The Pencil Pony

Chapters

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five: Epilogue

Chapter One

Eyes narrowed, Sketch Pen watched her target, sweat drenching her mane as she focused. It seemed like weeks since she has done something like this, and she was not going to let procrastination and fear overtake her. She focused, and finally lept at her unsuspecting opponent, weapon drawn. She aimed, and fired, releasing a quick flurry of attacks, each one centered at the very center of her opponent’s body.

After what seemed like an endless battle she finally stepped back to observe the carnage she wrought upon her foe.

“OH COME ON!” She cried as she looked towards the easel that displayed what could only be described as a brutally distorted version of a sketched pegasus mid-flight. She sighed, placing her pencil on a nearby table before beginning to make her may out of the room.

This was the seventh time in the last day that she had failed in doing anything remotely artistic, most of her other failures looking more like a pony who was run over by a carriage, rather than the happy scene she had envisioned over and over again.

When she first started off, Sketch Pen’s work was something to be admired, most of her earlier works now covering the halls of some Canterlot nobles. She had even been commissioned by Princess Luna herself, at her request of getting something modern to place in her old room.

But, as soon as she moved to Manehattan, away from her parents in Canterlot, she began to have trouble even just drawing the simplest of stick ponies. It was probably made even worse when her parents were disappointed when she had gotten her cutie mark, an outlined pen drawing itself. She sighed yet again, remembering how her father had trained her practically as soon as she could walk, learning to use spears, shields, swords, even some offensive magic.

But as soon as she had gotten her cutie mark, all of that training had stopped, and she was sent to an art school, rather than follow in her parent’s hoof steps to become a solaris guard.

Sketch Pen took a moment to look out a window in her hall, staring out at the streets of Manehattan. For some reason, the idea of city life had excited her to no end, and as soon as she had made enough bits from her drawings, she decided it was time to leave. Her parents told her she was always welcome back, but every time she would look back, she could only imagine her parents disappointed looks.

After a couple moments of thought, she began to walk back to her room, only to be interrupted by the sound of the doorbell chiming. She slowly blinked, trying to recall if she had invited guests over, before coming up blank and walking to the door. She opened it only for her eyes to widen in surprise, a small smile coming to her face.

In front of her was one of her friends from art school, Golden Chisel. The golden coated earth pony had a wide smile on her face, her purple hair rustling in the slight breeze.

“Hiya, Sketch Pen! How are ya’ doing?” The golden mare asked.

“Oh, I’m fine, just… you know, working on some stuff.” Sketch cringed internally, remembering why she tended to be one of the more unsocial fillies.

“Cool! I’m working on things too!” She replied smile still plastered on her face. “Anyway, mind if I come in? I have a bit of an offer to give you.”

Sketch Pen relented, allowing Golden Chisel into her home. Sketch stared at the unkempt, barely used living room, cringing at every stray piece of trash left on the floor, hoping Golden would not be averted at the sight of it. Golden settled on a nearby couch, looking expectantly at Sketch. After doing so, she looked back to see Golden with a smile that seemed nearly ready to split her face in half.

“Wow, been a while since I’ve been here! Anyway, I know how you are about conversation, so I will get down to business!” After a small amount of squirming, getting into a more comfortable position, Sketch looked at Golden expectantly.

“So, it’s been a while since I’ve been to my parents place down in Ponyville, and they’ve been sending some letters asking when I’m going to visit. Since you have been holed in here for the past couple months, I was wondering if you wanted to come to Ponyville with me!”

Sketch blinked, staring at Golden confusedly. ‘She wants me to come to Ponyville with her?’ Her thoughts uncertain, ‘but I have so much to… do…’ Sketch’s eyes widened, realizing what this could do for her. ‘Oh, this could be perfect! This could give me the jumpstart I need to help sell some actual art!’ She smiled as she looked to Golden.

“Ooooh! I know that kind of smile! I’m guessing you’re interested?” Golden enthusiastically asked.

“Yeah, actually, that sounds kind of nice. When would we head over there?” Sketch questioned, her head tilting slightly to the left.

“Ah, right, that the only problem.” Golden’s eyes looked to the side as her ears drooped. “We would have to go today. The tickets I have are only good for a train at five.”

Sketch looked to a nearby clock, noting that it was around three in the afternoon. She took a moment to think, wondering if she had anything better to do, and found none.

“Alright, I’m still willing to go” She stated, smile on her face. She absent-mindedly noted that golden just seemed to have a contagious smile.

“Alright, well pack your bags, ‘cause we’d better hurry! It’s almost rush hour!” Golden exclaimed beginning to rush out the door. “Meet me at the Train Station at 4:30! I’ll be waiting for ya!”

Sketch took a moment to wonder how an earth pony could move so fast to appear to almost teleport, but also wondered how she could still hear her after she had done so. She shook her head of such thoughts, placing them in a specific area reserved for ‘odd things that Golden can do’, and began to pack up, hoping that this vacation was just what she needed to get her creative juices flowing, and her pen flying.

*******

The Ponyville train station was practically mute compared to the one in Manehattan. There was barely much of a peep, save for the few ponies conversations, and the hustle and bustle that seemed to dominate city life seemed almost non-existent here.

That is, of course, before some ponies turned their heads at the sound of the Seven o’ clock train coming in. The train crept to a stop at the station, its wheels slowly grinding the rails as it halted.

As soon as the train had come to a complete stop, the doors opened, allowing the ponies inside freedom from such a cramped place. Sketch pen slowly began to trail behind the overexcited pronking pony in front of her.

“Oh, this is so exciting! We haven’t done something like this in years!” Golden Chisel made an odd squee like sound as she continued forward ignoring the occasional glance her way.

“So, what do you plan on doing here in Ponyville? Come to see the sights? To Rest from Manehattan’s busy life? Ooh, did you come here to escape from something? Are you being tracked by a stalker? Oh, or maybe a bunch of cyborg aliens who came here to take over-“ Sketch Pen stuck a hoof into Golden’s mouth silencing her.

“Calm down Golden, I didn’t come here to escape from anything.” Sketch rolled her eyes. “Besides I don’t think Manehattan has any cyborg aliens.”

Golden scrunched her face “Hmph, well even if you were being tracked down by cyborg aliens from the future, ol’ auntie Golden will be here to save you!” Golden stopped her pronking to make a valiant pose, only to fall flat on her face from momentum. Sketch rolled her eyes yet again, helping golden to her hooves.

Golden didn’t skip a beat. “Well even if you aren’t here for anything, we should definitely check out some Ponyville sights!” Sketch sighed, looking to Golden. “I’m probably just going to curl up somewhere with a book or two and hang out for a couple days.”

Golden’s face went blank, before suddenly erupting in a smile that nearly split her head in half. “Good thinking! That way we can go sight-seeing AND get you some new books!”

Golden reached down Grabbing Sketch with her hoof. “Wait, what do you mean-“ Sketch was interrupted as Golden took off with a speed that she could have sworn belonged to rainbow dash herself.

“WAaAagh!” Golden began to pick up her pace, rushing as fast as she could to get to the town’s library. After several moments, they arrived, both ponies stopping on a dime. Sketch’s eyes twirled within her sockets, feeling like she was going to need a bush to throw up in.

