Mirror: Book I - Mind

The boy stood atop a hill and atop this hill was the beginning of a wide, spacious valley, which he took a good, long look down into. In the valley there was a village. Not a winding, muddy maze of plank brown buildings, neither a small bundle of huts with towering chimneys of smoke on the country side. It was just the right sized town for just the right sized people, and these people were ponies.

Ponies, for the most part, walk on all the hooves they were given, which for the most part is four. But a pony does not care how many hooves they were given, they only care about what they can create with them. And if it is said that Ponyville was built by a single pair of hooves alone, how many more hooves need they ask for? Well the other two to walk on, of course. Their wits lie in the earth, the sky, and the magic that surrounds their daily lives. Earth ponies possess an innate sense of talking with their greens, instinctively knowing what to plant, where to plant it, and when. And if it weren’t for their fellow pegasi who brought the spells of rain to their crop, pastry parties and sweet celebrations would never see the light of day. And if it weren’t for the unicorns and their…ah, what do the unicorns do again? Ah, yes! They dictate the lives of others and write the stories they read.

Some say the sharpest part of a pony isn’t the whistling of a pegasus’ wings, nor the point of a unicorn’s horn, but it lies upon their tongues and within their eyes. They possess an erratic sense of discerning between friendly and, well, not so friendly, to which they often favor the former just like any sensible folk. However, for this reason they can sometimes be overly cautious and take to secluding themselves to their stable indoors, yanking the welcome mat right in along with them. If there is one thing a pony will not trouble themselves with, it is the unknown, the unheard of, the truly esoteric. Taboo. They speak of this ilk, among other things, day in and day out as they seemed to have determined that maintaining a perfect, peaceful life is just as important as living one.

Of course, there are ponies who look the other way and head in that direction. The ponies who are thrown into wonder and adventure whether it be their own volition or not. They are the unknown, the unheard of, the esoteric. Rumors straw about this way and that like wild fire in the wind. An esoteric, living here in Ponyville? Could it be true? There is the old saying, spread all across this land and country the ponies call Equestria. If you don’t let adventure into your life, it’ll come barging through your door at any given moment.

…

The doors to the library remained silent and shut. Then, they abruptly burst open.

“Spike~!” The unicorn called. “Spike, are you around?”

She slowed her trot to an even pace as her hooves clopped upon the midnight blue, crystalline surface that was the library floors. A grand athenaeum reminiscent of an obsessed librarian’s wet dream laid before the unicorn. Sun shined through an angled ceiling light onto a lone lectern of mahogany, the velvet-red carpet forked into several labyrinths of golden lined bookshelves reaching at least ten ponies high. Spike, the attendant in question, was only half a pony high.

“I’m right here, Starlight.” Spike called from above.

Starlight watched as the munchkin dragon wrapped one claw around the rolling ladder and snugged a large book beneath his free arm. He kicked off the wall with his stubby legs, rode along the bookshelf’s length while sliding down with the grip of his claw. The ladder met its end, carrying Spike’s momentum forward where he in turn slid the large book beneath his feet and boarded across the carpet to meet his unicorn friend, inches away from her presence. “Ta-da~!” He lifted his purple claws. “I’ve been practicing all morning.”

Starlight was prepared to applaud, but then Spike vomited. Not any ordinary vomit, but rather from the pit of his stomach a fiery green belch rose to the air, materializing into a magical scroll bound by a red ribbon and a golden seal. The little dragon wavered and fell onto his back in an exhausted heap, and the unicorn took the scroll in question using her levitation.

“A letter?” Starlight supposed.

“Huh, whuzzat?” Spike groaned. “From the Princess? Why would she send something at a time like this?”

“Never mind it, it’s obviously meant for Twilight.”

“Don’t you think we should tell her about it?” Spike stood, clutching his stomach.

“I’ll just drop it here for now, she’ll come across it eventually.” Starlight decided, placing the scroll upon the lectern. “Now c’mon, I need your help finding something for me.”

