That One Time I Saved the World
There was something special about the morning, a lingering promise in the air of another day well spent. A day of fresh pastries and smiling ponies. Of good friends and old regulars, and maybe a bit of excitement if a lesser noble stopped in. Maybe, today, even one of the princesses might stop in. Celestia knows Donut Joe never shut up about the one time she stopped into his place.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, ready to greet a new day. A new cloudy day, it seemed, great puffy skies drifting past my skylight. I was so lucky to have found a building with a skylight to buy. When I’d first moved to Canterlot, I’d worried that all I’d ever see was the sides of towers and other buildings, nothing like the open skies of Cloudsdale Fields. I’d always loved being able to look up and see an entire city of clouds drifting overhead, even if I couldn’t afford the cloudwalking spells to visit it myself.
Maybe someday.
I stretched and rolled out of bed, stifling a yawn as I glanced around the small room. The other thing I missed about the farm was having a proper sized room, not these broomclosets Canterlot insisted on building. I barely had room for my bed and dresser, to say nothing of my airship collection. The poor things were piled on every surface like a storage shed, and those were just the ones I’d brought. My prized possession, a scale model of the Sun’s Benediction, had to be left at home in order to leave room for my bed. I hoped she was okay.
I trotted over to the bathroom, and turned the handles, briefly looking over myself in the mirror as I waited for the water to warm up. I’ll be the first to admit, between the frosting pink coat and the few (dozen) pounds I could stand to lose, I looked like such a baker it was actually a little embarrassing. To think I was even named Humble Pie (distant relation to those Pies). I fussed with my mane a bit, trying to figure out how I’d get the multihued mess into a hairnet today, again regretting the one biggest downside to food preparation. It was such a pretty mane too, almost auroral in it subtle mix of blues, greens, yellows, and pinks. Oh well.
It was about then that I glanced over at the shower, and noticed that the water hadn’t started flowing yet. Frowning, I jimmied the handle, but all that greeted me was the squeaking of the valves. I gave the cold water handle a twist, but to the same effect. Frowning, I tried the faucet next, only for the exact same thing to happen. Ugh, Canterlot, I thought, flipping all the handles to off. It’d be just my luck for the water mains to have burst at the start of the week.
I trotted downstairs, torn on whether I’d prefer it to be the city’s problem or my own. Sure, I’d probably have tons of water damage if my own pipes had rusted through, but at least that was a problem I could do something about. A city water main meant waiting on the ever diligent Canterlot City Council. Figures the princesses couldn’t turn out for anything less than an end-of-the-world situation, and instead delegated to the slowest bureaucracy in the world.
At least you could bribe griffons for service. Maybe we could get some griffons in office?
However, I found my quest interrupted by what easily qualified as the strangest problem I’d ever encountered. Everlasting night was one thing, invading bugs were another, and day and night happening at the same time was another still. Canterlot had had its share of problems, it’s true. But never in my life had I expected to find my bottom floor just gone. Right where the stairs should have led to the ground floor and my bakery proper, they just ended on a flat cobblestone floor.
Okay, what in tartarus am I supposed to do about this? I thought, giving the cobblestones a smack with my hoof. From the sound, it was clear the stones were solid, and not just some sort of joke wall. Though, what pony would pull that kind of prank on me I hadn’t a clue. I had some friends in town but none of them were of the “install a new floor in your house” kind.
After a minute, I sighed and headed back to my room. I’d probably have to climb out my window and see if there were some guards or somepony who could help. As I scooted my bed aside and pulled open the curtains, I couldn’t help but grumble at what this was going to do to my week. Best case scenario was I was going to qualify for a magic-insurance payout, but even then I was probably looking at weeks if not months waiting for my home to get un-decapitated.
Then I looked out my window and realized my problems were much bigger. Mostly because all of Canterlot was gone.
Outside my window where all the marble towers and golden spires should have been, there was instead an endless sea of clouds drifting below a matching layer in the sky. Floating between the two were ruins of inky black, their surfaces studded with spines as big as buildings. Great bells hung from some, while pipes like those from an organ jutted from others, and great webs of strings ran between others still.
