The Classicist

by Jubal

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery
Length: 1775

The past holds many secrets. When the bones of the previous generations turn to dust, their personal writings must paint the picture for others to visualize.

Memory fades with time - words do not. The fragility of truth calls into question the validity of books, tainted by outside perspectives and ideologies. But journals, diaries, and other personal accounts - those that were bereft of tampering - are the only sources of knowledge left that hold an ounce of truth, that hold the simultaneity relative to whatever had occurred to paint a clearer picture.

Harmony was not asleep for very long and in that time, everything had changed. She was going to find out why.

Brought to you by the wonderful mind of Nitro Indigo and lots of rumination!

Also, can I get a hooray! in the comments for Starscribe, my personal favorite author on this site whose stories help inspire my own. Hooray for Starscibe!

Proofread by The Red Parade

Published 2020-04-24 01:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2020-04-29 19:52:28 UTC

Entry 1 - The Library

Uhh, hi. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve erased this and started over. It’s a wonder there’s any room left to write on this page anymore, with all the smudge marks and the like (Erasers are the greatest invention ever!).

I’m at a bit of a loss of what to write about. It’s so much easier when Twilight tells me what to write. I know Rainbow keeps a journal - I found it under her bed when she asked me to pet-sit her tortoise, Tank. There was a lot of naughty stuff in it but it looked like she just wrote her thoughts out, so that’s what I’m going to do (sans the naughty bits).

So, I’ve had this idea floating around my head: a book! More specifically, writing one. Who is it going to be about? Me. Twilight says that you write best when you know what you’re writing about, and I figured I know myself better than most other subjects, so why not write about me! It sounds vain now that I think about it, but whatever, I guess.

It goes like this: I, Spike the Noble Knight of Canterlot, will train under the tutelage of Sir Lancelot to save the fair maiden Rarity of Ponyville from the evil clutches of the Dragon Lord Murolth. I couldn’t really think of a title for it but it sounds pretty cool right! At least Sweetie Belle thought so when I told her. Speaking of her, she’s been acting really strange lately - shy almost. But I’m getting off track.

Since I live with the bookiest bookworm I know, I figured I could get Twilight to help me write it, but she’s been gone. She received an ‘urgent’ message from Princess Celestia - something about a rock? Twilight didn’t tell me much before she left with the rest of the gang. Maybe I’ll surprise her with it when she comes back! Yeah… that sounds like a plan.

I thi—

The rest of the page was missing, downsized to bits of mangled chad. Little could be determined from the remains - that being a pile of ashes. Hooves wrapped themselves over the fragile writings, carefully lifting it into a small burlap sack beside her.

A small stack of papers sat next to it, with various exaggerated, costume-clothed caricatures dancing to their written words across the lengths of the pages. They were still in the trial and error phase; still sketches, but precise and finely detailed regardless. The work of a practiced artist - comic books. Priceless.

They were also thrown in with the journal, filling the sack further.

Now down to the last item of interest: A skeletonized pair of claws that clung desperately to a large, fine-cut diamond. Upon further examination, they were found to be clutching it into a tiny ribcage. She had to pry hard on the brittle bone to loosen the stone enough to be extracted.

It too was deposited inside the sack with the journal and comic books. The container still remained pitfully empty despite that, the rough canvas folds crumpling down on themselves.

Nothing else caught her eye. Between the rotting, moss-ridden bookshelves and the cobweb-filled ceiling space, there was not much left to garner interest.

She levitated a small slip of paper out of her bag with a pencil to accompany it. After it unfolded, she quickly jotted down a few notes before returning them to her bag:

I didn’t find much in the Library, just a teen’s half-destroyed journal and some hand-drawn comic books. I’ll check the schoolhouse next. It’s the last place in this town I haven’t scavenged through, and if I don’t find what I’m looking for there, I’ll start making my way to that big city on the side of the mountain.

Note: There was a very expensive looking diamond as well but it doesn't have any value beyond what ponies have assigned to it (Possibly Trade?). At the moment, there are no ponies around to buy much of anything let alone a multi-k bit diamond. Maybe one of those dumb wooden wolves in the forest will choke on it if I throw it into its mouth. Knife-sharp diamonds make for deadly chew toys.

-Harmony

With that done, she extricated himself from the congregation of shelves she was sitting at and made her way out the way she had come in: a massive hole in the side of the building, or rather tree - a treehouse, she supposed.

The sunless daylight warmed her body, lighting the way for her to make her way to her next destination: The schoolhouse.