Spike watched as the unicorn practically dove into the stacks and shelves of books, losing herself in the pages and the words. He shared a glance back to the scroll resting upon the lectern, wondering if perhaps he should take it to Twilight right away or follow Starlight’s suggestion. This scroll, he knew, was a message from the Princess of all of Equestria, the very ruler of the land and beholden “Raiser and Descender of the Sun.” To ignore any note, word, plea or cry from her was to mean grave offense towards rudimentary entente. Failure to attend to such basic matters would go down in history as one of the worst possible sins any pony could commit, next to burning books. At least, that’s what Twilight always told him.

The dragon returned his sights to his friend, watching her address the library index. “Starlight,” Spike glowered. “You know you’re supposed to be having tea with some friends right about now.”

“Pfft, whatever, I canceled that date.” Starlight waved her hoof. “Who has tea in the afternoon anyways? Now, are you gonna help me or not?”

“How am I supposed to know what we’re looking for?”

“I’ll know it when I see it.” She replied as she began to spin various books within her field of misty blue magic.

“Let me guess, Predictions and Prophecies?” Spike guessed.

“Predictions and Prophecies?”

“Believe it or not I’ve seen something almost exactly like this before.”

“Well, I’m not looking to predict anything, mind you, and I am most certainly not a prophet of any kind.” Starlight justified. “I’m not looking for things that could happen, I’m looking for things that have happened. Events embedded into history. The raw, down to earth facts.”

“Uh, you do know you’ve been tearing through the fiction section, right?” Spike pointed out. Starlight took a moment to look at the books swirling around her, groaned, and dropped them all at once as she headed over to the accounts and volumes of history.

“I just organized that…” Spike grumbled.

“Correlation? Cremation? No…” Starlight grumbled to herself as she searched and searched for this book she couldn’t quite catch the name of.

“Do you at least know the author?” Spike asked.

“There’d be several.” Starlight replied. “It’s an amalgamation of lesser known accounts and instances across time.”

“How many authors?”

“As many stars in the sky.” She mused

“I don’t suppose something on constellations would help?” Spike scratched his chin.

“Constellations…?” She whispered. “That’s it! Spike, you’re a genius!” Starlight flared her horn and with her magic dragged the dragon towards her and closed her hooves around him in a grateful embrace. She then returned to the shelves and studied the rows of books until she finally found what she was looking for. “Chronicles and Connotations.” She said. “Here we go.” She flipped the book open and laid it down on the lectern on top of the scroll to which she approached, cleared her throat, and began to read out loud.

“Regulus, the Star of the King.” Starlight read. “Otherwise known as the alpha star of the constellation Leon, thus being known as the ‘Heart of the Lion’ among many historical astronomers. Regulus is the brightest star in the constellation Leon, and one of the brightest stars in the night sky. As a result astronomers have deemed it to be closer to Equis than most other stars we see today.”

“Why would they call it the heart of a lion?” Spike questioned. “It’s just a star.”

“Researchers got pretty creative back then. My guess is that the sheer wonder of the stars alone strongly influenced their enthusiasm in prophecies.”

“So they made prophecies based upon the constellations?” Spike shrugged. “Seems plausible to me.”

Starlight shook her head. “These are just events in history that told us how ponies used to think and live, it’s not as if we need some long deceased wizard’s prophecy to direct our actions.”

“Oh yeah? Well, when Twilight tried to warn everypony about the return of Nightmare Moon nopony listened to her, and look what happened!”

“Oh, Spike~” Starlight cooed mockingly. “That’s a good observation, but let’s not forget the fact that the Princess had banished her to the moon a thousand years prior. Cause and effect, Spike. Cause and e-ffect!”

“Permanently!” Spike argued. “It said she was banished to the moon permanently, but she still returned.”

“The accounts vary, we’re talking a thousand years of translations and reiterations here.” Starlight stated confidently. “All I know is that if history is written by the winners then it can be rewritten by the successors. Just think about it, ponies are always mixing up their views, changing what they believe in. It was never a matter of what is truly right and wrong because they’ll only accept what they feel is right or wrong. Even if you know the truth, who’s going to believe you?”

“Well if even you’ve got your doubts on history then why don’t you tell me what’s got you so hooked on this star business? What else does your book say about it?” Spike pointed to the tome on the lectern.

