"L'enfance est plus sympathique, L'enfance apporte le magique"
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"L'enfance est plus sympathique, L'enfance apporte le magique"
Les pierres, les arbres, les murs racontent
Les pierres, les arbres, les murs racontent
(La maison, la maison d'autrefois, la maison la maison d'avenir)
After all this time, once again, the silver star had plummeted from the skies above, unleashing calamity and chaos. And now it was she that was destined to seek out the cancer that plagued the land and to end it. Her lady had bid so in the name of the Goddess, and so it was her wyrd.
Around her, the giant redwoods felt like massive walls, their ancient bark girding the path forward and all the dangers ahead. Her fight ahead was long, but she was the only chance that her village, her kingdom – and possibly the world – stood against the ancient evil that hindered them now. She, a slip of a girl from a distant forest village within the kingdom, and out of all the candidates within the realm, had been chosen by the elders, and it was she that would either go and slay the darkness that had come.
She rubbed underneath the chin of her loyal dragon, Frye. She had raised him from a whelp, and for that, she had been called strange, odd, once in a while even a changeling, the result of some evil spirit swapping the true girl for a child not quite of this world. A deal, so many in her village said, a pact between her sagely father and the elfin queen or a wild spirit. Things didn’t improve for her when her father passed away when she was of seven years and she went to live with her mentors, ancient sages and chirurgeons who were old friends of her father.
Nevertheless, she had grown up to be beautiful and powerful and even her mentors, the wise sages in all things, said that she was a child unlike anything they had seen before, but this time they had meant it in a positive light. The very queen herself, Queen Twilight, had agreed, seeing the power within her and had chosen her to represent them in the grand conflict against the very calamity that befell them.
So now, as she stepped clear of the temple and began her trek towards the craggy mountains in the distance, she knew her way would be long and hard. She’d already sent her familiars, the flame raven and wily salamander ahead of her, and of course, she kept the will o’ the wisp in ready, should things become truly perilous. But she trusted Frye, and though he wasn’t big or strong enough for her to use as a steed, he would follow and protect her and she knew he would do so with every fiber of his being.
She’d made it no farther than a stone’s throw from the village when the dangers came: bats, creatures of the night who usually shied from people, but with possessed fury from the ancient evil, threatening to bite and gnash her to pieces. Mushrooms unlike anything she’d ever seen before, spitting poisonous projectiles at her; the very ground hissed and smoked where their seeds landed. And monstrous insects, normally harmless bees and moths, which had been turned into planchette-sized beasts, their unnatural eyes radiating the hatred of the darkness.
And with that, she called forth the lightning to protect her. She had a knife at her side for defense, but before anything, she was a master of the elements, of fire and water, of wind and earth, but she excelled most at fulminothurgy. And thus, this was what she used, blasting away great gouts of plasma from her fingertips, burning away her foes as her world sang blue-silver. All the while, faithful Frye joined in the protection of his mistress, blasting great fireballs at the enemies that rushed at them and dared to attack them.
Finally, as the sun began to set in the distance and she was miles away from her village, she reached the end of the protective forest and her first goal: a former temple of her Goddess, now infested by the insane followers of Rector Hons, those who would curry favor with the ancient beast as if it were a divinity to be worshipped. The very thought made her sick to her bones, and all the more certain she had to stop them. If she could clean out the temple, the paladins could be called back to reclaim it and make the place whole once more. Moreover, she could provision herself for the next step of her journey, which would take her through the rocky canyon beyond the temple and towards lands that she only knew from her father’s stories.
She raised her hand and called her raven, Thunder. The amber-hued raven came to her and gave a friendly caw. She instructed him to find the lord knight captain of the paladins; Lord Knight Shining would come with haste and take the temple back. He nodded as if in understanding and then took to wing, towards the garrison beyond her own village. Lord Shining’s adjutant, Dame Fluttershy, was a chirurgeon and wisewoman in her own right and would be able to translate Thunder’s words to the master knight and they would make haste.
Now, she had to make haste of her own.
A sharp pain filled her body as she sat down and summoned the will o’ the wisp to magically transfer her wounds to; the creature would be weakened as a result, but it would heal her of all cares and injuries instantly. It was the main ability of the creature; it was no combatant, but instead a custodial spirit, meant to help home and hearth. Her mentor Cup had taught her how to use its ability to mend sores to transfer life spirit so that she would be hale in a quick, as healing potions would likely be few and far between in this journey.
But now, she looked on at sadness at the desecrated temple and to see the body of the statue of the Goddess and what Rector Hons’ madmen had done to it. The ruined marble statue stood around strange metal and other things she couldn’t comprehend, all of which were carved with arcane symbols and filled with powers she had no knowledge of. Across the way, smeared in things that made her sick to her stomach, was the head of the statue of the Goddess. Even despite its defilement, the face radiated love and kindness and it brought a small smile to her face. She, like the adults had told her, was loved by the Goddess. The Goddess loved all, and that was why she protected the world.
