Author's Note

This chapter answers the question "what would happen if Twilight found out about human history?" It was probably one of the most difficult chapters I've ever written, but I was glad to be able to end it nicely and happily. Enjoy!

Two Sides to Every Story

Twilight couldn’t say anything more. She became choked up and I swore I saw her eyes cloud over. The mistiness spoke of her deep feelings about something, and she gulped her cries back down. She was trying not to weep in front of me, but she was failing in that endeavor. So I moved forward and put a comforting hoof on hers. I didn’t stop to think that I might be breaking some Equestrian statute about touching the Princess, but even if I had, I would not have cared. All I saw was my new friend hurting, and I felt compelled to help soothe the beast that had awakened inside her. She shivered a bit and then clasped my own hoof with her other one before whispering in my ear. “Thank you,” she said, “now please, come with me.”

She led me out of her library and back down the long hallways of the castle. The Princess’s sadness seemed to have cause the sun itself to grow darker, and things didn’t seem as happy and joyful as they had before. Even I was beginning to grow sad. The small buds of romantic feelings that had sprouted in my heart were growing, slowly but surely, and I couldn’t bear to see Twilight hurting. Every ounce of my heart ached for her, and I wondered what had caused her emotions to suffer such a tremendous setback. I didn’t say anything, but waited patiently for the answers that some part of me said were coming.

After climbing two flights of stairs, we arrived at yet another large door. Man, do they know how to build small rooms here? I asked myself before Twilight used her magic to open it. She stepped inside and then turned to me. “These are my private quarters,” she said, “I normally only let a few select ponies in here, but you need to see what we’ve been researching.” With that, she stepped inside and I followed suit.

The room was massive, with a few towering bookcases sheltering more of Twilight’s obsession with the written word. There was a huge four-poster bed sitting in the middle of the room, and a large stained glass window depicted Twilight’s graceful beauty as she weaved magic over Equestria. I saw ponies dancing together in her light on the left side of the picture, and sleeping peacefully under a blanket of stars on the right side. Between the day and the night, it became apparent that Twilight was not only the ruler of all, but also a friend to all.

“Wow…” I breathed in awe.

She turned back around and stepped up beside me. My peripheral vision indicated that she had managed a small smile through her sadness. “I see you like the new window,” she said, “my friends had it commissioned a while back as a coronation present to me and it was just finished last week. I think it’s a beautiful representation of just what the ponies in Ponyville mean to me, as well as everypony else. But, sadly, I do not believe that your race quite gets the concepts of friendship.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come,” she said as she beckoned me with a hoof. We walked over to where a large book sat on a pedestal. Its torn pages told of the wear of time, but the information it held was still valuable, especially to Twilight. “This is a book of human history,” Twilight said, “sent to me by my dearest human friend, Sunset Shimmer. On my last journey to your world, I made a small request for some human literature, and she was gracious enough to send some. But once I delved into your history, I began weeping. I wept until I could not stop weeping. Some of my aides had to carry me to my bed and I had to undergo a full emotional evaluation. But even through my many tears, I still kept reading this. I had to know…would humanity ever redeem itself? It seemed that, outside of Canterlot City, humans were despicable, disgraceful creatures! I mean, war, death, destruction, famine, poverty, corruption, murder, rape, the list of horrible things goes on and on! How can people do these things to each other?!”

She never showed a sliver of anger in her accusations, only a deep hurt and sadness that the wonders of friendship apparently did not transcend outside of Canterlot City and the surrounding bubble. She pointed with a hoof to a picture of a small man with black hair combed perfectly and a tiny mustache. He had his hand out in some kind of salute, and the people he was addressing saluted back. I shuddered as I recognized the photo and the man Twilight was pointing out.

“This man, Adolf Hitler! He put people into awful, horrific death camps simply because they were different from him! Did he not understand the fundamental concept that friendship is all about accepting and embracing differences?”