“We’re here! Welcome to Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle-“ Sketch made an odd gagging noise in the background, “As well as the town’s library!”

Sketch Pen began to cough, eyes bulging. She was absolutely terrified of the princesses, almost hiring somepony to deliver the night princess’ commission, only to find none available at the time. She ended up having to go herself the sweat on her coat turning into froth as she approached the diarch. But, now as she thought of it, she became even more terrified at the thought of the newly winged alicorn from Ponyville. At the very least the Diarchs were a little predictable, let alone someone who just became an alicorn a few short years ago!

“A-are you sure that there isn’t another l-library somewhere else?” Sketch managed to sputter out, “I’d rather not go in there, no offense to the p-princess or anything.”

“None Taken.” Both Golden’s and Sketch’s heads swung towards the new yet familiar voice. “Also sorry to say, but this is the only library in town”.

Princess Twilight Sparkle stood at the ajar door to the castle, along with Spike the savior of the Crystal Empire, and literal dragon.

Golden simply smiled, waving to the princess, while Sketch stared wide eyed, quaking as she futilely attempted to calm herself down. When that didn’t work, she instead tried a different approach.

She stood up as straight as she could, plastering a stoic expression upon her face as she saluted. Twilight simply stared at her blinking several times before looking to Golden.

“So, do you two need anything in particular? A book perhaps?” The twinkle in her eyes as she said this was unfortunately strangled by the awkwardness of Sketch passing out, failing to breath. Golden looked towards Sketch, only to find her in a lump on the ground, quaking slightly, before looking back at Twilight.

“Actually, yeah, we’re here to pick up some books for my friend here!” She placed a hoof on Sketch’s back smiling good-naturedly at twilight.

“Ooookay… well we certainly have those. Come inside and we’ll show you what we have!” Twilight began to trot back into the castle, intent on showing her new guests inside.

Golden smiled, before pronking indoors, knocking spike over. Spike sighed before staring at the lump of fur in the grass. He sighed once more, grumbling to himself as he grabbed Sketch, dragging her indoors by a hoof.

Twilight led everyone to a nearby section of the crystalline castle that was open to the public, showing off the large selection of books she had recovered ever since the Tirek incident. After informing Sketch and Golden that she had a meeting with someone named Pinkie Pie, Twilight left with Spike in tow, the young drakes’ expression shifting to a more positive expression as he thought of the party that was undoubtedly occurring where they were headed.

Sketch sighed, relieved that the princess was now gone. She began to check through some of the books in the art section of the library, curious to see if there were any she had already not read.

As she was searching she noticed an odd book that seemed to stand out compared to the others. It was a simple hardcover, with nothing on the front nor back save the title: Animated works in art: Spells and Enchantments.

Sketch grew curious, wondering what kind of spells an art book could contain. She opened it up to the table of contents, skimming through it.

‘Let’s see… On the concept of mediums… An artist’s work… Animated Sketches? How to cure a lack of inspiration… Self-Drawing tools… wait, what?’

She flipped through to the specified page, eyes widening as she looked at what she had stumbled upon. ‘A spell to animate your pencil, pen, or quill to draw anything you imagine or desire?’

Sketch simply closed the book, face blank, as she turned towards Golden Chisel. “Alright, found my book. I’m ready to go when you are.” Golden looked up from the book on modern sculptures she was glued to.

“Already? Wow, that was fast! Welp, I’ve seen enough of this book to know which one I’m getting!” She hugged the book to her chest, looking at it like one may look at a newborn foal. “I’m ready to go!”

*******

“Are you SURE you don’t want to go?” Golden Chisel pouted slightly, ears drooping. “It’s gonna be the party of the century!”

Sketch only shook her head, an odd smile present on her face. “No, I’ve had way too much stress back in Manehattan. I came to Ponyville to get away from all of the busyness.”

Golden sighed, but a smile made its way onto her muzzle. “Well, alright, I can understand. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be at sugarcube corner!”

Golden trotted away, allowing Sketch to close the door and trot back inside. She walked into the spare bedroom in Golden’s parent’s home, staring at a peculiar object on her bed. She giggled, closing the door and grabbing the book, readying the small sketchbook she brought with her.

She happily sighed, opening the book to the page she knew could save her career. ‘Alright, let’s read this a little more thoroughly. “This spell will animate your pen, pencil, or quill, to which said object will draw any image you imagine.’”

Sketch giggled yet again, her smile widening. She looked down at the spell’s requirements igniting her horn. She stopped suddenly, noticing for the first time a warning label for the spell.

Caution! Do not reverse the spell! Unexpected results may occur!

‘Huh, wonder what that’s about? Oh well, lets’ just do this!’ Sketches horn ignited once more, brightening the room slightly as the sun began its decent. Her horn began to spark, the aura surrounding it increasing in size until it was three times as large as the average telekinesis spell. She aimed her horn at the simple pencil laying on the edge of the bed causing an odd swirling glow to light up the room. The entire room flashed with a blinding white light.

And just like that, it was over, no more flashing lights or etheric sparks, the room simply darkened. Sketch opened her eyes to see the one light source of the room, her pencil. It currently was floating mid-air, seemingly of its own accord, no telekinesis in play by Sketch.

Sketch gulped, looking to the large pad of paper laying on her bed. ‘Let’s hope this works…’

Sketch visualized a simple horn drawing of a pony, doing nothing, saying nothing, just standing there. She imagined the short mane and long tail she is usually known for drawing, as well as slightly longer legs. She began to pour her heart and soul into the drawing, hoping for the best results.

Sketch opened an eye, staring down at it. Both eyes opened in shock, her mouth opening slightly.

Before her lay one of the most realistic drawings she had ever seen looking closer to a photo than a simple drawing. She could even see little tufts of fur across the mare’s coat, as well as the unique texture of the hooves. She could have sworn that she could see each individual hair in the mane and tail, making it look like the drawing had taken hours to make.

Shocked, she flipped the page over, intending to watch this in action. She thought of exactly the same pony, thinking of it like a picture in its frame.

She could only watch in awe as the pen began to move at what seemed like rainboom speeds, moving to the point where she could no longer hear the scratch of lead on paper. The pencil began at the top, slowly moving its way down to the bottom of the page, leaving the image of a pony in its wake. She snorted when the pencil added what could only be assumed as a picture frame border on the edges of the paper, before it lifted away from the paper.

Sketch remained there staring at it for a good period of time. She could hardly believe it. This spell alone could save her career. The only thing that might stop her would be lack of inspiration, but sketch could have sworn that she saw something about that in the table of contents.

After some time, Sketch finally looked up, an intense smile on her face as she began to laugh. Pages began to fly from the notebook, the pen beginning its volley upon them. ‘With this spell I could do anything! I am practically an art god!’ Sketches laughter rang throughout the house catching no ears but her own.

Eventually she stopped laughing, Smile still present as she stared at the small floating pencil. She sighed happily, firmly believing that she just saved her career. She looked to the book that managed to make this trip well worth its time, wondering how she could have almost refrained from going.

She flipped the book open to a random page, curious of the other contents hidden within the saint of a book. She blinked in surprise when she landed on the same page that give her the spell in the first place. But instead of the title or the spell itself catching her eye, it was the warning.

