The Exegesis of Frozen Waters

by HolyJunkie

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Other, Adventure, Tragedy, Princess Celestia, Alternate Universe, Princess Luna, Gore, Original Character, Trixie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 36081

A first-hand account of Equestrian history can be scary to those who maintain the utopia.

Silver Screen is a writer for a studio based in Trottingham. He lives a pretty decent life, writing semi-decent scripts to relatively successful films. Unfortunately, he has the desire to go above and beyond with his writing; something his producer doesn't seem to approve of.

When his mother passes away, he is given the entirety of their library. Within the depths of his childhood sanctuary, he finds a tome comprised of thousands of pages.

The tome contains a first-hand account of Equestrian history spanning beyond even Princess Celestia's mother. Within the pages, Silver finds inspiration.

Many fanon liberties have been taken in the writing of this trite- I mean, masterpiece. You have been warned.

Published 2012-05-30 09:04:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-30 09:04:02 UTC

Chapter 1

[PAGE 0003 - [CHAPTER 1]

I am Frozen Waters of the family Waters. I was born to Muddy and Fresh Waters, farmer educators of the Earth Pony tribe. My siblings are my older sister Ocean and my younger brother Salt.

You must realise that times were far different from before Celestia and her sister came along to manage harmony across the land, even after we had all united. You, dear reader, would already know of the annual productions across Equestria. That play called "Birth of Equestria."

I was born in a log cabin... no really, I was. I remember one of the council ponies of the Unicorn division helped with the delivery. That's what my mother said when I was nine.

My parents were among the ponies depicted in that play you all love to watch. Mum was bearing me as the second child when the three leaders argued over the horrendous weather. Ocean and Dad worked hard to keep Mum well enough so I could develop.

A few months after the blizzards were pushed away by that flaming heart that today hangs above Canterlot, I arrived to begin my life.

Everypony in my community called me the most adorable little thing. That's pretty excellent, you would think. Unfortunately, the magic of that compliment vanishes when you realise that they all say the same thing regarding any newborn that isn't an ugly hell-spawn.

I knew two of those over my lifetime. One made up for it with an excellent personality, the other was a major flankhole who resented the ugliness and did nothing to make up for it. There's a lesson to be learned there somewhere, I guess. I didn't turn out that shabby myself, I'll admit. Today, I've got battle scars everywhere, but nothing terribly deteriorating.

Yes, battle scars. Equestria wasn't all peaceful after the end of the public's most favoured screenplay.

Silver's apartment was that of a minimalist's. The bare basics sat within, rarely disturbed. The kitchen resembled a show room in a hardware store. The only furniture in the living room was a small screen set, a film reel projector, a typewriter, and a few cabinets.

The writer gently pulled one cabinet drawer open and sifted through an assortment of circular cases. From one labeled "THE LAST EARTH PONY", Silver produced a thick reel of three quarter-inch film tape.

After fastening the projector system together for a proper presentation, Silver sat on his low sofa and watched his proudest film displayed on a featureless white wall. Rather, it was his boss' proudest film; The screenplay was trite, yet ponies praised its originality. Silver was regardless thankful that the film's immense success in the theatres and in the Broncos landed even him with the bits and prestige that got him the rather excellent apartment and all the equipment within.

He had bought the projector out of the theatre he went to as a colt, whether it was to watch a film or to work on the devices within. Aside from screenplay writing, Silver fancied himself a good pony to call when a projector needs to be fixed. Unfortunately, chances like that faded when the new digital projectors came out. He didn't miss it; he was a born writer.

The theatre still ran, along the north-west corner of Trottingham's main street. Silver still frequented it for the sake of friendships made there.

The door knocked in a fashion lacking urgency. Silver called for the guest to enter as he turned his head. Nothing happened, influencing Silver to call once more. Still, there was no response. The pony mumbled something random and rose from his sofa once more.

As the projector played The Last Earth Pony, Silver pulled his apartment door open and glanced down both ends of the third floor hallway. There was no pony in either direction aside from the janitor bringing a window to a flawless crystal clarity.

On the ground, where the playwright's door would stand over when closed, was an envelope. "Ah, of course," he muttered, wondering why the unknown mailpony who delivered it didn't simply drop it into his apartment's official mail box.

The unicorn playwright peeled the envelope open through his magic, and found it was from a pony he had not heard from in years: his mum's butler.

Silver's mum passed away.

The suburbs of Manehattan were among the most luxurious next to Canterlot's average spire. Rich businessponies, not artists, lived there.

"Cripes," Silver felt a sudden sharp pain of an untwisted knot as he stretched. He descended from the upper bunk of a passenger car; the same train he first entered over twenty-four hours ago. Trottingham was a rather long ways away from Manehattan. The playwright envied those speedy pegasi on occasion.

"Manehattan Central Station, next stop!" A usher pony announced. A few minutes later, Silver stepped out of the station with a seemingly empty set of saddlebags. He only packed necessary bits and the most basic of writing gear. He never left home without a quill, ink, and paper. Who knew when inspiration appeared?

"Hey Silv," came a voice the playwright hadn't heard in over a year. A gold-maned unicorn approached Silver. Both ponies smiled.

"Hey Gold," Silver responded to his brother- who also wore an indigo hide. Aside from Silver's wide-brimmed hat and silver mane, both could be considered twins to the truly colour-blind. Both exchanged a brotherly hug.

"How's work?" Gold asked.

"Like usual," Silver replied.

"Sydney rejected another one of your scripts, eh?" Gold teased.

Sydney... that fat, pompous pony. Silver didn't blame the guy for playing it safe. By all means, a film studio is still a business. "Well, he did accept one of my trite stories." The younger brother replied.

"Hopefully it's better than The Last Earth Pony," Gold commented. It was no secret to Equestria that Silver's brother didn't like The Last Earth Pony. The reviews the older brother wrote are the more well-known in the entire industry.

Silver didn't respond to that rather harsh, yet expected quip. Still, the playwright didn't want to colour his older brother's opinion on something that hadn't even been through pre-production yet.

"At least The Last Earth Pony did land me with enough bits to last me a while." Silver retorted. "How's work yourself?"

Gold laughed at the retort, then answered, "Excellent as always. There are a few ponies I need to meet with this week to elaborate on one of my recent reviews."

Silver smiled, "The Paradise?"

Gold cringed at the mention of the film. "Luna's Socks almighty was that schlock boring."

Silver nodded, knowing exactly what his brother meant. The brothers finally decided- thanks to the vocal concerns of an annoyed citizen- to move their flanks out of the station. Gold called for a carriage, and the two unicorns hopped on. Instructions and bits were given, and the ponies were on their way to the suburbs of Manehattan.

"So yeah, mum's gone." Gold said after the carriage started moving.

"That was sudden," Silver replied with a turn.

"What?" Gold asked, "My mentioning it, or that it happened at all?"

Silver blanked out for a split second before replying, "Both."

Gold nodded and flattened his lips. "Yeah. Last time, she was fit as a fiddle."

"Did you seriously say that?" Silver asked. It was his turn to cringe.

Gold shrugged, "Well, sometimes a trite phrase is what's needed."

Silence filled the carriage for a few seconds. Then the elder brother asked, "What was your other script about? The one Sydney rejected?"

"Well, I've seen Syd in worse moods," Silver elaborated, "It was about a single family stallion with two kids who got caught up in a smuggling operation for Gryphons. It all took place in this large castle full of wicked beasts. Along the way, he meets with a nicer Gryphon, who was a monster hunter. It would be centered around the theme of "The now, or the future" kind of decisions."

"The Gryphon a love interest?" Gold asked.

Silver nodded, then paused as if he just reached an epiphany. "Oh jeez."

"Yeah, that's probably why Syd hated it," Gold chuckled.

"Yeah, Gryphon enemies in Earth Pony, Gryphon enemies in The Wonderbolt," Silver muttered, "Countless others where Gryphons aren't shown in that keen a light. I should've seen that coming!"

The brothers laughed; It was the only thing they could do. Today wasn't that promising a day to begin with.

"How's everyone else aside from Syd?"

"The crew's working on pre-production for the latest project," Silver replied, "Drawing up plans for sets, costumes, the works. You know the process. How about the other critics?"

"They're thinking of moving the location for the next Broncos," Gold said, "Well, I can't really disclose any more. It's not even confirmed, and the paparazzi are everywhere these days."

"Any reason why?" Silver asked, "Canterlot's Amphitheatre is the best in Equestria. Why would they move from there?"

"That's also not to be disclosed, sorry bro."

Silver waved off the apology. Location of the Broncos didn't matter to him; he only cared to one day be nominated for one through his efforts. A Best Screenplay under his mane would make him a desirable scriptwriter in the industry. As he was, he was merely that pony who was Gold's brother.

"I had this idea for a street magician, though," Silver commented, "Not that interesting, really. It's a street magician who's trying to deliver a perfect illusion."

"A perfect illusion?"

"Yeah, as in magically imbed fake memories, or something beyond smoke and mirrors. Not the physical magic we all can use- I mean the kind that fools your mind."

"Sounds like something that would need a lot of exposition," Gold quipped.

"Yeah, I need to figure out something."

The carriage slowed to a halt. Gold and Silver looked out of their respective windows.

The massive barn-shaped manor was among the most expensive-looking pieces of real estate in the entire Manehattan suburbs. The indigo brothers hopped out of their carriage, paid the gentlecolts who transported them, and approached the manor gate.

"Welcome home, Gold and Silver," announced a well-groomed tuxedo-clad pony who was well past his prime, "It's good to see you both again."

"Likewise, Chamberlain," Gold replied for the both of them. "I'd have preferred it under pleasant circumstances."

"Indeed," the butler replied, "Your sisters are inside already. This way."

Chamberlain led Gold and Silver beyond the gate and into the manor. Within was a massive lobby with a central staircase and multiple gold-trimmed doors on nearly every side that led to many of the rooms within the building. The butler led the brothers into a side room on the second floor, where two mares sat, making small talk with a lawyer holding what Silver figured to be the will.

The siblings all greeted each other with hugs all around. Silver got reacquainted with his sisters Platinum and Ruby. Both worked for the Baltimare Fashion Press, the playwright knew. He just wasn't sure what exactly the sisters did.

"So the will reading is being done already?" Silver asked, "Isn't the funeral supposed to come first?"

"You missed it," Ruby replied, "It was yesterday."

"Oh," Silver uttered. He felt a wash of shame over his hide. Verily, it was the pleasant kind of shame, and not at all the kind that makes a pony feel bad for even mentioning what warranted the response at all.

"We took a flight," Platinum said. "You should have as well. The train does take a while from Trottingham."

"What about you?" Silver asked Gold.

"I was waiting for you at the station," The elder brother replied.

Well that's peachy, Silver thought, way to be a black sheep... did I seriously just use the black sheep metaphor? Gah!

"Whenever you're ready, fillies and gentlecolts," the lawyer said.

"As you will, Chaser," Platinum said in that posh voice of her's. Silver pondered if his elder sister forced that voice to be similar to the typical performance of Princess Platinum. Would that also pose an identity issue?

And Ruby, sweet Ruby. Named after her grandmother simply because her hide was a bold burgundy instead of indigo like the others.

Silver wondered why he was thinking of these sorts of things. These rather unfair, yet tragically accurate descriptions of his own sisters. His rich cat of a mother's will was being read at the moment. That's pretty much the most important thing happening in the entire neighborhood right now.

He listened, as did his siblings. It sounded rather simple. The manor itself was being donated to the Architect's Society of Equestria, which will keep Chamberlain employed as the keeper of the building when architects aren't around.

The money was donated to a charity, on request from the father. Silver couldn't un-remember the multiple times his father repeated how he earned every last bit that went into that house, and he'll be damned if his children didn't get the opportunity to do the same.

Such a mindset worked out for all of them, fortunately. All of them are well off, all things considered. Gold was a rather notorious, yet intelligent critic for the Equestrian Journal, Platinum and Ruby worked for the Baltimare Fashion Press... as something...

Silver wrote scripts. It's what he loves to do, and it's what got him his cutie mark, but he had the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that his pa wanted him to be something better.

"To my eldest son, Golden Pen, I leave every content of your father's workshop. Bronze and I remembered that the only time you shut your trap about how something sucks is whenever you're tinkering with Celestia-knows-what," The lawyer paused as he let Gold chuckle, "That's what it says,"

"I know," Gold giggled through the suddenly present tears. Silver assumed that this rush of a last message from mum became very saddening.

The lawyer continued. Ruby and Platinum basically got everything else, especially the wardrobe- which was technically donated to the Baltimare Fashion Press. The sisters were fortunate enough to maintain a reliable contact with their mother, unlike the brothers. It came as no surprise to the males that they'd get the proverbial short end. Although Gold really loved being in that workshop.

"And lastly, to my talented son, Silver Screen. I leave to you, the entirety of our library. I honestly have no idea where you'd be able to store the sheer number of books. Last I heard, you were living in a crap apartment still working for that fat one. Tell him that he'd better give you a raise for all the work you do, giving his ultimately trite movies a foundation. Just once, I'd like to see a nice Gryphon... Oh Luna, it appears Gold rubbed off on me a second."

Silver smiled as he twiddled his hooves awkwardly, even though his siblings knew he loved books more than ponies. It was hard to take a compliment like that. The siblings, however, laughed.

"Anything that hadn't been mentioned will have their fates decided by mine and Bronze's ever-loyal employee and friend, Chamberlain," The lawyer Chaser paused for dramatic effect, "Jade."

Silver sighed. The pacing was off in that pause. The playwright wasn't the only one, he heard his brother sigh in exactly the same way. This wasn't the kind of mood to have during a will reading, but that's what multiple years of establishing a personal style does.

(Sorry, Author's note: I'm getting the feeling this is starting to sound like a self-insert fic.)

Chaser packed up and shook the hooves of the four siblings before taking his leave. Chamberlain stepped forward and said, "If you need help moving your inheritance to wherever you need it, Jade asked me to help."

They all thanked the butler, and split off in their respective directions throughout the manor.

Chapter 2

[PAGE 0099 - CHAPTER 2]

Young, fearless, lacking in context, blood like wildfire, reckless, if not insecure, polarizing, schizophrenic. How many ways can I describe a youth? I count eight ways in the previous sentence. What do you have? Do you have a child who is perfectly well-mannered? A properly-dressed little filly in a custom dress by a local fashionista? A well-mannered colt in a suit he'd outgrow within a month?

Breaking news, number one parent: You've officially raised a robot. I certainly prefer that over a compete flankhole, but what do I know? I'm only older than Celestia's mum.

It was like the arrival of a god, probably because it WAS the arrival of a god. Galaxia, was her name. I remember my mum's good friend's instructor, Starswirl the Bearded, made a big deal about it. Almost as much as he said the old windego threat was a big deal. He was right about those icy pricks, anyway. Perhaps this would be a bad thing as well.

Spoiler alert, dear reader! It was damn near the best thing imaginable! Queen Galaxia was a combination of all three tribes, basically a personification of that Flame of Harmony. She ruled with an iron fist, but that fist was the kind of iron that was always warm to the touch, never cold, never hard whenever it moves. All we needed to do was maintain the warmth by keeping that fire alive. It was like that heart of fire was her life force or something.

She lived because of that fire, I guessed. She was therefore immortal. No chance in that hellhole we came from did we want to bring back the windegos.

Now what did this have to do with my previous description of children? Well, Galaxia had parenting down right. There was an iron fist, sure. There was, however, opportunity to develop your own identity. Equestria wasn't a place where you would be forced to do something you truly didn't like. Cutie marks work that way, you know? Honestly, I can't imagine a world without cutie marks, where a discovered talent isn't magically enhanced through the real discovery of said talent.

After the Rhinos, I could. Thanks to them, I always have that niggling feeling in the back of my head that makes me feel depressed every time I see a joyful foal wasting away by having fun. They struck, and Queen Galaxia didn't want this precious land ruined by the society without Cutie marks. She just got the throne, after all.

I believe I was about 19 by the time I joined the ragtag coordinated defense against the brutes. I was like the others, reckless, oblivious, ignorant, every five dollar word I mentioned already, and more. We learned to hone the magic in us all to become effective fighters. Earth Ponies- like myself- became strongponies and suppliers of food. Pegasi became the speedy skirmishers that whittled down the enemy's strength. The Unicorns were the real powerhorses. By combining the efforts of multiple unicorns, vastly powerful magic was possible.

Starswirl the Bearded by himself was a sight to behold. Imagine him with his five best students serving as amplifiers.

Yeah, those Rhinos almost feared that pony... almost.

I can't really describe the spectacle that was the storms of fire that engulfed entire platoons of rhinos... probably because as the war went on, I wondered if those rhinos had any family back home. I wondered what exactly they were trying to accomplish by attacking us. I wondered why this was happening at all.

A certain legend named Kurgan Indrik was probably the only one who appeared to have enough patience to answer my questions. Too bad he was too busy murdering me with that massive spike on his snout. It was the size of a fully developed Earth Pony for Luna's sakes!

Anyway, that time was in the later stages of spring... or maybe summer had just started. I don't remember. The grass was its greenest, and that was all I could care about.

My youthful blood sprayed everywhere as that massive spike carved through- Good Celestia, I'm grossing myself out. I don't want to throw up on this paper. I was a warrior, and remembering battles grosses me out.

I writhed in agony... At least, that's what I assumed I did. I blacked out, then awoke in a different position. The field was desolate, but still generally green. If not for the bodies littering the place, I'd have figured nothing had happened. Not even my wounds. The source of the previous pain had vanished save for a scar. I was not even hungry or thirsty.

I was alone for the first time in years. My name tags were gone, and so were my rationed supplies. I didn't blame whoever looted my corpse. Ponies need all they can get to push the warmongers back.

Nowadays, that previous hell was replaced with films about "Evil Gryphons" and Timber wolf stories like Xylem & Phloem. We actually maintain a relatively positive contact with gryphons, and the timber wolves aren't as sentient as freakin' diamond dogs!

Gryphons? Good Celestia, is that child's play! The Rhinos were, hooves-down, the worst enemy of harmony the Equestrians had ever faced, and they're still resentful for the ultimate victory we claimed a long time ago! I, Frozen Waters, can testify to that through first-hand experience and the multiple scars I had received from that conflict.

Silver entered the library for the first time in years. A rush of nostalgia greeted him like the smell of a fresh meal in a good grandparent's house. He remembered all of the days he spent reading books, and applying the knowledge of hundreds of names into whatever he writes and does.

He left for college before he could read every book. This inheritance would give ample opportunity to completely read the entirety of the library. Lacking the room in his apartment, Silver decided to keep the ones he hadn't read, and his favourite books. Everything else would be donated to a good library.

For now, however, Silver wanted little more than to spend a few hours looking through a few books. He spent the next hour picking out a book and reading the first several chapters.

Gold entered the library, but Silver didn't notice. The younger brother was engrossed in his current book.

"Silv," Gold called.

"Yeah?" Silver asked without looking up.

"If you want, I could hold onto these books for you. My home's got the space."

"Nah," Silver replied, "I want to donate them to libraries across Equestria. Mum would want that."

Gold blinked.

"Of course, I'll keep the ones I haven't read yet," Silver added.

Gold passed by Silver without a response. It was a rather unusual reaction. At last, Slver peeled his eyes from the page he was reading. "What's this?" The elder asked.

The elder referred to a safe in the corner between two towering shelves.Silver remembered the safe. It always sat there. Neither mum nor dad ever spoke of it, nor did they give a decent answer when the younger brother did bring it up. Silver stood up, marked his page, and approached his brother and the safe.

"What do you think?" Gold asked.

"I think mum can't stop me from finally opening that thing," Silver replied.

"Unless it's rigged with some magic trap, or a curse."

"There are no such things as curses, Gold," Silver quipped, "Every unicorn knows that."

Gold huffed with a smile. Silver repeated his brother's action. "Got any tools for this job?" the younger asked. Gold nodded before leaving.

The scriptwriter continued staring at the safe. Like the cliffhanger of a good book, Silver wondered what came after the safe door. What was stored in there that mum wouldn't have wanted Silver to see in her lifetime? Or anypony for that matter.

While waiting for his brother, Silver sat down next to the safe and continued reading his book of choice. It was an autobiography to the author of the Daring Do Adventures. There was a pony Silver admired. A strong female character and legitimately evil antagonists. Even as a unicorn, Silver could identify with the adventurous pegasus.

He didn't like the overabundance of gryphon antagonists later on in the series, however. Then again, the author's father was killed in the Gryphon Conflict.

Two pages later, Gold returned with an intimidating-looking drill. The bit looked tough enough to bore through diamond. Gold set up the contraption and began drilling into the lock.

Silver continued reading as his brother worked. Several more pages later, there was finally a loud crack, and Gold twitched as the resistance against the drill stopped entirely, and shot forward.

"You okay, bro?" Silver asked as he marked his page and approached.

"Nah, I'm fine," Gold replied as he pried the drill away from the safe.

Silver looked into the safe as Gold opened the door.

A humongous tome sat in the safe. Silver noted the pages reached in the high thousands. The cover of the tome was a picture of an ice-clad lake.

"What's your name?" Silver asked, more to the book than anything.

The book was too heavy for either brother to lift with their hooves. Magic was used instead.

The massive book was placed rather gently onto an end table next to Silver's original chair. "No title," Gold mentioned as he looked at the broad spine.

Silver opened the cover to note that the paper looked remarkably new. This could be attributed to the fact that the tome had been sealed inside the safe for so long.

The first page contained nothing but what he assumed was the title. In big, bold letters, IT'S A KIND OF MAGIC was almost carved onto the page in a mad scrawl. The pages afterward were all but entirely covered with words. From that next page all the way to the end, Silver saw nothing but notes and ramblings.

"To whoever takes the time to read the only copy of this book," Gold started.

Silver closed the book once more. "I'm bringing this back,"

"Eh?" The elder asked.

"This is exactly what I need, Gold: Inspiration."

Chapter 3

[PAGE 0230 - CHAPTER 3]

All this rambling on all the nice gryphons I've ever known and I haven't even got into any real specifics on the Rhino War. The Unicorns were the real dealers of damage in that time. Rhinos outmatched us in almost every way.

