Finally I have a chance to sit down at my work desk on the upper floor of my home. I remove my pith hat from my head and almost set it down right away. Along the way, though, I hesitate as I look upon it. When I see it and all the damage it has accumulated over all these years, it reminds me of the day it was first given to me. The day Tanon pushed it towards me but also told me not to wear it until I got serious about being an adventurer. In a way, this hat is a keystone in my life that helped to unlock a very significant turn in my life.

I pause as I admire it. This old, worn, beat up-looking hat. It certainly has character now and it wasn’t new even when I received it. I have no idea how long Tanon actually had this but it certainly seems like he was still wearing it in his old photos. I can’t be sure, though. When a hat is new, many of them look alike.

At last I put my hat down and pick up another object that completes my transformation into A.K. Yearling, and that is my glasses. These things aren’t for show either. I needed them to help me read and write up close quite a while ago. Such is the way that often happens to scholars.

The thing is, though, it’s interesting to me how I actually do feel like a different mare whenever I remove the hat and put on these glasses. I sense this internal transformation in me. Somepony who is calmer and more willing to settle. Somepony who has the patience to actually write a full-length novel.

It is such a relief to finally get that mission off my chest. I have been at it for moons now altogether. I have traveled back and forth to the ends of Equestria which eventually brought me to confront, and beat, the riddles of a Sphinx to get the answers I sought for the cure. When she finally gave the answer to me, she meant it as a cruel taunt. That I came all this way just to find out that the cure I sought was now extinct, but at least I established it once existed at all. The Sphinx was confused why the news didn’t decimate me that much, but she didn’t know I had access to allies that could help me travel through time. By the time I tipped my hat to her and thanked her for those answers, she used her reality bending magic to manifest a series of floating question marks around her tilting head as she continued to gaze down at me in confusion.

What followed next was a journey I could scarcely imagine. The landscape alone was breathtaking. What we accomplished there was epic, but what moves me the most is the companions I traveled with. That, more than anything, has transformed me.

Stern Wing was incredible. I hadn’t known a mare could be so strong both inwardly and outwardly. She has set the new benchmark for me in terms of what any mare is capable of at the upper end of our potential. She clearly cared for her companions dearly and she did all that she could to keep us safe. Effort certainly didn’t remotely scare her away from that pursuit.

It’s strange, to me, to think a mare that tall, broad, and powerful actually looked up to me. I remember the first time she asked me, in earnest, if I could teach her some of the stuff I knew. I hesitated the first time because the question was so unexpected and I wasn’t certain how gifted of a student she’d be, but I ultimately determined there was only one way to find out and I seemed to have plenty of time at the time.

As the lessons continued, I remember smiling at her proudly when I noticed how strongly she was paying attention. She repeated what I said until she was certain she got it right then put those words into practice with admirable persistence. It was clear to me that she was really determined to master these lessons and I knew why. She did it because she cared for others. These skills would only help her protect them better.

I can’t help but wonder how much more awesome she’ll one day be when she finally masters these lessons because she already started with an incredibly high baseline. If she mastered martial arts, for example, to the same degree that I do them then she’d easily cream me for sure because there is so much more oomph behind each of her punches and likewise her endurance is that much greater. When she told me that she was once a professional sportspony in some obscure sport called “Puffball”, I had no trouble believing her. She is definitely a solid example of what top-tier brawn ponies look like.

Over time, though, I steadily realized that she was more than a traveling companion or a friend. In time, she felt like a sister to me. Sometimes we finished each other's sentences or spoke at the same time. She often agreed with every point I made and for the same reasons. Now I know what “at the same wavelength” truly means. I remember when we flashed each other a smile because we both realized that.

Now Derpy, that incredibly adorable mail-mare, could very well match the definition of innocence. She was very much an adult but still had the spirit, and perhaps even intellect, as a foal. She laughed. She sang. She blew bubbles. It took me some time to realize that she was the heart of the party. The one who cheered us up whenever we felt down or enhanced our joy in an already fantastic moment. There were plenty of examples of the latter in a time and place that is true paradise.

I loved her cooking too, especially her muffins. We had to get innovative coming up with a method to bake them while in the wild but we did it. It was worth it. I’m not accustomed to having that kind of luxury while on an active adventure. Usually my philosophy during travel is eat to live, not the other way around. That said, my travels have introduced me to a lot of exotic foods out there and my naturally adventurous spirit compelled me to try them.

