make his investments. It was through his father’s assets that Carbon Skies managed to work early on as a mill owner, before expanding by buying out what would eventually become the Blight Mill.

The first time Carbon Skies ever saw Quillflower was at a dinner party, to which Copper Springs invited Black Marble and his family. Both their parents had made some arrangements to get their children to meet each other, though it was at first unclear as to whether or not the two foals truly got along well. Quillflower was quiet, mostly because she truly was shy. Even when she grew into a mare, she wasn’t entirely comfortable with taking part in social events. During her first meeting with Carbon Skies however, the main reason she didn’t speak much, if at all, was because she felt as though she didn’t know enough words to participate in any in-depth conversation. Regardless, Carbon Skies warmed up to her fast that by the end of the evening. He already hoped to see her again.

It wasn’t until the third time Carbon Skies visited the Copper Spring household that he spoke to Quillflower, and she finally spoke back.

‘Good afternoon, ma’am,’ Carbon Skies presented himself. Quillflower was in her father’s study, sat by the window. It was one of those windows where the ledge had a cushion on top of it, allowing a Pony to sit on it like a bench. Quillflower acknowledged Carbon Skies’ entry, she glanced towards him but made no sound and never turned her head completely away from the book she was reading at the time. This made Carbon Skies, still standing at the doorway, rather nervous, unsure as to whether he was really welcome at all.

Carbon Skies was increasingly nervous the more he tried to speak to her, ‘My name is Carbon Skies… Our fathers are friends. We met before. Remember me? Our families had dinner together the other week here.’

Slowly, Quillflower gave a nod. She still didn’t put away her book. Carbon Skies had visited the day after the dinner. Already he spoke to her more than he ever did beforehand.

Carbon Skies still stood at the doorway to the study and remained there quietly for perhaps another half minute. Timidly, he looked to the floor as if he had only just noticed the shuffling of one of his front hooves. Then, as if a sudden electrical surge ran up his neck, he jolted upright and called out to Quillflower, ‘Is it okay for me to come in?’ He sounded like someone asking for shelter from harsh winter weather, as his voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Such a break in composure was hard for anyone to not pay attention to. Quillflower couldn’t help but turn towards him this time. She made a few quick nods, holding the book up in front of her muzzle to conceal that she was smiling.

Ever since their conversation in the library, Carbon Skies and Quillflower seemed to get along famously. The two would meet each other as regularly as possible, whether it was during social events held at either their families’ homes or on the numerous outings they had together, usually at the countryside. It was not unusual for Quillflower to bring a couple books with her as well as some paper and ink when the two went out together. Even if it appeared a little unorthodox to him, Carbon Skies didn’t seem to mind too much. If anything, it made him more interested in her. He understood that Quillflower wasn’t too comfortable with social gatherings and had a tendency to remain quiet on such occasions. However, even though she had her books during their little get-togethers, Quillflower wasn’t beyond engaging in conversation. In fact, she was perfectly at ease to do so at great length when she was just with Carbon Skies.

Even then, when Quillflower finally revealed to Carbon Skies her ambition to become a writer and tell stories like those she had become inspired by, his sudden increased curiosity, support and adoration for her did feel a little overbearing, if only for a moment. Still, she was less afraid to talk of her passion to Carbon Skies than she was to any other Pony.

They were out in the countryside together when they spoke about it.

‘So, why is it important to you?’ he asked.

‘Pardon?’

‘What is it about becoming a writer that makes it so important to you?’ Carbon Skies had shifted so he could sit with his fore-hooves held together while his chin rested on top of them. He couldn’t stop smiling.

Quillflower felt perplexed. She had other Ponies ask why she would want to be a writer before. However, when they did so, it was often said in a way that suggested they believed it was an ambition not worth pursuing. This Pony beside her was different. The way he asked ‘why’ was different. She could see that Carbon Skies was actually interested. He actually cared.

Quillflower sat still, having suddenly found herself at a loss. She looked to beyond the hills as if she could somehow find her answer out there. Carbon Skies remained quiet and wouldn’t say a word until Quillflower gave her answer. Although they may have both been silent for just a minute, it felt like it might have gone on for much longer. When Quillflower did speak, she continued to look out into the greenery.

‘I suppose… you could say that it’s because reading often lends itself to flights of fancy… Sometimes, the world around you can seem not at all that interesting. And sometimes, it even makes you feel like you’re alone in the way you think and feel. When you read, however, it’s as if someone has taken you by the hoof to show you that, somewhere, there are places in the world really can be more wonderful than you could imagine, and that you are not alone… In some way, I would quite like to be a part of that…’

After Quillflower gave her reply, Carbon Skies remained quiet a little moment longer. He could feel his whole body glower with adoration. ‘Would it be possible for me to see some of these flights of fancy of yours?’ he then asked.

Quillflower turned her head to him, her eyes sparked with curiosity by the odd, almost teasing, nature of Carbon Skies’ wording. ‘Come again?’ she chuckled.

‘What I mean is; do you have any stories of your own?’

‘I have, yes. Though I don’t have any of them with me right now, if you were curious.’

‘In that case, the next time we meet… May I have a chance to see them?’

Carbon Skies became quite insistent on seeing some of what Quillflower had written, she realised that there wasn’t any chance she could refuse him. The next time Carbon Skies saw Quillflower was back at her home, in the study room where they first spoke to each other. It was there, in her personal cabinet filled with several piles of paper and inkwells and quills, that her efforts at creative writing were stored. Quillflower took several piles of papers, some of them were lathered with notes and scribbles while others were manuscripts of fully realised ideas. With enthused eyes, Carbon Skies proceeded to read through them at the desk. He was certainly impressed with what he had seen.

‘Wonderful! Just wonderful!’ Carbon Skies’ pale brown eyes seemed to shimmer like pebbles seen through the crystal clear, sunlit surface of a valley river.

Quillflower blushed, ‘You really think so? Thank you.’ She had seated herself at the same place she was when Carbon Skies first attempted to talk to her, right by the window closet to the desk.

Carbon Skies could see that Quillflower was a little bashful about all the praise but he didn’t think that should matter. If anything, he felt it brought out a particular charm to her. ‘You have a hoof for this kind of work, I can tell you that.’ He then couldn’t help but notice another pile of papers on the desk that he hadn’t looked through yet. ‘Would it be okay for me to have a look at these as well?’ he asked.

‘You want to read that?’ Quillflower seemed a little surprised. It then dawned upon Carbon Skies that the entire pile was just one story.

‘Incredible!’ He thought to himself. The manuscript’s thickness rivalled that of many books that attempted to tell the history of entire cultures throughout Equestria. Still, Carbon Skies just turned his head to Quillflower and smiled, ‘Why, yes! I would be delighted to! That is, only if it isn’t too much trouble…’

‘Not at all.’ Quillflower shook her head lightly. ‘Although, it isn’t finished…’

For a very brief moment, Carbon Skies had a surprised look in his eyes but then he just smiled again and eagerly began reading.

There was still a lot more of the manuscript to go through by the time it had turned to evening. He decided that he wouldn’t be able to read it all in one go, so he called it for the night. Nevertheless, he was amazed with what he had seen thus far. As he put the last page down, he felt exhausted, as if he had undertaken an incredible excursion.

‘It certainly is an ambitious tale!’ Carbon Skies chuckled.

‘…Did you like it?’ Quillflower sounded timid.

‘Absolutely!’ Carbon Skies beamed. ‘In my opinion, it may very well be the best of the lot. Have you ever looked into getting this published yet?’

‘I don’t think I could ever bring myself to.’ Quillflower had a nervous look in her eyes as she fixed a gaze at the large manuscript.

‘What about the others?’ Carbon Skies held up one of the smaller stories he had read through that day. ‘If not, I’m sure I could make some arrangements…’

‘You would do that for me?’ Quillflower’s nervous disposition gave way as her eyes sparkled like diamonds.

‘Of course! I would be more than willing to support you,’ Carbon Skies and Quillflower stood up real close to each other, their forehooves against each others’ like a couple bridging their hands together. ‘I believe you truly have a talent, one that you deserve to carry on pursuing and that others should know about it… my flower…’

Although they may have stood there for only a few minutes, to the both of them, it felt like hours. Their hearts fluttered together all the while.

Chapter 3: The Start of a Family

From that moment on, Carbon Skies and Quillflower were a couple that expressed total adoration for each other. It was enough to warm the heart of anyone who witnessed the affection they shared. They became engaged about a year after Carbon Skies proclaimed his love for Quillflower and in due time, their wedding finally took place. By the time they did marry however, Carbon Skies had recently passed the prime of his youth. He was just in his thirties although he appeared somewhat older, most likely due to the stress of his work; all to invest in what would become the Blight Mill. During their engagement, Quillflower managed to finish one of her stories and Carbon Skies, just as he promised, helped her make arrangements with a publisher. Her story was about a young stallion who decided to go on a journey in his hot-air balloon, and travels so high into the sky he lands on the moon, discovering life and civilisations unlike any known in Equestria. The book was a moderate success, having sold well and garnered a great amount of appeal and became often talked about among readers. Quillflower seemed pleased with her work.

Although Copper Springs offered, as father of the bride-to-be, to pay for the wedding and help pay for their house, Carbon Skies insisted on waiting until he had more money of his own to support the family he and Quillflower hoped to become. In the end, Quillflower persuaded Carbon Skies to allow both their fathers pay for the wedding. Even then, while he was truly grateful for Copper Spring’s offer, Carbon Skies wished to at least pay as much as he could for the property that he and Quillflower had chosen.

When they finally married, with a new home in their possession, Carbon Skies promised to his wife, ‘My flower, I can assure you this house will be a fine enough, no, better… a perfect place for our family! The children can grow up with everything they need here. They shall grow up to become greater minds than this city probably ever deserves!’

Quillflower simply wished to take up writing her stories, all of which she would eager to share with the children she hoped for when she and Carbon Skies finally settled down in their new home.

Even as rich city housing goes, the Carbon Skies and Quillflower estate was a modest one. Its rooms weren’t necessarily numerous compared to others but they were certainly all impressive in size. There was enough room for the essentials – bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen and dining area – as well as the sort of comforts a wealthy homeowner would probably expect to have, including a decent sized servants quarters. They had a modest number of servants around the house. There were two house-servants, both Earth Ponies, a young stallion named Beckon Call and a mare who went by the name Clean Sweep. There was also a cook, Secret Recipe, who was a Unicorn and an Earth Pony named Spokes who worked as a chauffeur. Out of the three bedrooms, Carbon Skies and Quillflower both agreed to make the largest of them a guest room. They then claimed one of the other two, which were beside each other and of equal size. The other room was to be for their awaited addition to the family.

There was also a magnificent library to house all the books Quillflower had ever owned, with plenty of room still for any more she would hope to acquire in the near future. There was another room, which functioned as a lounge, where Carbon Skies used to entertain his male guests with rounds of billiards and fine liquors and the chance to carry out their evening banter. Finally, there was the study, a room much smaller than either the library or the lounge where either Carbon Skies could sort out his business plans and finances, or where Quillflower could write her stories.

Their home was located close to the central area of Birminghoof and yet, the sky never seemed dulled by the city smoke. The back of the house had a small garden that also faced a park, the entrance of it looked like the opening to a small area of woodland. The garden itself was predominantly filled with roses. They brought on a splendid flourish of colour to the greenery. There were roses in white, yellow and blue but most of all they came in wondrous shades of pink and red. At the side of the garden opposite to the park entrance, there was a small wooden structure. It was a bench bleached with white paint and its arched frame overhead covered in leafy crawling vines. The vines appeared to have wrapped the structure in such a way they appeared as if they were caressing it.

When they were expecting, Quillflower made sure to ready some shelves in her library, not only to bring together the books she remembered reading and having read to her as a foal but to prepare a space for her own stories. If she wasn’t in the study writing more for her stories, Quillflower was out in the rose garden reading. She began writing more and more as her pregnancy progressed to the point Carbon Skies would see her at the study desk, jotting away well into the night. He grew concerned for her health and insisted that she give herself more time to rest, at least until the baby was born. Surely, Quillflower conceded into not letting her enthusiasm get the best her, not only putting her husband at ease but also herself. Instead, she made do with her usual nightly activity every time she put herself to bed; Quillflower would always have a book at her bedside to read through for a good hour before she finally let herself fall asleep. It was certainly more comfortable and relieving for the mind than slaving one’s self away at a dimly lit desk every night.

However, not long before the date of their child’s birth, Quillflower came down with a fever. She felt increasingly uncomfortable, especially during the last few weeks of her pregnancy. In that time, Carbon Skies had employed one of the finest doctors in the city. As much as he dreaded the thought of it, Carbon Skies wanted to be prepared for the worst.

Eventually that time had come, when the longest twelve hours fell upon the house. Carbon Skies waited most anxiously outside the room. Knowledge of Quillflower’s most recent condition made it difficult for him to stand still for even a moment. He was afraid for her, desperate to rush in but he knew that there wasn’t anything he could really do to help and he never wished to disrupt the doctor or the two mares that he had brought over to aid in the delivery. The maid Clean Sweep had also come to aid. She rushed into the bedroom, along with bundles of towels and a basin filled with warm water. All the while, Carbon Skies stood aside all this never fully observing what was going on, only being aware that nothing he knew or was capable of would be of any use. He understood all this but it tore at him nevertheless. He never believed he would have slept for a moment that night.

Carbon Skies shook himself when he felt the sunlight of the next day broke through the horizon, peering into the front windows. As he woke, Carbon Skies caught himself in an awkward slumped posture where he had fallen asleep while sat on the chair he set up just beside the bedroom door. Grogginess stabbed at his brain. Even if he had slept at all, he knew it must not have been for long. A quick look at a large mirror in the living room revealed his bloodshot eyes, with intense lines underneath them. However, what was more disconcerting to him than his current appearance was the realisation that there wasn’t a sound to be heard from anywhere in the house.

A short moment later, the doctor stepped into the room and called to Carbon Skies. When Carbon Skies approached him, the doctor spoke in a solemn tone, ‘You can see them now.’