That was why she had been chosen by the Goddess to protect the world from Rector Hons. She had her mission and the duty passed down from Queen Twilight herself, to save the Goddess’ precious world and all around it.
“You don’t have anything.”
She blinked and looked at the beautiful and pristine figure before her and stared in wonder. It was her…and yet, somehow not her. The figure stood there, arms crossed and looked at her as an adult would glare at a recalcitrant child. Her outfit seemed to be made of bright, cheerful colors and despite it all, she wasn’t covered in a bit of soot, grime or dirt.
Had the Goddess sent a divine messenger to her?
“Yeah, I gotta be dreaming,” the stranger said. “You look like me, and…well, you look like something out of a Goddamn anime. I don’t even like watching that shit; that’s my sister’s bag.” The stranger sighed and said, “So, if you’re like me, what’s your name?”
The mage stood up and looked at her doppelganger. “Pinkie of Ponyvale,” she replied, unable to look at her bright mirror image. “Have you been sent by the Goddess?”
The other Pinkie looked at her, then laughed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…yeah, this is something out of that Lord of the Rings shit, for sure. Look, I don’t know what the fuck is going on right now, other than that I’m probably having a weird-ass dream after one too many drinks and joints at my boyfriend’s house.”
Pinkie looked at her. “I don’t understand.”
The other Pinkie threw up her hands. “Look, Bimbo Baggins, you’re me, and I’m you.”
“You’re me? Pinkie, daughter of Igneous?”
The other Pinkie facepalmed. “Oh my fucking God, what the hell is this shit? Look, explaining in English – and I’m surprised you can speak it – I’m Diane Pie, Varsity Cheerleader and Senior at Centralia High School. But all my friends call me Pinkie.”
Pinkie looked at her doppelganger. “Wait – your name’s not Pinkie? I mean, your hair!”
The other Pinkie looked around. “Yeah, I gotta be in the Twilight Zone.” Turning back to Pinkie, she said, “First, what kind of name is Pinkie? And as for my hair….” She shook her head. “Should’ve never took that bet; I’ll be glad when the dye fades and my normal hair color comes back.” The cheerleader rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, sure, when I was a kid I wanted pink hair, which is how I got my nickname, but now that I actually have this cotton candy hell on my head? Ugh. How do you deal with it?”
Pinkie didn’t understand a single thing the other Pinkie was saying, but she had a feeling this was a test of some kind. A trial of faith from the Goddess? A temptation to stray from the correct path, courtesy of a dark spell from Rector Hons? What was it?
Meanwhile, the other Pinkie just shook her head. “Wonder why my mind would pick this shithole for a dream,” she said to herself. “Usually I’d think about the mall or something.” Other Pinkie pulled a parchment-like strip from a small pocket in her skirt and handed it to her. “Here, looks like you need a bandaid for the cut on your face. So Pinkie’s your first name?”
“Yes,” Pinkie responded, trying to force the wary tone from her voice.
“So friggin’ weird. And Ponyvale? What kind of weird shit is that for a town name? Some Dungeons & Dragons crap?”
Pinkie was confused again. “I am but a commoner, so I don’t live in the capitol of Canterlot.”
“Canter…lot. Not Camelot? Hoo boy, okay, that’s the last time I let my boyfriend buy doobies from Doug. Must’ve gotten the weird Mexican shit or something.” Seeing the look of puzzlement on Pinkie’s face, other Pinkie added, “Look, it’s too complex for your Middle Ages Gone Wrong mind to comprehend, so just ignore that.”
At that tone, Pinkie knew a trap when she heard it; this fake Pinkie, or whatever her name was, likely was a follower of Rector Hons, with a spell on her to try to dissuade Pinkie from the correct path. Pinkie began to form a quick dissipation spell in her head to cast on the offender before her, when some music burst out of nowhere, catching her by surprise. Bizarrely, the other Pinkie pulled a small black mirror from her pocket and began to speak into it.
“Josh! Hey, honey, yeah, I’m fine…I think. Just…this is probably all a dream and when I wake up, we’re still going to be at your parents’ place, ‘cause they’re out for the weekend and….” She paused, then looked down at herself. “We, uh, did use protection, right?”
Sitting where she was, Pinkie winced. She wasn’t sure why. A buzzing sound that sounded vaguely like words came from the black mirror, and Pinkie was now surer than anything that this was a spell from Rector Hons. She immediately prepared both a dissipation spell and sent a mental command for will o’ the wisp to go find Frye who was currently sleeping by the hearth.
Meanwhile, unaware of her situation, other Pinkie continued to speak into her iPhone: “Oh, yeah, definitely. Hell, my parents won’t notice anyway. Trust me, given that I’m the youngest of four girls, my parents would probably let me run feral if it was legal.” She giggled.