Still, it was nice to wake up to aromatic, warm, lovingly crafted breakfast in the morning. That gave me an extra reason to look forward to each day.

Now Doctor Kelly was interesting. She is to promoting good health as Stern Wing is to protection. The good doctor also did it on all levels. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.

She was incredibly professional and level headed. So much so that I grew shocked that she lost her cool even once. Usually she can keep herself emotionally distant enough to see the big picture calmly. Life is just a rapid scroll of letters and numbers to her. One she can read so fast that it is mind boggling. That is what a true genius looks like. One that might even rival the Doctor in her own way.

Intellectually, she was so engaging too! Multiple times I recall losing track of time as we spoke to each other across a vast array of topics. Both of us would point out all kinds of different perspectives and angles around what we were talking about. Enough to provoke a, “Huh. That’s interesting. I haven’t thought of it that way before!” response over and over again.

She made me realize how much I missed a good intellectual rival let alone one who was clearly superior, but she learned too. That’s what happens when a gifted mind takes her lessons seriously. She was never arrogantly dismissive with new information. Instead, she genuinely wished to learn and was willing to acknowledge her own potential ignorance on any subject. She broke down every argument into its individual components and explored each layer one by one. Very much an evidence-based kind of mare.

Then finally there was Feather Wind. “Gifted” seems like an insufficient word for such an incredible stallion and it was amazing, adorable, and sometimes concerning how humble he was about it.

For instance, just before we climbed the tall mountain in pursuit of the Ice Blue Lilly, the group encouraged him to read off one of his latest poems. It actually took a lot of coaxing to eventually convince him to do that. When he did, I remember how he tried to hide his face behind his floating scroll because of how afraid he was for us to see his reaction and vice versa. In the beginning, we had to repeat several times for him to speak up. To my credit, I succeeded to restrain my giggle at his reaction. Derpy had failed that same test.

But, once he finally really got going and he was absorbed in every word and syllable he spoke, the rest of the camp grew into dead silence out of stunned awe. Only Stern Wing wasn’t caught off guard by this because she was accustomed to the quality of his work a long time ago. I even remember her flashing the rest of us a smug-looking smirk because it amused her to see the rest of our reaction while at the same time knowing what we were in for.

I couldn’t believe that a stallion with that much talent could also be shy and lack confidence in his work. It seemed like he truly didn’t know how good he was. That was adorable in a way, but I still can’t easily swallow that fact.

When he was done, I recall him actually cringing as if he expected criticism or laughter. Before we even had a chance to rebuke his fears, he already gave us an excuse to justify the “low” quality of his work. He kept mentioning that this was just a first draft and he promised he’ll get better in the future.

I remember how the expression on his face, when he finished, begged us to go easy on him as if he was expecting that that would be a difficult task. At that moment, I almost failed my impulse to resist hugging him, but Derpy ended up doing it in my stead.

It seemed Derpy was easily swept up in any and all of her emotions.

Meanwhile my mind was numb for a while as it struggled to process all of my thoughts and feelings because of what I just heard.

I just barely caught Derpy explaining to Feather that she probably didn’t understand even a tenth of what he said yet she loved it anyway. To her, it was like listening to a foreign language being sung with unearthly beauty. That he spoke each word with such unbelievable passion that that alone moved her to tears.

I remember the surprise and delight steadily lighting up in his eyes as he absorbed each compliment. The word, “Really?!” was what he repeated multiple times as if he had a very hard time accepting what we were saying. Eventually he was moved to tears and he could barely express to the rest of us how grateful he was that we loved his work. It meant so much to him.

I really need to buy more of his books on poems in my time. That is definitely on my to-do list now. I can’t help but wonder, at this point, if any of his work might be designed to give a subtle wink to me specifically as his way of thanks and acknowledgment for all that I provided in his life.

Like that time I approached him as he sat at the edge of the cliff of the spot we took a break for the day after long hours of climbing. Since he was isolated from the rest of the group, I wanted to check on him to see if he was still okay.

What he was doing was gazing up at the cloud formations with wonder which was made even more spectacular because of the visible river of light above. That, in turn, made the clouds glow various shifting colors.