When Carbon Skies entered the bedroom, he could see that the maid had been dismissed though the two mares who worked through the night as midwives were still present. They would leave shortly after Carbon Skies entered the room. The bedroom was dark, with just a small glint of sunlight coming in from the edges of the windows. There was enough light coming in though to see Quillflower lying there, cradling a small bundle of sheets in her forehooves. Early into her pregnancy, Quillflower seemed fuller and had a heart-warming glow about her. Earlier still, she always had such a delicate appearance, her white body like a porcelain doll in its bell jar. During that moment when Carbon Skies saw her in their bed however, she looked more fragile than ever.

Despite the concern clearly seen on her husband’s face, Quillflower remained beaming. She held herself upright by leaning against the pillows behind her. Her body still awkwardly slumped down against the bed frame. She held up the newborn foal as closely as she could to Carbon Skies when he approached the bed. Even then, he had to lean closely to see its face, or pick them up in his own hooves.

‘It’s a girl…’ Quillflower murmured weakly. She seemed to struggle holding her own smile more than the baby.

Carbon Skies held and looked at the foal as if in great awe, ‘Oh!... She looks so beautiful! And healthy too, thank Celestia!’

The tiny filly had a fur coat that was pale, creamy beige. The mane clung to the top of her forehead, some strands hung over her face softly like wet petals of a vermillion orchid. Her eyes more often than not remained shut. Though, when they did squint open, a small glimmer of emerald green could be seen.

Both Carbon Skies and Quillflower were overwhelmed. Joy welled up in their chests so much it hurt, as tears ran from the corner of their eyes.

‘…Bliss!’ Quillflower called out while exhaling, her hooves brought together under her chin as if she was in prayer. Carbon Skies looked to her, neither of them showing any signs of their smiles fading. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘She truly is! That shall be her name.’ Quillflower slowly nodded in approval.

Finally, more of the sunlight came into the room as the sun rose higher into the sky. Now, the whole house seemed to be flourishing with the light. The house’s garden near the woods appeared to sprout up in the sun’s rays, like a pulse of the heart, as the roses swayed to the gentleness of the wind.

It was the happiest this family ever was.

Chapter 4: The Delicate Flower

From the very first day after Rosy Bliss was born, Quillflower insisted on having the foal in her hold and care. However, since giving birth, she struggled to walk normally. Weakness and illness seemed to come and go regularly. The doctor had been able to provide her with a peculiar-looking contraption, a harness and crutch that would aid Quillflower with wandering around the house. It rested under one of her front legs and allowed said leg to rest above it, meaning she could easily enough use that hoof to pick up anything. In some ways, it made things easier for her to carry around Rosy Bliss, as she would lay cradled between Quillflower’s forehoof and chest.

Quillflower still wrote and read her books as she had done in the past but there was a greater sense of joy to be seen in her. It was clear that her enjoyment came from now sharing these tales with her own little filly, who she had hoped may grow up to pursue her mother’s passion. Now and then, when Carbon Skies approached the library to peer into the doorway, he would see Quillflower sat down, reading whatever tale she had before her aloud with Rosy Bliss gently leaning back against her mother’s chest. Carbon Skies realised he wasn’t certain that he ever heard his wife read anything aloud until then. If she ever did though, he could imagine very well that she may have read to herself as she read to her own daughter. Her voice carried, even in her weakened state, a powerful sense of unchallenged child-like wonder and awe, as if everything about her in the world was still a new sight to behold. All the while, Rosy Bliss peered down at the pages, her eyes revealing that emerald glow, as if she were enchanted by the words before her.

One morning, Carbon Skies had to leave the house to oversee the work done at Blight Mill. It was mid-Spring and daylight came through the windows, though the sun looked more silver than pure, hot white due to overcast.

Before Carbon Skies ever to set off for business, he would always see his wife to give her a kiss and say goodbye. Usually, Quillflower would be fully dressed by that time. However, for the past few mornings, she had still been in bed. As he entered the bedroom, Carbon Skies put on a smile to hide his concern for Quillflower’s health. It had now been a year and any rate of recovery didn’t appear certain.

‘I’m heading off now. Do take care, my dear.’ Carbon Skies approached the bed, a hoof placed onto hers.

Quillflower replied wearily, ‘I’ll be fine. Besides, I need to care for Bliss.’

‘You don’t have to do it all yourself. After all, we have the servants here. They can help –‘

‘I said I’m fine,’ Quillflower attempted to bring assertion to her voice but it only made her sound croaky, ‘I know that you’re worried but you really mustn’t be. Bliss and I will be perfectly fine together.’

‘Flower, please. Don’t do anything that will wear you out. Take the time to rest. Even for just one day?’ They looked each other in the eye. After a brief silence, Quillflower gave a slow nod. Carbon Skies smiled ‘I should be back this evening. See you then.’ He kissed Quillflower and just as he stepped away from the bed, a little murmur sounded off from the cot ahead of the foot of the bed. Carbon Skies looked in to see that Rosy Bliss was wide awake, with a seemingly lost look on her face.

Carbon Skies reached down to pick her up and said in a joyous tone, ‘And I will see you too, my little rosebud!’ Rosy Bliss cracked a smiled as she was lifted above Carbon Skies’ head. He kissed his daughter on the nose and gently put her back down in the cot. Although he wished to stay home for today, Carbon Skies knew he had to go on about his business. He said goodbye once more and stepped out through the bedroom door. Just before he left the house, Carbon Skies approached Beckon Call to see to it that he makes sure Quillflower stays in bed for at least an hour or so and have Clean Sweep assist her in getting out of bed and dressed.

When Carbon Skies had finally stepped out from the front door of the house, he could see that Spokes had been by the coach waiting for him. He recomposed himself, put on a smile and apologised to his chauffeur.

‘So sorry to have made you wait.’

‘No apology necessary, sir.’ said Spokes. His expression seemed to remain neutral for the rest of the journey.

The moment he sat in the coach, Carbon Skies’ smile faded as he leant towards the window and looked back to his home and then up to the sky.

It’s strange,

Carbon Skies thought to himself…

It seems much cloudier over the city than usual...

As he went through the day, the concerns Carbon Skies had earlier that morning seemed to drift off. At the very least, some part of it did. Focusing on work seemed to help him with that. He oversaw the workers and the mill’s machines, checking with the engineers to make sure production was running smoothly. Finally, he attended some meetings regarding trading and went inspected the inventory and profits. For most of his career, Carbon Skies never really came across too much trouble.

One night was an exception when a band of anti-industrialists broke into the Blight Mill and damaged some of the looms. This was made worse when some individuals not at all related to the vandals managed to sneak in and steal some materials. However, Copper Spring was once again willing to help and, quite miraculously it seemed, made sure his friend’s son didn’t buckle financially when he was, at the time, so early into running the business for himself.

Today, Carbon Skies’ supervision went on with no major incidents to note. For the most part, it was another routine that he became very familiar with. Carbon Skies returned home that evening now feeling more joyful than worried to see Quillflower again. The sun was setting and he was feeling worn out by the time the coach brought him home. Slowly, Carbon Skies stepped towards the front door where Beckon Call greeted him.

‘Good evening, sir.’

‘Evening.’

‘I presume the supervision and meetings went well?’ Beckon Call asked as he assisted Carbon Skies in taking his coat off.

‘Yes. Yes, everything was perfectly fine. Do you know where my wife is?’

The house-servant hung up Carbon Skies’ coat beside the door, turning his head towards him when he answered, ‘No Sir. I haven’t seen her since this afternoon. Though, I believe Clean Sweep had been with Madam Quillflower until the past half hour. Shall I look for her and inform her of your return?’

‘Yes. Go see if she’s in the rose garden. She may still be out there,’ however minute, some nervousness returned and could be heard as he spoke. ‘I’ll go look for her in the library.’

The last few weeks Quillflower had spent more time reading books rather than writing them herself as she became more invested in telling stories to Bliss more than anything else. She often sat outside in the rose garden with the baby beside her on the bench that stood underneath the arched white wood structure. She usually started with only one book and then, once that was finished, would find Rosy Bliss – or perhaps more likely, herself – insisting on more to be read. So it was not uncommon for Quillflower to journey back and forth between the garden and library, even in her condition.

Carbon Skies made sure to remain at a casual pace across the house as he made his way to the library, he didn’t want to force himself into assuming the worse has happened. Still, he quickly began trotting down the corridor. Once he was to the library, he could see the door slightly ajar and through there, hear that Rosy Bliss was crying.

There was a moment between hearing the foal cry and realising what had probably happened that lasted for just a second. Although the sense of dread that filled Carbon Skies made it seem like it lasted several minutes. As if even his breath and heartbeat came to a complete stand still.

Suddenly, he dashed for the library at such speed and swung the door completely open. He came in looking to the floor, already knowing what he was going to see.

Quillflower lay on her back, in a way that seemed to suggest that she tried to reach for the doorway. Judging from the small, scattered pile of books that lay beside her, it was likely that Quillflower was about to leave the room with another selection to read through in the garden when she started to collapse. The crutch and harness couldn’t have done anything to prevent that. Even in losing consciousness, her maternal instincts drove her to roll over to one side so that she didn’t fall with Rosy Bliss underneath. As she lay there completely silent, Quillflower still had Rosy Bliss cradled in her forehooves, the little foal wailing.

Carbon Skies rushed towards her and made sure Bliss was unharmed, while he desperately tried to call to Quillflower, hoping that she would respond. A moment later, Beckon Call could be seen standing at the doorway. His mouth and brow did not move but there was severity in his eyes. Just behind him however, Clean Sweep was there with eyes widened, mouth hung open and a hoof raised towards her face in horror.

‘I’ll get Spokes to find us a doctor immediately,’ said Beckon Call before turning to the maid, ‘Clean Sweep, take care of the foal while Master Carbon Skies stays with Madam Quillflower.’ Carbon Skies didn’t say anything. He simply nodded at Beckon Call as he looked at him with reddened eyes and remained beside Quillflower. Beckon Call could be heard shouting out Spokes’ name while Clean Sweep rushed in to pick up Rosy Bliss. She remained in the room for a few minutes before deciding it might be best to put Bliss back into her cot. The foal wouldn’t cease crying as she was carried away, her little hooves reaching out for her mother. As Rosy Bliss was taken out of the room, Carbon Skies could see that her emerald eyes, blotted by tears, turned to a shade of green more like algae. The look on her face broke his heart while he fell into a silence that would not break until the doctor had arrived.

Again, there was nothing more that he could do, except wait…

Chapter 5: Wilted

The suddenly bleak atmosphere of the house did not improve once the doctor was there. Outside, it was already dark so Quillflower lay in bed under the house’s pale yellow lighting. The way she looked that moment reminded Carbon Skies of how she appeared the morning after Rosy Bliss was born. All the while, Clean Sweep carefully tended to her in any way she could as the doctor went on with his procedures to examine Quillflower’s temperature, heart rate and breathing. After checking on Quillflower’s condition, the doctor sat beside her silently for a moment, looking towards the floor with a furrowed brow. Then, he approached Carbon Skies without directly looking at him until he was close enough to whisper, ‘I wish to speak to you outside for a moment.’

They both went to the large living room where Carbon Skies had a good look at himself in the mirror the morning he saw Rosy Bliss for the first time. This time, there was nothing lighting up the room in any way; it was early nightfall now and there hadn’t been a single light switched on. The doctor entered, he switched on a lamp that sat on a small table beside a velvety chair near the fireplace and proposed that Carbon Skies may have wished to take a seat. Carbon Skies declined and his whole body involuntarily turned rigid. It filled him with dread as he had a clear idea of what the doctor was going to tell him.

‘Please, just go ahead and tell me how bad it is.’ Carbon Skies pleaded while trying to sound as dignified as he could given the situation.

After Carbon Skies spoke, there was a brief pause before the doctor sighed, ‘She isn’t holding up well at all. To be honest, I think she has only been slightly worse off than if she hadn’t fallen ill at such a late stage in her pregnancy.’

‘What do you mean?’

The doctor looked to one side, rubbing his chin as if to take a moment to pick out his thoughts, ‘Bearing a foal can take a lot out of a mare. It’s not uncommon to one to become incredibly weakened or ill afterwards. I must admit, from how I remember seeing her last time, I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to her sooner.’

It was becoming increasingly difficult for the doctor to look at Carbon Skies in the eye who was trying to hold back his tears. He had seen it before, not often but enough times to know when it was happening.

Quietly, Carbon Skies asked the doctor, ‘How much longer does she have?’

‘Not much,’ the he replied softly. He knew no matter how he answered, pain would be felt from it. ‘I can stay here for as long as I may be needed if you like. In the mean time, it’s best that you spend these last moments with your wife however you can…’

A few tears trickled down the side of Carbon Skies face. He wiped across both his eyes and then simply nodded. As he turned back towards the bedroom, he gestured to the doctor to come with him.

A little while after Carbon Skies came back into the bedroom, Quillflower had woken up. She appeared incredibly weary and seemed to struggle to even keep her eyes open but once she saw Carbon Skies beside her with his hoof onto hers, she wanted to try and stay awake for as long as possible.

Suddenly, she appeared anxious and turned her head about to see as much of the room as possible. She turned back to Carbon Skies and muttered, ‘Where is Bliss? Is she alright?’

‘She’s fine, Flower,’ Carbon Skies assured her, pointing towards the cot ‘She’s right here.’ Quillflower made a long, drawn out sigh of relief and lay her head back until she was facing the ceiling. The room fell into complete silence for several minutes before Carbon Skies decided to speak. ‘Flower,’ he said, ‘If… if there is anything I can do for you right now… please… just, let me know.’ Quillflower continued to lay as she did for a little while longer; she slowly closed her eyes during that time. Her husband could see however, from the look on her face, that she hadn’t fallen to sleep but was actually deep in thought. A few more minutes must have passed before Quillflower quickly opened her eyes again. She turned her head to face Carbon Skies. Her voice was incredibly faint.

‘A story…’ Carbon Skies couldn’t hear it at all. He leaned closely towards Quillflower and waited for her to answer again, ‘Could… could you… read… a story? For me?’

