The Final Season

by Alexshy

Rating: teen
Tags: Death, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Spike, Comedy, Other, Random
Length: 2415

The final season of MLP:FIM is announced. Spike has worries, like many fans here, and Twilight reassures him. She tries herself in literature as well. The question is: whose writing is... stronger?!

The final season of MLP:FIM is announced. Spike has worries, like many fans here, and Twilight reassures him. She tries herself in literature as well. The question is: whose writing is... stronger?!

This story is a one-shot response to the [not so]recent news about Season 9 being the "swan song" of the show and specifically the hype it caused in the community. After watching tons of posts: from adequate and reassuring ones (saying that FiM is now more the community than the official show) to panicking or even trollish (in scare-mongering style). Obviously, I couldn't let it slide past me and decided to provide mine own insight.

The story [ab]uses the "noosphere concept" introduced in The Guardian book, adding some new perspective to it. But it can freely be read as a separate thing.
I admit, I had a fair dose of spiteful fun :moustache:
Don't judge it overly seriously, folks! Mind the "Comedy" tag.
All similarities with the real persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

Published 2019-03-26 21:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-03-26 21:20:01 UTC

The Final Season

“Twilight! Twilight!” Spike was to repeat his call a couple of times, as usual, to finally get the princess’ attention, which was entirely devoted afore to the book she read.

“Yes, Spike,” the girl turned to face her faithful aide, hesitantly staggering in the doorway of her study. The worried expression on the face of the little dragon made her smile fade; seeing his serious concern, Twilight prepared to treat the question with all possible care. “You look… puzzled, mildly neighing. What’s bothering you, mate?”

She remembered Spike looking pensive ever since their visit to Canterlot Castle, they were invited for the weekend. He was deep into his thoughts during their ride back to Ponyville Sunday night, answering absently and monosyllabically. Back then Twilight thought Spike got simply tired and tried to avoid bothering him much; she carried him to his room, when he dozed off into his restless sleep, muttering something quietly.

Now it was about noon, Monday, and Spike’s face expressed the same degree of unrest, if not worse.

“Come in and tell, the books can wait, when my friend is in trouble.”

“Sorry, Twi…” Now a fair portion of embarrassment mixed added to his mien, even after all those years Spike didn’t like to bother reading or studying Twilight; he nested at the very edge of the free chair. “That’s about our visit to the princesses… You surely remember the Sunday evening. You played chess with princess Luna, I must admit lately your progress is significant, she was troubled a few times… or maybe it’s because she just woke,” a sly smile slid across Spike’s face, but the concern regained positions quickly. “Princess Celestia doesn’t like chess as much as you two. She offered me to have a peek through her magic mirror, while you both were thinking deep for a long while.”

“And?” Twilight watched Spike with growing interest, guessing what could unbalance her usually calm and unflappable companion.

“You know that among other functions it can show the other worlds, right? Specifically, so-called Earth,” Spike squinted as if the recent memory was far from soothing. “The princess thought that a few scenes of human life could be interesting…”

“Quite so,” Twilight sported a smile. “As long as you don’t focus on the news, or politics, or stock reports.”

“Well, they were to a certain moment…” Spike blinked, the joke passed, but didn’t provide the desired effect, making Twilight worry a bit. “That refers to that “noosphere concept” or how it is called… As we know, humans have some knowledge about Equus and even making an animated show… miraculously precisely describing some aspects. Even strikingly precisely, I say.”

Twilight nodded, turning her whole body to face the dragon, now she was overly interested in what he could spot in Celestia’s magic mirror.

“Among the rest, I saw the news that the show authors plan to end it… going to air the final season. Whichever they plans are they won’t be telling about our current life anymore, even if still keeping the general Equus theme!” Spike hurried to voice his concerns, fiddling nervously on his seat. “To my mind, we can safely admit the interconnection and influence between our world and Earth…”

He took a breath, Twilight kept polite silence, not catching yet the route of his conclusions.

“…I thought,” continued Spike quietly. “What if the door opens in both directions? What could we probably expect if…” he fell silent, stifling a nervous sigh.

“Oh!” Twilight suppressed the unwelcome in that situation smile and glanced at her little aide with all the possible seriousness, despite catching up to his concerns amused her inwardly. “I think I know where you are extrapolating, mate.”

Spike nodded doomedly.

“I’m sure it’s not that simple, Spike,” Twilight put her fore hoof over the mouth pensively, at the same time sending him the most reassuring glance. “And not nearly as menacing as you dread!” She allowed herself a little smile, noticing that Spike’s strained posture relaxed a tiny bit. “We know about that show – yes, and we know where it started from, right?”

