... or Derpy and Flitter's Fairly Fairy Fable Fantastic
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The Big Butterfly Brouhaha
... or Derpy and Flitter's Fairly Fairy Fable Fantastic
There sits a little pony upon a bridge. Her name, her name it is Derpy. She sits there fairly often, all on her own and so alone. I say, she sits there all alone with her pretty butt planted on the path to Ponyville as I pass her by in the afternoon and pause. She has bubbles on her butt—the poor pony has bubbles on her butt—but the strangest thing of all, I say, the strangest thing of all are her eyes when she sits there merely looking. Each globe is pointing so bright and attentive, with their calm golden irises in different directions, as if she was trying hard, so hard to watch sunrise and sunset dance together; to watch the sun and the moon in the sky dancing together, sunbeam in moon ray.
What manner of sights is she seeing that make her smile such sweet and soulful smiles? I wonder, oh yes, and everypony knows that she's a pretty odd one out, but ask them all you want; no pony will tell you what she's seeing when she sits there all on her own.
Call me Flitter, for that is my name by which I am called. Flitter. See the critters on my flank? I collect them, yes, and that is my job. Flitter finds them; Flitter fetches them; Flitter makes sure every flitterin' critter's in the book with name and look so fine. That is why I go out here in the fields and forests every day. It is where all the little ones live, and I must know them all; yes, I must find them all.
But one eludes me today; it eludes me still. I call it … the Fairly Shy Fairy Fly, even more shy it would seem than Fluttershy, that poor dear. Fluttershy—oh dear, so shy—she told me she saw a butterfly hiding in a bush the other day, and never before have I seen the likes of what she described to me. It shall be mine, all mine! And so I must find it first.
Derpy is sitting there again today with her butt so firmly planted in the ground and her eyes on something no pony else can see. Her little gray ear flicks adorably as a Silver-washed Fritillary settles on its furry tip. The butterfly, oh but the butterfly is undeterred in its endeavor, and so it flitters about her head to settle instead in her corn-blond mane. Perhaps I shall see if she has seen my fairy fly, so fair and shy.
I don't mean to frighten the poor dear—no, I don't mean to startle no pony—so here I follow the road to approach her. She just sits there until I stand right in front of her. I don't think she saw me coming at all, but she just smiles and says, “Hi Flitter!” with one eye looking at my nose, the other in the sky.
I wonder if something sits on my nose, and I rub it, rub it with a hoof as I say, “Hi Derpy.” What else can I say? And then I ask, “May I sit here next to you?”
And she says, yes she says, “No.” I say—yes, I must say—I didn't expect that. I look a little confused, and she just smiles up at me so bright. “Bubbles sits there, silly, but you can sit over here on my left,” she says and pats the ground to her right.
I don't ask her about it. They say she ain't quite right in the head—no, not quite right—but a good pony still indeed. I trot around her and sit down on her right, and I look, yes I look down the road as she does so often herself, but I don't see anything there but road and fields and sky and forest. Then I ask, I ask the question on my mind, “What are you looking at, Derpy? You sit out here almost every day, all alone. Don't you ever get bored?”
She giggles like a little filly. Oh, but isn't hers the sweetest little laugh? “Silly you, I'm not alone. Bubbles is here with me, aren't you?” she coos at the space next to her and tickles the air like it was a pet with an ear to scratch. “Yes you are.”
Oh, but don't I chuckle a bit at my own silliness. I must be a very silly pony, though I couldn't say why. It is a sad pony, a pony so sad who can't chuckle at herself. “Yes, of course, how silly of me. So what are you and … and Bubbles looking at out here?”
“We're watching the trots,” she says so sweetly, as if the meaning of that is so very self-evident, so evident in itself. “We watch them every day to make sure nothing comes out that shouldn't come out.”
I am, to say the least, mildly perplexed. Yes, perplexed am I at her puzzling words and kindly look. “The trots?” I ask, because it is the best I can ask.