Carbon Skies remained intimately close to Quillflower and whispered to her during this moment. ‘You want me to read a story?’ Quillflower slowly nodded. ‘Of course, Flower! Which one would you like?’

‘You choose…’ She said wearily, ‘I want you… to choose…’

Carbon Skies felt puzzled and stammered a little in response to the suggestion, ‘Oh, I don’t know how I could choose one… Surely, you know which story you would like best.’

Quillflower simply smiled, ‘Read me your favourite.’

Carbon Skies leaned away from Quillflower, setting himself upright at the bed’s side and put one hoof to his mouth, remaining motionless while in thought. Then he looked back to Quillflower and softly said, ‘Then I think I know just the story to choose.’

The other Ponies in the room expressed some confusion when Carbon Skies left only to return with what wasn’t a book but instead a large, pile of worn papers. However, Quillflower instantly recognised what her husband had brought in. It was none other than one of her own manuscripts.

Quillflower’s face was adorned with genuine surprise. ‘B-but dear… th-that one i-i-isn’t… even finished…’ she stammered.

Carbon Skies smiled at her, ‘I know. But that doesn’t matter. Because no matter what ending you could have chosen, it doesn’t change what I love it for…’

Quillflower smiled back. ‘And what is that?’

‘You once told me that what you loved about reading and writing, more than anything else, was how it could bring anyone to strange and wonderful places and show how such places can exist in a world that seems to have lost its colours. You told me how you wanted to become a part of something so magnificent and show the brilliance of the world to others. I did not lack faith in you as I was already captivated with you when we first met, but when you shared with me your dreams through this manuscript, it was then I truly fell into complete adoration…’

Carbon Skies trailed off for a moment, he choked a little trying to hold back his tears.

‘…And I hoped, when we started a family together, that I could have taken you around the world to find those wonderful places that we spoke of ever since.’

The corner of his eyes had reddened as tears streamed down his face and his breath seemed to shudder. However, Quillflower simply smiled back at him, her cheeks also marked with tears.

‘Then lets all go now…’ Quillflower looked to Clean Sweep and waved her forehooves to make a gesture beckoning her, ‘Bring Bliss over here and we can go through this story, and see the world, together.’

Carbon Skies moved to set a chair beside the bed where he could sit while Clean Sweep picked Rosy Bliss up from her cot and handed her to Quillflower. Despite the evident distress that she had been going through earlier that day, the little foal was now fast asleep. The three of them were close together as they were enveloped in the bedside lamp’s glow, which was now the only light source in the room. Even before Beckon Call silently suggested to Clean Sweep and the doctor that they should give the family their privacy, Carbon Skies was able to begin the story as though he, Quillflower and their beautiful little Rose were the only ones in the world at that very moment…

Rosy Bliss was little over a year old when her mother had passed away.

Chapter 7: Another Flower Blooms

By the time Rosy Bliss was sixteen, Carbon Skies had returned to his work as chief supervisor of the mill in the “Blight Streets”. The burden of loss that weighed heavy on his heart had lightened greatly over the years he spent with his darling daughter and he knew, to a considerable degree, he owed Brunet Smoke for that. When Quillflower passed away, it felt as if all his years of strenuous work had been for no one. At that point in his life, working towards his mill felt like an empty task. However, when his friend relieved him of his work to return home, it gave him the time to realise he still had someone to care for; that precious little foal that his beloved wife had held the night she was gone.

Carbon Skies had realised that his misery had clouded his judgement. His wife was gone but they had a child, a precious baby daughter who needed her father more than she ever could need him. He had provided for her and supported her.

Also, in a strange way, although Quillflower has passed, she still managed to remain a part of this world. Their daughter now desired to become a writer and he knew that Quillflower had managed to pass that ambition on.

As she turned eighteen, Rosy Bliss began to more closely resemble her own mother. Her fur coat, once creamy when she was a foal, had lightened to the point it was close to the pristine white that her mother was. Also, her mane was just as wavy, although Rosy’s was thicker and was in the vibrant hue that suited her name. Although her eyes that were once a deep green, turned to a shade closer to turquoise. They were similar to Quillflower’s in their intensity, comparable to that of precious stones.

At this point in her life, Bliss had already been avidly working towards her ambition to become a novelist, on occasions scribbling away at a near frantic pace. Her ideas seemed to literally pour forth onto the pages in a manner that almost seemed desperate. Being an Earth Pony however, writing at such speed caused more complications than convenience as segments of a page sometimes became smudged. This frustrated Bliss, especially whenever she remembered how quickly and efficiently Inkwell, being a unicorn, could write by using her magic to levitate her quill. When she was very young, Rosy Bliss wished that she was a unicorn herself. She knew however, that there was little point in dwelling on such a thing and would persuade herself to shift her focus back to writing.

Whenever she took a break from writing her own stories, Rosy Bliss often turned back to reading Quillflower’s manuscript. At this point, she had already read through it to the end at least three times, yet she found herself drawn to it all the same. Eventually, she found herself so engross in her mother’s tale of Little Rose that she was unaware of the fact that she was being called to.

Clean Sweep was standing at the library’s doorway when she called.

‘Miss…’ she became a little worried when she noticed that Rosy Bliss was not responding, or even seemed to show any sign of movement. ‘Miss, are you alright?’ Clean Sweep called again. She walked into the library and quickly approached Bliss and noticed that she was leaning over the desk. Clean Sweep got close enough to put a hoof on to one shoulder, ‘Bliss?’

Rosy Bliss flung herself aside with such a start when she felt Clean Sweep’s touch. In her sigh of relief, Bliss realised how oblivious she and wondered how come this had never happened to her before.

‘Oh Clean Sweep, you gave me such a fright!’ Bliss panted lightly.

‘Begging your pardon miss,’ Clean Sweep bowed her head apologetically, ‘you were so quiet and still… I was worried you were not well!’

‘There is no need for you to be sorry. I just… I…’ her words trailed off as she gently lay her right hoof onto the manuscript.

‘How long had you known about it?’ Clean Sweep asked. Her voice was perfectly calm. In fact, she had suspected that her discovery of the manuscript was most likely inevitable.

‘It’s been almost seven years now. To be honest, I can’t figure out how I truly went about finding it.’ Bliss stood silent for a moment, looking back at the manuscript still under her hoof ‘…And yet, I remember there being this strange, urgent feeling of curiosity…’

‘Well, everypony gets curious miss, especially as a foal.’ Clean Sweep spoke in an assuring tone.

‘No. No, it wasn’t like that. I seemed to start on an impulse but when I searched this desk, it was almost as if I knew something was hidden here… and here it is.’ Rosy Bliss had trailed off on that last line and continued to stare at the manuscript. The room fell into silence once again as Bliss seemed to be lost in thought before she quickly turned her head to Clean Sweep and spoke so suddenly that the maid was almost startled.

‘Do you think father knows?’

Clean Sweep looked as though she was going to shake her head and then, unsure, resigned to simply bow her head slightly and shrug. Bliss lifted her hoof off the manuscript and briefly put it to her shoulder. ‘I guess I… I have never really been sure myself.’ Bliss thought aloud. ‘He’s never been too afraid to mention mother and yet, she still feels like such a secret to me.’ She looked back at the manuscript, ‘She created it for herself. Her own private story… I guess a part of me felt that this might help me understand… just what was like when she was alive…’

Rosy Bliss and Clean Sweep stood silently in the library for a few minutes. The hue of the sunset was glaring softly though the window and against Bliss’ face as she stared towards it. At first, Clean Sweep didn’t feel there was anything she could say to help. But then, a thought entered her mind that she felt was worth sharing, ‘Perhaps, miss, that the answer is easier to find than you believe it to be.’

Bliss turned to Clean Sweep, her eyes gave a somewhat stunned look. She knew exactly what the kindly meant… and she felt like such a fool for taking so long to realise for herself. Clean Sweep simply gave her a smile.

‘Pardon me miss, will you be all right if I leave you here to sort the desk? Master Carbon Skies should be coming home shortly.’

‘That will be fine, thank you.’ Rosy Bliss nodded. Just as Clean Sweep walked up to the doorway, she turned back to Rosy Bliss and said, ‘Of all the stories Lady Quillflower wrote, your father said that one had always been his favourite.’

Clean Sweep bowed again and left the library to Bliss, who was still looking out the window and had only her thoughts to keep her company.

Two days after her little talk with Clean Sweep, Rosy Bliss decided that it was best to let her thoughts be known to her father.

The two had just finished dinner together and Clean Sweep was there to clear the table. When she came to pick up Rosy Bliss’ plate, they both briefly shared a glance to each other and in that moment, Clean Sweep knew what Bliss planned to do. After everything had been taken off the table, Clean Sweep stopped just at the doorway to the dining room, out of Carbon Skies’ field of vision, and gave Rosy Bliss a nod in acknowledgment. She knew the two would be best left alone for this discussion so once she left Clean Sweep informed the other house servants that Carbon Skies and Rosy Bliss did not wish to be disturbed and should wait until they are called for.

As per custom, Rosy Bliss and her father would spend an hour together in the living room after dinner. This was normally followed by Bliss spending another hour in the library to review the drafts to her stories before going to bed. This time however, Bliss was willing to spend the whole night to get the answers that she wanted. She waited for her father to be seated and sat down on the chair opposite. Both of them were enveloped in the warm glow coming from the fireplace, Carbon Skies picked up a newspaper to read through while Rosy Bliss remained still and silent. As determined as she was, she still needed to compose herself. Briefly, Bliss looked to a book she had left on the small table beside her chair but she refused to touch it, as she felt it could only become a distraction at this moment.

Finally, Rosy took a deep breath and spoke up. ‘Father, can I ask you a question?’

Carbon Skies looked up from his newspaper and set it down beside. Smiling, he said ‘Why of course, dear. What is on your mind?’ He looked to her, waiting patiently.

‘Well, it’s something that I have been wondering for some time now…’ Bliss began to stammer and Carbon Skies’ expression changed slightly.

‘I just wanted to know… what was mother really like?’

Carbon Skies remained still for a moment. Eventually, he looked into Rosy Bliss’ eyes with a smile on his face, yet had a solemn appearance about him. ‘My little Rose…’ he said, ‘how thoughtless I must be to have not spoken to you about this before! Of course! Come, sit closer to me.’ Carbon Skies indicated the chair that was beside him. Bliss got up from her chair and set herself beside her father.

‘Now, I can tell you everything you could ever need to know about your mother, the mare who I loved dearly…’

Chapter 8: Visiting Blight Mill

Rosy Bliss truly was glad that she had that talk with her father. Since then, the two of them were able to maintain a closer family relationship than they ever had before.

Talking to her father about Quillflower was both a relieving experience and yet at the same time a sad revelation. There was something strangely assuring for her in being able to understand why her father didn’t seem to bring up Quillflower that often. It seemed to him that there was little need to reminisce on who his wife was when she was alive because he saw so much of her from his own daughter. Because of that, in a sense, it was though she never left him. He also tried to comfort Rosy Bliss by saying how certain he was that her mother would be proud to see how she had grown. However, Bliss always felt that there was something missing in never being able to truly experience the praise her mother may have given her had she still been alive. She especially would have liked to have known what her mother would have thought of her, since her father said that she did display a more determined and outspoken spirit than Quillflower ever had, certainly around other Ponies.

Suddenly, an odd thought came to her mind; while she had just recently began to properly learn what her mother was like, there were still a few things she didn’t know much of about her father. Bliss had joined her father who decided to go to Canterlot for a short weekend break. It was then, while they were at a charming little café in the city’s main shopping district when Bliss had suddenly asked Carbon Skies:

‘Father, would it be possible for me to see the mill?’

‘Pardon?’ Carbon Skies had a stunned look about him.

‘Could I visit the mill with you during one of your days supervising it?’

‘Oh Rosy, I am not so sure it would of any real interest to you.’

‘Nonsense! It is everything you have worked towards for us, your family, for myself, most of your life. Yet I know almost nothing about it! Do you not think I should have at least a little interest?’
Sure enough, Carbon Skies conceded, as he knew well enough that he couldn’t do anything to persuade his daughter in setting aside her curiosity.

‘Very well,’ Carbon Skies sighed ‘I’ll see if we can arrange something.’ Rosy Bliss beamed and excitedly embraced her father as she repeatedly thanked him and kissed him on the cheek.

Bliss eventually managed to accompany her father for one of his supervisions. While she was certainly impressed with the extent all the Ponies at the mill laboured away, it was little surprise to her father that she didn’t seem interested enough to attend supervision of the mill on a regular basis.

Nevertheless, in her time of visiting the mill, Rosy Bliss became better acquainted with many of her father’s associates, a good number of which had become firm friends with Carbon Skies through their time in running a business together. One such Pony went by the name of Brunet Smoke, who was the very one who suggested to Carbon Skies that he took a break to spend more time with his daughter. This was something Bliss felt rather grateful for and made sure to give Brunet Smoke her thanks. Although he was about the same age as her father, Rosy Bliss thought Brunet to be a rather handsome stallion. His fur coat was a dark shade of brown not unlike the colour you might see just beneath the surface of burnt tree bark. Brunet’s mane was fairly short, barely passing below his jawline. It was well kept and its red clay colour helped bring out his mossy-green eyes. Also, much like Bliss, he was an Earth Pony.

There was a genuine spark of charm to Brunet Smoke as he held Bliss’ hoof in greeting her, ‘It is a great pleasure to be properly acquainted with you at last, young lady.’ He said, with a solemn yet affectionate tone, ‘though your father has spoken of it already, I must say I can see that you really have taken after your mother, rest her soul.’

Rosy Bliss couldn’t help but experience a mixed feeling of delight and sadness from Brunet’s comment.

