Mirror: Book I - Mind

Big, bright, scarlet letters danced a haphazard line above and across the front entrance of the great, tree-shaped, crystal castle, supplied by the early, golden glimpses of the morning sun. The red paint oozed its way down the wall in runny, disorganized lines, splotches of the stuff accumulating pools upon the stairs, the bushes, and the grass below. Four occupants stood outside, staring and gawking at the grandiose display of graffiti, all except for the young, lilac unicorn whom prodded at her chin, trying all she had to make heads or tails of the poorly written Ponish before her. Carefully, she eyed her companions and traded sights between them and the propaganda on the wall.

There the three stood, the Alicorn, the dragon, and the human, mouths still agape, and there Starlight stood awkwardly rubbing her other leg until the urge to break the ice finally came through.

“Yeah, not even my horn writing is that bad-”

“This. Is. A. DISASTER!” Twilight hovered above the ground, holding her head and fluttering about in a nervous, frantic fit. “How could I have let this happen? Where did it all go wrong? If Princess Celestia ever finds out about this, she’s going to kill me. No, worse! She’ll send me back to magic kindergarten, I’ll be solving rudimentary math problems as a princess!”

“Calm down, Twilight, it’s nothing to get all worked up about.” Spike attempted. “Besides, this castle technically belongs to the Pillars, so if anything Starswirl the Bearded is going to have something to say about it.”

The lavender mare swooned and threatened to drop to the earth like a fly, and Spike was ready to catch her in spite of his inferior size. Starlight had at least half the mind to summon a brown, paper bag and levitate it over the Princess’ mouth, to which she instinctively took a hold and began her ritualistic breathing patterns, albeit more hyperventilating than usual.

David stood upon the sidelines watching with an odd, uncomfortable stare, knowing that there wasn’t much in the moment he could do though he wished he could help change everything for the better. It all came down to the fact that this had happened because of him, because of his anger and his misplaced behavior that led to this mysterious act of graffiti painted over the castle’s front lawn. He turned to Starlight, whom still held that same, speculating stare.

“You think they’re trying to tell me something?” David joked.

“’MONKEY GO HOME!’” Starlight read back. “That’s what.”

“Well, it’s official, my career in Ponyville has hit the fan.” The boy hung his head, lumbering back to the castle. “If you need me I’ll be humming the tune to Winter Wrap-up in the fetal position, at the bottom of a cold shower.”

“Not so fast, sulk master.” She willed her magic, yanking him by the collar. “This is the perfect opportunity for you and I to go on a hunt.”

“For?”

“The culprit, of course!” Starlight drew him closer. “I’m willing to bet a hoof and a leg the numb skull who did this doesn’t even know the first rule of ‘rebelling against the system.’ Let the enemy strike you, but never strike back.” She turned back to the castle. “This? This right here is our ticket against their case, straight up vandalism.”

“Their case, huh?” The boy repeated. “You mean to tell me you plan to take this to some sort of court of law?”

“Anything to wipe your name clean and reveal the tyranny of the people.” The unicorn grinned devilishly.

“Jesus Christ, Starlight, were you always equipped with this sort of manipulative thinking?” He shook his head. “I’m beginning to think the forest did something to you. Like it struck a familiar chord, and now here you are ready to…ready to fight for my stead?”

“I mean, haven’t I always?” She beamed innocently.

“What’s the catch here?” David squinted with suspicion. “Why are you so fixed on helping me all of a sudden?”

Starlight’s face fell as she took a glance back to the purple princess a trot and a skip away, still working on her breathing technique, although slowly and much more calm than before. She returned to the boy and drew him in closer once more, a secretive whisper masking over her tone.

“Listen, this is between you and me, got it?”

David blinked, then nodded intently.

“I told you about that village in the desert I used to look after, right? Well, ashamed as I may be to admit it, I was having the time of my life out there in that dry, worthless landscape. Ever since I left that town I haven’t experienced a single shred of thrill that could ever compare to the time I spent in the desert, except for when I fought Twilight, I guess. And that time I brainwashed all of her friends. Also, the changelings came back and we had to take care of those guys. Did I mention I’ve helped save Equestria almost a dozen times now-”

“Alright, I get it, the writers were getting lazy. Can you get to the point already?”

“My point is this:” the pony paused. “I don’t know what you did or how you did it, but you changed something in me. A familiar kind of change, almost as if I feel like my old self again. Like I’ve…woken up from this dream.”