“The paths, you know. The trots,” she explains with great patience and sweetness. “But you probably can't see them. Bubbles and I can, and that's why we have to watch them, because not many ponies can. It's a really important job that we have to do.”
“Oh,” I say. I squint at the road ahead, but it's just a road like any other. It is a little blurred by my squint but very easy to recognize as a road: gravel, stones and wheel tracks, occasional tufts of grass and flowers. We have a lot of roads here. This one looks just like the one I live on at the other side of town. Quite like it. In fact it practically is the same road, isn't it? Except this one leads out of Ponyville towards the Whitetail Woods and Los Pegasus, but if you follow it the other way? Every road goes two ways, they say.
“So, um,” I continue. “I don't suppose you've seen any butterflies around?”
She gives me one of her charming little grins, bright eyes swirling round and around in her head. “Yeah! There's a butterfly,” she says proudly and points at a blank patch of sky. Oh, but it isn't hard, not hard at all to see the little winged critters she intended to point at. “They sit in the bushes and on my head. They tickle me sometimes.”
I squint a bit and shade my eyes with a hoof in the light of the low-hanging sun. “Oh yes, they're called Small Whites. We get many of them around here,” I explain. I know all the little critters by name; all the little critters' names I know.
“Huh, that's what they're called?” Derpy is still staring at two different patches of sky, both quite free of butterflies. “That's a silly name. They're neither small, nor white. More like big and blue.”
I am getting increasingly baffled by my wall-eyed friend. “Uh, yes,” is all I can say as I look around, trying to spot what other butterflies she may be seeing. There are, in fact, no blue butterflies around, but I let it pass. I'm beginning to wonder if asking Derpy is any help at all, but I press on, always hopeful, hopeful am I. “I'm actually looking for a very special butterfly,” I begin.
“Uh huh,” she says, looking around with great interest, eyes everywhere but me—eyes with a look so full and innocent, but looking nowhere at me.
“Yeah, it's really big. It's almost the size of your head with its wings unfolded,” I say and try to show—I show without exaggeration using my hooves—just how big Fluttershy had said it was. “And it's all shiny and glittery with gold and orange and yellow,” I continue and notice that Derpy has a look of surprise upon her face. “Except, it also has two black eyes, and when it moves its wings it sometimes looks like glass, so when it flies it's … blinking. And then it simply vanished.”
Derpy is giving me a strange look. Oh, but I must sound very strange, strange indeed with my tales of blinking butterflies, blinking flies and black eyes. And then she says, she says, “You mean the Fairy Queen?”
I scratch my head, scratch away. “I … suppose it does sound a little queen-like, doesn't it? I mean, for a butterfly it sure is big and flashy. Why, have you seen it?” I look at her hopefully, eagerly. “I'm sure you couldn't have missed it if you had.”
“Why are you looking for her?”
Her? Oh, I suppose … “Fluttershy told me she saw a really strange butterfly, because I collect them.” I hesitate before adding, adding with a smile that says, says I'm not crazy, “She did say it looked like a tiny little pony with butterfly wings, and it did disappear quite suddenly. I'm sure she was just a bit excited or frightened that day. You know Fluttershy.”
“Fluttershy saw the Fairy Queen?” Derpy looks momentarily confused, then suddenly very tense. I can't imagine why; it's just a butterfly. I mean, sure, I get very excited about new butterflies, but no other pony really thinks its such a big deal.
I'm a little startled when the gray pegasus jumps up and stomps the ground, glaring down the road. “I just don't know how she got out. I have to find out!” She spins around and looks at me, at least as well as Derpy can. “Where did Fluttershy see her?”
“Near her cottage,” I say, still shocked, a little bit shocked. “I can show you where she showed me.”
Derpy is already galloping, galloping off and away towards Fluttershy's cottage. I stumble back on my hooves and set off to follow her, beating my wings really hard to catch up. She's running fast, really fast.
* * *
I can see Fluttershy's cottage now, with Derpy running up ahead, running like the wind. The cottage looks dark, and I don't think Fluttershy is home. She's probably with her friends having dinner or something, something nice, quite nice. Dinner would be good, quite nice, but right now we're running, running, run—oh, Derpy stops and sticks her head in a bush.
