Quills and Sofas Anthologyby Scrying MindChaptersA Fraternal DisputeA Tapestry MendedAn Icy GraveAgainOne DayNightmaresThe Battle of AppleloosaA Fraternal Dispute“I’m sorry, but WHAT!?” Flim looked at his brother, his eye twitching and his teeth clenched. “‘My idea’? How can this possibly be considered MY idea!?” Flam looked back with a calm expression and replied, “Simple. You advocated for it.” Flim stamped his hoof on the ground, causing the floor to shake. He turned from his brother and walked to the other side of the small room. He stood facing the wall with his eyes squeezed shut as he slowly said, “Let me get this straight. You mean to tell me that I’m the one who came up with this simply because I’m the one who sold it?” After a long silence, Flam shrugged and replied, “Well, partially. If you don’t think that’s true, I’ll gladly explain more.” This response hung in the air for a minute. The only sound was that of the ticking clock displayed on the wall. Flim whipped back around to face Flam, trembling in anger. “I can’t believe this!” he shouted. “In what world does this have anything to do with me!? I said that we should just keep selling cider, and you said that we had to adjust our ‘business parameters’. Not only was profit the sole motivator, but you didn’t believe that we could succeed with our original product!” With exasperation evident both on his face and in his voice, Flam replied again, “I said it then and I’ll say it now. Those Apples completely ruined our reputation. It didn’t matter that we had a superior product. Who do you think the ponies will believe: two small-time entrepreneurs, or the element of honesty?” “And? Do explain how this is my idea.” “You came up with many of the sales. Remember Friendship University?” Flim’s mouth hung open before he found the words to respond. “But I only came up with ideas because of you! You insisted we become con artists. If you’re so good with ideas and business, why couldn’t you figure out how to salvage our first one?” Flam’s calm demeanor finally cracked. He stopped, a mixture of offense and shock on his face. He took three steps back and swallowed a lump in his throat. He tried to speak, but Flim’s accusatory glare made him wither. Why had he felt that need? Why did he decide to resort to cons? Most importantly… Why did he feel so bad about it? He tried to shake himself out of his trance. Of course he had taken the logical route. Their business couldn’t prosper with the scorn of the element bearers, so he proposed an alternative course of action. What was so wrong with that? They had to live somehow. “Flam, I’m sorry.” This simple sentence was enough to snap Flam’s attention back into the real world. He noticed that he was shaking, but he was still thinking about what Flim said. I’m sorry. That was all. No request, no teasing, not even a proposed solution. That was very unusual for either of them. What made Flam even more perplexed, however, was the tone of voice. Even when Flim wasn’t selling a product, he usually sounded that way. Now, however, he didn’t. He was being completely genuine, which was something Flam hadn’t heard since they were colts. “Flam?” Flam looked at his brother. Flim was concerned, that much was obvious. No, it was obvious that Flim was concerned for him. Not the two of them, but specifically Flam. “Flam.” “Huh?” Flam finally responded. “Right, yes. Like I was saying, the best course for our business to take was to-” “Flam, I can tell when you’re trying to hide something. You’re not as good of a salespony as me, remember?” “So you keep reminding me.” Flam’s voice was dismissive, but his pupils were still dilated. “It’s important to keep our goal in sight.” “And what is that goal?” Unlike earlier, Flim’s voice was calm, almost consoling. “What do you really want out of this?” Flam furrowed his brow as he pondered the question. It couldn’t be the money; Flam could easily make it in the world of business. It couldn’t be the travel; he could go wherever he wanted… “What about you?” he asked, “What do you want out of this?” Flim smirked and fell back into his usual style of speech. “Nice try, brother of mine. I know a diversion when I see one. How about you give me an answer?” Flam finally said, “Money. It’s always been the money, hasn’t it?” Flim raised an eyebrow, eliciting a nervous chuckle from Flam. “Well,” Flam said, “that’s not entirely true. The truth is I don’t really know.” Flim gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you really expect me to believe that? You’re smart; I’m sure you can figure it out. I’m here out of necessity. Sure, I can sell pretty much anything, but that doesn’t matter if I don’t have something to sell. You on the other hoof… You can build whatever you want, whenever you want. I’m sure there’s more money to be had if you’re not always traveling.” “The truth,” Flam replied slowly, clearly thinking through the response word by word, “is that we’ve always worked together, ever since we were colts. We’ve been a great team all through our life, and our cutie marks even complete each other. I suppose I couldn’t think what it would be like if we weren’t a team.” This response left the room quiet once more. Flim was obviously trying to process what he had just been told, and he allowed the minutes to pass by. His face changed between confusion and realization before finally settling on the latter. “Okay.” Flim had a determined tone in his voice as he spoke. “We’re meant to work together; we’ve always known that, but we don’t need to be common scammers to be a team. We sacrificed our pride when we abandoned our unique products.” “That’s true,” Flam replied, also having reverted to his normal speaking voice, “so then there’s a question, isn’t there?” Flim nodded, his eyes alight with fire. “A question you’ve always been able to answer: What do we do now?” Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas dramatic contest on 03/22/2021. The prompt for this story was "I would never!" A Tapestry MendedCoco let out a sigh as the stallion she was helping left the store. She surveyed the store and checked that nopony was inside. It was good to have moments like this where the store was empty and Coco could catch her breath. It wasn’t that Coco didn’t enjoy helping customers, and it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate being hired by Rarity, but some days, especially the busy ones, could be draining. Fortunately, it was close to closing, and Coco didn’t expect to have any more stress the rest of the day. If another customer came in, it would be a simple matter. “Hello?” Coco snapped out of her thoughts and looked at the mare across the counter. It wasn’t a face she had expected to see again, and it shattered her expectations of a low-stress afternoon. “Suri?” Coco’s voice came out almost inaudibly. “Hey, Coco, sorry to bother you, but I need an outfit for a nice dinner this weekend.” Coco sat for a moment before responding, “Of course.” Few words were shared as Coco showed Suri the current clothing lines. Once Suri found exactly what she wanted, Coco helped her check out. Suri seemed conflicted about something, but didn’t say a single word. When Suri was about to leave the store, Coco finally came to a decision. “Suri!” Coco called out. Suri stopped walking but didn’t turn around. “Yeah?” “Is something the matter?” Suri turned around and looked at Coco. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, okay? I just needed a new outfit.” Coco turned her words over in her head before she spoke again. Her voice was unusually firm as she said, “Even if you don’t want to talk, I do.” “Yeah? What about?” Coco took a deep breath in before asking, “Why did you treat Rarity and me so poorly? Wasn’t there some other way to get where you wanted to go?” “Look, Coco, sometimes there are things you want and there’s only one way to get them.” “I see.” After an awkward pause, Suri offered a more complete explanation. “When I left Ponyville, I thought I’d be somepony. I couldn’t do that if I didn’t win that fashion show, okay?” “And it was worth it.” “No.” Coco looked at Suri. Although she wore her usual demeanor, there was something different about her. She could have been fidgeting slightly or shifting her eyes about. Whatever it was left an impression on Coco even if she couldn’t place exactly what it was. “I’m sorry.” Suri’s voice suddenly changed as she said that, now lacking the forceful and smug quality that usually defined it. “When I got to Manehattan, I was taught that it’s everypony for themselves in the big city. There was no way for anypony to do well without hurting a few others, okay? But when I saw how Rarity treated ponies well and managed to win the fashion show, I realized that’s not always true.” Suri seemed slightly embarrassed, so Coco offered, “Everypony makes mistakes.” It was true, everypony did make mistakes. Did that justify what Suri did? Should Coco accept the apology? No, that question was wrong. There was only one answer if Coco wanted to help Suri become a better pony. “I forgive you.” Suri looked surprised for a moment, and eventually replied, “You do?” Coco nodded. “What you did was wrong, but you thought it was the only option. Now you know better, and you’re sorry.” Suri obviously felt the need to justify herself as she continued, “I’ll do better in the future.” Coco walked over and put her hoof on Suri’s shoulder. “I know. You just need the chance.” Suri looked at Coco gratefully as she said, “That’s generous of you.” To this, Coco only smiled. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Coco Pommel contest on 03/28/2021. The prompt for this story was "Stitches". An Icy GraveIt’s not the frozen grave I’m afraid of; it’s the fact that I couldn’t save my friend. All Sombra has ever been to me is kind. Nopony else saw it, but I could... I knew there was still that lonely little colt somewhere deep inside. But I failed him, and now that colt might be gone forever. Sisters, it’s cold. This tiny, dark cave has swallowed me among its damp, cold rocks. With little light and nothing to eat, all I can do is look outside and remember that it’s better than the blizzard that would take me if I tried to leave. I’ve already cast over a dozen healing spells to ward off frostbite, but I don’t know how many more I have in me. I’m so, so tired. I was so happy to help him find the pieces of Princess Amore. I thought that maybe when we brought her back, my dear, sweet Sombra would be back—fully back—too. It was the first thing he ever did wrong; maybe it would be the last thing he’d need to fix before he could heal. We found a good number of the shards scattered across the hospitable areas of the empire, but we couldn’t find all of them. Sombra wanted to protect me, but I could see the truth the whole time. He’s always been bad at hiding things from me. I saw the pain and strife on his face every time he tried to locate the next shard, and he eventually couldn’t avoid it anymore. “Hope, I think... I think we have to go north.” The umbrum have connections to the crystals they make, so I knew he wasn’t wrong. And it’s not like I was surprised. So we took our adventure north, into the most frozen, frigid reaches of the Arctic North. Our supplies lasted just as we expected them to, and everything went according to plan for a while. Until about two months into our expedition. We had been traveling for five days, and we were talking, laughing, and dreaming about what we’d do once this was over. I could see the gleam of hope back in those wide green eyes. ‘Hope’. That’s me, isn’t it? A hollow, broken promise of a future that will never come to pass. The next stop on our trail was a small town called Frozen Falls, where I was supposed to resupply before returning to Sombra and continuing to where we believed the last shard lay. But when I got into town, all the doors were closed and all the lights were off. Nailed to the door of the town hall was a note: To the Tyrant and the Crystal Traitor, If you’re reading this, you’ve decided to target our town next. We refuse to be swindled into helping a monster or the mare who helped him return. We have returned to the main city with all of our equipment, and we doubt we’ll see you there. Good luck. I was mortified. Upon my return, Sombra saw my empty saddlebags and immediately knew what had happened. I hadn’t seen his face contorted with such rage since Twilight struck me down and he released the umbrum. He stomped and swore, promising to do unspeakable things for me. I told him to stop. He didn’t listen. I suggested we find that last shard of Amore, and he finally turned to look at me. If we revived Amore, perhaps she could help. Perhaps finishing our quest would be the thing that saved our lives. If you have ever thought you’ve seen the most reckless travelers out there, you were wrong. We were fast; we were careless. We had no supplies to spare, and we knew that. We knew that our biggest enemy was time. We thought that our biggest enemy was time. But our biggest enemies were cold and hunger. We were making our way along a narrow path cut into the side of a cliff. I couldn’t feel my legs; I couldn’t walk straight. I could barely see. Then, with one unlucky hooffall, I lost my balance. I fell. The last thing I saw of Sombra was a face full of confusion, sadness, and anger. I didn’t die on impact. Did it matter? I crawled away to this cave, and here I am. I’m cold, hungry, and tired. I'm so very tired. I think I’m going to sleep. Author's Note Tied for first place in the Quills and Sofas panic contest on 12/14/2022. The prompt for this story was "Super-Duper Cold". AgainPharynx liked being in charge of security. He still got to feel like he was protecting the Hive, even when the Hive had gone soft. Unfortunately, he seemed to be the only one to actually care about security, and all the other changelings thought they could just leave it up to him. So he had to do everything himself, even if it called for going to Equestria. He was in Canterlot of all places. He could remember the attack Queen Chrysalis led him and his fellow shapeshifters on. The smell had been beautiful, but it wasn't the same anymore. It wasn't just the love he liked; it was also the fear. Not that he'd tell Thorax that. This diplomatic trip was too important to him. It was something about a trade deal. A deal which would make the changelings subservient to the ponies, Pharynx had no doubts about that. Still, Thorax was sure of this. Thorax knew the king must be obeyed, and Thorax was happy that his brother was happy. The day started off nice, but so do all days that go bad. Pharynx woke up early and grabbed the shard of Chrysalis's throne he kept as a charm. Then he waited until breakfast time to wake Thorax—the meeting was over lunch, but Thorax had a lot to do before then. They were staying in one of the spare rooms in one of Fancy Pants's houses. It was a large, ostentatious room that made Pharynx overwhelmed and anxious. He had assaulted the unicorn with questions when they received the invitation, but he really seemed to just be some noble snob who wanted to make a good impression on foreign royalty. His marefriend, Fleur de Lis, was upset that this intrusion might interfere with her particulars and habits. She was annoying, but she didn't seem to be a threat. Nopony at any of the stores seemed to mind their presence. Nopony on the street bothered them, either. They were all shopping, eating, or attending what appeared to be a talent show for magic students. Pharynx could smell trouble, but he couldn't place it. His nerves were getting to him; as a changeling, he knew trouble could be hiding anywhere he looked. Pharynx's worries were confirmed over lunch. Lunch started off nice, but so do all lunches that go bad. The princesses were cordial, and Thorax was starting to get comfortable. The food tasted fine, and the deals were turning out to be fair. He took a second bite of his salad. Maybe things were really different; maybe he was just being paranoid. As he reached for another leaf, he felt his insides convulse. It was like a maulwurf had grabbed his stomach and twisted. He let out a scream before collapsing to the ground. The day started off nice, but so do all days that go bad. Pharynx woke up early and grabbed the shard of Chrysalis's throne he kept as a charm. Then he waited until breakfast time to wake Thorax—the meeting was over lunch, but Thorax had a lot to do before then. They were staying in one of the spare rooms in one of Fancy Pants's houses. It was a large, ostentatious room that made Pharynx overwhelmed and anxious. He had assaulted the unicorn with questions when they received the invitation, but he really seemed to just be some noble snob who wanted to make a good impression on foreign royalty. His marefriend, Fleur de Lis, was upset that this intrusion might interfere with her particulars and habits. She was annoying, but she didn't seem to be a threat. Pharynx stopped dead in his tracks the moment he and Thorax walked out the door. "What's wrong, Pharynx?" Thorax sounded genuinely confused. Pharynx's eyes darted around. "I, well, I think—" Thorax looked concerned. "Come on," Pharynx said. "Let's just get this meeting over with. I don't want to be in this country longer than I have to." He didn't care if the meeting wasn't for another several hours; he ignored his brother's protests and dashed towards the castle. He felt like he had done this before, like in a dream. He had taken Thorax to the castle, he had passed ponies shopping and eating, and he had passed— He turned the corner and saw a group of ponies setting up some sort of stage outside of a building signed Celestia's School For Gifted Unicorns. He faltered. He had definitely seen that red stage before. "Pharynx, wait!" Thorax had finally caught up. "The princesses aren't expecting us yet." "Thorax, listen to me," Pharynx said. "I don't know what's happening, but we need to leave Canterlot." "But we need to talk to the Princesses about the trade negotiations," Thorax said. "We can't just leave." Don't look at me like that. "I know you're stressed. Let's go see if we can get the princesses to talk to us early, then we can go." "Fine." Lunch started off nice, but so do all lunches that go bad. The princesses were cordial, and Thorax was starting to get comfortable. Pharynx was anything but comfortable. Thorax apologized for the intrusion and said they were urgently called back to the Hive. Pharynx was told the food tasted good, but he refused to eat any. The princesses seemed to be making a concerted effort, to be fair. After several hours of talking and haggling, along with a few words of input from Pharynx, the deal was struck and signed. "It was a pleasure, Thorax," Celestia said. "I hope this works out best for both Equestria and the changelings." "Sister," Luna said, "you can go watch your school's talent show now that our meeting has ended. The highlight act should be starting now." "That's a wonderful idea!" Celestia said as Pharynx's stomach burned with agony. "I'll do that." Everything went black. The day started off nice, but so do— Pharynx jumped out of bed and desperately shook Thorax awake. "Pharynx?" Thorax said. "What is it?" "What day is it?" Pharynx hadn't heard himself sound so threatening since he accepted the changelings' new form of love. Thorax shrunk into his bed and pulled the sheets closer. "It's the fifteenth. We go do the trade deal today, remember?" Pharynx didn't bother listening for more. He grabbed his lucky shard and galloped outside. He was supposed to be good at stopping threats, so he was going to Tartarus before he let this happen again. Now where would he find ponies capable of this kind of magic who weren't princesses? The answer was obvious. That damned magic school. He galloped over and saw the beginnings of the red stage, and he stomped his way up the steps. "You won't be doing this talent show!" The teachers and students looked at each other in confusion. "Why not?" asked one of the students, a teenaged mare with a curly mane and a pocket watch cutie mark. "Every day I get here, things go wrong, and I know it has something to do with this school." "But our talent show doesn't happen every day?" Pharynx didn't have the time for this. With a grunt, he turned and kicked the nearest table, snapping one of its legs in two. None of the members of the school could stop him, and he had destroyed over three-quarters of the equipment before the royal guard arrived. They had to drag him away from the fragments of clay, glass, and wood hissing and kicking. Once he was in chains and a police transport, he sat and waited; there was nothing else to do. He watched through the bars as buildings and ponies passed by. He saw Thorax talking to a worried Twilight Sparkle, he saw guard ponies filing paperwork, he saw a good many things before he was shoved into a small holding cell in the guardpost by Canterlot Castle. Then he watched through his barred window. He saw the sun reach its zenith. He saw the sun set. Nothing happened to him or to his stomach. He smiled and waited for Thorax to arrive. