Magical Artifacts, the Purpose, and Equestria
Meadowbrook slumped across her desk with a sigh. Her muzzle cramped, and her eyes grew sore, but the pile of unsigned books still managed to reach the ceiling. She stared up with disgust, regretting how she had roped herself into her predicament.
“Dear Meadowbrook,
The discovery of your own hoof-crafted artifact, the Medallion of Goodness, have lead us here at the museum to believe you may contain untapped and valuable knowledge that could improve the lives of many of Equestrian citizens and their kind. We humbly request your assistance. Share your knowledge from your days, just as Rockhoof had. We will compensate greatly for your kind efforts, and would welcome you with open hooves. Please consider.
The Equestrian Museum of Silver Spoon.”
The letter, though crumbled and discolored, sat in her drawer-side, glaring up with that evil look.
Meadowbrook was tired. She continued to sign her name across the first page of each copy. “Meadowbrook. Meadowbrook. Meadowbrook.” It became a mindless routine, and the deeper into the trance she fell, the more she thought. She was tired.
It wasn’t until a knock on her door that she had realized the sun has reappeared in the sky. She groaned, brushed her mane, and replied. “Hello?”
Dreamstop crept in slowly, a cup of coffee in her magical grasp, which she was happy to share. “How has the signing been going?”
Meadowbrook sighed, happy to not have to hold a positive posture. “It hasn’t been good, I must say.”
Dreamstop dropped her ears and gave a sad expression. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Meadowbrook’s eyes traced down to Dreamstop’s cutiemark. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course!” Dreamstop exclaimed before shutting the office door, closing their world from wandering eyes and ears. “What is it?”
“Are you happy?” Meadowbrook asked.
“Am I happy? I suppose I am. After all, I got this new dress the other day and I’m so excited to wear it out tonight!” Dreamstop jumped in place, then giggled in thought. “Knowing our history however, I must assume that’s not at all what you were meaning.”
Meadowbrook slouched back. “You know me too well.” She smiled, but the bags under her eyes couldn’t seem to escape any expression. “Are you happy with your life? What you’re doing everyday, what you wake up for, and what your bits mean?” Her eyes traces her filing cabinets and empty walls. “Would your younger self be happy with where you are now? Is this what your cutiemark means?”
A mortar and pestle. They seemed to sparkle whenever Dreamstop would light up. “Well,” She began, “There are definitely times where I struggle to get out of bed. But being able to work under you is a reward by itself!”
“You’re much too kind my friend.” Meadowbrook smiled again and pulled one of her books up from the pile. “If this isn’t what you want to do, why do you persist and stay? You would be much happier if you were truly able to express yourself, don’t you believe?”
Dreamstop thought for a moment before taking a seat in front of Meadowbrook’s desk. “I…” she rubbed a hoof against her chin. “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the security of a job I know will keep my home here in Canterlot.” She slid Meadowbrook’s newly signed book into the growing pile. “If it’s okay to ask, where are you going with this?”
Meadowbrook watched out the window, a perfect view towards the rumored-to-be uninhabitable forest of the Everfree, still as messy as when the Tree of Harmony was planted. As dangerous as when she had discovered the tribe of zebras to worship the sprawling vines. Just as beautiful as the Beads of Happiness created from the vines buried under the Castle of the Two Sisters. She peered back to the dusty canvas books, and then to Dreamstop. “I appreciate the offer of the museum, but these books aren’t of my own creation.”
Dreamstop tilted her head. “What do you mean? You wrote them, didn’t you?”
“I did, but that is not to say it is my own doing. I’m not happy.” Meadowbrook grabbed her mask from under her desk and held it in her fatigued hooves. “The times have changed, and I’ve discovered I don’t belong, just as Rockhoof had felt. This world, though the same, is equally different from my own; my home. I don’t belong with the advancements of the future. My books are changed for the purposes of the museum and not my own desires. I want to be happy, and I believe the only way I’ll be able to is if I live, not in this world, but one of my own.”
Dreamstop quietly and patiently sat still, unable to think of what this speech could possibly mean.
“You are a bright unicorn, yet the museum holds you back from your true potential. I believe it must be a lot to ask of you, and the decision is only your own, but I want to reach my hoof out in offering.” Meadowbrook sat up, truly happy in thought. “Join me in nature. Leave the museum and come with me as we forward the acts of your times into a further future.”
Meadowbrook stood from her chair and began to pack her valuables. Dreamstop moves quickly, both to understand and take in the offer, and to clean the coffee she had just spilled. “You want me to leave everything I’ve ever known behind to follow you into an unknown world never discovered?”
Meadowbrook smiled, setting her mask lightly on the top of Dreamstop’s mane. “I’m asking you to follow your heart.”
Dreamstop pulled the mask down and stared, eye to eye. She watched herself by Meadowbrook’s side, archiving every species of plants, bugs, and animals who’ve evolved from hundreds of years away. She watched herself grow and take up the mantel, bringing her own cricket along and showing her assistant new discoveries, relentless to be found. If Meadowbrook’s mask could talk, it would echo a bright future.
Meadowbrook shut the door behind herself on the way out, leaving Dreamstop along with hundreds of unsigned copies of her book, and a view into the future of discovery.
Few ponies knew of Mage Meadowbrook’s whereabouts ever since the publication of her groundbreaking story, as if she had found the edge of the world. Years have gone by without contact, and even the rest of the Pillars were clueless as to what had happened.
The Museum of Silver Spoon flourished with new visitors due to the recent collection of the Clear Blue Lotus, a flower able to be grown from a mutation of poison oak, said to make the blind see, the deaf hear, and the numb to move. Of course, Dreamstop knew it did so, in moderation. In reality, it was a ploy for the museum owner to raise funds due to the failure of the next publication, Windigos and the Flame of Harmony.
It was Dreamstop’s last day, yet it felt more exciting than ever. Her position was to be replaced by a pony more able to stay focused and a stronger desire for profit. She had seen it coming, yet didn’t push against her letting off, and she left with saddlebags full of leaves, a certain carved mask, a smile, and eyes leading towards the forest.
The journey was just as dangerous as her mentor had described, yet Dreamstop was strong. The manticores were kind enough to point her in the right direction, the cockatrices intimidatingly protected her as if they’ve had a history, and even a certain hydra brought her across a tall and narrow gap.
Dreamstop’s journey was a month long adventure in a single direction, and she filled her books with every kind of leaf, hair, and unearthed fossil she was able to find. It was as if the forest was in expectancy of her help, and forgave as if she was its own child.
For Dreamstop, unlike the rest of Equestria, Meadowbrook’s meadow wasn’t difficult to find. In a clearing surrounded by creatures of unimaginable shapes and sizes, was a hut fit best for an Equestrian. Inside was the future of Equestria.
“Dear Miss Dreamstop,
You have been so kind to me. Some day, you will lead your kind into the future just as I had oh so long ago. I can see it now, despite the years apart we live in. Though I am not here anymore, and never will return, I leave happy knowing the plants, bugs, and creatures of the forest, with your hoof-touch, will lead your world into a revolution without hurt, but instead with goodness, happiness, and friendship. I leave you too my past, not of my own, but one we share together. Thank you for being my friend, and thank you for your passion. But most of all, I thank you for your love.
Mage Meadowbrook.”
Underneath Meadowbrook’s note was an unsigned copy of her book, the note of the museum as a bookmark, and her infamous dress. It somehow seemed to fit Dreamdrop perfectly.
Dreamdrop emerged from the empty hut. Though she was sad to know Meadowbrook may be gone, she was happy to live up to her potential, her mortar and pestle.
And Dreamdrop was happy, for she was truly ready.