Well, the pegasi were useful. They reigned terror from the skies. Poor us Earth ponies. We got little to no action aside from whenever our supply convoys were attacked.

That was when I died... wait, that doesn't sound right... Anyway, Kurgan Indrik personally saw to the ambush on my convoy.

You've heard the stories if you're a pony who paid attention to these modern history classes. He's a humongous rhinocerous with a different anatomy to his bretheren. He had massive tree trunks for legs with similar joint structure to a pony's, and that colossal blade of a horn was bigger than any of us. I wondered how one would be able to kill such a hate-filled beast.

He came along and ran through me like those banners at a football game. You know, the banners the teams blast through? Does anyone remember those?

Man, I'm getting old.

He told me the reason he was leading this war was because that was what he was born to do. He wanted to do it because he had to.

I didn't understand then. I still don't really understand. I didn't have my cutie mark at the time. I was a latecomer in the cutie mark game. I didn't want to do anything because I had to.

I laid there with a hole through my abdomen. Somehow I hadn't lost consciousness. I watched as the carriages we meticulously built got smashed into splinters in a matter of seconds. The much-needed supplies were taken.

I didn't die. I couldn't die.

Even when I had given up and closed my eyes for what I thought was the last time, I woke up the following morning with my wound completely healed. My body- interior and exterior- was as good as new. I lived on, unlike my comrades- who all laid around me with wounds that paled in comparison to what I had received the night before.

Everything was gone. My tags, the supplies, the tags of other ponies. Another convoy must have found us and get all they could get before moving on. I didn't blame them. Stop the monster from destroying your house before you make it neat and tidy again. Easy logic to get behind, right?

Wait... I wrote this before...

The air smelled rancid. No pony's land, they later called the area. In another thousand years, that road would become the foundation for a small town called Fillydelphia.

I returned to barracks, and reported that the Rhinos had slain the convoy with little effort. They asked how I lived to tell the tale. In all honesty, I didn't know. I now believe it's just an activation of my immortality, but nopony's ever believed in immortality before. Queen Galaxia was still young, only about two years younger than myself. No one really had a concept of longevity.

I was brought back to the convoy game, despite my niggling fear of being ambushed like that again.

Then it happened again; not even a month later. Kurgan wasn't there this time. I got my flank handed to me once more.

I still didn't die.

At this point, some ponies would think that my surviving two ambushes would make me a spy. After I awoke among what was left of my comrades, I ran away. I never looked back. I had since been declared missing, as they had never found my body.

My tags were still with them.

The war ended, and I finally returned home after what felt like a year of scavenging grass from what later became Whitetail Wood.

They stood in silence as I entered. Turns out they got a letter announcing my death months ago. It was so awkward. They later realised that I was in fact, not at all dead. They celebrated like a new pony was born. They celebrated like the war was over.

And it was over. Kurgan Indrik was forced back after being incapacitated by the supreme power of Galaxia. I attended the execution of that terrible monster.

He didn't die. I watched as multiple ponies stabbed Kurgan in vital areas while being hung from a chain around his burly neck. The bastard wouldn't die. He just wouldn't.

Strangely enough, I felt as if a brother was being wounded. After that "mild punishment", (As he called it in that massive, boastful voice he has) Galaxia struck a deal: Try an attack again, and all of Elasmotheria would burn.

This caused Kurgan Indrik to laugh. Even now, I'm not sure why. I wish Kurgan told me... Maybe he knew that eventually, pony society would grow in relative peace. Ponies never had a war anywhere near that level again. We evolved... We degenerated...

Silver left the manor with several trunks full of books being pulled behind him. The books themselves consisted of his favourites and all the ones he hadn't read yet. The massive tome was included in the bunch. For every other book left behind, he planned to return and carry them across Equestria. He planned to donate them to every library he could. Mum would've liked it that way.

Despite his skinny appearance, Silver was a perfectly able-bodied pony. He certainly didn't know anypony who wasn't in this day and age.

The next train back to Trottingham was loaded swiftly, and the playwright once more began to sleep through the ridiculously long ride back home.

At least, he would, except he was reading the massive book. The writing looked modern, but the entirety of the book looked ancient. It was as if a pony bought the materials a century ago and wrote it all yesterday. That could be attributed to the air-tight seal of the safe that imprisoned this eight thousand pages worth of lost knowledge.

"Frozen Waters," Silver muttered, "Waters... Where have I seen that name before?"

On the back of his mind, he had his inspiration at work. The typewriter in his brain was working around the clock, getting something basic ready to be written down on real paper. The scriptwriter had something nopony can reject.

That pompous Sydney will never know what hit him.

Silver had reached the hundredth page by the time he dozed off. He awoke after a couple of hours later when the train whistle blowed during its stop at Dodge Junction. Feeling his stomach rumble, the scriptwriter marked his page with a thin cloth bookmark, and hid the tome under the blankets of his cot.

He passed by several carts until he reached the on-board cafeteria. He ordered a petunia sandwich and apple juice in a sealed carton. As he waited for his order, the horn blew again. The cars lurched back into motion, almost throwing the scriptwriter off of his hooves.

Pretty soon, he got his order, and he consumed it quickly in the designated eating area. Bolted down tables and chairs to match. Any manner of pony also sat in the area. Among them was a young cyan mare in a purple cloak. The cloak, along with a matching hat on the mare's table, was riddled with colourful dots and stars.

Silver assumed the unicorn mare was a stage performer. He merely noticed the mare because she looked depressed, and was the only pony aside from the playwright who wasn't talking to anyone.

It was also the only table with an empty spot.

Seeing as the train showed no signs of stopping anytime soon, Silver filtered through the conversation-laden air and asked if a seat was taken at the mare's table.

"You wish to sit at the same table as the Great and Powerful Trixie?" The mare asked.

Silver immediately regretted this attempt to pass the time, but responded positively anyway. "Well, everypony else is talking."

The Great and Powerful Trixie stared at the relatively skinny indigo stallion before sighing and gesturing toward the open seat.

As Silver placed his plate on the table, he noticed the mare had barely touched her own food.

"Sometimes I wonder if we'll improve these things," Silver commented.

"What's that?" The cyan mare asked.

"The train. It's a lot slower than booking a flight with Pegasi Airlines."

The other unicorn didn't seem to know how to respond to that.

"Of course, trains can carry more than a charriot ever could, and the slowness makes everything outside look more appealing," Silver continued before taking a bite from his sandwich. "I never liked flying, so a train is my only remaining option for moving around Equestria... You know, a longer train ride gives ample opportunity to really appreciate something, like a good book-"

"I'm sorry, but who in the world are you?" The Great and Powerful Trixie asked.

"Oh," Silver stammered, "I'm Silver. Silver Screen."

"Silver Screen, the writer of The Last Earth Pony?" Trixie asked.

Silver didn't expect a relatively young mare to immediately know some aspects of the cast and crew of some random movie. A well-received movie by most critics, granted. The playwright actually hoped this mare wouldn't actually know of his work. He nodded. "And The Wonderbolt, among others."

"The Last Earth Pony was so inspiring," Trixie said with the voice of a pony who had been reminded of an excellent memory.

Silver blinked, and asked "Inspiring?"

"It has one of my-" She paused for a split second, almost as if she wasn't used to using first-person pronouns. "favourite life lessons," the mare replied, "Even when you're rendered powerless by the unfair, you always will have options in Equestria."

Silver had a blank expression on his face. That wasn't one of the themes he had in mind when he wrote the screenplay. He knew the story was utter trite. The kind of feel-good story a colt would watch as an excuse to cook up some popcorn. It was also very lame. The kind of movie Sydney always green-lights, regardless of originality.

"And this helps in your line of work?" The scriptwriter asked.

"More recently, yes."

Silver remained silent to allow the mare to elaborate.

"More recently, yes," She repeated. Silver assumed she was expecting him to actually ask.

"I'm listening," Silver replied.

"The Great and Powerful Trixie is a powerful magician, and Trixie put on shows for ponies to display my immense power."

"So a street magician," Silver said.

Trixie gave the scriptwriter a sort of death glare, but continued regardless. "Trixie had defeated the Ursa Major, but the citizens of Ponyville wouldn't believe such an impossible feat had ever been done!"

Silver blinked. He had worked on a story about an Ursa Major before. A beast that was the size of Manehattan's tallest skyscraper, and a measly pony in a cape could take it on? "I'd say that's hot air," the playwright said,

"No it isn't!" Trixie snapped back.

"I've seen the Ursa Major before," Silver replied candidly, "Also, if you're all great and powerful, why aren't you in the military?"

Trixie appeared to have a response, but she shut her mouth as soon as she opened it. "That's... a very specific question to ask," she said.

"Ah jeez, I'm sorry," Silver shook his head, "It's just what I do. I ask questions to make sure a good story makes sense, even if it is trite."

Trixie nodded.

"So Ponyville didn't believe you," Silver continued, "What happened from there?"

"A couple of months ago, these little colts foolishly went into the Everfree Forest and brought the Ursa Major to Ponyville."

In his mind, Silver could tell that was totally hot air. If it were an Ursa Major, it'd have been in the papers, or Ponyville would be removed from the maps entirely. However, he decide to entertain this story until the end.

"This meek unicorn defeated the Ursa Major, and said it was merely a baby."

Silver smiled. It all made sense now. Ursa Minors were merely the size of a house or two. A small team could take one on.

"Why didn't you defeat the Ursa Minor?"

Trixie didn't reply. She took a bite from her own meal. With her mouth full of food, she disguised her unwillingness to respond into an inability.

"Sounds like the moral of a short story," Silver commented before doing the same.

"What are you writing now?" Trixie asked.

"Currently, nothing," Silver lied. He was certainly writing something in his mind. "The last script I wrote was rejected."

"Rejected?" Trixie asked in hammed-up surprise, "A story by the writer of The Last Earth Pony?"

"Yeah. It was about a unicorn mother befriending a gryphon to escape from a faraway kingdom full of beasts."

"Sounds like a real adventure."

"Yeah, 'cept my Exec Producer hates gryphons as anything other than irredeemably evil monsters."

"To be fair, ponies did have a conflict with them recently," Trixie commented.

"Ninety years isn't recent," Silver corrected.

Trixie sighed, "My Grandpa was there. He always talked about the horrors the gryphons inflicted."

Silver suddenly thought about the book he had left back on his bunk. This Frozen Waters character had mentioned that gryphons were "Child's play" compared to the Rhinos. Gryphons may have kept some ponies prisoner during the war, but they did that to try to claim an advantage in the conflict more than for later sport.

The descriptions of what Rhinos did truly disturbed the scriptwriter. Inflicted horrors beyond Silver's wildest imagination. The bottom of the barrel for cruelty. It was perfect for a new movie to create and expose to the peace-loving masses.

The scriptwriter hadn't noticed that Trixie looked deep in thought. "Something wrong?" Silver asked.

She shook her head out of her trance. "Yeah," the unicorn mare said, "Trixie is fine."

Silver blinked, but let her be. "Anyway, it's been nice talking to you," the scriptwriter said as he stood from his now-empty plate and carton.

"Yeah, likewise," Trixie replied.

Silver properly discarded the plate and carton and returned to his cot. The book was still under the blanket, fortunately. Unfortunately, there were some ponies in suits and shades waiting for the playwright. The two turned as Silver entered the car- which was suddenly empty save for the three ponies.

"Silver Screen?" One asked.

"Is something wrong?" Silver immediately asked, skipping the formalities.

"Yes, the safe had been broken into."

"The safe?"

"That's right."

"I opened it," the scriptwriter explained, "My brother and I did."

"Do you understand what's in there?" One mystery pony asked.

"It's just some book."

"It must not see the light of day," the second mystery pony said.

"Why not?" Silver asked as he inched toward his cot. The two strangers approached at the speed of snails.

"It holds Equestrian secrets your parents have been tasked to never let loose."

"If that's the case, why didn't they write that in either will?" Silver asked.

"It would pique your curiosity. You would have still opened it-"

"Yeah- no it wouldn't!" Silver retorted. He was calling a bluff, and he knew he called one. The two strangers did not falter in their steady approach. "If that were explained in full, I'd have taken the effort to make sure it's locked away for good! Why the heck would you hide a safe in a ridiculously expensive place?"

"Shut up, Silver," the first stranger growled. "We're taking that book!"

"Another question: If you're so scared of the book, why not burn it?"

"Shut. UP!" The two lunged.

A streak of burgundy and navy blue flashed past Silver's vision. Both strangers were launched across the train car, impacting against each other and the air-tight door leading to the next car.

"At last," the third stranger said as he turned to face the playwright, "Frozen Water's legacy."

Silver leaped onto his cot and got to work packing the book in some saddlebags. He kept an eye on the humongous pony who just crashed through the suited strangers. Scarred slash marks on the left side of his dullish red hide, navy blue mane and tail ragged and unkept. There were highlights that matched the pony's coat, but they looked neglected- as if they were applied for a purpose, and the purpose was achieved a long time ago.

The cutie mark was a simple kite shield. Silver saw this look before: the look of a mad pony fallen from a previous glory. The Last Earth Pony had such a character with a similar look.

However, the actor in The Last Earth Pony had nowhere near a physique such as this stranger's. The eyes alone were menacing; the kind that screams jaded. They appeared focused on the playwright... no... they were focused on the book.

"Where was it all this time?" the giant asked.

Silver decided it wasn't a good time to play dumb. If those ponies in suits knew about it, this stranger who knew the ponies in suits would know. "It's mine," Silver said, "I inherited it."

The burgundy one huffed and sat onto one cot. Despite the immense stature and mass of the pony, the cot did not buckle. The giant sighed.

"Would you mind being Doctor Exposition?" Silver asked.

"Doctor what?" the burgundy one asked. He then fully absorbed the question. "Oh, right." Silver didn't dare take his eyes off the one who threw two strangers across the train car. "Where are you headed?" He asked.

"Like I'm telling a stranger," Silver spat.

"I'm... My name's Mitts," the giant replied.

Silver flattened his brows. He knew a fake name when he heard it. Especially when coupled with that simple kiteshield cutie mark. Mitts felt too much like a proper name for a pony like that. The situation played out exactly like a Daring Do adaptation serial. He let it slide, however. "Alright. Why are you interested in my property?"

The giant glanced at the strangers, then back to the scriptwriter. Despite the stallion's size, Silver noticed the lack of wrinkles. The giant looked to be in his early twenties. "I was told that Frozen Waters would show me the way. Some zebra legend talked about a pony-"

Silver held a hoof up, gesturing for silence. "Don't spoil it for me," he said. Mitts gave a confused look as Silver opened the book.

"I need it," Mitts said.

"So do I," Silver whispered as the words captured his attention.

"Well, we're at a stalemate," the burgundy one commented, "I don't like being a thief, and you can't hold your own against those two." He gestured toward the unconscious strangers.

Silver didn't respond.

"We're headed for Trottingham, aren't we?" he asked.

Silver reluctantly nodded.

"Not anymore," Mitts replied as he stood up and approached the two strangers- who were starting to come to. Silver broke his gaze and looked at the giant- who shoved the strangers into two trunks underneath the cots. "Take the book and anything you need!"

Silver blinked before shoving the book into his saddlebags. "What about the rest of my books?"

"They're not Frozen Waters' legacy," Mitts replied. Silver gave the giant an annoyed look when the blue maned one's head was turned. "That tome is worth more than every book in Equestria. Come on, we're jumping this train."

Silver had half a mind to sigh. The imposing figure of this pony told the playwright that there was no way he had the choice. Securing his saddlebags tightly and getting his hat atop his head, the indigo pony galloped after Mitts.

Chapter 5

[PAGE 0550 - CHAPTER 5]

The University of Everfree was a small establishment at the time. It was vastly different to that massive horseshoe-shaped marvel you silly fillies and colts get to hang out in over in Canterlot. My university experience was one advanced class out of three, and a number of ponies attending were some of my comrades. They all, like me, wanted to further their education for better jobs since the war was over.

I should probably remind you all that Canterlot didn't exist. There was a temple in the middle of a grown-in Everfree Forest. That used to be the palace, up until the breakthrough of rune stones that allowed hovering structures like Cloudsdale and half of Canterlot to exist.

I took up a course in architecture... Well, it was the only one available at the time. We were still building Equestria... and rebuilding Equestria. I had to spend my free time reviewing mathematics in order to keep up with my studies. I had no friends, so I had all the free time in the world... at least, any free time that didn't involve me bouncing a ball against my dorm wall.

In hindsight, I literally did have all the free time in the world... heh...

Queen Galaxia visited often. She always approved of ponies taking the effort to better themselves. As she always said, "The only way to achieve utopia is to work for it. It may be grueling, but once we're there, we reach Nirvana."

I had no idea what 'Nirvana' is- the word, I mean- but it sounded like relaxing akin to retirement. I guess the term is something only a winged unicorn would understand.

The Queen sure was beautiful. She seemed doubly so to me. After all, she helped save my life from deep in Rhino territory.

I still deep-down felt nervous about Kurgan's threats- empty as they seemed. Indeed, I knew he and I were destined to meet again. Until then, I didn't know what to do. How long would it take before I meet that monster again? A decade? A century? Several?

Galaxia was beautiful. Oh dear reader: you may have those history books that told of the Queen. All those pictures did no justice to how divine she was.

I knew I had no chance; I was half her size, and she was all-powerful. I was just an earth pony- a worker drone. Despite what I had done in life so far, I wasn't a big stallion. I instead wound up dating a mare who was only a year older than me. Her name was Mahogany, named after the colours of her mane and skin. She was a real dame.

Not the rank of dame, mind you. She had a certain maturity to her character. Given the horrors of the war rendering us ponies a relatively jaded folk, I'd be surprised to meet a mare who didn't have said maturity to her character..

No, the word I was looking for was not 'jaded'. We still have enthusiasm. We all agreed that the only way to leave the rhinos behind us was to leave the rhinos behind us. That's what we did. We built the Everfree Town you all once knew and forgot about within ten years. We coupled our learning in architecture with the actual reconstruction of the city. Our magic- honed in power from the war- made it all the more easier.

Everfree Town faded when levitation rune stones were discovered in what's commonly known as 1233. I see it as 43BC- as in Before Celestia's birth. From there, Everfree faded and got claimed by the forest we now refer to by the same name.

The new city was named after the King; Canterlot. I never met the King.

I still loved Everfree Town. It was a marvel by itself, constantly added to, constantly improved, constantly made more appealing to the eye. It was where architects went to become artists.

I loved Mahogany. She and I worked together to make Everfree Town that place architects go to become artists. We became more and more of an item. I rather enjoyed having a special somepony to share the next three decades with.

Then her illness struck rather early in her life.

She lay on her deathbed. She had a work-related disease, something that affected her lungs. Her face was wrinkled, but still beautiful. She asked me "You look the same as you did when we first met." It was then that I remembered Kurgan Indrik's words... I was immortal.

I told her about my encounters. She was the first pony to learn of what I had been through. I wondered why I hadn't told my sister, or brother, or mother and father.

She died rather unceremoniously. You know those movies that prolong a character's death in order to get a naive, yet inspiring speech across? She never got to start on hers. She succumbed to whatever plagued her lungs.

I cried a river... but then, I knew what I had to do...

I returned home.

Mom and Dad were already gone. Ocean and Salt still remained in my hometown, with their respective husband and wife. They had children... they were strong and fine.

I never had children with Mahogany... It never happened, no matter how hard we tried.

...

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Any ink that had been on the remainder of this page had been washed away by what we assume is a salty solution. We couldn't reclaim anything. We apologize for the inconvenience.]

...

... told my siblings. They both looked immensely older than before. They were both shocked to see me look as young as I was.

I recall the conversation with my sister.

"Frozen," Ocean said, "What happened to you?"

"I can't die, Ocean," I replied, "I should have been dead a long time ago."

She didn't understand. Neither did her husband. An immortal was unheard of- aside from Kurgan Indrik, for obvious reasons. The whole family eventually united... I think I just got lost in my own writing.

Reunited with family, told them of this blessing... curse... whatever... Salt looked old... He looked remarkably old. He wore a beard and was proud of it.

"How's things?" I asked, despite the concerned expressions from every adult in the family.

I felt alone. Even with my own family, I felt alone. I knew they would be dead in another twenty years.

Oh yes, the children were at the same age as me. They were busy with their own stuff... Ocean and Salt... I miss them...

I never had a good opportunity to really get to know my brother and sister. I was too young to have any real intelligent conversation with them before the war. We were busy getting our hooves dug into our new homeland. Then the war happened, and I never saw them for a few years... then I just worked to get the bits for my education...

Oh Galaxia... I never got to tell them I loved them. They died when I wasn't around! I never learned of it until I met my nephew for the first time.

I'm behind on the damn times! I'm behind on those terrible, terrible times!!

I miss Mahogany... I miss my family... I miss Luna...

At last, the party had arrived at a small town comprised of elevated, relatively elaborate wooden shacks. Only two buildings had any real foundation to speak of. Everything else was suspended on admittedly excellent supports.

The sun beat down on the ponies. Mitts' hide shone from the sweat pouring from his thick mane. Silver felt glad he had his akubra to shield his own mane. Trixie's hat and cloak didn't look efficient at keeping herself cool, but she didn't appear tormented.

"Dodge Junction," Mitts said, "Here's where I got on your train."

"I haven't been here before," Trixie muttered. Only Silver could hear her, as Mitts was several steps away. "Not much of a crowd to muster."

"What do you mean by that?" Silver asked to the burgundy giant as he bookmarked the 600th page. He had the subtle trace of dried tears at the corners of his eyes. "Actually, better question. How did you know to get on the train at exactly this time?"

"I was following the ponies in suits," Mitts replied, "Had been following them for a week before they found you.

"That sounds a little creepy," Trixie said.

"Well, the Guard practiced it in a little thing called "Stakeouts" - except the target was always moving... No, there's a term for that."

"Irregardless," Trixie said. She failed to spot the scriptwriter cringing horribly. "What are we doing here?" She asked.

"I just want Silver to finish with the book. To do that, we would need a good place to hide away from more ponies in suits." Mitts glanced around as he spoke. "I give it another hour before they start getting real estimates and move in on us."

