MLP Trinity

After countless years of engineering, it was time to test my creation: metal wings. I could live out my lifelong dream of flight! A gentle breeze could be felt at the cliff top on which I stood. I was surveying the grass in front of me for a clear takeoff path.

While calculating the drop, I noticed somepony near the cliff base look up at me. She didn't know it, but she was about to witness history in the making.

I ran to edge, spread my metal wings, and jumped. The sickening sound of tearing synthetic fibers filled the air. My wings folded backwards, and I began to plummet.

All I could hear past the rushing air was a mare hollering at the top of her lungs.

I expected to land harshly, dreading the hospital bill, yet instead I felt myself decelerate. I felt like I was cradled in somepony's hooves as my world faded to black.

I slowly awoke, hearing a voice that seemed out of breath.

"What were you thinking?!" shouted the voice. I opened my eyes, and was greeted by two ice blue equals.

"I was thinking that I could make a revolution in aviation technology, you?" I responded.

"Not important, look, are you okay?"

"Never better, but, why?"

She unfolded her paper-white wings and I realized that the bystanding Pegasus had saved me.

"I guess I really owe you one, Miss... "

"Ink Scribe. I'm trying to land a career as a novelist. You? "

"Metal Wing. Aviation engineer, mechanic and hopefully, one day, pioneer. "

Her eyes lit up under the brim of her fedora." A mechanic, huh? You said you owe me one, right? Well I think I know what you can do for me."

"You're free to follow me back to my shop; I'm making some repairs anyway," I offered, hauling the pile of what was left of my prototype wings.

Ink Scribe agreed, and we began trotting the familiar path.

Not a minute after we left, my unexpected client decided to strike up some conversation. "Okay, just wondering, WHY did you decide to go cliff diving without a parachute?"

"I've been working on this prototype, and I needed to test it out," was my response.

"That's a little extreme don't you think?" She chuckled "Aren't you afraid you might break something?"

She didn't know it, but this writer-to-be just brought up a very touchy topic. "Yeah, about that..." I groaned

Instantly, her expression cringed "Oh, I take it breakage a sensitive subject?"

Instead of avoiding it, I decided to fill Ink in. "No, it's that 'scared' part. See, I have this condition where apparently I don't understand or perceive 'fear' or much related to it. Because of this, I've done my best to avoid the idea of 'fear' entirely."

Most ponies try running off once I tell them that, but Ink looked relatively unmoved by the explanation. "Okay, I'll stay off the subject then," she stated quickly, as if avoiding any further discussion.

I couldn't help but ask. "Wait, you're not put off by my condition?"

"Everypony's got something to make them unique," she exclaimed with an air of discomfort.

An awkward silence led the way for what little distance remained.

We then arrived at the modest cinder-block-and-steel metal shop that I call home.

"You work here?" Ink questioned.

"Sure do, I've been living and working here for years, as a matter of fact. I remember when I first got this place, I had-"

"I feel sorry for you," Ink interrupted.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, I feel bad that you have to work, let alone live, in as drab a place as this."

Ouch. I hid my annoyance as best I could and asked, "So then, Ms.Scribe,what can I do for you?"

"Oh, right. I've been trying to find a way to properly hold a quill. Have you got anything like that?"

"What, like a stand or a pen holder?"

"Not quite, more like something that will let me hold it while I'm writing with it; kinda like that thing over there!"

She pointed to a contraption I had inherited when first taking ownership of the shop.

"A hoof-held vice?" I asked

"Yeah, but one that can hold a quill pen."

"I thought they already made those for handicapped foals... "

"I know. As a matter of fact, I used one through my entire school career. The only problem is that they don't make any for full-grown ponies. That in mind, would it be possible for you to make one in my size?"

"Well, I guess I could, but I'd need another one of these vices to work off of. Doesn't help that I haven't found any in stock since I got this place. Unless you know where I could find one, I can't help you."

"No, but I know somepony who may be able to help... "

I figured I could trust Ink, she did just save my life, so I packed the vice along with some scrap metal and let her lead the way to this ‘somepony’ who could help. The first few minutes walking over gave me some time to think of why my prototype failed. Everything seemed to be working, I figured I must've missed something.

Since nothing was coming to mind, I decided to satisfy another curiosity. "So, why do you want me to make you an up-sized writing trainer?"

She answered, "That's actually a pretty odd story. See when I was in school I was constantly made fun of. Almost everypony teased me for wanting to be a writer. I refused to let them get to me, and joined a writing class. Problem was, I had a lot of trouble writing, as I couldn't control my quill while holding it. Because I was having so much trouble I was eventually recommended for a writing assist. I wasn't keen on the idea at first. I figured that I would be insulted, called a freak just for having something artificial clamped to my ankle. But when I wrote with it and saw what I was capable of, those worries melted away. That was the exact moment I knew I was going to be a writer."

"Until you grew out of the tool, I take it?"

"Yeah, ever since, I've only managed to ever write one rough draft, and to be frank, even I can't decipher what I wrote. The new writing assist should fix that problem!