Caution! Do not reverse the spell! Unexpected results may occur!

Her eyes narrowed, her brain wracking itself for anything negative that could result from something such as preforming the spell backwards, and when finding none, began to think of the positive.

‘Okay this spell is probably one of the best things that has happened to me in a long time, so I doubt the reverse of the spell would do much. I mean come on, what would it do? Disenchant the pencil? I could just preform the normal spell again!’

Sketch concentrated her aura, her horn glowing brighter than before. ‘Well, if it does disenchant the pencil than that will be easy to fix. And if it does nothing, well, than nothing really lost, right?’

Her horn began to brighten the entirety of the room, making it look like it was a room of windows hanging in the sunset. Sketch Pen’s horn let off a flash and a final spark, and Sketch became blinded with white light.

And then everything went dark.

Chapter Two

The void.

It is a wonder how such a simple word could cause such dramatic feelings in those that hear it. For some, it could inspire fear, and for others, a sense of wholeness. But, of course, the reason such a various amount of emotions appear from such a concept is due to its interpretation. One of the most widely accepted meanings for such a word is a lack of anything. It is seen as absolute nothingness, and to enter the void would be to become nothing as well.

Such a concept usually inspires fear in the ignorant of the world. For some the void is seen as what comes after death, and for some it could be seen as the highest position of being.

But at the moment, Sketch Pen could only reflect on such things as she herself floated in the abyss. It was quite an odd feeling, she thought, to lack a body and other senses. All that she had and was, was just simple thoughts, bouncing off the non-existent walls of nothingness.

At first she just assumed that she was blinded by the light that her spell had put off, that maybe her body was numbed as a result of magical burnout or a failed spell. Then came the panic, as the seconds, minutes, and possibly even hours passed by and such an absence of feeling did not fade back into feeling.

And finally, here she was, contemplating whether or not she truly managed to kill herself with a simple reversed spell. She wondered if a wall would appear if she willed it, just so she could throw her head against it. How could she have been so thickheaded in the first place as to reverse a spell that powerful that clearly stated NOT to reverse it? She hoped it was due to the rush of whatever it was when she realized the potential of this new spell, rather than her own stupidity like she feared.

She began to wonder what Golden Chisel would think when she saw her corpse on the floor, mentally sighing when she remembered how innocent she was, knowing that she would be traumatized. Sketches mind began to drift towards her families reactions. She knew that her parents loved her, even with their disappointment. They undoubtedly would be hit the hardest, their only daughter dead from her own greed.

She just began to realize that she did not need to worry of that, as she would be here forever, when she began to feel something new. It almost felt as though her mind was being sucked into a vortex, getting stronger as she got closer.

The feeling grew intense, and just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished leaving a feeling of numbness in her body. She felt incredibly light, but felt as though she could pick up the slightest of changes of whatever was happening around her.

She then felt one of the strangest feelings that she ever felt, as though something incredibly long and sharp was running through her. The feeling made its way downward, soon joined by similar feelings that seemed to sprout from nowhere. One of which began to make itself apparent nearby, a similar feeling appearing opposite.

As soon as those two feelings worked their magic, she could suddenly hear. The strange feelings were then accompanied by the familiar sound of pencil on paper, multiple tools on a single sheet she noted.

Next she felt and heard the tools make their way towards the front of her, right in front of what she could only assume to be her head. As they passed she managed to feel eyelids, as well as the eyes underneath them.

She began to pen her eyes, hoping to get a better frame of reference of where she was. Her eyes widened at what was happening to her body rather than the scenery.

Several drawn pencils were making their way down, drawing her body as they went. She could move her head but instantly regretted the action, as her body wasn’t entirely drawn yet, giving her an odd 2d look inside her own hollow body. She turned her head to look behind her, only for her shock to increase.

Behind her a very life-like pencil was busy drawing addition pencils, the latter moving towards Sketch to draw and fix any mistakes its brothers had made.

She looked down to find that her body had been completed, although her legs still needed some work, outline still visible. She simply could only stare in awe as a pencil below her began to draw the rest of her hoof, occasionally flipping over to erase any crooked lines.

Her vision was directed upward when a pencil entered her vision, aiming towards her mouth. When its job was finished she could finally breathe in the scent of freshly sharpened pencils and lead. The Same pencil also took its time to draw her mouth, allowing her the capability to speak.

She simply decided to wait whatever was happening to her body out, simply watching the pencils as they finished her body, as well as her mane and tail. She then blinked in surprise, as when the last line was drawn, every pencil stopped, freezing in mid-air before flying towards the non-drawn pencil.

Sketch Pen could only stare as each and every pencil formed a line before the larger real one. The line began to grow shorter, as the larger pencil flipped over, beginning to erase the drawn pencils.

Eventually she was left with just the large pencil. She stood there for a moment, expecting the large pencil to move, only to sigh when it just floated there. She attempted to piece together whatever just happened, straining her mind, only to find a single sentence.

“What… just happened?”

***

After a small amount of reflection of past events, Sketch finally decided to look about her new environment. She began to move, only to stop when she noticed an odd phenomenon.

‘Is that? Yeah it is.’ Sketch pen looked upwards, knowing that she was looking at the ceiling fan of Golden’s spare bedroom. She attempted to figure out how she could view not only the spare bedroom, but also this odd papery world about her.

Sketch took a moment to move her head at different angles, getting dizzy as the view of the bedroom and the paper world seemed to switch at random. She repeated this process, finally finding specific angles that would allow her to view either perspective.

She could only assume that she was a 2d drawing in a 2d medium in a 3d world, which she came from. This would mean that she could offer an explanation of why she could view either perspective, but still managed to confound her. She decided to look on the bright side, thankful that the doodle pad managed to stay open on its drop from the bed.

After getting adjusted to either perspective, she began to attempt to leave the 2d world into the 3d world, only to fail. Something seemed to be keeping her from moving into the 3d world, making Sketch snort in frustration.

She decided to take her mind off of it by exploring the new world around her. She moved for what seemed like only a couple seconds before she felt an odd feeling, like passing through a wall of molasses. She looked to where she had crossed, finding what almost looked like a gap between pages. She looked upward to find that the page terminated only about two yards above her.

She looked forward, attempting to see how exactly this dimension worked. She found that she could look through both perspectives but only halfway In each one, like standing in the middle of a doorway, attempting to look into both rooms at once.

She could see every page of her doodle pad, barely able to see even a glimpse of some of her earlier drawings. Each page was lined up, connected by their sides, like TVs lined up side-to-side at an electronics store.

Sketch blinked, wondering what a “TV” and an “electronics store” was and how they came to mind, before moving back to the task at hoof.

She sighed, moving back to the page she was originally drawn on. She slumped down, thinking of how she was going to get herself out of this mess. For one, she was effectively stuck here, having tried to escape already. And two, was that nopony was even inside of the house, Golden and her parents leaving for a party.

After some time of not getting any idea of escaping, Sketch Pen decided to just simply go for a walk, like she did back in Manehattan when she was bored. She began moving forward, only to be struck in the face by something.