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Among Us contest on 03/28/2021. The prompt for this story was "On the Clock". One DayDon’t worry, Grimmy. I’ll get back to you one day. It was Hearts and Hooves Day in Ponyville. Couples walked up and down the street, buying flowers, chatting, and generally enjoying their time with their very special someponies. Love was in the air, which was wonderful to the sentimental of heart and the florist of profession. Whether playing games, admiring nature, admiring each other, or just sitting on benches, everypony with burning love in their hearts got to express that; they got to be happy. Everypony except Flash Magnus. He stood outside Doctor Hooves’s laboratory anxiously, waiting for the stallion to answer his knock. Maybe he wasn’t home. Maybe he had a special somepony and didn’t wish to be disturbed. Flash wouldn’t blame him, but he hoped beyond hope it wasn’t the case. Finally, the door opened. The brown stallion behind it was clearly not expecting visitors, but had taken special interest in his appearance anyway. Perhaps someone was already visiting him. “May I help you?” he asked. “Yes, are you Doctor Hooves? Twilight told me this was his house,” Flash said. Hooves glanced back towards something in his home. “I’m a bit predisposed at the moment. Would you mind coming back tomorrow?” “No!” Flash quelled the desperation in his voice. “No, this needs to be done today. Please.” Hooves looked him over, and Flash was sure he was about to be turned away. But just as the Earth pony seemed as though he were about to give that crushing verdict, a small noise—a cough?—from behind him made him reconsider. “Very well. Come in.” The inside of the laboratory was strange, to say the least. Flashes of light, sparks of electricity, and a perpetual humming of magi-electrical machinery filled the space. Bulky machines were crowded in one side of the room, and a small coffee table, armchair, and loveseat had been set up to the side. A gray pegasus already seated on the loveseat looked at them with a wall-eyed gaze. “Hello!” she waved. “How are you doing today?” Flash felt a bit of his heart flee as he collapsed into the armchair. It felt as though somepony had draped a blanket of lead on top of him. “I’d be a lot better if I could see Grimhoof,” he said. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” the gray mare said. “Maybe you could go visit him?” “That’s exactly what I was hoping you could help me with,” Flash said, looking at Hooves. Hooves looked around as he sat down next to his marefriend. “Me? I’m not a travel expert, unfortunately. I don’t think I can help you.” Flash couldn’t help but smile. “Ah, but I’ve heard that you do specialize in travel, of a certain sort. Twilight told me that you knew a way to send me back in time. Or, to put it more accurately, bring time forward to me.” “Why, yes! I can!” Hooves fiddled with his bow tie in excitement. “But, I need to ask, why not do it with magic? Don’t you know Starswirl the Bearded? He’s done time spells before, and I’m sure it would be more reliable.” Flash thought back to when he thought that was a good idea. “You’re a fool, Flash Magnus. This never ends well. I have watched time and worlds be twisted for the purposes of love, and I won’t help it again.” “I didn’t want to bother him,” Flash said. “It’s not an easy process, you know, and I haven’t tested it fully on ponies yet. Why, who knows the side-effects!? Are you sure you’d like to do this?” Flash took a deep breath and conjured up an image of the Cloudsdale Legion barracks, back in the old days. He conjured up an image of his friends and fellow soldiers. He conjured up an image of Grimhoof. His blue coat, his piercing eyes, his lean muscles, that scar across his right foreleg that only Flash was allowed to touch... “I’ll do it,” Flash said. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” Hooves looked over at Derpy, who nodded with a smile. “Everypony should see their favorite pony on Hearts and Hooves Day!” Doctor Hooves stood up and started tugging on one of the large apparatuses tucked away in a corner. Seeing this, Flash Magnus sprang into the air and dashed over the help pull. Together, they unearthed a large, spherical machine which split open like an egg. “You go in there,” Hooves said, “and I’ll try to send you off to whenever you’d like to go. Just remember you don’t have much time. Because time is finicky. It doesn’t like when you mess with it.” Flash hopped into the cold brass shell, carefully placing his hooves around the bolts and rivets. “I want to go to a Hearts and Hooves Day sometime after I left. I want to tell him why I vanished. I want to say a proper goodbye.” Hooves walked to the side of the machine and out of sight, and the sounds of knobs and buttons began to fill the room. In just a few seconds, the brass egg closed up on Flash, leaving him in pitch darkness. If he were ever pressed to describe what happened next, Flash would have been at a loss for words. The best he could come up with when describing it to Rockhoof was that he was aboard a boat sailing down an ocean at a 45-degree angle. He felt sick. He wanted to vomit. He tried to correct for the sudden change in the angle of the ground, but this leaning made him fall onto his side. He was a shaking, panting mess by the time the capsule hatched open again and he saw the sun above. He was obviously back home. Not Cloudsdale—not yet—but his time. He could see Cloudsdale in the distance, and it was beautiful. It was home. Flash leapt to his feet and started wobbling towards it. As soon as he was well enough to, he launched into the air and flew ever faster towards his love. He didn’t stop when Nimbus called out to him. He didn’t identify at any checkpoints. I didn’t care when Bella asked why he had vanished for three years. He made his way to a small patch of cloud a few hundred meters off the southern tip of Cloudsdale—the small patch of cloud where he had gone on his first date with Grimhoof. There he was. Sun gleaming off his mane and letting shadows accentuate his sharp features. Grimhoof sat in the same spot he and Flash sat every Hearts and Hooves day. As he looked over, Flash tackled him with a hug. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Grimmy.” Flash was crying. Good. He didn’t need to be strong with Grimhoof; he needed to be real. “Flash, you’ve been gone for years! You didn’t send word. You didn’t send letters. I worried—” “I know, I know,” Flash said, “but I’ll explain that soon. For now, I need you to know that I love you.” Grimhoof smiled and rested his chin on Flash’s cheek. “I love you too, Flash.” Flash cried the happiest tears he’d ever cried and lay on the ground, sprawled across his coltfriend’s chest. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Hearts and Hooves Day contest on 02/11/2023. The prompt for this story was "Far Away". NightmaresShadow Lock bolted upright in his bed, sweating. It had been two months since Twilight and her friends stopped him at the museum, and his nights had only gotten worse. First it was nightmares every week, then every few nights, and soon after he found himself tossing and turning every single night. He hadn’t had a peaceful night’s rest in a full three weeks. He was losing it; he knew that. His mane and tail were knotted and disheveled, he stumbled as he walked, and his blood-red eyes had deep, dark bags beneath them. If he could just wake up, everything would be fine. Coffee. He needed coffee. Without getting out of bed, he started a fire and got the water boiling. He didn’t need to get up; he had dragged his bed over to his stove sometime the previous week. Then he made sure to keep a full pot of water ready before he went to bed. Falling back asleep before he had the energy to go make his coffee... It had happened more times than he cared to think about. It was a team of bank robbers this time. Every single night, he would be haunted by one of the figures he had pulled off of pages to fight for him. And if he could remember any of the poor stories he’d erased, he knew they would call on him, cursing the name “Shadow Lock.” So much for traveling. So much for finding...whatever it was he wanted to find. Now he just sat in his little rented room, shaking and spluttering, usually too afraid to walk out the door. Perhaps he would see whatever thing his ancestor had become, calling on him to be next. Worse, he might see the princess and her friends; they might see the failure he was and the promises he had broken. The kettle was screaming at him. He slowly raised himself to his feet and shakily measured out twice the amount of coffee grounds recommended for the water he was using. He carefully pressed and poured his coffee, but his levitation spell flickered and sent his mug to the counter with a clatter. It fell upright, and only a small stain lay next to it, but Shadow Lock decided to use his hooves to drink. He scribbled a note in his journal; it had become simply a string of numbers counting the hours he slept each night. Four, two, nine, seven, three, one, and now another four. It wasn’t good, but it could be worse. At least he was starting to feel more awake. “Lock?” His landlord, Hooves, was calling to him through the door. Shadow Lock considered ignoring him, but there was no way he could pretend he was out. He dragged open the heavy wooden door and squinted. He could barely focus on the earth pony with those bright flashing lights and electric currents