My own shop sat on the only island with any color. Unlike the black islands, this one was clearly made of grey stone, cobbled and weathered. Massive stone pillars rose from all sides, their crumbling remains spilling across the ground, framing a path that wound up to what looked like an altar in the distance. It looked like something out of the old murals of Pegasopolis.
Hesitantly, I dropped down, the ground only a scant few feet below my window. Glancing back, the upper half of my home looked like it had simply sprouted from the stone, the foundations walls meeting flush with the ground without a splinter or crack to be seen. I sighed, trying not to wonder if my basement had appeared inside the stone, or if my house had simply been sheared in half. Instead, I turned to face the path ahead, the cobbled stone beckoning me onwards. Ahead, the clouds broke in the sky, allowing a lone sunbeam to settle on the altar.
I slowed as I approached, the air taking on a sacred stillness. The wind swirled gently around my hooves, and as I approached, I could see that the altar was recessed like a sarcophagus. Within, a set of burnished ebony armor gleamed in that lone ray of sunlight, inlaid with gold etchings, its legs folded as though it still held a sleeping pony within. It was an armor I remembered well from Hearth’s Warmings past.
“Commander Hurricane?” I could scarcely believe it. I reached out to touch the armor, then shrunk back for a moment. I glanced up, half expecting the clouds to darken and thunder strike me down. They did no such thing, merely swirling as though in anticipation. Slowly, against my better judgement, I reached out and lifted the helmet. It was surprisingly light in my grasp, almost like it was just a toy, but when I squeezed it in my hooves, the metal resisted with all the strength of true armor.
Out of morbid curiosity I slipped it on, the helm falling on like it was always meant to be there.
“It looks good on you.”
I whipped around, and there she was. Slate grey coat, frosted mane whipped into a windblown mess, and eyes as ice blue as the midwinter’s sky. I never thought in all my years I would see commander Hurricane in the flesh. I dropped to my knees before the figure of legend, frantically wishing I’d thought to take the helmet off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You’re hardly intruding, soldier. In fact, I’ve been waiting for you. Attention!” She stood straighter, and I instantly found myself snapping a salute on reflex. “Fate has called you here today, soldier, to finish what I could not.”
“F-fate, sir?” I stammered, flinching at the surprise in my own voice.
“Fate, soldier. Just as it was fate that sent Pansy along with me on that damned expedition.” Hurricane turned her head and snorted. “A sadder soldier I never saw, but if I’d brought Thunderclap like I’d planned… perhaps our fates would have ended in ice anyway.” Hurricane slumped for a moment, seeming impossibly old for just a moment. “Shows what I knew. But this is no time for dwelling on the past.” She turned to the great black ruins drifting in the sky. “You see those, soldier?”
“Yes, sir.” I replied, trying to think how I’d read of soldiers acting. “What are they, um, sir?”
“They are the wards of the Invader.” She swept her hooves wide. “Do you see these skies, soldier?” She waited until I nodded. “These are the Everskies, the birthright of every noble pegasus warrior. It is here that the honored dead should fly in eternal battle and celebration!” She slumped then, all the pride draining out of her posture. “And yet, for all the legions of our greatest who dwelled here, we fell all the same to the invader. He has stolen our winds, and our clouds, and turned them to his own nefarious ends.”
“Sweet Celestia,” I whispered, glancing around me. So that was why the pillars and altar were in ruins. “What should we do?”
“We? Nothing, soldier.” She turned to me, her eyes sad. “My time is done. I have already been bested once. It has taken all the strength I possess simply to keep this last stronghold standing. No, such heroism is a thing for the living, as it has always been.” He eyes warmed, a glint of pride entering them. “This is a job for you.”
“M-me?” I spluttered, stumbling onto my rump in true heroic fashion. “I’m not a hero! I’m a baker! I’m not even in shape!”