Mitts gritted his teeth. "Frustrated?" Silver asked.

"Yeah. I wish we had a more ideal location with easy access to supplies, or food," Mitts replied.

"What's your idea of an ideal location?" Trixie asked sarcastically.

Mitts didn't catch the tone. "The Everfree Forest. I've done my fair share of hiding in there."

"The Everfree Forest is on the other side of Manehattan!" Trixie glared in annoyance.

Mitts held a hoof up. To him and what Silver learned from many days spent for research, the hoof was a visual gesture for silence. However, Trixie didn't appear knowledgeable in the workings of the Guard, so Mitts said "Hush for a sec."

More ponies in suits, five in total. Mitts cursed under his breath. Silver assumed it was a curse, but he thought he heard a sound implying excitement.

Mitts whispered for the other two to hide somewhere. Silver quickly rolled under the nearest deck. He didn't see where Trixie went.

The tux-clad ponies finally spotted Mitts. Silver saw them glance at each other, and then cautiously approach Mitts.

Even at a distance, Silver could catch something rather disturbing on Mitts' face. It was something no pony on Equestria would ever wear on their face in such a situation.

That face was the face of one who wanted to get attacked. It's of a pony who wanted his opponents to take their best shot. Silver knew the description of such a face.

It was the face of a warrior. The scriptwriter didn't know warriors still existed. He thought they were fairy tales that had faded away from all but the history books- the very things Silver used as an influence for his action-centered screenplays.

He felt awe-struck as this pony waited for the ones in suits to approach.

Mitts lowered his stance ever so slightly.

"Mr. Foalington," the lead dressed pony said, "What a surprise."

Foalington? Silver thought. He could have sworn he heard the name before. Was it an upper-class party? He remembered only being able to get in because Gold invited him along. The scriptwriter often envied his brother's general success, compared to the mediocre can't complain life Silver had been living the past decade.

"I told you guys, and I told Baton already," Mitts said in as polite a voice he apparently could do, "I'm not doing any more favours for Princess Celestia."

The lead stranger put a hoof to his face to adjust the eye-covering shades that seemed to come with the suits. "This isn't about Her Highness. This about Her Majesty."

Mitts paused, and then asked "Which one? Luna, or Celestia?"

"Neither... now we want that book. She wants that book under wraps before anything bad happens."

Mitts nodded slowly, but he maintained that menacing expression. Silver hoped the strangers at least noticed that look on the giant's face.

"You're not getting it," Mitts replied, "Equestria has a history, and the books we get do nothing but lie. Ponies deserve to know."

"Honestly, do you really think we want to do this?" the lead stranger asked.

"Of course not," Mitts said, "It's in our nature. It's in Guard training."

"We're getting that book, with or without you in our way. As a representative to the Queen, I order you to stand down."

The stranger huffed. The lead stranger responded with a gesture to his mates. Namely a hoof swung sharply forward. They all charged.

Silver watched Mitts perform in a way he could never hope to replicate on a screenplay. There was no choreography, only brutality. The disjointing of limbs produced sounds Silver never imagined.

It was all nothing like the custom sounds put into films to add that punch that cause an audience to imagine the intense pain caused by a good hit.

These fights were real. The punches were more solid. The sounds were more... subtle... and they always were followed by verbal anguish.

The scriptwriter felt sick to the stomach. He wondered about how the fillies and colts that watched The Last Earth Pony even understood the horrors of pain. Until now, Silver thought he did.

The five or so strangers lay in battered and broken heaps, with Mitts smiling amidst the carnage. Ponies all around Dodge Junction had left the front doors of their homes to see the cause of commotion. They all stared in horror.

"What on Equestria is wrong with you?" Trixie shouted as she climbed out from under a nearby house across the street from Silver's position.

Mitts didn't reply. His demented grin faded into an expression of revelation.

There was an audience this time around.

Mitts turned to Trixie, and then to Silver. The giant then burst into a gallop. The scriptwriter scrambled out of his hidey-hole and attempted to catch up to the warrior. Trixie reluctantly followed. The ponies around them stepped back into the safety of their homes as the trio rushed out of town.

Silver hid his eyes with his wide-brimmed hat. He didn't want anypony to see how nauseous he looked.

Frozen Waters was right: ponies had adapted too well to peace.

Chapter 7

[PAGE 0912 - CHAPTER 7]

I arrived in Zebra territory. I arrived in a tribe, a visual mess. I had bested diseases, quicksand, predators, and delicious fruit.

Seriously, you know those fruits that are actually poisonous? Turns out they taste pretty good. The one I did try knocked me on my flank for a good day, but I doubt an ordinary pony would know it... the fruit can kill mortal ponies.

I lived in a village for a while. I absorbed an entire culture within twenty years. The zebras were a nice band of creatures. So much like us in behaviour and function. The only difference is that they don't use marble for their buildings.

Galaxia came to town, not caring.

She was beautiful... and evil...

I barely managed to escape with the women and children. This was just... I'll start from the beginning.

Galaxia attacked the town... To be honest, I don't know why, but I know her guards anywhere. I've seen them a lot on account of seeing Galaxia many times in my life.

She was also there. What she demanded, I never found out. I didn't want to be caught in the middle, so I helped evacuate the mares and foals while the stallions stayed behind to find out what in the world was even happening.

When we returned... there was little to speak of. Everything had been burned. Every stallion that stayed behind was dead.

The resources and potions were gone.

Galaxia did this.

I felt ashamed. I couldn't look into the eyes of those I had called family for twenty years. I couldn't be around them anymore. The thought that my kin did this made me sick to the stomach.

You know why Galaxia did this? Her private corps reverse-engineered the curative properties of the zebras' all-natural potions. What cure exactly?

Green Hoof. That horrible disease that sent many ponies to wheelchairs. The books say we discovered it with the help of the zebras- which is complete horse... Green-hoof cure was among the first remedies I learned to make when I was there- about nineteen years before she even came around!

Can you deny this? Were you even there, dear reader? I was there! I know the recipe! I know the effects! I learned it from the zebras! Those damn history books lied to you! We didn't discover it! We never built it like the wheelchairs we invented for green hoof victims! We stole it! From Zebras! Innocent, Celestia-damned ZEBRAS!!

That was secret number one to how we as a society had survived long enough to achieve utopia. I promise to you, dear reader, that there are more to come.

We're not at this point in our society from our own ingenuity and willingness to cooperate, but from our powerful goddess of a leader's greed and ego.

Sure she saved my life... but what can I think of her now? Doubts raced through my mind for the next month. They faded when I distracted myself.

I remained in Zebra territory, living on my own for a while, until I came across a patrol of gryphons.

They looked at me as if I were some undiscovered fossil. Then they pointed their spears at me, asking who I was and whence I came.

I explained my name, my purpose, and why I was there. My name is Frozen Waters. I am a pony of Equestria. I'm here because I wanted a change of scenery. I'm here because I wanted to see what everywhere had to offer in knowledge, and what I could offer in return.

The gryphons glanced at each other, then lowered their weapons. "Equestria?" one asked, "Never heard of it."

I asked them where they came from. Their response was a country called Gryphus. After much discussion, we learned that our countries were neighbors that hadn't met yet.

On the surface, I felt that an excellent friendship could be established. Deep down, I feared what the Queen would do if she found out... no, 'if' is inaccurate. I feared what the Queen would do when she found out.

I made some excellent friends in Gryphus. They taught me some techniques in their own fighting style, and I told them stories about Equestrian History, of the Kurgan Indrik, and my immortality.

Their style specialized in grapples, pins, and throws. I, bearing hooves instead of claws, managed to adopt it by turning my hoof inward, making a hook.

It became more effective that the gryphons adopted a similar technique to their original style- that is, making a hook with their claws. It allowed them to more easily pull a threatening strike to the side with minimal risk of any real impact.

If you happen to get any books on Gryphon history, I can guarantee there will be a mention of this breakthrough in martial 'technology' and I can guarantee my name will be there. Frozen Waters, creator of the Hook Grab... Luna's Socks, that sounds stupid.

Oh Celestia... I've forgotten their names... like the zebras... There's only the loves of my life, the Kurgan, and the Queen...

We had fun, my gryphon friends. They would put me in ridiculous situations that would kill even a gryphon, and I would walk and breathe as if nothing happened... A lot of gryphon wine was involved, mind you.

Gryphon wine tasted good, really good. In fact, it's the only kind of wine we ponies know of.

That Equestrian "variant" we've got in those stores reserved for the respected rich cats of ponydom? Yeah, that's just imported Gryphon wine with a different label. Any Equestrian patriots drinking that stuff? Nice work showing that patriotism you gits!

I miss my gryphon friends... they passed on a long time ago. The later generations eventually forgot that their effective fighting style was brought on in part of the very people they eventually took up arms against.

I miss my friends... I miss my family.

His eyes shot open. Silver's heart overclocked, and he could feel the force of each beat shake his whole body in the cot. He willed his diaphragm to move at a controlled pace to calm himself down.

"Something wrong?" Mitts asked from across the aisle. Silver could tell it was supposed to be a whisper, but the giant's voice resonated like a public speech.

It was nighttime. Silver didn't turn his head, or answer until he calmed down.

Mitts repeated the question. Silver immediately responded with a "I'm fine."

"Like those mares you mentioned, eh?" Mitts cracked.

Silver paused. It was the first time he heard Mitts make such a remark in the intended purpose.

"How's the book?" the giant asked.

"Eight hundredth page," Silver replied.

"Seven thousand and two hundred pages to go," Mitts muttered.

Silver lay on his cot for the longest time. The galloping of the ponies pulling the train and the rolling of metal atop metal sounded distant, a low hum and rumble that no pony would notice unless they actively tried to pay attention to it.

Silver asked what Mitts was also doing awake.

"Night watch," the burgundy one replied, "I don't need to sleep right now,"

Even after a full day of running and a violent encounter, Mitts didn't appear that tired. Silver had to admire that physical prowess at least. Any pony should, whether they agreed with the warrior's opinion or not. The scriptwriter wished he was a tenth that fit. All his time was spent walking to and from the studio, plus writing while doing simple exercises to make sure he can at least walk to and from the studio.

He was a skinny, bony pony, that was for sure.

"You were expelled from the Guards, weren't you?" Silver asked.

Mitts didn't reply. The scriptwriter took it as a yes.

"Is it because of something you've done?"

"It's because of what I can do," Mitts replied.

Silver nodded. "Yeah, we don't really have much use for warriors nowadays."

"Or fighting ponies in general," Mitts said, "Sometimes a pair would play-fight for the entertainment of those who looked back on the glory days where gryphons were the obvious bad guy, and how their grandfathers often told stories of camaraderie, heroism, selflessness."

"I know that," Silver said.

"How?" the giant asked.

"My producer can't get enough of those kinds of stories. They bring in the Broncos and the box office figures, but they're not very good."

"You a critic?"

"No; my brother is," Silver replied "I wrote the stories for those films."

"You know, I never got your name," Mitts remarked.

"It's Silver Screen," the scriptwriter replied almost automatically.

"Silver Screen, as in the writer of the Wonderbolt and The Last Earth Pony?"

"Is that going to be on my epitaph or something?" Silver asked.

"Maybe," Mitts said, "I hate those movies for my own reasons though."

"Thanks," Silver replied, and he meant it.

"What for?"

"Somepony who hates the crap Sydney makes me write in order to get food on the table... aside from my brother, anyway. He's really the only one I get along that well with."

Silver finally turned his head to see Mitts' face in the relative darkness of the train car. Even though the powerhouse faced the ceiling, the scriptwriter could see the basic expression.

The burgundy giant's face seemed... sympathetic- no, empathetic- as opposed to the intently focused expression he always wore, or that temporary state of lunacy when in an encounter with a foe.

"No problem," Mitts replied after several beats.

Silver turned his head back to the ceiling once more. His eyes shut in an attempt to get him back to sleep. He hoped there wouldn't be another unpleasant dream.

"Silv- May I call you Silv?" Mitts started.

"Sure,"

"My name is Kurt. Kurt Foalington," the giant said.

Silver didn't reply. He drifted back to sleep. He wondered where he had heard the name before.

The morning came and left, making way for lunch time. The train finally arrived at Ponyville before actual noon, so the trio disembarked. By then, names had been officially passed around. Trixie knew Kurt was Kurt, and Trixie was Trixie.

It became very obvious from the get-go that Trixie didn't feel comfortable to be in this small town. She even stopped wearing the flashy cloak or hat. Instead, she kept them folded up in her saddlebags.

"You know," Silver said to the others, "If you weren't too keen on coming here, we weren't forcing you to follow us."

Trixie grunted a response, "Trixie is bored. She craves adventure; something new."

"And following two stallions of relatively widely-differing age, while speaking on the third person, without any real reason to even care about what we're doing, is adventurous?" Kurt asked, "Personally, that just screams 'creepy'."

"Like how you were looking at those ponies back at Appleloosa?" Trixie retorted.

Silver huffed in amusement. Kurt grumbled something- possibly another expletive.

Trixie cackled rather softly. Silver ignored her and asked Kurt, "So where exactly are we supposed to lay low? Ponyville isn't known for its cellars."

"No, but I know a few good ponies here," Kurt replied.

After a bit of walking, and some short-lived stares from some ponies, they arrived at a giant umbrella-shaped building. The fancy garnishes that covered the decorative pony mannequins implied to the scriptwriter that this was a dressmaker's shop.

"Wait, no." Kurt said as he turned away, "She's not home."

Trixie and Silver exchanged reluctantly accepting glances, and continued to follow the powerhouse.

"Ah!" Kurt announced suddenly, and he galloped away, toward a giant bed-shaped building.

Silver simply felt perplexed at the sheer complexity of the buildings. He wondered who exactly designed and built these places- and for what payment. What madpony would take this job for a small town barely anypony goes to? This was barely the same size as a quarter of Canterlot!

"Wait here," Kurt said as he stopped at the base of the front porch. Silver and Trixie complied, and the massive stallion entered.

Silver couldn't help but catch the smell of something delicious wafting through the doors.

"Something smells good," Silver said.

"This is a bed and breakfast," Trixie replied.

Silver nodded. The shape of the building made that fact more obvious than even the flashy neon signs used to tell the public whether or not a Trottingham pub was open.

"What's Trottingham like?" Trixie asked after a few beats.

"Haven't you been there before?" Silver asked.

Trixie shook her head. "Why else do you think Trixie was going there?"

Silver shrugged; he didn't want to answer. He had no answer.

"Kurt!" An aged voice emitted from behind the double-doors, "Good Celestia! How have you been?"

Silver decided to hell with waiting, and he entered. Trixie followed, obviously. Neither of them were prepared to see a pony surpassing Silver Screen's age giving Mitts a hell of a firm handshake and a hug of all things.

"It's only been a month or two, Patrick," Kurt replied.

"We weren't expecting to see you again," the middle-aged pony said.

"I know, I'm sorry I broke the promise-"

"Nonsense!" Patrick exclaimed, "You're a champion of Equestria! How can Stell and I help you out?"

Kurt paused. He turned to the companions who entered the bed & breakfast. "We need a place to lay low."

"The Guard's still after you?"

Kurt shook his head. "They're after this pony," he said as he gestured to the scriptwriter.

Patrick looked at Silver Screen. The smile slowly faded as the obvious workhorse appeared to be turning gears in his mind.

"I've seen you before," Patrick said as he raised a hoof.

"Probably in a screening of the Wonderbolt," Silver said. He remembered the premiere screening he attended took place in Ponyville a few years ago.

"How can you tell?" Trixie asked to the middle-aged workhorse.

"Mostly the hat," the workhorse replied, "The only pony in Ponyville who doesn't go anywhere without her hat is Applejack."

Silver pondered the relevance, but he accepted that he could be recognized by the hat alone. He then realised that those tux-clad ponies could also recognize him by the hat alone.

Patrick gestured to the rather open dining room, where lunch was being served to two other ponies; neither of whom seemed familiar. The workhorse then turned to the kitchen- which was visible from the lobby.

"Stella," Patrick called, "We have more visitors."

"Good thing I always cook extra!" a warm mare's voice replied.

Silver spotted Kurt crack a smile. "You always cook extra," the burgundy one said.

Soon, the group joined the other two guests already seated at the table. Patrick introduced the two of them to the trio, but Silver already knew who they were.

They were both famous ponies in the time when film had no storage options other than incredibly flammable analog tape. Mirra was the mare, an actress who disappeared into obscurity. Max was the silent husband who never said anything, but always kept a smile.

Silver's joints almost gave out in awe. To be in the company of two individuals. It couldn't have been by chance. It had to have been destiny. Mirra and Max in the same room as this lowly scriptwriter.

It was an honor.

"This is Mirra and Max," Patrick said. Silver pondered if the bed & breakfast owner even knew the gravity of the presence of those two. "They're traveling the world."

Max tipped his bowler hat to the trio, while Mirra made a pristine bow of her head.

Silver was giddy with excitement. Two icons of the risk-taking films of the old times, sitting across a rather small table from him. He'd be the envy of all of his scriptwriter friends. He'd be the envy of Gold!

"It's an honor to meet you two," Silver said as non-fanboyish as he could.

"You know us?" Mirra asked.

"Do I?" Silver said, "You haven't aged a bit from Colt on a Dolphin!"

It was a lie. They certainly looked older. They both fit the description Frozen Waters gave to the aging Mahogany. The young beauty faded, replaced with a different kind- a more mature and respectable kind.

Max turned his gaze to his wife in concern. His smile was gone. Mirra did the same to her husband. Mirra- no, both of them appeared... worried.

Silver expected expressions of humbleness... or even continued smiles. The scriptwriter looked to his comrades. Kurt looked speechless, while Trixie gave the scriptwriter an odd look- the kind one gives to an obsession-fueled pony. Patrick and Stella also paused.

"What's wrong?" Silver asked as he turned to the celebrities.

"We didn't think somepony would remember us," Mirra replied, "We thought we were free."

Silver simply stood there, confused as the concept of a potato chip bag being thrown at a chain-link fence. "I'm not sure I understand," he said as his two companions took their own seats. Patrick and Stella silently continued serving dishes full of delicacies to the table.

"Why wouldn't you want to be remembered?" Silver asked.

Mirra didn't immediately answer. One look on her face told the scriptwriter that she wasn't used to such a question, and thus didn't have an answer ready.

"You're the first one who recognized us," the mare said.

"I'm sorry," Trixie interrupted, "But who are they?"

"Mirra and Max, the mare and stallion duo that conquered the stage of every movie they were in," Silver said, "Their dialogue famously never written- but ad-libbed, the Mare in Red and the Silent Stallion."

Max huffed amusedly. His smile returned.

"Why would you want to be forgotten?" Silver asked.

"Because our time as film stars passed," Mirra replied, "We retired. We wanted nothing more than to live in a world where we're not known by the fiction we helped create."

Silver nodded slowly. Suddenly he was able to understand... sort of.

"Don't you miss it?"

"The utter torment that we had to suffer at the hands of directors who wanted to create the best movie ever?" Mirra asked, "No. We don't miss it."

Torment? Silver thought. How could making such great movies be torment?

"That's the sacrifice of a good movie, the kind of sacrifice filmmakers today don't contemplate," Mirra said. As she spoke, her tone became increasingly harsher, "Movies today may seem forgettable and bland, but at least nopony forced you to practice a dance number even when your hooves bled. No pony threw the proverbial curveball at you in order to get a more realistic reaction. No attempted real flooding of the set-"

"Let's eat," Patrick suggested.

Like clockwork, everypony served themselves and dug in.

Silver didn't eat. He wasn't hungry. He pondered what the elderly actress had said.

After dinner, Kurt and Trixie left the table with the bed & breakfast owners to discuss the terms of how long they would be staying, and for how much. Mirra and Max eyed the scriptwriter

"Did what I say bother you?" Mirra asked as she stared at the empty, crumb-less plate in front of the script writer.

"Yes, it does," Silver candidly replied, "Did they really do those things?"

"Trotting in the Rain," Mirra said, "No pony mentions it because we live in a society that wants to be peaceful. We don't want conflict. I understand that well. Our parents were in the Gryphon Conflict."

Silver didn't reply. He had more questions, "They did all this to make those iconic scenes in movies."

"That's a tragedy of film buffs like yourself, and that one critic-" Mirra paused and attempted to recall. She turned to her husband. "What was his name, Gold?"

Max nodded.

"My brother?"

"He's your brother?" Mirra asked, "Small world."

"You said something about a tragedy?" Silver said.

"If you see enough good aspects of something, everything else starts to look bland, or even bad- or worse," Mirra replied. She then reached elegantly to the center of the table and tapped onto a bowl with some fresh bread sitting atop. "Eventually, you become jaded. Nothing interests you anymore, and you stop being a pleasant pony to be around."

Silver looked down to the bread, then back at his idol.

"You're Silver Screen, writer of The Last Earth Pony," Mirra said.

The scriptwriter sheepishly nodded.

"You're right, it is bland," the Mare in Red said, "That doesn't mean it doesn't entertain. That doesn't mean it's not escapism."

Silver nodded again. Feeling his stomach rumble, he picked up the bread with his unicorn magic.

"Thank you," Silver finally said after several seconds of silence.

"How is Jade, by the way?" Mirra suddenly asked.

"Mum?" Silver asked, startled.

"Yes, Jade. She and I are good friends."

"Were," Silver corrected after a beat, "She passed away recently."

"Oh... I'm sorry," Mirra said.

"It's okay," Silver said. He didn't want to elaborate why, but he almost hoped his idol wouldn't prod into it.

"I was on my way home from the will reading," he continued, "I was reading this book I inherited, and ponies in suits came after me."

Both of the elderly celebrities blinked. "Ponies in suits?"

"Yeah."

"They're after the book?"

Silver nodded.

"What is it, exactly?" Mirra asked.

"Have you ever heard of a pony named Frozen Waters?"

"Waters... that name sounds familiar," Mirra said.

Max tapped a hoof on his chin. He didn't appear to remember either.

"That's what I said," Silver commented.

"Who is this Frozen Waters?" she asked, like Silver expected at this point in the conversation.

"He's out there somewhere," the scriptwriter replied.

The Mare in Red looked to Max, and they both rose from the table.