assaulting his eyes from the room behind. “Ah, Mr. Lock,” Hooves said. “Are you doing quite well?” “Yeah... Yeah, I’m fine.” Shadow Lock said. “What’s this about? Have I bothered you?” “No, you haven’t.” Hooves thought for a moment. “Well, you were making quite a stir last night.” Shadow Lock winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “I didn’t say you did. In fact, I’m worried about you, and so is Derpy. My friend. Have you met her?” “I haven’t.” “She asked me to invite you to lunch today. I thought it might be nice for you to get out of that room.” “You...told her I was living here? What if she tells somepony else? What if Twilight—” “It’s fine, I didn’t tell her your name,” Hooves said. “With your insistence that Twilight didn’t know you were here, I find it difficult to understand why you chose to stay in Ponyville.” Because it’s out of the way, and I didn’t know where else to go. “Will you come with us?” “No, I won’t.” Hooves sighed, shrugged, and looked over Shadow Lock’s shoulder. Into his room. The unicorn could tell that he was judging it. But he wasn’t looking at the moved bed; he was looking at the sad, empty bookshelves. Shadow Lock used to love reading. He would lose himself in stories day in and day out. The reason he started learning bibliomancy in the first place was to meet his heroes. But ever since he found that cursed book—ever since he found out he was descended from a monster—he couldn’t enjoy reading. He started on his quest of erasure, and he hadn’t actually read a book since. “Take my library card.” Hooves dropped the small piece of plastic into his hoof. “It can’t be good for you to sit locked in that room all day doing nothing. And if running into Twilight or her friends is a concern, just go out on a weekend; they’ll probably be off on some kind of adventure.” Hooves walked away, leaving Shadow Lock staring at the familiar rectangular card. He thought of all the thinking and the lack of sleep. He couldn’t take it anymore; he couldn’t take the nothing. Reading just one story couldn’t hurt. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Monday Mornings contest on 12/12/2022. The prompt for this story was "Mornings". The Battle of AppleloosaThe ponies tore the land to shreds in fear of moon, if Canterlot they called their home, or sun, if Albion had given shade to rebel thoughts they harbored in their heads. The new machines of iron and of gold tore into sacred sites. For new machines were always needed. Fire and tar fell down from up above on unsuspecting towns who made the grave mistake of feeling sad when Death claimed members of the wrong side. Among the senseless deaths of innocents, there were some towns that pledged to help the war like Appleloosa, which had pegasi to scout the earth and spells to guard the air so mechanized destruction couldn’t reach the mines and quarries bleeding gold and white. Celestia’s great sun dipped in the sky and let her banners flash their red and gold across the streets below just one more time before the nighttime hours fell. The sick and vile cowards of the dark may come, but always had they held until the dawn. Twilight Sparkle visited the site with Shining Armor, leader of the guard: she wore her tattered scholar’s robes of cloth, he wore polished, gilded captain’s plate, whose sun insignia declared his pride and loyalty to Her, Celestia, the goddess of the day. His breastplate shone to spread Her influence to all who stood against him, blinding armies with her light. While Twilight couldn’t fight with him, she learned. She studied ancient, moldy, fragile tomes she found unearthed from ruined libraries or torn from fleeing soldiers’ hooves. The enemy had taken things both sacred and occult and spent their lives profaning their designs. She swore that she could learn to use the lore the way the shadows in the darkness did, and, escort being granted her, she read. Their time in Appleloosa was to be quick: a glance inside their library, a speech to all their troops—a show of faith and care. The crowd had gathered on the ground below as insects wait for orders from their queen, and Twilight stood at her brother’s right side atop the wall. Her brother rallied them: “Don’t question if your service is of use to your home or to your families. You’re the wasps that guard the thorny hedge around the clearing ponies safely play inside. Equestria’s protections rise from pools of iron and towers of stone, but stone and iron need you here to save them from the spiders in the black of night. So listen here! My new informant stole A list of battles, tactics, all with notes of where and where and why they might succeed, and Appleloosa’s head is on the block. They plan to enter through the mines, a cave will let them in. Their potions made of fire will melt the metal found within and choke the passages. With no escape, they’ll charge inside our walls to catch us from behind as outwardly we watch for them, the knife will find our lungs quite easy from behind. And those of us who turn to give a fight will strangle on the toxins and the fumes of potions, spells, and underhanded ploys that fog your mind enough for them to call Death, their only friend, to cut your mane. The plan is scheduled for this very night, and I believe our strategy is clear. We split our forces: guard the mines and walls, with vastly more below than up above. We’ll beat them fair and square. Their own designs will fall upon their heads a thousand times.” And soon the preparations had been made, and soon the guards were stationed at their posts, and everypony waiting held their breaths. The slaughter started not inside the mines with any kind of break-in or collapse, but Luna’s forces gathered just outside, and quickly entered through the city’s gates. Penny Ante noticed things amiss and squinted through the cloudy, moonless night, but as she turned around the call for help, a mass of fur and leather wings appeared. She hit the stone; her breath and voice were gone; she tried to push the pony off her back; but her assailant grabbed her head in hoof, and left a bloody streak upon the rock. Black Stone did shout before his neck was snapped and body thrown into the desert wastes, but warning only doubled suffering for Yuma Spurs, who, stationed underground could only hear the panic spreading. Fear destroyed the senses of her friends, and soon the tunnels couldn’t be traversed at all. Cassidy had pushed her from his way, and caught her hoof inside a crevice fast. She tried to wriggle out, but then the mob trampled her legs and hooves to bruised lumps. The watched the fire spread and burn alive poor Toffee. Burning air had forced her back to fall by Yuma, who could smell her flesh burn and bubble in the noxious spell. Young Braeburn fled into the alleyways and called for Captain Shining Armor’s help, but no one came. Instead he sulked away and fled the city, but never that day. But Twilight fared much better than the rest, like Clever Clover in the Siege of Thrace demanded Diomedes kept alive so she could use his knowledge of the land against the rebels she was sent to find. Twilight found a sword against her throat, but not a knife inside her back. She stopped and slowly raised her hooves above her head still scanning pages of the book she read. The stallion behind her neither spoke nor let her turn her head to see his face, so all she saw of him was of his mane, a single blue lock shifting in the breeze. She closed her eyes and focused all her will until the moment she’d catch him off guard; her horn lit up, and in a flash she moved a hundred paces down the town hall floor. She looked at him and grit her teeth. She sighed and shook her head. Her brother stood in front of her, a black insignia he wore proclaiming his allegiance to the night, his darkened cloak absorbing all the light. He saw the disappointment in her eyes like a mother who, about to scold a child, will make them first believe their shame. But Shining Armor wouldn’t budge, “Enough of your blind faith to glittering golden day. I know you’ve never seen this war unfold, but dear Celestia holds blame as well, sending soldiers to their deaths to burn and bomb their schools. Their universities. For justice? No, those books you dearly love come from the hands of doctors, scholars, kids who dare to study at the wrong mare’s school! Or maybe no one’s sure which side is which, and I’m required by my oath to kill anyone they say. At least this side, this ‘Moon’s Republic’ cares to some extent about the ponies.” As he drew a breath to continue on, his sister cast a binding spell and brought him to the floor. His legs snapped in together, and he lost his balance right away. He spit the dust out of his mouth. “I won’t fight you, Twily!” But she just tore his cloak and badge right off his chest. “And now,” she said, “we’ll see just how much they will care about a pony found without their marks.” She crouched behind a desk and kept a watch to keep her misled brother safe from harm. As soldiers flooded the town hall like waves of hornets in the woods, she loosed his legs and let him stand, but back again he fell. The leader of the little group had pushed him to the ground; when Shining Armor tried to speak his name, they wanted not a sound at all. They didn’t let him squirm or talk, no matter how he wanted to explain to them his role and job. Their captains knew, and if they were around, they’d give him drink and help him up and sing his praises loud. But now the butchers looming overhead had him in their charge. The leader grinned and raised his sword, and held it up aloft so Shining Armor’d see his fate and weep. He swung it down and hit the floor. His sword split clean in two as sparks and echoes bounced aimless ‘round the dim and empty room. Shining Armor screamed for fear and pain as the thing he expected never came. He looked around and met his sister’s eyes; he felt the twinge of magic in his ears. He looked away and gazed into the sands that peaceful and unbroken stretched away. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Lyrical Contest on 03/16/2024. The prompt for this story was to use a song's lyrics as inspiration, and I chose the demo of "No Longer You" from Epic: The Musical.
