Introspection

Chapters

A lack of walls
Curious Problems
Regret
A Maze of Challenging Strengths
Redemption
Contemplation
Thought Process
Challenge, Or Not
Wishful Thinking
The Journey Continues
Green is Not a Creative Color
Not As It Seems
Angry Thoughts
Minor Annoyances
Feeling Blue
What is known
Madame
We're in your mind, Pinkie
Different Similarities
Questions and Answers

A lack of walls

The grass was a vivid green, a sweet-smelling breeze wafted gently through the air, and Pinkie Pie was happy. Confused beyond belief, but happy. She had bounced about the second field for quite some time after the rocks had departed, trying to make sense of what it had said and meant; and after all, she couldn’t think staying still. Movement encouraged the blood to flow, and the brain to work. The other thing that would help was some food, something sweet to be precise. Pinkie had kept a wary eye on the hills off in the distance, wondering about whether she should wander in their direction, or whether it was a mistake to venture too far. She was within her own mind? How? Why? The rocks had told her that if she lingered for too long that she would be stuck here forever. Forever, she was a fan of forever when it was good, and this was a fun place, granted, but she was alone. How long had she been here anyway? Did time matter?

Pinkie eventually halted her bouncing, glancing upward. The bright pink bubbles that dotted the perfect blue sky hadn’t changed at all. They were fine like that, she decided. Not everything needs to change. After all, why should something perfect change?

Eventually her curiosity compelled her to venture in the direction of the hills. The wind picked up slightly as she moved forward, the grass grew a breath taller, and flowers began to appear in bright displays of pink, blue, and gold. Their colors stood out in gloriously display against the eternal green of the grass, giving character to the landscape, and adding to the wonder of the strange realm. She still doubted that this was her mind, as there was still a serious lack of things she enjoys. For one there were no parties to be seen anywhere, no candy, no cupcakes, and no other ponies to enjoy it with. As far as she was concerned, her mind should be filled with things she liked, not just a beautiful landscape. She couldn’t help but smile as she bounced along though, this place did compel her to be happy. So maybe it wasn’t completely devoid of things she liked and surrounded herself with on a regular basis. Even so…

The hills were even stranger up close than they were far away. They had the appearance of large blocks, sticking straight up and increasing in height as they extended back, until a certain part where they disappeared from view. The uniform grass greeted her as she approached the first of the hills, staring straight out at her from its perch on the side of the block-shaped formation. Pinkie moved very close and stared at the formation with her usual demeanor. It seemed to be satisfactory.

“Hello?” she called out into the hills. There was no reply. “Humph. There should be somepony here with me.”

Normally Pinkie wouldn’t have thought twice about jumping into the excitement of exploring this strange place, but then again this was no ordinary day, in no ordinary place either. With unusual caution, she reached a single foot out and placed it upon the wall of the first hill. She was doing a hoofstand. The same hoof she had reached out was now supporting the weight of the pink pony.

“What? Aah!” the sudden, yet appropriate, exclamation ripped from her as she tumbled forward in a heap.

The grass caught her, and she sprung back up, looking backwards. Another wall faced her. Not the one she had placed her hoof upon either, as she could not see the top. It simply stretched away into the horizon. She blinked and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I…wonder.” She grinned and moved towards the new wall.

Without pausing, she placed both of her front hooves upon it only to find herself doing a hoofstand, yet the momentum she had when she placed her hooves upon the wall propelled her forward into a summersault. She rose and ran at the first hill, leaping onto it and as such falling on her belly. Pinkie rose, quite content with herself, and hummed as she moved along the side of the hill, now a field.

The summit of the first hill was upon her shortly, appearing as a drop. Feeling confident in her newfound ability, Pinkie did not slow and carried on right over the edge, yet the edge never came. She stood atop a small patch of grass, drop-offs to either side of her, and another, taller, formation ahead of her.

“Hop, skip and a jump.” She said happily, and leapt towards the opposite hill. She predicted the soft landing, spun with her dancer’s grace, and looked back. Ahead of her was…strange. She wasn’t sure, so instead she looked up to see the edge of the spot she had been just standing on a ways above her, and the drop-off she had avoided by simply jumping. The delighted the pony tremendously, and the next several moments were spent jumping back and forth from wall to wall, each time landing on the flat ground, each one different from the rest, with a new perspective. She tried flips, kicks, jumping, and running to gain more distance, once completely missing the top of the first hill and finding herself landing on what she presumed was the far wall, by at least some perspective that is. As it seemed nothing really had walls here. There was no limit to what she could do here, no limit to the fun she could have. Now that did sound like something that would be in her mind.

“I wonder if my friends would be able to do this?” she was still troubled by the fact that they weren’t here with her. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if they might not like it here. It wouldn’t be any fun if they weren’t having fun. She began to think about them more…getting a little bit sad at their absence. The feeling wouldn’t go without being challenged though, as it seemed if this was her mind she wouldn’t allow herself to be sad.

Something small and furry touched one of her hooves, causing her to jump slightly. Down next to her hoof was a rabbit: grey, with long ears and eyes full of love and anticipation.

“Ooh! Looks like I’m not alone here. Well, I guess I wasn’t alone at all. Where did you come from?”

The rabbit hopped a few feet away from her, towards the summit of the second formation, beckoning for her to follow it. All to happy to oblige, Pinkie hopped along after it, taking care not to hop too high, should she find herself on the wall of the first hill, which was now above her. The pair walked up to the summit, again dropping away into nothingness, and walked over the edge to stand on top. Turns out the other hills were off to one side, yet those did not command the slightest bit of her attention, for the view she now beheld surpassed anything she could have imagined. Hills, pits, valleys (with actual slopes) and other strange sights that she could not put to words, were all before her. Giving a squeal of delight, Pinkie jumped from the summit and landed on the horizontal of the side of the blockish hill.

“Wait!” she halted suddenly, the rabbit smacked into her back leg. She stood very still, then lifted her nose and smelled the air. The ambrosial aroma of baked goods was wafting along. She stood very still for half a moment, taking it all in, before speeding off as fast as she could. The rabbit, having climbed up onto her back, yanked her hair, causing an immediate stop that catapulted the rabbit off.

“Oops! Sorry!” she grimaced apologetically and rushed over. The rabbit was fine, though it seemed a bit agitated. “Did you want something? Oh, Rocky told me that there were some rules, then told me there weren’t. Do you know anything about rules? Can you talk?”

The rabbit looked up at her.

“Aww. I wish you could talk.”

“Thanks.” It squeaked. “There are some rules. Do you believe this is your mind yet?”

“Well, if I could have my mind anyway I want, this would be hard to beat.” She smiled briefly, yet it faded before a small sensation of sadness. “Just…my friends.”

“Don’t think about them. Wait. You can’t be sad here.”

“I can’t be sad?”

“Not here. There are places to be sad, but this is not it. Remember, you need to find the door or else you will be stuck here forever. Enjoy the party.”

With that the rabbit hopped away and up the adjacent wall. She suspect it didn’t look like a wall to the rabbit, and wouldn’t when she walked up it as well. Pinkie took a step forward, then halted, thinking about what the rabbit had said. ‘You can’t be sad here.’ She cocked her head and mulled it over. Then again, the rabbit did say something about a party. It wouldn’t hurt to spend a little bit of time here.

Curious Problems

The stationary pink bubbles dotted an endlessly bright, blue sky above a great expansion of rolling and inverted hills. Among these hills lay deep pits, flowers of every color, the softest grass ever felt by a pony, and enough good things to eat to keep even the most ravenous of creatures content. An even rationing of warm, sweet air, usually only savored upon perfect summer nights, coated the landscape. Among the endless wonder of the land was the wonder of why it was dead. Atop the summits of hills, the depths of foreboding pits, and the curiously positioned fields was nary a soul. No birds sung here, no crickets chirped, and no voices sang. Silence would have reigned here without any contest, save for laughter. A bright, happy laughter often rang out from the world, the only voice to be heard, the only sound to press against the silence.

Pinkie Pie was lying on her back; enjoying a cupcake so tasty she might as well have baked it herself. She took a bite, savored the tremendous flavor of the icing, the light, fluffy texture of the bread, and promptly engulfed the rest. She glanced over at her side, where another sat ready. It was consumed in a similar technique. More cupcakes were scattered about her, with no pests to spoil them, any were perfectly fine to eat. Pinkie patted her stomach, and rose, stretching. How long had she been lying here? She couldn’t remember. If she had to guess, however, it would be about two baker’s dozens ago. That felt about right. She strolled over to the edge of the field and looked over to witness blue, and plenty of it. That’s boring, who needs that much blue? She huffed and looked up; above her was a vast landscape of hills and fields. Much better, but she would need a running jump, lest she find herself in the same place.

Pinkie turned and bounced over to the other end of the spat of grass, squashing a stray cupcake in the process.

“Hmm…still good.” She decided as she licked the rather delectable mess from her hoof.

There was a run, a hop, a skip, a back flip, and a perfect landing. Seeing no reason to pause here, the pony hopped along, looking up to see the small selection of grass high above her, dotted with cupcakes. She should have taken one with her. Chances were that there would be others; in fact, it was pretty certain there would be others waiting for her. After all, this was her mind.

Pinkie began to run, passing a large selection of extravagantly shaped balloons, stopping briefly to pick out a few pieces from a mound of candy, and wading through a normal river, except it seemed to be flowing uphill. Yet, silly her, there was no uphill in this place, only the flat of the ground beneath her hooves. Pinkie was quite content with this now, as there was never a risk of falling or getting hurt; there was only the flat of the ground beneath her, regardless of where it was or where she had been.

She stuck her nose to the air and sniffed once more, the lustrous aroma of freshly baked bread wafted above her. It was not hard to find the origin of the smell, a large selection of rolls and baguettes had been placed in a rather odd formation: the flat ground leading up to a vertical wall that turned into a ceiling. The fourth side was missing, giving her access to the goods inside. Yet there was one quite curious ending to the formation: off the edge of what was now a ceiling was a lump of dirt. No grass, no treats, just dirt. Dirt was fun, she had decided, dirt was good.

Pinkie spent no time moving along the three sides, feeling the world shift around her to ensure she was always on the ground, yet now before her was the dirt. It was too far for her hooves to reach by stretching…it seemed a jump was in order. Pinkie stepped back, measured the distance, disregarded that, and jump as far as she could. Yet she did not land. There was air around her, and she was falling. The mound of dirt and the rest of the world were falling away above her. Had she done something wrong? No, she couldn’t have, it was impossible. She had decided that she did, in fact, own this place. It was hers by right or mental capability; whichever came first.

She landed softly, which she thanked herself for. Still, it was strange that that part of her world would reject her like that. Maybe it was forcing her to keep moving. Not a bad way of doing it. This part of her mind seemed similar, yet the air was not as sweet here. It wasn’t foul, per say, just not as sweet. Yet…there was something else here. Something very familiar, and warmly welcomed to her lonely ears: voices. Pony voices. A wide smile appeared on Pinkie’s face as she galloped over the few hills standing in her way to discover who it was.

“Twilight? Rarity? Applejack? Rainbow? Fluttershy?” she called out, hoping for a reply. Yet none came. The voices were still there, yet the closer she got the more certain she became that they did not belong to her friends. Still, somepony is better than nopony. Pinkie reached the summit of a rather strange hill, and looked over to see somepony she had not beheld in a very long time.

“Sis?” she whispered. There before her was none other than one of her sisters, the grey one to be exact, moving the scattered rocks into one pile Why couldn’t she remember her sister’s name? She hadn’t expected to see any of her family here, but then again, it seemed to make sense that her family would be here.

Pinkie jumped from her perch and landed on the same plane as her sister.

“Sis!” she called out. Her sister halted the rock farming to glance up at her. There was no emotion in her eyes. “Hey! What are you doing here? Oh, wait, of course you would be here. Silly me! I’m guessing our parents are here too? What about our other sister?”

The reply was unexpected. Pinkie spun and hit the ground from the sudden lashing out of her sibling’s hoof. Pinkie rose and winced. What had just happened? She had run up to her sister and gotten hit? Why?

“What’s the matter, Pinkie?” came a familiar voice. Pinkie turned as the tears began to form in her eyes. Rocky was there before her, complete with party hat. “Oh, come now Pinkie, you know you’re not allowed to be sad here.”

“Why?” the pony sniffed, wiping a tear away.

“This is not the part of your mind you are sad. This is the place where you’re happy. Sunshine, candy, grass and happiness, yes?”

“I guess so, but why did my sister hit me?”

“Don’t know.”

“Why is she here?”

“That’s a question you will have to ask yourself. I think normally they lurk elsewhere, but right now the whole family is here in your mind, and if I recall you didn’t part on perfect terms.”

“I wasn’t like them. I didn’t want to live and work on a rock farm forever.”

“Hmm. Think about it. Remember, you can’t be sad here, Pinks. You have to buck up and take it. Save your tears, you’ll need them.

“Ok.” Pinkie managed a weak smile.

“Oh, but I did find out one thing for you. The door leading out is locked, and I’m guessing one of your parents has the key.”

Pinkie frowned at this bit of news, yet did her best to keep a stiff upper lip.

“Oh dear.” Rocky murmured, and began to slide away. Yet it was not faster than Pinkie’s sister, who promptly knocked it over and rolled in into the stack of rocks as Pinkie worked her around the hostile relative.

Regret

This was all wrong. Pinkie, happy as she was to see her family in her own mind, was not expecting a hostile encounter. Her time here had been filled with excitement and happiness. After all, if she truly was not permitted sorrow here, then why not just resort to happiness, especially if it is worthwhile. Everything she loved to eat was in abundance; the world seemed to shift to ensure safe landing, which gave leaping from cliffs a whole new meaning, and a far less painful landing. She was quickly learning how to adapt, and how to almost craft the world around her to her own preferences. Pinkie did not have the ability to change or summon anything, but her lesser whims and desires seemed to be catered to. At least she now knew that she was not alone in this world; her family was here as well, granted, yet her first reunion hadn’t ended as well as she had hoped. Not only had her sister struck her, she had also rolled her guide into the mound of rocks. As if that wasn’t enough, her sister was now in pursuit, for whatever reason.

“Hey, sis! What’s going on? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” Pinkie called back to her sister, who failed to respond in any other way than constant pursuit. Pinkie sighed, she didn’t want to harm her sister in any way, nor did she want to be harmed. Might as well put her mind to good use and loose her assailant.

Pinkie took a sharp turn to bolt towards a maze of inverted fields and pastures. The twisted terrain was against her, however, as large spires of rocks were also present, causing a barrier between her and the end of the chase. She did not know if her sister had the same ability to always be walking upon flat ground as she did, but she doubted that her sister could have anywhere near the amount of fun she could, making the difference, but first the spires. Great towers of sandstone, they appeared to be hundreds of feet in height, smooth sides, and void of all life. They did not belong here, they were alien to the surrounding landscape, so what brought them to bear here? Did her sister have some amount of control over Pinkie’s mind? Was their influence truly as strong as that? She did not believe it… she could not. Either way, might as well obtain some enjoyment out of the monoliths that now stood before her, and perhaps get a chance to outwit her rock-farming sister. Pinkie put on an extra burst of speed, jumped, and smacked into the side of the spire. She quickly righted herself and tried again to rise upon the stone surface, with no avail. The terrain would not accept her, causing her to slide back down again. Strange…she had never encountered this before, and did not wish for it either. Pinkie frowned, looked back to judge the time she had before her sister was upon her, and placed her front hooves upon the formidable stone. Nothing happened. She backed away and attempted to circle around only to be met by another equally as troubling spire. Having to readjust herself was causing her to lose time and close the gap in between her hostile relative.

“Come on! Why won’t you let me up?” She snapped at the sandstone, and kicked it. She made a very irritable set of noises and began to run again. Yet there was no direction that would yield unto her an exit and a way forward into the maze. Every pause cost a second and a yard. Her sister was gaining quickly, and Pinkie wasn’t gambling that it was an apology for the prior unpleasant actions. She was silently thankful that bouncing all over Equestria instead of walking had given her quite the endurance, and vowed to promote it to her friends more, should she see them again. No, she mustn’t think like that; she would find a way out, the door that had been mentioned.

“Ooh…this is no good!” Pinkie muttered upon another dead end. “Think Pinkie, think! What would my friends do here? They would help me out, but they aren’t here to help, so what am I supposed to do? Wait, I’ve been there for my friends when they’ve been in trouble, so what if I think that I’m one of my friends and I have to help them out? Even though I’m me, and I would be helping myself who wouldn’t be me. Does that even work? That’s too confusing. Aah!”

Narrowly avoiding another swipe by her malevolent sister, Pinkie started to back up, focusing on the pony advancing towards her. It was for not, however, as she was only able to take a few steps before she found her back to the wall, trapped and without hope. Her sister wouldn’t actually kill her, would she? She couldn’t… she wouldn’t. Right?