It wasn’t until about three months later, early into a new year, that Bliss once again attended supervision of the mill with her father. At first, it seemed like this was going to be no different to her last visit. That day, she was introduced to another stallion, one who was much younger than Brunet Smoke or her father. In fact, he may have only been a couple of years older than Bliss herself. He was a unicorn who went by the name of Clock Work, with a tan fur coat whose mane was a near-golden yellow and often hung down obscuring his cool blue eyes. The way his mane sometimes covered part of his face made Rosy Bliss feel that conversing with him was a little awkward since she couldn’t properly look him in the eye. It especially didn’t help that on multiple occasions, he approached as if to converse with her, only to suddenly become incredibly distant. This peculiar behaviour made things really off-putting for Bliss.

She would later find out that Clock Work had recently been brought into the mill out of recommendation from her own father and was being trained to work as a chief engineer for the place.

However, Clock Work wasn’t the only new face that Rosy Bliss saw in the mill.

To her surprise, Bliss saw that a number of young foals were also present in the mill. Not only that but they all seemed to be working among the grown-ups. She even saw some of them crawling into spaces around the mill’s machinery. This made Bliss feel uneasy, as she was aware enough of how dangerous those machines could be. She waited to speak to her father about this until the evening of that same day, since she was not certain as to how the other Ponies of the mill might react to her concerns.

It was whilst they were having their dinner when Bliss decided to speak.

‘Father,’ Bliss called out from her side of the table, looking directly to Carbon Skies.

‘Yes, Rosy?’

‘I saw that there were foals working at the mill today.’

‘Oh…’ Carbon Skies’ voice quickly trailed off. To his daughter, he seemed silent. Nevertheless, Bliss could tell from his expression that he understood immediately where her concerns lied.

‘Have they been working there just recently?’

He felt it was only fair to be completely honest, ‘Truth be told, we had foal workers at the mill last time you visited, months ago. However, the number has increased a fair bit since then.’

Bliss’ expression remained unchanged. ‘Is this normal?’

‘I suppose you could say it is normal. Since not long after the first factories started, they had foal workers. After all, they are much smaller so, as you have probably seen for yourself, they may be relied on to make sure that machines work at their best, particularly for the parts that grown Ponies are too big to reach into.’ It was then Bliss’ face revealed a sense of dread. Carbon Skies continued to speak, hoping that he could say something to reassure her. ‘However, we don’t always have the foals working around the machines. We often put them to work with helping to sort and move the finished materials.’ Carbon Skies managed to put on a confident enough look to smile and thump one hoof against his chest as he boasted, ‘Besides, our mill has the best working machinery in the entire city, if not all of Equestria! I can assure you, you don’t have to worry about the foals being in any danger.’

Rosy Bliss was able to smile at her father’s confidence. However, it quickly waned. ‘Still, it hardly seems like the mill could ever be a suitable place for them.’

Carbon Skies’ smile also faded. After a deep sigh, he looked directly to Rosy Bliss and explained to her in a tone that was matter-of-fact, yet didn’t sound completely detached. ‘Listen to me, my Rose. The truth is you have been a lot more fortunate than many other children living in this city. All the foals there come from families that are significantly poorer than us. Those families rely on every single member to do their part and help support them. That’s why those foals are working in the mill. They will almost certainly have no other place to go.’

Rosy Bliss caught a glimpse of a strange shimmer in her father’s eyes when he quickly turned his head away. He held his eyes closed for a brief moment and then turned back to Bliss. ‘I have never told you this but grandpa used to work in a factory. He even helped build some of Equestria’s first railways… and he was a couple of years younger than you are now during that time.’

Suddenly, Carbon Skies turned his head again to one side, a hoof pressed against his brow and his eyes clamped shut. ‘I think I will retire to bed earlier than usual tonight,’ Carbon Skies groaned faintly. ‘I hope you do not mind.’

Bliss simply replied, ‘Not at all.’

Just before Carbon Skies left the room, Bliss stood up to call out, ‘Wait!’

‘Yes, my Rose?’

‘Would it be possible for me to visit the foals working at the mill? I promise I won’t cause too much a disturbance.’

Carbon Skies was at the doorway, looking over his shoulder. He smiled and said, ‘I’m sure we can arrange something.’

‘Thank you.’ Bliss replied in a hushed tone and bowed her head, as Carbon Skies somewhat wearily walked down the dimly lit corridor to his bedroom.

Chapter 9: Story Time at the Mill

By the following month, Rosy Bliss felt obliged to accompany her father whenever he attended to the mill as she noticed that he was becoming increasingly tired earlier into the day. She suspected that his health was beginning to decline. Such thoughts, understandably, saddened her a great deal but she tried to see the flip side of things. She could make sure that all was well with her father and she was able to see the foals at the mill, just as she promised.

Every night before a day she visited the mill, Rosy Bliss would peruse the library’s collection to pick out a book she could read for the foals. Her reading sessions would always be held in a small room that the foal workers had whenever they were allowed for a break, for a short while. For her first few visits, Bliss had been able to read on with much delight and little interruption. Eventually however, one such session was cut short when a rough looking yet smartly dressed stallion who Bliss did not recognise stomped into the room.

‘What in Equestria is going on here?’ The stallion bellowed. He then pointed to a select number of the foals present, ‘you, you and you lot over there… Your break has been up a good ten minutes ago!’

‘Sorry Mr Iron Wall…’ one foal murmured. It was a little colt with a tan-coloured fur coat and no cutie mark on his flank. He had a mane that was speckled grey, presumably covered in dust. He slowly looked up to the stallion Iron Wall with timid amber eyes, ‘…we just wanted to find out what happens next, sir.’ The little foal added in “sir” hoping that his excuse could somehow sound more dignified. It didn’t.

Iron Wall leered down onto the foal with the dusty mane and spoke again, this time in a condescending tone and with a face to match, ‘Oh? You wanted to know what happens next, did you? Well then, I suppose that makes everything here all right! And by the way,’ He then looked directly towards Rosy Bliss sitting at the back of the room, surrounded by a small drove of foals who clung to her in fear of Iron Wall’s glare ‘what do you think you are doing here?’

Rosy Bliss didn’t recognise the stallion, which made him all the more frightening for her. She could feel a lump in her throat but knew she had to speak up to him. She gulped and took just a moment to recompose herself before she turned her head up to look directly into Iron Wall’s eyes and say as-a-matter-of-factly, ‘I was just reading to these children a story. Since they work long and hard here I thought it would do them some good.’

She knew that putting up with the stallion was far from a pleasant ordeal, yet Rosy Bliss made sure to stand her ground.

‘Some good?’ Iron Wall parroted mockingly. ‘What these foals need is to keep their heads down here in this mill, not up in the clouds with this,’ he paused to point to the book Bliss currently held ‘not this airy-fairy horse feathered nonsense!’

A very young Pegasus in the room seemed to show a mixture of shame and scorn, turning their head down to look closely over their shoulder. He then ruffled his wings with one hoof, as if trying to hide them. The colt was so caught up in this odd little act that he was startled when he saw Brunet Smoke and at least one other Earth Pony step into the doorway.

‘Iron Wall, would you care to explain why you are yelling at the children… again?’ Brunet Smoke ended his sentence through gritted teeth. ‘What exactly is going on?’

‘I’ll tell you what’s going on!’ Iron Wall pointed to Rosy Bliss without even looking at her, ‘this mare has been disrupting a number of foals who should be at work right now! I don’t know about you, Brunet Smoke, but Carbon Skies and I appreciate the fact that we need to make sure that the mill continues to supply according to demand.’

Brunet Smoke was able to remain level-headed while confronting the fuming stallion, ‘Well, I’m sure that Carbon Skies wouldn’t appreciate you yelling at his own daughter now, would he?’ Iron Wall flinched. ‘If you would let me, I will have a word with her,’ he then turned to Rosy Bliss, ‘if you don’t mind. M’lady?’

Rosy Bliss got up and walked to the end of the room. She turned to look to all the foals and gave a quick goodbye. As she got out, she made sure not to look towards Iron Wall as she could still feel his stern glance being turned against her. It made her very uneasy. Brunet Smoke didn’t say another word to Bliss until he was certain that they were a good distance away from Iron Wall and that he could find a room in which the two of them could discuss the matter privately.

‘So this is what you have been up to during your recent visits, hmm?’ a smile slowly curled from the corners of Brunet Smoke’s mouth. Bliss noticed that he always seemed to have this kind of suave attitude about him, she even found it a little over-bearing at times. This instance was no exception but it didn’t stop her from speaking up, ‘My father said it would be okay.’

‘He did? Well, I wish he had told me about this…’

‘He didn’t?’ Bliss was surprised.

‘No. I’m also surprised that he never thought to warn you about Iron Wall.’

‘So am I…’ Bliss looked to the floor with a brief tremble. She couldn’t imagine her father associating himself with anyone who seemed so aggressive.

Brunet Smoke noticed her trembling. ‘I can assure you, he isn’t entirely unpleasant.’ He then let out a deep sigh, ‘He just… rarely seems to show that other side to him.’ It was apparent this wasn’t making Bliss feel any better so Brunet Smoke decided to get back on to the point of this discussion. ‘I don’t see any reason for you to stop reading to the children. If anything, you are right. It will do them some good.’ He could Bliss’ face lighten up a little, even if she didn’t look up. ’I would, however, recommend that we have someone supervise the reading sessions. Just so we can be certain the little ones do make sure they get back to work when they need to.’

Rosy Bliss decided that this would be a compromise she could accept. Especially since the alternative would most likely be not getting to read to the foals at all.

Just as she was about to say she accepted the offer, she noticed Brunet Smoke looking towards the doorway. She turned to see that the amber-eyed colt from earlier was standing there, looking incredibly timid. Bliss couldn’t help but notice some of the dust had been shaken off from the colt’s mane, as its colour appeared to be more like a pale brown.

‘Excuse me, ma’am.’ The little colt sounded very timid.

‘Why yes, my little Pony?’ Rosy Bliss replied, urging the foal to speak up.

‘I just wanted to say I really enjoyed hearing your story, ma’am.’

‘Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ Bliss was beaming. She never had any of the foals thank her up front before.

‘Some of the others say that you are a writer. You’re really good, ma’am.’

Now she was filled with delight. ‘Again, thank you! However, that wasn’t one of my stories. I am a writer though… Trying to be, at least.’ She didn’t want to sound too boastful.

‘Do you have any stories of your own, ma’am?’ The tan colt asked.

‘Why, yes I do. If you like, after we finish the story I’m currently reading, I could bring one of my own over next time I visit.’

The little colt’s eyes shined. Very eagerly, he nodded. Rosy Bliss then brushed the colt’s mane with a hoof and then brought out a handful of toffee sweets. ‘Be sure to share this with your friends.’ Bliss told the colt. He nodded again and briskly paced out of the room to return to his post.

Brunet Smoke chuckled quietly and gently put a hoof to Bliss’ shoulder as he walked up beside her, ‘You see milady? They work here because they need to, but I haven’t seen a single one smile like that until you started coming here. They need you here...’

Chapter 10: The Accident

Within a few weeks, Rosy Bliss had finished the latest book she brought to read to the foals at the mill. Now, as she promised, she had to bring one of her own stories to read. But which one? Admittedly, she didn’t have a large selection to pick through but it didn’t help make her decision any easier.

It was the night before she would visit the mill again with her father and she still sat by the desk, shuffling through her own manuscripts. As she let out a small groan of frustration, Bliss lay her head against the desk surface and lay still for a moment. Slowly, she lifted her head and turned to look to the compartment that contained her mother’s manuscript. A few doubts flew across her mind that any of her stories may have had as much appeal as that one did. In fact, it was at that point it occurred to her that none of her own stories had a foal as a lead character. None of them contained anything like the flights of fancy her mother had conjured. Oddly, enough, despite the kind of books she had read since childhood, all of Bliss’ stories attempted to keep themselves more grounded in reality. They were set in grand cities not unlike her hometown Birminghoof, and were more like the works of historical fiction.

If Rosy Bliss hadn’t regretted her choice in her artistic direction before, she certainly did now.

Bliss let out a deep sigh, feeling increasingly weary. She still hadn’t turned her gaze away from where Quillflower’s manuscript was stored. A curious little thought entered her mind.

By now, she has read through the manuscript several times and it doesn’t seem like there is any ending in sight for Little Rose. Even when Little Rose finally did make it back home, it seemed for almost less than naught, as she couldn’t find her family there. Beyond that, the filly also came to realise that “home” seemed incredibly limited in possibility and majesty compared to what she had seen. Driven by the desire to discover more, she left her home city and decided to further explore the world while following any clues to the whereabouts of her family. With the map given to her by that stag of the faraway island, it was almost as if she had the entire world in her hooves.

Bliss always made it to the last page just when it seemed like Little Rose’s adventure had only begun.

When Rosy Bliss finally took the opportunity to speak to her father about Quillflower, she told him about finding the manuscript. It was not only at this point that she found out that Carbon Skies wasn’t the least bit surprised to be told that but he also shared with her how Quillflower had no intention in ever finished it, let alone have it published.

It had then dawned on Rosy Bliss that there was the possibility that Quillflower wanted to pass on the manuscript to her daughter. This in turn gave her the responsibility of continuing the Little Rose’s adventures across a land that was continually expanding.

The feeling of uncertainty loomed over her, but deep within her heart, there was the belief that this was something her mother intended. She wouldn’t make her decision on this just yet. For the time being, she figured there would be no harm in making do with just sharing her mother’s fantasies with the little foals at the mill.

As Rosy Bliss stood outside the mill with her father, she was still feeling a little tired. She had spent the night working on binding Quillflower’s manuscript in order to keep it safe while she took it outside the house. Just before they arrived at the mill, Carbon Skies expressed some concerns;

‘My dear Rose, are you sure you want to be here today. You don’t seem to be at all well.’ He was certain that the mill would be an incredibly uncomfortable place to be for Rosy Bliss given the condition she was in since earlier that morning. As they rode the carriage, Bliss almost fell completely asleep on multiple occasions. Although, Carbon Skies didn’t sound much better himself. His voice had been rasping slightly for the last couple of weeks.

‘It’s okay, father. I am going to be fine…’ She said, attempting to reassure Carbon Skies. After all the trouble she put herself through last night, she couldn’t just stay at home.