A Fraternal Dispute“I’m sorry, but WHAT!?” Flim looked at his brother, his eye twitching and his teeth clenched. “‘My idea’? How can this possibly be considered MY idea!?” Flam looked back with a calm expression and replied, “Simple. You advocated for it.” Flim stamped his hoof on the ground, causing the floor to shake. He turned from his brother and walked to the other side of the small room. He stood facing the wall with his eyes squeezed shut as he slowly said, “Let me get this straight. You mean to tell me that I’m the one who came up with this simply because I’m the one who sold it?” After a long silence, Flam shrugged and replied, “Well, partially. If you don’t think that’s true, I’ll gladly explain more.” This response hung in the air for a minute. The only sound was that of the ticking clock displayed on the wall. Flim whipped back around to face Flam, trembling in anger. “I can’t believe this!” he shouted. “In what world does this have anything to do with me!? I said that we should just keep selling cider, and you said that we had to adjust our ‘business parameters’. Not only was profit the sole motivator, but you didn’t believe that we could succeed with our original product!” With exasperation evident both on his face and in his voice, Flam replied again, “I said it then and I’ll say it now. Those Apples completely ruined our reputation. It didn’t matter that we had a superior product. Who do you think the ponies will believe: two small-time entrepreneurs, or the element of honesty?” “And? Do explain how this is my idea.” “You came up with many of the sales. Remember Friendship University?” Flim’s mouth hung open before he found the words to respond. “But I only came up with ideas because of you! You insisted we become con artists. If you’re so good with ideas and business, why couldn’t you figure out how to salvage our first one?” Flam’s calm demeanor finally cracked. He stopped, a mixture of offense and shock on his face. He took three steps back and swallowed a lump in his throat. He tried to speak, but Flim’s accusatory glare made him wither. Why had he felt that need? Why did he decide to resort to cons? Most importantly… Why did he feel so bad about it? He tried to shake himself out of his trance. Of course he had taken the logical route. Their business couldn’t prosper with the scorn of the element bearers, so he proposed an alternative course of action. What was so wrong with that? They had to live somehow. “Flam, I’m sorry.” This simple sentence was enough to snap Flam’s attention back into the real world. He noticed that he was shaking, but he was still thinking about what Flim said. I’m sorry. That was all. No request, no teasing, not even a proposed solution. That was very unusual for either of them. What made Flam even more perplexed, however, was the tone of voice. Even when Flim wasn’t selling a product, he usually sounded that way. Now, however, he didn’t. He was being completely genuine, which was something Flam hadn’t heard since they were colts. “Flam?” Flam looked at his brother. Flim was concerned, that much was obvious. No, it was obvious that Flim was concerned for him. Not the two of them, but specifically Flam. “Flam.” “Huh?” Flam finally responded. “Right, yes. Like I was saying, the best course for our business to take was to-” “Flam, I can tell when you’re trying to hide something. You’re not as good of a salespony as me, remember?” “So you keep reminding me.” Flam’s voice was dismissive, but his pupils were still dilated. “It’s important to keep our goal in sight.” “And what is that goal?” Unlike earlier, Flim’s voice was calm, almost consoling. “What do you really want out of this?” Flam furrowed his brow as he pondered the question. It couldn’t be the money; Flam could easily make it in the world of business. It couldn’t be the travel; he could go wherever he wanted… “What about you?” he asked, “What do you want out of this?” Flim smirked and fell back into his usual style of speech. “Nice try, brother of mine. I know a diversion when I see one. How about you give me an answer?” Flam finally said, “Money. It’s always been the money, hasn’t it?” Flim raised an eyebrow, eliciting a nervous chuckle from Flam. “Well,” Flam said, “that’s not entirely true. The truth is I don’t really know.” Flim gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you really expect me to believe that? You’re smart; I’m sure you can figure it out. I’m here out of necessity. Sure, I can sell pretty much anything, but that doesn’t matter if I don’t have something to sell. You on the other hoof… You can build whatever you want, whenever you want. I’m sure there’s more money to be had if you’re not always traveling.” “The truth,” Flam replied slowly, clearly thinking through the response word by word, “is that we’ve always worked together, ever since we were colts. We’ve been a great team all through our life, and our cutie marks even complete each other. I suppose I couldn’t think what it would be like if we weren’t a team.” This response left the room quiet once more. Flim was obviously trying to process what he had just been told, and he allowed the minutes to pass by. His face changed between confusion and realization before finally settling on the latter. “Okay.” Flim had a determined tone in his voice as he spoke. “We’re meant to work together; we’ve always known that, but we don’t need to be common scammers to be a team. We sacrificed our pride when we abandoned our unique products.” “That’s true,” Flam replied, also having reverted to his normal speaking voice, “so then there’s a question, isn’t there?” Flim nodded, his eyes alight with fire. “A question you’ve always been able to answer: What do we do now?” Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas dramatic contest on 03/22/2021. The prompt for this story was "I would never!"
A Tapestry MendedCoco let out a sigh as the stallion she was helping left the store. She surveyed the store and checked that nopony was inside. It was good to have moments like this where the store was empty and Coco could catch her breath. It wasn’t that Coco didn’t enjoy helping customers, and it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate being hired by Rarity, but some days, especially the busy ones, could be draining. Fortunately, it was close to closing, and Coco didn’t expect to have any more stress the rest of the day. If another customer came in, it would be a simple matter. “Hello?” Coco snapped out of her thoughts and looked at the mare across the counter. It wasn’t a face she had expected to see again, and it shattered her expectations of a low-stress afternoon. “Suri?” Coco’s voice came out almost inaudibly. “Hey, Coco, sorry to bother you, but I need an outfit for a nice dinner this weekend.” Coco sat for a moment before responding, “Of course.” Few words were shared as Coco showed Suri the current clothing lines. Once Suri found exactly what she wanted, Coco helped her check out. Suri seemed conflicted about something, but didn’t say a single word. When Suri was about to leave the store, Coco finally came to a decision. “Suri!” Coco called out. Suri stopped walking but didn’t turn around. “Yeah?” “Is something the matter?” Suri turned around and looked at Coco. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, okay? I just needed a new outfit.” Coco turned her words over in her head before she spoke again. Her voice was unusually firm as she said, “Even if you don’t want to talk, I do.” “Yeah? What about?” Coco took a deep breath in before asking, “Why did you treat Rarity and me so poorly? Wasn’t there some other way to get where you wanted to go?” “Look, Coco, sometimes there are things you want and there’s only one way to get them.” “I see.” After an awkward pause, Suri offered a more complete explanation. “When I left Ponyville, I thought I’d be somepony. I couldn’t do that if I didn’t win that fashion show, okay?” “And it was worth it.” “No.” Coco looked at Suri. Although she wore her usual demeanor, there was something different about her. She could have been fidgeting slightly or shifting her eyes about. Whatever it was left an impression on Coco even if she couldn’t place exactly what it was. “I’m sorry.” Suri’s voice suddenly changed as she said that, now lacking the forceful and smug quality that usually defined it. “When I got to Manehattan, I was taught that it’s everypony for themselves in the big city. There was no way for anypony to do well without hurting a few others, okay? But when I saw how Rarity treated ponies well and managed to win the fashion show, I realized that’s not always true.” Suri seemed slightly embarrassed, so Coco offered, “Everypony makes mistakes.” It was true, everypony did make mistakes. Did that justify what Suri did? Should Coco accept the apology? No, that question was wrong. There was only one answer if Coco wanted to help Suri become a better pony. “I forgive you.” Suri looked surprised for a moment, and eventually replied, “You do?” Coco nodded. “What you did was wrong, but you thought it was the only option. Now you know better, and you’re sorry.” Suri obviously felt the need to justify herself as she continued, “I’ll do better in the future.” Coco walked over and put her hoof on Suri’s shoulder. “I know. You just need the chance.” Suri looked at Coco gratefully as she said, “That’s generous of you.” To this, Coco only smiled. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Coco Pommel contest on 03/28/2021. The prompt for this story was "Stitches".