When I got his attention, my expression wordlessly asked him if he was alright. Feather was, at first, confused at my concern for him but he managed to figure it out when he looked over his shoulder with his bright yellow eyes at the others who all gathered away from him and eagerly waiting for Derpy’s cooking to finish.

I’ll never forget the way he looked back up at me with this gentle and beaming smile that assured me that he was more than fine in that moment. He was happy! Radiantly so. Staring at clouds was enough to light up the soul of this humble pony.

Looking down at him, I remember my fond smile as I marveled how such a tiny body like his managed to contain a soul of such incredible depth.

I ended up just sitting beside him and draping a wing across his back which he wordlessly accepted gratefully. Together we watched this gorgeous landscape full of broken clouds that created crawling shadows and shimmering light to gradually scroll across the land. It reminded me of what it was like to observe shimmering columns of light from under the ocean on a bright sunny day.

I sniff as I open my teary eyes back in the present. I think I have underestimated how profoundly my new group of friends meant to me. That bond stirs such rich emotion inwardly.

I have to write this down!

But now that I have settled to this point, I pull out my new Phoenix Quill and pause to admire that. In doing so, the spirit of my recent adventures floods back to my mind and heart again. I also feel the echo of earlier adventures too, like when I first received another quill that looked almost like this. It really stung when I lost it back then because it was a symbol of a bond I made with another grateful creature. Every time I held it, it felt like a reminder of the importance of my journeys. That, in turn, helped to solidify and reinforce the important decisions I made in my life.

This one feels especially poignant to me, though, because, in a way, it brings me full circle back to where I began. I remember when I used to still live in Manehatten and thought I would never be anything other than a scholar. A mare who merely admires adventures and adventurers from a distance, but then the Doctor came waltzing into my life and virtually opened those TARDIS doors for the first time. Beyond it lay adventure to the degree that I never could have imagined before. Some harsh but important lessons I learned back then. Of those, I think the most important one I learned was who I really am deep down. I didn’t realize it at first, but I was born for adventures like these! Ever since then, it’s been one grand and epic journey after another.

My writing career was another story. It almost felt like this whole other book in my life, not merely a different chapter. When I became committed to writing my adventures down, I fictionalized it to some extent. I didn’t do that as much in the beginning but I soon came to realize what the consequences can be if I gave the real coordinates to lost temples. Some may explore them out of casual curiosity and find out that the traps I wrote about in my books are all too real. I don’t want to even think about how many ponies I might have accidentally led to their deaths.

But the consequences of success can be just as severe. If those ponies got a hold of the treasure that the traps were set to guard, they might be wielding powers that they do not understand. Whether they are innocent fools or a cunning evil genius, either way, they are the wrong hooves to wield such powers. I did not choose to write about these adventures to put the world in greater mortal peril. Instead, I meant to inspire. To educate. To get ponies to at least think beyond their comfort zones. Beyond the everyday natural routines in our lives.

Not that there is anything necessarily wrong with that, especially if those routines follow their cutie marks. To do so means promoting and doing more of who that pony really is. There is such a warm and fuzzy feeling that naturally goes along with fulfilling one’s true purpose that is in alignment with one’s destiny. It’s so satisfying.

At the same time, though, I’d like to shine a light in order to bring awareness that there is a wider and more grand world out there and it’s full of wonders for the intrepid. Whenever a pony reads my books, I absolutely welcome them to imagine themselves in my place. That way they can get at least a taste of my adventures. To feel the mugginess of the deep jungle. To feel that shifting weight as they swing on a jungle vine. To feel the adrenaline and thrill that comes along with diving down and watch individual droplets of a waterfall follow alongside. To know what it is like to tumble through a closing door then realize, with a brief flare of panic, that they accidentally left their precious hat in the last room. At that point they reach beyond the threshold of that closing door and yoink it back just in time to avoid their foreleg from being crushed.

I really do feel like I’m doing something important for the world and it isn’t just what I accomplish in the adventures themselves. It is also to bring those adventures closer to home and that, in turn, offers my readers a new perspective.

I also recall that my journey as an author didn’t start out that well. There are plenty of publishers who turned me down, and even the ones who did say maybe, did so on the condition that I make certain changes, but I can’t do that. They didn’t know that I actually have experienced what I wrote on those pages so there are limits to how far I’m willing to edit it.