Growl, growl! That was my stomach and not a bear taking a nap in the bushes, not that you can ever be sure in Fluttershy's garden. I wonder if Cloudchaser is up for pizza later.
I catch up with Derpy. Now I just need to catch up with my breath too. Look at it going! “Fluttershy—” I huff “—said she saw it—“ and puff “—on the other side of the … house.” I really need to get in better shape. Rainbow Dash will hound me from here to Baltimare and back again if she finds out. I think my wing power has actually decreased. Cloudchaser says it's the pizza, but what does she know? Just because she takes yoga classes and is oh-so flexible and trains all week long.
“I can—” Oh sweet breath of mine! “—show you where.”
Derpy disappears entirely into the bush, tail last to be seen. There's a lot of rustling and turning, and then her head emerges. Her mane is full of leaves and branches. That's going to take some work to get out. What a mess.
“Yes,” she says with a sagely nod and stumbles out of the bush. She's such an odd pony, she is.
We hurry around the cottage, and I show her the place where Fluttershy showed me, where Fluttershy showed me the place. It was behind the chicken coop, right there in the bushes and branches behind the coop of chickens, that she saw the strange butterfly; the one big butterfly that Derpy seems to think is a Queen of Fairies, that I called the Fairly Shy Fairy Fly.
I watch as Derpy pokes about in the bramble bushes. She's nosing around in the bushes, nose close to the ground and eyes going round and around. She looks a bit like a dog, if a dog had eyes that rolled around like a dog in a mud bath. I finally catch my breath and manage to ask the most burning of questions, which is this, “What exactly are we doing, Derpy?”
“Looking for the trot,” I hear her say somewhere in a bush. I've never seen any pony, mare or colt, trot around in a bush, so why would a bush have a trot? “It may be around here. We need to find it before the Queen can use it to escape with all her evil little fairies.”
Evil little fairies, huh? I follow her as she emerges from the bushes and circles around the chicken coop, holding her head low and sighting along the ground near the chicks' coop. “Fairies? You mean like in the pony tales?”
Derpy suddenly rushes forward, up the little steps to the coop, and sticks her head into the little chicken house. I hear squawks and nervous clucks from the chickens as the pegasus peers into their pen. “Aha!” she exclaims loudly and causes a minor chicken cataclysm. I watch in puzzled silence as she pulls her feathered head out again and points. “It's there! Clever, clever. The Fairy Queen got out through the coop. It's in there!” she says excitedly, so excited.
Before I can protest I have my head stuck through the door to the chicken coop. I can't see anything, only chickens wildly squawking and fluttering about with feathers, hay and eggs going everywhere. These are the things you would expect to find in a chicken coop. Quoth the chicken, nothing more. “Uh, Derpy? I don't—”
“Look straight at the back of the coop,” she says, and I feel her take hold of my head, pointing it straight at the back wall of the coop. “Look straight,” she says, like she's one to talk about looking straight. I wonder in passing what looking straight even means to Derpy. “Don't blink.”
I look straight, and do I try not to blink, but it's hard with chickens flying around everywhere, flying chickens in your face. “Derpy, what—” I begin. Then I have two hooves squishing my face and scrunching it all up. “What are you doing?” I demand. It's really rather awkward standing here with my head in Fluttershy's chicken coop and Derpy scrunching up my face.
“Squint a bit,” she says behind me. “Squint, and look straight ahead. Try to look to the right and behind the back wall.”
“What?!” I squint as hard as I can and look straight ahead. I can't also look to the right or through the wall. What does she even mean by that? My mane is getting really messed up, and I think my hair bow is tickling my leg. I really hope it's my hair bow and not a big hairy spider. That's what I very much hope, sir!