David felt a vital part of himself drop down into his stomach as a dreadful sense of warning and urgency washed over him. Something told him in that moment that he knew the forest hadn’t done something to her, but rather he had done something to her, something that not even he could decipher. For better or for worse, the boy felt that his presence alone had disrupted what manner of balance this realm possessed, and it was one step closer to figuring something out. In which direction? He could not tell. The smile upon Starlight’s face was unmistakably genuine, and the boy couldn’t will himself to tell her otherwise.

“The penalty system is, for lack of a better term, a tedious process.” The cold, stoic tone slithered its way around the room and back to the occupants’ ears, one not so aware of its effects as the other. He continued. “I do advise that you remain patient while we work to evaluate these conditions.”

“My crops are soiled because of her!” The farm pony was furious. “Her and the whole damn weather pegasus crew ought’a be indicted, they owe me big time!”

The pegasus in question sat beside the infuriated earth colt with a frozen, stiff stare aimed straight out the window and into the open air of Ponyville. She studied the clean, blue sky and the tiny number of clouds floating about as her chair mate’s long, strand of wheat threatened to bristle her cheek or poke her in the eye. The stallion took a moment to settle down, fixing his hat and looking back up at the ambassador on the other end of the desk, his stoic demeanor unphased behind neatly folded hooves.

“In light of the fact that the company Miss Sunshower here belongs to is a state provided service, we are to first and foremost address suitable means of authority before we begin the financial processes. These terms can of course be negotiated within a court of law, and the same can be said for whatever penalty is deemed necessary for her supposed violations. That is why, Mr. Greenhooves, I advise that you remain patient for the time being.”

“Pfft, who ya’ callin’ greenhooves?” The pony spat. “That’s ‘Hayseed’ to you, ya’ hook-horned rice goer. I dunno what it is with our government allowing foreigners like you to hop across the ocean and start taking chairs like you own the place, but the line needs to be drawn somewhere.” The old pony grumbled on.

Mikado straightened his posture, something of a subtle move to keep himself at bay. “I respect your political preferences, Hayseed. In my own humble opinion I aim for only the best and most competent occupants to be seated in these chairs, regardless of their ethnicity.” His eyes hovered over to the quieter one. “And what about you, Miss Sunshower? Do you have a say in all of this?”

“I will adhere to the consequences as the court sees fit.” The captain answered carefully. “I realize now that the day the bakery was burning down, my actions were my own. Of that, I am content.”

“So be it.” Mikado nodded, flared his horn and upturned his stack of papers to tap them upon his desk. “The date of the trial has yet to be determined, thus I shall send you updates on any further changes. Our meeting is adjourned.”

Mr. Greenhooves, or rather Hayseed kicked his chair from underneath his rump and stood abruptly, grumbling and growling all the more as his hooves carried him to the double doors leading into the hallway. Oskie, Cskie, Blossomforth, Cloudkicker and Cloud Chaser popped their heads from the door and back into the hallway, hiding from the frustrated farm stallion as he trotted down the hall. The weather pegasi looked to each other after their captain had not showed up after a while, and popped their heads back into the room. There the pegasus was upturning the knocked over chair and resting it back to its feet, hence her unresting need for perfection in play. It gave the old Neighsian plenty of time to make his inquiry.

“Do you have a clear objective, Miss Sunshower?” Mikado asked her.

“I’m sorry?” She spared a side-eye.

Mikado’s gaze traveled to the windows as he spoke. “To my knowledge, your agreement to become captain of the weather team was not entirely of your own volition. Something else has drawn you to the ground below, hasn’t it?”

Sunshower instinctively gripped the thick, cylindrical disc beneath her wing. “It would seem you already have an idea.” She replied.

“Hm, no need to be so cautious, as you always seem to be.” He nodded with a satisfied grin and shooed with his hoof. “But, your business is your own. Very well, you may go now.”

And Sunshower did just that, making a prompt enough exit to bump into one of her crew mates well before the poor colt even realized she was coming. Oskie was knocked onto the hallway floor, rubbing the pain from his rump as his captain quickly apologized and helped the pegasus back up to his hooves. With a quiet, collected demeanor the rest of the team gathered around and shared uncertain glances before the silvery-maned, sporty mare spoke up.

“So, how did it go?” Cloud Chaser asked innocently.

“I’m not going to hide anything.” Sunshower began. “We might be in a heap of a lot more trouble than I first realized. This isn’t just going to affect me, but all of you may be held responsible.”

Silence and wary stares reigned over the crew once more, nopony really knowing what to say or do in that moment, all expect to provide a time of silence for what may have seemed like the beginning of the end for Ponyville’s weather patrol wing. Then, Oskie perked up.