Pinkie forced herself to her feet, readying to launch her spell. If she moved fast enough, she could throw a quick lightning spell afterwards to disable the fiend and possibly get some information out of her…if, in fact the varlet was female.
Seeing Pinkie wanted her attention, the cheerleader did a just one moment gesture. “Look, Josh, we can do it all you want again when I wake up, but if I get preggers because of this, your ass and mine are in deep shit, okay?” She then looked at Pinkie and added, “Look, I’ll be right back, okay? Personal business.” Not waiting for an answer, the other Pinkie wandered off.
Pinkie immediately attacked—
—but found nothing on the other side. No sign of this other “Pinkie”, and nothing save for where her magic blast had scorched the earth.
Not thinking much more about it, she soon moved on. She had a duty to fulfil and no time to ponder on strange things.
Waving one last time to the couple for their kindness, Pinkie departed the canyon, seeing the large expanse fold away from her. The canyon was also used as a mine, to quarry rocks and stone from its depths. It was said that the stones of the temples of the Goddess came from here, as did that of Canterlot palace. Reputedly Queen Twilight had declared the quarry to be royally protected and Heirophant Octavia had blessed the place in the name of the Goddess, so unlike other mines and quarries, those that worked here were treated and paid well, for they were doing the work of the Goddess.
After her clearing out the temple nearly a week ago and then an additional battle against Rector Hons’ forces, she had rescued the residents of the mining town, including both the local paladin, Dame Adagio, as well as the town burgomaster, Sir Macintosh, and his wife, Lady Sweetcream. At Sir Macintosh’s request, she’d stayed at their place and recuperated from her fight, resting and restoring her bond to her pets and doing some reading from the small bethel run by the local priest, Curate Applejack – apparently Sir Macintosh and his relatives were well-set in the town’s high positions, though they did not abuse their power.
It was there that she’d read more about Rector Hons. Once a trusted stalwart of the previous heirophant, the rector been swayed by the powers of a dark force and had turned from a holy-minded minister into a rebellious, treacherous knave. Worse, as an insult to the Goddess herself, the turncoat had kept her title and now used it to mock the very church itself!
~All things will make sense in due time~
Pinkie froze at that. The words in her mind: a message from her Goddess? A small message of thanks for doing her service? Pinkie smiled at that, savoring the words. She was truly beloved of the Goddess if such words could be spoken to her mind. But at the same time, the words saddened her. How could someone like Rector Hons turn away from the love of the Goddess and turn face towards the evil that now threatened all the world? How could anyone turn away from that?
Pinkie then recalled the apparition she’d met in the temple. She’d realized since then that it was a temptation: that Pinkie, as strange as she was, was vapid, flighty and vain. Moreover, she claimed to not be from this world, which obviously made her nothing but a figment of the mind, but if she was telling the truth, what kind of broken, misbegotten world would create a Pinkie like that?
It had been a peaceful time, but all times like that ended eventually. And so Pinkie departed, headed on her journey through the dank, cursed swamps that separated this part of the kingdom from the Forbidden Lands – the mountainous territory so blighted and ruined that no kingdom bothered to lay claim to it. It would be the perfect place for Rector Hons and her forces to challenge the world – and it would be the place where Pinkie would storm and defeat the ruinous enemy.
Several days passed and, stinking of sweat and other things, Pinkie began to make her way out of the blasted swamp. It had been only through the benevolence of, bizarrely enough, the fairies of the wetlands, that she made it through. The beautiful shining pixies, named Rarity and Trixie, had stated that this fetid swamp had once been a beautiful wetland in which all the fairies gamboled and made their home. But most of them had run away from the Swamp Beast, a monstrous, mutated frog, except for a small group, who had been determined to fight the darkness and restore their home. Through their courage, Pinkie had faced off against the transformed creature itself: a twisted, malevolent amphibian who not only shot fireballs at her, but even flung its equally benighted offspring at her from pustules on its back. However, she burned the creature away with her lightning and through it, the steam and fog began to clear away from the marshlands.
It would likely take years to restore the wetlands to its original beauty, Rarity mourned, but thanks to Pinkie, she vowed that the fairies would aid her in her contest against Rector Hons. Enlisting the aid of the fairies Sonata and Rainbow to her side, the party made its way out of the swamps and towards the sandy shores that led to an inhospitable desert that separated the Forbidden Lands from the swamp and the rest of the kingdom. The fairies informed Pinkie that the desert was far too perilous to cross, and so she would have to wait for a ferrywhale to give her passage. The massive flying cetaceans were native to this part of the world and were friendly to humans, so if she waited on a large enough rock, one would come by and offer its services, they were sure.
The sun began to sink as Pinkie and company made their way towards the tallest hill in the area. The fairies, tired from their adventure, slept in her backpack while she sent Thunder off to send a message to Dame Adagio, who would in turn inform Lord Shining. At her side, Fyre hovered, while in front of them, Boomerang, her brave salamander, slithered, zapping any enemy he came across.