It's not working; no sir, not working. I can't imagine what she wants me to see like this. Like this I couldn't see the broadside of a barn if it walked right up to me and introduced itself. My, but that is a very broad side you've got there, Miss Barn. “This is silly Der—”
Then, and just then Derpy bonks me on the head. With a hoof she bonks my pretty head pretty hard, right on the top of my pretty head. Now I'm on the floor, and there's a chicken on my noggin. It flies away with a squawk as I groan and roll my eyes. My eyes they roll like balls on a bowling lane, and then, yes, now I see!
Sweet Celestia's Sweets!
Sweet Holy Mother of Celestia!
“You see? You see?!” Derpy is chattering wildly behind me. I can't really hear her, because I'm way too busy staring and squinting and trying not to lose it. What in Tartarus am I looking at here? There's a sort of hole, right there in the middle of the wall. I'm pretty sure it wasn't there before. No it wasn't there before, definitely. And that doesn't look like the bushes behind Fluttershy's chicken coop. No bushes, no. I seem to be looking at a wild and untamed path through a forest of giant mushrooms, but that can't be right. No bushes.
I'm afraid if I move or blink, it'll all be gone, and I'll wonder forever if it was just my imagination or maybe a trick of the light. Or Derpy's bonk on my head. Yes, that'd surely do it.
Derpy lets go of me, and I must have blinked, but it's still there, still there right in front of my nose: a hole in the back of the chicken coop leading to a mushroom forest and a strange path. “Derpy, what is going on?” I ask, because it's a good question, and I really don't know. You just try to think of a better question with your head stuck in a magical chicken coop leading to a strange and mysterious world of mushrooms. I'd like to see you try.
“You see! You see!” Derpy jumps up and down behind me. I can't decide if she's happy or just being … well, Derpy about it. I don't even know what I should feel about it. “That's the trot, the one the Queen of Fairies must have used.” I wonder what Fluttershy would feel about it if she knew there was a magical passage to a strange fairyland in the back of her chicken coop.
I am well and utterly confused now, confused out of my mind. I pull myself out of the chicken coop and back into the fresh air. I turn around and look at … Derpy, but I almost can't recognize her. Her eyes, yes her eyes actually look at me, will you believe that? Both of them, right at me. But that's not the strangest thing, oh no. The very strangest thing, I say the strangest thing of all the many strangest things in the whole wide weird world, is how they seem to shine and … Actually, that's not even close to the strangest thing, not even close to close. Positively the strangest thing, without doubt, is the giant glowy guitarfish swimming in the air behind her—yes, its swimming in the air behind her—making little bubbly noises.
She must have hit my head harder than I thought. She must have hit it very badly. I try to act cool, because when you're going crazy you may as well go all the way and act normal. “I, uh, take it this is Bubbles? Your, um, floaty fish pet?”
“Yes,” Derpy says like it's the most natural thing to talk about in the whole world. Possibly it even is. Perhaps we haven't even begun to get strange yet. Derpy flies up behind the floating fish of light and pushes it towards me. “This is Bubbles. Bubbles, this is Flitter. Say hi, Bubbles!”
I give the fish a little shake of a fin. It seems to be happy, but at least it acts like other fish and doesn't say much or do much. After a few seconds I realize I am still shaking its fin and probably making myself look stupid. I let go and try to act like nothing happened. “So …” I say, looking around. At least Fluttershy's garden looks its same old samey self. That's a relief, a relief indeed. Actually, it's almost a disappointment. Compared to that mushroom forest, and Derpy and her bright friend, Fluttershy's cottage looks positively drab. “Have I gone mad, Derpy? Did you knock me out of my senses?”
Derpy looks horrified at the suggestion. “No, Miss Flitter. I would never hurt your head,” she says, and I distinctly remember all the damage she did to the town hall that one time, and how she probably gave Rainbow Dash a concussion on numerous occasions. They say she's a bit of a flying disaster. A good heart, though, and a good friend, but still a living catastrophe. Seemingly ignorant of my thoughts—for which I am thankful, so thankful—she continues, “You've gone sane.”
“I have gone … sane,” I repeat.
“Yes,” Derpy says patiently, so patient. “Not many ponies can see the world of the fairies, but I thought you might, and I was right.” She's practically beaming, practically literally glowing with golden light and clapping her hooves together. “You're different too, but only a little bit.”