Starlight turned to readdress the text, searching further down to find that a few side notes had been jotted down. “Strange,” she noted. “It looks like somepony recently wrote in here.”

“What? Lemme’ see!” Spike bolted up to Starlight’s side, peeking over the edge of the lectern.

Starlight continued reading. “After further speculation and astronomical research, it has been determined that Regulus is not one, but rather four stars. The four stars which make up the star system consist of a blue star, a white star, a red star, and an orange star.”

“Ah, jeez.” Spike sighed begrudgingly. “Once Twilight finds out somepony’s been writing in her books, she’s gonna flip.”

“But who wrote this, and why?”

“Like you said, history’s written by the losers, right?” Spike clamped the book shut.

“Winners.”

“Whatever, just-please try to keep this out of Twilight’s sight, if you can?” Spike pleaded. “I don’t want her to have another fit over book etiquette.”

“I thought it was my job to keep secrets from her, you mischievous little lizard.” Starlight teased. She took a glance back to the lectern to find the scroll still sitting there. “When are you going to tell her about the message?”

“Message?”

“Y’know, the one you barfed up?” She levitated the letter for him to see.

“I’ll go...right now!” Spike hopped and caught the scroll midair, prancing past the heap of cluttered books and to the library doors. “Hold down the fort for me?”

“Right, because you were doing a splendid job of that.” Starlight took glances around the mess of books.

Spike gave her a silent chuckle, yanking his body out the hallway and his head following along seconds after as though his neck were a tensioned rubber band.

Starlight took a moment to sigh and breath in the warm, midday dusty air of the calm, crystalline library. Ink stained pages, stained with the words of many, many ponies before and soon to be ponies carried the scent of ages past and times forgotten, lessons taught and although some written time and time again were never truly learned. A pony, Starlight supposed, only ever learned how to read, how to write, how to draw and dance and create music and sing lullabies, to render the resources surrounding them into instruments of antiquity and memory. To write a love letter, to fill out business papers, to compose a list of trinkets or of groceries. A pony changed the world around them to suit their needs, and their needs alone.

The unicorn wondered, if one day, could a pony ever change? If perhaps, one were not to write a poem, neither fill out taxes, nor compose a column of necessities, but to write a spell. Perhaps there was one spell out there that could be written and performed, one that could change a pony and in turn change the world. Well, at the end of the day those were just her beliefs. After all, who would ever believe Starlight Glimmer? Perhaps, she thought, I’ve only to believe in myself?

And so the ponies of Ponyville, lived on. They sung at their parties, feasted upon their pastries, wrote their poems and even did their taxes. Well, almost all of them did their taxes. There was noise in the plaza today, but just the right kind of noise. Noise which one would not mind should it be floating about in the background, the laughter of children and the singing of others barely touching their ears as yet another year to celebrate was graced to the collection of one’s life.

“If only you were given a few more.” Starlight spoke. She stood for a moment staring at an iron plaque embedded onto the side of a stone sundial. Upon the plaque the engraved words were read aloud by the unicorn. “Golden Oaks Library Memorial. In memory of the greatest library Ponyville ever had, and a home for friends.”

Her eyes traveled beneath the short spelled remembrance to find the library’s beginning year, alas it was blank. The end date read Year 5 of the Second Diarchy Age, but still the start date was oddly and intentionally left blank. Not a single pony in Ponyville knew when Golden Oaks Library had appeared and that was because the library was a tree. Ponies described it as being a great oak tree hollowed out from the inside to provide two simultaneous purposes, knowledge and serenity. It was both a library and a home, a monument to all the letters, lessons and legends of past ponies and their triumphs, sacrifices and efforts which all led to the event known as the Golden Oaks Tragedy that which rendered this homely hub of knowledge and peace into a lonely monument of only memory.

Starlight knew still that it was odd how the ponies did not know the true age of the oak tree, that none of them were capable of reading the number of circles expanding out from the heart-wood because the circles, they described, seemed more like spirals than ellipses. It was like nothing any of them had ever seen before, even Twilight, the last librarian to have maintained Golden Oaks admitted that the structure of the tree both inside and out baffled her so. As such many ponies deemed the age of the tree to be the same as Ponyville, some good years over a hundred or so. However, Starlight wasn’t buying it. There was a mystery to the forgotten library, a spiraling complexity to the tree, whose roots hanging within the new castle library to this day have yet to show any signs of rot or decay. Starlight decided in that moment and time to make it her dedication to get down to the root of things, struggling to refrain from the purposeful pun whilst heading back in the direction of the castle.

