With the swift, crackling swoosh of chemical combustion, the match lit. Illuminating the pale, light grayish raspberry hoof holding it, but the light not quite strong enough to reach the walls of the room.
Pinkie’s cerulean eyes widened, and she let out a gasp that nearly blew out the match.
Hoof shaking with excitement, she lit The Candle she’d been saving.
It was a fine candle as such things go. Nothing special towards either extreme of quality, but made from fine enough wax and colored a quite pleasant dark-emerald green, contrasting nicely with the hooves that now held it.
Pinkie was many things. Ponyville’s premier party pony. A Bearer of an Element of Harmony—Laughter to be specific. ~~The friendliest reality-warping abomination you’d ever hope to meet.~~ Amateur aviator and cannoneer. Professional confectioner and baker.
But there were two specific things she was, that currently were more pressing.
A seer of impressive foresight, in her own twitchy way one of the furthest seeing in both breadth and scope.
A mare with an impressive attention-span… if not always the finest judgement in what to point that attention at.
And currently, Pinkie was giving the green candle between her hooves her full attention.
Because Pinkie knew with the certainty of ~~having peaked at the script and making a few gentle corrections for the story to end properly~~ feeling her bones, that this candle was important. It was The Candle. That by lighting it, she’d set in motion a moment that would never come again.
This one, tiny candle. The Candle, was right now the most important object in the universe.
Because once The Candle was blown out, the world would end.
It was not the first time Pinkie had seen something like that, of course. Nightmare Moon. Discord. The Baked Bads. Queen Chrysalis.Primal forces of creation hardly ever bind themselves to a mortal champion because they have cupcake munchies. A champion needed, a monster vanquished... never because that the celestial (so to speak) bureaucracy needed a good office party.
A shame, really, but such seems the priorities of such beings. Strange, but it would be a silly old world if we were all alike, and so on.
~~Not that Pinkie would know anything about that. Nope, nope, nope.~~
As gingerly as if she was putting the finishing touches on the finest parfait, Pinkie passed The Candle onto the plain, white saucer she’d prepared on her nightstand. Back before The Candle was lit, and The Candle had simply been a candle.
Curling up like ~~a cat~~ a pony on her narrow but comfy bed, Pinkie kept watching The Candle intently.
It was hardly the first time Pinkie had seen the world end. It happened plenty of times in Ponyville, and nopony ever seemed to notice so Pinkie saw little reason to pay it much attention.
Usually once a week. Sometimes many months apart. ~~Sometimes when things got dramatic enough it even happened in the middle of an adventure, forcing Pinkie to listen to the recap.~~
Still… A candle, somehow having turned into the most important thing in the world? The Candle?
That had never happened before, and Pinkie found it fascinating. The strains and drains of the day simply melting away as she watched the soft little light, pondered which one of her friends to tell about The Candle.
With a deep hum and scratching her chin, Pinkie pondered. After all, it wasn’t The End of the world, but only the end of the world, so it didn’t seem quite like time for a full blown party.
Pinkie loved her parties, of course, but she’d learned that there is a time and place for them. Lawn mowing. Dentist visits. The end of the world. Such things were simply too common and mundane, and ponies got annoyed if she tried holding parties for those reasons.
An end of the world rare only in that Pinkie—or whoever else could sense the importance of The Candle—got to decide when it happened.
After all, how often does somepony get to end the world? Pinkie simply couldn’t keep something as rare as that to herself! She simply had to invite her friends!
Applejack seemed the most fitting since she’d been the one to give Pinkie The Candle, but she was out of town. Visiting family in Manehattan.
Twilight wouldn’t get it. Or worse, she would get it, and before Pinkie knew it there would be some sort of Everlasting Candle spell making a mess of things, as Twilight panicked and missed the point.
Fluttershy… Yeah, probably not the best pony to ask if they wanted to end the world. Better to just let her sleep.
Rainbow Dash probably wouldn’t be interested in something so ~~meta~~ ‘Pinkie,’ at least not three in the morning after a whole day of weather work.
Pinkie let out a happy gasp. “Of course! I’ll give Rarity the honor!”
Without further ado, Pinkie bounced out of her bed and room. Pausing only long enough to make sure that her door was closed.
The Candle burned merrily away in her absence. ~~A horrible little fire-hazard left unattended like that.~~ As serene and still as only a candle in a dark room may be.
Fifteen-twenty minutes or so later, a small commotion could be heard. One insufferably perky mare dragging another, politely grumbling one up for a set of stairs. Neither mare were trying to be loud, but still had the perennial problem of a hoofed species in matters of obfuscating their nocturnal locomotion.
