Chapter One: Spotlight
Stories. We all tell stories. Everyone, everywhere, all the time. There are the stories of greatness: of a knight rescuing royalty from a castle, of a single pony creating empires and bringing them to prosper, of a hero who saves the world...
Ever since we figured out we could drag sticks across the mud to make symbols, we have been recording these stories for someone else to find and be inspired by. There are cautionary tales, tales of morality, tales of inspiration, legends of adventure. All stories form a greater one: the story of all of us. It is a tapestry, something ultimately beautiful and terrible at the same time. But, like anything woven together from so many parts, it has flaws.
Not all stories worth telling have been told, and not all the stories told have been worth telling. Some of these; the stories of the loose ends, the frayed edges, the knotted strings, they are sometimes worth telling more than the chronicles of the great. Because, in the end, all stories have a purpose; and every single one of us has a story to tell.
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That inspirational thing? Yeah, I learned that from a very important pony; at least she was to me. I'm not sure if I believe it, even though I want to. It's hard to embrace the idea of a bigger picture when your life's image is a passport photograph.
My name is Novelty. Great name for your foal, huh? At least it's original. I think. Especially for me. I was born a freak, and a freak I remain. Don't feel sorry, use the word if you like, I am what I am.
Only thing I know for certain: I'm an anomaly. And abnormal pays in certain places. Abnormal how? You see, I am—proudly— a circus freak.
This is where my little passport picture of a life comes in. I have, ever since I remember, been travelling with the great and esteemed Circus of the Sun and Moon (no affiliation to any princess, sadly. Actually, not sadly; they have me).
This fine act is known for its artistic performances and creative use of freaks. We're kind of celebrities, is what I'm saying. Big ones.
And so I find myself backstage, preparing for our world-famous all-freak show: The Marvellous Abnormalities!. I psych myself up by replaying the sound of cheering in my head, imagining the biggest ovation my brain can handle. I can almost feel the energy and love of the crowd feeding me—not literally though, that's Amber's thing.
A sly smile greets me from the mirror. Hello beautiful. Long eyelashes cover ice-blue eyes. My ochre coat seems to shimmer. My muscles show. That's great shape to be in. I know I look good.
I comb my dark red mane so it stays out of my eyes.
I am the emperor here; the show is my world, and I rule the show. The white sand floor common to almost all arenas and collosseums in Equestria is my red carpet, my marble floor. The stage is my throne. A small one-sided grin appears on my face. Long live me.
One by one, muffled thuds sound as my hooves hit the sand confidently. All six of them.
Midnight blue and black, my jumpsuit hangs to the side of the vanity mirror. I use my mouth to slip it on, zipping it up. The shadowy designs that cover it hug my form. I slip all my legs into the suit, feeling the enchanted fabric stretch. Strong wings flex as they pop out of the back. Suited up and ready for action. I put the superhero-like mask on my eyes.
'Now, now. That was quite astonishing, wasn't it, ladies and gentlecolts?' An explosion of hoof-stomping and cheering from the crowd answers Big Top's question. I crack my neck, followed by my hoof joints. 'Well, prepare yourselves to be at the edge of your seats! The Circus of the Sun and Moon proudly presents... The amazing! The astonishing! The unequalled!' Thank you, thank you; it's all true. 'The impressive! The Nightcrawlers!' Watch them lose their minds for us.
I step out into the stage with my chest puffed out, much to the delight of the spectators. Blow a few kisses here and there to random ponies in the crowds, even gryphons and some deer. I walk slowly, incredible as I am. This mare is a one-of-a-kind, and they know it. Two focused spotlights almost blind me. Almost.
On the far side of the stage, a short silver stallion in an identical suit flexes his muscles and cartwheels in rapid succession.
I breathe out and find my flow. That’s the stuff. I flex every single one of the muscles in my eight limbs. Time to be amazing.