She leapt back, readying herself for whatever foul beast was attacking, only to blink in surprise. The large pencil, the one she could only assume was the pencil with the non-reversed spell on it, sat floating before her. She noted that it was held aloft by a drawn unicorns aura before looking up, seeing a matching one on her own horn.

‘Am I still in control of it?’ as she contemplated the tool before her, she concentrated, thinking of a simple square in front of her. By the time she opened her eyes, half of a square was in front of her, the rest coming soon after. Once the drawing was complete, the pencil began to float in front of its new creation.

***

After some messing about with the pencil, still feeling giddy at the implications, Sketch Pen promptly became bored. She decided to wait for Golden to arrive home, hoping she could be taken to an expert unicorn to have whatever happened to her reversed.

With less than a thought, a small cottage stood in front of Sketch, the pencil levitating nearby. Sketch entered the house, a sudden tiredness overtaking her. She walked into a small bedroom, preparing to hop into it, before she noted something on the wall.

A Mirror.

Sketch Pen gulped, walking up to it. Before her stood the simple sketch of a lanky, short maned unicorn, with a nervous expression on her face. She noted what could only be described as a scar on the right side of her face, undoubtedly drawn when she collided with the pencil. In this world, she was but a simple unshaded, barely outlined, animated doodle.

Sketch seemed to stay there, staring at herself for hours. On the outside she wore an unreadable expression, her body in a neutral position. On the inside, however, her mind was reeling. She just couldn’t believe that this is what she had been reduced to, yet the proof was right in front of her. And to think that a simple spell done backwards was all it took…

Eventually Sketch Pen removed her gaze from the mirror, looking towards the bed. She sat down upon it, attempting to figure everything out. She had no clue how to escape this place, or if there even WAS a way to do so. Her next thought was of how her parents and Golden would think. Would they even check her doodle pad, or would they just assume she was dead and leave it at that?

Sketch sighed, telling herself that she could think of such questions after she had had some rest. She laid herself down, closing her eyes telling herself that everything would be solved in some way or another.

After a bit of time, Sketch got up eyes bleary. She knew that there would be no sleep tonight if she didn’t have some sort of comfort, or at the very least got her mind off recent events. She thought of what she could do, and remembered what she did when she was a foal.

The family cat, Juniper, was always there when Sketch was frightened or upset. Juniper would always climb in bed with her, cuddling up next to her when she needed it. Sketch frowned, knowing that there was no way Juniper could get to her here. An idea sparked to life within her head, a small smile adorning her face.

Sketch brought the large, out-of-place pencil to the window, only to frown when it would not fit. She then had another idea, a way to have a portable drawing tool at hoof whenever she needed it. She trotted outside, the pencil arriving nearby.

‘Well, the pencils that drew me were animated in a way, so maybe I could recreate one?’ Sketch Formed an image of a simple, pony sized pencil within her mind. When she opened her eyes, the large pencil was already retreating, seemingly eager to show off its new creation.

Sketch smiled, looking to the small writing utensil before her. After picking it up, carrying it to her room, she began to focus. Memories flooded back, the image of the black cat in the centerpiece. Instead of focusing on the larger pencil to do her bidding, she instead began to levitate the smaller pencil before her.

As each memory floated by, Sketch Pen struck the air with her tool of choice. With every image that sang to the wind as it traveled forth to the front of her mind, Sketch added line, a curve, and so on, where appropriate.

As Sketch finished, she allowed her eyes to open, taking in the image before her. She smiled at the simple doodle of a cat, barely caring of the numerous imperfections. Sketch began to walk to the bed, her smile only widening with each swing of her hooves.

‘Even if she can’t be here herself, at the very least she’s here in spirit.’ Sketch hopped onto the bed, recent events beginning to make their way into the background of her mind. She sighed happily as she grew comfortable, knowing that she was safe.

Sketches eyes grew wide as she felt something hop onto the bed, rubbing against her blanketed form. She slowly turned her head towards the being that shared her space.

The small doodle of a cat stared back, purring. It walked forward, meowing to Sketch. Sketch Pen promptly screamed.

Chapter Three

Sketch Pen was NOT enjoying her time her in this… well, whatever this place was.

So far she had literally been drawn, discovered that she was stuck inside her own doodle pad, nearly had her head taken off by a massive pencil, and now she had to deal with this.

It had taken around ten minutes for Sketch to stop hyperventilating, and another twenty to try to get the malfunctioning gears in her head to start spinning again. Even then, she still had no clue how this world worked.

Sketch Pen sat upon her haunches, staring past the wall in front of her. Juniper was on Sketches bed, purring as he laid on the warm spot sketch had made before she spotted the cat.

In Sketch’s defense, most would probably freak out when the thing you just created that you thought was inanimate decided to lay on your lap. Sketch turned toward the animated doodle, eyes narrowed.

How did Sketch not even consider the possibility of this? After all, the pencils that drew her were animated, as was she, considering what she was now. Sketch sighed, deciding that the best course of action would be to just sleep, letting her mind replenish its energy.

She trotted towards the bed, eyes narrowing further as she saw Juniper lying in the very middle of the bed. She hoped this Juniper was just as relaxed as the one back home, cringing at the thought of bloody cat claws.

Sketch blinked for a moment, wondering if it was even possible for her to bleed in this world. She shook her head simply thinking ‘later’. She grabbed the cat in her magic, setting him down on the edge of the bed, before jumping onto the life-saving mattress herself.

She settled in, smiling at the thought of being able to sleep. ‘How long has it been since I got any sleep? It took about half a day to get to Ponyville, coupled with the fact that it’s now night-‘ Sketch sighed a hoof covering her face. ‘Thinking tomorrow, sleep now’.

She removed her hoof from her face, only to cringe back at the cat that was now staring at her. She did not know why, but she had a very odd feeling as she looked to him, a strange mixture of wonder and fear.

Sketch picked Juniper up in her aura, setting him down on the floor. She sighed, closing her eyes. A meow burst her quiet serenity as Juniper simply hopped back on the bed. She picked the cat up, placing him on the end of the bed, grunting slightly as she did so. She glared at the persistent feline, grabbing him in her aura once more. The cat floated out of the room, as the door shut. Sketch sighed as she rolled over to face the opposite wall.

Sketch practically rolled off the bed as Juniper meowed again, sitting stock still on the beds edge. “How did you even-“ Sketch sighed as she massaged her temples. “I’m not going to be able to sleep around you, am I?”

Juniper meowed once more, looking as pleased as a terribly drawn doodle can get. Sketch rolled her eyes, contemplating simply just erasing him, before becoming sad and guilty at the thought. ‘Would that count as murder? I’m not sure I want to find out’.

Sketch sat down, contemplating what she could do to pass the time until somepony found her. After several moments a theory began to blossom. “I brought Juniper into this world because he worked as a protector,” she pondered. “When I was younger and sometimes got bored, I had a set of building blocks I would use to construct cities, I would even place some dolls and action figures within it just to make it seem more alive” she remembered.

Sketch then began to realize something. ‘Wait, so if everything that I create becomes animated… then what would happen if I were to create a city filled with ponies?’

The doodled unicorn rose, trotting out of the house, leaving the slumbering feline. She went to the next page, thinking she would not get enough space. Once she believed herself ready, she began to envision Manehatten in her mind’s eye, combining them with the memories of herself as a foal, playing with colorful building blocks.