Only, the castle would have been much more enticing had it not been for the volley of screams bellowing from behind, a group of innocent, wide eyed pedestrians following soon after. Children were wrapped in their parent’s hooves, elders moseyed away on rusted hips and squeaky walkers, and of course, one pony yanked the welcome mat right in along with them, slamming their door and shutting out the terrifying world of screams.

Screaming. Why was everypony screaming?

“The horror! The horror!” A distant, wailing mare cried.

Starlight focused her attention on a passed out mare in the middle of the street and took the time to gasp for dramatic effect before approaching the fallen pony.

“It was awful!” Another mare cried.

“A disaster! A horrible, horrible disaster!”

It was a bright and beautiful sunny afternoon. With the streets now deserted everything seemed quite content, calm and in perfect serenity. Even a few distant chirping birds made sure of that.

“I don’t get it…” Starlight mused.

“Our party, destroyed!”

“Every last party favor, unfavorable!”

“By…by…THAT!”

The final mare pointed her hoof in the direction of, once again, seemingly nothing at all except the quiet tranquility that was Ponyville and its empty streets. As Starlight strained her sights in the direction where the mare had pointed her to, she and her two friends got up and galloped away in the opposite direction, not even wanting to wait a second further to see what might happen. The unicorn steeled herself and pushed forward into the unknown, wrapping around the corner of a building and coming upon the scenery of what appeared to be a party, or at least what was a party. A banner of congratulations over head, drinks and smoothies laid astray, bits of confetti and remnant balloons floating about, but not a pony in sight. As Starlight approached the punch table, finding many beverages seemingly knocked over in a hurry, the corner of her eye caught movement in conjunction with a rustle of noise.

“Is somepony there?” Starlight asked.

She received no response. Even for the outdoors it was dead quiet all around, and the birds were done chirping too. Something was strangely amiss, and the unicorn knew now she couldn’t leave it be. The source of movement then became her primary objective, crouched and on a cautious gait towards the wagon full of hay. Bit by bit, a minute after another and she was close enough to the wagon that she could practically breath on top of it, and in that moment of tension and waiting the movement from before had started up again, this time directly in her line of sight. Whatever the thing was, where it had come from, its strange, small, pink head with tiny dotted eyes and a bush of brown fur upon its scalp was peeking around the corner of the wagon. Understandably, Starlight fired up her horn and blasted it with a bright blue beam of magic.

Zap! Wunk!

The head, now completely encased within a hunk of crystal, succumbed to the planet’s gravity and slammed onto the earth. What happened next was what Starlight could only describe as something she’d seen out of an alien flick.

Two pink claws, colored same as the head, seemed to sprout from its body and grip the earth tightly, pushing against the weight of the hunk of crystal as it lurched forward from out of hiding, and stood bipedal. The creature was tall and gaunt, flailing its pink claws around as though it were in a fit of panic. The crystal hunk around its head had no space for ventilation, it could not breath! Starlight knew this as she had cast the crystal after all, and although she concluded that allowing it to breath would be the humane thing to accomplish, she instead considered the consequences of allowing it more freedom than it might actually deserve at the moment. In the midst of her thinking the creature halted, standing shakily on its sticks for legs. With unpredictable movement, one of its pink claws swung backwards and snagged Starlight by the horn. Now, it was her turn to panic.

Turquoise beams of energy shot in several different directions as Starlight attempted to shake the beasts grasp, but to no avail. She might as well have been wiggling a useless pick inside of a lock, and so she decided that a turning of the key would be required. With the creature’s grasp still tight around her horn Starlight’s thoughts briefly wandered back to the castle library, and in a blue flash of magic she was gone. The creature was gone too, leaving nothing but a birthday banner seared on one side falling down upon a disheveled party scenario, the hunk of crystal left lying on the ground in the center of it all.