“Wait! Sis! I’m sorry, whatever I did that hurt you, I’m sorry. That’s why you’re doing this right? You’re mad at me?”

Her sister had slowed her pace significantly, but did not hesitate to continue the advance, and made no sign of a reply.

“At least tell me why.” Pinkie’s breath was rapid, her eyes shifted back and forth in a futile effort to determine some means of escape. “Please.”

The grey pony stopped and glared at her pink sister. She was not four feet from her, and it would be so easy, and satisfying, to simply reach out. “Because you left us.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You discovered what a party was and left. You gave us a single glimmer of joy in our meaningless lives of rocks and decided that you had the right to leave. You don’t visit, you don’t send letters, and you never invite us to come visit you. I thought we were supposed to be sisters, and sisters are friends. They talk and visit. What kind of sister are you that you leave us like that?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you, I’m sorry I left the family. I’m sorry I didn’t write or visit.” Pinkie said quickly. Her sister simply shook her head and strode forward another step.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what else to say! I’m sorry!” Pinkie’s emotions were descending to a state of turmoil. Sadness and panic tore themselves through her in uneven bursts and surges.

“Pinkie! It wasn’t our other sister, mother, or father, who came to tell you this. It was me!”

What did that mean, it wasn’t her sister, mother, or father? That she hadn’t hurt them too? She hadn’t thought about how they reacted to her lifestyle, and she hadn’t visited or written because her lifestyle was so very different from them. It was a rather fair theory that they did not approve of her parties and almost chaotic lifestyle. Regardless of that, it was her sister who seemed to be the most angered at her for leaving. Why?

A veil of confusion was lifted, and Pinkie saw clearly. Her sister had taken another step towards her, and as such Pinkie could see into her sister’s eyes. Behind a slender coating of anger were pain and hurt, sorrow, and loneliness. Had her sister truly been that fond of her? She hadn’t realized. She felt the cruel waters of regret seep into her heart and mind. The utter pain of time lost and damage done without amends.

“Sister” Pinkie reached out a hoof and placed it on her grey sister’s shoulder. “I am sorry I left you.”

The latter shuddered and retreated a pace. A smile flittered upon her face briefly before vanishing once again.

“Thank you. The others have their own reasons to pursue you. I do not know them.”

“Can I avoid them?”

“It’s your mind. Can you? If you don’t deal with them, you have to live with them.”

Before Pinkie’s eyes her sister vanished. It was not a slow fading, but a quick flash and an empty space. The pink pony sighed and turned. The spires had disappeared along with her sister, opening the passage forward into the maze. She took a breath and moved forward. It was likely that she had another family reunion waiting for her in there, but her sister was right: if she didn’t deal with them now, she would have to live with them, perhaps for the rest of her life, and what is a life lived with pain? Not a pleasant one, to be sure.

A Maze of Challenging Strengths

This is a bad time to be lost I wonder what my friends are up to this is a strange place why would my sister hate me like that am I going the right way I am going the right way I am most certainly not going the right way I wonder if there are any more cupcakes here that looks bad how could I forget her name that is another CAKE wait...not cake.

Such was the stream of unaltered, pure thought of Pinkie as she wandered through the mental maze in a forlorn manner. Yet she was not always forlorn, as the mind quickly changed her opinion of how she felt at that time and place. Regardless of how quickly her thoughts would spin away from her to be replaced by other, far more annoying, thoughts it was clear to her that she was failing miserably at her vengeful sister's challenge put to her to somehow navigate a maze constructed to test her intuition and sense of direction. To find the correct passages amongst a multitude of their brethren was a hardship by itself, but it was the fact of the matter that the passages were not marked, not signaled, no hints as to where she should go were bestowed upon her to instill her with a sense of direction, or hope. Every turn yielded a new outlook on life or perhaps the answer to some great question that had been pondered by those of higher learning for ages and would for ages to come, as this was the mind of Pinkie Pie, and the works of great minds, or the delicate underlying subtext of ancient tomes were lost to her, and would not breach the walls of her mind to be relayed to those who would spend their years pursuing them only to find themselves earning a long and well deserved rest among the dust of centuries past amongst those forgotten by time and blood. Pinkie, while enraptured by the cascade of thought, had a single greater drive to discover the path to salvation from her current antagonist. To be said she was simple minded, however, was folly, as this isn't the right passage either why are some darker than others my hooves hurt and I want to be out hey that isn't a flower why can't I get this right so this is what it means should I tell my friends when I get out or not I should that is a terrible idea I should have another party.

Through the stress of constant disappointment and the ache her hooves now felt from the miles she had wandered throughout the maze, Pinkie was forced to pause for a moment. She wondered for what span of time she had been wandering the maze, yet time bore no meaning here, so the question fell away from her, unanswered and useless. What was her sister's game? Perhaps there was no correct passage, and she was nothing more than a fool, wandering blindly for eternity until madness took her into its false comfort. Yet Pinkie, as trusting as she was, could not bring herself to accept this. If there was no hope, there would be no challenge to rise above. She had lived this time and time again, so what gain was there in giving up? The earth pony could not think of any. So she was not giving up, fine. She could "not give up" her life away in this place, and it wouldn't do her any good. Another frown and a lower lip bitten, this was not good. Yeah, we'll obviously it wasn't good; she had that figured out already.

"I don't know sis, but I want to say I'm sorry and that I really mean it."

Nothing.

"Can you just say something to me? I’m lonely.”

“You expect me to talk to you?” her sister’s voice rang out above the walls of the maze. “You talk to yourself all the time, which is why you are so very alone. Any time you shut up is a blessing, Pinkie.”

“Well sometimes all you need is yourself.”

“Then why do you want to talk?”

“I said sometimes, not always.”

“Pinkie…what is this to you? A game? You trapped us in here with you, and now you must face each of us to be able to reach your precious friends again.”

“So are you all going to be outside in the real world when I escape.”

“Somehow I doubt you will escape, but yeah we will be. Oh, why am I even talking to you? Stop messing with my mind.”

“You mean my mind?” Pinkie gleefully replied.

“Yes, I mean no…this is only going to get harder Pinkie, don’t expect any favors.”

With that her sister’s voice fell away to leave Pinkie to bask in her solitude. Yet her sister had helped her more than she had meant to and as such had supplied the challenged with a very useful hint: that it was only going to get harder. This was lost upon the pink pony, who frowned yet again when the conversation ended. It wasn’t exactly what she had wanted, that bit of banter, but it had been encouraging to her to know that she was being watched over, even if it was rather malicious; but she would take what she could get. After all, it’s not every day that you get lost in a maze this ridiculous. Pinkie stopped to take a moment to truly think about this maze, and just how ridiculous it really was: every turn would change both direction and thought, it had a wide assortment of strange passages that were intended to be scary, but scary wasn’t really Pinkie’s weakness, per say, but then again it seemed to her that this maze wasn’t supposed to prey on her weaknesses. This was a maze of strength for her, a maze based around the odd quirks and talents that made her who she was: Pinkie Pie, the Element of Laughter and the bane of all things shadowy or sad. She, as her friends pointed out on several occasions, very random at times and what was this maze if not random? The dark did not waver her as she strode through it and gave her friends support in their time of turmoil is several occasions. She hated to be alone, yet she could thank her sister for some amount of company, even if it was just the company of a sibling who had been consumed by an internal feud. In all, this was actually a pretty nice place to be lost in.

“No! Stop being impressed by my maze! Be scared already!” her sister was back in vocal form.

“But I like it!” Pinkie shouted back.

“Well stop it!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not supposed to make you pleased!”

“Oh…but it’s such a great maze!”

“Too bad!”

Pinkie, who still hadn’t moved from the spot where she had halted, took a moment to think of a good reply. None came to her. Five seconds of deep contemplation passed.

“Wait! How can you hear what I’m thinking?” Pinkie asked.

“I…don’t actually know.” The voice responded. “All of a sudden I could hear you think. This is your mind, you tell me.”

“That’s strange, it wasn’t like that before. This just means I can talk to you all the time!”

Pinkie stared ahead. How about a hint?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“Well at least it sounds like you’re cheering up!”

With that she lost the conversation and was plunged into silence. Improvement at last, and hopefully something for her sister to think about before Pinkie escaped the maze. Perhaps it wouldn’t be much harder after all.

Something clicked, and the wheels turned. Harder, becoming harder and wouldn’t be so hard after all. To her left was another innocent passage. In front of her was a trail with many brambles and briars. On the right was one of those strange mists that lurked close to the ground in a manner most unpleasant. She had just come from a path lined with flowers and a fresh smelling scent. So…if it was to become harder for her, then she had no choice but to take CUPCAKE! Fifteen seconds passed, as she felt that it was necessary to savor the taste. Anyway, she had no choice but to take the left hand trail and hope for some luck. Some random luck, that is. A deep breath, and a short turn of direction.

“Time to find out if this I really am selfish.” Pause “I really am selfish. I was being selfish. How? What was I being selfish about? I always try to give my friends what they want and make them happy by sharing laughter and smiles. The other one was angry because I left, and now I’m selfish? It’s not that I’m selfish in general, this sister is mad at me for this instead of any of the others.”

Pinkie reached another intersection, and took bearings. She could continue and keep the same thought, or choose from the passages that stretched and wove away from her. One held another white mist, and the other was Dusk. No…she needed some thorns; that was the next step. Passing by the presented options, she moved forward. At least this maze was multiple choice, made it a bit easier. She never was very good at essays. Aha, a trail lined with thorns and other unpleasant aspects…perfect.

“Ok, sis. I really am selfish and…because I’m generous. I’m selfish because I’m generous?”

A peal of laughter echoed above her. “I did say it was only going to get harder, didn’t I?”

Redemption

Pinkie continued to wander the maze of her mind, well part of it at least. So far her sister’s riddle had eluded her for the full meaning, but like any puzzle you had to put the pieces together before the picture would be seen for what it is intended to be. So far Pinkie had found out that her sister was mad at her because she was selfish for being generous through her own interests. Just when it seemed that this maze was going to make some amount of sense, it became more complicated. How could being generous make her selfish? For that matter, what did her sister mean with “her own interests”? Pinkie had already made several attempts to talk to her sister again, but the tormentor stayed silent and watchful. Pinkie turned and walked backwards for a time, as to remember where she had been and recall what she had done.

“Oki doki, so I passed by the flowers, and the dirt, and the torns. Heh, torns. I guess thorns could make things torn. So there were the thorns, and what next? Let’s see I need to go down through the mist and Dusk. HINT PLEASE!”

No hint came.

“Fine then, I’ll just find a hint.”

There was no hint for the pony that was not already apparent to her. She needed to travel down the path of mist and Dusk. But which came first? Neither really seemed to be harder than the other one, and both were quite unfriendly. Figures that she would have to go down a path that wasn’t friendly. There was no room in her mind for things that were unfriendly, and yet she guessed there was, as her vengeful family was in here with her. Well, it was up to her to help them and HEY! Who put that wall there? Anyhow, it was her job to ensure that they remained friends, or became friends again. Could family be friends? Was that something different altogether? Curious.

Ahead lay a crossroad between two towering sandstone walls. One path heralded the curious and foreboding mist, while within the other lurked Dusk. Pinkie stared at the decision before her. There was no clear answer as to which was the right path. Clearly this took proper deduction and an educated means of deciding.

“Eenie, meanie, minie, mo. I choose this one.”

Slowly Pinkie eased herself into the entrance of the path of Dusk. One hoof, then two, then her mane and head, finally…this is a great place to have a party isn’t it? I just love parties, and ponies, and smiles. Dang it…ooh, another cupcake.

Fifteen minutes later Pinkie had arrived at another crossroad of the same conundrum. One path led into the mist, while the other housed Dusk. Regardless of her flawless methods of choosing that she relied on previously, she had guessed incorrectly and lost time. Did time even matter here? She figured she would find out eventually. Things seemed to work out that way. Pinkie walked into the mists, the lukewarm fingers of low-hanging cloud petted her, stroking her fur and mane. A couple of times something very real and solid and not cloudish moved past one of her hooves, yet the mist did not yield to give a view. Nothing hindered her passage, however, so she pressed on more timidly than normal.

“I am selfish because I am generous through my own interests, which are parties because I never stopped to think what others wanted. Wait, that whole thing is the hint? Sounds more like an answer.” Pinkie sighed though as she realized what it meant: her sister never really like parties. She had forced her parties and things she liked to do upon her sister without even asking whether it was becoming tedious or boring. She may have had a good time at first, but after the twentieth celebration she was tired. She wanted to do something else, but Pinkie was too selfish to realize it. She was too busy being caught up on making others feel happy they way she felt happy that she didn’t realize when somepony wasn’t having fun anymore, and as she stated: making your friends sad is no fun at all… or something like that. She should get Twilight to write some of these down for her.

“After all, I’m brilliant. I wouldn’t be surprised if…” the words simply died. The path of Dusk lay before her, and beyond that an exit. She wasn’t exactly sure what could be added, but it was better to know everything before seeing if she couldn’t free her sister from this mindset.

Darkness took her as she strode into Dusk a second time. It was different though, her mind didn’t shift ideas, and she wasn’t experiencing any new developments. Instead, there was a voice. Distant, yet the farther in she strode the louder it became.

“Do you know what caused it?” it was Fluttershy’s voice. Fluttershy!

“Fluttershy!” Pinkie yelled and ran forward towards the growing voice.

“We don’t know for certain, but we suspect it was the events of last week.” She didn’t know that voice. It sounded serious.

“So what happens now?” Twilight, that was Twilight.

“We give her medicine, and see what happens. Nothing is certain.” That same serious voice again.

“I remember Pinkie once helped carry me to a hospital when I hurt my wing. I always hoped to return the favor, but that it would be to, you know, a hospital or something like that. Not this place. I’m getting creeped out just being here.”

Rainbow Dash…her friends were so close.

“Ah reckon we’ll come on around again soon enough. If ya’ll are alright with that.”

Applejack!

“Anytime you want to visit is fine, and we will keep you posted on any new developments.” There was that strange, serious voice again.

“Don’t go! I’m coming!”

Pinkie burst from the path of Dusk and flat onto her face. The maze slowly sunk into the ground behind her. The sky was blue with pink, stationary bubbles and an assortment of hills and mountains. Upside-down platforms and canyons could be seen in the distance. She was still in her mind. She wished for a cupcake, and found two. At leas she was in control again. Her sister stood in front of her.

“Sis, I’m sorry I didn’t notice you weren’t happy. You’re right; I was selfish and still am. I want to do what you want to. What do you want to do? Anything, and I will never mention a party.”

Her sister smiled, nodded, and glanced back up, happiness in her eyes.

“Thank you. Find the way out, find your friends.”

She faded away, free from a hostile mindset and with anger purged.

Contemplation

The next several moments were filled in the ecstasy of control. Control over her mind, and the regained ability to walk up virtually any surface regardless of which way was “up” to her at the current moment. Here, Pinkie thrived. Thrived in her joyous spirit, that had also seemed to return upon the completion of her last challenge. Her sisters had been redeemed in her mind, and freed her from regret and inner pain. While Pinkie could not help but celebrate her circumstance, it was also a time of thought. She now had grasped a slightly better understanding of what her family was agitated at her for. One sister was upset because Pinkie had left, and her sister took it rather personally, and the other had been mad because all Pinkie did when it came to sharing time was party. Her sister didn’t want to party, she wanted…well Pinkie actually never asked what she wanted to do. That would most likely come back around at some point, but when it did she would be ready to embrace it in a loving manner that would end peacefully and with shared happiness. Hopefully.

From the surface of a vertical, grassy cliff, she lay down and pondered about what to do next. The maze had been straightforward, in a really non-straightforward type of way, and had led her here. Surely there must be a sign of some sort, but there wasn’t and her name wasn’t Shirley. It was Pinkie, Pinkie Pie for short. The name her friends called her, and she responded to. That was the other thing, why hadn’t her friends heard her? For that matter, how could she hear them? It made some amount of sense that immediate outside influences could make a direct impact, perhaps even an auditory one. A cupcake had conveniently appeared in front of her. It was small, round, covered in pink frosting, and had small pieces of what looked to be peppermint but more likely tasted like butterscotch. Pinkie sniffed the small cake. It smelled like spring rain. Another one, this time blue, appeared next to the pink one. It was a bit flatter than the other, and consisted of heavier bread than the light, fluffy bread of the pink one. The rims of each crest of blue frosting were capped in a soft caramel and this one smelled of apple cider. It was no surprise, although she had left it up to chance.

“Where am I, Dashie?” she asked the cupcake. “What makes you scared?”

Rainbow Dash wasn’t frightened easily, and there were few places in Equestria that could scare the resistant Pegasus. That number shrunk once she took into account whether the blue pony would ever even get near them. Ok...add one, Rainbow had been to the spa at least once.