“It’s not the measure of the pony in the fight, but the measure of the fight in the pony!” Hurricane barked, her words all but yanking me off my rump. “Remember what I said about Pansy? A sorrier soldier I never saw, yet she was the one who saved pegasus kind. If fate picked you to deliver us, then I have every confidence you will.” A small smirk crept across her face. “And don’t worry about your figure. You should have seen Celestia before she ascended. That mare looooooved her cake.”
“Aghbjeurl?” I was beyond words at this point, completely overwhelmed. And that was when one of the bells rang low and deep.
“He comes.” Hurricane’s head snapped around so fast I barely saw it move. She turned back to me, slowly and deliberately as more bells began to ring. “Take my armor soldier, and acquit yourself as best you can. I know not why fate chose you, but I know certain as the feathers on my wings that it did.” Another bell rang, and Hurricane shuddered as though struck, steadying herself on the ground. “Have faith, my child, you will succeed.”
“Wait, what? Child?” I jumped to my hooves. “What do you mean, child?”
“Well, not directly of course.” Hurricane managed a thin smile, despite staggering beneath the toll of another bell. “But don’t tell me you never ogled the other tribes~ That Smart Cookie was one tight cookie if you know what I mean~”
“Ew.” I felt vaguely unclean now. “I’m flattered, but ew.”
“Let an old mare have her fun. Life isn’t all spears and…” She grinned lewdly. “Well, maybe it kind of is all spears.”
“Ew. Ew ew ew.” I shook my head, trying to clamp my hooves over my ears. “You’re ruining the heroism!”
“Sorry,” she groaned, still grinning even as she staggered and fell to the ground as toll after toll rolled over her. “I just hope they remembered me like I was, and not as some puffed… up… popinjay.” As the bells continued to ring, she began to fade away, staggering to her hooves one last time. “Carry… on… soldier.” With the last of her strength, she gave a salute.
I did the same, and in the next moment, she was gone.
Taking a deep breath, I started to don the armor, even as the bells organized themselves into a rolling procession. The melody was grand and unearthly, almost beautiful in its own way, but filled with a terrible weight to it. The song itself was powerful, an exertion of will incarnate. I could feel it pressing down on me with every note, though the notes seemed to wash off the armor as I placed it on. As soon as I squeezed the barding on around my barrel, I almost felt normal again.
“So. So so so so so.” I glanced up, and hanging in the midst of the black ruins was a solitary silver sphere from which the voice issued. The ruins had moved while I’d dressed, arranging themselves around the sphere to frame it in a ring. “I see ponykind intends to continue exercising squatter’s rights.”
I racked my brain for something clever and epic to say. “We were here first!”
The sphere was silent a moment. “That’s… literally the definition of squatter’s rights. I literally just said that.” There was a sound not unlike an impatient huff. “Regardless, I suppose you’re some sort of champion or something. Last pony in a getup that stupid was, anyway.”
“This is the armor of Commander Hurricane, greatest of pegasi warriors, and by her blessing and blood, I will see the Eversky returned to its rightful keepers!” I had to suppress a grin at the thought of how hard I’d just saved my previous reply.
“Fine. If theatrics are the only way to shut you ponies up, then theatrics it is.” A long tendril of shadow emerged from the sphere, its roots dancing across the silvery surface like rivers. As the tendril waved through the air, the many ruins fell silent, before beginning to play anew. This time, the strings and pipes led, the bells setting the rhythm as chills ran down my spine. The clouds turned dark and ominous, lightning crackling along their length in roaring percussion to the tune. Snapping his tendril again, the Invader conjured a forked spear into his grasp, a convoluted length of glass and gearwork that caught the flashing lightning at its tip. Bolts flashing between its tines, he descended, his surface a mirror image of the churning skies around us.
“Know now that you face the like of gods,” he said, his voice carrying through the orchestra of storm and song. “Know that you die a fool!”
I didn’t even manage to dodge his first blow, the tines slamming into my armor like the time I’d been hit by a wagon. Suddenly I was spinning, my coat standing on end as the lightning arced off my armor. Ozone reeking in my nose, I just barely caught myself on my hooves, looking up in time to avoid another swipe, this one etching glass into the stones as lightning webbed away from the blow. I danced back to what I guessed was the edge of his reach, but with a lightning spear, who knew?
