Through many a pristine forest did I travel through on my way from the Undiscovered West. I was very much thankful for the ponies and their strange philosophy when it came to homesteading. They seemed to possess the tools to civilize that primeal region, yet did not. It was a stark contrast to the humanity I once knew, and frankly, it was refreshing. Perhaps they didn’t yet require the elbow room. I figured this in it’s own little way was a blessing, that I did not appear in this world some few years later in the future. The Undiscovered West may not be so undiscovered the next time I visit.

There wasn’t much to speak on during this trek, besides the beauty that is present across all of Equestria. Not to imply that this consistency in any way lowered the value of the sights I saw; moreso that it made the true eyecatchers all the more memorable. This was the status quo in Equestria, and I would not expect anything less. However, it was plainly obvious to tell when one was heading in the direction of a more tamed Equestria. Weather teams become thicker in size and frequency, peacefully going about their jobs moving clouds every which way, trimming some down, fattening up others, all to fit together their own little piece in an unending daily puzzle. Frankly, it boggles my mind. It was like the pegasi -and all ponies at large- spoke some unknowable language, not to Equestria, but through Equestria, and this constant upkeep of their land and sky was akin to a teacher correcting mistakes in a student’s work. In this way, the ponies bent the natural order of their world to their will, and possessed deeper ownership of what was theirs than any humanity could ever claim.

Regardless, it seemed all roads in Equestria led not to the capital Canterlot, but instead to a little cottage town at the base of the city’s great mountain: Ponyville. You’d never expect it, with it’s small, cozy exterior, but it’s true all the same. I’d visited the place many times in my travels, yet never had much luck with finding good rumors within it’s fields. Useful rumors, I should say. The truth is, Ponyville was bounding with rumors and legends, but… but I could never make use of any of the damn things! The place must have been touched by fate, or built upon a great leyline of magic, for rarely will a day go by there without something strange happening. Alas, Ponyville was already home to a few heroes destined for greatness, and the stories there that I longed to be a part of, belonged to them. Whatever is in the air that attracts mystique and mystery to Ponyville only seems interested in those six mares. At least, they always got to them first…

…

A last call echoed from the kitchen of Ponyville’s curious gingerbread bakery. You’d think the place was a bar, what with how the patrons dallied till sundown, but you’d be wrong. It was very much a bakery, and a very good one at that. While their cakes water the mouth and alight the senses with their aromas, I preferred the heartier bread they advertised less so in their display cases. Such a disservice to them…

But it’s those you meet inside Sugarcube Corner that make the experience. With the ponies who come and go, usually just staying the night before departing to their true destination, you’ll always find new faces crowding the bakery’s many tables. That was the position I found myself in at the moment; sitting across from a cloaked unicorn mare, her eyes light and pale, expression odd. Sitting with strangers was very much normal for the Sugarcube Corner and Ponyville at large. Simply, there’s only so much room. Not that ponies mind the chance to make a new friend anyway.

“Hello.”

Apparently, the cupcake infront of her was more interesting than a greeting. It was untouched, as it had been since I’d arrived, some minutes earlier. It seemed an icebreaker was in order.

I studied her form, looking for an in. Her mane was kept short by most pony’s standards, almost like an unkempt bob. She had this dullness about her, fitting for her muted dark color scheme of black and grey. There was a distinct lack of much of anything in terms of emotion in her face. I knew this not to be stupidity, for she wore an obvious insignia of servitude to royalty, and this perplexed me all the more.

“Your Princess is Luna, I’d imagine?” my probe was out there now.

Her eyes did not so much as wander. “My service was to Princess Luna, but both are my Princesses.”

“Was?”

“Yes,” she shifted her head now, and I was met with muted displeasure. “Was. I’ve not been under her wing for three years now.”

“But you still wear the badge?” I broke her stare and briefly studied the silver that seemed to pin the purple robes to her chest.

“This is my Mark of Heavens. It was made for me at my birth, and does not signify rank somuchas proof,” as she touched a gentle hoof to the badge, I caught a longing in her cyan eyes.

“Proof of what? Are you royalty?”

“Proof that I was once hers.”