As they reached the hill just at nightfall, she then realized it wasn’t just a hill, but a domicile. A warm window threw white-colored shapes onto the darkened ground ahead of them, a sign of light. The ground around them was scented with the smell of herbs and plants, the sign of a garden. And as they stepped within feet of the hill, a door opened, and a figure stood, silhouetted by bright light.
“And there you are,” a vaguely familiar voice said. It sounded older and wiser, but unmistakable, nonetheless. “I was worried that I would have to freeze the leftovers. I’m sure you’re hungry. Come in and eat while the food is hot!”
As she approached the door, Pinkie saw a woman in her sixties looking at her. Based on the occasional pink strand of hair in the gray, poofy mass and the bright blue eyes embedded in a wrinkly face, there could be no mistaking who this woman was…or what she represented.
Another challenge, or a blessing from the Goddess? Pinkie wondered. The last was a test. What did this portend?
“Are you…?” Pinkie asked, putting her guard up.
“Just a tired old woman,” the older Pinkie stated. “My children and stepchildren are all grown up and my grandchildren are getting so big now, but I don’t see them as often as I like. And with my husband so recently passed, bless his heart, well…sometimes a Pinkamena can get lonely, if you understand what I mean.” She gestured to a chair by the table. “Please, eat. I’ll bet you’re a starving one!”
Pinkie looked around. The place looked odd, but no less homey. The other Pinkie stated that she was from another world; was this Pinkie as well? Pinkie, however, didn’t ask, as she had been taught manners by both her father and her mentors, and so she ate in silence. The meal itself was heavenly: rosemary-scented bread, clotted with butter; slabs of a delicious white meat that she could not identify but was no less pleasant; a white unidentifiable starchy mass that also had butter in it and various herbs; and lastly a tart, tangy drink that vaguely reminded Pinkie of wine but probably wasn’t that – wine was a drink only consumed when a man courted a woman and obviously that wasn’t the case here.
As the meal wound down, Older Pinkie asked, “Tell me about yourself, dear. You seem so young, and with your build and the shortsword at your side, you are clearly a warrior. Definitely unlike myself.”
Pinkie detailed her life and adventures up to this point and the fight against Rector Hons and the forces of darkness. Older Pinkie nodded and gave a smile, listening intently. If this version of her was no temptress, she instead was a wise soul, listening to Pinkie tell her tale and getting her cares off her chest, so to speak.
“And you say that you encountered another version of yourself? Of me?” Older Pinkie asked. “Of us?”
Pinkie nodded. The Pinkie that called herself Diane was probably not a trick or a fakery, but instead another version of herself brought forth by Rector Hons’ black magic in order to dissuade Pinkie from the right path.
“Then, dear, if I may, remember a maxim from my world, and may it guide you,” Older Pinkie replied. “‘This above all, to your own self be true.’ I wasn’t true to myself at one time, and it cost me dearly. Of course, everything worked out in the end, but…it’s one of the regrets of my life. I would explain, but…seeing as how your life is so different, perhaps you won’t understand.”
“Please,” Pinkie asked her older self. “I must know, if only so I can prepare myself for what comes ahead.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Older Pinkie replied in a sad tone. “When I was in my college years, I met a young man. A comedian – wanted to be a star. His name was Cheese Sandwich, and while he eventually got his wish, at the time, he was like every other up-and-coming stand-up comic: always working the comedy circuit, hoping for that big break and afraid that he wasn’t going to get it. We fell in love and got married; eventually I graduated college and got a job at the Corner, the finest restaurant in all of Canterlot. The owners said that I was leagues above and beyond even their master chefs and someday I would probably start my own restaurant and become a culinary star in my own right.” She sighed. “Things went well for a while…until they went to hell.
“Cheese got his big break in Hollywood and started to commute between Canterlot and LA. He told me that as soon as he got the chance, he was going to open a big restaurant for me in LA, so we could live together. But it wasn’t long before the gossip papers started talking about him and Sweetie Belle being an item – they were in a movie together, so I guess one thing led to another and…. Well, let’s just say that one of the most mixed days of my life was when I found out I was pregnant with Cheese’s child. It was the same day I got the divorce papers in the mail.
“I was devastated. And when my son was born, one of my bosses, Carrot, was practically a surrogate father to Cheesy. I should have realized what was going to come next, but I was a broken twenty-five-year-old divorcée and a single mother. My son’s father didn’t even want anything to do with his son and to this day, Cheesy has never met him. But this isn’t about him, it’s about me, and what I did next.
“Carrot, despite being a couple of decades older than me, was caring and kind and so gentle with my son and I. And….” Older Pinkie was silent for the longest time before continuing. “It didn’t take long for Cup to find out about the affair, though I wish she would have found out differently than how she did. To this day I can’t imagine how I would have reacted if I found my husband in bed with the girl we hired and mentored. But it was out and soon so was I – needless to say, that firing was justified.