The quiet, untouched calm of the castle library was about to be replaced by the incoming explosion of blue, depositing a unicorn and her newfound company into the nearest bookshelf, a torrent of tomes washing over them like a waterfall until they were engulfed whole. The books settled like dust, silence reigned over again for a few, short seconds, and then the shouting began.

Starlight burst out of her side of the pile. “That’s it, show yourself!” She demanded, flaring her horn to a lethal, hot blue. “If you can speak I’d choose your last words carefully.”

“Bad pony!”

“W-what?” Starlight was shocked, it could actually speak.

“I said bad pony!” David emerged from his side of the pile, staring Starlight in the eyes with seething pupils. “I should find a newspaper, roll it up, and…and…smack you with it!”

A hollow ten seconds lingered about in the air, save for the boy’s unkempt breathing as he tried to regain composure.

“So, you actually can speak.” Starlight concluded. “Are those your last words then?”

David opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“No.” He said, pointing at her. “You’re an asshole.”

And thus, those were his last words.

“But, Twilight,” Spike pleaded. “It’s from the Princess!”

“Yes, I know, but I’m not worried about that right now.” Twilight told him.

The little dragon was more or less appalled by this odd behavior. For whatever sort of explanation they were destined to down the hall and through the library double doors, Spike hoped that all the trouble he had gone through would make it a good one. For a lengthy moment the library was completely quiet, Twilight turning her sights to the left and right as though she were looking right past the old, familiar and soothing sight of books lined neatly across the shelves. As a matter of fact, they weren’t, most of them at least, and as a second matter of fact she had not shown a single sign of dismay to their disheveled state. What was this world coming to? Spike thought.

“Where is he?” Twilight turned and asked.

Starlight trotted her way around to get a good look of the library, acting as though the conundrum of books lying about were a complete surprise to her. “Strange, last I saw it was in here.” She said.

“You left him all alone?” Twilight panicked. “Don’t tell me he ran away!”

“Hey, I don’t recall your lack of supervision becoming my problem.”

“Uh, guys?” Spike’s voice called from the other end of the room.

“Fine, you’re right, this whole mess should have never fallen into anypony’s hooves but mine.” Twilight sufficed. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help then. But right now I need it, just this once.”

“It’s not as though I’d turn you down,” Starlight replied. “All I’m trying to say is you’re not making any sense. Whatever this thing is and wherever it came from, I want an explanation.”

“Then why don’t you come find out?” Spike called again.

Their attention was met with the concern of the small purple dragon crouching and peering into an oddly rectangular shaped conundrum of books stacked like a fortress’ walls. There was the addition of squared sections at each corner to represent towers, the uppermost portions of the walls shaped like battlements, and a small moat was even completed to the process. Blue books exclusively were chosen for its resemblance. Comically enough a fish was on the cover of one of the books. The two ponies and the dragon watched with fascination as the final wall was nearing its completion, and a book fell from the upper portion and onto the floor. After a hissed profanity and a short pause, a pink claw snatched the book out of sight for a short second before being tediously and carefully returned to its intended placement on the wall. The book’s title was House Repairs for Dummies.

“Well, what do ya’ know?” Twilight began to smile. “He’s built himself a book fort.”

“What do you mean ‘he’?” Starlight questioned.

“I uh, figured it was obvious.”

“I’m sorry, do you know him?”

Twilight nervously averted her gaze. “Alright, I confess we had a run in at the old ruins. That is to say that’s where I found him.”

“Doing what?” Starlight grew curious.

“All I know is he would’ve been a snack for the timber wolves had I not showed up in time.”

“I meant to ask, what were you doing at the ruins?”

The studious mare seemed to shrink in response to Starlight’s question, not daring to look back into her eyes to avoid the question. No doubt the bookish princess was hiding a secret or two this far into the investigation, and at that Starlight thought she might take it upon herself to increase her witness claims. The quarrel outside quickly dubbed the “ruined party ponies” by Starlight herself might have already gained enough sights of what this creature, this “him” that which Twilight claimed he was, might look like, but all of their accounts were a blur or a glance at best. Starlight knew very few ponies in all of Ponyville capable of staring at a chip in the floor boards or a crooked painting for more than five seconds before having a breakdown. This creature, common as he might be among other Ponyville daily shenanigans, was new game in this town, and Starlight had a habit of showing herself up to be top dog when a potential threat entered their humbled, valley village.