However, it turned out her father’s caution was not without reason. When she got far enough inside the mill, the sound of the working machinery seemed far more intense than Bliss had ever heard them. A horrid, pulsing sensation repeatedly burst in her head to the point that it made her feel disorientated. Fortunately for her, Carbon Skies had already made his own way around the mill by that time. However, Brunet Smoke found her shortly afterward, strongly advising that she should stay outside and get some fresh air. Still, Rosy Bliss was far too reluctant and she insisted that Brunet Smoke instead lead her to the break room for the working foals and do so while avoid being near any of the machinery as often as possible.

She didn’t want to disappoint the young foals by not turning up as she always promised. Besides, she knew a throbbing headache was hardly the worst thing that could ever happen whilst in a place like this.

‘You mean foals also worked in the factories and mills?!’ Apple Bloom exclaimed. Cheerilee had just been talking to the foals about the day Rosy Bliss visited her father’s mill and saw the little foals working among the machinery. Cheerilee’s face showed a hint of disapproval with Apple Bloom’s outburst. She quickly recomposed herself and answered politely.

‘Yes, Apple Bloom. In fact, it was not at all uncommon for the fillies and colts of poorer families to work at a younger age than those whose parents were much wealthier.’

‘What kind of jobs did the foals have then?’ Scootaloo asked.

’Well, some of them would have helped a little with sorting the mill’s materials. Although many of them would have worked at the actual machinery, usually cleaning up areas of the machines that were too small for grown Ponies to reach into.’

‘But wasn’t that dangerous, miss Cheerilee?’ asked another foal.

Another foal, Scootaloo again, spoke up, ‘Yeah, didn’t anypony get hurt?’

Miss, Cheerilee,’ Apple Bloom joined in, ‘did an accident ever occur when Rosy Bliss was around?’

Cheerilee fell into a grim silence for just a short moment. At first, Cheerilee had her reservations about giving the foals the real answer, but she could already see they understood perfectly. She kept her severe expression and gave them the answered in a solemn tone.

‘I’m afraid so…’

The foals were evidently troubled upon hearing this truth, yet they didn’t seem as perturbed as Cheerilee expected them to be. Shortly after the foals stood silent with their teacher, they looked among one another and gave Cheerilee a nod, to show they were ready to continue with the story.

Apple Bloom stepped forward, ‘So, what did Rosy Bliss do?’

Rosy Bliss sat quietly before the roomful of foals in their “break room”, many of them were feeling puzzled and uneasy with Bliss’ silence. She couldn’t help but notice that some of the little ones were still missing, including the amber-eyed colt. She kept looking up at the clock, and could see that it showed the time to be 10:47. Both the adults and children had morning break starting 10:30. However, while the foals had break that lasted half an hour, the grown Ponies had to return to work at 10:45. Bliss would have expected all the foals to be here by now. Finally, she spoke.

‘Excuse me, children but do any of you know where everypony else is?’

‘They are still out there, ma’am. Iron Wall had them stay behind to finish cleaning up before the adult’s next shift.’ One of the foals replied.

‘Please ma’am,’ another foal called out, ‘can we start the story now? We have to start working again soon. Couldn’t you read to the others when they get here later?’

Rosy Bliss wasn’t so sure. She preferred reading when everyone was present. But the foal may have had a point. However, Bliss herself was not in all too good a state to think things through. Even if the break room was quieter than any other part of the mill, the headache she had earlier that morning was still working against her.

Just as she was about to say something to the children, a whistle sounded throughout the mill that rung horribly in her head. Instinctively, she pressed her hooves over her ears and found herself feeling confused.

She thought to herself, ‘Why have they sounded the whistle for lunch now?’

Then she realised that couldn’t be right. This was a different noise. She slowly lifted her head and noticed the foals all had a look about them that gave off a sense of dread. From the doorway, she also saw a few other Ponies rushing along the corridor. Although her heart sunk, Bliss stood up and ran towards to the door before looking back to the foals, ‘Please stay here, children!’ she cried out, even though a part of her knew that wasn’t at all necessary. Bliss began to follow the stallions ahead of her in the corridor. Despite the noise becoming increasingly unbearable for her, she pushed herself to follow them still, knowing they were getting closer to the machine-filled rooms.

When Rosy Bliss finally entered the large room where the mill’s machines ran, she noticed they were moving more slowly over time, as many of them had now been deactivated. Still, their screeching, clanging and hissing noise still resonating throughout the building. Although many of the Ponies in the room remained at their workstations, further down, Bliss could see where a number of Ponies had crowded around.

The sound of the machines was dying down some more but Bliss could still feel the ringing in her head, to the point it made her feel completely disorientated. Still, when she got closer, Bliss managed to make some sense of what was happening the group. She shortly started to wish that she couldn’t.

The Ponies that rushed together were circled around Iron Wall, in a way Bliss never imagined him before, with a face stricken by panic and grief. Gently, he seemed to be cradling something with one of his forehooves, while brushing its pale, dust coloured hair with the other. In no time, Bliss realised that Iron Wall was tending to the tan colt she spoke to the other month. She could see no sign of him looking to anyone with his bright amber eyes.

Barely able to stand herself up, Bliss held open her mouth to let out a silent scream.

Her vision had become so blurred, she didn’t notice Brunet Smoke and her father looking at her, their faces filled with horror. They got the attention of another Pony and altogether rushed towards her and help her up and lead her out of the mill.

Before she was even out of the room, Rosy Bliss had completely blacked out.

Chapter 11: Cold Rose

Rosy Bliss didn’t come to until much later in the afternoon. When she did wake up, she found herself in her bed, with her father anxiously seated beside her. Brunet Smoke stood next to Carbon Skies and Clean Sweep sat at the other side of the bed. She gave a relieved smile when Bliss looked at her.

‘Thank Celestia! My dear, you really had brought on the lot of us the worst fear imaginable!’ said Brunet Smoke.

‘Oh goodness, my little Rose,’ cried Carbon Skies, ‘are you alright?’

Rosy Bliss slowly nodded but didn’t say a word. It wasn’t as though she was incapable of speaking. She was still feeling a little dizzy and couldn’t help but notice a faint throbbing sensation coming from the back of her head. It made her wonder if that happened when she fell.

Even though she made a response, it seemed that everyone else, least of all Carbon Skies, didn’t appear to be reassured. So, Bliss shuffled her body a little to prop herself upright against her pillows and bedhead and gave them a vocal reply. Her voice came out very husky so she tried clearing her throat.

‘Shall I pour you some water, miss?’ said Clean Sweep.

‘Yes, please.’ Bliss replied weakly, her voice still coarse.

A crystal clear jug of water and empty glass was already set at the bedside table on the side Clean Sweep sat by. The maid poured some water from the jug into the glass and carefully handed it to Rosy Bliss. After she had taken three or four gulps, Bliss put the glass back down herself and tried clearing her throat again.

‘I’m feeling much better, thank you.’ Bliss finally said, softly. She thought it was best for her to still keep her voice down at the moment.

‘It certainly is a relief to see you recover, milady. You really had Iron Wall in a state when he saw you wandering around the assembly line.’

Iron Wall… Bliss remembered. She could remember how he was there, cradling the little colt… just after…

‘Could you leave us just for a moment, please?’ Carbon Skies asked softly as he turned to Brunet Smoke. Without even looking eye-to-eye at Carbon Skies, whose head hung low, Brunet Smoke seemed to understand perfectly.

‘Very well.’ He gave a nod and made a quick glance to Clean Sweep. The two walked out of the room together, leaving Rosy Bliss alone with her father.

The two of them sat in complete silence for what felt like hours before Carbon Skies feebly extended a forehoof to place onto one of Rosy Bliss’. ‘Rose?’ He murmured, unable to think of anything else to say. However, he didn’t seem to get any response as Bliss continued to gaze vacantly at the wall opposite to her bed. Carbon Skies would slowly repeat his daughter’s name, the coarseness of his voice sounding increasingly fragile each time.

Even though she seemed fully awake, Rosy Bliss still found herself in a haze. The moment Brunet Smoke mentioned Iron Wall, she felt as if her whole body had suddenly shut down all other functions to focus purely on the cogs rampantly spinning in her mind. She thought back on when Brunet Smoke said that the children at the mill needed her, how excited the amber-eyed colt was when she promised him a story of her own, that colt who is now…

‘Oh god!’ Bliss suddenly cried out, her body curled forward as if in agonising pain.

At once, both her and her father were reduced to tears. They closed in on each other as Carbon Skies gently lay his daughter’s forehead against his shoulder. Through a broken voice, he repeatedly whispered, ‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…’

They remained still for almost half an hour, quietly weeping together.

‘You mean she ran away?!’ Scootaloo shouted out among the class of foals.

‘Shhhh!’ There was an irate security guard nearby while Scootaloo’s voice still echoed lightly around the room.

‘Well, yes Scootaloo,’ Cheerilee replied, ‘I suppose you could say she did…’

‘But why did she leave? Didn’t she know that the foals at the mill needed her there?’ asked another foal.

‘To be honest, it’s hard to say. But in all likelihood, at the time, she didn’t fully realise why she was so important to the working foals. Nopony can ever know what was really going on in her mind’

‘So what do you think, Miss Cheerilee?’ asked Apple Bloom.

The question caught Cheerilee a little by surprise. It certainly showed that the foals were really interested in her story. In any case, she was much obliged in giving them an answer. ‘To put it simply, I think Rosy Bliss was scared. After all, until the incident, she lived a very sheltered life. She may have not expected it was possible that the foals to ever really in any danger working there. It has been known that Rosy Bliss grew to strongly object to having foals work in the mills and factories. However, to every other Pony, not only was it considered normal for members of poorer families to work at a young age, it was pretty much expected. I think Rosy Bliss was scared because she felt that she was alone in how she felt.’

‘Hang on a minute!’ Another, less patient foal shouted out and the security guard appeared once again from the corridor.

‘Shhh!’

‘You still haven’t explained where the Storyloom came from! Who made it? Carbon Skies didn’t make it, and I’m guessing Rosy Bliss didn’t either. So who did?’

Cheerilee gave a disapproving glare to the shouting foal. She then quickly recomposed herself and continued, ‘The truth is even though Rosy Bliss was important to the invention of the Storyloom, its inventor was actually a Pony who never really was directly a part of her life.’

‘Who was that Pony?’ asked Sweetie Belle.

‘You didn’t have to ask, she’s going to tell us anyway…’ said Scootaloo before she and Sweetie Belle were both nudged by Apple Bloom, who then motioned them to keep quiet.

‘The Storyloom’s inventor was a strange, shy but very clever Pony who actually worked alongside Bliss’ father. He was none other than one of the mill’s key engineers, Clock Work.’

‘He’s very fond of you, you know.’ said Carbon Skies, slowly rising from his bed.

‘Pardon?’ Rosy Bliss grunted as she helped her father up from the bedside.

‘Come now, my little Rose, you know who and what I’m talking about. Clock Work, one of my engineers. He has taken quite a liking to you.’

‘Oh yes, him.’ Rosy Bliss let out a brief moan, ‘I am very much aware of that. But don’t get any ideas, father. The poor creature can hardly form a sentence whenever I’m around… and you know how I feel about a stallion like that.’ She spoke in a sarcastic tone, although she meant no harm from it.

‘Keep in mind that I initially didn’t find it at all easy to speak to your mother when I first met her.’ Carbon Skies said with a smile.

‘Yes father, but I think it’s safe to say that you and mother had a mutual interest in one another.’ With that, Bliss made her point clear and Carbon Skies had no intention of pushing further.

‘That is fine, my flower’ he chuckled, ‘you either like him or you don’t. It’s not in my place to tell you how you should feel.’

Even after Carbon Skies got out of bed, the two stood together closely while they talked.

Bliss smiled, ‘Do you think you will be okay on your own for now?’

‘I should manage just fine now, thank you.’

So, Bliss shifted her own weight away, lightly kissed him on the cheek and left the room.

Rosy Bliss was reading while she sat on the bench out in the garden when Beckon Call appeared from the house.

‘Ma’am,’ he called out, ‘another package has arrived, addressed to you.’

Bliss replied ‘You can bring it in over here.’ So Beckon Call stepped forward with a box wrapped in brown parcel paper fastened to his side as it sat in a saddlebag. When he approached the bench, he lifted the box by the string tied around it with his teeth and gently placed it on top of the small pile of books that was beside Bliss. As she thanked him, Beckon Call simply gave her a nod and left.

There was a piece of folded card held between the string and box. She slipped out the card to read it before she even bothered untying the string. She knew all too well who had sent her this. Clock Work.

This wasn’t the first gift he had sent her. They all arrived in the same sized box, wrapped in the same brown paper, lightly mottled with dark splotches that had a strange, greasy feel and smell to them. Definitely machine oil. Rosy Bliss was convinced that the odd little Pony lived in the mill as well as work in it. Not only did the boxes always look the same but they were accompanied with the same message:

My dearest Rose in all of Equestria, please accept this token of affection, which I hope captures the very nature of your fragile beauty.

It all became so familiar to her that she managed to make receiving Clock Work’s parcels something of a ritual. However, when she unfolded the card to read it this time, the message was different:

O shining star in this fog-filled city! When will you ever return?

Even though the message had changed, the present was the same as always. Inside the box was a rose. But nothing at all like any of the roses that grew in the garden around her. This one was crafted from metal. It lacked any colour that felt natural for a flower. The metal’s dark surface made it look as if it had been burnt. The edges made it seem unsafe to hold and it was very cold to the touch. Rosy Bliss always thought to herself that it was such a curious idea. She could not deny the dedication and impressive craftsmanship that was required to create something like it but it seemed so strange to receive something that felt so harsh and unforgiving, and be expected to see how it could ever compliment the words “fragile beauty”.

Even if she wasn’t ever sold on the message, she certainly found it to be a rather sweet gesture… at first. She had addressed this to Clock Work before. She told him that she appreciated how he thought of her but openly stated that the feeling just wasn’t mutual. However, the fact that he seemed to persist with these parcels regardless of what she said was no longer the main reason they annoyed her. They reminded her of the mill, the first thing in the world that she had ever truly wanted to hate.