Should I take offense at that? I don't even know … “And …” I can't take my eyes off her and the glowing guitarfish. “And you?”
Her bubbly, glowy mood fades, and now she looks kinda gloomy and gray like a rainy day. “I was taken by the fairies when I was but a little foal,” she explains. “They do that sometimes. Sometimes they sneak out through one of these here trots and steal away ponies, or they only touch them and leave them changed a little bit, like you.”
Consider me still more baffled. I don't remember any fairies, except in books and tales. Fairy tales in fact. “The fairies? Fairies steal ponies?”
“Yes, if they can get away with it.” Derpy scowls at the chicken coop behind me. That magical wondrous chicken coop. “That's why we have to watch the trots to make sure the fairies don't slip out and cause mischief. Sometimes a small one gets out, and it's my job to catch it before it causes too much damage.”
A light … lights up in my spinning head. Aha! You ever get those moments? When you want to say, “Oh, now I get it!” And then I say, “Oh, now I get it! So all the chaos you always get blamed for?”
“Really goblins, fairies and other bothersome crawl that no pony else can see,” Derpy says, now back to her bubbly self. “But I get them in the end, 'cause I'm really good at what I do. There aren't many ponies like me around Ponyville, so I'm always busy watching the trots.”
I look back at the chicken coop. “Like this one?”
“Yes,” she says brightly and flaps her wings. “That's a new one. Sometimes new ones appear, or old ones disappear, so I have to watch them carefully and find out where the new ones go, because sometimes they open up in two or more places, and if you only find one then the fairies can still get out at the other end.”
Every road goes two ways, I recall. Two ways, and two ends. I glance into the chicken coop. The strange hole with the mushroom forest is still there. I watch the chickens blissfully unaware of it as they cluck and scratch at the ground. “So we have to go in there?”
Derpy disappears into the chicken coop and trots through the hole in the back. I watch her wander down the narrow path between the giant mushrooms. I suppose that answers it. I could just leave, right? Oh who am I kidding, no pony could just walk away from this sort of thing. Curiosity killed the cat, and maybe the pony too.
In I go. Into the chicken coop, and out into the mushroom world of fairies and fantasies.
* * *
I walk under a mushroom bridge. It's just two giant mushrooms which have grown together, but it really looks like a bridge. I look around and wonder if the little noises I can hear among all the mushrooms are fairies. Sometimes I think I can hear giggles—like, right there! Aww, it's gone again.
Oh well. Derpy is looking very glum up ahead, and Bubbles … well, Bubbles is floating along like a big floaty fish would do and does. I try to keep up and stay close, because I think we've only walked for a minute or two, but I'm already totally lost and would probably not be able to find my own tail if I lost sight of Derpy. It's kinda scary, but I'm a brave pony, a brave pony in a brave new world. Yes.
Derpy seems to have a handle on things. Derpy seems to know what she's doing, yes. Derpy is cool, so I'm totally cool too. I'm not really afraid at all. Why, with somepony like Derpy leading the way, who could possibly be afraid? Stop laughing, you nasty little fairies. I mean it!
“Um, d-do you hear something too?” I ask, looking back over my shoulder at a patch of reddish-green mushrooms—I don't recall passing them by—at where I thought I heard giggles. “I think something is following us,” I add.
My bubbly friend doesn't look. She's so cool. She's probably done this a thousand times before. “Yes,” she says like it's totally nothing to worry about. “Probably pixies, maybe an imp. They're everywhere in here, but they're not much trouble unless they catch you unawares, or you're new.”
I find it hard to imagine how anything that giggles and makes noises all the time could possibly catch anypony unawares. But I am new around here; that is sure and true. I look behind me a little more carefully. Now the mushrooms behind us are yellow and bigger than I remember them. I look up at the sky through the narrow cracks in the mushroom cover. “Um, why don't we just fly instead?” Up there it is hard for little giggling things to hide and snicker at you behind your back.