Ever voice that wafted towards her during her path through Dusk she had recognized, save one: the odd voice her friends consulted. The one who talked about “the events of last week” and other random things. They said she was random? Last week had been fine, thanks. What had she done last week? Hmm…that was a mystery for another time. Actually, no it wasn’t. Last week she hadn’t done much of anything important. Several days she helped out the cakes, had laughs with her friends, watched Twilight work some new magic, helped Fluttershy with feeding the animals, and stayed out of Applejack’s way while they worked on their silo. Yeah, that stallion, whoever it was, didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Even so…what were they talking to him about anyway? Giving medicine and Dashie was saying something about helping me out.” She glanced at the blue cupcake. “What if they’ve replaced me? Oh, I’ve been in here too long and now I’ve lost them as friends? They’ve found some other pony to host their parties and make them laugh. I wasn’t fast enough.”

Pinkie already knew being sad wasn’t an option here, but eating was. She munched down the blue cupcake and thought about her friends. Had they really abandoned her that soon? Maybe time moved differently here. Perhaps she had been out for months, or even years. Perhaps they had simply moved on with their lives.

“Why would they visit me? Or talk about me if I wasn’t important to them anymore?” She pondered aloud. The warm air comforted her and a sweet-smelling breeze tickled her senses. “Unless…they want to remember me. What if…I’m dead?”

The other cupcake was left uneaten as Pinkie walked towards the sheer face of grass in front of her; she crossed onto it and stepped on some sort of pastry, but paid it no heed. Was she dead? How else could she be within her own mind? Why would that scare Rainbow, though? Rainbow may be sad at her untimely demise, by whatever means, but it would scare her. Unless…

“Maybe I’m in one of those places where ponies go before they are about to be buried…oh, what’s it called…a museum! No, not a museum…monastery? I bet Twilight could tell me. Either way, I hope they found my will in Sugarcube Corner. I plainly stated that I was to be turned into a delicious batter and served to my friends so I could be with them forever. On second though, I hope they don’t find that. I hope I don’t find whatever possessed me to make that my will here in my mind. Maybe just bury me somewhere where I can see the sunrise. That sounds good. But how will they know to do that? Surely they know me well enough that they wouldn’t actually eat me. Would they?”

Upon the realization that Pinkie may actually be, in fact, rather dead, it dawned on her that she no longer had to hurry through her mind. It was, all things considered, not too shabby a place to be. Spend eternity eating cupcakes and candy while she played on upside-down hills and platforms. Maybe she could find Rocky again, or find the nicer versions of her family once she had freed them all. That seemed like a good plan.

“But what if I’m not fully dead yet?” Pinkie scrunched her forehead and released. This felt good, and was repeated several more times. “What if I’m just partially dead and they are trying to get me back? They really are good friends.”

Partially dead, with the chance of somehow reviving, this was a good plan as far as Pinkie was concerned. True, she had no proof of anything yet, but when was proof needed anyways?

“By looking for clues?” The memory of Twilight’s voice came forth in her mind.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Twilight. I should have some sort of proof.”

“Proof of what, Pinkie.”

Pinkie’s view shot left, from where the voice had come.

“Mom.”

Thought Process

“Mom?”

There could be no question here, in Pinkie’s mind. Her mother stood before her, calm and collected. Pinkie had not yet come to a conclusion of what her mother had against her, her own daughter. The concept of her own death had been substantial in controlling all thought from the time she had departed the maze. Her instant response was to discover some reason and hope that it would be adequate, but no answer came to mind that seemed plausible. Before her was a figure who was supposed to show constant and unyielding love, but here she was inside of her mind, waiting for Pinkie to overcome her sisters and acclimatize herself to the oncoming challenges.

“It’s…um…great to see you.” Pinkie smiled weakly.

Her mother, in turn, replied with a stern look from behind her half-moon glasses; the look was similar to the looks Pinkie would have received after she had stepped out of line.

“Pinkie Pie, I’m surprised at you, making such a mess of yourself.”

“Huh?”

“Look at you: your hair, your job, your obsession with sugar…do you even remember to brush your teeth anymore?”

“I try to remember.”

“After all we did for you as a filly. Unbelievable. Here we thought you were learning from us, from our good example as parents and ponies in society: honorable profession, sober lifestyle, and responsible in all that we do.”

“I didn’t forget what you taught me, I just…did you call me Pinkie Pie?”

“That’s what you decided was a better name, was it not?”

“Not a better name, mom, just a nickname.”

“Do you even know the significance of your name? The great ponies from our past whose great feats helped shape the Pie family as it is today?”

Pinkie avoided her mother’s stern gaze. The action was far from unnoticed.

“Pinkie…I am shocked, yes shocked, that you would forget who you are so quickly. Forget it for what? Cupcakes? Some laughs? Or was is that you simply were too good for us farmers, that you needed a different life and decided to abandon the life you were born into, ashamed of your own heritage.”

“I’m not ashamed at all! Why would I ever be ashamed of my family? I love you guys and everything you do!”

“Really? How did the Pie family earn our rock farm? Don’t worry if you don’t know it, it is only the most famous story of our family line and set the foundation for our entire heritage for generations.”

Dang it Pinkie, why hadn’t she paid better attention during those evenings? She must have heard this story a thousand times and by a thousand she meant about fifteen. Wait…that’s it!

“We earned the rock farm by paying the landlord fifteen times more than it was worth!”

“Sit.” Her mother pointed a hoof at a nearby stump. Where did that stump come from? Stumps had no place in her mind.

“Aww…mom!”

“Sit, Pinkie! Don’t make me start counting!”

Pinkie sat, pouting. Her mother looked down at her from the rims of her glasses.

“Many years ago the first Pie, Ashbeard Pie, came to this land looking for his fortune, but found only rocks. Now many ponies would scorn the rocks, claiming that no bits could come from rocks, but Ashbeard Pie said otherwise. He said otherwise mainly because he was completely insane, but that is beside the point. He said there were bits a plenty hidden in the rocks, you just needed to know where to look, and how to rock…farm. Now then, Ashbeard began the first rock farm and took only half of the available land, and things went terribly. Turns out there wasn’t any money in rock farming, as no one needed rocks. Yet across a lake, now just a dustbowl, was a field. This field flourished under the careful eyes of its caretakers: the Winds. Each field owner, Ashbeard Pie of the rocks, and Glider Wind of the grass, coveted the other field for their own purposes. So they settled on a bet: a rowboat race. Whichever pony could row down to the end of the lake and back to the dock first would claim both fields. Can you guess who won, Pinkie?”

“Ashbeard Pie.”

“Tsk tsk.” Her mother shook her head. “You honestly believe that your crazy ancestor could even figure out which way was forward? He didn’t get three strokes out before the boat flipped. The Winds just claimed their prize and didn’t even finish the race. Then came the worst famine ever witnessed by pony eyes and the grassy field and lake turned into fields of rock. The Winds sold back the land to the Pies for a fraction of the original worth and left to form one of the most successful real estate companies in Equestria. We, however, got the rock farm and have been working it ever since. That’s how you got your middle name, Pinkie.”

“Diane?”

“Don’t tell me you changed that too.”

“No, but I don’t see how Diane is connected to that story.”

“Weren’t you listening? No wonder you started partying, could keep your facts straight. Now I have to tell it again.”

“No, please! I get it!”

One very boring and well-explained lecture passed.

“Do you understand now, Pinkie? Sit up straight!”

Pinkie, who up until now had been lying over backwards on the stump, slipped off and landed with a plop upon the grassy ground. Maybe it would get better…perhaps her mother constructed a maze for her to escape.”

“Pinkie Pie, you don’t know what you have done, have no idea of what you have thrown away for your mess of a life.”

That was a bit harsh.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I abandoned my family for my interests.”

“You never could listen, Pinkie. You harvested the wrong rocks on the wrong days and would miss meals. Now you miss my meaning.”

“I’m sorry, mom. Is there anything I can do? Tell me, I’m listening.”

“Not so happy go-lucky now, are you? Very well, Pinkie let’s see if you can listen or not. I seem to have lost a few things around here. You seem to be able to find things well enough. Can you do that?”

“Oki doki loki! What do you need me to find?”

“You’ve been told, now go get them.”

“Wha…can I have a hint?”

“You were already given three.”

“WHAT?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, young lady. Do as your told; off you go.”

Pinkie slouched away. Her own mind and she was doing chores? What kind of mind was this that she had to go do chores? Didn’t make sense. Wasn’t fun. Oh, she seemed to have just crossed over a cliff without realizing it. Problem was, she didn’t just step over onto the cliff face like normal. In fact, she was certain she hadn’t been moving this fast previously. The ground steadily grew in size and had the appearance of being quite hard and not something Pinkie was very inclined to collide with at a high speed, as she was currently traveling. That spat of ground, however, did not end Pinkie’s fall in an unpleasant manner. In fact, it didn’t end it at all; she came close, and found herself falling next what used to be the ground. Above her was the cliff face she had been falling off previously. Such a curious place, her mind seemed to be. Yet it seemed just right for her.

Author's Note

The story of how the Pie family obtained their rock farm was based off of an experience my own family had, where we lost a substantial amount of land in a rowboat race way back in the day.

Challenge, Or Not

The end of Pinkie’s rather tedious fall was not so soft and cushy as she had hoped or expected. In fact, the mound of brambles was far from anything she had hoped for. It took her several moments to compose herself and work her way out from the unpleasant mess, becoming very irritated that there were now thorns protruding from her tail, which had become not unlike the style of a pincushion from the ordeal. A few twitches and pulls later her tail was as soft and untainted as ever. So...what was the plan? She had to find some stuff? Taking a look around, Pinkie frowned. The towering spires in this area were all rock, and as such would not allow for her to simply shift the world around her to walk up them. Most of the level she was currently positioned on was grass, no flowers, but grass was always welcomed. She pondered over her mothers words while starting forward upon the new area. She was required to find some object for her, right? Yet, she had no idea what she was supposed to find, regardless of the statement from her dear, sweet mother that she had been given three hints already. Just another test, right? Too bad Twilight wasn’t here; she would be good at tests like this. In any case, her mother didn’t seem as cross with her as her sisters were, oh my no. Although the lecture hardly seemed necessary, wears a pony down, having to listen to a lecture twice in one day. Twice, once is more than enough.

-Pinkie-

Pinkie’s hoof stopped in mid-air. Slowly the hoof was lowered to the ground and she continued forward, glancing about.

-Pinkie-

Without halting, she took note of her surroundings, several spires of stone off to her left, the sheer rock cliff face that she had just descended from to her right, and a hill of some sort in front of her. Even so…

-Pinkie-

No worries, it was most likely just another one of her friends calling out to her, or something here that knew her name. She was not just a pony that every single thing in here should know, they did know her as if she was a part of them, which was more or less true considering her present circumstance. Even so, within this place, the recesses of her mind, the strong connection that she had previously grasped with her hooves was slipping away, no longer could she summon good things to eat with merely a thought, and no longer were the mountains and cliffs all accepting her hoofstep, turning the world upon itself so that she may travel wherever, in whatever manner she chose. The sky had no undergone no change of significance, and the pink bubble clouds seemed to keep their static nature regardless of where she had traveled. Perhaps she was close to leaving her mind, close to reality and as such she would lose her power here gradually.

“Note too self, ask Twilight if there is a way to enter my mind again.” Pinkie declared to herself, halting. Ooh, a comb.

There was no mistaking it for what it was, Pinkie, while having little use for them herself, had witness Rarity’s vast collection of combs of all shapes and colors to know a comb when she saw one. Did she even own a comb? Well, listen to one’s own mind as the saying went, or whatever. “Note too self, ask Twilight about saying.”

She smiled and clenched the comb in her teeth.

“I’m blind!” she screamed as the world went dark, and unusually soft, around her. “Help! Blind pony! Unblind me, unblind me!” Her nose connected with something unmoving, and rather solid. Pinkie toppled over back onto the grass, her now flat hair parted down the middle to reveal a spire before her.

“Ow, that hurt, spire!” rubbing her nose, she rose to have her hair fall once again over her eyes. The comb was nowhere to be found. “My hair…”

The fluffy, pink, mane was now flat, and still pink. She shook her head around to no avail. How strange, it was as if she was a filly again, with this manecut. Pinkie rubbed her nose one final time before continuing on, glancing about for the comb. The comb, however, was nowhere to be found. How strange, upon thinking back to her childhood memories she could have sworn the comb that had lay upon the ground only moments ago had been at her house, in the rock farm, all those years ago.

-Pinkie-

“Hello? Rarity?”

-You must hurry, the others are waiting-

“You mean my friends? Wait…Applejack?”

-Do you consider you to be a friend to yourself?-

“…What?”

-Beware Pinkie-

The odd voice faded. Each time it had spoken she had heard a different voice, yet with the same guttural tone. How strange this place was, this part in particular, random, like her, with just a hint of CLIFF! CLIFF! In her blessed stupor Pinkie found herself at the edge of a sizable cliff; the stone prevented her from stepping over onto it, and below lay nothing. Or perhaps it was mist. Either way, it was rather white and shimmery. Pinkie cranked her neck around to see behind her, decided it was too uncomfortable, and turned around. A tree had appeared before her, across the way, swaying regardless of the lack of wind. She trotted over to it, tripping on a root on the way, and looked up at the tree. The tree, in turn, looked down upon the pony, a quizzical expression upon its barky eyes and nest-filled mouth. A hat, not unlike her father’s sat upon its semi-bare branches.

“You…who are you?” the tree rasped out.

“I’m Pinkie Pie! Who are you?”

“I’m a tree.”

“Hello Mr. Tree! What are you doing here in my mind?”

The tree blinked, a subtle movement that was very easy to miss, and shifted its branches around, moving the hat further away. “I suppose you could tell me, it seems something you should know.”

“Actually, I’ve found my mind is full of surprises! What fun would it be if I remembered everything?”

“Peaceful?” the tree offered. Fair enough.

“So…I don’t suppose you know what I’m looking for?”

“Looking for?” the tree rasped again.

“My mom sent me to get some items for her here.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

“No…well…maybe. Ooh, that’s hard. Can I have that hat upon your…branches?”

“This hat? I suppose not.”

“Oh, why not?” Pinkie huffed, pouting.

“I did not place it there, and do not steal what is not mine.”

“That’s good. So whose is it?”

“The small bird that lives inside my mouth fetched it and put it atop me. I do not care for it, but it’s not my decision.”

“Why not? It’s your head.”

“My branches, if you please.” The tree moaned and blinked again. “What does ail me is that behind the nest, down in my throat, a branch has become lodged. If you remove it I will give you the hat.”

“Ok, so how do I get to it?” Pinkie inquired, attempting to climb up to the tree’s mouth.

“Like this.” A large branch caught Pinkie underneath her tail, carrying her up and into the maw of the tree. She toppled in and the tree closed its mouth.

It was very dark within the tree’s mouth. So what would happen if she was eaten within a being within her own mind? Who knows? An interesting experience she may have to try sometime, after she asked Twilight. How was she supposed to find this branch if she couldn’t even see her hoof in front of her face. Pinkie winced slightly as her hoof connected with her eye.

“I wish it was bright in here.” She moped.

A light appeared before Pinkie, causing her to squint and cover her eyes with a hoof partially. Yet her eyes adjusted quickly enough, allowing her to see the inside of the tree. Not bad, this tree was doing very well for itself. It even had an original Vincent Van Mane in here. Now where was this branch, and what was the creaking noise?

She glanced down. She sat upon a branch, wedged in between the walls of the tree. Below the branch, as the light illuminated, seemed to be a pool of some sort, twisting and turning about. A few bones and feathers were mixed into the swirling vortex. She gulped and attempted to find the mouth of the tree. The mouth was nowhere in sight, and the nest had fallen into the pool as well upon her entrance. The small ball of light hovered before Pinkie Pie silently, adjusting its positioning as to better illuminate her view whenever she turned her gaze upon something else. Not that there was much to turn her gaze upon, being the inside of a tree.

“Well, I found your branch.” She yelled out.

The tree did not respond.

“How am I supposed to get this thing out? If I move it, I’ll fall into whatever that is.” She asked the light, which didn’t respond. The small bones resurfaced and disappeared once more below her.

“Say, I wonder if there’s anything that I could use in there.” She peered into the waters below her, the light plunging into the liquid, causing the tree to shudder.

“There’s a…what is that, circling around?” She draped herself over the branch, looking deeper into the vortex. It was a bottle, with some rolled up paper within. How odd. It stayed within its own cycle, tossing and turning around just underneath the surface, yet never breaching. The light rose, passing through it as it retreated back to Pinkie.