An Icy GraveIt’s not the frozen grave I’m afraid of; it’s the fact that I couldn’t save my friend. All Sombra has ever been to me is kind. Nopony else saw it, but I could... I knew there was still that lonely little colt somewhere deep inside. But I failed him, and now that colt might be gone forever. Sisters, it’s cold. This tiny, dark cave has swallowed me among its damp, cold rocks. With little light and nothing to eat, all I can do is look outside and remember that it’s better than the blizzard that would take me if I tried to leave. I’ve already cast over a dozen healing spells to ward off frostbite, but I don’t know how many more I have in me. I’m so, so tired. I was so happy to help him find the pieces of Princess Amore. I thought that maybe when we brought her back, my dear, sweet Sombra would be back—fully back—too. It was the first thing he ever did wrong; maybe it would be the last thing he’d need to fix before he could heal. We found a good number of the shards scattered across the hospitable areas of the empire, but we couldn’t find all of them. Sombra wanted to protect me, but I could see the truth the whole time. He’s always been bad at hiding things from me. I saw the pain and strife on his face every time he tried to locate the next shard, and he eventually couldn’t avoid it anymore. “Hope, I think... I think we have to go north.” The umbrum have connections to the crystals they make, so I knew he wasn’t wrong. And it’s not like I was surprised. So we took our adventure north, into the most frozen, frigid reaches of the Arctic North. Our supplies lasted just as we expected them to, and everything went according to plan for a while. Until about two months into our expedition. We had been traveling for five days, and we were talking, laughing, and dreaming about what we’d do once this was over. I could see the gleam of hope back in those wide green eyes. ‘Hope’. That’s me, isn’t it? A hollow, broken promise of a future that will never come to pass. The next stop on our trail was a small town called Frozen Falls, where I was supposed to resupply before returning to Sombra and continuing to where we believed the last shard lay. But when I got into town, all the doors were closed and all the lights were off. Nailed to the door of the town hall was a note: To the Tyrant and the Crystal Traitor, If you’re reading this, you’ve decided to target our town next. We refuse to be swindled into helping a monster or the mare who helped him return. We have returned to the main city with all of our equipment, and we doubt we’ll see you there. Good luck. I was mortified. Upon my return, Sombra saw my empty saddlebags and immediately knew what had happened. I hadn’t seen his face contorted with such rage since Twilight struck me down and he released the umbrum. He stomped and swore, promising to do unspeakable things for me. I told him to stop. He didn’t listen. I suggested we find that last shard of Amore, and he finally turned to look at me. If we revived Amore, perhaps she could help. Perhaps finishing our quest would be the thing that saved our lives. If you have ever thought you’ve seen the most reckless travelers out there, you were wrong. We were fast; we were careless. We had no supplies to spare, and we knew that. We knew that our biggest enemy was time. We thought that our biggest enemy was time. But our biggest enemies were cold and hunger. We were making our way along a narrow path cut into the side of a cliff. I couldn’t feel my legs; I couldn’t walk straight. I could barely see. Then, with one unlucky hooffall, I lost my balance. I fell. The last thing I saw of Sombra was a face full of confusion, sadness, and anger. I didn’t die on impact. Did it matter? I crawled away to this cave, and here I am. I’m cold, hungry, and tired. I'm so very tired. I think I’m going to sleep. Author's Note Tied for first place in the Quills and Sofas panic contest on 12/14/2022. The prompt for this story was "Super-Duper Cold".
AgainPharynx liked being in charge of security. He still got to feel like he was protecting the Hive, even when the Hive had gone soft. Unfortunately, he seemed to be the only one to actually care about security, and all the other changelings thought they could just leave it up to him. So he had to do everything himself, even if it called for going to Equestria. He was in Canterlot of all places. He could remember the attack Queen Chrysalis led him and his fellow shapeshifters on. The smell had been beautiful, but it wasn't the same anymore. It wasn't just the love he liked; it was also the fear. Not that he'd tell Thorax that. This diplomatic trip was too important to him. It was something about a trade deal. A deal which would make the changelings subservient to the ponies, Pharynx had no doubts about that. Still, Thorax was sure of this. Thorax knew the king must be obeyed, and Thorax was happy that his brother was happy. The day started off nice, but so do all days that go bad. Pharynx woke up early and grabbed the shard of Chrysalis's throne he kept as a charm. Then he waited until breakfast time to wake Thorax—the meeting was over lunch, but Thorax had a lot to do before then. They were staying in one of the spare rooms in one of Fancy Pants's houses. It was a large, ostentatious room that made Pharynx overwhelmed and anxious. He had assaulted the unicorn with questions when they received the invitation, but he really seemed to just be some noble snob who wanted to make a good impression on foreign royalty. His marefriend, Fleur de Lis, was upset that this intrusion might interfere with her particulars and habits. She was annoying, but she didn't seem to be a threat. Nopony at any of the stores seemed to mind their presence. Nopony on the street bothered them, either. They were all shopping, eating, or attending what appeared to be a talent show for magic students. Pharynx could smell trouble, but he couldn't place it. His nerves were getting to him; as a changeling, he knew trouble could be hiding anywhere he looked. Pharynx's worries were confirmed over lunch. Lunch started off nice, but so do all lunches that go bad. The princesses were cordial, and Thorax was starting to get comfortable. The food tasted fine, and the deals were turning out to be fair. He took a second bite of his salad. Maybe things were really different; maybe he was just being paranoid. As he reached for another leaf, he felt his insides convulse. It was like a maulwurf had grabbed his stomach and twisted. He let out a scream before collapsing to the ground. The day started off nice, but so do all days that go bad. Pharynx woke up early and grabbed the shard of Chrysalis's throne he kept as a charm. Then he waited until breakfast time to wake Thorax—the meeting was over lunch, but Thorax had a lot to do before then. They were staying in one of the spare rooms in one of Fancy Pants's houses. It was a large, ostentatious room that made Pharynx overwhelmed and anxious. He had assaulted the unicorn with questions when they received the invitation, but he really seemed to just be some noble snob who wanted to make a good impression on foreign royalty. His marefriend, Fleur de Lis, was upset that this intrusion might interfere with her particulars and habits. She was annoying, but she didn't seem to be a threat. Pharynx stopped dead in his tracks the moment he and Thorax walked out the door. "What's wrong, Pharynx?" Thorax sounded genuinely confused. Pharynx's eyes darted around. "I, well, I think—" Thorax looked concerned. "Come on," Pharynx said. "Let's just get this meeting over with. I don't want to be in this country longer than I have to." He didn't care if the meeting wasn't for another several hours; he ignored his brother's protests and dashed towards the castle. He felt like he had done this before, like in a dream. He had taken Thorax to the castle, he had passed ponies shopping and eating, and he had passed— He turned the corner and saw a group of ponies setting up some sort of stage outside of a building signed Celestia's School For Gifted Unicorns. He faltered. He had definitely seen that red stage before. "Pharynx, wait!" Thorax had finally caught up. "The princesses aren't expecting us yet." "Thorax, listen to me," Pharynx said. "I don't know what's happening, but we need to leave Canterlot." "But we need to talk to the Princesses about the trade negotiations," Thorax said. "We can't just leave." Don't look at me like that. "I know you're stressed. Let's go see if we can get the princesses to talk to us early, then we can go." "Fine." Lunch started off nice, but so do all lunches that go bad. The princesses were cordial, and Thorax was starting to get comfortable. Pharynx was anything but comfortable. Thorax apologized for the intrusion and said they were urgently called back to the Hive. Pharynx was told the food tasted good, but he refused to eat any. The princesses seemed to be making a concerted effort, to be fair. After several hours of talking and haggling, along with a few words of input from Pharynx, the deal was struck and signed. "It was a pleasure, Thorax," Celestia said. "I hope this works out best for both Equestria and the changelings." "Sister," Luna said, "you can go watch your school's talent show now that our meeting has ended. The highlight act should be starting now." "That's a wonderful idea!" Celestia said as Pharynx's stomach burned with agony. "I'll do that." Everything went black. The day started off nice, but so do— Pharynx jumped out of bed and desperately shook Thorax awake. "Pharynx?" Thorax said. "What is it?" "What day is it?" Pharynx hadn't heard himself sound so threatening since he accepted the changelings' new form of love. Thorax shrunk into his bed and pulled the sheets closer. "It's the fifteenth. We go do the trade deal today, remember?" Pharynx didn't bother listening for more. He grabbed his lucky shard and galloped outside. He was supposed to be good at stopping threats, so he was going to Tartarus before he let this happen again. Now where would he find ponies capable of this kind of magic who weren't princesses? The answer was obvious. That damned magic school. He galloped over and saw the beginnings of the red stage, and he stomped his way up the steps. "You won't be doing this talent show!" The teachers and students looked at each other in confusion. "Why not?" asked one of the students, a teenaged mare with a curly mane and a pocket watch cutie mark. "Every day I get here, things go wrong, and I know it has something to do with this school." "But our talent show doesn't happen every day?" Pharynx didn't have the time for this. With a grunt, he turned and kicked the nearest table, snapping one of its legs in two. None of the members of the school could stop him, and he had destroyed over three-quarters of the equipment before the royal guard arrived. They had to drag him away from the fragments of clay, glass, and wood hissing and kicking. Once he was in chains and a police transport, he sat and waited; there was nothing else to do. He watched through the bars as buildings and ponies passed by. He saw Thorax talking to a worried Twilight Sparkle, he saw guard ponies filing paperwork, he saw a good many things before he was shoved into a small holding cell in the guardpost by Canterlot Castle. Then he watched through his barred window. He saw the sun reach its zenith. He saw the sun set. Nothing happened to him or to his stomach. He smiled and waited for Thorax to arrive. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Among Us contest on 03/28/2021. The prompt for this story was "On the Clock".