“I got a job at the restaurant across the street, by luck, Le Bon-Bon was hiring and I just happened to be available. The owner, Fancy Pants jumped at hiring me and paid me a lot more than the Cakes did; I wonder if that was because of the hell I caused the Cakes and as a result caused their restaurant to implode. After that, I’d seriously thought about moving back home, but it was Fancy’s sister Fleur that told me that Fancy had taken, well, a fancy to me and that he adored my son. And after his divorce to rock star Lyra Heartstrings, he wanted someone normal in his life, someone who could take care of his kids and…well, one thing led to another again and….” She looked at a picture across the wall and Pinkie’s eyes soon followed. A man and woman were surrounded by six kids, all of them happy as clams.
“Nowadays my son Cheesy runs the family business and each of our kids runs one of the restaurants. Fancy and Lyra’s kids Walnut and Soulstrings love me dearly and, truth be told, probably think of me more as their mom than their actual mother. It’s been a life, a bittersweet one, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“So, Pinkie, stay true to yourself. Sure, things will work out in the end, but it won’t be easier unless you stay true to yourself. I stayed true to myself in my marriage to Cheese; given that he’s just divorced his sixth wife and his career’s in the dumps, I’d hate to see how my life would be then. But I didn’t stay true to myself with Carrot and as a result, I ruined a marriage and one of the best restaurants in Canterlot. And I stayed true to myself with Fancy and…we had a perfect life until last year, God rest his soul.
She stood up. “Now, I know you’re tired and want some rest; Lord knows you’ve earned it. But you’ve got miles to go before you rest, and at least you can take a respite here, where you’ll be safe.”
Pinkie didn’t argue as she was led to a bedroom. And she was so tired, she didn’t even think of much as her head hit the pillow.
Standing on the foothills in the Forbidden Lands, Pinkie watched the massive funeral pyre burn before her. So many bodies that she’d had to bury, and by luck, it hadn’t been hers amongst the tragic and damned corpses both.
She’d left the Older Pinkie’s home yesterday and had climbed to the top of the hill; a few hours later, sure enough, a ferrywhale came to her aid. Clambering up the flipper, she’d told the ancient creature where she was going and it blinked its eye in acknowledgement. Soon after, they were airborne once more, headed over the desert at an astonishing height, so high that if she fell off, Pinkie was sure that she was likely to die of fright before she even hit the ground.
Perhaps in retrospect, that would have been better, as she soon found that she was in a trap. The ferrywhale itself had been taken over and possessed by the evil of Rector Hons, who had used her vile magics to enslave the whale and use it as an airship from which they could attack without impunity. The whale was, in truth, dead, and its spirit was still in its body, trapped; the blink had not been an acknowledgement of Pinkie’s wishes, but instead a plea to not board and to flee. But she didn’t, and instead she’d been captured by the Rector’s henchmen, who threatened to kill her familiars and fairy companions if she didn’t comply.
Unfortunately for the enemy, the ferrywhale had a trump card, which it played: a paladin that it had ferried just before it had attacked. The whale had used the rest of its lifeforce trying to protect and hide the paladin and the moment Dame Aria spotted Pinkie’s plight, she had gone on the attack. She freed Pinkie and together they fought to destroy Rector Hons’ army, freeing the whale and liberating its spirit from undead torment. But in doing so, Dame Aria had blocked several attacks meant for Pinkie and had thus taken fatal blows. Pinkie then used that anger within her to mete out justice to the cretins that took a brave soul’s life and made this poor ferrywhale suffer. Finally she then made her way to the brainstem of the creature, snuffing out the vile parasite that had enslaved it on Rector Hons’ orders, and the beast, now truly and mercifully gone, began to make its final glide towards the foothills of the Forbidden Lands.
Once alight on the earth, Pinkie and her party went and fetched kindling, and then soon after, the mage set the pyre ablaze. The two fairies with her cried at the senseless death and Pinkie consoled them as best as she could; she couldn’t afford to focus on her own sorrow at the moment, as she needed to be there for them. Furthermore, ultimately there was the battle ahead against Rector Hons and she had to gird herself for that. So with one final look back at the fallen souls, Pinkie moved forward, into the crumbling, desolate hills, where the only residents were the bale and tortured creatures that lived along the karsts and rubble.
Slowly but surely she made her way up the mountain, fighting the traps both natural and designed by her foes. From the creatures, full of fetid breath and gnashing teeth, to the occasional sentry stationed in the wasteland to try to stop anyone who dared assault Rector Hons’ domain, they all fell to her shortsword and her magic as she poured her rage and fury into everything spent against her enemies. Blood flowed and the air crackled as Pinkie blasted her all against the foe’s might, hurling herself to test them – and it was a test they sorely were failing.