I wanted to tell her that Hitler didn’t understand basic decency, let alone the concepts of friendship, but she went on. She turned the pages until she pointed out another man in uniform, only he looked a little more stoic. “This man, Joseph Stalin! He forced people to live in horrible conditions, and put anyone who disagreed with his evil method called ‘communism’ to death! Did he not understand that friends can disagree and still remain friends?”

My heart was hurting, and I felt like weeping on her shoulder, because a huge part of what she was saying was absolutely correct. There were many humans throughout history who had committed evil and treachery. They had taken our race’s name and smeared it through the mud of time before beheading it and allowing the blood to taint our legacy. Now it was my turn to gulp back the cries, and I found it extremely difficult to do so.

Then she turned the page and there sat a bearded man. “Finally, this man, Osama Bin Laden, a man whose religious beliefs caused him to tell other men of the same beliefs to fly planes into buildings and kill people! Such horror! Such unspeakable, disgusting, despicable horror! What kind of being would premeditate it in his heart to hurt others? It just doesn’t make sense!”

She broke down crying, and I could tell that she wept for my entire world. She saw my race as cruel and ugly, bent on selfish murder and horrific evil. My own lip quivered, and I bent down and softly put my head on her shoulder. She turned and looked at me with hurt and disbelief painting her canvas. I sniffed a bit and fought back my own tears, because I realized that she had been reading a somewhat distorted picture of us.

“Yes…” I said, as I tried my best to comfort her, “…it doesn’t make sense. I could take you through the annals of our history, Princess, and tell you all about names that hurt and murdered others to get what they wanted. From the Pharaohs of old Egypt up to names like Che Guevara, Fidel Castro, Pol Pot, the current leaders of North Korea, and many, many others. There have been lots of human beings throughout history who have committed horrible crimes.” Here I stopped, and gave her a small smile. “But there have also been those who have fought back against those criminals. May I show you an example?”

She sniffed and nodded and we broke apart. My heart felt strangely empty without the feel of her soft coat, and I realized just how much I enjoyed being with her. I had only known her for a short while, but everything I had seen was causing those tiny buds of romance to begin growing ever larger. I used my hoof to flip through the pages until I found a picture of one of my subjects. He was a kind looking man, with short hair and the faintest hint of a mustache. Twilight looked down and I could tell she was intrigued by him.

“This is one of the greatest humans of all time,” I said, “his name is Martin Luther King Jr. See, he’s African-American and, back in the day, they were treated terribly, especially in the Deep South, where I’m from. They would get chased by police dogs, sprayed with the same fire hoses that were supposed to protect them, and forced to live in demeaning conditions simply because they were black, and others were white.”

“That’s awful!” Twilight said in shock.

I nodded. “Indeed, it was. But this man, Martin Luther King, took a stand against that racism and prejudice, and helped lead my nation of America into a new age where black people were treated with equality and respect.”

“So…does this racism, as you call it, still exist?”

“Unfortunately, yes, and it transcends races. There are vindictive, hateful people in every race, Princess. There always will be. Hell, I’ve been called some racist things by some hateful black people. It’s wrong, no matter who does it. Look, evil exists in my world, as I’m fairly sure it does in yours, and it’s not going away. But I choose to look at people like Dr. King and model myself after them. He made a famous speech in 1963 where he said that he hoped that people wouldn’t be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. That’s what I try to do. I will never hate someone because they’re different from me.”

“So…there are people in your world, outside of Canterlot City, who do accept differences?”

“Of course, Princess!” I said happily, “there are lots of people who are friendly and wonderful. Don’t let the mistakes of the few dictate your perception of us as a whole.”

I smiled at her, and she seemed to relent on her distorted view. She sighed and looked at the ground before suddenly throwing her hooves around me in a hug. “Thank you,” she said, “I needed to hear this. I realize now that my views were short sighted and narrow minded. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Princess,” I said, “there’s no need for an apology. A lot of what you said was right. But there are always two sides to every story, and I felt like I needed to show you a side of mine that was positive. There are many more like Dr. King, who fight every day to try and make my world a better place.”

“Maybe someday…I can go back to the human world and meet some of these people,” Twilight said, “if they’re anything like Dr. King, I’m sure they’ll be wonderful.”