Fifteen years ago.
“It’s done.”
Ink Weaver sighed. He’d finally finished his masterpiece, if you could call it that.
Ink Weaver was a moderately successful author, his books never sold as much as say, Daring Do or Harry Trotter but they had enough impact to get a sort of cult following. But the last book had finally made enough for him to slip the shackles of a working pony’s life and move on into retirement.
Ink Weaver wasn’t anything special appearance-wise; he was an average sized unicorn with pale yellow fur and a light grey mane with a quill and ink pot on his flank, his only defining feature were his eyes, a deep green in colour, hiding behind his round spectacles, he was getting on it years and was what most ponies would consider ‘middle-aged’ and nearing the transition to elderly.
“Yes, retirement sounds good; I hear Roam is a good place for retirement.” He said to no one in particular.
Ten years ago.
“But Dad, it’s my birthday…” groaned the filly.
“Sorry sweetie, it’s time for bed.” The stallion said, exhausted.
“At least let me show you how good I’ve gotten at reading.” She pleaded.
“Sweetie…”
“Pleeeaaase?” Her eyes growing larger.
“Okay then, but you’re going to bed right after alright?”
“Yay!”
The small filly quickly rushed over to her bookshelf and focused on a book, it had a green cover and wasn’t particularly large but she hadn’t read it before and that took precedence over all.
“Dusthoof ran, he didn’t know where he was running but he knew he had to get out of here.
‘There he is! Get after him!’ came a gruff voice from his left so he went right.
After another minute of running Dusthoof found himself in a rundown bakery, he waited there for a moment, catching his breath.
‘I heard something from in here’ called a voice from behind the front door.
‘Well knock it down then!’ spoke another voice, this one with a more authoritative tone.
Dusthoof ducked behind the counter just in time before a shower of splinters rained down in the bakery as the door imploded inwards.
Two stallions came in, the first a large earth pony with dark grey fur and a black mane pushed back, with a knife for a cutie mark, he wore a black vest covering his upper torso and forelegs and a necklace with a clover charm. The second was a small unicorn with bone white fur and a light yellow mane cut so short it was hard to tell it was even there, his cutie mark was of a burning house.
‘Oh Dusthoof, come out.’ said the second stallion.
‘Uh boss, I don’t think he’s here.’ said the first.
‘Of course you don’t think he’s here! You don’t think in the first place Basta!’
The second stallion then proceeded to light the bakery on fire with erratic bursts of magic.
‘Come on out Dusthoof! It’s death by the fire you so love to play with or death by Basta’s knives!’
Dusthoof couldn’t see a way out of his predicament so he decided to face them head on.
‘Basta, Capricorn! How nice to see the two of you, still insane I presume?’
‘Ahh Dusthoof, as quick tongued as you are sly. It would seem our game of cat and mouse has finally come to an end.’ Capricorn spoke, words full of venom.
Basta slid a knife out of his sleeve and pointed it at Dusthoof.
‘I’m going to enjoy this firedancer.’ He spat.
A loud cracking noise filled the air as the fire reached the wooden beams supporting the roof.
‘How about we finish this outside Capricorn? It’s getting a bit hot for my liking.” Dusthoof shouted before jumping through a nearby window.
‘Blast it, after him Basta!’
Basta then followed Dusthoof through the window, taking the frame and parts of the now-weakened wall with him, Capricorn calmly followed him through the gaping hole in the wall.
Dusthoof was already running, but not before Capricorn could combust the ground in front of him, Dusthoof turned around, facing the light. He was an average sized pegasi, his fur a sandy yellow, along with a long pale orange mane which covered most of his head besides his face, he had three long lines down his face, souvenirs from a previous encounter with Basta, his cutie mark was of an open flame, he wore a satchel over his back which was smeared with ash and soot. But his most recognisable feature were his wing, the same sandy colour as his fur for the beginning but charred black as they went further on.
‘I’ve wanted to do this for a long time firedancer.’ Basta said, slowly approaching Dusthoof, with his knife raised.
‘Such a long, long time.’”
A sudden crash from outside broke the concentration of the filly and she dropped the book, her father shook his head as if coming out of a daze.
“Come on, time for bed.”
“Okay dad, thanks for letting me stay up and read”
“You’re a great reader you should be proud, I know I am.”
“Night dad” the filly yawned.
“Goodnight Twilight, happy eighth birthday” the stallion said as he tucked her in.
Neither of them noticed the disappearance of a moth flying just outside the window, their cat and an unfortunate jogger running by their house, just as neither of them noticed the three stallions that suddenly appeared in their backyard, and nobody noticed Dusthoof as he escaped silently into the night.
Present day.
Spike was on edge, it was Twilight’s birthday and he still didn’t have a present for her. He’d been looking through all the stores in Ponyville but couldn’t find a thing.
“What do you find a pony who loves books? A book of course!” Spike muttered to himself.
“But nooo… Twilight lives in a library so she already has most of the books in Ponyville…”
As he continued to mutter to himself he wandered down the main street looking for anything that looked remotely bookish, he found himself walking into a used book store, he searched the shelves but found all the same old books he’d seen before, except these were in worse condition.
“Daring Do and the Invincible Refrigerator, got it. Harry Trotter and the Enchanter’s Emerald, have it. Fifty Shades of Neigh, Rarity borrowed it.”
“Hmm, I don’t think the library has this book.”
Spike climbed up the bookcase and pulled down a book, it had a coarse green binding and cover with the title of the book and its author inscribed with gold thread on the side.
‘Inkheart by Ink Weaver’
This is my first ever fic, so all criticism is welcome.
I hope you enjoyed the prologue of what is to hopefully be a long and enjoyable story.