One DayDon’t worry, Grimmy. I’ll get back to you one day. It was Hearts and Hooves Day in Ponyville. Couples walked up and down the street, buying flowers, chatting, and generally enjoying their time with their very special someponies. Love was in the air, which was wonderful to the sentimental of heart and the florist of profession. Whether playing games, admiring nature, admiring each other, or just sitting on benches, everypony with burning love in their hearts got to express that; they got to be happy. Everypony except Flash Magnus. He stood outside Doctor Hooves’s laboratory anxiously, waiting for the stallion to answer his knock. Maybe he wasn’t home. Maybe he had a special somepony and didn’t wish to be disturbed. Flash wouldn’t blame him, but he hoped beyond hope it wasn’t the case. Finally, the door opened. The brown stallion behind it was clearly not expecting visitors, but had taken special interest in his appearance anyway. Perhaps someone was already visiting him. “May I help you?” he asked. “Yes, are you Doctor Hooves? Twilight told me this was his house,” Flash said. Hooves glanced back towards something in his home. “I’m a bit predisposed at the moment. Would you mind coming back tomorrow?” “No!” Flash quelled the desperation in his voice. “No, this needs to be done today. Please.” Hooves looked him over, and Flash was sure he was about to be turned away. But just as the Earth pony seemed as though he were about to give that crushing verdict, a small noise—a cough?—from behind him made him reconsider. “Very well. Come in.” The inside of the laboratory was strange, to say the least. Flashes of light, sparks of electricity, and a perpetual humming of magi-electrical machinery filled the space. Bulky machines were crowded in one side of the room, and a small coffee table, armchair, and loveseat had been set up to the side. A gray pegasus already seated on the loveseat looked at them with a wall-eyed gaze. “Hello!” she waved. “How are you doing today?” Flash felt a bit of his heart flee as he collapsed into the armchair. It felt as though somepony had draped a blanket of lead on top of him. “I’d be a lot better if I could see Grimhoof,” he said. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” the gray mare said. “Maybe you could go visit him?” “That’s exactly what I was hoping you could help me with,” Flash said, looking at Hooves. Hooves looked around as he sat down next to his marefriend. “Me? I’m not a travel expert, unfortunately. I don’t think I can help you.” Flash couldn’t help but smile. “Ah, but I’ve heard that you do specialize in travel, of a certain sort. Twilight told me that you knew a way to send me back in time. Or, to put it more accurately, bring time forward to me.” “Why, yes! I can!” Hooves fiddled with his bow tie in excitement. “But, I need to ask, why not do it with magic? Don’t you know Starswirl the Bearded? He’s done time spells before, and I’m sure it would be more reliable.” Flash thought back to when he thought that was a good idea. “You’re a fool, Flash Magnus. This never ends well. I have watched time and worlds be twisted for the purposes of love, and I won’t help it again.” “I didn’t want to bother him,” Flash said. “It’s not an easy process, you know, and I haven’t tested it fully on ponies yet. Why, who knows the side-effects!? Are you sure you’d like to do this?” Flash took a deep breath and conjured up an image of the Cloudsdale Legion barracks, back in the old days. He conjured up an image of his friends and fellow soldiers. He conjured up an image of Grimhoof. His blue coat, his piercing eyes, his lean muscles, that scar across his right foreleg that only Flash was allowed to touch... “I’ll do it,” Flash said. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” Hooves looked over at Derpy, who nodded with a smile. “Everypony should see their favorite pony on Hearts and Hooves Day!” Doctor Hooves stood up and started tugging on one of the large apparatuses tucked away in a corner. Seeing this, Flash Magnus sprang into the air and dashed over the help pull. Together, they unearthed a large, spherical machine which split open like an egg. “You go in there,” Hooves said, “and I’ll try to send you off to whenever you’d like to go. Just remember you don’t have much time. Because time is finicky. It doesn’t like when you mess with it.” Flash hopped into the cold brass shell, carefully placing his hooves around the bolts and rivets. “I want to go to a Hearts and Hooves Day sometime after I left. I want to tell him why I vanished. I want to say a proper goodbye.” Hooves walked to the side of the machine and out of sight, and the sounds of knobs and buttons began to fill the room. In just a few seconds, the brass egg closed up on Flash, leaving him in pitch darkness. If he were ever pressed to describe what happened next, Flash would have been at a loss for words. The best he could come up with when describing it to Rockhoof was that he was aboard a boat sailing down an ocean at a 45-degree angle. He felt sick. He wanted to vomit. He tried to correct for the sudden change in the angle of the ground, but this leaning made him fall onto his side. He was a shaking, panting mess by the time the capsule hatched open again and he saw the sun above. He was obviously back home. Not Cloudsdale—not yet—but his time. He could see Cloudsdale in the distance, and it was beautiful. It was home. Flash leapt to his feet and started wobbling towards it. As soon as he was well enough to, he launched into the air and flew ever faster towards his love. He didn’t stop when Nimbus called out to him. He didn’t identify at any checkpoints. I didn’t care when Bella asked why he had vanished for three years. He made his way to a small patch of cloud a few hundred meters off the southern tip of Cloudsdale—the small patch of cloud where he had gone on his first date with Grimhoof. There he was. Sun gleaming off his mane and letting shadows accentuate his sharp features. Grimhoof sat in the same spot he and Flash sat every Hearts and Hooves day. As he looked over, Flash tackled him with a hug. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Grimmy.” Flash was crying. Good. He didn’t need to be strong with Grimhoof; he needed to be real. “Flash, you’ve been gone for years! You didn’t send word. You didn’t send letters. I worried—” “I know, I know,” Flash said, “but I’ll explain that soon. For now, I need you to know that I love you.” Grimhoof smiled and rested his chin on Flash’s cheek. “I love you too, Flash.” Flash cried the happiest tears he’d ever cried and lay on the ground, sprawled across his coltfriend’s chest. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Hearts and Hooves Day contest on 02/11/2023. The prompt for this story was "Far Away".