“That’s close enough!” An order rose from the book fort.

Starlight halted in her tracks and the trio outside looked to one another in question. “Hey, bub! Kid? Watch’a doing in there?” Starlight projected.

There was no response.

“Knock knock?”

“No thank you!” The boy responded. “Please leave a message at the tone! Boop!”

Silence ensued.

“That was supposed to be the tone.” He added.

Confused looks were shared.

A growl erupted from inside the fort. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice little pony…at times, but right now I don’t want anything to do with you.” David concluded.

Starlight found herself baffled, highly responsive even, so much so that she was prepared to either march right into his paper stacked shack or blast right through with her trigger happy horn, either one would work on her account. Alas, Twilight’s account interjected with a lavender wing raised in her tracks, and the Princess stepped around the unicorn with a subtle shake of her head. She turned and inched forward to the supposed entrance of the book fort, beginning with a calm tone.

“David?” She called.

“…Twilight?” A timid response returned.

“Are you alright?”

Silence.

“Listen,” Twilight continued. “I don’t know what exactly went down between you and Starlight, but I’d like to hear your part of the story.” A pause. “A-And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have looked away from you when we were out there not even for a second. I thought that maybe…” Twilight found her words falling into silence as she wasn’t even sure if the boy was listening to her anymore, and she wasn’t even sure of herself or what she was trying to tell him anymore. She eyed the structure for a moment, unsure of how much room he had renovated for himself in there. If there's anything she's learned about book forts, it's that confined spaces are certainly no remedy for anxiety. She breathed another sigh and called out again.

“Can I come in?” She asked.

“You’re not gonna use your magic too, are you?”

“I have no need to.”

Another spell of silence.

“Okay.” He settled.

Twilight crouched and wormed her way through the tiny opening at the foot of the fort. She wondered just how exactly he intended to get in and out of the fort with an entrance so small, and then she realized that he probably didn’t intend to leave at all, not anytime soon that is. A second later, and Twilight’s head poked through the wall. She peered up and located her human companion fixated in the fetal position on the other side of the small space within.

“Hullo.” She chirped.

“Hey.” He responded feebly. “I-Is the other pony still out there?”

“You mean Starlight?”

“I don’t think she likes me.” He frowned.

“Nonsense, I’m sure she was only taking precautions.” Twilight crawled up to him and sat down. “That’s just Starlight being…Starlight.”

“I don’t think any of those ponies like me.” He gripped his head. “I don’t think I’m going to last much longer in this world after all. Aw, this is all my fault, isn’t it?”

“Hey, it’s okay.” She cooed. “I’m sure you did nothing wrong.”

“It’s my body, and my head.” He rubbed his shoulders. “I get all queasy whenever you guys use your magic on me, like I’m about to throw up, or something.”

“Well then, we’re done with magic for today.” She insisted. “I’ll jot down a list of things that bother you so we know not to do any of that stuff anymore. In the meantime, we’re going to find a way to send you home.”

“Home? Wait, no no, I’m still dreaming, aren’t I?” He panicked mildly.

“Settle down, you’re safe here.” The mare cooed again.

He shook his head and covered his face, whimpering into his palms. “I just don’t know anymore, Twilight.”

The mare simply sat there staring upon the fragile, jumpy and hopeless boy curled up in the corner of his makeshift barricade from the outside world. For someone who appeared rather scary and even disgusting to look at for the inhabitants of Equestria, any one of those ponies from before could see just how frightened he was through his body language alone. It had only been an approximate two hours since his arrival and already his shell was beginning to crack, his trust of things and people wearing thin. Twilight decided to let her instincts take over, just this once.

“When I was younger I used to get scared about so many things, and that was before I realized there’s no reason to be afraid of those things, of course.” She told him. “But you know what I did whenever I got scared? I would build a book fort, one just like this.”

David lifted his face from his palms to peek at Twilight.