Sure, I might change the name of the temple, the name of the location it is at, and I certainly change some of the names of the ponies I encountered in my journey for the sake of protecting their personal privacy.

There are some exceptions here and there, especially if the pony I encountered happened to be a celebrity of some kind. For instance, whenever Princess Celestia or Princess Luna get involved, I think my readers would be downright insulted if I changed their names while still making it perfectly clear whom I am talking about.

In the end, it turned out I had to self-publish. That was scary for me because that was a lot of personal financial investment, especially during some of my earlier adventures when I didn’t win too much treasure that I was willing to spare. Eventually, though, I gathered enough funds. I published the books at my own cost but I also did it on my own terms. That kept the stories pure. Almost sacred. Considering the fact that they actually happened, I ultimately felt that was the only right way to get those stories out there.

At first it was a disaster. I got very little return on my investment. I gambled and basically lost, but I tried to console myself back then by reminding myself that the few who did buy and read those books might have been affected potentially profoundly. That’s basically how I got started too. I was inspired by the works of others as well as stories from my own grandfather.

I suspect any serious author out there knows my pain. It’s so scary to offer something that feels so personally precious out into the world then endure even the mere possibility that it could get rejected. Far worse if it actually is rejected or it gets infamous instead of famous.

None of my works ever suffered a fate that bad, though, until my works started to get more popular. Only after I started to make a name for myself is when the critics also started to show up. That stung at first, but I soon realized that being a famous writer takes a thick hide to endure. I eventually learned that accepting the criticism is actually a major sign of success. At least my stories made enough of an impact for some to complain about it. No pony would actually make that much effort if they didn’t truly care on some level.

Of course, it’s an even better sign that the majority of my readers praise it. That helps to remind me that most of my kind really are friendly deep down. Sometimes that trait isn’t even that deep.

In time, I eventually developed a routine of my own even as my skills continued to get refined both as an adventurer and as an authoress. It took a lot of baby steps to get this good and sometimes some giant leaps too. I’d even say I have more than my fair share of the latter because I tend to live my life at the edge of extremes. In a way, that has become my new comfort zone.

I pause to admire the quill in my hoof as I twist it back and forth. The light of my candle on my desk reflects off this crimson feather with a prismatic sheen. As I look upon this, I internally reflect on how this very much is a symbolic representation of my internal growth as a pony. Many times I have died and been reborn in my life. Each time I rise from the ashes stronger and stronger.

I grin as I think about that. I recall when I told Stern Wing that I am a fire-element pony. She’s probably right that I’m earth too so I guess lava really is a better fit. It doesn’t quite have the same poetic ring to it, though.

I slowly close my eyes as I internally reminisce on my past adventures. I had already written a lot of it down in my diary whenever I had the chance, but now I take the time to reflect on the feeling of those special moments. Each one is very precious nourishment to my soul. It causes me to grow, get old, die, then get reborn again as I gloriously rise from the ashes.

I am so glad to be alive! I am so glad to be part of this precious world. I am so glad to journey through it and share what I can.

I am the Guide. I am the Map Maker. I am the Compass. I am the Navigator. I stood on the threshold of many new horizons over and over again. I can’t wait to find out what I’ll explore next!

But, for now, it’s time to take a little break. To sort of decompress, as it were. These moments are important too to help me prepare for the next as well as create greater value out of my experiences.

In the past, once my pen got going, it tended to flow non-stop. I then develop a rhythm. I sink into the zone. It’s almost like a trance.

On the other hoof, it’s the beginning I tend to have trouble with. The fact that I already lived through these adventures helps, but there is still a great responsibility to exactly how I describe the beginning. After all, if I lose my readers at that point with a bad description, it doesn’t matter how great the rest of my work is. I’ve already lost them. Because of that, I’ve learned it’s very important to hook them right away, and for that, I have to give the beginning a little extra thought. I have to figure out how I can give it a creative and poetic spin on it while still being mostly honest.

As usual, though, my internal compass serves as a natural guide. Whenever I examine it for inspiration, I often find it nudges me in some way. It could be a word. A whole sentence. Sometimes it’s just an image or a feeling. Whatever it is, I feel a charge of emotion behind it. It’s sort of like it’s saying, “Try saying this! Trust me. It’ll work.” Then I feel my internal compass kind of winking at me.