I had to think of a way to beat him. For a moment I considered charging him, but then I remembered how quickly he’d struck me on his first blow. As if to emphasize the point, he took another lunge at me, the gearwork in his spear spinning as it telescoped out, again catching me in the side, this time denting my armor as it threw me to the edge of the island, my skid stopping just short of the cloudy abyss below.
This was not going well.
“Are you aware this is going rather poorly?” he asked, rubbing in the point. “I suppose I might still be willing to consider a surrender.”
I struggled back to my hooves, letting his ultimatum buy me time to breathe and think. It had been barely a minute and already my whole left side hurt, and I knew if that lightning hit anything other than my armor, I was cooked. I had to think of something, something that had even escaped the greatest pegasi warriors of ages past. I stared down at the crumbled stones of their former glory, and thought as hard as I could.
And then it hit me. And soon it was going to hit the invader too.
“Hey,” I asked. “Is your name really the Invader?”
“What?” The sphere paused. “Of course not, what kind of--”
I bucked a stone the size of a hoof at him. Probably on reflex, he lifted his spear to block, but clearly the machine had been designed to skewer pegasi with their light armor and lightning attacks. Its delicate gearwork fared much worse against solid marble. With the twanging of broken springs and the tinkle of broken glass, the spear snapped in two along the haft.
“My spear!” He exclaimed, a moment before a second rock punched through his silver exterior. Immediately, a horribly grinding and sparking began to issue from the hole in his surface. “Well this is ignominious,” he declared before immediately bursting open in a spray of gears and shadows, the whole mess spilling across the ground as the shadows quickly evaporated. As they did, the great orchestra fell silent, the clouds stilling and clearing as the storm abated.
The breath left my lungs.
All around me were the heavens peaking between the peaceful clouds. Stars, Sun, and Moon all moved about me in a glorious dance. There was a breeze at my back, and I turned to find Hurricane standing there, a proud smile on her face. I couldn’t help but salute her, and she saluted back.
“Rocks huh? Who would have figured.” She smiled a little wider. “You did good, kid.”
“Thank you, sir!” I faltered. “Uh, what now?”
“Now?” Hurricane turned, and some of the clouds gathered together under the light of the celestial vault. A great palace of columns and light, filled with pegasi of every color and armor, lifting tankards high. Lifting them to me. I felt Hurricane’s hoof across my shoulders. “I’d say you’re the guest of honor.”
It was all I could do not to squeal with delight. I charged up the stairs, into the midst of the hall. All around me were smiling faces and laughter. I felt on top of the world, and there, in front of me--
--was the silver sphere.
“Tell me,” he said, as I slid to a halt. “Was that, or was that not, the most awesome thing ever?”
“B-but you’re dead!” I stammered, glancing around. Suddenly, the vaulted halls were empty, the pegasi gone as though they had never been. “I killed you!”
“Well, of course you did,” the Sphere replied, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “It wouldn’t have been much of a battle otherwise. I mean, sure, we could have gone the harmony and reconciliation route, but--call me old fashioned--I think there’s a certain charm in a good brawl.”
“But… but…” I didn’t even know what to ask first. How? Why? What?
The Sphere sighed. “Alright, I can see you’re confused.” There was a ripple of shadow across its surface, and suddenly the entire cloud palace vanished, blown away in a gust of wind. Beneath my hooves was a solid surface of black cubes, forming a small platform in the swirling skies. “Have a seat, and I’ll break it down.”
“What’s going on?” I finally managed to ask, dropping onto my rump. One minute I’d been battling for the fate of the afterlife itself, and suddenly--whatever this was.
“You, my friend, just had an adventure!” At the last word, several of the black islands emerged from the clouds again, horns jutting from their surfaces blaring a triumphant note and sprays of black confetti. As it slowly sprinkled down around us, the sphere continued, bobbing about excitedly. “You, a common baker, yanked from your everyday routine by destiny, donned the ancient armor of Commander Hurricane herself to do battle for the fate of all the fallen pegasi throughout time!” For lack of a better word, the sphere squealed like a schoolfilly. “How cool is that?”