"Well, it's nice to see someone remembers us fondly at least," Mirra said with a warm smile she always wore in the films she performed in.

"Likewise," Silver said as he rose from the table as well and shook their hooves.

The elderly actors retired to their room. Kurt approached the scriptwriter soon after.

"Patrick's willing to let us stay until we're either done, or he gets paying customers to replace us with," Kurt said.

"Fair enough," replied Silver. He could have paid, but he still only had the bits he brought with him when he expected nothing more than a trip to the will reading and back to Trottingham. Considering their predicament, they need to save as much as they can. Trixie didn't appear to be remotely wealthy, and Kurt certainly would have paid, but the fact he got a free deal implies he has nothing.

Heck, Kurt was the only one who didn't have any possessions on his person at all. He merely had those toughened hooves, that claw scar, and the most unkept mane in the history of ponydom.

The trio split up to their own rooms. Kurt insisted on taking Room 5. Trixie and Silver respectively took the two surrounding rooms 4 and 6.

After locking his door, Silver dropped his saddlebags and akubra onto the cozy bed and stretched his back. The book was really the only thing that had any real weight, but over eight thousand pages was still heavy.

He continued reading. With freedom and no one to talk to, he knew he wouldn't be distracted.

Chapter 8

[PAGE 0991 - CHAPTER 8]

The Gryphon conflict was not because of their greed and hunger for more land. They eventually retaliated because the Queen's Guard personally kicked the hornet's nest one time too many.

Ever since we established relations with them, the Queen had antagonized them under the table. No pony ever found out, except me.

I know why she did it. She conceived the gryphons as a potential threat- what with their relatively imposing size and weaponry. She might as well show them She did that because she knew that ponies, despite their degraded combat nature, had beaten the infinitely worse Rhinos for a reason.

The gryphon conflict you all look back on as a symbol of Equestrian pride, was an immature display of citizen relations. I had gryphon friends for Celestia's sakes!

Anyway, I decided to leave one day. They gave me some wine as a farewell gift. They were so kind back then- back before we pissed them off.

I don't remember much after that. I think there was something about ponies trying to develop "escapism."

One night, on the way to Everfree Palace, I discovered this true beauty sitting atop a hill on the side of the road. She had the sure signs of a unicorn. Her mane blended with the night sky- almost as if she was the source of the glimmering blackness.

She was more beautiful than my previous descriptions of Galaxia.

"Hail, fair mare," said I... MAN, that looks like some overly-chivalrous crap.

"And to you," she replied, "What are you doing awake?"

I told her the truth: I rather like the night. A much deeper truth was that it was safer for an immortal like me- with the knowledge I have- to travel at night.

She looked rather... stunned, actually. I couldn't figure out why. After all, I did tell the truth- that was something the Guard trained us in even back in the disorganized militia days.

"You enjoy the night?" she asked disbelievingly.

"More so than the day time, to be honest."

She smiled. To me, it shone brighter than Celestia's sun.

"What's your name?" The mare asked.

"I'm Frozen Waters," I replied, hoping I had a chance this time around. I was rather lonely, and it had been a while since my most recent old friends passed away.

"I am Luna, Princess of the night," she replied in an overly dramatic, yet hushed tone. Her wings appeared. In the darkness of night, I did not notice her gift of flight.

I immediately dropped in a respectful bow everypony does to royalty. This wasn't Galaxia. I could not judge her children by their parent.

"Rise, Frozen Waters," Luna ordered rather softly.

As I complied, she asked "Why do you enjoy the night?"

"Mostly the sky," I replied as I looked straight up, "When you look up while lying down, you get a studded blanket, and it's like the ultimate connect the dots project."

"Mostly," Luna repeated. She expected more, smart mare.

"I find it safer," I continued.

That was the point where she was confused. "Safer?" she asked.

Indeed, night time was safer. I couldn't die.

"Are you hurt?" Luna said.

"What?" I asked. I hadn't looked in a mirror in ages, but he didn't think he looked that terrible.

"You have scars."

"Oh, these," I replied. Even with my rapid regeneration, the wounds left permanent marks to prove I had been damaged there at all. "I'm fine."

She was a beaut... She asked me how I got them. I told her about the Rhino War, my immortality.

"We cannot die either," Luna suddenly said as I was telling her about the time Kurgan Indrik captured me. "Tia, Mother, we can't die either."

"I'm certain winged unicorn are different," I said.

"Then what made you so special?" She asked.

I had no answer. I was just an earth pony from a town that had faded away. I was the last of my family. Everyone else had become genetically diverse to the point where proving my relations to anyone was impossible.

I've lost count of the years at this point, but I still remembered what one of my drill sergeants said. He said "Rhinos threatened the peace of Equestria, like Wendigos did before Equestria. If you pukes lack the proper motivation, you will not save Equestria. You will allow Equestria to burn, and you will be dead ponies. Then you will be in a world of darkness, because ponies are not allowed to die without permission!"

Here I sat, unable to die even with permission, in a world filled with darkness, sitting next to the Princess who ruled said darkness.

"Are there others like us?" Princess Luna asked.

"Kurgan Indrik," I said. I knew of no others.

"Kurgan Indrik," Luna repeated, "That explains it."

I agreed. Of all the creatures who existed on the planet, Kurgan Indrik had to be unable to die. I sat down where I stood. We both looked at the stars. I had counted them all. "I'm jealous of my sister," Luna suddenly admitted.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Everypony sleeps through this," She indicated the very sky we looked at.

"I don't."

She looked at me. I didn't turn my head to see, but somehow I knew.

She was a real beauty... an immortal beauty...

I pondered what exactly would result from the relationship between a winged unicorn and a non-winged unicorn. I wish I could have children... They would have been strong and fine.

Silver woke up for the seventh time in Ponyville. A week had passed, and the rooster out at a nearby farm blared its natural foghorn to indicate Celestia's handiwork a success.

His eyelids had a difficult time staying open. He was up for a fair portion of the night reading through the thousands of pages. He checked his current marked page, finding he had reached almost five thousand.

"Luna's socks," he cursed as he hoisted himself up onto the edge of the admittedly comfy bed. He accidentally slid off the side and slumped onto the carpeted floor like a sack of potatoes.

He groaned a tired blather and pushed himself up again. With a stretch on his hind legs, he approached the closed door of Room 6.

Kurt stood outside. His head turned to the scriptwriter as he opened the door.

"Good morning," Kurt said.

"Morning," Silver replied.

"I'm going for a morning gallop," the giant said, "I'll be back in an hour."

Silver nodded, but he didn't really listen. Kurt nodded in acknowledgement and trotted downstairs to the front double doors.

Before he closed the door once more, he spotted Trixie exiting her own room. She appeared equally as tired.

"Good morning, Trixie," Silver managed to call.

Trixie waved a hoof. She looked fatigued, and unkept. There was a subtle sheen- dried sweat.

"What were you doing last night?" Silver asked.

"Training," Trixie said, the only unslurred word she's said this morning.

"Training," the scriptwriter repeated.

"The Great and Powerful Trixie does this to stay great and powerful," She said.

Silver nodded. No point in arguing.

"What about you?" She asked as she approached Silver.

"Reading that book as usual."

"What page are you on?"

"Five thousand and nineteen," Silver replied.

"Anything happen?"

"Frozen Waters met Princess Luna," Silver started. With a pause, he continued. "And... I'm starting to see why they don't want this book out in public."

"How so?" Trixie said.

"I can't describe it." Silver looked at the other doors on the floor, before he remembered Mirra and Max had left two days ago, and no other guests had arrived, "You know that breakthrough medicine that beat the Green Hoof pandemic?"

Trixie paused, then shook her head.

"It's one of those things that some schlock science fiction films often take on as a backdrop- namely the return of it. Mostly the re-purposed disease created pony zombies."

Trixie maintained her confused expression.

"But a long time ago, it was a real disease that struck Equestria, and almost killed us outright."

"But the medicine saved us." Trixie said.

"In the history books, they thanked the efforts of Thadius Von Trottingham- the same pony that my town was named after."

"Well that's pretty coo-"

"The medicine was stolen from a zebra tribe. Thadius didn't do a single thing."

Trixie blinked, absorbing the information.

"Could I ask you to take out a book from the library?" Silver asked.

Almost immediately, and suddenly awake, she shook her head.

"Why not?" The scriptwriter asked.

Trixie failed to provide an answer.

"Okay, nevermind. I'll get it myself," he said as he closed Room 6's door behind him and followed Kurt's previous footsteps. Trixie remained on the side, but then reluctantly started to follow.

"Wait a sec," Silver said before he galloped back to his room. He made sure his page was marked and shoved the massive tome into his saddlebags.

Trixie waited for the scriptwriter by the double doors. Once he caught up, the duo left the bed & breakfast to take in the morning air.

Ponyville was as familiar as Trottingham at this point. An entire week spent here- albeit mostly spent in Room 6, reading Frozen Waters' magnum opus.

"He's losing his mind, so he's writing down everything he can remember," Silver continued to the street magician, "All the proper procedures in carpentry, masonry, herbs and potion-making, Earth Pony magic potential, martial arts- he's even drawn pictures to go with them. It's made this book a rather fast read."

"Well, a fast read is good," Trixie commented, "Especially since we're still on a time budget."

Silver almost wanted to ask what the magician's problem with Ponyville was, but a distraction arose in the form of a pink pony with crazy hair.

"Hi!" the pink one called cheerfully to Silver.

"Hello," Silver replied.

"I don't think I've seen you before," she said, "That means a welcome party is in order!"

"Actually, I've been here for about a week."

The pink one gasped, as if that were an inequine crime. "I'm late! I just got back yesterday!"

"What about Trixie?" Silver asked.

The pink one seemed to ignore the question. Instead, she grabbed the skinny indigo scriptwriter and yanked him away from the library, and toward what appeared to be a gingerbread house.

"Trixie!" Silver called. This pink one scared the crap out of him.

Trixie attempted to catch up, but even carrying a pony, the pink one was abnormally fast.

Suddenly, Silver felt his head impact against the top of a doorframe. He face-planted on the floorboards of the gingerbread house.

"Oop, sorry!" the pink one sounded genuinely regretful... but then that aura passed like lightning. "I know what will fix that!"

"No!" Silver shouted as he scrambled to his hooves.

He then spotted a spontaneous crowd all shouting. "Welcome!" Silver cringed at the loud noises he wasn't at all used to. Trottingham was a rather silent place now that he thought about it. His head started to ache.

He leaned to the side. His fatigue, coupled with the hit on the head and the loud welcome. He couldn't take it.

"Silver," Kurt's voice pierced the rest.

Silver's eyes were locked shut to drown out the pain that rushed into his noggin. The loud noises that thumped at his head made minutes feel like hours.

Why did that pink one have to hit his head on the door frame. Check that, why did he raise his head in the first place to call to Trixie? She had no point to be with him and Kurt in the first place.

"Hi Kurt! Long time no see!" the pink one replied. "I brought tulips!"

"Thank you, Pinkie Pie," Kurt said as he hoisted the scriptwriter onto his back, "But no thanks."

"Aww," Pinkie said, "But you love tulips!"

"Yeah, and I'll be back for some, but Silver is in no shape for a loud party."

"Why's that?"

The music dropped in volume. Everypony started to wear concerned expressions on their faces. They appeared to just notice the scriptwriter was in agony.

Kurt didn't answer. He simply left with Silver in tow.

Trixie finally caught up. "What happened?"

"Just Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie... I guess," Kurt replied.

Pinkie Pie caught up in almost an instant. "Oh, did I do that?" She asked. Her voice sounded genuinely apologetic. "I'm so super-duper sorry!"

Silver could barely keep consciousness at this point. Sure a knock on the head and loud noises was be as pleasant as pleasant as a rock to the eye, or a bear claw to the face... or something less lethal, but still quite annoying.

Eventually, amidst Kurt trying to get Pinkie Pie away from the scriptwriter, Silver finally dropped into an unconscious state.

Silver awoke in his bedroom once more. The headache was gone, but he could feel the goose egg on the back of his head. With a gentle rub of the bump, he rose.

It was later in the afternoon, judging by the light pouring in from the rather small windows.

The scriptwriter glanced to the right. Nothing of note, save for the decorative doodads atop the functional dressers and desks. On the walls are generic print pictures framed by ornate-looking frames. On further examination, anypony would notice the ultimate cheapness of the setup.

Well, Silver thought, something needed to be sacrificed to make budget for the building itself.

He turned to the right. Pinkie Pie was there.

"Luna's Socks!" Silver cursed as he fumbled his way to the opposite edge of the bed.

The pink one was holding what appeared to be an opened box- which revealed a decorated cake. Candied sauce of some kind was drawn into an almost generic-looking "I'm super-duper sorry" message.

"I'm sorry about that bump on the head," she said with the most unbelievably adorable eyes the scriptwriter had ever seen.

Reluctantly, and silently, Silver accepted the cake-filled box.

The younger, bouncy young mare continued staring at the scriptwriter.

"Um..." Silver said after a few seconds of silence.

"Don't worry. The cake is free! That's a sign of a good society! Free cake!"

"Thank you," the scriptwriter finally said.

"I wanted to throw the party for you because you're new to Ponyville, and anyone new to Ponyville makes friends with everyone in Ponyville!"

"Yeah," Silver replied, "I had a hunch that was happening from the surprise party."

"Ooh! You did see it!" Pinkie Pie started hopping on the spot as if she was on a permanent sugar high, "Were you surprised?"

"The hit in the head kind of ruined it," Silver replied candidly, "Sorry." Deep down, he wondered what exactly this pink ball of consistent excitement was going to do.

Miraculously, Kurt entered.

"Silver, we've got a problem," he said.

Silver's heart stopped for a few seconds. A problem even compared to the goose egg? The burgundy giant had to be kidding.

Pinkie Pie's hopping stopped at the mention of a problem. "There's a problem? Ooh! I love solving problems!"

"The Tux ponies have arrived."

Silver cursed and looked around for the book.

"Where is it?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know!" Silver replied in a panic.

"Where's what?" Pinkie asked.

"The book!" the giant and scriptwriter shouted at once.

"Oh, that heavy thing? I gave it to Twilight. I thought it was hers."

Kurt's eye twitched. Silver was about to rant at the pink one... but this could serve to their advantage.

"Twilight," Kurt repeated.

"Yep!"

Kurt sheepishly looked to the carpet-covered floor for a second or two. His gaze then shot back up to the two ponies.

"Pinkie, you know this building well?"

"Well duh!" the pink one replied, "I know everypony in Ponyville. I have hiding places everywhere in case of an emergency!"

"Good. Find one in this building that Silver can hide in."

"What about you?" Silver asked.

"Don't worry about me," the burgundy one shouted back as he bounded out the door.

Silver closed the cake box. Pinkie Pie gestured the scriptwriter to follow to the cheap, yet functional dressers.

The Pink Pony appeared to press something, which caused a few floorboards to swing open. Within was a surprisingly well-kept cache of... random widgets. There were balls, toys, umbrella hats, black suits, camo gear, and canned sweetgrass.

Pinkie gestured the scriptwriter to get in there. He personally didn't need telling twice.

Once he got comfortable, Pinkie closed up the cache. Darkness reigned from there.

Silver didn't dare make a sound... but the cake smelled so delicious.

Chapter 9

[PAGE 1300 - CHAPTER 9]

I told Luna that I would be going elsewhere for a few years. I craved travel at the time. She understood, but couldn't join me.

As I wandered, I wondered how exactly their heavenly control powers even work. Do they move the sun, or the planet we stand on? To this day, I've never figured that out.

I trotted, and occasionally galloped, for a good two years. At one point, I found the sea. I dove in, and I couldn't drown.

The unfamiliar feeling of sea water filling the lungs was unpleasant, to say the least. The burning sensation in my chest eventually subsided. I felt my lungs feel stronger, like they could not get the wind punched out of them ever again.

I brought nothing. I needed nothing.

As I pulled my way across the bottom of the sea, with nothing but a general direction to continue to follow, strange, yet familiar creatures approached. They kept their distance, however.

They looked like us, only their hind legs were missing. They had gills on their strong pony necks.

"Hail," I tried to say, but nothing came out. There was no air to affect. Upon consideration, I decided to try a slow wave. The sand that had been buried in water for so long was raised with the hoof, and I accidentally hit myself in the face with the sand.

No grains got in my eyes, thankfully enough. The display of clumsiness, however, seemed to entertain these... sea... ponies...

Their speech was not impeded by the waters. I pondered if they knew I could understand them.

"Why can't you drown?" The first one asked.

I attempted to ask "what do you mean," but instead resorted to the tilt of my head and the raising of a brow.

Those old films had a certain charm to them. Without dialogue, they had to resort to over-exaggeration. They told a story with visuals.

This is mainly why a fair number of these pages are nothing but sketches. A picture is worth a thousand words, and I write too slow...

"Surface-dwellers have come before. They come in boats above. Those who fall in the water cannot survive in the water."

I slowly nodded, taking in the sight of about eight swimming ponies. I didn't know how to explain my immortality beyond trying to wound myself- which is a stupid move, because that would cause such immense pain. I couldn't speak. They knew I couldn't speak.

Then I suddenly realised that I was standing in sand. How simple it turned out to be, I thought. I began to draw out the letters in the sand. I didn't want to disturb my work by stepping on it by mistake.

In big letters, I wrote "I CAN'T DIE."

The sea ponies stared. They understood it... They just couldn't comprehend it. I didn't expect them to. I doubt even my darling Luna could really comprehend it.

"How?" One asked.

I wrote "IT'S A KIND OF MAGIC."

I then took the time to ask- er... write them what's ahead in the seemingly limitless sea. They replied, "Equilibrium."

That seemed rather perfect. My mind was constantly flooded with images of what the Queen had done to the zebras I had known for over twenty years. This Equilibrium... it sounded like the source for mental peace. For my dear Luna's sake, I felt I needed this.

I trekked on. They offered a place to stay for a while, but my mind was set. I had a goal, and I wanted to get it done. I wanted to return to my beloved soon. I miss her...

Many days and nights passed, but I couldn't tell. My eyes had adjusted to the intense darkness and I could only see the first few meters around me. I felt the crushing force of the deep waters around me, but I knew it wouldn't defeat me. I had to find Equilibrium.

I had to find Nirvana.

The apology cake had been devoured long before the scriptwriter started hearing a pair of rushed hoofsteps.

"Silver, it's time to go," Kurt quickly stated as the floorboards opened up again.

Silver's eyes blinked to get used to the flush of light. It felt like a good hour or two in perfect isolation, even though it really had taken twenty minutes.

Kurt was carrying the book in Silver's saddlebags. Trixie looked fully awake at this point.

The scriptwriter rose from his hiding place and took the books. "Where's Pinkie Pie?"

"She left to help Twilight," Kurt replied as he and Trixie helped the scriptwriter out of the pit. "How's the bump?"

Silver didn't respond. He was focusing on steeling his nerve for the coming travel. "I'm not a fan of galloping, to be honest."

"That's why I'm getting a carriage."

Sweet Apple Acres was abnormally huge. Silver wondered how much of Equestria those apples could even feed.

The description was so cliche that it made the scriptwriter cringe, but the acres really were a sea of trees.

"You know, I've never actually been here before," the warrior pony finally said to break the silence. The rustling of leaves in the almost non-existent wind certainly wasn't doing that job.

"Trixie," Silver said, ignoring the comment by Kurt. The street magician hadn't said a word at all on the way here.

Trixie kept the brim of her hat low, covering her eyes. After a while, the scriptwriter decided not to prod into it.

At last, they arrived at the home of whoever actually owned the ridiculously massive farm. Kurt knocked on the door.

An orange pony in a cowboy hat opened the top half. "Well howdy. I do believe Ah've seen you befor-" She said to Kurt, but then paused. She had spotted the street magician's hat, and she seemed to find it familiar. "What the hay are you doin' here?"

Trixie didn't reply. Kurt stepped to the side to block the orange one's vision of the street magician. "I need a carriage, Applejack."

"Ah ain't lendin' one to her if that's what yer askin'."

Kurt leaned forward and started whispering. Silver couldn't hear what was being said, but it made Applejack laugh her flank off.

"Hoo! Right you are, Kurt," She rose and pushed her way out of the lower door, "Come along. Ah've got jus' the thing.

She glowered at Trixie as she beckoned the trio along.

More trotting. Silver was under the impression that they were in a hurry, and almost felt annoyed. Why weren't they getting this done as quickly as possible? There had to be more coming.

"Is it true what ah heard?" Applejack asked, "Twilight was attacked?"

Kurt nodded.

"And the ones who attacked her work for the Queen?"

Again, Kurt nodded.

"Seems kinda silly," she commented, "But then again, I'm not the one pulling the Great and Powerful Trixie along." Silver detected obvious sarcasm at the mention of Trixie's pseudonym.

Again, Trixie didn't respond.

Silver honestly didn't know what to say. In all honesty, he never really got to know the street magician. What he did see was a pony filled with regret. Suddenly he realised that her last time in Ponyville was the source of that regret.

Silver patted a hoof onto Trixie's back, "Hey. What's passed is past." Applejack gave the scriptwriter a look he could only describe as 'Do you even know what you're doing?'

Words weren't exchanged. As Kurt and Trixie made preparations, Silver got to speak with Applejack alone.

"What exactly did she do?" Silver asked.

"She's not a bad pony, per-say," the farm mare admitted, "She's jus' got an ego the size of Equestria."

Silver huffed in amusement, with a smile he said, "I know that type. I know that type too well."

Both looked at the giant and the street magician. They appeared to be conversing with each other. "I know worse," Silver finished.

Applejack gave the scriptwriter that same look once more. She seemed unusually used to that expression. Silver wondered what she goes through every day.

He started wondering about the farm life. It was never something he really experienced. Something in his gut started suggesting he should try one of these days.

"Who would that be?" the farm mare asked disbelievingly.

"My boss," Silver said, not giving a darn about the ethical issues that come with slander. Although what Applejack was doing beforehand was really the same thing- except right in front of a regretful pony.

Though the scriptwriter did admit that Trixie always had a hoof on the nerves of himself and possibly Kurt. It's not as prominent as what this farm mare bade it out to be, however.