This moment is no exception. I smile brightly as inspiration strikes me. When that happens, I finally feel ready to begin.

Until I suffer a knock on my front door. By the sounds of it, it’s rather urgent, in fact.

I grunt in annoyance at this interruption. I really hate moments like this just when I was starting to sync into the flow. At least these ponies, whoever they are, are knocking at all instead of barging into my place and trashing it in search of some ancient artifact I happened to procure, or at least they think I have. That’s happened before and those moments are far more annoying.

But no. That’s not what is happening right now. Instead, these ponies actually want my attention and that’s already a hint that he, she, or they probably aren’t hostile. I can’t be too sure, though, because I met plenty of villains in my life. Just because they want my attention doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be on guard against potential deception.

The knocking at my front door remains persistent and urgent. The closer I get to it, the more it concerns me. At first I could have dismissed it as forceful on the possibility that he, she, or they is merely trying to get my attention, but doing hard and continuous knocks is more indicative of a pony trying to warn me that my house is on fire!

I can see, along the way, that my house isn’t in that much of an urgent state, although it does feel a bit neglected lately.

Still, whomever this is, I am quickly growing more certain that this is very urgent.

My heart races just before I open the door. I am used to having my adrenaline pump, but sometimes what seems to be an urgent situation turns out to be nothing but bad news. I can help if a problem is occurring now or will soon, but it breaks my heart if I hear I’m already too late to help somepony. I really hope it’s not the latter.

Without further adieu, I open the door then wince when the hoof that was knocking on the door almost knocks on me!

“Hey! Watch it!” I complain as I wince strongly. “You almost knocked on me!”

“Oh! Sorry, luv. Ah didn’t know you wuz coming till ya opened the door,” apologizes and explains a pretty tall, broad, and somewhat handsome brown stallion with deeper brown hooves which kind of remind me of Stern Wing. He’s got a dark purple mane and tail, though. He’s also wearing a white dress shirt that is splayed open a bit since he isn’t using the top three buttons. On his head, he wears a brown hat that has a band of what appears to be teeth on it.

It turns out I have two guests after all. The one standing beside him is shorter than the stallion and she doesn’t nearly have his girth. She’s quite skinny and most of her height is in her legs. She has a peach-pink hide and platinum blonde streamed gold mane/tail. Like the stallion beside her, this pegasus mare is also wearing a shirt, but hers is green this time and, unlike the stallion, it is buttoned fully up nicely. She also has a band in the middle of her mane which wraps it into a single ponytail.

I wince at these two as my face assumes a discerning look behind my glasses because I recognize them, but I can’t put my hoof on where or when, or who they are. I suspect I never met them before personally, but I must have seen them at some point. A newspaper article, maybe?

In an attempt to help me figure this out, I size them both up with a carefully appraising eye. Doing so does not jog my memory of them per se, but it does suggest to me that not only are they fellow adventuring ponies like me, but they are very good ones as well.

After being in this profession for as long as I have, I’ve been able to pick up a thing or two that true professionals tend to have. For instance, they don’t brag or come off as too showy as if to compensate for something. That was a red flag I overlooked with Doctor Caballeron in my youthful and innocently naive days.

In contrast, true professionals have a certain bearing and poise about them that their years of experience and confidence would make it difficult to hide. It just naturally happens over time.

For instance, they stand ready for action at any moment’s notice and there are subtle ways they show it like their ears flick about on occasion as they are in the habit of regularly checking for danger. They typically wear subdued colors that may not be too pleasing to the eye, but they are practical and durable. Even their gear can often show signs of wear and tear, too, yet still hold up remarkably well.

The peach-pink mare places her hoof to her dark green shirt as she expresses, “We’re very sorry for disturbing you and your privacy, Miss Yearling.”

“But we’re also rightly glahd that yar’re still in ‘ere,” the stallion expresses more brightly. “Cuz we could really use your ‘elp.”

“Before we go on,” continues the mare, “I think it would only be proper of us if we both introduce ourselves.”

“An’ rightly so, I might add,” agrees the stallion as he pulls his hat to his chest. “Mah name is Snap Shutter and this here is mah lovely wife, Miss Mane Allgood.”