“But…” I glanced around, again noting the distinct lack of pegasi or afterlife. “None of it was real, was it?”
“Oh, that’s completely immaterial,” the Sphere said. “What matters is that you thought it was real. You didn’t put that armor on because it might be fun for a chuckle, you put that armor on because you were ready to take the reins of destiny in your own teeth and go.”
“But, none of it was real.” I had to sigh. I guess it had been silly to expect that I’d actually save the world in some fashion.
“No. No no no no no. None of that.” A strand of shadow whipped out, and before I could react it smacked a stinging line across my brow.
“Hey, ow!” I hunched over, cradling the stinging line across my head. “What was that for?”
“No belittling your achievement! I didn’t set this all up so you could brush it off as not real,” the sphere, again for lack of a better word, huffed. “You took up that armor thinking it was real. You thought your life was on the line, and that’s when you made your decision. Whether it was or wasn’t real is irrelevant relative to what it says about you. You are not a hero because of your results, but are a hero because of your actions.”
That made me feel a little better. “But… what’s going on? Who are you? Why did you do this?”
“Okay,” the sphere said. “we’ve gone over the first question already. You had an adventure. As for the second…” There was a flood of shadow across the sphere, and it rose up, coalescing into a lupine head with a jagged grin and holes for eyes. “Call me Candyfloss.”
“I, um…” I backed up a few steps. Maybe more than a few. “Hi?” That grin was way too big.
“Hi,” Candyfloss chuckled, that grin growing even wider, if possible. “Forgive the appearance, but I’ve always had an aesthetic weakness for predators. I find them more… exciting.” He licked his lips, and I backed up another step. “As for the third question?” His face grew serious, almost sad. “Isn’t adventure a cause worthy of itself?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, finding I’d run out of platform to back up in. The thought made me gulp a bit.
“Think about your life, the days you’ve spent. You wake up, you work, you eat, you sleep. Same as a million other ponies. A billion, maybe. Each day like the last. Over and over and over, a living metronome whereby you track the endless approach of death.” He conjured an arm, and swept it wide, gesturing to the skies around us. “Then one day, you’re called to the center of things. There is no tomorrow, no mindless grind, only a moment of perfect clarity where the entire world rests upon your shoulders. Tell me, in this one moment, did you not feel more alive, more real than any of those days spent grinding away at the petty mundanities of life?”
“I…” I thought back to the moment Hurricane had looked me in the eye. Had told me she’d had faith in me. “It felt incredible.”
“And that, my friend, is why I did it.” He nodded resolutely. “Adventure is the calling of all life. To adventure is to be alive. To push our boundaries, to discover who we are, and perhaps even grow to be a better pony!” Despite not actually having any eyes, I could have sworn his were shining with passion. “Come! Let us strike forth into the unknown! Let us challenge the odds and our very souls against all that life has to offer!” He suddenly grabbed me into what I could only describe as a hug. “Let us adventure!”
“But…” I struggled to get out of his grip, the inky shadowy stuff he was made of proving annoyingly springy. “What about my shop?”
“Your…? Oh.” The disappointment in his voice was palpable. “Don’t tell me you want to go back to just sleepwalking through existence.”
“Well…” I didn’t want to upset him. Honestly I felt a little bad for him. He seemed so enthusiastic. “I would like a tiny break? I mean, I can’t adventure all the time, or… it stops being an adventure, right?”
Candyfloss was silent a moment, then slumped and sighed. “Yeah, I suppose you have a point. Alright, let’s see about your shop.” The stone blocks beneath us shifted, forming a walkway as he set me down. They quickly bridged out ahead of us, the island with my shop on it rising up to meet the end. As we approached Candyfloss let out a whistle. “Wow, you know, I wasn’t really paying attention at the time, but your shop got messed up.” He poked at the seam where my shop met the stones. “Yeeeeep. That’s fused.”