"Yer boss?"

"Yeah, Sydney, the Big Cheese of Mountain Peak Films."

"Never heard of it," Applejack replied.

"You watch movies often?"

The farm mare shook her head.

"How about The Last Earth Pony, or The Wonderbolt?"

"The Wonderbolt?" she asked, "Sounds like somethin' Rainbow Dash would watch."

Suddenly the harsh displacement of air reached the scriptwriter's ears. Something was approaching at a speed nearing that of sound itself.

A cyan pegasus with a rainbow-patterned mane and tail landed and trotted up to the duo. "Did someone say Wonderbolt?"

The pegasus stopped as she spotted Trixie. Kurt glanced between the two and immediately stepped between them.

"What is she doing here?" the pegasus asked in a rather soft, yet harsh voice.

Applejack shrugged. "She's with these two, Rainbow. Anyway, this'ere's... Shoot, I never got yer name."

"Silver Screen," the scriptwriter said.

Rainbow Dash's knees almost gave out. "The writer behind The Wonderbolt? The greatest movie of all time?!" She stifled an excited screech.

Silver felt his heart sink.

"How did you write it?" she asked, "How did you capture the mind of a pegasus?"

Silver, being a unicorn, of course never flew before. He didn't like flying.

"Research," Silver half-lied. He didn't do much research beyond studying the biology of a pegasus' flight system and magic, and talking to some pegasus neighbors in Trottingham. The story was so bland he didn't much care.

The Rainbow Dash character had the kind of twinkle in her eyes that reminded the scriptwriter of fillies and colts that stopped him on the streets of Trottingham. The faces of foals who adored The Last Earth Pony.

He hated those faces. They reminded him that being a hack got him respect.

The twinkle faded as the pegasus noticed Silver looked rather depressed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm glad you liked it," Silver lied through his teeth, but he made sure it sounded believable. "How about that cart?" he called to Kurt and Trixie.

"Cart's all ready," the burgundy giant returned, "Are we missing anything?"

"What are you writing next?" Rainbow Dash quickly asked, realising that the writer of her "greatest film of all time" was leaving soon.

Silver smiled and jokingly replied, "Can't spoil that, darling."

Somehow, he managed that smile. He had read too far into the book now. The stuff Frozen Waters had to live through... the scriptwriter wondered if he truly wanted to write this screenplay, even against the note on the first page.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash were more fascinated with the scriptwriter that they had almost forgotten that Trixie was still there for them to despise. Silver hopped onto the cart alongside Trixie and continued reading from his book.

Kurt hooked himself up to the cart with the help from the other two mares, and they were soon on their way.

Their destination was not determined yet.

Chapter 10

[PAGE 1890 - CHAPTER 10]

My eyes adjusted as I continued to climb the steep hills of the cliff I had come across. I knew this had to be it: I had finally reached land... and those damn bunyips were heckling me all the same. I managed to slay one when I could get a grip around his scrawny scaly neck. Those gryphons were damn good warriors, now that I recall my years of training with them.

The remaining bunyips learned from the mistakes of their dead comrade, and were a lot more careful with their strikes. I had been bitten by those creatures' sharpened teeth a few times now. Every hole in my hide stung as the salty water washed away my never-ending supply of blood. Despite my immortality, the blood loss and constant sting made me feel numb.

I couldn't give up. I didn't want to be bunyip food. Luna wouldn't allow it... but she wouldn't be able to find me in these depths. Nopony would... I doubt the seaponies would either.

One more shot at me like a javalin. I was lucky enough to stick a hoof out and kick the bunyip in the teeth. I didn't know what was going to happen.

Suddenly, the bunyips made screeching sounds that were muffled in the waters. I didn't dare look. I just continued the climb up to the surface. I could see the flickering sunlight piercing the many layers of water.

Does water come in layers? Maybe to those unicorn scientists who round things into sectors for those charts... those charts lesser minds could remotely comprehend. Lesser minds like my own. I'm just an earth pony who can't die.

I felt myself being picked up. Some armoured sea ponies had come to help. All they did was carry me to the surface of the ocean. Once out, I stumbled closer to the shore, and then regurgitated all of the water that had filled my insides.

"Why?" I finally asked as I turned. I did nothing for them. I didn't deserve the help. "Why did you help me?"

I turned to face a row of three armoured sea ponies. They had tridents slung over their shoulders, probably the standard weapon of a sea pony, much like armoured claws were for gryphons.

The most ornately armoured sea pony in the center of the line replied, "Though you look different to us, you desire peace. We help our kind."

I sat, and continued coughing out the sea water. Miraculously, my voice remained relatively the same.

"You are troubled," the guard continued, "Most creatures fear death. You fear life."

The three rose their right hooves as if they had such an action rehearsed. I turned my head to where they pointed.

It was the largest mountain in the world, a place Kurgan Indrik would claim as his fortress... but that rhino bastard could not own that mountain.

I turned back to them. They gave a bow. The lead guard finally said, "For problems like yours, there exists only one who can help. One who is bound to no nations, save for the very planet itself. He owes nothing, and nothing owes him. He is Equilibrium. He will help you."

At that, the three sea pony guards dove back into the sea. I finally stood up and wobbled my way away from the beach. I still had fluids to evacuate, and I had been underwater for a long time.

I then scaled the mountain. I climbed until I found an entrance even an adult dragon would have problems entering.

As I climbed, I looked back on what the sea ponies had said. Mostly they reminded me of over-dramatic opera singers from the plays I watched with Princess Luna. It all seemed... unnecessary.

Maybe it was necessary for one such as Equilibrium.

I wrote before that the mountain could've belonged to Kurgan Indrik. Such a prospect was impossible, for there already exists an inhabitant. A massive two-headed creature was in a deep slumber within the hollowed-out peak. I knew not how such a beast could get inside, or how the biggest mountain in the world could be hollowed out like this.

I didn't dare try to wake it up... but something about the creature fascinated me. There were convenient steps that led down to the ground floor of the chamber that could fill the entirety of Equestria. Like a stone, I pushed myself up the hill, only to climb down the hill once more.

I arrived at the bottom of the stairs at last, and it was then that I wasn't sure how to introduce myself.

"Excuse me," I finally decided to begin.

"Yes?" a booming, yet soothing voice resonated across the massive chamber with barely an echo. It was as if he was speaking through some kind of mind business or something.

"Are you Equilibrium?"

"Yes."

"Do you know of my plight?"

"Yes..."

"Do you say anything other than yes?"

"Yes..."

... Okay, I made that last exchange up. Some ponies gotta have fun, right?

He asked me if it really was a plight, or some curse to my existence.

"Being immortal was cool over a thousand years ago," I replied, "and I'm disturbed at the advancement of Equestria."

"Equestria," the massive beast repeated. He finally rose to his powerful wolf-like paws. The creature had two heads, and two scaly tails with live snake heads on the end.

"Yes, a society of ponies-"

"I know of Equestria. I know of the Queen who threatens the balance, who threatens Everfree Forest, who threatens all other societies on this planet."

I slowly nodded.

"Be wary of the Queen," he said, "Absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"What about you?" I asked. Surely a creature like this was powerful, if it meant almost divine worship from the sea ponies of all things.

"My power only has as much influence as what creatures care to apply. The Everfree Forest, among others like it, are places that nothing can truly rule but myself."

"Do you fear the Queen?" I asked.

"Yes..."

I stared, waiting for elaboration. I didn't think I needed to ask for it.

"She continuously moves the sun and moon at her discretion. It's not natural. It... pains me to see such things happen all for one small piece of the planet."

"I would think so."

My heart stopped- not like that would do me in anyway. I watched Equilibrium's twin heads rise to see the newcomer. I didn't need to turn. I knew that voice.

Galaxia...

"Frozen Waters?" She asked as I finally turned. Even at a distance and contrasted against the brightness of the light beyond the entrance, I could see disbelief in her eyes.

How did she remember my name? How did she recognize me? Did Luna tell her?

"I'll deal with you later," she said.

Equilibrium turned down to me once more. I started to feel a magical sensation that made my hairs stand on end.

"Don't lose your head," he said with those yellow eyes. Of all the things I've lost memory of, this image will still haunt my mind. Those eyes oozed regret.

He stepped back and puffed his serpent chest out as a challenge. He bellowed, "At least I don't turn things into sto-"

Then I found myself outside of the mountain. I shot my gaze up to the entrance I spent so long climbing up to. A violent purple light flickered from the entrance for a few seconds.

Then silence... I decided to gallop into the woods and hide. I didn't want the Queen to find me after whatever she was doing.

The mountain cracked... and cracked some more. I could see a more intense light seeping through the cracks. They were not violet. They were of every colour. The mountain then exploded. Pieces of rock soared miles into the sky. I hit the dirt near a cluster of trees. I prayed no piece would fall on top of me. Immortal or not, If I'm stuck, I'm stuck.

Eventually, everything stopped. I rose my head from my makeshift cover and looked back at the mountain.

Pieces were still falling, but the mountain was very much a crater now... What had Galaxia done?

There was nothing left... I didn't get the answers I wanted... She made sure of that somehow.

"Frozen?" The Queen called. She couldn't find me. I didn't dare speak up. I instead nestled myself deeper in my cover. "Frozen!" she called again. "Luna is waiting for you!"

I almost wanted to respond... She promised to take me back... and she also saved me a long time ago...

You know, I just realised... I've been holding a pretty excellent memory of my life, despite what I said before- on how my memories were becoming faulty... I think I'm just remembering them again as I write... That must happen to writers, I guess...

Against my better judgment, I rose from my cover. "Galaxia!" I called.

"Frozen," she soared down and landed a few meters away, "What are you doing here?"

I told her the truth. I was traveling.

"Luna misses you," She replied. She appeared to ignore her handiwork entirely.

"What about Equilibrium?" I asked, "What the heck did you do to him?"

"You should know better than to mention what has happened here," She said, "This is for the betterment of all ponies."

I stared in disbelief. Wouldn't you, dear reader?

"But..."

The Queen's eyes looked the same... I honestly couldn't come up with a description for them until now: Focused.

She had blinders on. I never noticed because they aren't the physical kind our marathon runners wear.

She did this for ponies. She attacked my zebra family of twenty years for ponies. She brought down the hammer on the rhinos for ponies. She peeved off the gryphons for ponies.

What more would she do? Is Luna safe?

Queen Galaxia was... kind enough... to bring me home. For the first time since the war, I feared death... or something worse than death. It was something... that I feared...

She just murdered Equilibrium itself... What else could she do?

Two days out from Ponyville. The only thing Silver consumed was a rationed can of sweetgrass. He was far too busy reading.

Trixie was asleep. Earlier, she had been practicing some kind of precision magic with ropes. She tied every knot Silver figured was possible. It had to come in handy more than once in the street magician's life.

The scriptwriter started thinking of a character whose special gimmick was knots, and how he utilized said talent to outwit and outlast an entire team of gryphons or rhinos or something.

How would anypony get rhino actors, anyway? he asked himself.

He had reached the six thousandth page. The more he head, the more he wanted to just stop... but he couldn't. It was too late. He had read about some utter horrors that had to be true. Even if they weren't true, they would've made for a most excellent drama.

But what would Sydney say? He hates not antagonizing gryphons up to the point where even more ponies than Gold were getting sick of it. Maybe with Gold's help, the scriptwriter could write and produce it himself. Sydney would eat his words when this story became a smash hit.

Kurt hadn't stopped his light gallop throughout the entire trek. He was still awake, shockingly.

"Can't you sleep?" Silver asked.

"Don't need to," Kurt replied, "I assume Frozen wrote about that."

Silver nodded, but the fighting pony didn't see it.

"Page six thousand now."

"Any new developments?"

"It's gonna be hard to get sleep," the scriptwriter replied. He closed his eyes regardless of the disturbing information he was receiving. "How do you know it's all true, anyway?"

"Kurgan knew," Kurt replied, "When I woke up after finishing him off, I felt that I knew things that I didn't know before. I suddenly had knowledge of rhino culture. Well, bits and pieces-"

"Wait, wait," Silver interrupted, "You killed Kurgan Indrik?"

"Yeah," Kurt replied.

"How?"

"Knowing Frozen, he'd want to know as well," Kurt replied, "Nothing was ever meant to live for thousands of years."

Silver finally got some shut-eye. When he woke up, Trixie was also awake, and Kurt still never slept yet.

"What do you think it all means?" The street magician asked.

"What-now?" Silver asked.

"I think it's some effort to defend some last will the Queen left behind," Kurt replied, "I guess to figure that out, we need to figure out how she died in the first place."

"Is that why you went after this book?" Trixie asked.

"Yes."

"But the Queen's been gone since before the Gryphon Conflict," Trixie said.

"Seriously? That long?" Silver asked, "How are there still these ponies in suits around?"

Kurt shrugged, "Whatever the case, we need that book read. I'm heading towards Canterlot."

"Canterlot?" Trixie blurted, "Are you insane? That's where they came from!"

"I know the Royal Guard, they're not with the ponies that are after us. They can keep you safe. Just tell them your names and that you're looking for Princess Celestia."

"Something tells me you're not coming with us," Silver commented.

"Correct. I can't go back there, not for Kaia, or Cor or anyone," Kurt replied. Silver easily timed the beat between the dialogue. "I made a promise."

"That doesn't mean I'm opting out entirely," the giant continued, "With you two safe, I can move at my own pace and find where these ponies came from."

The trees hanging over the path began to part. The mountain Canterlot sat upon filled the opening vista. Kurt then stopped before the very edge of the trees. He turned to the duo and gestured to the mountain city.

"Here's where we split," Kurt said.

"Suddenly I wonder what your purpose in all this really is," Silver said.

"What do you mean?" Trixie asked.

"You want to kill Frozen; it can't be for mercy."

Kurt's brows rose in surprise. He sputtered his response. "What? How'd you figure that out? Are you insane?"

Silver gave Kurt an unamused expression. "Nothing was ever meant to live for thousands of years, you said so yourself."

Kurt then nodded. "Yeah... but you've been reading his diary."

"That's irrelevant," Silver replied, "Emotions can't be assumed through text."

Kurt didn't reply- a typical response of what was ultimately a meathead. He turned back to the path in front and continued pulling that carriage.

Silver turned to Trixie and held a hoof out in a gentlemanly gesture toward the mountain city of Canterlot.

As Trixie left for the gate, Silver heard a rustle in the nearby brush- near the Everfree Forest, where Kurt had probably gone.

"Kurt?"

Blunt force made contact with Silver's head. He never got to call for Trixie.

Chapter 11

[PAGE 3825 - CHAPTER 11]

He struck while Galaxia was elsewhere. The sheer chaos blasted through the peace-loving society we had been building for a couple thousand years now. It was a beast that had a name: Discord.

I met him once. He and I met on the field of battle. Myself and a team of scouts whose purpose was to determine the creature's location while Celestia and Luna prepared the most powerful magic that Galaxia had gotten once upon a time.

From Equilibrium, the Queen harvested what we now know as the Elements of Harmony. Relics of idealism to some, powerful weapons in the hands of the worthy.

He struck like a hail of arrows. The torment he put on my comrades before destroying them entirely... It was horrible.

I was the last one. He turned to me, and charged.

I braced myself... but nothing happened.

He stopped.

"Frozen Waters," the chaos-based creature said. I knew the voice; it was as familiar as if my own father had come back to life and ask me if I wanted to play catch.

"Equilibrium." In all honesty, I couldn't believe it either.

"I have no quarrel with you... Rather, I was trying to tell you something." He looked regretful. "I don't remember..." he confessed. "That part of me is gone... I need them back-"

"Discord!" Celestia's soothing voice shouted.

Equilibrium- No, Discord- looked up at the sisters who stood before Discord in the place of the Queen.

"Ah, the little apples approacheth," Discord cackled, "You don't know what power you wield against me..."

Alas, Discord's reign had ended. He seemed to know it. After realising what had happened, I knew it as well. Both the royal sisters charged the magic in their horns. The Elements of Harmony were used as magnifiers of power, they both fired twin rainbows at Discord.

I flashed back to the destroyed mountain of Equilibrium.

"Frozen..." Discord pained himself to say as his skin turned to stone, "We are brothers..."

Kurgan's voice all of a sudden. I felt blinded as the spell completed. Discord's petrified body slammed into the dirt in front of me.

"Frozen!" Luna shouted as she pounced to me. "It's over!"

She was beautiful... but it's hard to look toward the future when it resembles the horrors from our darkest nightmares.

The night they finally erected Discord's remains as an almost twisted reminder to all ponies. The remains meant that this utopia was threatened by all fronts... Utter lies, says I. Utter lies, knows I. The only things that attacked first were the Rhinos. The only things that ever attacked first were the Rhinos.

"Frozen," she said one day, about five years since the Queen got back. Luna and I lay together on the hill where we first met. We both watched the evening pass over us. We watched the dome interior turn as slow as it does.

Deep down, I was afraid... The Queen just finished off Equilibrium. "Yes, Luna?" I asked.

"Are you the only one who enjoys the night?"

I couldn't answer that. Ponies hadn't developed a fad for night clubs yet. Everypony needed to sleep. What about the ponies whose jobs could only be performed at night? Do they crave the day? The only ponies who seemed to remain awake these days are dead hour shift royal guards.

There's only one aspect of the night I don't like, and that's the risk of accidentally waking up another pony with my activities. I may be immortal, but that doesn't mean I can be a rude jackass.

"I want more to see this," she said.

I replied, "There's not much to do in the night time, but that can change."

"How?"

"Fads," I suggested, "Adding things that somepony can do in the night time."

"Isn't the view of the stars enough?" She asked.

I told her about how simple life was back when we just beat the rhinos. Everypony was concentrating on reconstruction, barely any play. It was all an effort to develop the utopia we live in today.

That's what this kind of society takes: sacrifice. We bled on our tools as we finally get blocks in place. Pegasi flapped their wings until unconsciousness from exhaustion. Unicorns use their magic until entirely pooped.

We didn't build Equestria in a day. We're still building Equestria to this day, dear reader.

"Is that why mother visited the Zebras?" She suddenly asked as I was telling her about the initial build of Canterlot City.

My heart stopped. How did she know about the Zebras?

"Mother said she discovered natural medicines with help from the Zebras."

"This bothers you?" I asked.

"It doesn't seem right to me. Mother never was the kind of pony who's used to peaceful negotiations," Luna replied.

I paused for a second... Should I tell her the truth? Maybe she could spread the word before Galaxia cracked down. Celestia and Luna were old enough to take the place of the Queen if ponies everywhere made an outcry. The Discord incident proved that! What would that do to society?

I agreed, however: her method of getting me out was not to try to strike a deal with Kurgan Indrik. She brought down the power of the Celestia-damned sun!

I told her. I told her about the zebras I lived with for twenty years, I told her of Equilibrium and how Discord came into being. I knew I was threatened not to spill, but I didn't care anymore. My dear Luna definitely took it kindly... sarcasm does not work in the written word.

I couldn't stop her at this point. She's a winged unicorn, and I'm a battle-scarred earth pony. With a quick peck on the cheek, she flew off to Canterlot.

I couldn't stop her... I should have stopped her, but I couldn't.

Silver stood atop the stage of the Broncos. Everypony was applauding.

"Congratulations on winning Best Picture with your piece, The Exegesis of Frozen Waters," a familiar elderly pony said. The scriptwriter turned his head to see the face of the very stallion who turned the film industry into a competitive art form: Augustus Bronco.

"Tell us, how did you come up with such an entertaining fable full of life lessons and the most interesting speculative fiction since your last written masterpiece, The Last Earth Pony?"

Silver cringed at the mention of his most overrated script, but he maintained composure and told the truth. "I didn't. It's not fiction."

"Nonsense!" Augustus called with a smile, "But you are an excellent joker. Have you ever thought about writing comedy?"

Silver blinked. Something didn't feel right. "No... I find comedy easy to write, but difficult to write well... but I'm serious, Frozen Waters was a real pony."

"You certainly show your comedic chops, Silver!" he replied.

"Silv! Bro!" Gold galloped onto the stage and wrapped a foreleg around the scriptwriter's shoulder. "Come on, you can't possibly expect anyone to believe that that wild epic full of plotholes can't be fiction."

"But it's real!" Silver replied, "Kurt told me it was real!"

Ponies in suits faded in from nothingness. "Kurt is dead, Silver. We killed him and that Trixie friend too. You know how to kill them, don't you?"

Silver tried to reply, but he felt his tongue had suddenly swelled up and clogged his throat. He gagged in a vain attempt to get air down to his lungs.

"Silver! Greatest scriptwriter in the world! He is also a lunatic! He should be locked away. He's too insane to be a pony." Augustus Bronco announced like a soap box preacher.

Everything started moving in fast-forward. Silver could only watch between what slivers of air he could sneak through the swollen tongue. He watched everything turn to dust and crumble into nothingness.

"Lunacy and Genius are synonymous in art! Silver is the greatest writer in the universe! Hahahahahahhah HAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAA!!!!"

The building suddenly collapsed into dust. Silver barely remained atop what he could only recognize as a faded, decimated stage.

Then he could breathe again. He looked up as he gasped for fresh breath. An ice-coloured pony stood where the entrance to the amphitheater used to be.

"Frozen Waters?" Silver asked.

There was no face. The pony trotted down the sands and dust until stopping before the stage.

"Frozen! Is it all true?"

"Get up, Silver!" the faceless creature shouted.

"Wha-"

"Get the hell up!!"

Silver's eyes shot open. His heart was pumping at a dangerously high level- especially for a pony of his comparable health.

The wall in front of him was a dug-out cavern wall, with really reflective stones giving the majority of what little light was brought into the room. It was a cell, and the scriptwriter had no idea where he was.

He felt no akubra on his head. It was gone, probably dropped by mistake, or stolen. Frozen wasn't sure.

"About time," a battle-scarred pony said as he held a thick steel door open. "Welcome to your home for the rest of your life. Nopony knows you're really here; We've taken care of everything. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts... or at least until we deem you unable to compromise all ponydom has been trying to accomplish for thousands of years."

He huffed, and added, "Besides... a hack scriptwriter isn't going to be missed."