Hours later, caked with grime, dirt, blood, ichor and dripping with sweat and tired to the bone, Pinkie clambered up to the top of the unholy mesa, ready to deal with the undead dragon that perched here. She’d received the info after interrogating one of the guards, who immediately tried to take her life after she’d granted him mercy. She hadn’t done that a second time and his broken, bloodied body was probably now feeding the carrion eaters at the bottom of the hills.
But no matter. Now, she had to focus on her quarry. She was exhausted and needed a rest, but there could be none, not while Rector Hons still breathed and while—
“Took ya fuckin’ long ‘nough.” Pinkie looked and standing over the rotting body of the now-dead-once-more undead dragon, was another Pinkie. But this one had a look that was tough as nails. She stood there, with a long black coat, mostly topless save for the cloth she had wrapped around her chest, and somewhat baggy pants the same color as her coat. She carried what appeared to be a wooden sword, but that wasn’t possible, because that would be tantamount to suicide when going up against a normal dragon, much less an undead one. Lastly, she wore a bandanna like Pinkie did, but unlike hers, a sacred talisman given to her by the followers of the Goddess to keep her safe, the other Pinkie’s was a raggedy, torn one that looked more like a badge of honor than any ornamentation or practical wear.
The other Pinkie chuckled and tapped her wooden sword on the dragon’s hide. “Fucker thought he’d try t’ take some shit outta me. But, heh, bastard didn’t know who he was fuckin’ with. Stomped his ass easily – you want t’ talk a real fight? Deal with some tough-ass punk like Applejack or Twilight Sparkle. Them’s some real fuckin’ muscle.”
“Um…” Pinkie began, feeling completely lost.
“Oh, yeah, where the fuck’s my manners? Granny Pie’d kick my ass if she found out I wasn’t being, y’know, all ladylike an’ shit.” She stood up and offered a hand. “You can just call me Pinky. Everyone does. No fuckin’ idea why, but they do. An’ I guess yer some sorta magical girl or something?”
Pinkie was confused by the other girl’s speech. “Magical…girl?”
“Yeah, maho shōjō, y’know? Like my friend Fluttershy. She pulls out a henshin wand, does some semi-naked spinny shit and then boom, turns into Magical Princess Dancing Butterfly. The name’s stupid admittedly, but I guess it’s some sort of magical girl rule. Ain’t going to catch me in one of those, I tell ya.”
“I’m confused.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. I was just on the way to school when I got zapped and then sent here. Not the first time, probably not the last. Anyway, I got attacked by that zombie dragon whateverthefuckitis, and I did what just came naturally.” Pinky punched a fist into her palm and a blue blast of ki radiated from it. “An’ that’s why I’m the sukeban of Canterlot High!” she cheered proudly.
Pinkie didn’t understand in the least, but she was able to glean that the stranger was tough, friendly and, somehow unsurprisingly another version of herself. It made her wonder how many there were out there and how similar any of them were to her. Given the ones she’d met before, with their strange ways of dressing, mannerisms and even language, it was a small wonder that she understood any of them. Still, the Goddess stated that there were countless ways of learning from countless people, and even one’s own self could teach a lesson heretofore unknown. So Pinkie kept her attention to the other version of her and moved on through the fray.
Still, it made her ponder: why was she encountering other versions of herself? She couldn’t ponder how the goddess would send such help. Granted, the ways of the divine were far more complex and not meant for mortals to ken easily, but even still….
She ducked under the blow of a fetid assailant, then lashed out on her own, discharging a bolt of lightning that shockfried the creature where it stood. To her side, the other Pinky continued to punch and kick with mad abandon, more like a moving wall than a human being. Given that this was the area where the fighting was heaviest, Pinkie was glad for the assistance of the strange comrade in arms, as the forces here might be too overwhelming for even her, moreso any of the other stalwart heroes that would have dared to brave this path.
Finally, as the last one fell to her magic, she collapsed on the ground, exhausted. She felt completely drained, practically having taken on what seemed to be all of Rector Hons’ unnatural army. She so very much wanted to rest and a sensible person would have told her to stop, that she’d done more than any person could. But the problem was, this was her doom, her burden to bear for the world. The Goddess had chosen her to light the way and to destroy the shadow that was Rector Hons and her evil ways. And if that was what had to be done, then that was what had to be done.
Seated beneath the soft shade of a poplar tree that grew here despite the bleak scrub otherwise, Pinkie and Pinky watched the sun set, resting. The bigger Pinky offered a meal for the two, made of some strange ball made of rice and a green liquid; both tasted otherworldly, but Pinkie was so famished she hadn’t time to savor the exotic quality of the repast. Finally, she collapsed back on the ground, feeling exhaustion and satiety envelope her.
The other Pinky got to her feet and brushed the rice grains off her jacket. “So, this is where we part ways, kiddo. But let’s get this straight: you got power and you should be able to put whatever it is into the dust with your strong right hand—”
“I’m sinister,” Pinkie murmured.