“Uh, out of curiosity…” I watched him drifting around, poking and tugging at my shop. “What are you?”
“Me?” He didn’t bother to turn, just looking at my shop with a thoughtful frown. “There’s not really a term that applies. I’m beyond the species concept, saying I’m a sapient intelligence would be borderline meaningless, and saying I’m a god would imply quite a bit that I’d rather not imply.” He briefly formed shoulders just long enough to shrug. “I’m Candyfloss.”
“Okay…” I sighed, turning my own attention to my shop. It looked so strange, slumped at an angle like that. “Can you do anything about my shop?”
“Anything? I can do lots of things. Problem is are any of them useful?” He sighed. “So far as I can tell, your shop tried to overlap with my island. All the molecules got wedged in the gaps between each other, so while your shop is still technically there it’s irreparably fused to the stone.”
“Oh Celestia’s ass.” I thumped my head on the wall of the shop. “I can’t even imagine what this is going to look like on the insurance form. Couldn’t you have at least put my shop down correctly?”
“Me?” Candyfloss asked. “You think I did this? You popped up here.”
“What?” I turned back to him. “You mean you didn’t bring me here? But you had all…” I flailed my forehooves around. “This set up!”
“Yeah, kind of a rush job I have to admit.” He sighed dramatically. “I really would have loved a few bridges of light, maybe a black hole or two in the background. I know this one that just has the most gorgeous accretion disk. Oh yeah, I could have set it up over there, framing my entrance…” He drifted off, before coughing and shaking himself. “But yeah, no, you came here. I didn’t plan any of this.”
“Well, how the buck did I get here then?” I threw up my hooves in exasperation, before a terrible thought struck me. “Wait, you can get me back, right? I’m not trapped here am I?”
“Oh, that? No, you’re not stuck, don’t worry.” He waved a limb, and another of those black islands dropped from the clouds. Unlike the others, this one didn’t bristle with instruments, but long metal rods crackling with electricity. “It took me like five minutes to backtrace the trajectory. One zap and poof, you’re back. Hopefully.” He was silent a moment, glancing at my shop. “Might want to send a bomb first, just to make sure the destination is clear.”
“Bomb?!” I shook my head frantically. “No bombs! I have neighbors! What if you blow them up?”
“It doesn’t have to be a big bomb!” He shot back. “Just a tiny one. Pony sized. Barely a crater.”
“No craters! No blowing anything up!” I said.
“And if I send you back and you land on top of a pony who just happens to be exploring the giant mysterious hole in the middle of that city?” He raised an eyebrow. “I think your shop should paint a pretty vivid example of what happens there.”
I gulped. “I still don’t want you blowing up a spot for me.”
“Well then what do you propose I do?” He conjured arms up just to fold them at me, and I resisted the urge to pout. Mostly.
“I don’t know! Can’t you… send something tiny through? So ponies see stuff just popping out of the air?” I glanced around, and spotted some flakes of that confetti he’d sprinkled. “Like this?”
“That…” he stared at me, then slumped. “Is actually kind of a good idea.” He glanced up at me. “You really just want to go home?”
I glanced at my shop, sighed, and nodded. “Yes, look, thank you for the adventure. It was… something else. But I have a whole life back in Canterlot. I’m a baker, I’ve always been a baker. I like being a baker. I mean, I liked being a hero too, but…” I trailed off. “I just kind of want to get my paperwork filed and take a nap. I can already tell this is going to be a nightmare.”
He sighed, and that crackling island drifted closer, an electric tingle dancing across my fur as it got close. As I watched, squares of confetti began to pop and flash, disappearing off the ground. I glanced up at Candyfloss one last time, and was suddenly struck by how sad he seemed. And then there was a crack, and the world vanished in white.
Confetti, I discovered, made a surprisingly good landing pad. Digging myself out of the fluffy black pile, my ears still ringing, I finally got my first look at the familiar spires of Canterlot. Several of which were missing. And more of which were on fire.
“Now this looks like an adventure!” Candyfloss said, nearly making me jump out of my skin.
“What are you doing here?!”