Spike nodded again, raising his eyes at Twilight hopefully.

“What about Starswirl then, about the princesses’ life before Luna’s banishment, their parents, the great wars of the past?” Twilight stared at him inquiringly. “About all the Equestrian history at the end of the day? Those events existed even without the show mentioning every moment of them!” She raised one eyebrow meaningfully, making the collocutor think her expression looked quite like Luna’s at that moment.

“Well…” Spike inhaled, Twilight arguments provoked thoughts. Moreover, they promised reasonable safety of the mind. However, something still bothered him. “I… didn’t witness those events either…” added he barely audible.

“Spike, Spike!” with a smile Twilight brought her fore hooves together. “Okay! Let’s take something… more recent, if you say so. I kept some track of that show, which worried you so much. Do you remember, what happened after your hatching and till our first day in Ponyville?”

“I do, mostly…” Spike looked at her still not getting the drift. Twilight nodded and continued.

“How you grew and how I took care of you? How I studied at Celestia’s School for gifted unicorns… and you helped me as you only could? How you cracked your baby tooth on the gem? How I spent whole days between the heaps of books and fell asleep there, and you learned to cook to keep my oblivious self nourished?” Twilight listed and with each question the smile returned to Spike’s face, which regained usual expression little by little. “How we found out you can… burp mail? Even how you called me “mom” once, shortly after hatching…” the girl giggled and Spike flushed like ruby for a moment.

“So… You think it’s not that serious or… fraught with consequences,” overcoming the confusion Spike glanced at her with hope.

“Of course, Spike! Just look outside,” Twilight’s aura enveloped the handle, opening the window and letting the fresh April breeze in. “It’s spring, pal! Cheer up! The world is not going to end because somepony somewhere stops writing something! We can return to that topic later if you want. When you see that life is actually brighter,” added she with a kind smile.

*

The elements went wild, skies darkened in a matter of minutes and the strong wind drove low heavy clouds fast, promising the approaching storm. The lightning flashes went off one by one, making the windows tremble and rattle with thunder strikes each new stronger than the last one. Truth be told the flashes were the only bright thing outside as the dust raised in the air in addition to the falling darkness, making it impossible to see something clearly, except leaves and small twigs the wind dragged past the glass.

Rainbow Dash slipped inside the last moment before the storm became especially violent. She took her breath and hugged Twilight warmly.

“Thank Celestia, it’s not my shift tonight!” dropped she, sneezing a couple of times because of the dust. “We issued a weather warning yesterday, yet I failed to get home in time. Mind if I stay for the night, Twi?”

“Of course, it goes without neighing,” Twilight welcomed her ruffled friend to have a sit closer to the fireplace. “I really hope everypony stays at home tonight; can only pity those who have a misfortune to work or fall late outside,” she shuddered lightly. However, the fire crackled in the hearth, providing warmth and homely feel, and the tea with cookies smelled of vanilla tranquillity, as if quietly telling all the present, they were safe.

“Yeah…” Rainbow flopped into the armchair, folding her wings. “We checked outside a couple of hours before the storm, it seemed nopony was that hay-head to ignore the warning,” she threw a quick glance at Spike, who occupied the next armchair and looked not the brightest. His concerned face competed with his spikes in colour, despite nopony could imagine that possible, and the little dragon listened alarmingly to the cacophony of chaos outside.

A new thunder strike ripped so loudly, it seemed the skies were going to crash and bury the castle with all the inhabitants. Spike twitched and swallowed convulsively.

“It sounds like the whole Tartarus broke loose!” squeezed he, meeting Twilight’s glance; the girl noticed the familiar fear and concern in his eyes. Spike squinted, holding onto his stomach.

“Miss Sparkle, I don’t feel so good…”

Suddenly Twilight recalled the almost half a year old talk, Spike’s expression and anxiety became explicable at once and the young princess smiled delicately.

“That’s because you shouldn’t have eaten so much ice-cream, Spike,” sighed she, shaking her head slowly. “You know, you always suffer from the excess of it, yet each time it’s the same. Save your stomach for the Nightmare Night treats, mate, it’s only two days to the celebration.”

“It’s the whole two days…” muttered Spike meaningfully, but Twilight heard him well.

“Spike, it’s just a storm, don’t be a scaredy-dragon! Better go to sleep, tomorrow there will be another day.”

Still frowning Spike headed to his room indeed, muttering something under his nose. Rainbow Dash followed his receding back, then turned to Twilight in surprise.