“Sinister? Oh – wow, pays to read manga, or else I wouldn’ta remembered that was old for left-handed,” Pinky said. She then pointed to the castle at the distance, shrouded in a nasty-looking fog. “There’s your big bad, cowering in there ‘cause he knows yer comin’. So get some rest and do your job, gotcha!” Winking and giving her a thumb’s up, Pinky grinned and jumped off the cliff, swallowed up by the fog.
As she opened her bedroll and summoned her familiars to rest up for the night, Pinkie knew the stranger would be okay.
It had been a blessed miracle – such an event could not be called anything less.
Upon her attempt to cross the half-hidden rock bridge separating the castle from the cliffside, Pinkie had slipped off and fallen. As she plummeted, she cursed her own luck and apologized to the Goddess for making a mistake that the world would suffer from – Rector Hons would be free to wreak her havoc on the lands and while good menfolk would step up to counter her, would they be strong enough to win?
But the Goddess wasn’t done with her yet. Instead, Pinkie plunged into a glowing pool glistening and glowing with so much magic power that it radiated a light of its own. Clearly, this was a land forgotten by time and the world, and somehow it still looked as pristine and beautiful as the day the Goddess’ gentle touched had breathed life into the land.
Wading up to the nearby shore, Pinkie was awestruck to see moondust lilies, holy flowers that only grew in the churches and temples of the Goddess. Any attempt to grow them anywhere else ended up with the blossoms wilting into nothingness in minutes. And yet here they grew naturally. It made no sense!
At least, not until she came across the marble plinth, inlaid with gold and silver and atop it was a carved effigy. It was the burial place of an ancient king, a magical king, so powerful and glorious that the very air was still filled with energy. Furthermore, given the moondust lilies and the beauty of this place, it was clear that the deceased regent had been blessed by the Goddess.
~As are all that she loves~
Solemnly approaching the resting place, she looked at the face of a beautiful woman in armor, in repose. In the effigy’s hands were a sword, glowing as with the very power of the sun itself. Wondering who this was, Pinkie immediately went to the base of the plinth, hoping for an answer, and she was not disappointed:
H E R E * L I E S
LUNA
QUEEN OF EVENTIDE
HERO OF THE LANDS
AND
BEARER OF THE HOLY SWORD CELESTIA
“May the beautiful queen forever protect the lands she loved so”
Pinkie’s jaw dropped. Queen Luna? She’d been told ancient tales by her mentors of the grand warrior hero queen and her endless wars against the demons, all to protect the world. Having started out as a common farm girl, she had been blessed by the Goddess and given the sword Celestia, the Mark of the Heavens, whose very power commanded the sun. Those who hefted it could only be called kingly.
Pinkie had thought the queen to be just a story, a comfort to young children afraid of monsters in the world, to show them there were heroes still. And yet, here was the ancient queen, timeless, sleeping and still in command of her blade Celestia.
Unbidden, Pinkie sank to her knees in fealty. The queen was long gone and the land she ruled was a memory, now broken up into different realms and ruled by different people, but that was of little consequence. The queen had been a hero for all, a knight in shining armor and had borne a sword into battle with the intent to protect each and every soul. That was true heroism, and even if Pinkie could herself be considered the same, this paladin of old came before her and deserved every sobriquet and honor the girl could give her.
It was then when Pinkie stepped on a loose marble stone, the plinth shook. Pinkie fell back with a start, afraid she’d dishonored the ancient queen so. But now, when she looked up, she saw the words had changed on the plinth:
WHEN HEROES ARE
NEEDED IN THE WORLD
MY BLADE IS
THINE.
SAVE THE WORLD I LOVE SO, HERO.
Pinkie looked at the effigy…who was no longer holding the sword. The sword glistened in its ivory scabbard, its gold handle calling out to her to pick up. Pinkie gingerly did so and unsheathed the sword, the silvery blade seeming to glisten with an aura of pink, foam green, soft blue and purple, as if reflecting the sun itself. The blade felt natural in her hands, though she’d never used a sword in her training, and she took a few practice swings with it, like she’d seen the guards in her village do. The motions felt completely right, as though the blade had been conferred upon her all of Queen Luna’s skills.
~The skills of a Swordbearer~
The earth groaned, and Pinkie turned her head to see stairs magically appear in a darkened part of the grotto. Magical lights illuminated a pathway headed up and towards the ancient castle above. It was clear: she was to take back Queen Luna’s old castle and to rescue the world from Rector Hons.
Thankful for the opportunity, she slipped on the scabbard, as naturally as if she’d done it a million times, then rendered a salute with a sword, before heading up the stairs. Today Rector Hons would fall and Pinkie’s adventure would come to an end. It was a long, odd journey, and yet, part of her felt as though the journey was far from over. Something inside her – she wasn’t sure why – said that all of this was just another episode in a life filled with them, and yet that made no sense, as this quest had been the first time she’d really ventured far beyond her village home.