Pinkie watched the still illuminated bottle as it bobbed just out of her reach. She had tried swallowing a bottle once, didn’t work well. This tree couldn’t be too happy about it being in here. Yet there was something ominous about those waters. The light began to grow dimmer; her branch creaked and groaned underneath. She passed a hoof over the underside of the branch to feel several cracks beginning to form. Time was of the essence, yet the essence of time was no good; with a breath she stretched and plunged her hoof down into the water. It went numb instantly, tingling as she witnessed bits of fur fall off, and small trickles of blood enter the water. The bottle drew near. With one clean motion she swept it up and withdrew her hoof, which had turned raw and red. The tree moaned and ached as it opened its mouth, reached a long branch in and withdrew Pinkie Pie.

“Your mother fed me that bottle. I had hoped you would find it.” It rasped at the pony, who was, in turn, examining the object.

“Fed it to you? Why?”

“Makes it a challenge.” The tree inhaled, a long, drawn-out process, “You did not think it would get any easier, did you?”

“Actually, that was pretty easy.”

“Oh…I suppose that those as young as you have developed a more advanced definition of what is challenging or not. For me, holding onto my leaves in the winter is quite the challenge.”

“That makes sense. After all…leaves to tend to…leaf!” Pinkie giggled. The tree blinked again.

Pinkie laughed again at her joke, as she unrolled the roll of paper within the bottle. Her smile fell, the paint of her eyes mixing to form something more somber and solemn.

“My…birth certificate.” She whispered to nopony in particular. A small bit of wind and memory came floating by, rustling the branches and her still-flat mane. She felt the cold of the rock farm, the unrelenting labor, long hours of silence save for the clink as one rock hit another and the occasional chatter of some new client, come to buy stone, often to build headstones for cemeteries or perhaps a memorial to somepony time loved too much to forget. When she perished, when the rock farm finally claimed her, there would be no memorial, no fancy headstone to mark her fall from life and into the chaos of the unknown. Yet, for all this, why did she long to go back to the rock farm and continue the work she had no true desire for? What corner of her soul did those memories visit? What beings of desire stirred from their long slumber to reawaken the call for rocks? The tree had placed the hat upon her head, and when she looked up, the tree was just a tree. No eyes to be seen or mouth to be heard. The tree’s branches were bare, the leaves collapsed upon the ground. She felt longing for her past and the grass began to recede into the ground, leaving no more than mere wisps.

“I see you had no trouble finding my tokens. I knew you wouldn’t.” her mother appeared from behind the tree.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Pinkie?”

“Why did you give me these? I feel strange.”

“Happy, strange?”

“Not happy, but not sad. Something else.”

“Pinkie…Pinkie…I know how you feel. But do you understand what has happened to you?”

“I want to work on the rock farm again.”

“And…”

“And…be part of the family again, as you see it.”

Her mother frowned. “You don’t see it that way?”

“I am always a part of the family, even if I am a bit different. I mean, I know I’m a bit random, as my friends have pointed out, but I’m still a friend.”

“I just thought…when you left…”

“That I was abandoning you? I would never do that, silly!”

“No, Pinkie, it’s that I feel that because you chose such a different path that I failed you as a parent.”

Pinkie wrapped her hooves around her mother. “Aw, Mom; you were the best mom any pony could ever ask for! You never failed me.”

The latter smiled and wiped a tear from behind her glasses. The hat, bottle and paper began to fade, her mother with them. Pinkie felt her hair begin to rise. It made her think of baking; it made her hungry. The grass had gone.

“Oh, Pinkie!” her mother called out as she continued to vanish. “You might be wondering why you don’t have much control over your mind anymore! It’s because you’re close to the walls of this state of mind, and being too close to another means that they begin to mix! Just to help you out!”

“Thanks, Mom! Is Dad here too?”

“He is, you should meet him soon. Fairwell, my filly, and come visit me sometime!”

Her mother faded away, her hair had returned to its usual state of being, and the world around her had turned to rock. The wind began to pick up, the pink bubbles in the sky were gone and the sky had lost a touch of the vivid blue that had marked it so. One final family member, and then she would be free from this. Yet, her mother didn’t say “the walls of her mind”, she said “the walls of this state of mind.” Another state of mind? She couldn’t think of being anything else besides herself, happy and cheerful. What else was there for her to be?

Wishful Thinking

The sky had turned from its static blue to a metallic grey. A chilly wind, usually reserved for the month of harvest, had swept down from some unknown height to caress the landscape of Pinkie’s joyous mind. The trees bid farewell to orange leaves and failing branches, the birds had gone, and no sweet morsel was to be found upon the barren ground as the earth pony strode along someplace she had known all too well and yet had never dreamed of. This place, her mind, stood cold and solemn; the tall walls of stone limited her movements as she moved along. Fear was not present, nor was anxiety. She knew that if she traveled back the path she had set upon there would be green grass, a vivid, blue sky with pink bubbles, flowers and candy playing with her sense of smell, and all manner of surfaces to bound upon for her own enjoyment. Her mind wished her to be happy, to return to her realm of comfort and peace. Yet the dark path before her existed within her for a reason she always knew and could not speak if she tried. There was no gravel here, nor grass, but a path of clean, flat shale. Her hooves played with sound as they clopped along the ground, the walls enjoying the symphony echoed them across. Pinkie paid no heed. She replayed her journey here through her mind: an imaginary friend helped her along. She met and made amends with her first sister by apologizing, suffering through a maze of wonder and shattered thought with the next, and finally freeing her mother from a sense that she had been failed. Her father remained. Having experienced the feelings of her family, it was clear that the final redemption could be anything. Yet for a figure as static and stoic as her father, it was a fair assumption that the challenge would not be, when she encountered it, completely unexpected in its nature.

The grey walls loomed, silent and watching, above her: a drop of color in a sea of flavorless emotion. The echoes had, by this time, become bored with resounding the same repeated sound, and had left do find something else. She was alone in the silence, a feeling that even here she was unfamiliar with. In Pinkie’s world, the true world, she had her friends. Within her ever-confusing mind she had the regrets of loved ones and her own internal pleasures. This seemed enough to keep her entertained, perhaps for eternity. Yet it would be impossible to know if this was enough for eternity without having experienced it herself. Of course, she had experienced eternity, but that is a story for another time.

The canyon she wandered within began to shrink, the meaningless cliffs slowly growing closer. This was not lost upon Pinkie, who dropped her stupor and began to trot, anticipating the end of the canyon, and perhaps her journey. Each length passed reminded her of some struggle that she had overcome, somehow. It did not matter where, just that it had happened. Whether it was nothing more than saying she was sorry, to stopping Discord and wielding the Elements of Harmony. As the walls closed in, the achievements became greater, until it was a struggle to even pass them, as if she walked upon some challenge or pattern that did not wish her to pass. Yet…at last!

“Pinkie.”

“Dad.” There was no surprise in her tone. She had known that upon reaching the end of the canyon, whose walls had just ended behind her, she would face her final challenge here: her father. Her father who never quite understood her, why she was different from her sisters, why she didn’t enjoy rock farming, why she would leave the family to live the life of a fool. Any one of these could summon a redemption and freedom from regret, yet this was her mind and everything that she had gone through told her it would not nearly be that simple, that this would be far different from the others, and the greatest challenge she had to face: her father, the master of the household, and the one who seemed to have disowned her upon leaving. Pinkie took a moment to examine their surrounding: a wide, round area with the canyon behind them. Something dark lay behind her father, and a white void beyond that. The sky had ended, the world had ended, and this was the finish line. For, as much as she dreaded the thought, this was a race that she had been running this whole time, against time itself. Upon her entry into this world and the warning from a dark moment in her past, she knew that second was not an option. It was in her nature to love a good competition, a good game, but the stakes ran a bit high for her liking.

“How’s it going, Dad?” Pinkie smiled. Her elder did not humor her. It was then that she noticed the key draped upon her Dad’s neck. “What’s that key to?”

“Surely you can guess.” The droning voice replied.

“Um….our house?”

“Everything is a joke. You can’t take anything seriously, and that’s where you fall. How do you expect to survive in a world that demands hard work?”

“I have my friends, and a job making sweets, and everything I could want!” Pinkie smiled again. “You know Dad, my life is actually very nice!”

“Then why are we talking?”

“I had hoped you would tell me.”

A low, unforgiving chuckled somehow worked its way out of a mouth that hadn’t smiled in far too many years.

“I’ll tell you what. We have much to work out, and much to do. Come visit me sometime and we will talk about it. I love you, Pinkie, and for that reason I cannot see a daughter of mine live with regret. We do not see eye to eye, and I figure I hold some fault in that as well. I will tell you what you need to know for right now. You did not lead a stoic life.”

Pinkie blinked. “A what?”

“A stoic life.”

Pinkie thought back over the list of words Twilight used that she didn’t know…it wasn’t on there. “So I didn’t pack well?”

“What?”

“I didn’t stow anything right?”

“No…Pinkie…”

“Or perhaps stewic? A stewish life?”

“Pinkie…”

“Or perhaps it’s a-stoic, where I’m not stoic.”

The father began to speak, thought the last comment through, and pull his comment back within himself. “Yes, you did not lead a stoic life. You didn’t live simply, basically; you simply went away and did whatever you wanted.

“Oh...ok. I guess I was a bit off.” She giggled.

“Yes, you were. Anyway, I suppose you would like this here key?”

“If it lets me out, I would!”

“Out of this place, anyway. You know that I’m not going to just hand it over. You lived under my roof long enough that you know that to get anything you must put your hooves to work, and hard! So get that pink mane out of your eyes and harvest me some rocks!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait I thought we were going to do something about the showmic life?”

“You will learn that, but not from me. I believe the third will teach you that.”

“The third?”

“All in good time, Pinkie. Now, I need to know that you can still work hard, or else there is no point in letting you go on. Harvest the rocks.”

“Oki doki loki!” Pinkie smiled and bounced over a large pile of rocks that she had not noticed previously. Perhaps it hadn’t been there until now. Or perhaps she hadn’t let herself see it until now. Either way, rock farming was part of her, and always would be.

By the time the earth pony had finished the tedious task her mane had fallen flat. One, two and four swishes of the head and it regained its standard style. Rock farming was part of her, always would be, and now a prize could be associated with it. A good memory of this place. Memories…how were memories kept here? Perhaps a gallery with grandiose murals and diagrams of all the things she had done to be on display for her amusement? No, that wasn’t her. Rarity, maybe, but not her. More likely there was a cake or some other treat set out and decorated so that it complimented the tone and setting of the event in question. That seemed about right. The sky began to fade away slowly, a phenomenon her father took note of, but Pinkie, still envisioning memory cakes, or cakories, hmm…no that didn’t work, had not yet taken notice of.

“Pinkie!” her father called as he began to fade away, “I’m sorry this wasn’t the thrilling finale you may have been hoping for, but not everything here had to get harder. The real challenge is still to come, and things will get harder! Trust your father on that! We didn’t lie to you! Quickly, get to the…” and he was gone.

The key had fallen to the ground, shimmering dully in the light of the collapsing day. Here, at the fringes of thought and mental capacity, the world, for whatever reason was slipping away. The wind picked up, voices carried upon it reached her, carving words into the canyon walls behind her.

“Pinkie, are you feeling any better?” Twilight.

“Come on Pink, you’re always there for us. Look, I brought you a care package.” Dashie…

“Ahm worried sick, y’all. I mean…” Worried about what? The key!

Pinkie raced over, clamped her mouth down on the key and nearly fell into the patch of darkness she now discovered was a hole. She stepped into it, and found that it accepted her, as she stepped onto flat ground, with a cliff of the world falling away behind her. She could see the vertical words of Fluttershy being etched into the rock, yet the words upon the wind did not reach her. She walked forward, cautiously, taking care not to miss anything. It was an unnecessary risk as the door loomed before her, a ponderous and forbidding slab of rotting wood with an iron handle that was cold to the touch of her hoof. She inserted the key into the lock, opened the door and stepped forward. Light and darkness surrounded her, as she felt a complete disconnect from the world she had left. No longer was she master of her surroundings. Pinkie squeezed her eyes shut as a loud whirring filled her ears.

“Giggle at the ghosties…” she quietly whispered to herself, yet the words were lost amidst the rush past her ears, yet nothing pressed against her mane or body. She reached out a hoof, desperately trying to reach something, anything, and another hoof clasped hers, pulling her down. She felt what could be assumed was solid ground underneath her, and a lukewarm air surrounding her. She opened her eyes and stared into herself, except she appeared to be grey, and wearing a frown. Pinkie smiled. The other did not. She cocked her head to one side. The other did not. Instead, it narrowed its cold eyes and spoke.

“What are you doing in my state of mind?”

The Journey Continues

Pinkie had nothing to say. She smiled, started to form a sentence, halted, and withdrew any remark. From a journey of trial and forgiveness she had suspected that the worst had come and gone, that through a world of unreal color and vivid impossibility she had encountered enough to omit the feeling of being startled or even surprised. This was something else. This was still her mind, or was it? What had this grey version of her mentioned? Her state of mind? Who was this? Well, it was her, that much was obvious, but not in the same manner as those doppelgangers that had suffered their way out of the Mirror Pool, but something far more personal, and far more discouraging to see.

“What are you doing in my state of mind?” The other asked again.

“I was just…”

“You were just flaunting your popularity over me! Don’t deny it! Get out before I throw you out.” The grey Pinkie Pie turned away, smacking Pinkie in the face with her tail and regarding her with a sinister look of utter disdain.

“How?”

The grey pony turned back. “How?”

“How do I leave?”

“Shut up. Isn’t it enough that you get to live out there? Actually see more than the inside of your own mind?”

Pinkie frowned. She felt saddened that she seemed to have nothing but enemies in her mind. How lonely she actually was when she reached inside herself and was separated from the friends she knew and loved.

“Wait.” Pinkie called in a soft voice to the grey pony, who had turned away again. “Can you help me?”

“What is this? The great Pinkie Pie needs the help of Grump? Give me one reason I should help you. As far as I’m concerned, you deserve to suffer a bit. The rest of us know nothing but suffering. Oh look, I’m Pinkie Pie and I’m the essence of Joy. Because the others are miserable I get to make all of the friends and live in the waking world.” The other spat mockingly.

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Grump? Is that your name?”

“You find my name funny?”

“Well, yeah! No wonder you aren’t happy! You just need to get a nickname!”

“Easy for you to say, Pinkie! The other got a nickname and you were born along with Joy. Well guess what? Some of us aren’t so lucky, and we aren’t ever wanted back. What good would a nickname do? I get a nickname and another state of mind simply arises but I stay the same. Don’t play me for a fool, you’re the only fool this mind holds.”

“What?” Pinkie grinned.

“Look, just leave. Go back to Joy.” Grump turned to leave, halted, and spun around yet a third time. A clear concern shown in the concrete eyes as she regarded Pinkie. “Who is out right now?”

“Out where?”

“You and I are in here…so that means that she must be out there.”

“Who? What? Out where? Ooh! Do you know how to get out?”

“Get out? Wait a minute…” Grump squinted at Pinkie, her grey nose nearly brushing her brightly colored twin as the former regarded the latter with amount of disgust and interest. “You forgot?

Pinkie cocked her head and squinted in turn. “Forgot what?”

“I would laugh at you…” Grump scowled. “Let me explain. You see, Pinkie, we are states of mind. You, Her, and Me.”

“Who?”

“You.”

“No, the other one.”

“Me.”

“The third one.”

“Quit it! I…ugh. So yeah, there are three of us. We are all states of mind. The body we inhabit, oh how would Twilight put it…is a shell. You have been taking all the time for yourself, so I have time to think. A state of mind must be present in…the shell at all times.”

“What happens if one isn’t? Don’t tell me…we…um…I have no idea.”

“We stop laughing.”

“You don’t laugh.”

“We die, Pinkie.”

“Oh…” Pinkie frowned. “So we stop laughing.”

“Yes, er…no, I mean yes. Anyway, while one state of mind occupies the shell, the rest of us live in these worlds that best fit us.

Pinkie pondered this new bit of information. This made no sense to her, as it was completely insane. Yet there was something to be said for insane theories and ponderings. After all, if the world made nothing but sense, then there would be no room for those ponies who make life interesting and just a bit wild for everypony else. An insane theory, yes, but one that she could handle. However, she did hold a predicament before her: that she was no longer in her own insane world. Joy, as Grump had called it, was behind her. This place, this anger, was her world now. It was the harbor from which hostility found its way into the world, carrying with it unforgivable offences, deep currents of grudges and ill omen. A world through joy and forgiveness into a deep shade of grey that held bitter resentment towards all she held dear. Could it be this is where her family had emerged? Nameless shadows that, like her, had found their way into a different state of mind and taken shape and meaning? If that was so, then why did she have to escape this world? Her mind had taken her back in within herself and into her own state of mind for some reason, and then told her that she must escape. Could that just be her own state of mind? Pinkie threw her head from one shoulder to the other while Grump glared at her, impatient and irritated.