“Snap Shutter and Mane Allgood?” I echo questioningly then I rub the bottom of my chin. That sounds familiar too, but I still can’t put my hoof on it. This is getting both frustrating and embarrassing because obviously they are well aware of me. I wish I could return the favor in equal measure.

“Ya heard of us?” Snap asks with rising delight as he places his hat back on his head.

“I . . . I think so, but I can’t put my hoof on where or when,” I explain with a slight blush of embarrassment.

“Well, that’s okay,” Mane says good-naturedly as she waves a hoof off at me. “I already knew that the two of us aren’t as famous as you, Miss Yearling.” Suddenly her expression sinks into devious cunning. “Or, as you are better known in the social circles that we hang out with, would you prefer us to call you Daring Do?”

My eyes widen in shock at them. Surprisingly, I haven’t met many ponies who caught on to my secret. I have Daring Do’s salt and pepper mane and tail and still most ponies don’t catch on. Simply wearing glasses or a hood can be surprisingly effective among my race.

But, once in a while, I do encounter others who catch on to my secret and it always catches me off guard because it has alarming implications. If they know, then what will they do with that secret? Are they here to blackmail me? Will they try to threaten my friends and family?!

My initial impression of them is they actually do seem like a pair of decent-hearted ponies. I doubt they are here to hurt me in any way but I can never be too careful. After all, I know a lot of dangerous secrets and sometimes have dangerous artifacts in my possession. In short, there really are reasons for other ponies to go after me so I need to remain on my guard just in case it’s one of the bad reasons.

“Crackin good ol’ books ya write, bah the way!” Snap compliments me with a bright and grateful expression. “Good on ya for actually putting our profession in a positive light.” He points at me. “Sometimes we encount’eh others who either misunderstand what we do or seek to exploi’ us, but not you, Miss Do. Ya set the record straight an’ ya got mah respect for that. Ya give us adventurers a good name for a change and Ah, for one, deeply appreciate it.”

“In fact,” Mane says as she transfers her look from her husband to me, “that’s kind of why we’re here.” She looks behind her and uses her left wing to reach for something behind her. She then faces forward again and passes me two photographs using that same wing. “Here. Please take a look at these photographs, Miss Do.”

Curious but still feeling on guard, I reach my right wing forward to accept the photographs then look upon them. What I see is one colt and one stallion that definitely look related. Other than the age, they seem downright identical since they both have white hides with a mint green patch over the left eye. Both of them have yellow manes and the manestyle is identical too.

I look taken aback by these images then raise an eyebrow at Miss Mane as I ask, “So? What are these photos supposed to prove?”

“These two photographs are actually of the same pony,” Miss Mane tells me. “And believe it or not, the one with the colt was taken only four moons ago!”

I widen my eyes in shock at her as I repeat incredulously, “Four moons ago?! There’s no way that can be correct! The stallion in this picture is clearly much older than that.”

“Unfortunately, it is all too true,” Snap assures sadly and grimly. “Tha’ colt’s name is Olive Branch an’ we encount’ehed ‘is parents not but one moon ago. They gave us the grim news that their son is afflicted with a magical curse! A curse that is aging him faster and faster!”

“Sweet Celestia!” I exclaim in shock.

Mane nods sadly as she says, “Our reaction was much the same. They also asked us for help because we’re the best in the business at what we do, and what we do is track down rare and exotic creatures. Sometimes dangerous ones, too.”

“As to that,” continues Miss Allgood’s husband, “we ‘eard tell of the bunicorn, a mystical two-horned rabbit that is ultra rare. One little flake of their cartilages is said to be a key ingredient to breaking pretty much any curse.”

“The problem is that all of our research came to the conclusion that the only possible location of the bunicorn might be the Lost Valley of the Toka’Raz,” resumes Miss Allgood. She cuts a right wing across the air in front of her. “And no pony knows where that valley is except for maybe one pony.”

“‘an it’s a pony that not many even realize is real,” Snap continues. “The legendary adventurer and dungeon explorer, Miss Daring Do.”

“I see,” I express in a tone of realization since I’m beginning to piece all of this together.

Miss Allgood applies both of her two wings together in a begging expression as she pleads, “So we have come to you for help, Miss Do. Please disclose to us the location of the Lost Valley of Toka’Raz.”