Pinkie, dragging a half-awake Rarity behind her not unlike an over excited filly being trailed by a grumpy, light grey balloon, burst into the room.
“Yes?” Rarity slurred as ladylike as possible, but still clearly half awake at best. With a shudder from the night chill, the fashionista pulled her pink bathrobe closer around her. Doing her best to do so without disturbing the curlers still in her mane, or the mud-mask still over her muzzle. “What did you want to show me, Pinkie?”
“This!” Pinkie exclaimed as quietly as possible, so not to wake the rest of Sugarcube Corner, sweeping one hoof towards The Candle.
Rarity, used to Pinkie being Pinkie as she was after a life-time living in Ponyville together with the mare, actually gave The Candle a long look. Her sleep frazzled mind trying to figure out what her friend meant.
“...Yes?” Rarity hesitatingly ventured after a few moments. “It’s a very nice candle, Pinkie.”
“No-no-no!” Pinkie gasped. “You’re not saying it right!”
“...Oh?”
“It’s The Candle!” Pinkie exclaimed as dramatically as possible while rearing up on her hind legs, a rogue bolt of lightning flashing in the distance. “And right now, it's the most important object in the world!”
Rarity blinked slowly, not for the first time wondering if this was the point where Pinkie had truly gone off the deep end. “I… beg your pardon, Darling?”
Pinkie started bouncing on the spot excitedly. “I lit it, and the world started up, and when it goes out the world will end, and I want you to do it!”
Suddenly wide-awake, Rarity softly went urk. “It's cursed to End the world?!”
Pinkie paused, only to let out a tittering, snorty laugh. “Of course not, you silly filly.”
“...Oh.”
Pinkie continued, still bouncing, and just as chipper. “Just end it!”
Rarity softly went urk and tensed once more.
“We’re here because of it, so once The Candle is blown out, it stops being the most important thing in the world!”
Rarity blinked, forcing herself to start breathing again as she sunk down on her haunches. The gears slipping and grinding a bit due to the early hour, but still forcing herself to think what Pinkie might be meaning.
Rarity’s face softened considerably on it clicking. “You’re talking metaphorically, aren’t you, Pinkie?” Rarity fought down the existential dread on who’d been mad enough to give philosophy books to Pinkie, and instead focused on more pleasant things. “This little candle is ‘the most important thing in the world’ because it gave you an excuse to drag me over here in the middle of the night?”
Pinkie paused mid-bounce, hanging in the air in a way that would have made anypony not used to her antics get a headache. “Eh, close enough,” Pinkie giggled, before bouncing right along like nothing had happened.
Rarity however were quite familiar with Pinkie’s antics, and simply sighed. Doing her best to rub at her temples with a hoof without smearing her mud-mask around. “That is quite sweet of you, Pinkie,” Rarity said gently, but with just a hint of annoyance, “but I have a big order to fill tomorrow, and even a Lady needs her beauty sleep.”
With a whoosh of displaced air, by an act as ordinary as an unicorn taking and releasing one simple breath, The Candle went out.
Only a single, glowing point remained of the flame. A cherry-red ember at the tip of the wick, as the darkness of night rushed silently in like a velvety tide. Untouchable, but somehow felt all the same.
“See?” Rarity said. The dark made even more so by the two mares’ night-vision not yet picking up the fainter streetlights and Luna’s stars and moon. “It is just a candle. Now please go to bed, Pinkie.”
“Aww…” Pinkie mumbled sadly, before perking up as the last wisps of smoke rose unseen towards the ceiling. “Oh well, it was fun while it lasted!”
Rarity hesitated for just a single moment, before chuckling. “It was, Pinkie. Goodnight.”
Pinkie jumped into bed, the covers over her before Rarity had even turned in the door. Both mares heading out to sleep with tired smiles on their muzzles.
~~With a start Pinkie woke up, realizing it had all been a dream, and vowing never to put gorgonzola on her bed-time nachos again.~~
Without much fuss, The Candle went out.
Author's Note
Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
~William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act V, scene v.
Just a cute little meta idea that popped into my head.
What if the main character, the whole reason for a story’s existence, was a single candle being lit?
No epic destiny. No monsters. Not even a Power Rangers style cursed candle of doom.
Just a candle. Only given significance because of a ~~crazy~~ eccentric mare deciding it should be.
We are all the main characters of our own story, after all. Why would a flame be different?
Honestly not sure if it was as interesting to read as it was to write—or if 'pony words' were the fitting venue for something this experimental, but I hope you enjoyed it. 