“It would take my family hours to convince me to come out.” She giggled. “And by the time they did, I would be so engrossed in a book that I’d forgotten just what exactly scared me so much in the first place.”

And there it was, a smile. The boy’s first smile, though it was more of a grin but a smile nonetheless. It allowed Twilight to smile back, returning the gesture in quiet reassurance that the boy could at the very least feel safe around her and open up to her. Twilight began to survey the books surrounding them until her eyes fell upon a simple text, and remembering not to utilize her magic she took a hold of the book with a hoof and slid it over to her.

“Even though you just only got here the world can still be a scary place, I understand. But just remember that there are things that can make it better, make it all easier to understand.” She slid the book in his direction. “And that remedy may just mean a little bit of reading.”

She wasn’t anticipating any particular reaction out of the boy as he reached forward with his hand and took the book in question. Perhaps it would just be something to occupy him for a moment, perhaps even something he could utilize and prove his intelligence with, as Twilight had no doubt in her mind that he did in fact possess such feats of intellect. However, she watched as his face tightened, his eyes squinting and his nostrils pinching. Something was wrong…

The time of twilight was drawing near, the sun only inches away from the horizon before it would begin its final descent of the day, and in its wake the night would reign. The sun’s setting glow shined through the windows and onto the prismatic floors, walls and ceilings of the deep blue crystalline castle, imbuing hues of orange and red into the dazzling mix of reflective splendor. One might walk through the castle at sunset time and see the resemblance of twilight in the castle’s interior, as well as the exterior, that which those within and the citizens of Ponyville would anticipate the coming of dusk within moments. The castle was like a clock for the beginning and ending of a day, and held within was knowledge as vast as a university library, perhaps even grander and bigger than such.

The boy had finally been left to himself, sitting alone in the great, central chamber of the castle. There was a grand, round table with six crystal thrones, each bearing a unique mark of their own over the center piece. Above the table was what appeared to be a network of roots, the bottom half of a tree uprooted and hung onto the ceiling. Spherical, crystalline orbs of many colors dangled from the branches and shined in the setting sun’s light. At glimpses, he could catch images reflecting in the countless, colorful orbs that dangled all around. It held his attention so, and the two ponies from before stood idly in the hallway, speaking to one another and peeking back in on the room to keep an eye on the boy.

“So,” Starlight began. “He couldn’t understand a word of Ponish?”

“That’s what he told me.” Twilight replied.

“Then isn’t it obvious?” The unicorn tensed. “He’s an enemy of the state.”

“I’d like to know what exactly brought you to this conclusion.” The Alicorn waited.

“What I’d like to know, oh Princess, is why you’ve willingly allowed this foreign, unidentified species, this…kid, to enter into our territory? Into our castle, for that matter.” Starlight tensed again, eyeing the boy through the slit of the door. “Just look at him, he’ll be at our throats the second we go to close our eyes.”

There must have been something threatening in the way the boy nibbled on his carrot, eyeing the decorations above like a lost puppy.

“Starlight, ease up.” Twilight leaned over. “He’s been through a lot this afternoon, you ought to know.”

The unicorn knew exactly what the princess met, and the images of blasting the boy across the library floor with a push-force spell reverberated through her mind. Luckily there was no damage dealt to him as far as she was aware, but the offensive move was certainly mean and uncalled for now that she was fully realizing it. The poor kid, Starlight thought.

“He’s rambled on about some sort of dream or these unwavering hallucinations ever since I found him. He’s probably not even aware that he could be in a state of shock due to the sensory overload.” Twilight explained. “Where ever he’s from he’s not used to seeing this much…how should I put it? Color.”

“What’d you do, drop him on his head?”

Twilight gave her student a raised eyebrow. Once gain, Starlight recalled her misplaced hostility.

“Alright, point taken.” The unicorn grumbled. “But, I still don’t think that’s any reason to let our guard down.” She recomposed. “Call me crazy, but it feels like I’ve had this odd sensation lingering in the back of my mind, and it started just before this new friend of yours decided to show up.”

“If you’re that concerned-”

“Of course I’m concerned!” Starlight blurted, a little louder than she would have liked.