NightmaresShadow Lock bolted upright in his bed, sweating. It had been two months since Twilight and her friends stopped him at the museum, and his nights had only gotten worse. First it was nightmares every week, then every few nights, and soon after he found himself tossing and turning every single night. He hadn’t had a peaceful night’s rest in a full three weeks. He was losing it; he knew that. His mane and tail were knotted and disheveled, he stumbled as he walked, and his blood-red eyes had deep, dark bags beneath them. If he could just wake up, everything would be fine. Coffee. He needed coffee. Without getting out of bed, he started a fire and got the water boiling. He didn’t need to get up; he had dragged his bed over to his stove sometime the previous week. Then he made sure to keep a full pot of water ready before he went to bed. Falling back asleep before he had the energy to go make his coffee... It had happened more times than he cared to think about. It was a team of bank robbers this time. Every single night, he would be haunted by one of the figures he had pulled off of pages to fight for him. And if he could remember any of the poor stories he’d erased, he knew they would call on him, cursing the name “Shadow Lock.” So much for traveling. So much for finding...whatever it was he wanted to find. Now he just sat in his little rented room, shaking and spluttering, usually too afraid to walk out the door. Perhaps he would see whatever thing his ancestor had become, calling on him to be next. Worse, he might see the princess and her friends; they might see the failure he was and the promises he had broken. The kettle was screaming at him. He slowly raised himself to his feet and shakily measured out twice the amount of coffee grounds recommended for the water he was using. He carefully pressed and poured his coffee, but his levitation spell flickered and sent his mug to the counter with a clatter. It fell upright, and only a small stain lay next to it, but Shadow Lock decided to use his hooves to drink. He scribbled a note in his journal; it had become simply a string of numbers counting the hours he slept each night. Four, two, nine, seven, three, one, and now another four. It wasn’t good, but it could be worse. At least he was starting to feel more awake. “Lock?” His landlord, Hooves, was calling to him through the door. Shadow Lock considered ignoring him, but there was no way he could pretend he was out. He dragged open the heavy wooden door and squinted. He could barely focus on the earth pony with those bright flashing lights and electric currents assaulting his eyes from the room behind. “Ah, Mr. Lock,” Hooves said. “Are you doing quite well?” “Yeah... Yeah, I’m fine.” Shadow Lock said. “What’s this about? Have I bothered you?” “No, you haven’t.” Hooves thought for a moment. “Well, you were making quite a stir last night.” Shadow Lock winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “I didn’t say you did. In fact, I’m worried about you, and so is Derpy. My friend. Have you met her?” “I haven’t.” “She asked me to invite you to lunch today. I thought it might be nice for you to get out of that room.” “You...told her I was living here? What if she tells somepony else? What if Twilight—” “It’s fine, I didn’t tell her your name,” Hooves said. “With your insistence that Twilight didn’t know you were here, I find it difficult to understand why you chose to stay in Ponyville.” Because it’s out of the way, and I didn’t know where else to go. “Will you come with us?” “No, I won’t.” Hooves sighed, shrugged, and looked over Shadow Lock’s shoulder. Into his room. The unicorn could tell that he was judging it. But he wasn’t looking at the moved bed; he was looking at the sad, empty bookshelves. Shadow Lock used to love reading. He would lose himself in stories day in and day out. The reason he started learning bibliomancy in the first place was to meet his heroes. But ever since he found that cursed book—ever since he found out he was descended from a monster—he couldn’t enjoy reading. He started on his quest of erasure, and he hadn’t actually read a book since. “Take my library card.” Hooves dropped the small piece of plastic into his hoof. “It can’t be good for you to sit locked in that room all day doing nothing. And if running into Twilight or her friends is a concern, just go out on a weekend; they’ll probably be off on some kind of adventure.” Hooves walked away, leaving Shadow Lock staring at the familiar rectangular card. He thought of all the thinking and the lack of sleep. He couldn’t take it anymore; he couldn’t take the nothing. Reading just one story couldn’t hurt. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Monday Mornings contest on 12/12/2022. The prompt for this story was "Mornings".
The Battle of AppleloosaThe ponies tore the land to shreds in fear of moon, if Canterlot they called their home, or sun, if Albion had given shade to rebel thoughts they harbored in their heads. The new machines of iron and of gold tore into sacred sites. For new machines were always needed. Fire and tar fell down from up above on unsuspecting towns who made the grave mistake of feeling sad when Death claimed members of the wrong side. Among the senseless deaths of innocents, there were some towns that pledged to help the war like Appleloosa, which had pegasi to scout the earth and spells to guard the air so mechanized destruction couldn’t reach the mines and quarries bleeding gold and white. Celestia’s great sun dipped in the sky and let her banners flash their red and gold across the streets below just one more time before the nighttime hours fell. The sick and vile cowards of the dark may come, but always had they held until the dawn. Twilight Sparkle visited the site with Shining Armor, leader of the guard: she wore her tattered scholar’s robes of cloth, he wore polished, gilded captain’s plate, whose sun insignia declared his pride and loyalty to Her, Celestia, the goddess of the day. His breastplate shone to spread Her influence to all who stood against him, blinding armies with her light. While Twilight couldn’t fight with him, she learned. She studied ancient, moldy, fragile tomes she found unearthed from ruined libraries or torn from fleeing soldiers’ hooves. The enemy had taken things both sacred and occult and spent their lives profaning their designs. She swore that she could learn to use the lore the way the shadows in the darkness did, and, escort being granted her, she read. Their time in Appleloosa was to be quick: a glance inside their library, a speech to all their troops—a show of faith and care. The crowd had gathered on the ground below as insects wait for orders from their queen, and Twilight stood at her brother’s right side atop the wall. Her brother rallied them: “Don’t question if your service is of use to your home or to your families. You’re the wasps that guard the thorny hedge around the clearing ponies safely play inside. Equestria’s protections rise from pools of iron and towers of stone, but stone and iron need you here to save them from the spiders in the black of night. So listen here! My new informant stole A list of battles, tactics, all with notes of where and where and why they might succeed, and Appleloosa’s head is on the block. They plan to enter through the mines, a cave will let them in. Their potions made of fire will melt the metal found within and choke the passages. With no escape, they’ll charge inside our walls to catch us from behind as outwardly we watch for them, the knife will find our lungs quite easy from behind. And those of us who turn to give a fight will strangle on the toxins and the fumes of potions, spells, and underhanded ploys that fog your mind enough for them to call Death, their only friend, to cut your mane. The plan is scheduled for this very night, and I believe our strategy is clear. We split our forces: guard the mines and walls, with vastly more below than up above. We’ll beat them fair and square. Their own designs will fall upon their heads a thousand times.” And soon the preparations had been made, and soon the guards were stationed at their posts, and everypony waiting held their breaths. The slaughter started not inside the mines with any kind of break-in or collapse, but Luna’s forces gathered just outside, and quickly entered through the city’s gates. Penny Ante noticed things amiss and squinted through the cloudy, moonless night, but as she turned around the call for help, a mass of fur and leather wings appeared. She hit the stone; her breath and voice were gone; she tried to push the pony off her back; but her assailant grabbed her head in hoof, and left a bloody streak upon the rock. Black Stone did shout before his neck was snapped and body thrown into the desert wastes, but warning only doubled suffering for Yuma Spurs, who, stationed underground could only hear the panic spreading. Fear destroyed the senses of her friends, and soon the tunnels couldn’t be traversed at all. Cassidy had pushed her from his way, and caught her hoof inside a crevice fast. She tried to wriggle out, but then the mob trampled her legs and hooves to bruised lumps. The watched the fire spread and burn alive poor Toffee. Burning air had forced her back to fall by Yuma, who could smell her flesh burn and bubble in the noxious spell. Young Braeburn fled into the alleyways and called for Captain Shining Armor’s help, but no one came. Instead he sulked away and fled the city, but never that day. But Twilight fared much better than the rest, like Clever Clover in the Siege of Thrace demanded Diomedes kept alive so she could use his knowledge of the land against the rebels she was sent to find. Twilight found a sword against her throat, but not a knife inside her back. She stopped and slowly raised her hooves above her head still scanning pages of the book she read. The stallion behind her neither spoke nor let her turn her head to see his face, so all she saw of him was of his mane, a single blue lock shifting in the breeze. She closed her eyes and focused all her will until the moment she’d catch him off guard; her horn lit up, and in a flash she moved a hundred paces down the town hall floor. She looked at him and grit her teeth. She sighed and shook her head. Her brother stood in front of her, a black insignia he wore proclaiming his allegiance to the night, his darkened cloak absorbing all the light. He saw the disappointment in her eyes like a mother who, about to scold a child, will make them first believe their shame. But Shining Armor wouldn’t budge, “Enough of your blind faith to glittering golden day. I know you’ve never seen this war unfold, but dear Celestia holds blame as well, sending soldiers to their deaths to burn and bomb their schools. Their universities. For justice? No, those books you dearly love come from the hands of doctors, scholars, kids who dare to study at the wrong mare’s school! Or maybe no one’s sure which side is which, and I’m required by my oath to kill anyone they say. At least this side, this ‘Moon’s Republic’ cares to some extent about the ponies.” As he drew a breath to continue on, his sister cast a binding spell and brought him to the floor. His legs snapped in together, and he lost his balance right away. He spit the dust out of his mouth. “I won’t fight you, Twily!” But she just tore his cloak and badge right off his chest. “And now,” she said, “we’ll see just how much they will care about a pony found without their marks.” She crouched behind a desk and kept a watch to keep her misled brother safe from harm. As soldiers flooded the town hall like waves of hornets in the woods, she loosed his legs and let him stand, but back again he fell. The leader of the little group had pushed him to the ground; when Shining Armor tried to speak his name, they wanted not a sound at all. They didn’t let him squirm or talk, no matter how he wanted to explain to them his role and job. Their captains knew, and if they were around, they’d give him drink and help him up and sing his praises loud. But now the butchers looming overhead had him in their charge. The leader grinned and raised his sword, and held it up aloft so Shining Armor’d see his fate and weep. He swung it down and hit the floor. His sword split clean in two as sparks and echoes bounced aimless ‘round the dim and empty room. Shining Armor screamed for fear and pain as the thing he expected never came. He looked around and met his sister’s eyes; he felt the twinge of magic in his ears. He looked away and gazed into the sands that peaceful and unbroken stretched away. Author's Note Written for the Quills and Sofas Lyrical Contest on 03/16/2024. The prompt for this story was to use a song's lyrics as inspiration, and I chose the demo of "No Longer You" from Epic: The Musical.
