My whole life nopony believed me whenever I said that all pony kinds were supposed to be friends. That’s what everyone around town says if you ask them about it. They’re not entirely right.
My dad, Arygle Sunshine, he knew the truth. He knew that Earth Ponies, Unicorns and Pegasi used to be friends, and could be again. He knew all about the past, of ancient Equestria and the tales of Princess Twilight Sparkle and the guardians of friendship. He tried to tell the others in Maretime Bay, but I was the only one who would listen. No one else would, not Phyllis, with the influence and resources of Canterlogic behind her to more effectively spread the truth. Not Sprout, who could sway others quite easily when he wanted to if he wasn’t being lazy. Not even Hitch, my best friend who had the respect of the town.
But then one day out of the blue, a Unicorn showed up in Maretime Bay. Her name was Izzy Moonbow, and she had come to town looking for new friends, friends promised by a note attached to a lantern my dad and I had sent out years ago. When Izzy showed up I had practically forgotten about that lantern, but there she was, brought to my home town by a message I had sent out when I was just a filly.
At the time everyone except me panicked at the sight of her, but with the benefit of hindsight everyone agreed that she was just looking around curiously and bore no sign of ill intent. She was the first sign that I had been right all along and the Cloverleafs had been wrong. And then when we brought back magic everyone agreed, I had been right. That’s the story everyone knows.
But that’s not the whole story. There’s one key player no one knows about. Hitch might not have believed me until Izzy came to town, but he wasn’t my only friend back then. There was another friend who did believe me, who would happily listen while I recanted the tales of ancient Equestria my dad told me about Dragons and Griffins and Hippogriffs and other creatures. A friend who would chat with me about the historical documents and artefacts my father discovered over the course of his life, theorising just how old some of them might have been. My friend, named Jazz.
Jazz Hooves. Most ponies knew her as the hoof stylist and music loving mare who often kept her ears hidden inside her puffy mane, but I knew her as one of the few ponies who didn’t look at me like I had contracted a disease. She wouldn’t talk to me in public, that would have completely ruined her reputation, but she came to the lighthouse often to talk. I’ll never forget the first time we spoke, I was laying under a tree reading when a shadow fell over me.
“Mind if I join you?” A voice asked, and I looked up to see Jazz standing there.
“Sure,” I replied, not really caring. She laid down beside me, while I kept reading my book. She didn’t say a word, but I felt her eyes on me. I glanced up to see that she was indeed staring at me. “You’re staring.” I pointed out before going back to my book.
“Sorry, it’s just… I don’t get you, Starscout.” She explained.
I looked up again. Starscout. Next to no one gave me the decency of referring to me by my first name, and even when they referred to me by my last name there was an unmistakable tone of disrespect in their voice. That tone was nowhere to be heard in Jazz’s voice.
“What do you mean ‘I don’t get you’?” I asked, curious of her intentions.
“I mean, you say there’s no reason to fear the Unicorns and Pegasi. Why?” She answered.
“My dad told me all pony kind used to be friends, and can be again.” I simply responded.
“Okay, but how do you know your father is right?” She asked.
“How can you be sure that Phyllis is right?” I responded.
“I never said she was,” Jazz pointed out. “And that’s not my point. My point is what if your father is wrong?”
I raised my eyebrow. I had never met a pony who hadn’t just outright dismissed my father as wrong before, not even Hitch.
“Go on.” I said.
“Your father might be right, but if he isn’t, then he and you will have made yourselves social outcasts for nothing.” She explained.
Her statement gave me pause. I had never thought about it like that. I’d never believed a word from the likes of Phyllis, she just rudely dismissed the beliefs of me and my father without listening to reason. So I dismissed her the same way. But Jazz wasn’t dismissing my father’s claims, she was simply asking me what I thought would happen if it turned out my father was wrong. Of course, I knew he wasn’t. I knew how much work he had put into researching ancient Equestria. There was actual proof that my dad was right about the different pony kinds being friends once. But the town’s ponies dismissed it as forged artefacts and documents my dad made to try and prove he was right. Still, Jazz’s neural stance on the matter was refreshing.
“My dad isn’t wrong.” I assured her.
“But if he isn’t right?” She asked.
“And if he is right?” I asked her.
Jazz paused for a moment to think about it. “Then you get to say to the whole town ‘I told you so’?” She suggested.
I laughed. “Oh, as fun as that would sound, I’m not that kind of pony.”
Jazz didn’t find it funny. “I’m serious. You can’t keep this up if it means you’ll make an enemy out of the whole town.”
“If that was going to happen, it would have by now.” I reassured her. “I’ll be fine.”
Jazz didn’t look entirely convinced. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“You know, it’s nice to have someone to talk to who won’t just dismiss what I say for a change.” I commented.
“Maybe we should do this more often?” She suggested.
“Yeah. Maybe we should.”
And we did. Sometimes she would come to the lighthouse to see the stuff my dad had collected over the years, sometimes we would just hang out and talk. Eventually she stopped calling me Starscout and started calling me Sunny. I was disappointed she didn’t get to come on the journey to restore magic, but she told me afterwards it was probably for the better that Hitch went. He didn’t believe me about the other pony kinds, but he did trust me as a friend, and the journey did allow him to come around to my way of thinking, so I could see her point.
Today we were meeting up for old times sake, under the very same tree where we first talked. And since I was running late, I decided to fly there with my Alicorn powers. Jazz was already there when I arrived, eating a bunch of grapes she had evidently just grown with her plant magic.
“I guess that’s one way to travel.” She commented as I touched down.
“Hey,” I greeted, before looking back over Maretime Bay. “A lot’s changed around here, hasn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” she said as she started chewing on another grape. “You got me a job, for one thing.”
I turned back to look at her. She wasn’t wrong. When Pipp mentioned she was looking for a stylist to work at Mane Melody, I recommended Jazz, saying that she had styled my mane once and done a brilliant job. In actuality she had styled my mane and hooves more times than I could count.
“That wasn’t exactly what I meant…” I clarified.
“Then what did you mean?” She asked as she finished chewing.
I stared down at my hooves. “Do you remember when you were the only one who believed me?”
“Of course I do. Why?” She responded.
“Do you remember how lonely I was back then?” I asked.
It was a sad truth. While the town’s ponies never hated me as Jazz feared they might, I was an outcast. Jazz and Hitch were my only friends and I lived in a lighthouse that was on the opposite gulf on the bay to the rest of the town. It wasn’t until my social circle expanded that I realised just how lonely my life was before.
“But you’re not lonely now,” Jazz pointed out. “You’ve still got Hitch and I, and now also the rest of your friends. Izzy, Zipp, Pipp, Misty. You brought magic back. And everypony loves you now. Sure, you may have been an outcast back then, but it more than payed off in the long term, didn’t it?”
I found myself smiling. “Fair point.”
Jazz smiled back. “There’s the Sunny I know.” Then an idea seemed to occur to her. “Think fast.” She took a grape. I opened my mouth and caught it, chewing on it.
“Good catch.” Jazz complemented.
We both started laughing. Jazz was right. Things had changed for the better, and I was forever grateful for it.