Author's Note

Depending on how this does, and how the next few weeks of my life unfold, I will continue this. Just want to get all my writing ideas out there lest I die or something.

Entry 2 - The Schoolhouse

Far out! This is kind of like that one dream I had a while back.

Me and Thunderlane were making our way through the Everfree, wailing on timberwolves and manticores left and right! We had these really cool metal sticks that would make things explode and we had some sick metal armor on - the type you see on the knights in those kiddie adventure books. I felt like a legit action hero!

I guess this isn't exactly the same thing. There's timberwolves and manticores, but I don’t have a metal stick. Also I'm completely alone...

Who’d thought somepony could have a dream this weird anyways? I mean, I woke up alone in the house and Thunderlane never leaves without telling me first. We’re bros like that. Anyways, I checked around to see if anypony had seen him lately but get this. Nopony was around to ask. They were all just gone! I made my way over to school - Miss Cherilee seems to know a lot of things. She even visited late at night that one time! I figured she might know where he was.

Nopony was home so I stayed for a bit hoping she would come. When I looked outside, there were a bunch of timberwolves and manticores! I locked the doors so they couldn’t get in - even if they did, I would be able to handle them. I mean, I did in that other dream so why not this one?

But it's still just a dream, right? I mean, obviously! I don't even know why I'm writing this down, it's all in my head. All I need to do is jump off the side of the school, and I'll wake up right before I hit the ground.

Harmony peeked over the edge of the schoolhouse. She didn’t stay looking for long. Her chest clenched painfully and she felt an emotion she hadn’t felt in a long time bubble within her: Sadness.

She shook her head, walking back over to the ladder that led down into the school building. The musty, dark room met her, the darkness enveloping her fully until her horn brightened, countering the inky blackness with a light spell.

She maneuvered around the many splintered, overturned desks littered along her path to the door. Again, nothing of interest but this time, she was left completely empty handed. The library had at least yielded up several names of importance: Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia, etc… Several books on the old empire she had skimmed through back home had mentioned these names as well. This simple account possibly confirmed the truth of such writings. But what she found here… it meant nothing. It brought her no closer to an understanding than she was before.

Her hoof glided into the sack wrapped around her midsection, pulling out a ration bar, a slip of paper, and a pencil. Her hunger-driven hooves made short work of the wrapper, leaving it to flutter down to the floor. She took her first bite and looked at the paper, the pencil floating up into writing position.

Looks like I’m off to the mountain! - I didn’t find anything useful at the schoolhouse. It’s getting dark so I’ll probably find some place to stay for the night before I head out…

It gets a little lonely out here in the sticks - nopony to talk to, nopony to watch my back on the road. On the brightside, at least I don’t have to worry about some highwaymare robbing me of my meager possessions.

-Harmony

She finished the bar and magicked all of her tools back into her bag.

Time to find someplace to sleep.

Entry 3 - Sleep

I wish everypony would just shut their mouths for a minute. I know the situation is bad, we all do, but could they possibly be bothered to keep their hyperventilating to themselves? Losing our shit isn’t going to do anything productive… Who the buck am I kidding? I’m probably as panicked as they are. By Celestia’s fat flanks, I probably look like death warmed over!

Cheerilee though, she’s got all this shit figured out. A bucking genius, she is. Apparently, that thing that hit the news a while back - the one about the rock? - Yeah, It got out or something. Didn’t know rocks could do anything like that but what the hell do I know? Cheerilee says we have to wait for Twilight, so that’s what we’re doing. I trust her - the others? I’m not so sure.

The ground is still shaking - There’s so much dust in the air, it’s a small wonder I haven’t choked to death yet. I can’t read minds but I can read faces and I think everypony in here is thinking the same thing I am: We’re going to die here, down under the rafters of the Apple family barn.

There was a few jumps, the writings covered by splotches of water.

Flitter found some cider, might as well knock a few back before I kick the bucket.

Celestia, I hope Rumble’s okay. I shouldn’t have left without telling him anything…

Harmony held an empty jug upside down in her hooves, letting a pile of dust trickle slowly to the floor.

Shame, she thought. They didn’t save any for me.

She flicked through the few crumpled sheets spread along the floor. They did leave me a place to sleep, though. Nighty Night.

She tucked herself into the age-old sleeping bag, sharing her silence with the skeletons and rats.

I think I’ll pick up a journal from that quill store before I leave - I’m finding myself writing a lot more. It’s not like there is anypony here to stop me.