Seeing how happy Ink was about getting this writing instrument, the project felt much more personal. I actually got a bit choked up. I started thinking about what I could do to make this tool better suited to writing. I was considering how I could improve the design when Ink spoke up, "Alright, here we are!"

I honestly didn't expect such a nice place to be the residence of somepony who would know how to reproduce a hoof-held vice. "How does a metalsmith earn enough pieces to afford a place like this?!"

"I never said he was a metalsmith," Ink retorted, while knocking on the gargantuan front door, "Obsidian? Are you there? It's Ink."

"Just a moment!" a fairly deep voice responded.

The door was cast open, and a dark-haired, white-maned unicorn, clothed in blue robes arrived.

"Hi Ink, what brings you here?" Obsidian asked.

"I need you to transmute something for a friend of mine."

"A friend?! Really?!... " he looked past Ink, spotting me."Um, hello. Please, come in."

He seemed a bit odd and definitely more than a little nervous, but I didn't want to make assumptions.

"Excellent! Metal, you have the scrap metal and the hoof-held thing right?" Ink asked

I caught myself staring at Obsidian, and the staff he had tied to his back. "Huh? Oh, yeah, it's right here." I placed the vice and the scrap metal down on the floor, "I need to duplicate this in a form large enough to fit your friend's hoof."

"Hmm... Okay, I think I can do that. Give me a moment to set things up... " Obsidian assured us. Ink and I moved back as the unicorn separated the scrap from the vice. He conjured the staff from his back, and took a deep breath. The staff suddenly took on a vibrant blue glow, then shot a burst of blinding white light at the pile of scrap metal.

The light faded, and on the floor where the scrap metal used to be was a perfectly recreated version of a previous wing design, where the scrap metal came from.

I looked at Ink first, and she looked concerned. The odd thing was that she was looking in Obsidian's direction, not at the new wing structure on the floor. I looked at Obsidian and he seemed devastated, "How?" he whispered aloud, as his legs collapsed beneath him, "How could I..." his voice trailed off to a murmur.

"Wow, that's exactly how it was when I first built it, better even! Nice work there!" I complimented, hoping to mend the obvious dismay he was feeling.

"No", Obsidian whispered, "It's-" he was back down to mumbling.

"Didn't quite catch that, what did you say?"

"IT'S A FAILURE! " Obsidian erupted.

Ink screamed and ran out of the room. I stayed put unable to take my eyes off the event unfolding before me. Obsidian started shouting wildly, his eyes now glowing a bright white.

At least then I knew why he was so surprised about Ink having a friend over, and why she ran from the room. In his outrage Obsidian began casting spells, forming a cloud in front of him. Lightning shot from the nebulous creation, violently striking the wing structure that lay beneath. I needed to do something, and fast! "Obsidian, settle down! You'll only get us hurt!" I called out.

No response from Obsidian. His tantrum was in full swing. I ducked down, getting as low as I could, ensuring the wings would serve as some sort of lightning rod. I shouted at him to stop, but he still wouldn’t hear me. “Obsidian! Calm down!”

Nothing. I crawled my way back behind him, buying time to think. I figured reasoning and assertion failed, so my next option was to try and comfort him. Determined to end this, I gently placed my hoof on his back, and whispered, "Obsidian... Just calm down, relax, it's alright. "

He slowly stopped shouting, as I repeated this mantra. It seemed that he was beginning to come back to his senses, and the spell he was casting faded.

Obsidian began apologizing profusely, as Ink poked her head inside. "Everything okay?" she asked, an unnatural quiver in her voice.

"Yeah, I think so." I responded.

"How's Obsidian?" she asked, as she walked into the room.

"I'm alright,” Obsidian stuttered, "Quite the brave friend you've got there."

"Wait, Metal, you not only survived one of Obsidian 's tantrums, but managed to stop it?" Ink asked.

"It wasn't too bad, though the impromptu light show complicated things," I responded. Obsidian hung his head in shame.

"So, why didn't you run off?" Obsidian asked

"Well, it’s like this... " I told him about my condition and all of the trouble it's caused me over the years.

"Intriguing, I didn't even know there was a condition like that," Obsidian said. "I just wish I could make up for what I did, just then."

I pondered for a second. He was indeed dangerous, but he seemed lonely, and he was a dear friend of Ink’s.

"I could use some friends. After all, we seem to make a pretty good team."

"I think that we could stick together. I already know Obsidian, and you still owe me a writing utensil," Ink stated.

"It would be great to have you with us, Metal," Obsidian added

"So, Obsidian, why don't you try that transmutation again? And if it goes wrong, we just try again. Um, but without lightning please," Ink suggested.

"Right!" Obsidian responded, as he began to clear space once again.

Ink and I took two steps back. "Alright, just relax and focus, and turn the wing model into a vice," Ink instructed.

"You got it. Here we go," Obsidian reassured.

He lifted his staff high into the air, causing the inferior metal wings to glow. A bright, white light show of sorcery took place, and when it ended, a perfect copy of the vice lay on the floor.

"It's perfect..." Ink squeaked in delight.

"An exact copy... " I followed up.

"Well, then... I guess that worked," Obsidian concluded

It was then that I knew, as all three of us knew at that same moment, that this was the start of a beautiful friendship.