“What did he mean by a ‘clear objective’?” He asked.

Cskie was quick to elbow his rib. “Quiet, idiot!”

“Ouch…” Oskie rubbed his barrel. “I was just curious, sheesh.”

“We weren’t listening in on your meeting, captain. Honest!” Cloudkicker stood at attention.

Sunshower delivered an inquisitive gaze.

“Okay, we weren’t trying to listen in on your meeting, but-”

“It’s okay.” Sunshower reassured. “I think now is the proper time that I show this to you guys.” And motioned her crew closer.

Everypony present paused and gathered around with wide, wondering gazes as their captain slowly motioned her hoof beneath her wing and drew out the item for them to see. What laid in her hoof was a golden disc with elegant markings etched all around, no thicker than a puck and no wider than the circumference of her hoof. Sunshower squeezed the bottom with the frog of her hoof, and the crew mates witnessed in awe as the golden disc opened up to the cardinal directions of a compass.

“This compass was given to me by my mother, and it belonged to my father.” The pegasus explained. “She told me that he had traveled with it for as long as he could remember, but never really figured out how it works or why it acts the way that it does.”

As if on queue, the compass needle spun to one direction and then to the next, as if it were unsure on which way was what, or if it even knew up from down or left from right. The crew watched on with curiosity as the mare continued.

“I never really got to know my father, so I suppose that me holding on to this was a means of continuing the dream he had abandoned after dedicating so many years to it. But why would I want to? If he never took it upon himself to spend some time with his daughter, why should I hold onto a dream that can only, surely send me into a dead-end? If I’m still not sure as to why I’ve held onto this thing for so long, then I guess I really don’t have an objective.”

As clear as day, what the captain had meant to say was that she was lost, and she blinked with dreadful realization as she had just indirectly admitted this to her entire crew. The ponies who depended on her, the ponies who looked up to her, were finally being given the demoralizing and painful to hear truth. Quickly, Sunshower closed the compass and tucked it back beneath her wing.

“That was…uncalled for, I suppose?” The captain mumbled.

“No, of course not!” Cloud Chaser sprung. “It was very thoughtful of you to open up to us for once, captain. It was a very beautiful compass.” She searched her friends for answers. “Wasn’t it, Oskie?”

“W-Wha-huh?” The stallion opened his wings.

“Say it was a fine, beautiful compass.” Cloud Chaser urged.

“Um, yes, of course!” The poor colt fumbled. “I really liked how the needle did its own thing.”

Cloud Chaser swung a hoof over her forehead and quickly turned back to Sunshower. “We’re not here to judge you, captain, we’re here to listen to whatever you’ve got to say. Just because we’re under your wing doesn’t mean you have to keep a straight face around us.”

“Yeah, it’s just like you said.” Cskie followed. “Ponies make mistakes all the time, right? We have no reason to treat you any different.”

“We know that sounds a little condescending, but we mean you well, cap.” Blossomforth spoke.

“You don’t have to hide your feelings.” Cloudkicker provided.

All the support blanketed over the lost and confused captain like puzzle pieces before an elderly mare. So many options were to beheld, so many different ways to fit together, yet the pony was almost always uncertain of how they all fit together. Not everypony would make it through, not everypony would see the same light that which the rest might behold one day, and that answer seemed to come sooner than later as a familiar, gray figure trotted her way up the hall. Sunshower blinked and straightened herself out to the new presence before her, the rest of the crew turning and following suit. It was Derpy, and upon the saddle of her back she balanced a badge and a small sash. Her weather patrol equipment.

“Hello, captain.” Derpy spoke rather properly.

“Miss Hooves.” Sunshower returned formerly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“And your daughters?”

“They’re doing alright.” Derpy heaved a sigh and attempted her eyes upon the ponies. “I’m not going to keep you here any longer than I have to, so I’ll cut to the chase.” She turned and picked her equipment up in her mouth and dropped it into her hoof, offering the items forward. “I’ve come to resign.”

It was more than obvious before the young mother had even said it, but Sunshower was still struck at a loss of words. Though the pony before her had probably been one of the worst pegasus ponies she had ever had the burden of training, a deep, piercing strike of guilt and regret tugged at her chest and brought her spirits down to the ground. Forget what the poor state of this pony’s work report looked like, she was only trying to feed her family. Sunshower dreadfully knew however that this was for the better, a much more forgiving farewell compared to the sorry fates she and her crew mates might face in the near future.

“I understand.” Sunshower accepted solemnly. “Thank you for your time, Miss Hooves.”

“Of course.” The gray pegasus nodded, and turned to make her exit.