… She wasn’t giving me much, but though she seemed disinterested; she’d given no outright tells besides her shortness. Whether she wanted to or not however, I was bored and needed to run my mouth a bit after so much solitude in the wilderness.

“My name is Anon, nice to meet you.”

“Merope the Lesser. Nice to meet you as well.”

“Pretty name. Sounds familiar.”

I didn’t receive a reply. Rolling my glass of water about on the table in a tilt, I keep a sigh to myself. Hopefully she wasn’t feeling as awkward as I. I doubted it.

It wouldn’t be until Pinkie Pie came to the table to drop off my bread that I’d get the opportunity to speak again.

“Aaand here’s your bread, fresh and baked to perfect- omigosh! Anon!? You’re back in Ponyville!”

Here was a pony who enjoyed a good story. She was a favorite of mine. Somehow she’d always manage to track me down while I was in town, and sometimes while I wasn’t. Usually the first to sit down and listen to me boast, and always the last to leave once I was done. Oftentimes, when the night would quiet and the crowd I’d gathered up dispersed, she’d share some of her own stories with me.

“Can never stay away for long. Just returned from the Undiscovered West, though I’m not sure how long I’ll stay in town. Any new rumors you’ve heard of? Surely you’ve saved some for me, hm?”

Perhaps most enjoyable of all about Pinkie, was her endless knowledge of the world around her. She was so strange in that regard.

Pinkie followed my playful tone exactly, keeping me on my toes. “I dunno~, my friends and I might’ve gobbled them all up while you were gone.”

Ah, the dreaded confirmation I’ve come to expect.

It took me a few seconds to respond, “That’s just how it goes in Ponyville, it seems.”

Seemed Pinkie had caught that some of the wind had gone out of my sails, “aw, no need to be glum, chum! Equestria’s chock-full of neat stuff to find! But you’ll stick around here for a few days, right? Tell some stories?”

“I don’t see a reason not to. Afterall, I’d prefer having some level of direction on where to go next. Idle hooves will trot toward Tartarus, so I’ve been told.”

“Wellll~ why donch’ya ask Miss Merope here?”

… I’m really not surprised that Pinkie knows Merope; knowing ponies is kinda one of her things. Regardless, Pinkie had generously provided me the in for another bout of questioning.

“Well, Miss?”

Merope pursed her lips- an apparently rare display of visible emotion, if my encounter with her so far was any indication of her usual outwardly-projected personality. There would be a pregnant pause, before she’d finally, if tentatively, engage in the conversation.

“... What is it you seek, when you ask for ‘direction?’ “

I press my elbows to the oaken table, pushing my posture upwards. I wanted to capitalize on this progress Pinkie had pushed out of the Moon-Servant, fearful of letting the chance slip by, and having Merope retreat back into her shell. But even still, the question left me searching my own thoughts. Why?

“... I seek adventure, something I can say I was apart of… It doesn’t need to be grand- just,”

This shouldn’t be so hard a question to answer.

“just another thing to leave my mark on.”

Merope searched my eyes. Her own looked almost as if totally blind, yet, with the intensity of which they scanned me…

“Why?”

I was taken aback by the question. ‘Why?’ Again with the ‘why?!’ Was this so hard a concept to grasp? First that mare in Jamber, now here?

“Should I need reason more? I’ve traveled across the length of Equestria twice over at this point, rebounding on my trail many times. I seek it because I want to.”

Merope’s gaze only deepened, now marred with a thin glare. I hadn’t meant to sound defensive. I looked to Pinkie for her reaction, to see if the conversation had gone awry to all parties, yet she seemed… at peace? Maybe that wasn’t the right word, but her look certainly didn’t carry the nervousness of an introduction gone sour that I was admittedly expecting. What did she know that I didn’t?

Merope let my response hang in each other’s thoughts for a few moments, giving all creatures present some time to think upon their intention, before she’d speak again.

“A selfish need compels you, then.”

“Selfish insomuch that it is something I wish to achieve and continue to achieve for my own reasons, yes.”

Merope stared for a few moments longer, before softening her gaze, beginning to nod her head.

“Yes, yes you are right.”

… I didn’t like much to talk with those who speak in mystique and riddle.

“So, what, you were a soothsayer in Luna’s Court or something?”

Merope shook her head.