Would she share Queen Luna’s fate – young village girl who became the beloved queen and eventually a legendary hero remembered forevermore?
Pinkie brushed aside the thoughts and continued up the stairs, eventually ending up in a hidden alcove in a fake crypt in the royal burial grounds. From here, she would begin her assault against Rector Hons.
As Celestia sliced through the air, drawing blood and ending the life of the last guard, Pinkie flicked the blade to sluice the dead guard’s lifeblood off the glistening steel; as expected, Celestia did so and the sword was clean once more. With that, she stood before the doors of Rector Hons, charging up her magic for the fight of her life. And she would win – she had to! She was the Blessed of the Goddess, given the sword Celestia by edict of Queen Luna and she and her familiars had fought through thick and thin to strike at the heart of the evil that was the rector.
Pinkie closed her eyes, exhaled and cast the spell that would shatter the door into a billion pieces.
~Found you!~
Pinkie found herself in a brilliantly white room, filled with stained glass windows and bright tapestries. A huge golden dais reached up, ending in a massive throne, and on that throne sat a titanic white alicorn with blood-red hair and kind blue eyes. “I must say, you humans are very different from ponies. On the thin line between one world and the next, and your mind is living that moment, in a different way.”
Pinkie looked at Faust with confusion. She knew who the alicorn was, having met her – although in human form – prior. And with that, the memories of the life she hadn’t lived melted away into the fantasy it was.
Faust chuckled gently. “Miss Pie, sometimes the fantastic seems clearer and more tangible than the reality that you were living. On the precipice of life or death, you chose life, even though your body wasn’t sure how. So instead your mind framed it as a battle of a different kind between life or death.”
Pinkie blushed. “I remember my uncle playing that game on that old Sega of his. I guess it made more of an impression on me than I thought.” She then pondered in thought for a second. “But what about those other Pinkies?”
Faust gave a gentle smile. “You should know about alternate realities, having been to one, Miss Pie.”
“So they were other Pinkies?” Pinkie remained confused at that. She knew there were other realities where she wasn’t related to her aunt and uncle; the one Sunset was from was one example. But if she recalled the older Pinkie’s words right…the thought made her sick.
“They are people with their own lives and their own decisions. Some, like the younger one who had Pinkie only as a nickname, was vain and flighty, but she shared some characteristics with you.”
“The cheerleading, I got that.”
“And the older one did as well.”
Pinkie mused on that for a second. “An old, bad relationship that shouldn’t have happened?” she ventured, and Faust nodded in agreement. “And if that’s the case, the third one is the exposure to magic and the fact that I know how to fight?” She thought about it further. “And while we’re at it…Rector Hons? That’s an anagram…for Corner Shot, isn’t it?”
“Got it in one. You are everything I could have ever wished for in my granddaughter’s Swordbearer and more.” Faust moved over by Pinkie and put a wing around her. “But now, you’re in the terminus. You have to make the final decision.”
“My decision was made already,” Pinkie said without hesitation. “I love Sunny, completely and totally. I am her Swordbearer, but I want to be more. And I don’t know if that’s possible, but I want to be there for her, no matter what.”
“Are you sure? Despite what is known out there, not everyone or everypony is truly qualified to be a Swordbearer. There are many who could have, and never picked up the blade when the call came.”
“And yet, I did. Even in the dream, I did.”
“Oh, that wasn’t a dream.” Pinkie was taken aback by that. “The young magical knight Pinkie of Ponyvale fought and destroyed Rector Hons and restored peace to the land, and in time, became a beloved and fair queen. And eventually, she became spoken of in the same breath as good Queen Luna.”
Faust fixed blue eyes on the human girl. “The future will be hard for you. It will be endless. And I know my daughter has tried to talk you out of it for your own sake, though I know she is glad beyond words that you will stay with Sunset. But now I feel I must ask you the same, because I don’t want you to suffer the same pain as my own Swordbearer.”
“And yet, the lady hast already madeth yond decision, mine own queen.” A new figure appeared, one with beauty to match Pinkie’s own. “And Rosegarden anon answ’rs h’r beckon, as thou hast seen.”
“Yes, my plan was fulfilled, and now all is in place.” Faust’s horn glowed, and a second later, her own sword appeared. “This is my sword and for my granddaughter’s protection, there is none better to heft it than her Swordbearer. Rosegarden answers to you now.”
The sword floated over to Pinkie, and as it did, three enameled balloons, a cloisonné of her in a sense, embedded itself onto the hilt. “This is Boop,” Pinkie said proudly. “This is my blade and I shall wield it for the woman I love.”
“Then go to her,” the others stated.
The first thing Pinkie saw when she opened her eyes were teary eyes of cyan. Eyes, she knew, held worry, but held something else, too.
For Pinkie, this moment would be the beginning.
Author's Note