“We’ll even pay ya for that information,” Snap adds.

I shake my head then tell them, “You two might not know what you’re getting into. I never seen a bunicorn before but I heard they are very skittish and otherwise pretty harmless. However,” I push a raised wing towards them, “there are other things in that Valley that are far more terrifying. If I give you the coordinates to that Valley then I may very well be sending you two to your deaths.”

“Believe us, Miss Do, we’re used to dane’jah,” Snap assures confidently. “For we are the bes’ at what we do.”

“That’s not my only concern,” I express. “There are other things in that Valley as well. Things that will tempt you, for that Valley also hides an ancient and very sinister evil. It doesn’t look like it now, but that Valley used to hide one of the greatest dangers that this world has ever known. It can see into your heart and it knows what could lure you.”

“So you have been there,” Miss Mane says with a smile. “That’s good. At least somepony knows the way to that Valley.”

“You don’t haffta worry about us,” Snap assures. “We already know where our greatest treasure lies. She,” he tilts his head to his wife while still regarding me, “already gave birth to her quite some time ago, an’ we been lookin’ forward to reuniting wit’ ‘er ev’ah since.”

“Do you have any foals of your own, Miss Do?” Miss Allgood asks which catches me off guard.

“Um . . . that’s a pretty personal question,” I complain slightly. “But I don’t see the harm in answering. The answer is no. I do not know that joy yet.” I then shake my head. “My career often draws me to very dangerous places so I have no time to raise a foal of my own.” I blush shyly as I add, “And besides, I guess I haven’t met the right stallion yet.”

I glance inside my house at a chest where I hide a picture of my family before looking back at them and I say, “Moreover, I remember how hard that was with my mother and her father. He was a legendary adventurer and she . . . Well. She was the one basically left behind and worrying about whether she’ll ever see her father again.” I shake my head. “I don’t think I’d have the heart to put my own would-be foal through that.”

What I said seems to have struck a nerve between these two. A very pained and guilty expression clouds their faces as they glance at each other then they both look down sadly.

“I can well understand your feelings in this regard, Miss Do,” Miss Allgood assures. “For we do have a foal of our own and it tears us apart to be apart from her every single day.”

“‘er name is Scootaloo an’ we left ‘er in Ponyville under the care of whomever is kind enough to help raise ‘er,” Snap Shutter adds sadly then cheers up a bit as he goes on to say, “Good’ news is she does ‘ave lots of friends ow there tah look af’tah ‘er from time to time. Even me ol’ sister an’ ‘er wife checks in on tha’ we ol’ bugg’ah from time to time, for which we are eternally grateful.”

“Of course we’d much rather be there ourselves, but nopony else can do what we do,” continues Miss Allgood. “And this mission is especially urgent!” She shakes her head. “There is no way we can face our daughter again with a clear conscience by going to her now while also knowing that doing so will also cost some other foal his life as it is quickly stripped away. There is no way we can possibly be that cruel so we have to do whatever we can to help.”

I am deeply touched to hear that. In my heart, part of me feels like smiling upon receiving yet another reminder that not only are there other very competent adventurers out there but some of them also have the heart of gold too. Seeing that makes me feel that I am not so alone after all.

“We know ya ain’t to keen on let’in others join ya in any of ye ol’ adventures,” Snap Shutter announces seriously. “An’ we ain’t asking fo’ that.” He shakes his head. “All we want is the coordinates to the Lost Valley.” He stands erectly in a dutiful pose and expression. “Af’tah that, ya juz leave the res’ on us.”

“Please, Miss Do! Look at those photographs again!” Miss Allgood begs. I do so. “That foal is suffering right now! So is his family. I can’t even bear to think of the pain that I would be enduring if this was happening to our daughter. In good conscience, we feel that we must do whatever we can to help, even if it brings us towards further danger. That’s just the risks we have to accept with this kind of lifestyle.”

As I stare at the two photographs of the cursed colt, I quickly realize how insulted I feel that they think I am so pig-headed in rejecting all other compony that I’d even let a colt die horrifically just to maintain that stance. I understand why they think I have that reputation because that recently was my stance when it comes to accepting others, but Sweet Celestia! They are making me sound like a heartless monster.