“I was Seliniakó Paladin, a discoverer- and vanquisher, of My Princesses’ lingering miasma.”

“Never heard of the title.”

“Your adventures kept you far from Canterlot Castle, and rarely did you travel where my cavalry went, then.”

Apt enough, I suppose… Though it may have been an insult.

“And what did your cavalry do?”

Merope cannot hold her smile back now, however slight it was. A faint giddyness from her gently brought me from my mounting bluntness. Good thing too, for I was ereing on the edge of rude sarcasm.

“Locate traces of Nightmare Moon’s madness, and purge it back into the ethereal.”

… I chanced another look at Pinkie, who now sat excitably peaceful at our tableside, actively passive in a way only she could be, seemingly feeling quite content with the gears she’d set in motion. My surprise quickly gave way to self-admonishment: Of course a pony as talkative as Pinkie Pie would know when conversation needed help, and when it needed silence. Matron of Sociability that she was, she stood sentinel, waiting patiently for her next opportunity to help push us along, if need be.

“Nightmare Moon? She’s been gone since Pinkie here and her friends found their Elements.”

Pinkie nodded, though her full attention was focused somewhere in the space between Merope and I.

“They saved My Princess, yes, but did not clean entirely the isolated darkness that remained after her return.”

I rested my head atop the bridge of loosely clasped hands. I was interested, admittedly, but still felt the sting of that simple, annoying question. Stubbornness dictate that I remain standoffish, even if it works against my favor.

“So her power still remains across the world?”

Merope closed her eyes, gently pushing her plate back and forth between her hooves on the table.

“In scant pockets, often weak and inert. Their purposes, individual and unique to each locale, are long forgotten, though that matters little. They’re there at all, and that is reason enough to pursue and rid of them. My Princess needs no remembrance of the corruption that once wracked her mind, and bade her misuse of the Night which follows clear rules.”

“... Rules?”

Merope lapsed from her quiet enjoyment, thinking of happier times.

“I could lecture you on the dogma of the celestial bodies and the purpose they must fulfill at the behest of My Princess, if you’d wish to hear. It is a subject kept close to my heart.”

“Do tell.”

She opens her mouth, but gives herself chance to collect her thoughts.

“Think to your mane. We’re creatures of habit, and often keep it styled a certain fashion,” Merope magicked a lock of her mane in telekinetic grip and bent it against its natural curve “keep it in such a way for so long, it will know to remain as such. Drastically changing its form…” The aura faded, and the hair fell back into its proper shape. “Will be met with resistance, if not utter refute. The Heavens operate in a similar manner: To move the Moon differently from how My Princess has nightly for thousands of years would be a much harder endeavour compared to the status quo- require much more force behind the push, so to say.” Merope clopped her hooves to the table, only to punctuate her point: “Now say My Princess seeks to move the Moon to the focal point of Heaven, the crest of the Firmament, and hang it there perpetually. Say she has withdrawn from her peers: Advisors, aides, Nobles, servants… even her own loving Sister. My Princess is no longer listening, and she is acting rashly with justifications that she will not share with any.”

“My Princess, in this case, is met with much more hardship than the strain of improperly guiding the Moon.”

I readjust my position.

“That wasn’t too long of a lecture.”

Merope smiles, and bites from her cupcake.

“I dumbed it down for my audience.”

I smile back.

Author's Note

I'm back! Admittedly, I've hit major writer's block and lack of vision on nearly every asset of this story- and I'm unsure where I want things to go from here entirely. I'm not sure when it will continue, or in what form that would take, but I very much hate to leave a work unfinished. At any rate, I think through my tests here that I'm ultimately dissatisfied with writing in first-person and in the present-tense. I found myself slipping out of it constantly and needing to go back and make immediate revisions, which definitely halts the writing process and I'm sure this effect is noticeable in this chapter. If you're willing, I'd very much appreciate some advice or ideas regarding the story in the comments if you have them. God knows I don't.

Perhaps I'll return to that idea of writing in a encyclopedic/explanatory format that I played with in the first chapter: I very much enjoyed writing that chapter and from comments it seemed the style was appealing to some as well.

Until my next story- or perhaps even the deserved continuation of this one: I hope to see you again.