The door slammed, flooding the rather large cell in darkness. The only light came from a cheap flickering desk lamp atop a metal box that was missing two sides to allow a chair to be tucked inside. There were two cots on opposing sides of the far room.

There was another pony in the cell. Silver stood up and approached the pony.

It's coat and mane were both a bright cyan, akin to ice. Silver looked at the pony's head and said "Hello?"

The head turned. The face was an abomination by pony standards. The eyes were hollow and dead, but they darted around the scriptwriter's features, as if the pony was not in fact blind.

Silver then noticed how defined the pony's features were. It was an earth pony with a physique that appeared to almost rival Kurt's once upon a time.

Even with all that and the thing's horribly jaded eyes, there were little to no wrinkles. This pony barely looked like he'd be seen in a Manehattan night club. "Silver?" he asked, squinting as he stared at the scriptwriter's mane.

"You're Frozen Waters, aren't you?"

The pony nodded slowly, then looked to Silver's side. "No," he wheezed through a dehydrated throat. "Oh Luna, no!"

Silver glanced to his side. His saddlebags were still there, Along with the book. He then paused, "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"No, it can't be you. Silver's been dead for a century," the dried-out pony commented.

"Wait, you mean my great grandfather Silver Mane?" the scriptwriter asked.

"Hell of a pony, that one," he replied, "But you look like him... What do you do?"

"I write," Silver replied.

"Nothing like the strong silver miner your great grandaddy was, eh?" Frozen coughed as a form of decayed laughter. "I'm sorry, my mind's been going..."

"I figured, reading your book."

"Yes... the book... I left it for him to protect... How did I do that again? Something about vents... lots of vents, before I was moved to this cell."

"Look, Frozen," Silver said, "There's gotta be a way out. You're immortal, right? You must have figured out a way."

"These servants of the monster are too good, and they pass their genes on well."

"But you can outlast them."

"Well, maybe... but can you?"

Silver stopped, and sighed.

"How far are you in it?" Frozen asked.

"About page 6000-something."

"Well, my advice is you make the most of what time you have left," Frozen said, "Chances are, they'll let you die here and let me suffer the agony of your rotting corpse."

Silver stared at the immortal in disbelief.

"Heh heh," Frozen continued, "That weren't a joke, though..."

The scriptwriter looked to the steel door, and his hopes for life were over. Sydney had proved a ridiculous barrier between Silver and his goals... but this door.

Silver didn't even know what time it was.

He pulled up the chair and placed the giant tome atop the desk. He stared at the cover for a full five seconds before prying the pages open and returning to his marked page.

As he read, he heard Frozen Waters crying.

"What's wrong?" Silver asked.

"It's nothing," he replied between sobs.

"It's always nothing," Silver commented. He tried to read, but his mind was too embroiled on other topics. For instance: illusion magic.

Real illusions, like a dream. Silver recalled the conversation with his older brother before the will reading. Eventually, Silver turned to the empty cot.

"Sweet dreams," Frozen joked.

"Says the one who can't," Silver retorted as he managed to refocus his mind back on the book.

As he read, a tiny slot in the door opened, and something... well, something slid through on a bowl.

"Food?" Frozen asked, "I haven't smelled a remotely related smell for a century."

"I guess it's for me then," Silver replied as he lifted the bowl with his magic. He hovered the makeshift meal to the immortal.

"You'd think immortality came at a price, like everything tasting like ash or something," Frozen commented before he picked out a piece of... whatever the hell the stuff was. It looked like dried balls of sweetgrass.

Silver brought the bowl to the desk and took one himself. By Celestia, the taste was that of a dried grape, minus the sugar, or general taste, and a texture three times as worse.

"I spoke too soon," Frozen laughed after he spat out the rancid piece of whatever it was. Silver found the laughter contagious. "But seriously, we can't have children."

Chapter 12

[PAGE 4301 - CHAPTER 12]

Luna was cursed... by Galaxia...

No one knew how Luna appeared to go insane from jealousy... but I knew.

I couldn't say now. The Queen had become too good in the eyes of the citizens. She just pushed back one more potential obstacle to her selfish goals, and I was once again alone.

Luna... I miss Luna... she was sent to the moon, and we never said goodbye. I never got to ask her...

I shouldn't have told her! I should NEVER have Celestia-damned told her!

Every night afterward, up to the day I stopped seeing the sky, I looked up to the stars every night to see if I could see her, to see if she could see me.

She was banished to the moon, reluctantly, by Celestia.

I miss her... She was gone...

That devil did this... Her own mother did this...

Some threshold in my brain had been crossed. The door closed and locked behind me. The writing was on the wall. This was the point of no return.

I made the tall order: "I will kill Galaxia. I will make her bleed for all the nightmares she had inflicted upon every innocent creature inside and outside Equestria!"

And so... I returned to Elasmotheria. I arrived at Lefaya Massif. The Rhino gate guards pointed their massive tusks at me, rearing to charge.

I told them my name. I told them I wished to see Kurgan Indrik.

[PAGE 7511]

I could have asked why the Rhinos attacked us in the first place, why they invaded Equestria and possibly caused Galaxia's psyche and sanity to deteriorate. I could've figured out why we didn't appear welcome even before Galaxia became that monster I only now knew her as.

I never asked. There was only one thing on my mind at the time. The Beast and I were in an armoury as we discussed what to do with me.

"We differ from the winged unicorns," Kurgan told me, "I have killed them before. Extended family of Galaxia, like Constellation, or King Canterlot."

The King was dead? I had the lingering suspicion. It was never made public, but his lack of presence next to the Queen made everypony wonder at least once in their lives.

I had never heard of Constellation, however. I asked him about the character.

"He has not been a concern for many years now," Kurgan replied. "The Queen's brother and the old King bled like any other pony. The problem with the winged pegasi is that they have immense magic potential- often honed- so it's difficult to get close enough to strike.

"Just tell me how I can kill Galaxia."

"Your lust for blood rivals mine," Kurgan said, "I can't have that, can I?"

"There's a time and place for preferences," I replied, "You can't get anywhere near Equestria without Galaxia finding out. I can."

"I see... What rewards do you want?"

I told him I intended to do this quest for free. I had my own reasons, and he had his own reasons to help supply me. I only needed an instrument to make this a symphony like no other.

Galaxia would die within the year. I've been alive for nearly three thousand years, and I cannot die.

I was grateful for the bastard rhino. I expected him to just up and lock me up until he found out how to kill an immortal. But no... he understood me. He and I really were brothers.

Discord as well... Equilibrium... He was immortal as well, wasn't he?

Equipped with a small, sharpened axe I could easily hide, I left with the blessing of the rhinos of all people.

"How fares my brother Kurgan, anyway?" Frozen asked.

"He's dead," Silver replied as he finished the book.

As he closed the book for the last time, the scriptwriter heard rustling. After replacing the book back inside his saddlebags, he turned to see the immortal's eyes wide as dinner plates. The face was of genuine surprise, but Silver would remember it as the stuff of nightmares. "Dead?" Frozen asked. "No, that can't be right, can it?"

"Yes, dead," Silver replied, as if Frozen appeared to forget the meaning of such a word.

"How?" The immortal asked in excitement.

"Kurt Foalington knows."

Frozen didn't appear to care to ask who Kurt Foalington was. Instead, he asked, "He never told you?"

"He never really told me anything."

"At last," he said, "Freedom... but still out of my grasp."

"You're telling me," Silver said, "No matter what I do, I can't get my true potential to be noticed."

"Potential? What, in those writings of yours, Mr. Writer?"

"Yeah," Silver replied.

"I've seen old stage productions," Frozen said, "Ponies clop and cheer at the talents of the stage, or the efforts of the director or techies."

The scriptwriter knew where this was going.

"Never once was the writer credited."

Silver refrained from internally cringing, but his mind screamed for him to at least shed a tear. That was a cruel jab right there... but it was true.

"But things can change! If I can get my magnum opus don-"

"That's what they all say. Do it or not, they made no difference."

"But what about The Birth of Equestria?"

"That's only a couple hundred years old," Frozen replied, "Primarily based on Galaxia's memories."

Silver nodded slowly. Given how much he had read in the tome, he was willing to suspect the old Queen wasn't truly benevolent. Even if Frozen did admit within the first page that he was going mad.

Though even now, the immortal seemed quite level-headed and sane. Perhaps he was wrong.

"You've missed a lot over the years," Silver said, "Kurgan's dead, Princess Luna is back, the Elements of Harmony have new wielders no-"

"Luna? My darling Luna?" Frozen asked.

"Yeah, just recently."

Frozen's face suddenly filled with warmth. "Luna... I've got to see her again..."

Silver watched as the earth pony clambered out of the cot. He raised a brow as Frozen approached the massive metal door. He then cringed in pain and covered his ears.

Frozen had started bucking at the door.

"Luna's Socks Almighty!" Silver shouted, but that was drowned out by the repeated clanging.

"Luna!" Frozen shouted as if he was in a trance, "Luna! I'm coming!"

Silver watched as the earth pony relentlessly beat at the door. Dents formed, but they were miniscule in comparison to the door itself.

"You will stop hitting the door or we'll come in there and hit you!" A guard on the other side shouted.

Frozen didn't stop. He continued to blather about how much he missed his darling Luna.

Silver glanced at the beds, and used his magic to pick up the cot mattresses. He pulled off the covers for the two mattresses, and readied them both.

The guard continued shouting before he emitted a loud, frustrated "Gah." Then the door itself started clicking. Silver figured they were the mechanisms of the complex-sounding lock.

The door opened, and two guards poured in.

Silver used his magic to shove the mattress covers over the heads of the guards. In the confusion, Frozen bucked both of them in the face.

The scriptwriter smiled. This was turning into a handsome prison break.

"Luna!" Frozen shouted as he turned to his handiwork. The third guard began to shout for reinforcements.

Silver spotted the immortal loot the two knocked-out guards of their weapons and charged out. Frozen still shouted for Luna.

Reluctantly, Silver followed. He used his magic to pick up a side blade that the immortal left behind. The scriptwriter glanced out of his cell, and he saw Frozen getting his flank handed to him.

That battle-scarred pegasus from earlier was tossing the immortal around like a beanbag chair. The prison break didn't look so handsome anymore.

"It's unfortunate we never figured out how Foalington killed Kurgan exactly, otherwise I'd have finished you months ago," the lead guard growled.

Frozen didn't shut up about Luna. He still got up and charged at the scarred one- who did nothing but parry and strike with a security club. Frozen still wouldn't shut up.

Silver took this opportunity to book it. The guards appeared to be concentrated on the immortal, so maybe the scriptwriter had a chance. Somepony somewhere had to at least hear the commotion, right? Silver galloped as fast as his rather unfit body could go. He thought he had a chance at-first, but then he rounded a corder.

There were more guards, and they stared right at the scriptwriter.

Silver cursed and high-tailed it in the opposite direction, suddenly reminded of the script he wrote before- the latest one rejected by Sydney. The gryphon character rounded a corner, and a bunch of wyvern underlings were lying in wait.

The scriptwriter was reminded of how much he hated wyverns, more than Sydney hated gryphons.

How did the gryphon escape, however? Silver remembered that wings weren't involved. He shot a glance around for something; anything that could serve as an escape plan. A vent, another hallway. There was nothing. This place was solid as a mountain core... well, not the one Equilibrium once lived in.

There was a sudden rumbling noise, which forced the wyvern-esque guards to stop in their tracks. All of them wore confused expressions. The faces appeared to be the kind these ponies were not used to.

There was shouting on the far end of the hallway. All the guards glanced at each other then back at the screenplay writer.

Silver booked it back to Frozen's position, but he was tackled by two of the guards. As he attempted to resist against the physically superior pegasus and unicorn, the shouting continued and became more prominent.

"Intruder!"

Silver swung his hooves pathetically. He was never trained to fight. He was only knowledgeable in the show business kind of fighting. The kind that looks awesome on the camera. By knowledgeable, he only knew the theory, not the practice.

The two guards easily pinned him down and locked his hooves behind his back. It hurt... a lot. Nothing snapped, but Silver was very much in pain. They rose the scriptwriter onto his hind hooves and produced blades. The scriptwriter's pulse started to race. This felt like a hostage strategy being employed right before his eyes.

The shouting continued, but became more prominent. On the far end of the football field-length corridor, Silver could spot ponies launched high into the far wall, only to drop down in a crumpled mess.

Then there was a battle cry, a howl Silver hadn't heard before. The voice was still familiar.

How did Kurt get here? the scriptwriter wondered.

The massive burgundy pony looked humongous even compared to the well-equipped guards that massed upon him. Silver watched as the two guards that held him softly planted the tips of their blades around the scriptwriter's neck.

This time, Silver could figure out a way to describe the carnage. It was beautiful in its design. The beast's body was well-practiced, easily unclipping sections of armour off his enemies so he could steal them and use them against the guards. Namely blades, where he swiftly stabbed them in vital places.

Silver was used to murder. He had written stories that contained them.

This one pony attempted to pounce on Kurt to stab a blade into the burgundy giant's spine. Despite the scars, Kurt was also remarkably fast. He grabbed the pony in mid-air by slamming his hooves in what Silver assumed are pressure points, and threw the pony against the wall.

After plowing through the last of them, Kurt stepped over the crumpled remnants of the foes he bested. He then spotted the two guards and Silver.

"Don't make us do this, Kurt!" the guard to Silver's left shouted.

"Celestia knows," Kurt announced, "She knows about this place."

"We're calling that bluff. You think your darling princess is going to believe a pony of your reputation?"

"No, but she believes her star student," Kurt replied, "I had Twilight send a letter."

The two guards tensed up. Silver could feel the blades poke a little harder. He didn't feel any blood draw... yet.

"Twilight Sparkle," the right guard muttered, "I told him we should've disposed of her."

"Now let the scriptwriter go, and face the consequences of your crimes," Kurt said rather calmly, despite the fact he just broke an entire hallway full of ponies.

"No, this is still a bluff." One said.

"Playing Guard again? Aren't you their most wanted?"

Kurt didn't reply. He only inched closer. The guards responded by pulling Silver back.

"That's enough," a hardened voice behind Silver said. The scriptwriter knew it was the voice of that one pony who was beating down Frozen Waters.

The guards eased the poking of their blades as they looked to their commander. "Sir?"

"I'll get this one in a cell as well, don't you worry."

Silver's brow furrowed. Kurt just murdered what he assumed was half of this floor. What did that random guy have a chance? Even if the guy did beat Frozen Waters, the immortal in question seemed really out of practice, and Frozen's eyes clearly screamed madness. Besting that one was a cinch.

This other immortal killed Kurgan Indrik, often cited as the most monstrous killer that ever roamed the planet.

Frozen felt a tug from the two guards, and he was led back to his cell, where he was thrown in.

The metal door slammed behind the scriptwriter. He stood and looked to Frozen's cot.

The immortal lay battered, bruised, and barely breathing. Apparently he spent all the energy in the entirety of Equestria trying to fight that big one.

A commotion erupted from beyond the door. The noises were the slamming of hooves upon hides, and shouts of agony and anger.

Eventually, the sounds stopped. A few seconds later, the door opened.

Kurt was thrown in. Silver then noticed that the burgundy giant was bleeding everywhere.

"What?" Silver shouted, "But how?"

"You didn't see the wounds?" the pegasus captain asked, "For a scriptwriter, you really don't look that well into details." He then turned to Kurt's sorry heap and added, "You're really out of practice if you could get hit that many times, kid."

He then slammed the door shut. There was more shouting beyond the door. Among the shouts was talk about clearing out... and then there was silence.

Kurt lay bleeding. He groaned in agony. Silver watched this display and felt he had it easy, only being threatened at knife-point by two guards who refused to kill.

Silver could do nothing but watch as the immortal's regeneration started to become more apparent. The bleeding stopped surprisingly quickly. There was a sudden snapping noise, which forced Kurt's back to snap straight.

"Ah, that's the stuff," Kurt muttered in ecstasy.

"He got your spine?" Silver asked.

"I'd prefer you don't know how he got me that way," Kurt replied as his quivering muscular legs pushed him onto his hooves in full. The giant then spotted Frozen Waters. "Is that...?"

Silver nodded. Kurt approached the other immortal.

Frozen opened one eye and spotted Kurt. "Kurgan? Is that you?" he asked.

"Kurgan's dead," Kurt replied.

"No... You have to be Kurgan. I see his spark in your eyes." Frozen weakly rose his head so he could see the scriptwriter. After lowering his head again, he said, "You must be Kurt."

Kurt nodded. The wounds slowly mended back together, as if they never happened.

"How did you do it?"

Kurt made a gesture. He slashed across his neck with his hoof.

"That simple..." Frozen lost all tension in his muscles at the new knowledge.

"I can do it painlessly if I had a blade handy," Kurt said.

"No," Frozen replied, "At first, I wanted to go... but Luna's back. I need to see her..."

"You've gone mad, Frozen. Your book proves it."

"I wrote that crap a century ago," Frozen replied. "It's obsolete."

Silver huffed with a smile. "Told you, meat-head."

Kurt shot a glare.

"Do the guards know?" Frozen asked as he copied that neck-slashing gesture.

The meat-head shook his head.

"Of course they wouldn't. Otherwise I'd have been executed a long time ago."

Kurt stepped toward the far wall and sat down. Silver hopped onto his cot and pondered the next move.

"So what's the plan, young'uns?" Frozen asked.

Silver still thought about the comment beforehand; the one about how the book was obsolete.

Chapter 13

[PAGE 8012 - CHAPTER 13]

For once in my life, I felt entirely devoted to a single objective. My mind had real focus. There were no distractions. It was a state of Nirvana by itself. Everything I had experienced had culminated to this moment.

And I did it. In the middle of the night after the celebration of victory against the gryphons, I did it. I finally made the strike that would terminate the life of Queen Galaxia. I twisted the blade that forced the blood frothing from her neck. It was Celestia-damned glorious.

I continued to strike the tyrant with my axe. Each and every strike was for a zebra, or a gryphon, or some creature that she had brought suffering upon just to bolster her own idea of a society. Her screaming was drowned by the fluids that filled her throat... Oh jeez, I'm getting sick just describing it... But I didn't get sick then. I was devoted at the time. The deeper psychological impact of the image was not on my mind at the time.

Justice needed to be served, and I was the only one who could do it. I was the only one doing it. I was doing it.

I... apologize for describing it to you, dear reader... Not all of us are born warriors, or used to being warriors...

I viewed my handiwork. After enough strikes, I had severed it completely, and had taken a few extra strikes to tear into her now-stained pillows.

My bloodlust vanished before the guards burst in. I gave up without a fight. My quarrel was not with them, and I had assassinated their queen. Their horrendous, ugly tyrant of a queen swallowed her crimson... um, pride...

I care not who gets their hooves on this book. Maybe some Manehattanites on vacation would come across the book... I care not... My mission in life is over. I now live in this cell deep beneath the Canterlot mountain. The entire place is cold, and full of ponies Celestia herself never knew about.

They tried to kill me down there... but I had become numb to pain over the years. They were given no satisfaction.

The ponies in here all wore tuxedos and shades... they didn't work for Celestia... they worked for the late Queen. Like robots, they manage the last will of Galaxia... whatever said last will may be. They would want to find this book...

Don't ever let them get this book.

Please, dear reader: don't ever let them get this book. Equestria deserves to know. I'm alone. I am in a world of solitary horrors and despair, but I feel no pain. I am alive... and I am not afraid.

May we meet someday, dear reader.

Frozen Waters.

Silver asked Frozen about the last page, and asked him what made him change, exactly.

Frozen replied. "The guards told me she wanted nothing more than to bring us to a state of real peace. The apotheosis of pony civilization, to the point where... characters like them were no longer needed."

"Didn't seem to stop them when we did."

"That's because we didn't. We're not even sure what this 'apotheosis' really is, or how we'd know if it came. But Galaxia... She cared not about herself, but for her subjects. Admittedly, she became mad in her desires for that prosperity- but In hindsight, it made sense... and I murdered her... I wrote about it. I bragged about it. I even managed to get it out to a good friend at the time... And now you have it, and it's with the rest of them now."

"So you don't care about the book."

"Nope," Frozen replied.

"Well, if I had the chance, I'd write a screenplay for an adaptation. It's pretty inspiring."

"That's very flattering, but the key word in what you just said is If."

Silver also wondered why exactly his parents left the book in the safe... or not destroy the book in general. Was it too precious a historical account? Was it for safekeeping for a future purpose?

Kurt stood up and stretched his neck. He then approached the metal door.

"Kurt?" Silver asked.

"You might want to plug your ears," Kurt said.

Silver did so rather reluctantly. His puzzled expression cringed as Kurt swung a hoof at the door.

"Luna's Socks Almighty!" Frozen blathered as he scrambled onto his flank. The exclamation caused the immortal's voice to crack, forcing him into a short coughing fit. The door made an immense bang as Kurt's hoof slammed into it.

"Yeah, What the hell was that?" Silver yelled as his ears rang. When Frozen did it, the door didn't bang nearly as loud as this time. "You trying to bust my ears?"

"Who gives a horse's flank about your ears?" Frozen asked as he pointed a hoof at the door, "Look!"

Silver blinked and spotted what Frozen was pointing out. Where Kurt's hoof landed, a dent remained.

"Good Celestia," Silver's jaw dropped.

"Keep them closed," Kurt said before he continued the process. He reared back and swung the hoof again and again, changing between left and right and occasionally pausing for breath. No doubt the guards would be yelling, but Silver couldn't hear them. Kurt was crushing that door as if it were a few boards of dry wall.

Kurt stopped to take a longer breather. By then, cracks of light were pouring through the edges. The dents became far more prominent.

Silver started to wonder: who was a worse creature, Kurt, or Kurgan? Are they even the same thing now?

"What the buck is that?!" A guard shouted. His voice cracked in utter disbelief.

"Impossible!" that gruff pegasus guard barked, "There's no way a pony can be that strong."

Silver honestly just wanted to go home. He wanted to get away from this and be back to watching The Last Earth Pony. He wanted some form of escapism.

This feat of strength is true horror. Kurt spun around and fired both hind legs at the door like a shotgun. The crumpled metal plate buckled and blasted off its hinges.