“Which fly bit him today?” chuckled she, shaking her colourful short mane. “It’s just a storm, sorta… We issued it specifically tonight, to guarantee the hundred per cent good weather for the Nightmare Night. I will so go bonkers with pranking this year!” she stretched dreamily.

Twilight looked at her friend fixedly, raising one eyebrow. ‘Don’t even ask!’ told her glance.

*

He was awakened by the sunlight hitting his eyes all of the sudden. Spike shook his head and barely open one eye to see Twilight cheerfully opening the curtains. There was no sign of yesterdays cataclysm outside, the Sun was shining brightly on the clear sky and the weather looked perfect for the late October.

“Oh, come on!” groaned Spike squinting and trying to hide from the rays, impudently sneaking into his eyes each time. “Can I once have a bit more sleep. Especially after yesterday’s troubles…” the gurgling of his stomach signalled about less than perfect condition. He fiddled for a short while, then gave up and sat in his bed, rubbing his eyes.

“What are you working on?” wondered he, finally shaking off the remnants of sleep; Twilight levitated a few sheets of paper and a quill.

“Errmmm… Remember I was writing a story about a human,” Twilight’s nose got pinkish. “A common human… well, not overly common, I made him a movie director, bringing into the story business troubles, marketing shenanigans, typical corporate everyday stuff, studios competition and…” seeing Spike’s eyes dilating involuntarily, she stopped, then continued closer to the point. “I thought it could be interesting for the egg-heads like me only, but it was so dissimilar to the ponies’ everyday life that… surprisingly got accepted quite well. I even managed to win the certain audience, not that broad like A.K. Yearling,” Twilight let out a giggle. “Still I wrote and published a few amateurish… errmmm… seasons for my readers.”

Spike made an effort to suppress his initial awe, he knew about his friend’s literary exercise, but could hardly imagine it gains such momentum throughout a few years. He blinked a few times and cleared his throat, forgetting he was going to leave the bed.

“So what’s the problem Twi?” Spike realized that she was expecting some reaction from him, guessing which exactly.

“You see,” the alicorn writer hesitated a little. “Despite the benefits and interest, I think that the idea wore out itself and it should be the end of the story. I am in certain trouble henceforth.”

“What do you think, Spike? How could I “get rid” of the main character finally, not giving the readers any hopes for any continuation of that plot?” elaborated she finally, flushing again.

Spike scratched the back of his head puzzledly, huffed, then smirked slyly.

“Well, Twi, you need something trivial, pretty common in “human style”, yet unequivocal for the readers. As you put it, he isn’t a young colt… maybe a sudden heart attack or something along these lines. So, you can mention his heritage briefly and… round the plot.”

“Don’t you think… it’s a bit… much?” Twilight stared at him surprisingly; she didn’t forget to make quick notes though.

“Hmpf, it’s not the death in the claws of Manticore at least!” huffed Spike. “You asked for something simple and at the same time leaving no ambiguity, right?” he jumped off the bed. “Know what? You’re right, Twi, it’s another day and the weather looks awesome. Let’s go for a walk: you’ll get your idea fleshed out and I… I prepare myself for the upcoming Nightmare Night,” Spike winked, rubbing his stomach.

*

The hum of voices and car horns mixed in the air, warm totally non-autumn-like, as usually in the big cities. The silhouettes of people and vehicles trembled in the heated air tainted by gasoline and other typical urban scents, looking dark against the lower October sun. It was the business centre of the city: office buildings, shops, restaurants, the omnipresent mass of people, cars slowly making their way through filled streets.

A crowd started forming in front of the large shop façade, skirting around the parked automobiles and growing fast. The distant siren announced the ambulance arrival, which tried to pierce the quickly gathering traffic jam, the root of which was a large car clumsily blocking the road diagonally.

A cyclist passing by stopped and watched the incident with growing interest. Not going to deepen into the crowd he addressed the man coming his way from the scene.

“Excuse me, sir, do you know what happened? What’s all the fuss about?”

“Some chap felt bad out of the blue,” the passerby stopped and shrugged, telling the story briefly. “He exited the shop, got into his car and suddenly his own “engine” got jammed,” he sighed sympathetically. “Thankfully the poor guy managed to hit the brakes. He blocked the street still,” the man pointed at the car.

The ambulance slipped through the jam, using some “magic” only the experienced ambulance drivers possess; medics slid the stretcher inside at the moment and the face of the sufferer was clearly visible.

“Hmm… He looks strangely familiar to me,” muttered the cyclist, fixing his helmet.

“No wonder. The guy is some TV show director or something like that,” dropped the man.