The ponies peeked back through the door, and the boy seemed undisturbed.

Twilight breathed and returned to the unicorn. “Starlight.” She began slowly. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but this isn’t that kind of dilemma.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’re eager to take action especially in the face of a new problem, and believe me, I respect that.” The Alicorn acknowledged. “You’re smart, talented, cunning…maybe a little too much at times.”

Starlight waned past the sugar-coated compliments, knowing her Highness was only trying to build up to her point. The lectures, it seemed, never ended with this mare. If there was one thing the unicorn could never get over with this pony, it was the lectures.

“So what you’re saying is…you don’t want my help?” Starlight almost frowned.

Twilight took another pause, glancing in aimless directions before concluding her thoughts. “Princess Celestia had once taught me that there will be times when a pony’s help isn’t needed.” The Alicorn said, looking back to the other mare. “Harsh as that might sound, that’s what I’m trying to teach you.”

Immediately, Starlight knew what the lesson was all about now. Or, at least she thought she knew. Patience was the first value she sought to take up, in spite of the fact that she had never mastered it, never quite learned it, perhaps had never even read the definition of it.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to follow your lead.” Starlight quipped. “What’s your proposal, Princess?”

The Alicorn turned to take another peek at the boy through the crack of the door. Starlight eyed her cautiously, glanced back to the boy, and back to Twilight. A few moments later and the double doors swung open, the two ponies slowly trotting up to the human with mixtures of seriousness and concern in their expressions. David ceased his nibbling and sat up.

“Be at ease.” Twilight calmed. “There will be no further proceedings today.”

Starlight fixed an askew look to her mentor before returning to the boy. His gaze shied away, focusing back on the Princess.

“Your safety and well-being is priority number one.” She told him. “Therefore, I will allow you to stay in the castle for as long as you like. You may choose any of the rooms you desire. My assistant, Spike, will lead you through the castle.”

At that, the double doors behind him swiveled opened to the entrance of the short, purple dragon from before. Spike waddled up and glanced at Twilight before warily glancing to David, sizing him up several times over. David rested over the arm of the chair and looked down at Spike with a curious gaze. It was the first time he had seen the little dragon so close, and a smirk of mischief achieved his lips.

“Hey shorty, where’s Wonka?”

“Shorty?!” Spike blurted.

“What’s the matter, lose your way to the chocolate factory?”

“I’ve never even heard of that place!” Spike scowled. “Twilight, who is this guy?!”

Starlight was busy laughing as the Princess rounded the table to address the two. David couldn’t ignore the almost uncontrollable laughter coming from the mare on the other side of the table, and he supposed it was a step in a somewhat better direction. If anything, the boy knew he wasn’t good at making friends the polite way, so instead he made allies.

By that point, Spike had become far too flustered and frustrated to do anything he was told, and at that David took the opportunity to slip away and roam the castle on his own. At last it was a moment of peace, a moment alone, a moment he very much needed and welcomed with a breathing embrace. He studied the interior of the structure once again, regarding the glittering walls and ceilings, the carpeted floors and the regal banners floating every door frame or so. From the far end of the hall he was wandering through, he at first mistook a bright, fiery light for that of a roaring fireplace, only to discover that the source led to an open balcony area aimed towards the village in the valley. It’s entrance was a giant maw lined with gold and amber and two burgundy curtains, one generously swept aside. He crossed the threshold with calmed steps, subconsciously making sure to take each and every second of the dazzling moment in. His eyes pinched and stretched across the vastness of Ponyville to a sight to behold, and one to behold by all both native and foreign to this land, the setting of the sun. It touched the horizon gently, lines of gold and orange layering one after the other beneath the black-green line it was hiding itself behind. Purples, pinks and blues stretched like canvas markings in the sky, encouraging twilight to claim its time and soon enough bring on the night.

The boy watched, motionless, transfixed to the be-speckled lights until it was gone. His wants, his needs, hopes and dreams and all that which he might of left on earth…disappearing like a fleeting light being drawn behind a shadowy horizon veiled in mystery. Though he had not realized it in that moment, it was the beginning of a new life here in Equestria, here in the humbled town of Ponyville.