The Mundane Life and Times of Erratum
A Late Hearth's Warming Day
Erratum awoke from another night of rest. Erratum’s rest had been filled with the typical dreams. Dreams that she had learned to overlook. It was not a day for sleeping in. It was Hearth’s Warming day. A day that was filled with the same routine social activities, each year.
As was customary, Erratum began her day in the washroom of her apartment. Cleaning the night’s accumulated grit from her light yellow coat and purple mane. After scrubbing off her cutie mark, a heart crossed by a feathered quill, and polishing her horn, she ate her routine breakfast of hay and oats. There would be time for the routine holiday treats during her routine holiday social rounds. She left her apartment, to fulfill these social rounds. Her apartment complex was located in the outskirts of Ponyville. It had been around since the founding of the city. Stinkin’ Rich himself had personally commissioned its construction.
There was not a snowflake on the ground, or hovering in the air. How odd, since it was customary to blanket the city in a shroud of snow, each Hearth’s Warming day. It was a reminder of the seasonal cycle, on a holiday that marked the shortest day of the year, at the opposite end of the year as the Celestial Solstice. Perhaps the snow had been cleared out of Ponyville’s outskirts, or it was being saved for the city proper. Undaunted, Erratum continued on her journey.
Upon entering the city, Erratum glanced at the main headquarters for Rarity’s Clothing Emporium, which was a tall skyscraper. Amidst the usual decor of ponnequins wearing the latest line of clothing, in the first floor display windows, there was not a Hearth’s Warming decoration to be seen. Not only that, but there was still no snow on the main paved thoroughfare leading to the Central Square. There was not even a pile of snow on the walkways that flanked the thoroughfare. This was quite the distressing break from custom.
With heart rate and breath quickening, Erratum hurried to the Central Square, passing the tall industrial buildings that customarily flanked each thoroughfare. There was no decorated tree, wreath, or bauble in sight.
As Erratum neared the Central Square, she noticed a faint green glow, in the distance. As she drew nearer, the green glow increased, in intensity. No, no, no, this was horribly wrong. This is not how a Hearth’s Warming day celebration ought to work. On the verge of panic, Erratum reached her first routine stop for the day, Sugar Cube corner. Located on the first floor of a towering skyscraper, the customary sweets ought to quiet her nerves.
Stepping into the shop, Erratum immediately greeted the proprietors, the fraternal twins Pumpkin Cake and Pound Cake. Instead of the usual friendly greeting, Erratum received looks of shock and concern. This did little to ease her growing panic. Hyperventilation and heart palpitations seemed inevitable.
“Erratum! Where have you been?” asked the unicorn Pumpkin Cake.
“What do you mean ‘where have I been’?” said Erratum. “What in Twilight’s name is going on? Where are the decorations, where is the snow, and why is the Central Square glowing? What is going on this Hearth’s Warming day?”
“Erratum,” said the pegasus Pound Cake, “you’ve been missing for a week. It’s New Year's day.”
“What? How is it New Year's? It was only Hearth’s Warming Eve yesterday!” said Erratum.
Erratum quickly began to descend into uncontrolled panic. Her heart palpitated. She hyperventilated. She nearly lost her balance.
“Whoa, hang in there!” said Pound Cake.
Pound Cake quickly flew upstairs. After a few seconds, he descended, with a bag of smelling salts.
“Here, this ought to help,” said Pound Cake.
He gently wafted the odor of the smelling salts to Erratum, with slow flaps of his wings. Erratum quickly grew calm. Her heart slowed, and her breathing eased.
“Thank you,” said Erratum, “but is it really New Year's day?”
“It is,” said Pumpkin Cake.
“But how?”
“I… I’m not sure. Maybe you ought to consult Princess Twilight? This seems like a break in Harmony.”
“Yes… perhaps I should. I-I think I’ll clear my head, first, by heading to the Central Square.”
“We’re about to close down, for the annual speech,” said Pound Cake. “We’ll come with you.”
After offering the Cakes her personal thanks, as a sign of gratitude, Erratum left the shop with the twins. They went straight to the Central Square. The green glow, which was customary for New Year's day grew in intensity, as they drew closer. After an hour of walking, they arrived at their destination.
At the northernmost end of the Central Square lay the source of the green glow, the Imperial Palace of Friendship and Harmony, which resembled a large emerald tree. On a dais, in front of the Palace, stood the Empress herself, Twilight Sparkle.
Twice the height of the average pony, with an eternally flowing mane, the immortal alicorn Empress of Friendship and Harmony delivered the annual New Year's speech.
“My little ponies. We have gathered here today to commemorate our dedication to Harmony, through Friendship. It is only through our eternal efforts to cooperate, and avoid strife, that we maintain the fabric of our world. It is only through these efforts that we keep Chaos and Discord at bay. Despite our efforts to maintain Harmony, there will always be loose stitches in the fabric of our Friendship. While it pains me tighten these stitches, the Harmony of Harmonia carries far more importance than the comfort of any single pony. I will now allow my inquisition to step forward, to tighten the stitches of Disharmony.”
As the Empress stepped down, her main inquisitor, a bipedal adolescent dragon named Spike, took her place on the dais.
“My little ponies,” said Spike, “in all of my Year's as chief inquisitor, I have not seen a better year for Harmony and Friendship than our previous year. That being said, there will always be the sowers of Disharmony. Those that would argue instead of cooperate. Those that seek their own private ends instead of the public good. I dislike the duty of correcting such Disharmony, but the public good demands such sacrifice.”