Even though a month had passed, Rosy Bliss was reluctant to admit that the incident had deterred her from coming back to the mill. However, that was seldom on her mind since her father’s health was in decline.

By now, while Rosy Bliss was still in her early twenties, Carbon Skies was getting close to his sixties. Although that wasn’t terribly old, even for a Pony in that time, he had worked long and hard for a significant part of his life. It was finally taking its toll on him.

Carbon Skies no longer possessed the proud physique that even Rosy Bliss recognised from her childhood but he was hardly thin. Nevertheless, any tasks he had to face throughout the day involving a good amount of strength – for better or for worse, lifting himself out of bed every morning was the most common instance – were of the most difficult and uncomfortable sort. It never necessarily caused him any pain but it was certain that he would no longer be as strong as he once was. Rosy Bliss wouldn’t have felt as bad about it if it weren’t for the fact that her father already seemed to be making arrangements regarding future ownership of his mill.

Even though she never wanted to think about it, she would always be reminded of the mill in some way.

The stained wrapping paper gave off that unpleasant greasy smell, which only seemed to smell worse to her since the incident. Then there were the harsh edges of the leaves and flower of the roses themselves that brought back images of the vicious, sharp metal pieces that remembered seeing click, chatter and hum inside the machines of the mill. Bliss closed her eyes and those noises only grew louder in her head and quickly got to the point of feeling impossible to bear. Suddenly, she stood up, flung the card and rose back into the box and threw it with all her strength into the wall of the house. A dull thud sounded upon collision, followed by a faint clinking when it dropped to the ground.

Rosy Bliss turned away muttering, ‘I will never return to that horrid place!’

As she remained standing in the garden mulling over it all, Rosy Bliss looked up over the fence towards the park. Suddenly, amid the silence of her surroundings, she choked to the point of sobbing, cupping her hooves over her face. She had done nothing to exert herself, yet her breath felt hot and she began to pant heavily.

It was the first time she had ever felt angry.

Chapter 12: Passing

She always thought of it to be inevitable, but she never before thought to leave like this…

Late one evening, Rosy Bliss stood at the door to her father’s bedroom for a long minute. She looked to her hooves and took a deep breath before knocking.

‘Is it you, Rose?’ Carbon Skies called out from the other side.

‘Yes father.’

‘Do come in, dear.’

The room was dark, save for the bedside lighting. Carbon Skies was in his bed, having propped himself up against the bedhead. He smiled at Bliss and gestured for her to sit on the chair set up beside his bed.

‘You wanted to speak with me?’

‘Yes. There has been something on my mind this past month or so. I think it’s finally time I let it be known to you. It is important that you hear this sooner rather than later’

Rosy Bliss laid a hoof on her father’s, ‘What is it father?’

‘You don’t need to be here anymore.’

A grim silence hung in the air. Bliss sat still like a statue, with a stunned look in her eyes. Finally, she murmured ‘P-p…pardon?’

Carbon Skies lay back slightly more, his expression never appearing completely severe, yet everything was stated as a matter of fact.

‘There is no use in denying it, my dear Rose. When I am gone, there will be nothing else for you here. You want to have nothing to do with the mill, I understand that and I don’t want to be holding you back. This city is not the place for a Pony with dreams such as yours. You need to go and find your own place, where you can make you realise those dreams. I am telling you this right now because I know that it is not right for you to be holding yourself back while we wait for what is inevitable.’

Bliss did not like to hear this but she knew everything Carbon Skies was telling her to be true. Her eyes began to well up.

‘I have spoken to everyone else. Beckon Call and Clean Sweep have agreed to help pack your things as soon as you wish. Spokes is also ready and willing to take you to the station once you have everything together.’

Bliss was in tears at this point. ‘But father, I can’t just leave you like this! Is this really what you want me to do for you?’ she cried.

‘My Rose, please… I’m not asking you to do this for me… I’m asking you to do this for yourself.’

Bliss lowered her head in contemplation for a long while, never letting go of her father’s hoof. They both remained silent the entire time. Finally, Bliss lifted her head back up, eyes still reddened and cheeks streaked with tears, ‘Very well. I understand…’ she tried to muster enough strength to smile, ‘but isn’t there at least one more thing we could do together?’

‘I could do with one more adventure…’ Carbon Skies simply smiled at Bliss, his expression more confident than hers. ‘I know… Rose, could you read me a story?’

Rosy Bliss lightly nodded and said, ‘I think I know just the one.’

She headed out of the bedroom and saw that Beckon Call and Clean Sweep were already both standing by the door. Bliss took a deep breath and nodded to them without a word. They both nodded back, understanding what they had to do. When Bliss returned to her father, she had brought with her the old, worn manuscript of The Incredible Adventures of Little Rose.

Bliss decided to move the chair aside and sat on the edge of the bed itself. Her father propped himself back up so that he rest against the bedhead and the two sat closely together.

Through the evening, until the darkest hours of the early morning, the two embarked on the incredible journey; from the lonely island Little Rose wakes up on, to the crystalline caverns that housed the majestic stag; from the lively jungle of Quetzal to the searing Yara-ma Desert; from the mountainous cities of the Griffon Kingdom to the treacherous seas of the vicious Leviathan, and beyond. Although Carbon Skies hadn’t read the manuscript since Quillflower passed away, going through it once more with his daughter made the memories of that night seem as fresh as yesterday. By the time Bliss had managed to read all the way through however, she saw that Carbon Skies was leaning against her shoulder as he had fallen asleep. Bliss helped properly tuck her father into bed without disturbing him from his slumber. Once she had laid her father onto his back, she wrapped one hoof over his shoulder to gently embrace him. Then, she kissed him on the brow and switched off the light.

‘Goodnight father,’ she said softly ‘goodnight, goodbye and thank you for everything you have done for me.’

Slowly, she walked out of the doorway without ever looking back, even as she quietly closed the door. There were tears once again slowly rolling down her cheeks. Everything in her room had been packed together, thanks to Beckon Call and Clean Sweep. Bliss had Beckon Call pass on the message to Spoke that she was to leave for the station first thing in the morning.

Carbon Skies passed away six months after Rosy Bliss had left. His dearest friend, Brunet Smoke, honoured him by renaming the mill on the Blight Streets “Carbon Skies Mill”.

Chapter 13: New Frontiers

Even though Rosy Bliss wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of leaving her father behind, the further she rode away from Birminghoof, the more she began to appreciate what Carbon Skies was trying to tell her.

Out the window, there was an incredible beauty to the countryside that she had rarely seen, as she had spent almost all her life so far in the city. Immediately, Bliss knew that if she was to live somewhere new, it had to be a place where she could freely look out to the lush green fields and tranquil woodlands. However, she also knew that it was important to be near a city that could help her find the means to realise her desire to become a writer. And she already knew the very city she was looking for: Oxerford.

It truly was a splendid looking place. At the very least, none of the buildings looked anywhere near as soot-ridden as plenty of those back in Birminghoof. She could have sworn the air even looked cleaner.

As she got closer to the city centre, she could see what it was that the city of Oxerford was made famous for. Rosy Bliss adored the Royal Museum of Oxerford. Its exterior was covered with its carvings depicting the assorted flora and fauna of Equestria, both known and imagined. They were so vivid in their detail, while Bliss stared at it for an extended amount of time, there was a strange impression of movement, as if the masonry was alive.

There were plenty of other museums around the city, though none were ever as large. However, more importantly, all of them were affiliated with the city’s university, that was regarded as the true heart and soul of Oxerford.

As much as she would have been intrigued by the prospect of it, Rosy Bliss was certain that she wouldn’t ever be able considered eligible to study in such a place. She knew that because of its reputation as being one of the most esteemed of all of Equestria’s universities, they held incredibly high expectations for all their applicants. Then again, it didn’t seem entirely necessary for her either. Bliss was confident that she had a genuine talent for her writing. However, up until this point in her life, all she ever had to assure her of that was her father…

‘Maybe,’ Bliss thought to herself, ‘if I could get acquainted enough with some of the Ponies here… I’m sure it couldn’t hurt my chances.’ In any case, she was curious enough to have a look around anyway.

Although there was considered to be only one university in Oxerford, it actually consisted of several different college buildings. Bliss approached one of these buildings based in the city’s broad street which housed not only one of the university’s museums – which is also known to be the first one to ever exist in Equestria – but also the city’s most well known bookshop, Greywell’s.

By the entrance of the college building, Rosy Bliss could see a sign advertising for an “open lecture” on poetry that any Pony could attend. Although Bliss may not have ever considered herself to be a poet, having never even tried it before, she considered it to at least be the next best thing. It nevertheless excited her with the possibility of finally meeting other Ponies who were more like her in their interests.

She was allowed into the college grounds by a couple of Ponies who were posted at the building’s entrance and given directions to the lecture theatre where the event was being held. The room was quite tall, with close to twenty rows of seats going all the way to the back of the room, each row higher than the one ahead. There were a modest number of attendees present at the time. Since Bliss entered the room, a few more Ponies followed, though none of them she was comfortable enough to approach. By the time the lecturer finally arrived, the auditorium was still just a little more than half full.

The Pony who was running the lecture was a professor named Witted Twist. Although the way he dressed was perfectly conventional – his outfit almost completely resembled those of the other professors who sat to one side by the wall opposite the attendees – he had an odd presence about him that exuded with an undeniable eccentricity. This became even more so the moment he began to speak.

Child of the pure unclouded brow
And dreaming eyes of wonder!
Though time be fleet, and I and thou
Are half a life asunder…

Rosy Bliss shortly found out that the poem Witted Twist had started his lecture with was of his own invention. She rather liked it, feeling it had a genuine child-like charm to it.

Once the lecture was over, Bliss immediately tried to take a chance at speaking with the professor.

‘Excuse me, professor!’ Bliss called out while trying to make her through the group of Ponies still leaving the room.

‘Hello?’ His voice was in a tone that was exuberant and at the same time intrigued.

Finally, the young mare managed to walk up to Witted Twist. All the other Ponies had left save for a couple of the other professors who waited patiently at the door.

‘Hello professor, my name is Rosy Bliss.’ She held out a hoof in greeting.

He gratefully accepted and they shook hooves, ‘Witted Twist. It’s a pleasure to meet you. So what did you think of the talk? I take it you are a fellow poet.’

‘Oh, not at all.’ Bliss was a little embarrassed with her confession, ‘I have never taken to poetry before. However, I do love to read and I often write my own stories.’

‘Excellent! Today a reader, tomorrow a leader!’ Witted Twist chirped. Rosy Bliss was slightly taken aback by the flamboyance of his response. He then briefly gazed at Bliss contemplatively. ‘Though, I would have thought for someone with as much enthusiasm for literature, I would have seen you at one of these lectures before.’

‘Oh, well I only just arrived at this city. It’s the first time I’ve ever been here.’ Rosy Bliss explained to him.

‘Ah, a visitor… Where from?’

‘I came a long way, from Birminghoof, to be exact. The truth is, I’m looking to move into here. I’ve been hoping to find somewhere new to make my home where I could better make a name for myself as a writer.’

‘Well, you have come to the right place!’

‘Thank you.’ Rosy Bliss gave a bright smile. ‘Pardon me professor but how often do you give these talks?’

‘Not that often,’ Witted Twist replied ‘I only stand as a guest lecturer.’

‘Do you not normally teach in Oxerford?’

‘Oh, I am a professor of this university. Just not one of literature.’

Bliss was slightly confused by this. ‘So what do you normally teach?’

‘My specialty happens to be in mathematics.’

Bliss just stared at the stallion, with an eyebrow raised. How unusual, she thought to herself. A maths professor who writes poetry! However, she couldn’t think of anything else to say until Witted Twist spoke again.

‘Of course, we could still talk some more about poetry, or stories, or whatever you would like. Care to join me? There’s a public house not too far from here. I’ll be meeting with a few peers of mine who I think you will love to get acquainted with. In fact, I know a friend there who may even be able to help you find somewhere to stay.’

This was a great surprise to Rosy Bliss. She had just arrived, it was too good to be true! Such an offer felt impossible to refuse.

‘Thank you,’ she replied, ‘I would be glad to join you!’

Rosy Bliss knew that she was going to like living here.

‘So what did Clock Work do?’ asked one of the foals.

‘Pardon?’ said Cheerilee.

‘What did Clock Work do? After Rosy Bliss left?’

‘As he had no intention to give up trying to win Rosy Bliss' heart, upon finding out that she had left Birminghoof, Clock Work set out himself, hoping to find her.’

‘That seems a little weird…’ Said another foal.

‘Well children,’ Cheerilee explained, ‘it has been said for a long time that Ponies will do some of the weirdest things when they strongly believe in the feelings they have for others.’

Clock Work packed away everything he could ever take with him once he found out where Rosy Bliss had gone away. He hadn’t seen her ever since the day of the incident at Carbon Skies Mill. As the weeks turned into months, not seeing Bliss brought on to him a feeling of lovesickness that burned in his chest. He had to see her. There was one more idea he had ticking away in his mind. As he dozed off during the train journey to Oxerford, Clock Work recalled the final talk he had with Carbon Skies.

‘Permission?’ Carbon Skies rasped. His voice was incredibly coarse. Clock Work stood nervously beside the bed.

‘Yes sir, I wish to ask for your permission to take your daughter’s hoof in marriage.’ He proclaimed. His face turned more severe as he saw Carbon Skies’ increasingly perplexed reaction. However, he never expected the old stallion to break into laughter.

‘You really are a funny one, aren’t you?’ he said. His laughter grew until he was ceased by a small coughing fit.

Clock Work was nothing short of confused. ‘Excuse me, sir?’

Carbon Skies pounded a hoof against his chest and sat himself upright. His expression suddenly became more serious as he looked at Clock Work, ‘I believe I am a reasonable stallion, and I like to think that I brought up my daughter as best as I could. You needn’t come to me and ask permission for anything. You mean well, you’ve trusted your own feelings and are acting through them. However, what you’re asking is a matter that can only be answered to by my daughter. If you ask her and she says no, you must be willing to accept that and move on. Do you understand?’