The two visualizations impacted, thoroughly mixing into one big mess of dirty alleyways, and bright streetlights. She then focused her attention on the pencil by her side, commanding it to begin.

Sketch frowned when she remembered how small the personal writing utensil was, and got an idea. She called upon the bigger pencil instructing it to begin to replicate itself.

Before long, Sketch could feel a grand total of ten pencils under her influence, constructing the city of doodles. She took a moment to wonder at how she not only felt zero strain from preforming such high amounts of magic, but could command so many things with a simple thought. She chucked the thought behind her, realizing that her focus was waning as her mind wandered.

Sketch Pen began to feel the city’s spires reach the top of the paper, the roofs of such tall skyscrapers beginning to form. The city began to stretch, first taking up most of the first page, then a second, a third, before beginning to slow down.

She could feel the windows and doors, each support beam and terrace. It was almost as though she was connected to the city, a massive developing creature, with her as it’s brain. Her skin sensed the pavement washing over the streets, as she counted every brick fitting into its place.

Everything seemed to slow down, the pencils moving as though they were stuck in blocks of molasses. The city seemed to cease becoming and simply was. Sketch felt a calm (word out) overcome her as she opened her eyes to see genuine walls and streets.

“OH COME ON!” The cities walls were colorfully painted, the pavements of the streets looked close to cardboard, and every window was painted over. Sketch sighed, realizing that it was probably not a good idea to use memories of her playing with building blocks as a foundation for an actual city.

Her attention was then drawn to a specific detail, her ears perking up. ‘Wait… color?’

She looked to the pencils under her control, only to blink. Each Pencil was a different color, the only pencils retaining their typical monochrome being the original and Sketches personal pencil. She contemplated how gray pencils could create colored duplicates, before she realized that there was something off about the colored pencils.

‘They don’t even look like pencils. They look more like markers… but where…?’ Sketch blinked, before turning her attention to the 3D perspective beyond her papery world. Sure enough, the bag that Sketch had brought with her was open, revealing the different drawing utensils inside.

One such utensil lazily floated nearby, the colorful marker seemingly unable to get inside the doodle pad like its monochromatic cousin. Sketch Pen could only assume that the original pencil began to copy the marker since regular pencils could only draw in gray.

She turned her attention to the city before her, just now realizing how empty it was. She smiled, Pencils and markers floating behind her. “It’s time to increase the population...”

Sketch blinked before frowning. ‘That sounded better in my head. Oh well, time to add some ponies!’

***

Sketch gave the creature before her a scrutinizing look before shrugging. The creature in front of the doodle of a mare was supposed to be a griffin, but it seemed to look more like a foal’s interpretation of said creature. ‘Meh, I was never really good with drawing anything but ponies.’

The griffin’s eyes opened, and then began to blink in confusion. Sketch rolled her eyes before pointing at a large brick building. “Head in there, there should be a pony in there that could give you your apartment and tell you where you are.” The griffin only nodded, before walking towards the appointed building.

Ever since Sketch Pen had begun to create ponies, they seemed incredibly odd to her. None of them actually seemed to think they were in a doodle pad, nor think of themselves as drawings. Sketch seriously began to wonder if they were ponies teleported from Equestria, with Sketch the only one capable of seeing the world around them.

At first Sketch had only drawn ponies, but realized that she could draw whatever she desired in this place. Since then, griffins, dragons, zebras, as well as changelings had been added to her repertoire. She even attempted to draw creatures from myth and legend.

She did alright on certain ones, but when she got to the human, she screamed and began a barrage of erasers. She knew that she wasn’t the best artist in the world, but whatever that THING was… she wasn’t too sure she wanted to see it again. She could only wonder how certain ponies fall in love with that legend.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t keep any of the good mythical beasts, as any of the drawn ponies that saw them would scream and hide. So once she felt there were enough creatures roaming the streets, she began to contemplate what to do next.

Sketch was still tired, but she had gotten her mind off of everything that was bothering her, so she thought it was a good idea to try again.

Before she had the chance to head off, a few nervous looking ponies, as well as the griffin she sent off earlier, appeared before her.

“Oh, hello. Is there something I can help you with?” One of the ponies stepped forward, looking at the ground.

“Oh, yes, we checked with the pony at the front desk and she said that there were no more empty apartments. She said to check with you.”

Sketch blinked before frowning. “Alright, stay here, I’ll be right back.”

She walked towards the edge of the city several papers away, looking to the buildings. All she had to do was add another building then head to bed. Sketch Pen’s frown deepened when a yawn overtook her. She sighed, thinking she may not have enough focus to create an entire building.

Just then, she had an idea, and mentally called forth one of her pencils.

The pencil levitated to the side of the concentrated Sketch for several moments, before suddenly lurching forward to begin its new creation. ‘If I can’t make the rest of the buildings, then maybe somepony else can!’

The pencil finally stopped its barrage, floating back to its master’s side. Before Sketch Pen stood a terribly drawn duplicate of herself, blinking in confusion. The doppelganger noticed it’s sister and looked attentively to her.

“Hey there- well… me. You are in a world where you can use massive floating pencils that draw animated objects and do your bidding. While I’m back home, could you build some additional buildings like the ones next to them?” Sketch pointed to the nearby apartments.

Sketch Pens doppelganger stared at her with a confused look before simply shrugging. “Sure, why not? I guess I have nothing better to do.”

Sketch blinked before frowning. “Huh, did not expect you to sound different. Well, you sound nothing like me, so we may as well give you a different name.”

Sketch Pen took a moment to contemplate some new names for her… well, herself. ‘Sketching Pencil, Artists Work, Marky, Stencil…’ Sketches eyes widened, as a smile stretched across her face.

“Alright, what do you think about the name Stencil?” The duplicate took on a contemplating posture, before nodding. “Sure, that will work.”

“Great, so I’d recommend getting started on those buildings! I’ll be back in a couple of hours or so.” Sketch trotted across several pages, finally crossing the last barrier to arrive at the cottage.

Sketch sighed in relief when she saw Juniper on the living room couch, rather than her bed. Once in her room, Sketch sighed yet again, allowing the beds folds to envelope her.

‘Okay, just a small nap, enough to get me thinking clearly and figure out a way to get out of this mess.’ Sketches eyes began their rapid descent into a chasm of slumber.

***

Sketch was startled awake by an almost unbearable noise outside, coming from her window. She huffed, getting out of bed to see what the commotion was about.

“What’s going on out… here?” Sketch’s jaw dropped to the window sill as her eyes grew to the size of plates.

Outside the cottage, the city had grown in both length and complexity, several pages being drawn over. New buildings were being created in a matter of seconds, odd mechanical pencils drawing their works. Each strange pencil was being watched over by a duplicate of what Sketch could only assume was Stencil. The ponies made by Sketch were fleeing, shouting and screaming as the pencils made their way towards them, erasers threateningly forward.

Sketch could only watch in terror as one of the duplicates noticed her in the window, as the possessed pencil stopped chasing a nearby pony and changed course.