As Spike spoke, the tension visibly grew in the audience, as each audience member stood a little straighter, and a little more still.
“For the crime of argument,” said Spike, “I call on you, Diamond Tiara.”
The magenta earth pony stepped forward to the dais, trembling, as the audience parted for her.
“You are the sole source of Disharmony from our previous year,” continued Spike. “Do you have any words, to share?”
On the verge of wetting herself, Diamond Tiara slowly shook her head.
“I sentence to our Harmony camps, where you will remain until you have been deemed Harmonious,” said Spike. “Is that clear?”
Diamond Tiara slowly nodded her head. Robbed ponies, whose faces were obscured by their cowls, escorted the trembling mare away from the crowd, to the Imperial Palace.
“With each culling of Disharmony our Harmony grows ever stronger,” said Spike. “Soon, Chaos will bow to our Harmony, and Discord will cower before our Friendship. Let our message of hope remain in your hearts all year long, and may you all go about your day.”
As Spike left the dais, the glow of the Imperial Palace reached its most intense luminosity. A beam of green energy shoots straight to the sky, bathing it in green light. As the light spreads, the Palace’s glow dims, until it bears the resemblance of ordinary emerald.
"For the crime of heresy,” said Spike, “I call on you, Erratum.”
Erratum’s wings drooped, as she stepped towards the dais, with the audience parting for her.
"You are the central source of Disharmony for the entirety of our community,” continued Spike. “Do you have any words, to share?”
"Yes, I do,” said Erratum. “Your world is less stable than you preach, and your Harmony cannot act against Chaos. Soon, you will all fail.”
"Heretic,” said Spike, “agent of Discord and scion of Chaos, I shall harvest you for your magic, for you are a lost cause. You are a timber wolf disguised as a sheep among our flock.”
"While I may be a timber wolf,” said Erratum, “I know the Truth of your world.”
"You know nothing, heretic,” said Spike.
Erratum was forcibly escorted to the Imperial Palace by a pair of robbed ponies, whose faces were obscured by their cowls. Instead of being taken to the audience chamber, for later transportation, she was taken to the bottom levels of the Palace. She was being taken to the Heart of Harmony and Friendship.
Blinded by the emerald light, Erratum’s escort bound her to a chamber wall. Her escort left her there, chained, in the same chamber as the Heart. As her vision cleared, she saw…
...Pound Cake patting her cheek with a wing tip.
“Erratum!” sound Pound Cake. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” said Erratum. “I was just… mesmerized by the release of Harmony from the Palace.”
Pound Cake gave her an uncertain look, then he nodded.
“I’m feeling stable, right now,” said Erratum. “I think that I should consult the Empress tomorrow, while I’m working at the palace.”
“Well, all right,” sound Pound Cake. “If you’re feeling well enough to put off the meeting. What do you think, Pumpkin Cake?”
“I think that we should trust her judgment,” said Pumpkin Cake. “She’s had more experience with her personal quirks than either of us. If she thinks that she can handle herself, then she can handle herself.”
Erratum offered her farewell, to the Cake twins. With nothing else to do for the day, since New Year's day was not customarily filled with social routines, Erratum went home. After a day of routine light reading and routine gardening, she settled into her bed, for the evening.
Erratum awoke from another routine day of rest, after New Year's day. As was customary, Erratum began her day in the washroom of her apartment. Cleaning the night’s accumulated grit from her light yellow coat and purple mane. After scrubbing off her cutie mark, a heart pierced by a feathered quill, she rubbed down her smooth forehead, and scrubbed off her smooth back. Rather easy tasks, without a horn or wings to cover them. After finishing, she ate her routine breakfast of hay and oats
It was the first day of work, for the new year. Erratum prepared herself by...
...awaking from sleep. She had not had a full night’s rest, but she was not able to return to sleep. Not after that dream. Not with her heart racing. To calm her nerves, Erratum went about her daily morning rituals, before heading off to the Palace.
The walk down the main thoroughfare to the Central Square was, as per usual, uneventful. Tall buildings loomed overhead, and automatic carriages moved to and fro, along the paved center of the thoroughfare. Everything was routine, and customary. Never had Erratum felt more relieved, to witness such stability. Such Harmony.
Upon reaching the Palace, she climbed the central stairway, which was located in an unassuming corner of a standard foyer. She eventually reached her office, located at the end of a sterile hallway. Her office, filled with the routine desk and chair, was loaded with documents that needed her discerning eye. She was in for a day of correcting errata.
At the top of the pile of documents lay a note.
“Hey, how have you been? We haven’t seen you for a week! It’s not like you to miss the celebrations. Come talk to me, at lunch.
Signed,
Twist, best bud of Princess Erroria.”
Erratum frowned at her nickname. While she may have been the top proofreading scribe of the Palace, she certainly was not a princess, and while she may correct various grammatical or factual errors, she did not embody them. She was not a royal embodiment of errors.
Shrugging to herself, Erratum set about her routine work load. She would have time to consult the Empress after she was finished.
Author's Note
All right. First chapter to first published story on Fimfiction is done.
Honestly, I'm not sure if I'll continue the story, although I do have the biggest plot details worked out. In my personal opinion, my writing style seems a bit robotic. A bit like a golden age science fiction author, whose main focus is on exploring new technology and the future. I've spent far more time writing in message boards, comments sections, and college courses than I have writing narrative, fictional stories. Getting into fiction has been a plan on the backburner for the past decade or so.
At the very least, this was a first step. Hopefully, there will be a few more.