Clock Work has worked fairly closely with Carbon Skies, for as long as he has been working at the mill. While he may have never really been a stallion of many words, Clock Work remembered some heartfelt moments with the Carbon Skies that even made him feel like something of a father figure. However, this was the first truly serious conversation they ever had together.

Clock Work stammered a bit before he finally gave a sharp nod and quickly replied, ‘Yes.’

Carbon Skies quickly changed expression again back to a kindly smile, ‘Very good,’ he said, ‘I believe you have some potential which could really make you amount to something, my boy. It would be a terrible shame if you were to let that go to waste just because things don’t necessarily go your way.’ The old stallion turned rolled over to face the window opposite to where Clock Work stood. ‘Please excuse me, but I do get tired very easily these days… Unless there is anything else on your mind that you would like to share?

Clock Work stiffly shook his head, ‘N-no… That will be all, thank you.’ Carbon Skies didn’t say another word, so Clock Work decided that it was best for him to leave.

‘Next stop! Boarding at Oxerford station!’ Called out the guard, causing Clock Work to jolt himself awake. As he looked out the window, he could see that the train was already within the city limits. A determined glare was in his eyes.

‘Thank you sir,’ he muttered, ‘for everything you have done for me.’ Clock Work held closely to him a beaten leather notebook and thought to himself, ‘I have one final idea I would like to carry out… and I hope it will be enough to make both of you proud of me. You sir, and Bliss…’

Author's Note

The poem excerpt in this chapter is actually from the prelude to Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll.

Chapter 14: An Awkward Reunion

‘So was that when Clock Work made the Storyloom,’ asked Twist ‘and he made it here in Oxerford, to try and impress Rosy Bliss?’

‘That’s right!’ Cheerilee chirped. ‘Although he was an engineer who knew little about writing stories, he knew that it was something Bliss absolutely loved. So, he thought he might have been able to win her over by pushing his talents to create a machine that could write stories for her.’

‘Did he really make it all alone?’ asked another foal.

‘Well, almost all of it. He did however, have an assistant based in this city who did work alongside him while he built the machine. Clock Work got in touch with them when he found out Bliss moved to Oxerford. He wanted to be certain he could show Bliss the machine as soon as it was finished. In fact, Clock Work was so intent on this plan of his working, he even bought an engagement ring to propose to her with when he showed her the machine.’

Many of the foals exchanged perplexed looks among one another, and Scootaloo said, ‘Sounds like he got way ahead of himself.’

The little pegasus' remark made Cheerilee chuckle a little.

Suddenly, Sweetie Belle spoke up, her voice sounding increasingly excited with each question, ‘So did Clock Work manage to show Rosy Bliss the Storyloom? Did he propose to her? How did it go?’

Clock Work was not at all pleased to meet Witted Twist. Not in the slightest.

He had just moved in to his new workshop where he intended to spend his time in Oxerford. Shortly after he began to unpack the luggage he brought upstairs, Clock Work could faintly hear voices of a few Ponies from the building next door, on account of one of the workshop’s windows being left open before he moved in. Though it was a minor transgression, Clock Work brought it up with the landlord nonetheless.

At first, he paid no mind to the voices. To him, it was simple banter with nothing of his concern, until he heard someone from the house laugh. It was a mare’s voice.

In that brief moment, Clock Work’s life took a very surreal turn, as he stood in that room which felt so new and strange to him, just outside was a sound so… familiar.

He remembered a mare who laughed like that back in the mill. She often did so while she shared her stories with the little foals who worked there. Clock Work couldn’t believe it at first but then he was reminded of the main reason he moved to this city in the first place.

‘Rosy Bliss,’ Clock Work muttered, ‘she’s here!’ So he sprang up and rushed down the stairs and out of the building to next door. Clock Work was in such a rush he didn’t even think to close the front door behind him.

Rosy Bliss was indeed next door to Clock Work’s new workshop. However, it was not her home. She was just a guest. The house belonged to Witted Twist, who had invited her over alongside a few other Ponies, including the college dean and her husband. Brush Keen, another friend invited by Witted Twist, had just begun a discussion on some of Equestria’s contemporary painters when everyone in the room was alarmed to hear a sudden, loud noise. They were four knocks at the front door, each one done in rapid succession.

‘Were you expecting any more guests?’ said Brush Keen.

‘Not at all…’ Witted Twist replied, with a confused look as he glanced around the room. Everyone he invited was present. Just before he stepped out of the room, he turned back to his guests, ‘Do go on. I should be back very shortly.’ When Witted Twist opened the door, Clock Work stood before him, who quickly lowered his head upon seeing Witted Twist, his golden mane obstructing any possible eye contact.

‘Can I help you?’ asked Witted Twist.

‘Ah, yes sir… Excuse me sir but uhm…’ Clock Work was muttering, never raising his head, which only obscured his voice even more. He was never good when it came to talking to others.

‘Could you please speak up?’ Witted Twist smiled politely. However, Clock Work’s disjointed communication continued for another half minute. Witted Twist continued to smile but only thinly disguised his impatience. ‘For Celestia’s sake, what ever is the matter? I can’t hear you at all with all that mumbling!’ Even as Witted Twist spoke up, he never sounded aggressive but it still didn’t make things easier for Clock Work either.

‘Is everything alright, professor?’ Clock Work suddenly looked up, he could hear Rosy Bliss calling out from down the corridor.

‘My Rose!’ Clock Work said aloud as if gasping for air.

With an eyebrow raised, Witted Twist turned to Rosy Bliss, ‘So, he is friend of yours?’

As she walked towards the door, Bliss tried to think of the best words to answer that question. ‘Yes, but we’ve been rather distant lately…’

She gently placed a hoof onto one of Clock Work’s and offered him a polite greeting, ‘It’s such a surprise to see you Clock Work! What are you doing here in Oxerford?’ She then turned to Witted Twist ‘Professor, this is Clock Work. He used to work for my father back in Birminghoof.’

Witted Twist gave a slow nod, ‘Ah! I see. Well, would you like to come in, Clock Work? I could introduce to some other Ponies I have over.’

‘Oh not quite yet, professor,’ Rosy Bliss replied, ‘it’s been some time since we last saw each other and I would like to do some catching up, just between the two of us. We can join the rest of you very shortly afterwards. But for now, do return to your guests.’ Bliss’ voice came with a welcoming tone. However, as Witted Twist walked back down the hallway, she turned back to Clock Work with a more severe expression.

‘What are you doing here? Have you been following me?’ Rosy Bliss’ voice was quiet, yet very harsh. Clock Work knew full well that she was furious with him. But at least, he knew he would be honest in his reply.

‘Oh no, not at all, my Rose! I can assure you it is nothing like that.’

Please don’t call me that, Bliss thought to herself.

‘Although, I did know that you had moved to this city. I just happened to pick out the building next door to be my workshop while I work here.’ said Clock Work as he pointed to the very building standing beside Witted Twist's house.

Rosy Bliss seemed to calm down. She took a deep breath, ‘Well, I don’t actually live in this area. In fact, I actually live just out of town.’

‘My primary concern with being in Oxerford is to work on my latest project, for which I have managed to find an assistant who is based here. I can assure you, I have no intention of interfering with your time here.’

Rosy Bliss nodded, 'Thank you.'

‘Although,’ Clock Work continued ‘this project of mine is something that I had hoped I could show to you when it is done, as I believe it may possibly be of interest to you.’

She gave a somewhat perplexed look at Clock Work. Bliss stood silent for a minute, but then decided there was no harm in humouring the odd stallion so she settled for his request. ‘Very well, then. If you like, I can give you an address to write to. Let me know when this project of yours is finished. However, only write to me when you have finished. Do we have a deal?’

Clock Work most gleefully accepted. ‘Yes, of course! I truly believe you will like what it is I hope to have in store for you.’ He took the note Bliss gave him with the address written on it and walked off, calling out goodbye just before he returned inside his workshop building next door.

Rosy Bliss suddenly found herself amused as she realised she actually excitement from the anticipation.

Just what was it exactly that the young stallion have in mind?

Clock Work seemed to stride triumphantly back to his new home next door, paying no attention to the fact Rosy Bliss still stood outside looking at him. The truth was she found it rather charming. Bliss began to think it might be possible that Clock Work could really grow on her. However, the moment he returned inside and shut the door, Clock Work propped himself up with his back against it and let out a deep sigh and grumbled in resentment. Witted Twist was a stallion that was better mannered and better presented than Clock Work could ever imagine being, and with a love for literature that Rosy Bliss could get behind. Because of this, he earned far more respect and adoration from her in a week than Clock Work ever had in a year.

Oh, how he hated him for it…

Prologue

The city of Oxerford was a real sight to behold. Although not as impressive as Canterlot, this city was home to some truly magnificent buildings, many of them adorned with spectacular carvings. Such intricate masonry displayed a wide variety of flora and fauna. Stone ivy and other crawling plants formed curling patterns along the structures and within these curls resided the most incredible menagerie. There was one grand building in particular that managed to exemplify this imagery even further. That was the Royal Museum of Oxerford. Many creatures known to live in Equestria dwelled within the stonework, alongside more unusual forms of life that, as far as anyone knew, could have only existed within the realms of the imagination. A cow whose entire hind quarter was the tail of a fish, a dog-like beast with two bodies branching off from its bulky head, a snake crowned with the crest of a cockerel and an animal that somewhat resembled a lion but had barbs protruding from its back and a shaggy mane surrounding a face unlike any animal anyone has ever known. These strange creatures, existing among those more familiar, were said to represent what the museum stood for; a reverence to all that has been discovered and all that is yet to be discovered.

This was just a part of the vision of those Ponies who built this city – certainly the most beautiful part of it – and it completely dwarfed the little foals of Ponyville.

Cheerilee, the mulberry mare who was the foals’ teacher and supervisor for this school trip, stood aside for a moment and simply smiled, appreciating the children’s need to take in the amazement they were stricken by.

‘Okay class, now come along.’ Cheerilee called out to the foals, ‘I’ll need to make sure everypony’s present before we can start with our tour.’

Once Cheerilee made her rounds for the group, she led them in through the doorway. Although they were at a grand scale – more than twice the height of Cheerilee – the doors themselves were rather sombre in design compared to the rest of the exterior. The detailing of the doors was a far cry from the elaborate craftsmanship shown on the supporting pillars and outside walls. However, such a comparatively mundane element to the building’s design was easily glossed over as the foals didn’t seem to lose any sense of wonder as they walked in.

It seemed there was hardly any room not used to display artefacts of historic splendour. Like any good museum, each room – or series of rooms – was dedicated to a certain subject, categorised by time period, location, technology, cultural background or even some of these subjects, if not all of them, combined. The foals certainly had a feast for the eyes that day, one of such a diverse repertoire too. Exhibits ranged from history on the remnants of ancient Sumarean culture to the early years Equestria’s founding, from early agriculture to the founding of modern medicine, from the nomadic lifestyle of old tribes to the creation of the steam engine.

Kids being kids – or rather, foals being foals – Cheerilee faced some difficulty keeping them all in one place as they excitedly rushed from one room to the next, trying to in everything they could see all at once. There was however, one curiosity that succeeded in arresting the attention of every foal. It was in a large circular room that connected to three tall corridors, each one of them providing displays of old machinery from almost a century ago. The foals were capable enough to figure out that they were all about the first mills and factories of that time – relics from an industrial age – though it was more difficult for them to figure out exactly what they might have been needed for. The machine that stood just about central in the circular room, however, was impossible to figure out altogether.

The machine in question had a console – the control panel – that looked something like a market stall built around an over-sized typewriter, it’s keys were slightly inconsistent with each other in size. Beneath the console were two large pedals, to one side a bizarre looking canister fastened to the machine by its edge. Behind the keyboard was a chamber covered by a large grid, a seemingly random assortment of springs – stretched from top to bottom of the chamber’s space – could be seen through the grid’s squares. Out of the back of the chamber, was a large exhaust valve. The piping for the machine’s exhaust was awkward in its own right, turning to different directions and angles, the end of it pointing towards the wall rather than the ceiling. On the opposite side to the canister was a strange, frail looking tower, which was connected to the rest of machine via a few thick, curly wires. Like the main console, the tower had a canister fastened to one side of it as well. However, it was slightly larger and had a nozzle coming out of the top. Both canisters hung at about knee-level. You could look inside the tower too, through a porthole big enough to put your whole face against it when peeking through. Inside the tower was a small stool, which didn’t seem entirely stable to sit on, though it didn’t seem to matter when in such a confined space. Certainly not when it was locked shut. Precariously over the stool hung an odd cylinder and bowl that hung like a ceiling lamp. Smaller cylinders were stuck around it, all of them with wires that went all the way to the tower’s cramped ceiling. On the very top of this tower were two large funnels that faced opposite directions to each other in a fashion similar to a siren. Every other machine, or piece of one, in this area of the museum at least had some semblance as to what they were used for. The design on this thing however made little to no suggestion as to what function it could have possibly had.

Cheerilee could clearly see that all the foals were interested but at the same time confused as to what they were looking at. Many of them turned to her. The look on their faces gave them no need to ask aloud. In response, she simply gave that endearing smile she often had whenever there was a vital lesson to impart or a story to tell.

‘Alright, my little Ponies, I can see you are all very interested in this machine. But first, can any of you tell me what you think it might have been used for?’ The confusion among the foals only became even more apparent. They thought she was going to tell them! Still, some of them decided to hazard a guess.

‘Did it predict the weather?’

‘A giant typewriter…?’

‘…Can it read Ponies’ minds?’

‘A time machine!’

‘Is it from a cloud factory?’

They were all pretty certain their answer was never right the moment they shouted them out but Cheerilee just maintained her smile, ‘Those are all interesting ideas… but what this machine was actually made to do was make books.’ The little foal who called out typewriter turned to his friend beside him with a little smirk as if to say; ‘told you so!’

A white red-mane filly, named Twist, was a little confused by this and spoke up. ‘But Miss Cheerilee, I thought those machines we saw in the other room, the printing presses, were for making books. So is this one even older than the others?’