I close my eyes, sigh, then open them again with firm resolve as I pass the photographs back with my wing and say, “I made myself clear. I will not tell you the coordinates to the Lost Valley.” I take a moment to absorb their shock before I go on to say, “Instead, I’ll do something better.” My face twists into a daring expression as I slap my pith helmet on my head. “I’ll escort you to the Lost Valley myself!”

Their horror at my initial announcement shifts to shock when I tell them that I’ll escort them personally. They glance at each other long enough to notice that their partner feels the same way before looking back at me.

“Ya don’t haff’tah do that,” says Shutter. “I already told ya . . . we can hoofle this ourselves an’ we ain’t gonna inconvenience ya anymore than we already have.” He nods with a serious expression. “This ‘ere is our fight. We’re the ones who will hoofle it.”

“And I already told you that there are greater dangers in that Valley other than that which you seek,” I remind them. “If I go, your chances of surviving the trip will be that much greater which also means it increases the odds of success for that foal. Now that you told me what is at stake,” I shake my head, “I won’t be able to sleep either without knowing if anything is done to help cure him. Besides, I know something else that hides in that Valley and I want to personally make sure that both of you don’t fall for its temptations. Believe me, it’s a lot harder than it sounds.”

I notice the two of them glance at each other except this time it is with rising hope and delight. What I am offering is way better than they initially bargained for.

“Are you sure, Miss Do?” Miss Mane checks as she looks back at me.

“I am sure,” I assure as I nod at them confidently. “And I also want to thank you two.”

“For what?” Snap Shutter asks, taken aback.

“For tipping me off to this important mission,” I tell them. “Because you’re right. Now that I have heard of this, I can’t ignore this.” I then smile at them warmly as I go on to say, “And I also want to thank you two for another reminder that there are other good hearted adventurers out there, like me and those I recently met, who bravely venture out there to fight the good fight.” I tip my hat to them. “It shall be my pleasure to travel with you two.”

“Well hot diggity dang!” Snap Shutter cheers so ecstatically that he actually hops in the air and clicks his rear hooves in the brief moment they are off the ground. “If ya’er sure, Miss Do, then it will be our pleasure to work with ya! Heck yeah! I’m even lookin’ forward to it and seeing anoth’ah true professional at work.” Still giving a goofy grin due to his intense cheer, he tilts his head to the side as he asks, “Got a question for ya though, mate. Does this mean the two of us are going to be in ya’re next book?”

“You’ll know that when I publish it,” I answer back. “In the meantime, let’s get to writing it. Another day . . .”
“. . . another dungeon!” the two adults before me cheer in unison.

Author's Note

Well that concludes another arc. Back to back arcs that both have Daring Do. Both of these are also, by far, the longest arcs in the story. They could almost be their own novels.

This chapter also mirrors the last arc in another interesting way. In the last arc, it was first person until its final chapter where, all of the sudden, we see things more from Ahuizotl's third person perspective. With this arc, though, that pattern is reversed because Daring's no longer the main character but a fellow participant in it. That is, until this last chapter where it suddenly switches to first person again so the reader can be more fully immersed in Daring's thoughts and what she learned throughout this arc.

For her, though, things are winding down now. She'll have a lingering presence in the story in various ways going forward, but not to this degree. At least not for the foreseeable future.

Something that strikes me about writing for her in these stories is her depth, growth and maturity actually exceeds the show canon from what I can see. So, in a way, she's actually out of character here but in the best way. I don't see a serious problem with taking an existing idea and using it as a springboard to make it something better. All of this means, in a subtle but also meaningful way, it makes this story an alternate universe sort of angle. I drove for show canon authenticity for the most part and even mentioned that as a mission statement in the long description of this story. This, however, is a small but important exception.

In the first arc, during her first adventure as Agate Keystone, that story is long enough to be a full character arc in terms of an origin story. In this one, that growth continues by more fully revealing what she has learned compared to the last arc and during this one. That gives her an inner strength that I admire. She's way more than a cartoon action adventurer now for little kids.

I hope you all see this as a good send off for her. Coming back where she started, only now willing to acknowledge and accept the "compony" of other adventurers whose hearts are also in the right place.

Wherever your adventures take you next, Miss Do, we love you and wish you all the best.

With all that being said, the adventure goes on.