“Well, we can all share then.” Pinkie stated at last.

“Share?” Grump spat. “I do not share. If I get back to the world, I will make sure that Pinkie Pie never laughs or throws another party again, and life will be far better for the both of us. You get to keep giggling, and I don’t have to think about those who laughed at me, because no one will ever want to look at me again, and then there will be no more laughs.”

“You need to lighten up. Just smile!”

Pinkie smiled, Grump frowned.

“Look, Pinkie, you want to get out right? Then you are going to have to do something for me. This world is grey, and I enjoy that. But I cannot regain a place in the world until I have color somewhere in my state of mind. No, you do not count. In the Cave lies color. The color fears the grey and hides away in the black. I hate color. I hate caves. I hate you. You will go into the cave and find the color. Ok?”

“Ok, and then I can go?”

“Yes, then you can go. You are useless dead, so be careful of those within the Cave.”

Pinkie frowned. “What lives in the Cave?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what they look like or what they are. All I know is that they were silent until they found their voice in the sound that water makes as it drops into pools within the silence and the dark. I hate them and their words. Do not let them speak to you.”

Grump wandered off without another word and was soon lost to the grey background, leaving a very confused Pinkie to wonder how color would move.

Green is Not a Creative Color

It was not a long walk into the cold, grey world of anger that Pinkie found the cave she desired. Grump had limited the amount of information she was willing to give the inhabitant of Joy, but what little she had mentioned of the potential obstacles to be found within the darkness of the cave. Pits, climbs, massive rooms without any end, mazes, narrow crawls, and those odd creatures who lived within the cave. Those who were born without voice and found sound through the echoes of water falling to otherwise placid pools of deep, chilly water where hostility lie dormant until the outside world fished it from its sleep. In other pits lie neglect, grudges, jealousy, and bitterness. From this cave spurred the essence of anger, hate, and all emotions that turn friends against each other. Just before her departure, Grump presented unto Pinkie a brass key that would allow her access to the cave. The pink pony took it with a smile and set out in what perhaps would be the best direction to find a cave entrance.

The cave had no name. Before Grump it had allowed hostility to fester within the pony. The cave was formed upon the birth of Pinkie, and had only grown longer and deeper with each passing year of arguments and hurt feelings. The cave had never been mapped, the expanse never truly known. Grump was the only one who dwelt above the cave within Anger, all other members of Anger's limited population hated the light, however dim it may be, and instead decided to remain within the confines of shadow. Yet when the cave was formed color was present. Color gave the cave light. Light spread throughout the caverns, crawls, halls, pits, climbs, chambers, streams, pools, and lives. Yet when the dark shades of hatred that learned their voice from the cave arrived, they drove the color back into nothingness. Grump had occasionally gone looking for them, as color was needed to understand the outside world and be able to take control of the body. According to Grump there were five colors, the most creative of colors: Red, Blue, Purple, Orange, and Yellow. Grump had informed Pinkie she knew where two of the colors lay: Orange was taken to the chest in the maze of twisty little passages, all alike. Yellow was trapped within the golden eggs in the Giant's Room. As for the rest, it was anyone's guess. This world was much like Joy, in a way. A certain amount of randomness followed the imprint of the world, causing any adventure to be wrought full of unexpected calamity and occasionally malicious trifles.

Any being who had experience in cave exploration knew that it was wise to have a minimum of three light sources, food, water, a first-aid kit, a helmet, knee-pads (when applicable) and gloves (also when applicable). Pinkie found a rusty old lamp next to the grate in the ground which led to the cave. The lamp was already lit. It had been lit for quite some time and had no intentions of going out. Pinkie, as one may have already assumed through any variety of encounter with her, may have guessed that she was not one to explore caves on a regular basis. Nevertheless, it was a challenge that sounded, on the whole, something along the lines of fun. Who knows? Maybe Grump would change too.

The cave beneath the grate ran cold and deep. It was truly a cave to be reckoned with. Equestria contains massive caves due to the presence of dragons, and beyond that the natural limestone that forms a great many of the peaks that can be found within the kingdom form deep, wet, decorated caves. Not many ponies find their blood to become "mixed with limestone", as it were, yet the interest in speleology is not lost upon the equine race. Caving ponies are considered to be an odd lot, and not often found in mass.

Pinkie Pie pushed the grate, which was unlocked, open and clasped the lamp within her mouth and descended into the dimly lit darkness of the cave. The pony soon became aware of the fact that she was, in fact, falling through the dark. The world shook and turn, the lamp twisted around, yet remained lit. She landed heavily upon the cold stone. The thin needles of light showed little save for scattered rocks, dirt, and a small cage, which was off to one side. Why not? Two exits could be devised from the current position, one straight ahead,which seemed to be no more than a small pit bordering an overhanging wall, and a small duckway passage behind her. No light shown from above, yet every so often a stray beam of light from the lamp would illuminate a precariously hanging rock. Moving carefully towards the pit, the curious pony glanced over. Somewhere far below her lay the entrance to Anger; the impressively unremarkable sky could be seen. She shrugged, used to the effect of the world shifting for her, or perhaps it was just her shifting, and turned away from the edge and continued on. As she passed the stray cage, a small voice told her to take it. That somewhere in this cave she may need it. The voice sounded strangely like Rainbow Dash. Heeding the advice of one who most likely had been in a cave before, she tipped the cage over and began to push it along in front of her. With each rock the cage moved over resounded a dull clank. Within the sound came the voices of those she sought and loved most dearly.

"Is she smiling?"

"Does she ever stop smiling?"

"Wake up, Pinkie. Please."

"Oh, darling. Come here."

"How is she?"

"Alive."

"Color." A hollow voice echoed around the cave as the dull clank ended with her entrance into a long, flat, featureless hall. "Another color."

From within the gloom came the sensation of loneliness. In this place she was abandoned. She shrunk back, frowned, stood back up and laughed.

"Yep! Color for everyone!"

Not As It Seems

The voice had receded into the gloom of the long hall. Pinkie Pie waited in baited anticipation for a reply, yet none came. Another color, the voice had claimed. Grump had mentioned how she wanted color. How her world was all too grey to live in, and how color had been forced underground. Then there was that bit about something living in the dark. Pinkie hadn’t really paid much attention to that bit. Whatever it was probably just wanted a friend, or to make amends, or to know what it means to smile. The voice was not one a benevolent sort; the hostility was far less than subtle. The lamp burned dully, the air was damp, the stone floor colder than it should be. The hall stretched from her imagination into the depths of her mind she wished didn’t exist. Anger. Sorrow. Pain. This was not just a house of irritation and moments of heated words. Anger stems from much more, planting seeds to be watered by small arguments and hurt feelings. Anger. Sorrow. Pain. This cave had no name, needed no name, was familiar. How could that be, though? Grump had claimed that she was no more than a state of mind, Joy to be exact. If her being and existence was no more than a state of mind for her body to house, then how could a cave of a different state of mind be familiar? Then again, they did all share the same body. Grump knew her name, and where she had come from. Yet, from this, arose another question: if she was no more than a state of mind then why was she able to leave her own mind and travel into another state? Should she have not just regained her conscious world? Would that even be optimal? If Grump was correct, then she had been the ruling consciousness for enough time that she had forgotten herself. Her true identity. An identity of love, and smiles, and carefree wishes. Anger. Sorrow. Pain.

Casting glances about the room, she rolled the discovered cage ahead of her, marking each moment of travel with a metallic clink as the metal cage struck the hard stone floor. The hall yawned ahead of her. Ancient stones, their eternal meditations interrupted, seemed to watch her pass, and watch her go until the light she carried had gone. Little changed in the scenery. No speleothems presented themselves to improve the view; no bats clung from the ceiling, and no voiceless being presented itself to her.

Eventually she happened upon the gaping maw of another passage stretching off towards the north, sloping downward and away. Pinkie moved over to the passage, thrusting her lamp within, taking care not to fall. Something shiny glistened further down the passage.

“Hello?” she called out. She heard herself answer back. “Where did you go? I’m looking for some colors!”

Something shiny glistened further down the passage.

Pinkie turned, her hoof catching a rock in the process, throwing her balance asunder as she collapsed onto the rock floor. Her hind foot kicked out in the effort to keep steady. She felt it strike something metal. Clink, clink, clink. Pinkie rose picked herself up, dusting off while glancing about to see if anything had changed. The cave behind looked strange to her, as strange as that ahead. True she really hadn’t gone anywhere to become lost in, yet chills managed to find her courage. How many had been lost here? How many had been forced to call this pit within Anger home? She didn’t know. No wonder they were so angry. Anypony would be angry if they had to live in a dark hole. Pinkie found herself alone within the passage, save for her lamp. The cage had vanished.

“Ooh, I liked that thing.” She frowned briefly before pulling a smile. “Hey! Maybe that shiny spot was my cage! Wait, no…that couldn’t be. I had the cage before I saw the shiny thing.”

Pinkie glanced over. Something shiny glistened further down the passage.

“Or did I? Yep, definitely did.”

The long hall stretched into the blackness of the cave, the small passage bid her entrance. A small lure of sparkling unknown wished her discovery, and her very being felt alien within the cavern. Pinkie moved into the small passage, slipping on the mud-covered rocks. Eventually deciding that sliding down on her back would be far faster and reduce the need for balance, the ground became flat and far less slippery quickly. Moving forward into the passage, it quickly became evident that Pinkie could no longer see quite as well as she had previously, and the glistening lure had disappeared. The shadows did not flicker, nor part to ease her passage, and this was only a few feet from the slope she had just descended.

“Ah! My lantern!” Pinkie cried, spinning around and flinging herself a rather impressive distance to land partially upon the slope, only to slide back down again amidst the sickly “squelch” the mud made as she disengaged her body from the sticky mess. Pinkie regarded the various methods she could use to ascend the slippery slope. Straight up seemed like a good idea.

Upon her quick return to the bottom of the passage, and another meeting with the mud, her lantern danced into view, teetering on the edge.

“Just a little bit closer! I’m down here!” She called up to the object.

If the lantern had heard her, it made no motion to indicate it. Simply standing upon the edge of safety and adventure. Pinkie’s bright eyes shimmered. The lamp moved slightly closer to the edge and tilted forward, keeping a solid grasp on the solid rock before backing up again.

“Nonononono! Wrong way!”

Closer.

“Yes!”

Farther.

“No! Hey! Since when can you even move? I don’t remember you telling me that!”

The air turned uncomfortable. The shadows moved a bit closer. Pinkie placed a hoof upon the muddy slope, her eyes fixated upon the opening above her. Off to the left, she watched as a very pale, almost ethereal, version of herself glide into view, regard the lantern, despise it, and knock it down the slope. Pinkie watched the light bounce once, twice, and land with a crash as the blackness of the cave consumed the contrasting color. In the hall above her, something moved away.

Angry Thoughts

Darkness can be a dreaded enemy. The night allies itself with stars and the moon to reveal what obstacles may lay ahead, but deep within the ground lay an abyss of eternity without dawn. It was this darkness that Pinkie Pie found herself consumed by. Her lamp had been cast down, by what appeared to be herself, becoming quite unusable.

"Hey! You could at least have turned on a light or something. I can't see anything!"

Her hoof found the remains of the lamp, the oil sticking to her coat as she rummaged around in the gloom for her bearings. After finding where the muddy slope was located, she turned around and bounced off, only to find that the ceiling was far lower than previously anticipated. Trading out bouncing for walking, Pinkie shuffled her way through the cave. While nothing alive, or at least close enough to perhaps be considered alive, crossed her path, she soon discovered other inhabitants of the cave: water, dust, shallow pits, and all manner of hidden rocks and protrusions, which her hooves seemed to have a knack for finding. After she managed to discover what she assumed to be a particularly dusty hole in the floor, she scrambled out.

"Alright you! You're not being very nice! Somepony could poke her eye out on something in here! Or even I could!"

It was in this moment that Pinkie noticed something strange, the speleothems, walls, pits, and all manner of formations around her became slightly visible. As the darkness continued to melt away, the room became recognizable in the way that she had never seen it before. The cave behind her looked strange, as did that which lay in front of her. The room itself was small, with three different passages branching off from it. She stood alongside a small pit, with a larger depression alongside one of the walls.

"Oh...that's much better." Pinkie grinned.

She peered into the various passages, shrugged and moved away, only to become reacquainted with the dusty pit. She climbed out and moved over to look into the larger depression, and froze. She was looking at herself, except it wasn't her. Her coat was a wonderfully presentable pink, not that musty brown color. She cocked her head, and watched the other mimic the movement.

"Ok, you can't scare me. I found you! I know this game you're trying to play! It's called: Pinkie gets lost in a cave and doesn't get out! Well, it won't work. I'm on to you!"

"Who are you talking to?" came a rather irritated voice from behind her.

"I'm talking to me, who isn't me, but can and could be me. See? She's rather rude too, talking at the same time as me. I wouldn't do that. Stop it!"

"Are you blind?"

"Nope, but I think I was supposed to be until this light came along. I didn't know caves just had lights in random rooms. WOAH!"

Pinkie gasped as she broke the surface, jumping out from the pool.

"Better?"

"Did she pull me in?"

"Oh for the love of...look in."

Through the ripples Pinkie could make out her reflection, with bits of mud still clinging to her mane.

"Heh! I look silly! I bet Rarity would faint if she saw me like this."

"Pssh, Rarity." aired a rather impatient reply.

"Yeah, she doesn't like dirt too much, or leaves, or rain, or mud, or-"

"I get it!"

"Or really anything dirty. But she's still great. Say, when did you get here? Are you one of those things that..."

The sentence ran dry. Pinkie was found herself in company with...another version of herself. This was getting rather tedious, trying to keep up with yourself, when you keep meeting another you.

"Who are you? Besides me?"

"I am not you. Who would want to be you? Don't assume!" the other yelled back, released and audible sigh, and glowered. "I am Anger."

"You're angry?"

"Anger."

"Hungry?"

"Anger!"

"Angler! I don't like fishing too much."

"NO! I am Anger! The conscious mindset of irritable thoughts and enragement!"

"I thought that Grump was my angry side."

"GRUMP? Grump is not Anger. Discord injected him into our body's mind, and now he has taken my place. I will see him gone." Anger hissed.

"He sent me down here."

"Why?"

"To find some colors. A bunch of them."

"What are you doing in this state of mind anyway? Why not stay over in yours and leave me alone?"

"I'm trying to get out. My friends must miss me." Pinkie said somberly.

The look Anger now gave Pinkie made ever her back up slightly. Never had she seen a pony look so enraged by the comment of another. As Pinkie backed up, Anger took slow, deliberate steps towards her.

"Your friends? Do you think that just because you get to actually live in the waking world, you get to claim them as your friends. News flash, Pinkie! They are not just yours! I am as much a part of this mind as you are. Just because they prefer to see us happy does not mean that you can just claim everything! WHY ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR STATE OF MIND?"

"Because I didn't know that's what I am, so I'm trying to get out. I was told by Rocky that I needed to get out or I would be trapped in there forever."

"What? I...no. Rocky doesn't know anything. He's over with Pinkamena. Wait. You saw Grump outside the cave, right?"

"Yep."

"Then who's in control right now?"

"Pinkamena?"

"I hope not." Anger shuddered. "Stupid thing gives me the creeps."

"Who is Pinkamena?" asked Pinkie.

"The one after this. The part of the mind that everypony has, but nopony wants."

"Aw. That's sad. Maybe she just needs a friend."

"She has plenty of friends."

The conversation fell away as the two stood looking at each other. The sound of water droplets could be heard vaguely. Pinkie began to shiver, forgetting that she was still soaked. Anger seemed to look everywhere except at her joyous brethren. She wore a mask of disdain for the present company. Underneath her glare the shadows moved away, allowing the light to gleefully fill the void.

"So you're causing the light?"

"This is my mind. What, you don't think I would be able to control my own mind?"

Pinkie smiled and shrugged. Anger's eyes flashed, but subsided.

"I can't do much because Grump is here. I made this cave to hold angry the angry thoughts. I would wait to be released when the time was right and what I did out there would show up here. I put them in the cave so they could be together, and I could be alone. Now I'm down here with them."

"Them? You mean we're not alone?" Pinkie gasped.

"You seriously haven't seen them yet?"

"Oh, the things that found pools in the sound of voices or something?"

"Yeah, them. All they are are angry thoughts that I came up with. I hate company, so I put them in here. Then when Grump showed up he did the same to me. That's not too fair is it?" Anger asked moodily. "Say, how about if we help each other?"

"Ooh! I can help!"

"If we find these colors, I can get rid of Grump and be alone again!"

"How does that help me?" Pinkie frowned.

"Alone again. That means you're not here either!"

"Oh...I don't get it."

"We get the colors, you get to leave."