‘Why yes, Twist.’ Cheerilee’s voice was filled with praise, ‘Those printing presses were used to make books. However, this machine was actually made after them and not only that but this did more than just print books. This machine actually wrote stories from scratch so nopony else had to. It’s called a Storyloom.’

‘I never seen or heard of a machine that actually wrote books before’, mused Scootaloo, an orange, purple-haired Pegasus. She suddenly beamed as an idea entered her mind, ‘Does it still work?’

‘I’m sorry children, but you mustn’t touch it. This machine is strictly off limits.’ Although Scootaloo was the one who spoke out, Cheerilee directed this to the whole group. ‘This machine is the only one of its kind that exists to this day. There weren’t that many others like it before and it was said very few ever looked exactly the same. Unlike every other machine you see in these rooms that were assembled in a factory by several Ponies at once, the Storylooms were all made by one Pony who worked on them in his own home.’

Another filly named Apple Bloom, a friend of Scootaloo, walked up front to Cheerilee, ‘So who was this one Pony who built these machines. What happened to the rest of them?’

‘It is a long story but I’ll be happy to tell you if you all would like me to…’ The foals nodded patiently, something of a rarity to occur among all of them. ‘Well then, settle down children and get comfortable,’ Cheerilee gestured towards the benches that were near the edges of the room. Once they all managed to find a place to sit down, Cheerilee stood as central as she could and began to speak clear enough for all of them to hear. ‘This all started in the city of Birminghoof, where lived a young mare. Her name was Rosy Bliss…’

Chapter 6: A Daughter's Memories

‘That’s… just too sad…’ murmured one of the foals.

‘Yes… It certainly is’ said Cheerilee. There was a great deal of affection in her voice, as she shared grief with many of the foals this moment. ‘Tragically, plenty of other families around that time had experienced such loss.’

‘How come?’ Sweetie Belle asked, her voice was slightly choked by her sniffling.

‘Doctors back then just didn’t have the means to care for other Ponies who were as frail as Quillflower. For somepony like her, having a child is a very difficult thing to experience.’ Cheerilee had a way of being straightforward and matter-of-factly without sounding at all insensitive. This certainly made her suitable for teaching children.

She looked around the room, understanding that the foals needed time before they could continue on with the story.

A few minutes later, Apple Bloom spoke up, feeling timid about being the one to break the silence, ‘So what about Rosy Bliss? What was it like for her, growing up… without her mother?’

It was impossible for her to recall what Quillflower even looked like on her own. Even when she did see images of her mother, the old photographs that could be found around the house, Rosy Bliss was incapable of remembering what it was like to be held by her, or to hear her voice. Because of this, Quillflower appeared as nothing more than a mere shadow trapped in Rose’s past, something to be seen but never truly felt.

The next sixteen years hadn’t been at all easy for Carbon Skies. Clean Sweep had been a great help in taking care of Bliss when she was still a baby but as she turned five to become a young filly, Rosy Bliss was more insistent on being closer to her father. Carbon Skies found himself at a crisis. He knew full well that he couldn’t directly take care of Blight Mill and his child both at once.

However, solace was brought to him thanks to a dear friend of his, named Brunet Smoke. He, as well as a few other stallions, worked alongside Carbon Skies as a fellow supervisor for the Blight Mill. To the amazement of their peers, Brunet Smoke persuaded Carbon Skies to take a few years off without having to worry about the mill and leaving it to Brunet and the others to take care of it.

During the time off he had, Carbon Skies found delight in taking his little daughter to see the sights of the city. It had been the first in about five years he had ever gone anywhere in Birminghoof that wasn’t from home to Blight Mill.

On their first day out together, Carbon Skies had taken Rosy Bliss to the Equestrian Museum of Natural History and Science. Like any other foal, Bliss adored all the exhibits that covered the various animals of their world. Unlike many other foals, however, she seemed even more interested in the exhibits on world exploration.

Catching on to his daughter’s enthusiasm, Carbon Skies had promised Bliss that he would help her learn more about what she saw in the museum, how the world works and so much more. It was from that point Carbon Skies decided that he would have Bliss educated within their own home. Sure enough, he sought a teacher to provide Bliss private classes during the weekday, a unicorn mare named Inkwell.

Every weekday, Inkwell would visit the house from morning until late afternoon to hold classes for Rosy Bliss in the library. Together, they covered reading, writing, mathematics, geography, science and history as well as a few other subjects concerning knowledge of Equestria. Carbon Skies also attended class with his daughter, sometimes working alongside Inkwell in helping Bliss out with any subjects she found difficult. He knew he wasn’t as effective a teacher as Inkwell was but deep down, Carbon Skies knew he was mainly getting involved for his own benefit rather than Bliss. He had a chance for plenty of time away from Blight Mill and he wanted to use that time to be with the family he had left.

Rosy Bliss, while not entirely comfortable with sitting through her classes, was patient and reasonable enough to accept that she spent her weekdays being taught by Inkwell – and to a lesser extent, her father as well. She would have to wait for the weekend to spend time with her father in the city. So, when class was over, Bliss would spend the remainder of the day in the library, where she very quickly took advantage of the vast collection of books. This became an especially common means to pass the time upon turning ten when she and her father came to an agreement that it was as good a time as any for him to return to working for the mill.

Owing it to her home classes and personal reading sessions, Rosy Bliss became increasingly interested in literature. It was also shortly after her tenth birthday when she expressed her ambitions to become a novelist, as if following her mother’s footsteps. Carbon Skies was not in the least bit surprised to hear this and was even able to restore some happiness as he felt his heart well up with pride. However, the emotions he felt that moment also stung his heart a little, as he wasn’t entirely sure to what extent Bliss might become like her own mother.

Neither was he aware that Bliss had discovered the manuscript he had locked in his desk drawer a couple of weeks beforehand.

It was during one of her leisurely reading sessions after class finished when Bliss found herself compelled to search her father’s desk. She couldn’t figure it out at all what it was that drove her to such curiosity. All of a sudden, she found herself unable to go on reading the book that she was more than halfway through finishing. Idleness struck her and she looked around the library, from one wall to another, before she finally focused her gaze onto the desk. Searching through it seemed to be the only thing that could sate her idleness.

The top of the desk was covered with sheets littered with numbers, information on records for machinery and the mill’s inventory. The first few drawers that she opened contained more or less the same, as Bliss had expected; assorted pages on old records and factory inventory, alongside sketches and schematics for machinery that were even older. This hardly fascinated Rosy Bliss but what did catch her interest was how one of the lower desk drawers seemed to be locked. She continued to search the desk until she eventually discovered, under the panel of one of the drawers, concealed a small key which fit for the locked drawer. When Bliss successfully unlocked the drawer and opened it, her curiosity peaked when she found that it contained a large bound pile of papers that seemed so strange to her and yet, at the same time, familiar. Bliss carefully lifted the papers out of the drawer as if she were handling an ancient relic. It was then she read the cover page:

The Incredible Adventures of Little Rose

by Quillflower

‘That’s my mother’s name!’, Rosy Bliss thought to herself as she quickly cupped a hoof over her mouth, as if she might have spoken aloud. She slowly looked back to the door to see if anyone was approaching the library before she gently slid the manuscript back into the drawer and locked it away. The drawer’s key was also put back in its original place and Bliss even made sure that she placed the papers over the hidden compartment in the right order.

It wasn’t until the next day, once more after class, when Bliss took out the manuscript again and began to read it. Somehow, as she carried on reading, she could feel something coming back to her. Memories that seemed impossible for her to remember…

The room was very dark but she could recognise it to be her parents’ bedroom. The only effective light source present came from a candle on one of the bedside tables. From it, Bliss could see her mother lying in bed and her father sitting closely beside her, both appeared through shapes of black and yellow that steadily shifted as the candlelight flickered. Carbon Skies was leaning in even closer to Quillflower as she was trying to speak.

‘A story… could… could you… read… a story? For me?’

That was what she said. However, Bliss found it impossible to hear, her mother’s voice was so faint. Bliss was close to the door, being cradled in one forehoof by somepony. When she looked up, she recognised it to be the housemaid, Clean Sweep. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead all that came out was an incoherent but slight and gentle murmuring.

Carbon Skies approached the door and walked out of the room. Every other Pony remained by the door and saw Carbon Skies return a few moments later, with a large pile of papers. Bliss paid no notice to the somewhat confused expressions on the other Ponies’ faces. All she cared about in that brief moment was her own awestruck curiosity. She couldn’t have the slightest idea what it was her father had brought in but it made her eyes shimmer like precious stones from the sight of it. The contrast of darkness and candlelight gave the manuscript what looked to Bliss like a faint golden glow.

She was so entranced she didn’t even notice both her parents in tears.

Suddenly, she found herself being brought closer to the bed. As she passed her father holding the manuscript, Bliss held out her small hooves hoping that she could touch it. Briefly, she felt disappointment when she was unable to reach it but this quickly gave way to contentment when she saw that Clean Sweep had passed her back to her mother. Quillflower tried to sit herself as upright as she could against the bedhead and wrapped her forehooves around the little foal so that Bliss’ head leaned against her mother’s chest. From there, the candlelight revealed the title on the very first page of the manuscript: The Incredible Adventures of Little Rose.

Rosy Bliss lay there content in her mother’s embrace, soothed by Carbon Skies’ voice and Quillflower’s heartbeat.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum…

‘The very first thing Little Rose knew for certain when she woke up was that she was alone…’

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum…

‘…As she climbed up the mountain to reach the highest formation, it became clear to her that she was stranded on an island. She was without her family and trapped in a place she didn’t recognise. The moment strangely felt disheartening, yet at the same time thrilling…’

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum…

‘…Little Rose journeyed deeper into the cave, that was deep within the island’s forest. She was surrounded only by a cold black void, yet Little Rose felt compelled to continue. Suddenly, she saw a strange light. Little Rose ran towards it until she entered a large chamber. It was covered with magnificent pale blue crystals that all shimmered. That light must have been coming in from somewhere. Little Rose only had to look just ahead of her to see what the source was…’

Ba-dum, ba-dum……… ba-dum ba-dum………

‘…There stood a magnificent stag, it’s entire body glowed with the crystalline light. ”Do not lose hope, dear child!” it called out. “I know of your pain. I know that you are far away from home but I can help you.” Slowly, the stag approached Little Rose, who backed away a little, uncertain at first. But then she chose to stand still and the stag lightly pressed its nose against her forehead and blinding white light gleamed so brightly it swallowed the cave chamber whole…’

Ba-dum, ba-dum……… ba-dum, ba-dum………

‘…Little Rose stood still at the beach for only a few minutes, yet it felt like days. The stag’s words echoed in her mind, “With my light, you shall be able to read the whole world like a map just before you. Many blessings, dear child and may you always find your way.” For the first time since she awoke on this island, her once lost and burdened thoughts now found purpose. The sun was setting and it would be dark soon. Tomorrow however, she would prepare to make her way back home…’

Ba-dum… ba-dum……… ba-dum… ba-dum………

‘…Even with the shining stag’s gift leading the way for her, the two weeks at sea had not been easy for Little Rose. She was running dangerously low on what little supplies she managed to store on her raft, even though she had been going through them sparingly. There was no other option but to embark for the nearest land and restock before she could continue her journey. Little Rose found the white sandy beach that lined the very edge of a magnificent emerald jungle. The jungle’s name rung in her head: Quetzal. Despite never hearing of the name before, the stag’s gift made it feet strangely familiar. Surely, curiosity would seize her. Little Rose slowly approached the trees and disappeared into the forest vegetation. It would be many days before she would be ready to resume her journey…’

Ba-dum… ba-dum……… ba-dum… ba-dum………

‘…The journey home seemed like it would never end. Everywhere Little Rose stopped to gather new supplies, she would be compelled to find whatever there was to see. Every island, every country was a path to a new frontier, from the glowing majesty of Quetzal’s jungles to the harsh beauty of the Yara-Ma Desert. She also encountered civilisations, exotic like the Ponies of Saddle Arabia and inhabitants of the Griffon Kingdom, or curious and wild like the Diamond Dogs that inhabited caverns throughout the world. This time however, she knew this would be her last stop. Home…’

Ba-dum………… ba-dum………… ba-dum…………

‘…Darkness was forming in the sky. The clouds roared like an enraged lion. The sea’s waves grew more turbulent and harsh flashes of light could be seen in the distance. A storm was coming. “No. Not now, please!” Little Rose cried out loud, as if to plead to the very world itself, knowing that she was too close to let it end here. All this was only made worse. Little Rose swore she could hear a distinct growl coming through the water. However, it wasn’t the rumble of the ever-increasing waves. It sounded like ocean itself was hungry. When she looked over the edge of her raft, the flashes of lightning revealed an enormous silhouette. Four large fins ran along the sides of a body wide as a battleship and longer than any whale. When the creature’s head rose through the surface, Little Rose’s heart sank. She recognised the large gaping jaws – above them were small red eyes that seemed to glow like lighthouses in the storm darkened sky – from an image in the old book she found in the library back in Saddle Arabia. She would have given anything now for that book to be the only instance she ever saw it. She remembered the single word written underneath the image. The name of the monster now before her: Leviathan. Little Rose's heart sank with fear…’

Ba-dum…………………… ba-dum……………………

‘…Wearily, Little Rose restored her strength to stand up. She was struggling as if she had risen from a deep slumber, not unlike the first time she awoke on the island. Sunlight flooded her sight, the blinding sensation felt welcoming. It meant that the worst had come to pass. As Little Rose looked onward, tears streamed down her face not from the sunlight’s sting but from relief as she saw what lay before her. There stood the familiar port town she looked to in what seemed years ago. Finally, she made it home…’

………………………………………………………

The story still went on but the little foal had fallen asleep, as still as her mother’s heart.

Rosy Bliss had been in her chair for hours. All the story’s words had flooded into her mind, yet she hadn’t even turned beyond the first page. Finally, she placed the manuscript onto the desk and sat back in the chair, her head sunk. Lightly, she pressed to her chest as the tears streamed down her face.