"Rejoice!" Kurt bellowed in a form of anger unheard of by ponies, "I will break every single one of you!"

The scriptwriter wondered what kind of training the other ponies had to go through. He wondered if they had families at home, or if they even knew about what these guards were doing. Were they among the rest of society? Are they locked away for the good of secret-keeping?

Did they know that this monster of a pony was going to destroy their lives?

Silver's inspiration peaked. He had a brainwave, and he wished he had something to write on. As the carnage resumed from before, Silver started putting sentences together in his head. Actions, dialogue, prop lists, stunt descriptions, potential cast lists... He was too distracted from the bloodshed that went on outside.

Kurt was a different pony entirely when his blood boiled. Even from a distance, Silver could tell that. Working in an industry based on a visual medium, emotions stand out to him like the full moon in a star-studded sky. Imagine the kind of character he could write with such a personality, he told himself. Imagine the requirements for the actors who all audition for the role of such a... creature. It seemed perfect to give the Daring Do serials a run for their bits. Sydney would love such a character to use as a fantasy against those gryphons he hates for no discernible reason.

Then Silver remembered: ego-inflation or not, he was listening to real murder... of real ponies, ponies that dedicated themselves and sacrificed any hopes of being publicly part of the society they protect- even if their methods are as obsolete as Frozen Waters says his magnum opus was.

They probably took an oath to keep pony society from remotely tilting towards anarchy, or weakness, or any other direction that would ultimately result in destruction.

Was this really a good idea?

"Stop!" shouted an immensely powerful voice. It was distinctly feminine, but the force and resonance blew even Kurt's rage out of the water. Silver knew the voice; She had attended premiere screenings of films the scriptwriter worked on.

Princess Celestia had joined the party.

Silver snapped out of his state of environmental ignorance, and glanced outside. Frozen Waters remained standing by the door inside the cell. Kurt stood among pained ponies. Among them was an utterly fear-stricken pegasus captain.

Kurt's expression was back to that usual focused glance with those jaded eyes.

"I got Twilight's letter," Celestia said as she stepped gracefully over and around the battered bodies of guards. All that remained conscious... or alive... stared up at the monarch's daughter in terror.

"Letter?" The captain asked, "That wasn't a bluff."

"Yup," Kurt replied, "Your tyranny is over."

The pegasus captain sunk to the floor. His metal boots slid along the concrete floor until he sorrowfully sat on his flank.

"Damn," the captain only had that to say. He then turned to the Princess and said, "Your Highness... it was your mother's last will."

"My dear sister told me about what mother did," Celestia replied, "What mother made me do."

"It was for the well-being of pony society."

"The only real threat was Kurgan Indrik," Celestia spat, "Not the gryphons, or the zebras, or the seaponies, or anyone! And in case you haven't noticed, Kurgan has been gone for over a couple of months now.

She nodded towards Kurt, "The Rhinos wouldn't dare attack us again after what Sir Foalington did."

"Sir?" Kurt asked.

Silver burst out laughing, recalling this kind of scene before. "Who's also in there?" The princess asked, much to the scriptwriter's amusement.

He finally left the cell alongside Frozen.

"Silver Screen, I remembe-" Celestia's eyes widened at the sorry sight of the other immortal. She was no-doubt horrified at the look of those sunken, enormous eyes that were never fed light for what seemed like an eternity. Even after all these years, the immortal still looked distinctly young. "Frozen?" She asked breathlessly.

"Hey Tia," Frozen wheezed, "Long time no see."

"What have you done to him?" Celestia barked at the pegasus.

"Everything except kill him," the pegasus candidly replied, "But I'm sure you can do it, Kurt."

Kurt ignored the comment. "This conspiracy is over, I would imagine."

Celestia didn't nod, "Who knows. Maybe this pegasus would like to speak with myself and Shining Armour."

Kurt nodded, "Will there be anything else? I wish to continue my retirement."

The princess chuckled. It was an action Silver found rather disturbing, "No, Kurt. You don't like working for me anyway."

Kurt bowed his head with surprising respect.

"Silver Screen," Celestia said.

"Yes, your Highness?" The scriptwriter.

"I'll make sure you get home in one piece. I think you have a script to write."

Silver's eyes beamed, "You got it."

"Consider it a standing order."

The pegasus rose to protest, "But if Pony society learns the truth! Think about what could happen!"

Celestia rose a brow, "I have thought about it. It's one thing to intelligently discuss a sketchy subject. It's another thing to ignore it and not learn from it."

Kurt picked some cuffs off of one of the beaten guards and chained up the pegasus' wings and hooves. After that, he galloped off to the exit without another word.

Celestia and Frozen continued talking about lost times, while Silver had an opportunity to talk to the pegasus.

"My grandfather and parents loved Galaxia," the pegasus said.

"I don't doubt that," Silver replied, "I never met them."

"But now they'll... we'll... All of us will be seen as... criminals." The Captain's face had teared up, which looked to be a sight never seen in many years. "I don't want that."

The scriptwriter wasn't used to seeing tears... real tears, not the crocodile tears all actors learn to shed like the professionals they are. Silver glanced at the currently distracted immortal and Princess. He then leaned closer to the captain and said, "You know the play Birth of Equestria?"

"Yeah," He replied, stifling between quiet sobs.

"She wrote that, didn't she?"

The Captain nodded. "The Wendigos did it, really. She visited the faraway land the wendigos first struck. Our old homeland. The blizzards had reached the point where they would never die."

Silver figured out the rest from there. "No room for compromise, eh?"

"No. She didn't want anything like Wendigos to happen again."

"So she creates tension and hate among other creatures over the years- something the wendigos feed on?" Silver asked, "That definitely sounds like a recipe for success."

The captain simply stared at Silver, "The Rhinos attacked us without reason. That only made her more dedicated to this goal."

"Without reason?" Silver asked, not believing that for a minute.

"If there was one, we never really learned it," the captain corrected himself.

"Why not ask a Rhino who was there?"

The Captain shrugged, "The only one who'd know the reason was killed by Kurt Foalington."

Silver sighed. The trail for something good had officially run dry with the death of that monster. The rest of the story is lost.

However, after a few seconds of thinking, Silver found a new trail to pick up on.

"Frozen," he called.

The immortal turned from Celestia and looked at the scriptwriter. "What is it?"

"Why did the Rhinos attack in the first place?"

Frozen stood. Inside the gears turned, but on the outside, his expression remained un-changing. Eventually, it turned to a regretful look, and Silver's heart sank.

"I don't remember," he said, almost mirroring what Silver imagined Discord must have said, "I used to know... I think... Is it not in my book?"

Silver shook his head. "You neglected to ask when you could. Can't we could ask the Rhinos today."

Celestia answered for him. "After what Kurt did?"

Another sigh came from the scriptwriter. The captain remained cuffed up, sitting on his flank and all ready to be brought to justice. With Frozen's help, Silver carried the captain with them out of the crystal caves. Celestia accompanied them.

"What would become of me, exactly?" The captain asked.

"We won't stoop to your levels," Celestia replied, "That's all you need to know right now." The sound of disappointment was prevalent in the monarch's voice.

After they cleared the rather new-looking exit, some royal guards took the captain away from the immortal and scriptwriter. Luna stood there.

Silver looked at Frozen, who appeared to be entranced. He also noticed Frozen's legs gave way as he tried to walk forward.

"Long time no see, your Highness," Frozen wheezed.

Chapter 14

[CHAPTER 14]

"What in Equestria is this tripe?" Sydney asked, looking through the script Silver had finally finished after a month of straight work.

"It's an account of Equestrian history," Silver replied impatiently as he moved his new akubra off of his forehead., "A first-hand account, really."

"It's a whole lot of tall tales, science fiction, and utter nonsense, that's what it is. I thought I told you not to write such false crap! If this Frozen Waters guy existed, how come he's never mentioned by anypony?"

"I assure you, it's all true," Luna said as she stepped through the office door. Alongside the younger sister was Frozen Waters.

Sydney lost his mind. It was almost instinctive that he tried to bow, but he accidentally hit his head on the desk. "Princess Luna!"

"This is Frozen Waters," Silver introduced.

"Oh, so you took his name and made a fictional character from it?" Sydney asked, "I'm sure he appreciates i-"

Silver grabbed one of Sydney's trophies- one with a sharp point- and threw it into Frozen's gut- more specifically, where some vital organs are. Luna didn't seem to flinch. As the immortal dropped to the floor, Silver pulled the trophy away.

Sydney had the understandable reaction of screaming.

Frozen's pained groans faded, and he got up. The deep wound started to fade at a rapid rate, eventually vanishing entirely. Unlike the wounds long ago, the new stab left no scar.

Sydney still tried to scream, but ran out of breath to scream with. "Breathe," Luna said, trying to comfort Sydney.

"Dude! Silver! What on Equestria was that?" Sydney yelled.

Silver remained standing still with a blank expression on his face. Deep-down, he was very giddy. He turned to look out the office window to see just about everyone looking like something truly awful just happened.

Well... something did, kind of. Silver didn't feel proud about up and stabbing Frozen, but that book did take bloody forever to get through. It also indirectly resulted in being threatened, and almost killed by other ponies.

"Hey," Frozen said to the producer, "The Princess and I want to support this film."

Sydney's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Silver saw the reaction, and remembered displaying something similar when he first heard the plan two months ago. Neither of the sisters had ever given support to the production of a film in the entirety of Equestrian film history. They went to pre-screenings and premieres before, but never full-blown support.

"Alright," Sydney replied, "But... the script is horrible!"

Silver flattened his lips in annoyance. He was pretty sure Sydney was referring to the level of violence that would be shown throughout the film.

The producer continued, "And it'll be extremely difficult to work with. I mean, I don't even know how we'll get the Rhino scenes by themselves. They hate our guts almost as much as gryphons."

"It's accurate," Frozen replied, "It's fair. They can acknowledge that."

"We'll talk to them," Silver added.

Sydney sighed, "Talk to Rhinos?" he asked in utter disbelief.

Sydney repeated the phrase "Talk to Rhinos" a couple of times, each time audibly indicating he can't believe such a phrase was possible.

"It's so violent," Sydney finally said as he picked up the script with his magic, "We shouldn't put ponies through something like this."

"We've been through all that already," Frozen replied, "We are not foals."

Sydney sighed once more, and then put the script back onto his desk. "Very well," he said, "An entrepreneur is a pony who takes risks, after all. I just hope the payoff is good."

Green Light... That was all Silver could think about now. At last, something new. Now he only had a library-based pilgrimage to pull off while the film was being created.

Silver had been to grand premieres before. He'd been to every one for a film he wrote. It was part of his job, after all. The paparazzi ponies that write and photograph for those popular culture magazines like having the minds behind new developments present for anything worth noting.

For instance, the first film that received support from a winged unicorn- Princess Luna of all ponies. The latest project by the company that brought the public The Last Earth Pony and The Wonderbolt, from the revolutionary mind "Sydney." The scriptwriter gagged at the thought of some headlines in the very near future.

The theatre was packed. Mostly by cast, crew, and media. There were few faces the scriptwriter didn't recognize.

"Silv, good to see you back in the game so soon," Gold's voice reached Silver's ears.

"Gold," Silver turned to his brother- who was sitting a seat behind him, "Gonna tear this trite a new flank?"

"I make a habit to express neither excitement nor dread," Gold replied, "It helps keep me impartial and unbiased. We shall see how this film holds up."

Silver smiled and said, "Thanks, bro."

Gold didn't smile. He kept that impartial face as he said, "Anytime, bro."

The theatre milled with the assorted barely familiar faces until everypony reached their respective seats. The lights dimmed to a spot shining on the front stage next to the massive screen.

Sydney walked onto the spotlight, next to the director of the film, Clapper. They had a speech prepared, namely to sell the film on the fact that it's supported by Princess Luna. Silver clopped his hooves together with the rest of the audience when each time for applause came. He personally just wanted to see the vision he wrote reveal its life to the world for the first time.

It was a rare feeling- the kind only a select few can truly experience.

Prologue (or Chapter 0 if you want)

[PAGE 0002 - PROLOGUE]

To whoever takes the time to read the only copy of this book:

If you are a publisher, it would mean much to me if the writing is preserved in some way, shape, or form. I do not want any modifications for the sake of political correctness. My words are my own, and I don't want to take the effort to hunt you down if I find a redraft in the public eye... but I know I will in the future.

For those of you who don't know why I took the time and months to write this, here is the reason: I was bored. Who wouldn't be?

I cannot die. I'm certain I'm going insane. I've played too much chess in my mind.

Brain science, I think, works differently when your brain maintains a certain age due to immortality. My guess is that it's like a memory card for a digital camera. The older it gets, the more liable it becomes to lose information... if that makes any sense to you, dear reader.

I just realised that I'm referring to myself with machine jargon. In writing, no less, I am talking to myself.

Maybe I'm writing this because of more than boredom. Maybe I just want to get stuff in a more permanent form before it gets deleted from the proverbial file corruption...

Thousands of years worth of observation, love, and loss are contained in these unedited pages. Also within these pages are what many ponies in power would claim to be libel- but even with my growing insanity, I know they could not be the untruth.

Take from it what you will, but please don't change the underlying message... whatever the hell it really is...

... The hell's a memory card, anyway?

"This is the worst screenplay I have ever read!" The voice was that of a retired opera singer. The pitch control was not what it used to be. Instead, it served as the powerful voice of a business pony. One who was used to bellowing out words of disdain.

The loud announcement silenced the theatre. Cast and crew alike turned their gazes to the office overhanging the floor from beyond the view of the greenscreen area. Cameras were crowded in a corner, where some ponies were performing maintenance.

"Look! Be reasonable!" the timid, yet clearly frustrated voice of the target of the ranting blathered weakly. The reasonably thin indigo male looked scrawny compared to the massive gut of the loud, yellow stallion who bellowed prior. "The main character acts out for the future of his kin! That's why he tries to-"

"It's not gleeful!" shouted the bottomless-gut business pony as he rose from his large office chair, "It's tragic! It's horrifying!"

"It's interesting!" The playwright added.

"Not to me, nor to the masses!" the businesspony shouted in retort. In a motion swifter than his size implied, he shoved his snout into the face of the timid one. As he sat down, with a remotely subtle voice, he added, "Ponies want a good story, not barbarism. We left that behind years ago!"

"What of the Birth of Equestria?" The thin one asked, "That's performed every year in theatres everywhere! There is arguing and fighting in that one!"

"The Birth of Equestria is historical! A real masterpiece! Your fiction is trite!"

The thin one cringed. He was used to his stories being called trite by pompous ponies who appeared to have no idea what happens in the mind of an author. He was more bothered at the mention of 'masterpiece', used in reference to the respectable, yet commonplace story. It was good; the pony did not doubt that. It was just not fresh. It was not new.

Every year, every theatre in Equestria created a performance of that play. Every year one film studio tries their hand for the Broncos, the highest awards for filmmakers. He had seen far too many different costumes of Chancellor Puddinghead, or the loud and brash Commander Hurricane. He's seen far too many posters depicting every title that could be conceived to be synonymous with "The Birth of Equestria."

So many colons nowadays...

"Do you even know what the word trite means, sir?" the indigo pony asked.

"It means cliche, of course. Not at all fresh!"

"Then how is it that a story where the protagonist fails to achieve his goal count as not fresh, not new?"

"It's horrendous! Don't you see, Silver Screen? Ponies do not want to see failure!"

"But Sydney, the story has a moral!" The thin Silver tried to tempt, "The moral can't work unless the protagonist fails!"

"This meeting is over, Silver. Go home and get some rest. Come back with a real screenplay for a real film." The rotund Sydney spat as he sat down. With a sigh, he added, "You wrote The Last Earth Pony- a real work of a genius! I know you can do better! Think about it."

Silver sighed. His unicorn horn glowed and his book of unkempt papers floated to his side. He then trotted out of the office. As he did, the pretentious prat of a pony panned in his seat to view something he deemed more interesting, namely a bookshelf full of screenplays the leaving writer had read and seen almost as often as the Birth of Equestria.

All of those plays were exactly the same.

The scriptwriter's hooves clopped upon each step as he descended from the elevated office. All eyes watched as the indigo male unicorn made the climb of shame. Upon reaching the floor of the backstage, he was approached by one of the cast.

"If it's any comfort-" the cast member started.

"No, it's not," Silver interrupted as he trotted briskly.

The playwright approached and entered the greenroom. The walls were, like the name suggested, a blueish green; a truly calming colour. After all, that was the purpose of a greenroom: a way to relieve stress for cast and crew just by being there. Despite all appearances, trying to get the right take for an increasingly impatient floor director could shake the nerves of even the most hardened professional.

The playwright passed some cast members applying makeup for a studio shoot. Silver opened the book with his unicorn magic as he trotted. The pages magically straightened out and reorganized in a seamless fashion. After that, he dropped the book into a set of saddlebags hanging on a hook near the door. With another bout of telekinesis, Silver hoisted the bags onto his back, and nabbed his hat- a wide-brimmed akubra made of a flexible cloth.

The hat served two purposes: a rain deterrent, and a method to hide his face from the streets when feeling depressed. It was not raining today, as the indigo pony found out as he left the studio. The sun was not accompanied by anything else in the sky. The pegasi of Trottingham did their jobs well, as usual.

Silver didn't really try to think on the way home. He just wanted to rest, take his mind off of things, start writing something new, like Sydney said. The play he carried was finished and polished to a mirror shine, so nothing could really be added to it. Might as well start something new.

If only that pompous pony didn't have a big ego towards 'good stories' with 'good morals'. Silver hated a number of the scripts that pony green-lit for the stage. The Last Earth Pony is nothing but trite.

Along the way, he spotted a coffee shop. Craving something warm, Silver entered.

"How's it going?" the keeper asked as Silver removed his hat and hung it on a nearby stand.

"Not good," Silver replied as he slumped the saddlebags down around the bar stool he claimed. He then ordered a simple black coffee- no sugar or cream. He wanted something bitter to get his mind off of things.

"Why's that?" the keeper asked.

"Well, I wrote a really good script, but the big cheese refused to give it any consideration."

"Well, can't please them all," the keeper commented. Silver could tell the comments and questions were just to try to come across as being friendly for the hopes of a tip, but hell, effort was effort.

Silver sipped his coffee, then sipped again. The bitterness of the black-as-night tea filled his mind with a differently directed disgust. Ironically, he relished it; the taste kept him awake.

"What was this story about?"

"It was about a family pony whose kids got split apart in a dark castle full of nasty creatures."

The keeper cocked a brow and flattened his lips, "Doesn't sound fun."

"No, but that's the genius of it." Silver replied, "See, she teams up with a gryphon monster hunter to escape the fortress."

The keeper nodded. Silver stopped when he realised the server of coffee wasn't really listening. "Ah, forget it," the scriptwriter said.

"What else have you written?" the keeper asked.

"I wrote the screenplays for a few films," Silver replied after a gulp of the horrid stuff, "Most recently, The Wonderbolt, and The Last Earth Pony."

The keeper's eyes lit up, "No way, really?"

Silver nodded, "They're not my best works, to be honest."

"My kids love The Last Earth Pony!"

The playwright couldn't help but smile. The Last Earth Pony was a good project, to be sure. It was, however, beyond lame. A Pegasus adopts the way of the Earth Ponies after his wings were broken beyond use, and somehow achieves a greater affinity to the natural Earth magic than even the best Earth pony. The new culture gave the pegasus a convenient advantage against evil gryphons.

It was such trite, but the film was nominated for and won many awards, including four Broncos. Not one of the awards, nominated or won, was for "Best Screenplay."

Silver understood why: It was such cheese, and everypony watched for the spectacle of multiple ponies organized for an epic fight between the crippled pegasus and the fully-functioning gryphon army. The entire scene played out like borderline propaganda.

He didn't hate gryphons, unlike his producer.

After finishing his coffee, he placed an extra bit on the counter for the keeper. The keeper pocketed the bit quicker than the playwright could reclaim his bags and hat.

The streets of Trottingham were rather thin. Few carriages were used in this part of Equestria. Here, the fillies and colts often played utilizing whatever they acquired from a toy store or from the streets as props for whatever games one kid might have invented.

Every day, there was something different. Silver knew perfectly well why: he worked with a pony who wrote a story like that.

It was about a group of colts who every day of the summer would go out to a lot and play nothing but their most favourite game. Nopony kept score, nopony called fouls. All they did was have fun.

Silver was critical about it when he first read it. The conflicts that arose weren't that big a deal. Something about a massive diamond dog that served as a feared menace; but it never really did anything. He still remembered the conversation that followed.

The other scriptwriter asked, "Does the conflict have to be big?"

Silver didn't verbally reply, but his mind said "No... but it would be more interesting." The next year, he refused to eat those words when the same film became a hit among pre-stallion colts.

At last, the playwright found his home, an apartment complex further downtown. The trot really comprised of several blocks. Depending on the daily mood, the walk could take minutes, or feel like a few hours.

Silver wasn't in a perfect mood.

Chapter 4

[PAGE 0482 - CHAPTER 4]

The Rhinos kept me in pain when I was one day captured by them.

Oh what's that? I was already home? Oh yeah, that's right... there was something there. Let me see if I can remember how I got in Elasmotheria.

I think it had to do with something about Galaxia requesting I join a team of scouts to spy on the Rhinos, seeing as I was one of the only ponies who ever got up close to a Rhino and lived. She didn't appear to want to hear my side of the story. Let's face it: Winged pegaswinged unicornwinged unicorni are desperate when the safety of their underlings are on the line.

Wait, underlings isn't that good of a word... Eh, I'll think of something more dignified.

This was all done after the war, mind you. Galaxia wanted to make sure the Rhinos weren't planning anything.

The team I was a part of was myself and two others. We spent a few days training, mostly our running and stamina, anyway. No way three of us could take Elasmotherian guards, even if the odds were three to one. I got the logic. Just run like hell, as Captain Tonfa said.

Tonfa was a good stallion. He and Zany were my comrades in this assignment.

Tonfa specialised in mass telekinesis. He was a real magician, using every blade at his disposal to simultaneously stab the rhino that could have killed him. Zany was a pegasus who was downed behind enemy lines, but managed to escape. He never told me the specifics.