"Oh. Sounds good to me!"

"No smiling!"

Minor Annoyances

“Wrong, there are four colors.”

“Grump said there were five.”

“Grump isn’t one for telling the truth very much.”

“Listen to me, there are only four colors: yellow, blue, orange, and red. Now then, grump said yellow and orange were where?”

“Yellow was in the Giant’s Room, with the golden eggs, and orange was in the chest in the maze. Ooh! The maze had lots of little twisty passages.”

“What else would a maze have?” Anger sighed, stamping the ground with a hoof. The small light that she had conjured up was enough to give them passage through the cave, but not much more. “Look, I know where the Giant’s Room is, and I have never seen a color there; as for the other I happen to know that that maze is alive. It would never let us get to the chest.”

“How can a maze be alive?” Pinkie asked.

“Things must be so simple in your state of mind. Let’s go, the Giant’s Room is still a ways off, and I really hate going there. I really hate this cave!”

Ever since Pinkie and Anger had become acquainted, Pinkie had laughed and joked with Anger without so much as a path to change her thoughts, and Anger had become increasingly foul. As they wandered, however, Pinkie took notice of the way the cave changed as they passed. Passages would open wide, water would dry, and pits would offer a way across. It seemed that while Grump held control of the state of mind, Anger still fought back with what she could, refusing to let up.

“So why do you want to get back to the waking world so quickly? Aren’t you tired of being used so much?”

“How could I?” Pinkie exploded, dwarfing the aggravated sigh that resonated from her companion, “I love that place! There’s lots of delicious food, and parties to throw, and my friends are always there!”

“There you go again with your friends. I don’t understand it. I was out there too, at one point. I’ve met them, those others who you think, watch out for the hole there, are so incredibly worthwhile. You know Pinkie, you should really find somepony else to get along so well with. Your friends aren’t that great, and you don’t have any other frame of mind that wants to see you.”

“You mean…we’re not friends?”

The look Anger flashed back answered the question.

“Do you like being out in the world? Seeing the birds, and the flowers, and the other ponies, and the sky, and the plains, and the mountains, and the woods, and the buildings, and the roads, and the—”

“I GET THE POINT!”

“Well, don’t you like that?”

“Why should I? Hmm? Every time I get to see those things, all that I get is more angry thoughts down here. I don’t like company and company doesn’t like me. As far as I’m concerned there isn’t a good place to be. Life’s hard and unfair. Sooner you accept that the sooner you realize what’s important and what isn’t.”

“Then what’s important?”

“The only important thing is my state of mind, and I can’t even have that to myself. Do you need to talk?”

Anger quickened her pace, muttering and breaking off stalactites as she passed. Pinkie began to whistle. The cave answered in melodious silence, broken by the harmonic sound of hooves scraping on rock and water falling into insignificance.

“Heh heh!” Pinkie giggled, looking down.

“What is it now?”

“My hooves are so muddy. I was just thinking about how Rarity would react if she saw me like this.” She made a face and lifted her nose, “Pinkie Pie! I cannot allow you to walk about in this…uh…nasty…mud. Go wash your hooves at once!”

Pinkie Pie broke into laughter. Anger spat a remark that silenced the happy pony.

“That was mean.” Pinkie frowned.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing. Oh wait, that’s just me talking isn’t it?”

“You didn’t need to call her names.”

“Why not? It fits, and everypony needs a name. Who cares if hers can be used more than once?”

Pinkie stopped talking after that, trailing along behind Anger. Every time she glanced back, the cave looked different. Passages that were previously hidden revealed themselves to her. Formations ran from the ceiling and onto the floor. Flowstone had moved its way over ridges in the rock, forming all manner of patterns and art. Gypsum flowers blossomed as they passed, the eerie light casting an odd reflection on the walls until they had passed and were once more allowed to sleep. Anger hadn’t made any sound since her last cutting remark, and seemed to be a degree less miserable since Pinkie had fallen silent.

The floor for the most part seemed well traveled as the dirt was packed down into something similar to the roads that spanned Ponyville. Anger commented that they were close to the Giant’s Room, and hopefully the first color. They began to ascend very gradually, the floor just offering a slight elevation gain. Then the cold set in.

“Ooh, it’s getting a bit colder.” Pinkie shivered.

“Yeah…probably Grump causing trouble for us.” Anger quipped, “Always did enjoy messing me up.”

“It’s getting a bit muddier too.”

“I guess so.”

“So what’s the Giant’s Room like, is it OW! I hit my hoof on a rock.”

“Agh! Yeah, my head just found the ceiling.”

The floor had grown steeper, muddier, and the air colder. Anger huffed and grumbled as she trudged her way up the hill, Pinkie Pie could be heard behind as the walls seemed to play pinball with her.

“How far are we?”

“No idea. I don’t remember it being this hard. Stupid cave! Always changing. Always—whoa!”

Pinkie looked up to see the gray copy of herself tumbling down the path. She sighed. At the bottom, Anger disentangled herself from Pinkie, speaking without really saying anything. The air had grown quite cold, the mud from the passage was sticky, wet, and uncomfortably present. A low wind had started to pick up, increasing the chill in the air. Pinkie sat up and rubbed her head.

“That seemed like it should have been more fun. Rolling down in a bunch of mud usually seems fun. That was just painful.”

“You’re telling me. You know, I wouldn’t mind it if it was just the cold, or the mud, or the steepness, or…any one part of it. Ah! It’s all of the little things, put together. I don’t remember it being this bad. Stupid memory, stupid cave, stupid everything!”

Anger kicked the wall, but the mud seemed to have worked its way down the passage, causing her hind hooves to stick to the wall.

“Don’t…say…a…word.” Anger breathed.

The room was promptly filled with inevitable laugher.

Feeling Blue

“I certainly don’t trust this thing.”

“What’s not to trust about it? It’s a sign pointing us where we need to go.”

“That’s what I don’t trust about it.”

“You don’t think this cave would do that to us do you?”

“I…ugh.”

“Oh, right. I remember now.”

“Remember what? You know, never mind. Let’s just keep looking for the Giant’s Room.”

“Shouldn’t we at least try the way the sign is pointing?”

“This is a wild cave, Pinkie. Why would there be a sign?”

“Because it’s also your state of mind and you want to find the room?”

Anger sighed and glanced over at the wall. There was no doubt about its interpretation. The misshaped piece of wood pointed off to the left, down a small duckway. A pair of crudely carven words lazily gave indication to the suggested destination. True, it was the exact location Anger had been searching for, and while the cave was content on shifting itself around, this particular area spoke with silent confidence this was correct. It would be the first time.

“What have we got to lose?” asked Pinkie, with a slight smile.

“Our way.”

“I though we had lost that a while ago.”

“Fine,” Anger huffed, giving a sharp look back at her better half, “we’ll follow the sign. Let’s just see what happens.”

The maze into which the two ventured at that point held within its grasp the ingredients to ensure there would be no escape, and a nature of surreptitious hazards. While each little passage branched out into seventeen more upon its end, there was no guarantee you would ever reach the split. Illusions of easy progression revealed to be slopes, pits and all manner of unpleasant aspects one might wish to avoid in most mazy situations. Some walls stretched off into the blackness, while others revealed opening just out of reach.

“Stay close Pinkie, it could take all the time you have left to get out of here.”

“Have you ever seen this place before?”

“We all end up in the maze eventually. It’s inevitable.”

“What’s the point of this maze, anyway?”

“Annoyances. Little, tiny, infuriating annoyances. Not to mention the color Orange.”

It didn’t need to be said, as the maze said it for them. There was no way to know where they had been or where they were bound. Each passage was either identical to those around it or completely different. Yet for all the oppressive feelings, Pinkie felt strangely at home here. Perhaps it was from the previous instance of a maze during her adventure in her own state of mind. Perhaps it was just because she was Joy and there was some element of that strong enough to counteract the rage a maze such as this could cause. Perhaps it was that she just wasn’t bothered by being lost, perhaps it was the fact that she was no longer in the maze. In fact, she seemed to be in a river. Now how did that happen? She assumed it was a river. It was wet, cold, and moving. Seemed likely for a river to be of those characteristics. Anger was calling for her now. Such language.

“I’m down here, Anger!” Pinkie called out above her. She assumed she had fallen. Her lower half was a bit sore suddenly.

Anger called out to her again in reply. Pinkie’s lexicon became significantly expanded, assuming half of the things her angrier self just said were real words.

A bit of dirt showered itself down upon Pinkie’s face. A cry echoed up from below. Pinkie, still gazing upward, shifted herself three feet to the right and watched the luminescent haze of Anger swiftly travel from high above to low and wet. Pinkie giggled. She could not see Anger’s face, but she stopped once the water started to boil. Without saying another word, Anger picked herself up and started upstream.

“Wait, why go that way?” Pinkie asked, having not bothered to move yet.

“You know what? Shut up!” Anger roared back, “You suggested we take the advice of that stupid sign and look where we are! You’ve caused enough trouble.”

“Wait, this isn’t my fault!” Pinkie replied, “You said we would end up in the maze eventually, right?”

“Yes! I mean no! I mean shut up!” Anger snapped and continued moving forward. Pinkie looked after her for a moment, weighing her options, before joining her grey self down the murky tunnel.

Cold and sadness flowed in abundance through that unnatural river. Here there were no wonders of the cave to distract her. The depths of the cave were cold and lifeless. Nothing, not even the mindset of Anger, should ever have to endure a world such as this.

“Well, she didn’t have to do that. Why did she have to do that? Isn’t right.” Said Anger suddenly.

“What?”

“Oh, you’re still here. Shame. Never mind, just an…impulse. Pinkie, don’t move. Seriously, stop right there.”

“What is it?”

“Impulses within a mindset are dangerous. It’s a mistake in thought. Surely when you were working through your mindset you experiences impulse?”

Pinkie thought back to the maze one of her sisters had constructed for her. To take the passages of that maze in the wrong order resulted in an impulsive thought, which interrupted her progress. Anger must have seen the connection on Pinkie’s face as she just nodded.

“So what do we do now?”

“It depends. Impulses can be a couple of different things. They can either be random and simply placed by the other things that roam this cave, or it could be a step to prevent anything from going forward.”

“I thought my friends had abandoned me. I had never felt so alone.” Pinkie’s eyes were wide with memory.

“I really hate this cave. Can’t have anything go right; everything always has to be so complicated…blue.”

“They didn’t think I was helping. They avoided me. Hmm?” Pinkie slogged her way up to Anger. The latter had her hoof pointing outward. Slowly the luminescent haze moved it’s way upstream. There, at the far end of the passage, just where the water made its grand entrance, sat a blue, shimmering, ball.

“Is that a color?” Pinkie whispered.

Anger gave Pinkie a very slow turn of the head. Pinkie smiled sheepishly. Anger mumbled.

“Alright. I don’t know what this color’s game is, but be careful.”

“Game? What are the rules?”

“I don’t know, Pinkie.” Anger sneered, “I just said I don’t know its game. Colors don’t like to be found, so they try to prevent whoever does find them from actually getting to it.”

“How do you beat it?”

“Every color in this cave has a specific attribute. It will use that to prevent being caught.”

“Ooh! So like yellow didn’t want to be found by us, and kept us from climbing up the slope.”

“Yeah. Still trying to figure that one out.”

“Annoying!” Pinkie gasped.

“Yes, you are. Good job, Pinkie; self-identification is the first step towards improvement.”

“No, I mean it was annoying. At first it was a little windy, then we got annoyed and it got a bit icy, and we kept getting annoyed by little things and they kept getting built up until we couldn’t climb up. There was too much to overcome in its entirety. Ooh, that vein sticking out of your head is dancing.”

Anger sloshed her way up towards elusive color, her pace a steady thumping of forceful hooves against the bottom of the shallow stream. She huffed and heaved while Pinkie watched interested. Then Anger collapsed down into the stream. As the sounds of heavily disturbed water subsided Pinkie could make out the unmistakable sounds of rapid breath associated with tears. Quiet words were lost to the current as they were whispered by Anger into the cold water and carried away to be lost.

“Anger? What’s wrong?” She moved forward as well before a petrifying thought gripped her. “My friends will never see me again. I’ll be lost in here forever. They will leave me. Wait. Where did that come from?”

Anger struck the water with a hoof, yelling out through the veil of tears she wove upon her face. “Everyone hates me. I could never fit in. Nothing is ever pleased to see me.”

The faces of her friends flowed through Pinkie, smiling and happy before turning dark and tear-streaked. Then they faded.

“No! I won’t let you leave!” Pinkie cried out, her own vision blurred. With strength she had never had to use, the joyful mindset slogged forward past the still weeping Anger and towards the evasive goal. She saw her name erased from the memories of her friends. She saw the element of laughter turned over to some other pony. The river picked up speed. Anger screamed behind her, snapping her out of a new stupor as the temperature of the water mimicked the grave. A swell knocked her balance asunder, and all was black.

“Hey! Wake it on up!”

Pinkie felt a slap on her cheek and unwelcome light pour through her waking eyes. The sounds of a river could be heard of in the distance.

“Hey! Pinkie! You still with me?”

“Yeah, ow. Why’d you slap me?”

“Well you sure weren’t waking up by asking you to. Thought I might have lost you there.”

“What happened?”

“Something took you out. Happens with states of mind like us; we encounter a new thought we can’t really comprehend because the contrast is to great.”

“What?”

“You couldn’t handle it.”

“Oh. Those are some long words.”

“Yeah, well we can’t all have the pleasure of ignorance.”

“What?”

“Exactly. The good news is we now have a color.”

“Yay!” Pinkie exclaimed as she rose, “where is it?”

“Already in. Notice anything about my coat?” Anger asked, turning.

“Hmm. You got it cut! Just kidding, it’s not just grey. There’s a bit of…pink!”

“Not my favorite color.” Anger sighed. “Anything is better than this grey I have to live with. The cold leaves as color enters, just like I said.”

“So blue made us sad?”

“Yep. Seems like it.”

Pinkie frowned at the thought. “Why would sadness be found within your state of mind? Shouldn’t there be one for feeling sad?”

Anger’s slightly appeased expression faded. She averted her gaze as she replied. “There was a state of mind of sadness, sorrow, and all things that make you feel, well, blue. She’s not here anymore.”

“What, she left?”

“She died.”

“A state of mind can die?”

“Oh certainly. If a state of mind isn’t used enough then it dies off. That is the reason why you say you need to get out. It’s not that you won’t be trapped. You will die.”

“Oh.” Pinkie thought of the faces of her friends without her. “Wait. There have been times where I know I’ve been there but I’ve been sad. How does that work?”

“It’s because our sad state of mind became spread across the remaining states of mind and can be a part of any one of us. It’s the reason blue is a color here in Anger.”

“So she died but she didn’t die off.”

“Right. Pinkamena said it was because she couldn’t handle being sad all the time. I say it’s because she hung herself.”

Anger stopped talking, still refusing to look at Pinkie. Pinkie felt two small tears form in her eyes. It hung on the brink of falling away, and seemed to watch the pink pony. Pinkie blinked. The tears fell. She sniffed and smiled.

“One color found. What are we waiting for, let’s go find another!”

Anger waited a moment, watching Pinkie canter down the tunnel without having the slightest idea of where she was going. Lucky for her she was right. Anger smiled at the newfound warmth she felt course through her; even it was only a small amount. Strange, how much of a toll the mind can take on the mindset. Anger nodded at the slight color now found within her. At least now she didn’t completely blend in with the cave. She was getting so tired of this place. She wanted to get out and see her friends; after all, she was on a clock. Wait too long and she’d be stuck in here forever. In a way, she almost felt bad for not telling Pinkie the whole truth… almost.

What is known

“Tell me about the world.”

“Hmm?” Pinkie snapped back to attention. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Tell me about the world. The actual world.” Anger repeated softly.

Pinkie smiled and nodded. “You know, you’ve been a whole lot nicer now that we found the first color.”

Anger snorted. “Don’t look too far into it. I’m just happy we’re closer to removing you from this plane of thought.”

“Whatever it is, I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“Sure. Thanks. Now how about the actual world?”

“It’s great!” Pinkie rejoiced.

Anger waited. Pinkie smiled back.

“Anything else?” prompted the grey counterpart.

“Else?”

“Well, what else can you tell me besides ‘it’s great’? I want specifics,” Anger rubbed her head with a hoof. “What do you do? How is each day different from the last? With whom do you spend the hours meant for work, and with whom do you spend carefree hours at play?”

Pinkie’s wide, bright, eyes glistened to outshine the aura Anger produced. Seeing far beyond the confines of the cave, Pinkie laughed. The cave retracted its continuous hostility to succumb to the warmth that the stones now radiated. Anger moved away from the walls of her stone palace.