“Er, Derpy?”

She stopped and looked back.

“Where will you go?” The captain asked.

Derpy delivered a reassuring smile. “Where I’ve always belonged.” She said. “The post office.”

Rose Luck’s head hung low past her chest and veiled over with a gloomy, guilt-littered aura. Several townsponies stood on the sidelines of Town Hall as they watched her make her exit through the double doors and out into the foggy, cold, morning air. Sam and Ralph followed close by, along with Mayor Mare, whom met her two investigators standing at the summit of the stairs. There was a slow, curt nod to Ronin and Amethyst before the Mayor returned to Rose with a straight, condescending tone.

“Your penalty is as such: For the next three months you will report to Town Hall every morning to gather equipment and provide community service to Ponyville. Failure to meet this quota, aside from any emergencies, will result in jail time.”

Rose responded with a slow, solemn nod. “I understand. And for what it’s worth, Mayor Mare, I’m sorry.”

“You owe your apology to the townsponies, I don’t have a garden.” The old mare turned and mumbled. With a rather surprising amount of reverence she turned back to her two investigators and regarded them with a confident grin, turning first to the young stallion. “Well, Mr. Edelhoof, it seems you proved me wrong after all. Not many of the ponies I’ve met in my life have been able to do so, let alone be given the chance to.”

“What might that be, Miss Mayor?” Ronin wondered.

“Your companion, Miss Amaranth, seems to have proved her worth after all. I trust you played a big part in her upbringing.” The Mayor smiled, and turned to the young, lavender unicorn. “Meet me in my office later this afternoon, and we can discuss the terms of your new role at Town Hall.” And she winked, gracefully trotting off soon after and back into the building.

By then the scarlet maned mare had taken her leave, a slow and lumbering figure sauntering among the ponies of the plaza square who traded several glares and nickering insults her way. To them, she almost seemed no better than that Berry Punch, no better than that Trixie. Just another mare out to make life difficult for everypony else.

Amethyst stood by and watched with dull eyes as the earth pony lumbered away in the direction of her shop, most likely to inform her friends of the news and prepare for the longest three months of her life. Slowly, the young unicorn’s gaze hovered over to her partner, and Ronin had nothing to deliver but a simple and empty stare, his face almost completely devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Regardless of what he had told her before, regardless of the adamantly stoic culture Ronin had said he had grown up in, Amethyst knew that it was neither for show nor out of habit. Without a single word, whisper or even a breath, the young Neighsian turned and trotted down the steps.

“Ronin…” Amethyst reached.

“There’s nothing more to be done now.” He replied without turning. “We found the culprit, turned her in, and got you back on the path to your career. This is what you wanted, right?”

Amethyst gave a stiff frown. “Yes, but…” And the words failed to arrive.

The stallion’s front remained towards town, more closely in the direction of the train station, and a certain dread flooded the young mare’s senses to let alone even think about what her partner planned on doing next. He wasn’t going to be her partner for much longer. After everything had been said and done, short-lived as it might have been, Amethyst felt as though something were already missing. Something is still missing…

“You never told me why you really came to Ponyville.” She called.

At this, the young stag finally gave a turn, and looked up at Amethyst from the bottom of the steps. The sunlight basked upon his bright, brown coat and deep, burgundy mane. Emerald green eyes shone brilliantly with a calm, patient and knowing look within them. Ronin smiled faintly.

“You’re an ambitious young mare, Amethyst. Though you may be impulsive from time to time, and quite rude too, I know that with a little bit of concentration you can aim all of that energy in the right direction. One day, you’re going to change the world. I just know it.”

His smile faded, his head turned, and without warning, that familiar, fleeting scent flew by Amethyst’s muzzle like a petal lost in the wind. She wasn’t sure as to why she stood there for so long, she wasn’t sure as to why she didn’t move her hooves or roar up her lungs one last time to call to that petal flying away in the breeze. Only seconds later, Derpy came trotting out of the double doors behind her, and trotted up next to her adopted daughter with a slow, concerned demeanor. The young unicorn looked down and to the side, allowing the pegasus to snuggle the pony’s head beneath her chin and against her breast. A moment later, the two parted.

“C’mon, little star.” The mother beckoned. “Let’s go home.”

It was a tenuous, time-consuming trudge up the stairs, down the hallway and into her bedroom. Finally falling onto the plush, warm surface of her bed, Amethyst’s eyes traveled over to the open window and rested upon the bouquet of flowers sitting upon its surface. Every bit of joy, warmth, and beauty that the flowers once held had crumpled away into a shriveling, gray wilt.