Or maybe I just don't remember.

My name is Frozen Waters. My name is Frozen Waters. I am an earth pony who cannot die.

We arrived in Elasmotheria a week later. More specifically, we managed to infiltrate their capital city of Lefaya Massif.

Even today, I have no idea why it's called that. I like to think it's named after a prominent matriarch. Our capital city is named after King Canterlot, anyway. Rather egotistical, I would think... I should try to remember some details on the King... Damn, nothing right now.

Anyway, we were spotted. I helped Tonfa and Zany escape, at the cost of my freedom.

They killed me- Wait, no... They tried to kill me. They couldn't. They had me tied up and bleeding in this dark room. Some bright torch light was focused onto my face, blinding my eyes. Even when my eyes were closed, I saw nothing but light.

The torment they inflicted upon me would make the entirety of the Gryphon conflict look like child's play... because it bloody was child's play! Ponies today don't know a single thing about agony.

The light finally moved away, and there stood Kurgan Indrik.

He asked me who I was... I responded. My name is Frozen Waters. I didn't care that this was the first time Kurgan spoke. In battle, he had this boastful roar that shook the planet. His voice was calming, soothing, and actually kind of sexy. This is a male pony saying this, by the way. It's the kind of voice one narrates for a Daring Do serial.

Don't be fooled by his calm demeanor. He is the epitome of evil. Anyone remember Discord? I can vouch that he too had a calming, soothing, and actually kind of sexy voice... but he was also really damn evil.

That's a story for a later chapter. Kurgan Indrik was curious as to why I wouldn't die.

"You are immortal," he finally said.

"I wouldn't know about that," I replied.

"You are Frozen Waters, and you cannot die."

I asked "What's it to you?"

"We are the same. We cannot die."

I disagreed that the very thinking, living creatures that were Kurgan Indrik and Frozen Waters were remotely the same, in any way, on this planet. I wanted to see my sister and brother again. Kurgan just wanted to kill and maim and terrorize.

"We are brothers."

I spat blood into Kurgan's face. I felt the pain of the accelerated healing starting to fade as I recovered fully.

"That was a joke," Kurgan added as he rose a massive hoof to wipe the miniscule blood spatter..

"Why keep me if I can't die?"

"Perhaps if I find out how to kill you, I can protect myself from a similar fate."

My heart skipped a beat, and Kurgan felt it. I could feel his monstrous heart do the same. Both of us were nervous... although I was not sure what Kurgan felt nervous about.

If he found such a unique method to kill an immortal, then he can create a defense against it... but then, such an addition of protection would be noticed by clever ponies, and they would find a way around said protection.

If he didn't find one, then he should be grateful. After all, if he's truly invincible, he can outlast Galaxia.

I don't quite remember how I escaped. Something about Galaxia bearing down the full force of the sun, and charring the roof of the building into nothingness. I, like the rhinos, was blinded by the intense light, and I sweat up a monsoon. Just as soon as the light erupted, I felt a tug around my abdomen, and I felt I was flying.

Oh wait, I do remember.

Zany had come with a fellow Pegasus to save me, with assistance from Galaxia herself. They carried me out as quickly as they arrived. I never saw Kurgan Indrik again. Was I worth such a risky assault? Even now, I'm not sure. Maybe Kurgan could've found a way to kill me. Maybe that would be a step toward his ultimate defeat.

I think too much.

Kurgan shouted after us. "You claim our land will burn if we attack you again! What of your actions? Your precious spies? What of what doesn't belong to you?" That was pretty excellent, that cheesy "Life is Unfair" whining from Kurgan Indrik of all things. "Another time, Waters!" he finished... and I felt a chill down my spine.

I returned home a hero... I guess... I didn't really do much. My sister had gotten married. My brother as well. Their respective special someponies were both very handsome.

I started wearing casual suits. Even with my unnatural regeneration, most scars remained. I don't think my parents wanted to see them, nor my siblings... or even their children.

Mum suggested it was time for me to find a nice filly and settle down. I replied I wanted to continue my education in Canterlot. However, I first needed to scrounge funds to pay for it.

That took me four years. I moved to the outpost of Manehattan and contributed to the construction of wooden shacks that would eventually be replaced by the skyscrapers you have today. I put together so much money by the end of it all.

Finally, a real education. Something more useful than learning how to get stabbed repeatedly.

Silver watched the train vanish over the horizon. Deep down, he hoped his coworkers would at least notice the trunks of books belonged to the scriptwriter, and would keep them safe at the studio, or something. He also hoped they would report he's missing.

Mitts patted a massive hoof onto the scriptwriter's shoulder. "Now then, how far have you gotten in that book?"

"Page a hundred and forty-three," Silver replied.

"Is there any mention of a rhino named Kurgan Indrik?"

"Frozen Waters was a deserter in that war. There's a lot of mention of that rhino."

"Anything about what Kurgan was like?" Mitts probed.

"Why? What's he to you?"

"I need to know what he knew," the burgundy one replied.

"Well I haven't read much farther even if I could," Silver moved away from Mitts. "This thing's over eight thousand pages long."

"Anything about magic?" Trixie's voice reached the other two.

Both turned to see the unicorn mare with her full garb equipped. Mitts was the first to ask, "Who in the world are you?"

Trixie almost gave the imposing powerhorse a death glare. Silver spotted it, and assumed Mitts didn't care. "Okay then," Mitts continued, "Why are you following us?"

"Boredom, mostly," Trixie replied.

"What about your luggage?" Silver asked.

The mare's response was a gesture to her cloak and hat.

Mitts sighed with the resonance of a lion. "Well, in the meantime, there will be more coming for the book," Mitts said, "Here's the deal: You read the book, and I'll make sure it won't get taken from you. Sound good?"

Silver gave Mitts an almost offended expression, "Seriously? You kind of kidnapped me."

"No I didn't," Mitts said, "I didn't force you to come with me. I didn't physically pull you off the train. That was your own doing."

Silver blinked, then planted a hoof onto his face. "Okay, what's passed is passed. What are we supposed to do now? We're on the edge of buffalo territory."

Mitts shrugged, the scriptwriter frowned. "You're kidding," Trixie flatly stated.

"Come on, we'll follow the tracks the other way," Mitts said.

Silver shrugged. He and the street magician followed the burgundy one on the tracks. As they trotted, Silver pulled the book out and hovered it in front of his face. He continued reading, and ignored everything around him.

Mitts began to gallop, followed by the scriptwriter and the street magician. Silver immediately noticed the athleticism and dexterity of the giant. Sure Mitts looked about the same size as the average guard, but that stallion was fast.

"Oi! Wait up!" Silver shouted.

Mitts immediately slowed down to a simple walk. "Sorry," he said, "I'm used to traveling alone.

The horizon was as flat as a crepe. This was fitting; the area is buffalo territory, the land between Manehattan and the distant Trottingham.

"You know what I'd love to have right now?" Silver said rather loudly as he read, "A typewriter."

"Why did you keep the book, anyway?" Mitts asked.

"What's with the book, anyway?" Trixie asked.

"It's a good read," Silver replied, "This Frozen Waters guy's got a bit of an annoying first-person style to his writing, but I never fault a story on that alone. How about you?"

"Huh?" The burgundy earth pony and the cyan unicorn asked.

"Why are you after it?" The indigo unicorn asked, "Why were those other ponies after it? I know Kurgan isn't the only thing you're looking for."

Trixie slowly nodded after realising the question was not directed to her.

"Those strangers were after it because it contains secrets Celestia would prefer burned. I'm after it because I need those secrets."

Silver pondered if why Celestia would allow it to stay intact within a safe instead of burned.

"Being an imposing brute as yourself, I find it hard to believe your intentions could be any different," Trixie quipped.

"I'll pretend you didn't say that," Mitts retorted.

"You're an immortal, aren't you?" Silver asked in a rather teasing tone.

Trixie made a verbal grunt of confusion. Mitts didn't reply; instead, he sighed.

"An immortal?" Trixie asked, "As in you can't die?"

Silver continued with a chuckle. "When'd you find out?" the playwright asked.

"A few weeks ago," Mitts replied.

"Excuse me. Trixie demands an explanation!" Trixie spat.

Mitts halted. His head turned rather slowly toward the cyan unicorn. "Did I demand your presence?" he growled, "I'm certain I didn't. Maybe you can enlighten me: why did you even come along?"

"The same reason we're all here, right?" Trixie passed the burgundy giant.

"You're also after the book?" Mitts replied as he continued trotting.

"I think she's talking about a different reason, the reason that came before the specific objective," Silver said, "We ended up here because we're bored."

Mitts huffed amusedly, juxtaposing against his annoyed expression, "Can't argue with that. I like her."

They continued trotting down the railway track until Mitts began to pick up the pace. Silver and Trixie followed suit.

"What's happening?" Trixie asked.

"This sounds like the time for an encounter with buffalo," Silver said.

"Where on Equestria do you come up with these ideas?" Mitts asked.

Silver didn't answer. He continued reading during his light gallop.

"I guess that's what scriptwriters do, even the lowly ones," Trixie said.

The trio stopped, as Silver's guess turned out to be right. Mitts muttered an expletive, while Trixie turned to face them. A herd of buffalo had arrived from the left side. They appeared to have approached out of curiosity. Before Mitts could say anything mean, or Trixie say anything egotistical, Silver took the initiative to spark conversation.

"Howdy," Silver called.

"Howdy," a buffalo returned the greeting, "What brings you ponies here?"

"We jumped the train because we were bored," Silver replied faster than a twitchy squirrel.

Trixie inched toward Mitts and whispered in his ear. Silver didn't hear it, but he figured it was something akin to an insult, or a compliment toward his immediate honesty.

"You jumped the train because you were bored," the same buffalo repeated in a fashion that implied he wasn't expecting such a swift answer in the first place.

In hindsight, Silver wondered if anypony was prepared for such an answer. He simply replied "That's correct."

The buffalo all glanced at one another. "Aren't you lost?"

"We've got the train tracks to follow," Silver replied, "We'll be fine, thank you."

As the buffalo nodded a farewell and left, Trixie and Mitts stared at the scriptwriter. Mitts had an unusual disappointed look on his face. Trixie looked confused beyond measure.

"What on Equestria was that?" Trixie asked.

Silver shrugged and returned his attention to the book. The trio resumed their trek. As the scriptwriter read, Trixie sped up the pace to trot by the burgundy giant's side. "What exactly do you do?" The street magician asked.

"I live," Mitts replied.

"What about before?"

"I was a guard."

Trixie blinked. Mitts didn't see it, but he could almost feel the unicorn's aura emitting waves of curiosity. The big earth pony sighed and added, "Honestly, I don't want to talk about it."

"The Great and Powerful Trixie demands!" she jokingly snapped. Even Silver couldn't help but barely stifle a chuckle.

"The Great and Powerful Trixie can't even defeat a manticore," Mitts barked back. That shut the cyan unicorn up instantly. In silence, Trixie slowed her pace to reach Silver's right-hand side.

"Bit of a grouch, isn't he?" the street magician asked.

"He's in his early twenties," Silver said.

Trixie flinched, "Seriously? Look how huge he is."

"Well, he did say he was a guard."

"But even for a guard."

Silver shrugged. He just wanted to read. Trixie eventually kept silent due to being distracted by all of the words.

"Who is Frozen Waters?" Trixie asked.

"From what I can tell," Silver replied, "A pony who's been around since the birth of Equestria."

Chapter 6

[PAGE 0905 - CHAPTER 6]

It's a kind of magic, I told her. Something different from what everypony possesses. Unicorns can't synthesize it, nor can Earth Ponies nor the Pegasi. I don't know where it came from, what it wants- or even if this force is even sentient. What is it, a mutation of magic?

How can magic 'mutate', anyway? Overloaded energy? Unforeseen consequences? Surges? Environmental conditions?

Now overloaded is more an overabundance of energy, not a mutation. It often leads to an explosion to dissipate the energy to safer levels. Unforeseen consequences just sounds stupid. Surges... Nah, that sounds like a dumb concept for a board game.

The only thing that makes any remote sense to me is environmental conditions, like how the Queen was born. She began her life under the flames of that symbol of harmony. I had a feeling that thing had something to do with it.

You know, no parent should have to bury their children. I was with my niece on her death bed. She wondered how I outlived my sister, my brother-in-law, and herself. Later on, I'd outlive her children, and so on and so forth.

It's like a kind of magic. Something different from what everypony possesses- Wait, I wrote this already...

You ever wonder why some ponies prefer taking the path for a pony who you cannot have children with? Like a mare with a mare, a stallion with a stallion? I've visited a society that finds that kind of choice, or "non-choice" as some of those kinds of characters told me, aren't accepted, or tolerated.

I, personally, was forced to ask: "Why care?"

When I asked one such person who supported this intolerance, he replied, "It was written."

I asked where, and he directed me to a dusty old book that appeared to be only half as old as me. Just paper and a cardboard cover. A lowly biodegradable pile of organized processed wood held the secrets and guidelines to a perfect society. The words themselves were poorly written, and the grammar was awful. I'm not even a writer and I figured that out!

I've seen B-movie adaptations of the Daring Do Adventures that made more sense than that! Luna's socks almighty!

I am aware of the irony in the previous paragraphs, dear reader. I'm just not a fan of tradition. Tradition is what brought the Windegos around. Tradition is what the Rhinos still enforce. Tradition to cannibals is still cannibalism.

Huh... Modern cannibalism... I wonder if there's a difference. Maybe with modern cannibalism, they develop more complex recipes complete with vegetables and garnish. Maybe they figured out how to make duplicates so they don't starve...

Wait... my organs regenerate... what if they found out about me and used me as a farm... Oh Celestia, why did I write this in quill and ink?

Anyway, I watched that tradition-bound society burn in what I've called 2390ACB, After Celestia's Birth. At that time, I've been alive for two and a half thousand years. That society burned. I watched it. I watched those who despised the intolerance become violent.

Nopony even knew that society existed. I don't want them to... Then why the heck did I write it down he-

Celestia grew up slowly. Galaxia still ruled for a few thousand years... I watched it all happen.

She grew old... but she remained beautiful. I grew old, I remained young.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Where was I? I was talking about same-sex marriage... I'm not sure why...

Oh yes... My niece died... I miss my family. They had either spread out too much, or they don't even know me.

It wasn't long before I was officially alone. There's a concept that had been engrained into my brain since I was first captured by the Rhinos that one time. They called it "Solitary confinement."

I miss it. At least with that cell, it was all so simple. There was just the four walls, the ceiling, the floor that was never long enough to lay down flat, the giant steel door you always think is locked, but probably isn't locked because no living thing that thinks would ever think to try the imposing door that by all means should be locked.

I should have tried the door... see where that could've gotten me.

Check that: I shouldn't have joined the war effort.

No... I shouldn't have been born.

Alas, we should never have come to Equestria.

So why did we? Fate? Well, your beloved play says you came here to escape the windigos. That doesn't sound like fate. That doesn't sound like the hand of some higher power doing the work. We found Equestria through our resilience, and because we were being menaced by a power we didn't understand at the time.

Sure the windigos would be considered a "higher power" but we overcame them and became a higher power than them. We're Ponies, damnit! We bloody adapt!!

I don't believe in fate. Fate is for lazy ponies. Fate is for egotistical rhinos! Fate is for those who don't want to think too much! I like thinking! It gets my mind off the horrible things in life! It's what's kept me in the spirit of things for the hundreds- nay, thousands of years where I was well and truly alone.

I spat in the face of fate when I left Equestria soon after the last niece who knew me died. It was a simple jaunt... but it was not short. I had all the time in the world. Might as well make the most of it.

"What is wrong with you?" Trixie repeated her shouted question a good mile out of Dodge Junction.

Mitts had finally stopped, giving the scriptwriter and street magician a chance to catch up. Silver knew perfectly well what the answer really was, but he was waiting for an answer from Mitts all the same.

"Nothing, really," Mitts replied.

"Nothing?" Trixie spat, "You just killed those ponies!"

"Incapacitated," Mitts corrected, "But I can understand the confusion."

Silver looked at Trixie, who looked all the more offended at that admittedly beautiful display of physical prowess, however unforgivable it may be.

"Who are they, anyway?" The street magician asked.

"They serve the Queen," Silver replied, "Not either Princess, but the Queen."

"How'd you figure that?" Mitts asked.

"Highness refers to a member of royalty. Majesty refers to the highest level: The King or Queen."

Mitts gave the scriptwriter a bemused look. "Okay, Mister Dictionary."

"They also mentioned the Queen directly by her title," Silver said, adding emphasis on the correct word for Trixie to hear, "Regardless, where do we go now?"

Trixie pouted in response.

"Ponyville," Mitts replied, "I know a few ponies who can help us."

"Ponyville?" Trixie asked.

"Is there a problem?" Mitts questioned as he turned his head back to the other two. The party had stopped entirely while waiting for the answer.

Trixie displayed nervousness. Silver's curiosity was piqued. What exactly did this 'Great and Powerful' Trixie have against Ponyville? It was a harmless little town full of ridiculously expensive-looking buildings. There wasn't anything to be afraid of.

He then remembered the story of the Ursa Major, and getting up-staged. Maybe something more happened. Judging by the look on the street magician's face, it seemed like something Silver shouldn't probe into.

Trixie reluctantly shook her head.

Mitts flattened his eyes in suspicion, but continued onward with the other two trotting behind.

"Isn't Ponyville right on the edge of the Everfree Forest?" Silver asked.

"That's right," Mitts replied, "Appleloosa is a few hours trot. We can take a train and lay low."

"Wouldn't they find us?" Trixie asked.

"Them in a closed space with this guy?" Silver asked to Trixie.

The street magician nodded. At that, Silver continued reading. Time was of the essence. Knowledge needs to be acquired.

Appleloosa looked brand-new. Ponies everywhere were only starting to apply finishing touches on the clock tower, and... well, every building.

"Isn't this in the middle of buffalo territory?" Silver asked to nopony in particular. In fact, nopony really heard him at all.

"We'll need to disguise ourselves, or at least lay low until the next train to Ponyville arrives," Mitts muttered as he moved closer to the other two.

"Or take a carriage," Trixie added.

"Or take a carriage," Mitts repeated. "But a train is faster."

Silver assumed the burgundy giant already knew the risks of taking a train. He also knew that Mitts was a force to be reckoned with even in an open area. The scriptwriter didn't want to imagine the annihilation in a train car.

The trio arrived on the train platform. Trixie bought some tickets, using Silver's relative abundance of spare bits, and they all awaited the train.

It looked rather rushed. The earth ponies that pulled it looked beaten, as if rammed in the sides repeatedly.

The public transport stopped rather quickly. Almost immediately making a full and complete stop, four mares barged out of a cabin, only to be met by a young, yet energetic stallion.

Silver hopped on the train, followed by the street magician. The scriptwriter looked back to see Mitts caught in a trance.

"Mitts," Silver called.

"Hm?" The giant asked as he shook his head.

"Something wrong?" Silver asked.

Mitts glanced back at the mares being shoved throughout the town, and then boarded the train.

"You know those ponies, don't you?" Silver asked as he followed Mitts through the passenger car.

Mitts didn't shake, nor nod his head, "Let's just find some empty cots."

Silver decided against prodding further, for obvious reasons. To minimize the chance of ponies randomly wandering through, they trio found a passenger car near the back.

Trixie slept like a log in her bottom-level cot. Silver clambered into the above bed and continued reading. Mitts, however, took the upper cot on the opposite side. The scriptwriter read, while the powerhouse watched out the window. Silver assumed the giant was trying to spot those mares he obviously knew.

Eventually, Silver yawned, marked the eight hundredth page, and slipped into the subconscious theatre.

He dreamed of the Broncos. He dreamed of those fancy fabric-covered circular tables, surrounded by fancy ponies in their best formal attire they would normally save for the Grand Galloping Gala. The golden statue of the great filmmaker Bronco Shooter hovered next to the scriptwriter as he stood in the dead center of the stage. The crowd was applauding.

He had no speech. He couldn't speak. He collapsed, unable to breathe. The crowd didn't notice.

The crowd did not care. They were applauding for the nominations for Best Picture.

Sydney... that pompous hack who didn't know a good story if it rend through his hide. He got that statue several times. For the Wonderbolt, the Last Earth Pony, and even lesser scripts Silver had written.

Silver lay helpless as Sydney made yet another acceptance speech that served as a veil to hide his distaste of risk-taking projects. He lied about how he always wanted to try something new.

A single pony stood from his chair and shouted back. Silver could see his older brother, Gold, shouting back, deconstructing the lies and pointing out how everything Sydney said was completely wrong. Every other pony turned to the gold-maned critic, and they all gave a disgusted look. Even in the face of reason, they shove it away to celebrate the ego-boosting of a hack.

Suddenly, tuxedo-clad ponies erupted from under the tables and began to swarm Gold.

Silver couldn't scream.

Epilogue

[EPILOGUE]

Frozen couldn't drown. What was stopping Kurt?

The description of the book did the bottom of the ocean no justice. It was an abyss of dullness. There was no sound anywhere. Only the deep booms he could barely hear with his relatively tiny ears.

His body got used to the tough pressure of the water. His eyes adjusted to the point where everything seemed rather green, like the image from night vision goggles. That's just what immortals can do, although his lungs still burn from the salt water flowing inside. However, the pain subsided many hours ago.

Unlike Frozen, the burgundy one was stepping slowly through the ocean for a reason. That reason spoke to him on the second day underwater.

"Welcome," came the voice of one that was capable of speaking underwater.

Sea Ponies, Kurt thought. He turned to see the ones armed with tridents.

"We remember a legend of one pony who couldn't drown, who tried to discover Equilibrium. We miss Equilibrium."

Kurt wrote down into the sand, How can I restore Equilibrium?

"Discord... and Harmony," the sea ponies replied.

Anything specific? The immortal wrote.

"Equestria must End."

...

...

...

...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You know, I get the feeling that this isn't the best I can do. I can't quite put my finger on it, but this story seems very weak-sauce dude. Truly, not as excellent as I had it in my head.

Bogus...

But wait, there's this Equestria must End business... maybe that could lead into something epic!

... Excellent!!!