“Everyday I wake up to the sun smiling down upon me. Unless it’s raining. In that case I say hello to the rain. The Cake family allows me to help out making cake and other delicious items, and of course I get to lick the bowl. Unless I have something special to do that day I go and try to find my…friends.” Pinkie breathed out a ghost of a laugh. “I learn something from Twilight. She’s always studying and reading. I’ll never know as much as she does. Then there’s Fluttershy. Timid as the mice she looks after, and kinder than anypony I’ve ever known. She always tries to make things right and that everypony is safe and sound. Rainbow Dash has always been fun. She likes to play pranks, perform dazzling tricks up in the sky, and is super dedicated to making sure her friends are taken care of. Applejack is the hardest working pony you would ever meet. She takes any job she can and won’t rest until it’s done. Rarity is always making fancy dresses and stuff for ponies up in Canterlot, but that doesn’t stop her from making time for her friends.”

Anger mused for a moment, rolling a pebble around in her hooves. “They sound nice.”

“Yeah, they are really nice. I can’t wait to see them again.”

“So is that how you rank them?”

Pinkie cocked her head slightly, puzzled at the question.

Anger dropped her pebble without consent, yet did not bother to pick it up and instead rolled it around with one of her hind legs. “Whether you know it or not, everything is ranked. Every piece of food you devour become rated and listed amongst its kind as according to your tastes and preferences. The days of the week or the months of the year are given a score to decide how they will be met. Friends are no exception to this, and I would argue that they are labeled with far more eagerness, whether you notice it or not.”

“I don’t understand.” Pinkie frowned, furrowing her forehead.

“I mean that the five friends you have just listed are given a rating by you, the mindset of Joy, and that there are those you would rather be with day in and day out. You may not think so, but there is no question that some of your friends you are just slightly happier to see than others.”

Droplets of water fell from their crystalline perches to create a ceaseless orchestra. The shadows beyond Anger’s aura performed a slow ballet for a stone audience. The air hung heavy and silent to suppress any that might desire to move or speak underneath. Pinkie’s laugher cracked and sparked, escorting the natural performance of the cave away from attention.

“Rank my friends? Anger, you’ve been alone far too long. Nopony ranks their friends like that.”

Anger kicked the pebble away until it came to rest on Pinkie’s leg. The grey pony rose to circle her joyous brethren. “Is that truly what you believe? Well then, answer my questions and if you are certain you do not rank your friends I will accept it and, “she took a breath and the liberty of a smile, “apologize to you.”

“No need to apologize, Anger. Everypony makes mistakes. I enjoy each of my friends equally and would much rather be with all of them than just one. Just like they say, six is a party.” Pinkie smiled, picked up the discarded pebble and extended her hoof. Anger glanced at the offering with disinterest. “So tell me about this place.”

Anger was taken aback, yet refused to show it. She snorted. “This place? You mean the cave? What could I possibly tell you about this place that you don’t already know? What else is there to tell? The stone is cold. The rooms are dark. The water is patient, the maze always finds me, and I am never allowed to leave. Is that the answer you sought?”

“What scares you?”

“Scares me? Nothing scares me anymore.”

“What about what we hid from?”

Anger found a genuine concern in Pinkie’s wide eyes. What was it with Joy? Why care about something that bears such contrast? Anger had anticipated the happier state of mind would eventually ask her about such things. She had just rather anticipated her to inveigle her into telling instead of asking about any weakness such as fear.

“That is an angry thought. Surely you are not the only being within your state of mind. You must have happy thoughts running about across… I just realized I have never visited your state of mind.” Anger narrowed her eyes. “I have no idea what it looks like.”

“I didn’t see any thoughts running about. Just my family.”

“Ah. That makes sense. Memories that collide directly with your mindset chase away thoughts.”

“But if those things are angry thoughts, then why hide from them? Don’t you control them?”

The grey pony sat down and glared at the stone floor. “Grump. The mere fact that she exists here with me causes the thoughts to become rather confused as to whom they owe their allegiance to so they are hostile towards everything instead. Blasted things. I truly do despise them. When I enter the world I can harvest them from events around me and summon them to interact as well. You may say they served me. Now they roam underground in readiness to lash out. Because Grump was created by that arrogant freak Discord, she contains more power over this mindset than I. It’s also the reason she is allowed to relax above us instead of rotting down in this cave.”

Pinkie took a breath and rolled the pebble between her hooves. The soft stone cracked.

“What can thought do? I mean really do to us here in the mind. I would think being mindsets we wouldn’t be bothered.”

“Yeah, it should be that way. Yet…you know how the old saying goes? Alone with your thoughts? Thoughts are really the most reliable company any of us can depend on. You and me? We aren’t thought. We produce and keep thought. Yet we can be changed by thought. If you were to witness a great amount of new ideas that could be considered joy, then your state of mind would change from whatever it is now to something that embodies the new thought better.”

“So why is this a cave? Caves aren’t angry.” Pinkie glanced about, as if to personify her point.

“When our body gets angry, it seeks to be alone.” Anger sneered at nothing in particular. “As much as I hate it, our body and mind are known for you. Being very happy, and social. What would you define as the opposite of happiness? Anger, right? So if you, the happy-go-lucky one is near everypony and can’t be found without a friend, then what should be the opposite of that?”

Instead of formulating the obvious reply, Pinkie smiled slightly and tapped the wall with a hoof, dropping the pebble. Anger merely nodded.

“I’m going to search around just a bit and see if the cave wants to change on me. How about you stay here for half a moment.” Declared Anger, who left without waiting for an answer.

Pinkie, now immersed in the expected darkness, reclaimed the pebble and continued her previous activity. The constant pressure caused the stone to develop another crack.

“Do you remember when I was obsessed with finding out what your Pinkie sense was?”

Pinkie stopped, listening. She pressed down harder on the stone.

“I was sure there had to an explanation.”

Twilight. Twilight must be visiting. Visiting where? Crackle.

“I don’t think there could ever be an explanation. You’re you, and that’s enough for me.”

Squeeze. Crack.

“It’s always fun seeing your smiling face each day. I know you’ve improved one or two of my rainy days.

A piece of the stone broke off.

“But it’s pretty dark right now. I’m wishing I had your Pinkie sense to tell me that it’s going to be all right.”

The stone became smaller.

“Rainbow’s had everypony bring something in. I can’t wait to see your smile when you see all of these gifts.”

There wasn’t much left.

“I hope somehow you hear me. We’ve decorated so the first thing you will see is a party. Rarity even made a banner.”

One more bit.

“But please be here for it, Pinkie. Don’t make us change the colors. I know you don’t like black.”

Dust fell from her hoof.

Madame

Pinkie lifted her head from the pool of water. The cold air upon her face stung slightly. An involuntary chill rippled through her torso. She wiped off the remaining water from her face and stepped into the pool. Shivering, she lowered her thin form down into the water and sighed.

“Anger? I thought being mad would make you hotheaded. This water is ice cold!” She called out.

She received the exact response she had expected, that is to say a response was not heard. Anger had been acting stranger than usual lately. In fact, ever since Blue had been found she had been rather odd. The monotonous irritation with bursts of rage had been replaced with periods of decently calm interaction, and even the ghost of a grin. It was strange, thought Pinkie, how color was separated from the grey of the cave. Grey’s a color, right? She dismissed the thought with a splash of water. Pinkie lifted a hoof out of the water to scrape the mud off, the other dangled precariously over a lip in the pool. A chilly blackness stretched down into a yawning pit, greedily drinking the still water. The legs traded places. It was kind of Anger to provide a bit of a light to follow Pinkie around.

“I don’t suppose you want to tell me where you went? Ooh! What if you can still hear me?” Pinkie called back into the cave.

“Of course I can still hear you! I’m just in the other room! Are you done yet?”

“I don’t know. The cold kinda feels like it’s warm.”

There was a pause.

“What?”

“Yeah, like the cold water felt how cold it was and decided that it wasn’t good to be cold.”

The temperature of the water dropped substantially.

“Ahh! I was just joking!”

“I’m not. Hurry up.”

“Why are you in the other room? You can come in here, you know. Silly Anger.”

“It’s because you’re bathing.”

“Because I’m bathing? Why does that matter? I always look the same.”

“You know what?” Anger paused. “Fine. Stay in there as long as you want. I’m going for a stroll.”

“A stroll? Stroll where? Ooh!” Pinkie smiled and shifted lower into the now warm pool.

She closed her eyes and sighed. The first thing she was going to do when she returned was go to the spa. Oh, and she must tell Rarity how wonderful a mental bath…yeah, a mental bath is. It was oddly still in the pool; no water dripped from the ceiling to break the surface. They called out from elsewhere to mark their descent. She must also remember to install one of these in her own mindset as well.

“Take a note,” she exclaimed, raising a hoof from the water, “that I, Pinkie…err…Joy, wish to install a cave pool in my mindset at once. I do not require the cave, however.”

“Very good, Madame Joy. Is there anything else you require?”

“Something sweet, if you’re asking. I would love some cake.”

“A cake you shall have. No, do not stir. I shall feed it to you.”

Pinkie opened her mouth and felt something soft and sweet, which tasted remarkably like cake. A bit tart, yet with a smooth, cool frosting to help satiate the palate.

“Satisfactory, Madame?”

“Mmm. Delish! This is a great cake!”

“May I continue?”

“Mmm-hmm, please do!”

With each bite of the pastry, Pinkie felt herself falling deeper and deeper into a state of pure contentedness. Something soft and sweet smelling removed the excess frosting from her lip before her desert continued.

“Would Madame enjoy some peeled grapes?”

“Ooh, I would love some peeled gr—Wait, peeled grapes? No thank you. You can’t mess with cake!”

“My apologies, Madame. Of course, you are right. Is the water temperature all right?”

“The water’s great! Come on in!”

“I appreciate your invitation, Madame, yet I must decline. My place is here, to serve you.”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t need to be served.”

“I hesitate to contradict you, Madame, but as a guest of Anger you must be attended to. Would a braiding of your mane be pleasurable?”

Pinkie made a note to thank Rarity for no particular reason.

“Um, sure!”

“In what style would Madame prefer her mane to be styled?”

“I don’t know. Choose your favorite; it’ll be my favorite too.”

Pinkie felt two soft, skillful hooves weaving through her mane, twisting and knotting. Another pair of hooves attended her hooves, cleaning and polishing with acute precision.

“Madame, would you enjoy a drink after your meal?”

“I would indeed. Can I have some punch? Oh, and thank you, you’re the best.” Pinkie smiled and opened her eyes.

A ghostly white stallion stood over her, hooves running through her mane. Another knelt at her side, polishing her hooves. Their wide, caring eyes met hers with pity and help. Their own manes were neat and proper, combed and styled in the same manner as a royal servant would. The thin, white forms stood against the grey stone, every movement a ballet step. Upon their bodies hung elegant robes of translucent silk. She could see more walking, if not floating, into the room. An attendant was departing and with her the empty cake plate. A dark, putrid ichor dripped from their open mouths past a missing lower jaw.

“My apologies, Madame, the only drink we serve is water. You may find the quantity at which we are able to serve it at once a decent compensation for this.”

Two soft hooves wrapped around her dangling hooves. She felt herself slowly being drawn towards the lip. Could she die here? What would happen if she drowned? The water had turned quite cold.

“Why?” She asked softly. The pulling stopped. She glanced back at the attendant who was still braiding her mane. “Why?”

“My apologies, Madame. We were requested to remove you. We can’t disobey our superiors. It isn’t proper, and it’s unsatisfactory service.”

The pulling resumed. Pinkie tilted her head up as the water neared. “Was it Anger? Did Anger tell you to do this?”

“I am sorry, Madame, but Anger was disposed with other activities. The request was not hers. I must submit another apology, Madame. I can no longer continue your braid.”

Pinkie nodded and felt a droplet of water from somewhere high above fall to rest on her face before slipping into the pool. “Ok. Can you tell Anger what happened?”

“We are not to communicate with Anger at this time. I regret to say she does not understand this and as such believes us to be something we are not.”

“You’re the angry thoughts. So, what are you really if not thoughts?”

“We are thoughts, Madame, that part is true. We are not a threat. Goodbye Madame, it was a pleasure.”

“See ya.” Pinkie replied as her head slipped under the water and was pulled down into the pit. She watched as an attendant moved to the light Anger had provided for her and began to devour it.

We're in your mind, Pinkie

Pinkie blinked. Slowly she forced her eyes open and took in what was around her. She appeared to be lying in a grassy field, a bright blue sky above her with…giant pink bubbles? She blinked again and then giggled. She moved to her hooves and felt a gentle breeze upon her face, moving through her mane. She smiled and looked around again. The field seemed to stretch on in all directions, with no intention of ever stopping. The sky didn’t seem to have any change to it either, just the blue expanse with pink bubbles in place of clouds. It was bright out, yet she couldn’t see the sun anywhere. The grass was quite soft, perfect for waking up in. She took a deep breath and sighed contently. The air smelled nice, a mix of pleasant scents.

“Hello?” Pinkie called off into the distance. Her voice echoed somehow. She laughed and tried again. “Hello?”

“Hello?” her echo resounded. It was not identical to her own though, as it seemed stretched and deeper than her utterance.

“Hah! My voice sounds silly!” she exclaimed gleefully.

She knelt down and looked closely at the grass. It was a very vivid green; the color itself seemed to be alive. Pinkie shrugged and began to bounce off in her usual manner in no particular direction. She took note of everything she passed: grass, grass, pink bubble cloud things, and more grass. The landscape never showed any sign of change. Even the pink bubbles in the sky were stationary. It was like a dream, yet she was reasonably sure she wasn’t dreaming. There were too many senses to be a dream.

“Hmm. How did I get here?” she pondered aloud without slowing her stride. “Where is here-WOAH!”

Pinkie felt something snatch her hooves, causing her to fall flat on her face. Pinkie had done this enough that it didn’t hurt, but for some reason it did cause her to become slightly dizzy momentarily. She regained her ground and turned to investigate. Upon turning, she found herself once again questioning whether this was a dream, yet something within her confirmed it wasn’t. Wherever she was, it knew her.

“But…” she said softly. Before her stood a small stack of rocks wearing a party hat. The same one she had created during the time she was certain her friends had no interest in her parties. “You?”

“Yeah, Pinkie. You were in a hurry so I had to get your attention somehow.” The pile said.

Pinkie stared at the rock pile before giggling once again. “You can’t be here, silly. You’re back home with the radishes!”

“No, the radishes are somewhere else. The sack of flour sent me to meet you.”

“Well tell her thanks!” Pinkie smiled, not completely processing what the pile had just told her. “So where am I?”

“Take a guess.”

“I’m…” Pinkie looked up and down, near and far, high and low, right and left…yet she did not recognize anything about the strange, yet wonderful place she was now in. “… not sure.”

“We’re in your mind, Pinkie.”

“My mind?”

“Sure. What did you expect your mind to look like?”

“I don’t know. But I like it here.”

“Course you do. You seem to be happy enough usually, you should like it here. In this part, anyway.”

“What was that?”

“Nothin’. Say you should follow me, I’ll tell you the rules around here.”

Pinkie frowned. “There shouldn’t be rules inside my mind.”

The pile of rocks chuckled. “Oh, I think you’ll like these well enough. For now, anyway.”

Pinkie followed the rock pile as it slid along the ground, the party hat wobbling. She looked around again, thinking about what the pile had told her. That it was her mind. Something didn’t seem right to her. If this was her mind, then why wasn’t anything pink? Where were the candy and cupcakes? Where were her friends?

“This can’t be my mind.” She thought aloud, still following the rocks. “There should be more here than just this.”

“Don’t worry, Pinks. There is.” The rocks confirmed.

“Really? Like what?”

“Patience, Pinkie. Although that is something that has been incredibly hard to find lately. We’re not sure exactly where it scampered off to.”

Pinkie cocked her head to one side and gave a very confused look.

“Don’t worry, it will all become clear. Oh, we’re here already. You must have wanted to be here.”

“What?”

“Pinkie, you will find that because this is your mind that if you want something, it will generally appear quickly. It won’t always be in front of you, but it will be around anyway. Now then…tell me what you see in front of you.”

Pinkie looked; there was no more field. There was only the vast, unchanging sky ahead.

“Look down.” The pile commanded.

Pinkie glanced down and gave a gasp. She seemed to be standing along the rim of a cliff, the side of which was coated in an equal amount of grass as the field she currently stood on.

“I don’t like heights.” Pinkie informed her companion, again in a confused manner.

“You think you don’t?” the pile seemed to laugh. “I’m a pile of rocks; how do you think I feel around them?”

“I wasn’t thinking about a cliff.”

“Then what did you want?”

“I don’t know…a change?”

“Jump.”

“What?”

“Jump off the cliff. See what happens.” The rocks seemed to gesture towards the edge.

“What?” Pinkie exclaimed. “Are you loco?”

“Not here anyway. I might be later. That clump of fluff is crazy though.”