Chapter Four

Time slowed down to a crawl. Her heart pounded like a drum, attempting to make itself heard over the drone of tinnitus. Her brain went into overdrive, analyzing any and all potential threats. Limbs got a fresh new wave of oxygenated blood, beginning to work their way into position to dodge.

These were the same feelings that Sketch had felt when in battle, or at the very least, training with her father. At the time, it was an exhilarating feeling, one to be enjoyed as it lasted. But this time, everything was much different.

The only time she had ever experienced an adrenaline rush such as this was when she was mugged in one of the seedier neighborhoods in Manehatten. Even then, it was easy to rid herself of fear, especially considering how drunk the assailant was. But this time she couldn’t laugh at such a sight, nor could she do much else but flee.

Time seemed to catch up with itself, allowing Sketch Pen to throw herself to her right. The large, animated pencil few through the window, shattering the drawn glass and wood, before impaling the wall behind it. Sketch got onto her hooves, rushing out the bedroom door, quickening her pace as she heard the pencil beginning to worm its way out of the wall.

She rushed out of the front door, slamming it shut as she skidded to a stop. Sketch looked to the city she had built before only to gape at the sight. The colorful and foal-like brick was replaced by the telltale gray of steel. Large machinations covered the walls and streets, chomping away at any creature rushing by. Some of the smaller buildings made way for large smoke stacks, puffing out a noxious black smog that was slowly eating away at any open air.

Sketch grew even more horrified at what the smoke was being used for, as certain clouds of it were being drawn right back into the facilities. A particularly large puff of smoke made its way into the facility, and Sketch stared in horror as a massive clone of herself stepped out soon after. The clone was given a pencil made in the same manner, before moving to the edge of the city, beginning to draw buildings that were getting dangerously close to Sketch’s small cottage.

Sketch Pen turned preparing to gallop in the opposite direction, only to stop once more. On the very next page was the entrance to another city, looking almost the exact same way as its brother a couple pages over.

Sketch turned to the sound of wood splintering within her home, and caught a glimpse of one of several doppelgangers walking towards her. She turned once more, galloping in the opposite direction, into the darkened city.

Sketch sighed in relief at the sight of bare streets. No machinations, no clones, and no ponies. The least she could do was to look at the bright side of all of this. She slowed down to a trot when she thought she was deep enough into the city.

“There she is! Get her!” Sketch whirled around only to see a group of about ten or so clones, each with a pencil floating nearby. Sketch twirled around once more, intending on getting as far away as possible from this place.

Sketch began to see more and more light from the papery sky as she trotted further into the city. Not only that, but she noticed that the buildings she passed by seemed to be slowly losing detail. As she finally breached through the mist of smoke, she realized something that made her heart sink.

In front of her remained only a few pages left, with even those few being taken up by clones as they meticulously drew the massive city. A small construction crew slowly drew the city forward, taking up every bit of available page as possible.

Sketch Pen realized that if this continued, eventually every page would be taken up with this mechanical city, no room left for anything else. Even the small cottage she had made for herself would soon slowly succumb to the cities gritty walls and streets.

Sketch’s rage began to come to a boil. Turning a blank page into a work of art was one thing, as was covering an entire sketchbook. But this, this was something else.

Sketch Pen twirled around, a spell matrix forming upon her horn. Before long, a large pencil, animated and enchanted with the spell that brought her here stood hovering just in front of the frazzled unicorn.

The construction crew of clones noticed Sketch Pen when the light of her horn fired up to create the new pencil, and had called for any clones to help. Now a group of ten clones stood before Sketch, all armed with smaller versions of their own drawing utensils.

Before anypony could lunge at each other however, there came the sound of condescending laughter, echoing from the depths of the city’s mist. A darkened clone, flanked by two massive copies trotted out. Sketch Pen noted her original pencil floating above the head of the clone.

Sketch’s eyes grew wide. “Stencil? Is that you?” She paused, eyeing up Stencils darkened coat. “And why are you covered in soot?”

Stencil rolled her eyes, smirking at Sketch with a stereotypical villain look. “This is not soot! This is power incarnate!”

Sketch Pen backed away slightly. “Riiiiiight… look, there is no reason for all of this. How did a request to make a new building turn into covering each and every page with a gritty mechanical city that puffs out unbreathable smog? And what’s with the whole smoke thing anyway?”

“The smoke is what gives us our power! We have simply done what it told us to do! We will take any who are willing and change them with the smoke, while creating our own army using it.” Stencil huffed. “We are actually quite surprised. You can see the pages as we do, yet you deny the smokes power!"

Sketch sighed, facehoofing. “Where did you even get the idea of smoke fro-“ Sketch remembered the charcoal in her bag, wondering why she brought it, considering she hates the stuff. “Well, why can’t we just live in harmony? Why does it have to be smoke and only smoke?”

Stencil shook her head. “I think we can both see that this argument is going nowhere.” Stencil held out one of her hooves to Sketch. “Join us, and we can stand side by side as we liberate this world of ours.”

One of Sketch’s eyebrows rose. “And if I don’t?”

The original pencil floating above Stencil’s head aimed itself at Sketch. "Then you are erased from this world, like the rest of those who cannot see the glory of our rule!”

Sketch Pen aimed her pencil at Stencil, smirking. “Sorry, but I won’t let that happen.” Sketch felt as her blood began to pump faster, her heart revving up like an old motor. Her entire body tensed, mind focusing on any and all possible threats. Visions of combat played through her mind, each scenario giving her a new strategy to work with. The pencil beside her began its path to its target.

The pencil was almost immediately erased by Stencil’s.

An awkward silence fell on the entire page as Sketch simply looked at the spot where her pencil once was, her unreadable expression never turning to the smirking clone in front of her.

And with that, Sketch Pen turned, running as fast as possible, voice strained as she screamed her lungs out, going wherever was in the opposite direction of Stencil. She could hear the small army roaring to life, giving chase as Sketch attempted to find a magic spell somewhere in her meager vocabulary of matrixes to locate something that could get her out of this place.

Before long she had reached the last page in the sketchbook, the border between paper and air hanging like an imposing wall to those who dared leave. Sketch Pen hit the wall, pounding it with her hooves as she shouted for help.

Her hooves slowly slid to the ground as she decided to face her fate with some dignity, or at least, with however much was still left. The small battalion halted behind Stencil, who slowly strutted in front of Sketch Pen, blocking any hopes of exit.

Sketch Pen lowered her gaze, closing her eyes, as she awaited her doom.

She opened her eyes when instead of pain, she only heard shouts and screams of terror. A massive eraser seemed to break the border between the sketchbook and reality, erasing Sketch’s darkened doppelganger as well as her clones.

When she switched her perspective to that of reality, she could only shout with glee at the sight of golden chisel, eraser in hoof.

When the page was cleared of any extra Sketch Pens, Golden looked to Sketch with a concerned look. “I was gone for like, three hours! What Happened!?”

Sketch Pen chuckled. “Do you want the long or short version?”

“Uh, Short?”

“I tried to use a spell that gave me the power to draw whatever I imagined, but my curiosity go the better of me and I reversed the spell and ended up trapped inside this sketchbook. I ended up discovering that I could still use the spell and ended up drawing a cat that became animated. I used this to create a city filled with animated ponies, but was too lazy to finish it, so I ended up creating a clone of myself. Said clone then went power hungry or crazy or something else and tried to take over the sketchbook with a massive city. And now we’re here!”