“You really think I should jump?”

“Sure, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Pinkie made a high pitched whistling noise, followed by a ‘splat’ sound.

“Oh, don’t be crazy.”

Pinkie glanced at the pile, back at the cliff, closed her eyes, and took a leap of faith. For a moment she was falling, then she felt the incredible softness of the grass. She opened her eyes and blinked. She was standing in another field, much like the previous one, yet there seemed to be some sort of hills ahead. She smiled, laughed slightly and turned back around, expecting to see a cliff. Instead, she saw the still sky.

“Hello?” she called out, a bit worried now.

“Look down.”

The pink pony looked down to see another cliff. Yet it was not the cliff that got her attention, it was the fact that the pile of rocks seemed to be sitting just over the lip, stacked straight out, yet nothing fell away and the pile remained as it had been.

Pinkie looked back, down, up, behind her, and back at the rocks.

“I thought you didn’t like heights.” She said.

The rocks laughed. “Of course I don’t, Pinks. Come back on over.”

“What? How?”

“Just step over the edge.”

Pinkie, compelled to act, stepped over the edge and found herself walking onto the field where the rocks waited. She turned and looked down; the cliff stretched away.

“What in the hay is going on here?” she cried out, rubbing her head with her hooves.

“It’s your mind.” Said the pile. “You figure it out.”

“How can that, whatever it is, happen?”

“This coming from the pony who manages to slow herself down in mid air and enter a pool of water almost silently so she won’t disturb a friend. Really Pinkie, did you expect your mind to not have something amazing in it?”

“I’m still not sure this is my mind. My mind would have balloons, cakes, candy, and my friends would be here with me.”

“You want a party? I thought your friends didn’t like your parties.”

“Of course they do, they just were throwing a party for me.”

“Well there should be all the things you need for a party somewhere around here. Remember it’s your mind.”

The pile of rocks moved towards the lip of the cliff and passed over. Pinkie followed suit, only to find herself once again just stepping onto another field. She kept her eyes open this time, hoping to catch what was happening. She felt something happen, yet there was no sign before her to hint at what had happened.

“I have to go, Pinkie.” The rocks informed her. She started to pout; she didn’t want to be alone. “Don’t worry, we will meet again. Enjoy the party you wanted that should be around here somewhere.”

Pinkie raised a hoof to stop the rocks as they started away towards the hills off in the distance, but something held her back. The air still smelled nice. As strange as this place was, it was very nice.

“Oh, one more very important thing, Pinkie.” The pile called back towards her, “we are in your mind, whether you believe it or not. But remember this: if you stay here too long and do not manage to leave you will be trapped in your mind forever.”

“Forever?”

“Forever! You know, the amount of time a friendship will be lost if you break a promise. So try to find the door.”

“Where is it?”

“Don’t know, and that is one thing you can’t want to have and it will come to you, you have to find it on each level.”

“Each what? Wait! You didn’t tell me any rules!”

“Why should there be rules in your mind?”

“I thought you said there were!”

But the pile had moved on out of eyeshot and earshot. Pinkie looked around and shivered. She suddenly felt very alone, but happy all the same.

Different Similarities

It was a maze in every sense of the word. The dusty sandstone walls outlined a specifically woven series of paths for Pinkie Pie to follow, a completely random assortment of sprawling, roofless hallways and short, twisty passages, all alike. Each turn, every corridor, the entirety of the maze was for her, and gave new insight upon each change of direction. Pinkie could feel her through process shift here, just as the world did previously. Instead of scaling walls effortlessly, her thoughts changed radically without any defined transition save a new direction taken. This was nothing new to Pinkie, as the majority of her life had been spent in a cascade of thought and wonder. This maze was a sort of home to her, a sort of bower to become her mental temple. She had nearly cowered away from the maze upon first glance, frightened of what may lay before her, unnerved by theory and speculation. Yet, she was Pinkie Pie, she was eager and ready to face any challenge and did not dare to over think a situation, leave that to Twilight. Although, she must admit, what some may consider to be an unnecessary quantity of consideration was a beneficial strategy and to be utilized. Funny, she thought, to have to think about what all could happen should she decide to take a certain path. Everything always turned out all right, even when mistakes were made, and she had plenty of experience in impulsive effectiveness. Sure, it could be debated that she was naught more than lucky, at best, yet luck only runs so far, and she had been running, or bounding, for a good long while.

The maze itself was, besides the aforementioned sandstone walls, entrancing. Flowers of every color she had seen, and several she hadn’t, rose from the hardened ground that formed her path. The sky had become far more vibrant in hue, the light casting itself down to warm her body and illuminate her mind. Most passages were welcoming, full of health and harmony, yet they did not stand alone in their existence. Down other potential exits lay nests of gnarled roots, displaying a tangle of thorns and briars. There were other ways that housed a quaint, white mist. Thick enough to hide the ground, yet heavy enough to let her gaze upon the path before her, giving her chance to weigh the theory of risk against the desire of release. Yet none were more harrowing than the Paths of Dusk, as she had decided to name them. At first glance they were safe enough, just a bit darker. It was not that the sun did not penetrate here, it just wasn’t as present. Shadows carved an outline of the path she had the option to take, the daemon of the maze beaconing out to her with unseen fingers. Yet, this was Pinkie Pie, and she was not overly compelled to give into temptation. Beyond all of this was the lurking feeling that she was far from alone. Her sister had informed her that the other members of her now apparently darkened family were out there as well, and had their own reasons for displeasure. Then again she had four immediate members of her family, and with one already taken care of, her Pinkie sense wasn’t exactly displaying signs of warning.

As Pinkie wandered the maze, her thoughts tended to shift towards the last time she was lost within a maze of these proportions: when Discord had turned her against her own friends and caused her to lose her love of both friendship and laughter. A travesty to her and her very being, taking away the aspects of life that made her life worth living, to her at least. There was other parts she enjoyed, granted, but…laughter. There was no debate. Could this be nothing more than a trap by Discord? One of his pranks? No…this world was too close to her, and Discord, for all of his power, did not know her past. He could, and would, weave false futures for them to follow, manipulate their minds, but this was her mind. Could he…I wonder if there was anything to eat here…these walls are quite annoying, I wish I could sum…ooh, another patch of mist. Did something just move there? I…where am I?

She was in a maze of twisty, little passages, all alike. With each turn of the corner a previous thought was cast into the gloom and recesses of her mind, yet this was her mind, so another passage would bring them back. While her mind constantly moved when she would talk to others or simply go about her day, it was rather tedious to switch thoughts without some sort of mental transition. I guess they were actually mental, she pondered, as it is my mind.

Bouncing up and down didn’t work, as a new opinion of what was an optimal method of movement arose consistently. First she walked, then she found herself running along, crawling, weaving back and forth, skipping backwards, and finally shuffling sideways before she broke out into a round clearing, complete with cascading fountain and all manner of blooming flowers.

“Well, seems you finally arrived, my dear sister.” A voice called to her from the other side of the clearing. The owner of the voice was not a surprise, as Pinkie had been, for a while now, expecting her to step forward and present the challenge that inevitably followed the greeting.

“Sister!” Pinkie cried out. Why couldn’t she remember her name? “I’m super happy to see you!”

“Save it.” The other retorted. “You think you can win me over through your incessant smiling and happiness? Oh, I’m Pinkie and I’m here to make you smile, I enjoy laughing so much, my life is so wonderful. You’re pathetic.”

“I’m sorry, sister. I didn’t ever mean to hurt any of you. I love you guys!”

“Right, yeah.”

“I do! Cross my heart and hope to fly, st—”

“Oh, just SHUT UP! I’m not interested in hearing your cute catchphrases, and you are in no position to even consider talking to me as a friend.”

Pinkie Pie glanced down in despair. She had figured that her previous sister had chased her because she was avoiding setting things right. She had Pinkie Promised herself that from then on she would be brave and face her family, and try as hard as she could to repair the damage done. The problem was, she didn’t have any idea why her family was mad at her. Leaving, she could have guessed, but her sister did admit that her family did have their own anger towards Pinkie.

“Let me clue you in, sister. I’m willing to guess that you don’t know why I am mad at you, right?” The other sneered. She was correct. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me that you don’t know. You’re not exactly the smartest pony out there. In fact, it would be pretty hard to find somepony more airheaded and generally clueless than you.”

“What? I’m not clueless, and my friends think I’m smart.”

“Really? Did your friends believe you when you were gathering instruments to fight the parasprites?”

“No, but they said they were sorry, and that they promised to listen to me from then on.”

“Uh-huh. How many times have they asked for your opinion? To solve a problem? To help out with something? Here’s a better question, how many times have they just left you out while some other pony fixes what you caused?”

Tears formed, once again, in the corners of Pinkie Pie’s eyes, yet the small voice came back to her, telling her that she was not allowed to be sad here, this was the state of happiness. She fought back her sadness and faced her sister.

“Sis, I’m sorry for what I did to you. You’re right, I don’t remember why you are mad at me, but I’m sure that you’re right in doing so. Can you forgive me? Seeing somepony who I care about sad or angry makes me sad.”

Her sister smiled. “Sorry Pinkie, but you won’t be let off that easy. Our sister may have decided to just tell you her problem, but you will have to search for mine. Notice how in this maze instead of the world shifting it’s your mind?”

“I thought this world was my mind. Does that mean my mind is inside my mind?”

Her sister blinked twice and moved on. “Anyway, in my maze it’s not the walls and world that shift, it’s your thought process.”

“It’s been doing that for a while sister, you need to learn how plan surprised better.”

“Don’t even. You don’t even…” her sister took a deep breath and continued. “The continuation of the maze is a little test. I refuse to tell you why I’m mad. Instead, you have to find the right passage, which will tell you in thought a piece of why I’m mad. Some are memories, some are ponderings, some are not to be expected. But, only the right passages will tell you why you need to say sorry, and only when you know the whole reason will I let you apologize to me and let me choose to forgive you or not.”

Her sister vanished into the maze; Pinkie stood dazed. She had to find out why her sister was mad through a collection of random thoughts and opinions, and hope she was on the right track? How could she do that? A smile slowly spread across her face as the answer came to her: randomness. Her sister said that she couldn’t solve any problem, that someone else had to fix her messes? Dear sister, you have introduced a problem that takes absolute random luck to figure out, and who to better solve a random problem than the pony who might as well have invented the idea of random.

“So it’s a game?” Pinkie Pie shouted into the maze, with no answer. It didn’t matter really, just as long as there were prizes to be found.

Questions and Answers

"So how are we going to get up there?"

"I don't know, Pinkie. Every time we start up it gets worse."

"I didn't even know mud could do that."

"Do what?"

"Stick your hooves to the wall."

"That's because it's mud!"

After a long and tedious process of removing Anger from the wall, she and Pinkie had attempted the climb up to the Giant's Room again and again with no avail. By now the wind was screaming down the incredibly steep, muddy, ice covered, narrow climb. Eventually Anger had declared it was impossible, nopony could ascend that climb. Anger had slumped down against a rock, muttering both words and what could have been words if a few more vowels had been present. Pinkie, however, was having a great time. She had discovered an ability to slightly shift the aura of light Anger had following her around. With this new discovery every dark hole was unveiled, new wonders of the cave appeared. Helictite, blossoming out into fantastic forms that cast magnificent shadows upon the wall, flowstone coated ridges trapped waterfalls in time, and beautiful draperies found their way into the light, coaxed by some unknown desire to be seen.

"Wait a minute, these things weren't here before." said Pinkie, coming close to the speleothems.

"I know. They move around to help confuse me." snorted Anger.

"Ah. Is this that meanie Grump's work again?"

"Nah that's all mine. I made it to cause the angry thoughts to get lost. Least I know it works well! I hate this cave." Anger yelled up at the climb. She rose and turned around, sighing at Pinkie who was still entranced by the drapery, which had moved another two feet. "Look Pinkie, I want to get you out and you want to get out right?"

"I dunno, I could stay her a bit longer." Pinkie replied, poking the drapery with a hoof.

"No, you want to leave."

"I'm alright staying here."

"We are getting you out."

"Of this room?"

"Of my state of mind."

"What's the capital, then?"

"What?"

"The capital, of your state."

"I...I...MOVE!" Anger roared as she shoved Pinkie from the room.

"Hey! What about the color?"

"There's another way up to the Giant's Room." Anger hissed.

"Yay! Where is it?"

"I don't know."

A flash of bewilderment crossed Pinkie's face before disappearing again. She shrugged and moved on, following Anger. With each new passage the cave provided for them came a new challenge. Anger's disappointment concerning the passage up to the Giant's Room came through the cave. Brisk, rushing rivers would disappear upon entry, pits and crevasses opened up to either side with an ominous friendliness about their tempting drops, and the passages seemed to shrink as to allow their light to fill the void. It seemed that even in defeat and imprisonment Anger still held a grasp in her mind, enough to make adjustments to immediate features. The drapery followed them, moving stealthily behind them so as not to be seen moving.

"Good to see you again." Pinkie smiled at the drapery as they stopped to rest. "Say, why do I get tired if I'm just a state of mind?"

"Are you serious?" snapped Anger.

"I am serious about a lot of things."

"Don't talk."

"Can I talk to the drapery?"

"Does that involve making noise?"

"Yes."

"THEN NO!"

The pink pony frowned and moved past her grey counterpart to admire the room. Long grey walls stretched from the rocky floor up into a perfect dome. Gypsum crystals flowered and sprung from the rock to form an eternal garden. Adjacent to them lay another gaping mouth of a passage. Long cylindrical stalactites sang their endless song of dripping water in perfect, monotonous harmony. It was easy to think about nothing more than color, and forget just how beautiful white and grey could be. A drop of water fell from high above her, striking her nose. She giggled and opened her mouth to accept the next drop. It was cold. The light disappeared suddenly, leaving her in total darkness.

"Hey, what happened?"

"Quiet!" Anger hissed. She was at Pinkie's side.

"What's going on?" Pinkie whispered back. She felt a hoof clamp itself over her mouth. Her wide eyes peered into the nothingness that surrounded them, her ears pricked up, and her senses became acute to everything besides sight. Nothing happened. Water dripped into the darkness, repeating their endless chore. Anger's cold hoof remained over her mouth. Eventually she released her grip.

"Ok." The light appeared again. Anger moved away from Pinkie and towards an exit.

"Wait!" Pinkie called out. "What was that?"

"Something passed by. Something I really don't feel like dealing with right now."

"Wait." Pinkie called again, halting the other. "I have some questions."

"Are they worth my time?"

"They are worth mine."

Anger turned with a smirk. "Look at you standing up for yourself, a little less happy and a bit more in connection with what is real. So what do you want to know?"

"Why are you so cold?"

Anger sighed, sitting down on a rock. Pinkie found her own seat. Water dripped on her shoulder.

"Do you feel it? The cold? Do you feel it seep up through the rocks and the floor and into your very being? That's the thing about the cold, it doesn't matter whether it's the physical body or just us in the mind. Cold isn't restricted. It doesn't choose or show favoritism."

"Cold? I'm fine."

"Take a look around you. What do you see?"

"I see rocks and water, and some white stuff on the walls."

"I'll tell you what you see. You see black, white, and grey. You need color to be warm. Your state of mind is warm because there's color. You don't feel the cold because there is none to be found in you. Try being me some time; try being grey. Try being cold."

Anger rose to start off again. Pinkie remained where she was, her eyes lowered. A sigh resonated through the dome.

"Ok, what is it now?" Anger snapped at her.

"Take a seat, Anger." Pinkie nodded towards the rock. Her tone was short.

Anger raised a grey eyebrow and shrugged, sitting back down.

"Nopony has explained to me how the colors will get me out of this place." Pinkie turned a hard stare towards Anger. "Grump informed me if I retrieved the colors I would be able to get out, and now you want to get the colors as well. You say they will help me. How will they help me?"

Anger chuckled. "So harsh, Pinkie. Strange isn't it? To feel a bit harsh. You're not used to the mind, to being within what was created while away from the world. Your mindset may be joy, but you are here in my frame of mind. Doesn't matter that you are the happy one, in here you may as well be an extension of me." She took a breath, smiling. "This world is grey. If you ask smart ponies, like that Twilight one, they will tell you black means there isn't any color. Wrong. It's grey that means all color has gone."

"So if we find the colors..."

"If we find the colors then the grey is replaced with color. The cold goes away. The colors mean a way through the grey."

Pinkie nodded, and flashed a joyful smile. "I always thought that being angry made you hot in the head, not cold."

Anger snorted. "Odd, how that works. Come on, we have some color to find."

Anger rose and promptly walked out of the dome. Pinkie smiled and trotted after her. "Hey! If you don't know where the other entrance is, how do you know where to go?"

The hooffalls in front of her stopped, irritated words came mumbling out, then the sound of movement continued.