Golden Chisel slowly blinked, mouth slightly open. She then blinked again before saying “What?”

Sketch Pen sighed, a small smile adorning her face, before looking to Golden again. “Sorry if I broke you. But I kinda need your help. Could you bring me to Twilight Sparkle? She had the book in the first place, so she should be able to help.”

Golden Chisel shook her head like a dog, attempting to get the gears in her head spinning again before nodding. She picked Sketch Pen, as well as the sketchbook she resided in up in her teeth, before galloping off to the castle of friendship.

***

“Whoa, whoa, hold it! Are you saying… this is permanent?” Sketch Pen looked to Twilight Sparkle, papery tears in her eyes.

Twilight Sparkle sighed. Her mane and tail were disheveled, large bags hung under her eyes, and she held an unmovable scowl upon her face. Considering how Sketch Pen and Golden Chisel had woken her up at about two in the morning, was one thing, but to bring something as complex as an unknown spell was definitely not what she had in mind that night.

“Listen, I’ve analyzed you with about five different spells already and I still don’t know what is going on. The only thing my magic is telling me is that I am looking at a regular sketchbook right now. What’s worse is that there is no record of the book you rented in the library archives. So for now, magic isn’t going to do much."

Sketch Pen looked to her, making twilight wonder how an animated sketch could cry. “B-but is it p-permanent?”

Twilight sighed, before jumping at the sound of a book slamming in front of her. She looked at Golden Chisel, who smiled innocently. “Got the book! So what did I miss?”

Twilight looked to where Golden was standing moments ago. “But you were just right there a moment ago- Oh merciful Celestia there’s another!” Her face met the table as she groaned aloud.

Golden Chisel looked to Sketch, shrugging, before she opened the book to the page Sketch had mentioned. “This is the spell?” She then blinked, before almost burying her face into the book. “This is a high level spell! How did you even manage to do this without some sort of burnout?”

Sketch Pen shrugged. “Didn’t even know that it WAS a high level spell. It was actually pretty easy to cast it. It did create one heck of a light show though.”

The three spent the next several hours pouring over magic books, (And by that I mean Sketch and Golden sat bored as Twilight used what seemed to be every spell in her capability.) When it was finally done, Twilight looked up, grabbing their attention.

“Alright, I’ve analyzed this spell and this book with about as many spells as I could, and I am sad to say that I don’t think you will be able to recover from this Sketch Pen.”

Sketch’s eyes began to water. “S-so this means i-it’s…”

“Yeah, it’s permanent. I am sorry, but I don’t think there is anything I can do.”

The dams that held back everything suddenly decided it had something better to do. Sketch Pen collapsed, her tears staining the page with watery graphite.

“Well, hey! It isn’t all that bad! After all, you got what the spell was supposed to give you, right?” Golden brought a hoof up to her muzzle, eyes turned upward. “And even if things didn’t turn out the way you expected it, guess what? You literally became art! Isn’t that like, all artists secret dream?”

When the sobbing didn’t stop, Golden’s ears drooped, before she simply decided to wait it out.

After a couple of minutes, Sketch finally stopped, hiccupping a few times before looking to Twilight. “Are you sure there is nothing you can do?”

Twilight gave a small smile to Sketch. “While I can’t do much to get you out of your predicament, I never said anything about your current medium.” She lifted up the spell book, revealing a new spell to Sketch Pen.

“I found this spell that actually deals with your situation. With this spell you can actually change artistic mediums! So if you ever want to start painting, or maybe get into something larger than a sketchbook, then this might help.”

She placed the book in front of Sketch, before rushing off, grabbing a blank notepad. “Come on! Let’s give this a try! I am actually quite curious to see how this works!”

Sketch read through the spell, wiping her eyes with a hoof, before she looked to the notepad.

Her horn glowed, and she felt her body get lighter…

Chapter Five: Epilogue

Sketch Pen lay silently in bed, covered with a large blanket. She silently woke up from the realm of sleep, murmuring to herself. She sighed happily when she found a comfortable spot on her bed, and began to drift away from the waking world.

Her eyes wearily blinked open when she remembered what she had planned that day. She sighed, before dragging her body out of the bed. She began to wearily lumber towards the large mirror on her wall.

Before her stood a complete drawing of a pony, complete with shading and full color. Sketch Pen happily sighed, her mind drifting to a time when she was a simple line drawing, a sketch.

She combed her mane and tail, as well as using a miniature colored pencil to brighten any color that had dulled. Once she was sure that everything was in its proper order and place, she began her day.

As she began work in her kitchen, Sketch Pen found herself thinking back on the time when this had all started. How long had it been, two, three years? She shook her head realizing that it didn’t matter.

She grabbed a small piece of graphite, using assorted utensils to grind it into a thin powder, before placing it in a pot, which was just then beginning to boil. After a few minutes of relative silence, a thick paste was produced, before being placed into a nearby oven.

Her mind drifted back in time, remembering how she had freaked out at the mere mention of anything she wasn’t able to do normally, which included eating. Surprisingly enough, twilight managed to figure out that Sketch needed something in her body that would prevent her from fading away. When she didn’t get enough of anything in her body, instead of getting hungry, she would simply start to dull in color and fade away.

Reality’s waves crashed on the shore of her mind at the sound of the oven finishing. She grabbed a towel in her mouth, before grabbing the tray. Inside was a gray loaf, which had become Sketch’s staple food when she needed something quick to eat.

Sketch Pen sliced off several bits of loaf, before a floating knife nearby spread a thick paste on the top. Graphite bread and colored pencil jam was surprisingly good when you happened to be an animated drawing.

Once she was done eating, she grabbed a small pair of saddlebags, which contained assorted art supplies in case inspiration randomly hit, as well as some additional food stuffs, just in case.

Sketch exited the small cottage where she had made her home, observing the room about her. It was the bedroom of her Manehattan apartment, with some slight modifications.

For one, literally every corner, wall, as well as the floor and ceiling was covered with paper, as well as assorted canvases, and blackboards. Secondly, the room had no furniture whatsoever, other than a small couch, sitting on the right side of the room.

Sketch grew in size until she matched the room’s dimensions. Her cottage was much smaller than the average home, considering the average pony could destroy it be simply stepping on the small structure. The only reason Sketch lived in the tiny home was simply due to the fact that it was the only way she felt she was in a 3D environment. Simply walking along the walls of her room was like attempting to go through a narrow alleyway.

She observed the rest of the apartment, with its papery walls and lack of furniture. The only furniture that was there was for guests if they decided to come around.

Sketch Pen blinked when she heard the doorbell ringing, before she changed direction to answer it. She then facehoofed when she remembered that she was invited to go to Canterlot with her parents as well as Golden’s family to attend the Summer’s sun celebration.

Her mind drifted to her parents rushing to Ponyville when they had heard of what happened. To say that they were surprised was an understatement. At the time, Sketch’s emotions were gushing like a river out of her, and she ended up telling them of everything that had happened in the past, including how terribly Sketch felt and why she left Canterlot in the first place.

Her parents stunned her by telling her that they had never been disappointed with her becoming an artist and were quite happy with her when she had gotten her cutie mark. The only time they had been disappointed was when they realized that all of that guard training was kind of a waste of time, when they could have been helping Sketch find her cutie mark.

Sketch mentally chuckled, wondering what her face looked like after being told that. She blinked and trotted when the doorbell rang again, snapping her out of her trance. She arrived at her door, as well as the odd contraption in front of it.

Another disadvantage of being in a 2D plain compared to 3D was simply that Sketch couldn’t answer a door to greet a guest. The first time she discovered this was when one of the doctors sent by Canterlot came by, only to be greeted by a door opening on its own and nopony to greet him.

So Sketch simply took some foam board, folding it so it stood up on its own, so that she could teleport into it and greet whoever happened to be at the door.

The door opened revealing Golden Chisel, her mane done up in a ponytail, as well as a pair of saddlebags upon her back.

Her smile widened at the sight of Sketch. “Hey Sketchie! Are ya ready to go?”

Sketch caught Golden’s contagious smile. “Guess so.”

Golden blinked, before looking at Sketch in confusion. “Umm, how should I carry you?”

It was Sketch’s turn to blink. “Oh! Right, this should do.” A large sketch pad floated into view. “I figured I would be in a large one so everyone could see me in a somewhat pony-sized manner.”

Sketch Pen’s horn began to glow, a brightness quite visible in the darkness that surrounded the two mares. Then, a bright flash and a popping sound arose from the now blank foam board. A slightly more subdued pop and flash later and Sketch was on the front page of the sketch pad.

“Eugh, I don’t think I will ever get used to that.”

Golden simply giggled. “Just try to think about what Twilight said: ‘It’s like teleporting, except INTO something rather than near it!’”

Golden looked down at a watch that wasn’t there a second ago. “Oh, we better get a move on! We might be late to our train!” Golden reached down picking up the sketch pad and putting it into her saddlebags, from which muffled protests could be heard.

Golden closed Sketch’s door, before rushing off to the train station.

***

Sketch Pen sighed. She knew Golden really didn’t know that she did it, it was just that this was getting pretty annoying quickly. Granted, being stuffed into a saddlebag for several hours wasn’t really that bad when you could create anything you wanted to stave off boredom.

She spent her time creating her own version of Ponyville, adding touches of different cities and even some more woody themes as well. By the time the town and its inhabitants were created however, she noticed that Golden wasn’t on the train anymore and began to erase.

Her mind drifted back to a time when she considered that murder. Granted, it was kind of a form of it, but those erased didn’t really die. When drawn back into a medium after being erased, they remembered everything, including being completely erased. They described it as a sort of hibernation, an elongated dreamless sleep.

She chuckled at the memory when she accidentally erased her first pony. She was doing a commission of Twilight and her friends, but had been incredibly drowsy and had forgotten to prevent the characters from becoming animated. As she was putting some details on Rarity, a half drawn Pinkie Pie had come up behind her to give her a hug, only for Sketch to scream and erase her.

She had spent the next several minutes hyperventilating, not sure what to do. She figured she could just get away with it, and just drew Pinkie Pie once more, only for her to shout ‘Again! Again!’

She still had a difficult time erasing any of her work, and if she drew something that just didn’t work out, she would take some time off to redraw it in a better style. She even took the time to bring back Stencil, just to see why she went as bonkers as she did. Sure enough, Stencil remembered everything and vowed to destroy everything and everyone Sketch loved, only for Sketch to erase her mouth as she tried to figure out how Stencil went crazy.

Sure enough, it was the charcoal as she predicted. Just thinking about the stuff and how messy it go everything was enough to put a frown on her muzzle.

When Stencil drew the building that was requested of her, she thought the building needed more color, that it simply needed to stand out. So when she discovered she could not only change her perspective, but that Sketch had art supplies nearby, she decided to experiment.

After giving it some thought, Sketch decided to give Stencil a small section of her apartment, somehow managing to convince her to experiment with other utensils. Nowadays, Stencil had made multiple commissions, and was known for her animated paintings.

Sketch chuckled at the memory, but was not given enough time to ponder on it more as she felt the sketch pad lift into the air. When the cover was lifted off of the front page, she got a good look of where she was, as well as WHO she was with.

Her parents sat upon the grass of a hillside that they often went to for training when she was a filly. The hill stood facing the east, nothing but endless woods could be seen beyond it. Upon the hill was Golden’s family as well, which included her parents and younger brother. Everyone looked at Sketch with smiles that seemed to brighten up the night around them, all except Golden’s younger brother, who simply looked at Sketch in wonder.

Golden Chisel placed the sketch pad close to Sketch’s parents, propping it up with a nearby rock. Sketch’s mother nuzzled the sketch pad, while her father simply smiled at Sketch.

“Hey Hun, how are you doing? How’s life in Manehattan working out for you?” Sketch’s mother sat back giving Sketch a suggestive eye wiggle. “Are we going to have any little doodles running around in there any time soon?”

Sketch looked horrified, while Sketch’s father simply chuckled. “Come now, we shouldn’t pester her with questions just yet. The sun is about to rise! We can ask questions after that.”

Sketch sighed in relief, while her mother pouted. Everypony got comfortable, turning towards the east to view the sunrise. Sketch’s mother turned the sketch pad towards the now approaching light from the horizon.

Everypony sat back, and watched as the beautiful colors of pink, blue, orange, and yellow danced across the sky, adding violet and red at several intervals in their dance of salutations. The first arc of the sun peaked across the horizon, a large brilliant glow of orange erupting from Canterlot making the sun speed up its pace. Soon enough, the sun was in the sky, the bright orb of light clinging to the sky like a flame on a torch.

Everypony cheered, while some simply sighed happily. Sketch remembered what she brought her art supplies for, and she began to dig them out. Sketch’s mother turned towards Sketch, mouth dilled with awaiting questions, only to pout at the sight of the sketch pad surrounded with different paints, tools, utensils, and canvases.

Sketch’s father chuckled at the sight, before noticing the unusual silence. He turned before his eyes widened and he bowed to the ground. His wife turned at the sound of him coughing before doing the same.

“Come on, where did I put that wide brush?! It has to be here somewhere!” She paused as she heard a light chuckle and her chest tightened. She looked up, only to regret doing so as she practically scraped her horn off with a drawn easel.

Before her stood not only Princess Celestia, the alicorn of the sun, but Princess Luna as well, the alicorn of the moon.

“Good morning Sketch Pen! I see you have come out to view the rising of the sun. Quite a beautiful view of the countryside is it not?”

Sketch simply nodded, quite literally scraping her horn off with the easel in front of her. Luna simply chuckled, before taking a nearby pencil and drawing it back on.

“There is no need to be afraid little one, we have met before, if you can recall. I am actually here for a similar matter. My sister here believes that the sun court is quite sterile looking, and wishes for some change. We wish to commission thou for thine- I mean, YOUR artwork.”

Sketch Pen looked up to the too immortal beings that wanted HER artwork in the court room. If she hadn’t met Luna in the past, she probably would have fainted right then and there.

Instead she looked to the small easel in front of her, and inspiration stuck her like an arrow.