“Oh, no no no no,” Derpy says and shakes her head vigorously, making her corn-blond mane stand out like a big golden aura around her head. “You don't want to be out in the open. That's where everything can see you,” she says almost cheerfully. “And there are lots of things with eyes out there that can see you. Things worse than pixies and imps.”
“Oh,” I say despondently. “So, um, where are we going?”
“Wherever the trot leads. It knows the way.”
That's … reassuring. Yes, I feel very reassured. And then we round a mushroom, and now we're looking out over a vast field of tall grass, just like that. I look back, and the mushroom forest definitely moved a few miles in the time it took me to take one step. It is now very far behind us, just visible on the horizon. “Where did … how did …” I stutter hopelessly.
“Don't mind the land; it does as it pleases,” Derpy explains as she begins the small descent into the fields below. “Oh, and look out for tigers in here. They like tall grasses.”
How can she say that so casually? “Oh, um, thanks for the warning,” I say weakly as I follow her into the maw of the tiger … or at least into the field where the tiger's maw may be waiting. Hungry, hungry tiger, here we come.
Now there's only grass around us and a big yellow sky above. Grass, grass everywhere. I look and see, all around us just walls of grass growing into heaven. I follow close behind Derpy as she pushes a path through the plain of grass, shoving aside grass. I hope she knows where the tigers are. I look around, still thinking I can hear little gleeful giggles, but they are now further behind us. Do they know where the tigers lie in wait? Nasty little pixies. I bet they do.
Derpy is looking attentive now too. Her ears are perked and her eyes scanning the grass, but it's just grass, isn't it? I can't help but notice that she's walking a little faster. I wonder if I dare ask about tigers. Was that a rustle in the grass somewhere over there? Sweet Celestia, I think it was! Oh no, we're gonna die! We're totally gonna get gnawed on by great big tigers! Aahh!
“Don't run!” Derpy screams, but I'm already galloping wildly off, feeling the teeth on my tail. “Not that way!” I hear her, and then I think, yes I think, I think there was a roar! Sweet Celestia, I think there was another! I'm gonna die! I'm so gonna die!
I leap and kick and twist and turn and zig zag wildly through the great plain of endless grass and roaring tigers everywhere! They're everywhere! It's all over. They're all over! And the giggles, giggles everywhere, laughing at me. They know! They know I'm gonna die now!
Aahh! They got me! They're everywhere! Teeth and claws and little hands everywhere. I kick and scream and struggle to get free, but it's no hope, no hope as they drag me off through the grass. I'm done for! I'm sorry, my friends. I'm so sorry! I love you all!
* * *
Well, if this is my final fate, it sure is dragging out, it is. I gaze up at the billowing green sky as little sticky hands carry me around through grass and fields and forests and rocky mountains. It's very disorienting being on your back, tied up with what looks like silky strands. I don't want to know where the spinner of those threads went. I do not want to know!
“Excuse me, um … you. Where are you taking me, if you don't mind me asking?” I ask of the fluttering things carrying me. They do not much look like tigers; no tigers here I see.
Something flutters down from above and settles on my hooves. Oh no, it's the spinner! It brushes its snow-white wing with a long slender leg and looks down at me with its evil insect eyes. It says nothing, nothing it says and sits, sits there like a scavenging bird watching, just watching me. Sweet Celestia, it's watching me with cold insect eyes!
Wait … wait just a minute. That's not … I blink. It doesn't blink back, no blinking back. “You're the tiger!” I exclaim and know it to be true. “You're a tiger moth!”
It doesn't blink. It doesn't move. It watches still, so still. “I am Prince Consort Tenera,” he says, and he says it in my head. “I greet you on behalf of our esteemed Queen.” And then he says no more. Then he says no more and simply sits, sits so regally, resting upon my hooves.
I sigh and decide to make the best of the situation. I try to make myself comfortable on my rolling blanket of little hands, and I begin to hum at the hummingbirds flying overhead. They look kinda like hummingbirds anyway, but I bet they're really not.
Oh hey, I think we're slowing down. Was that a tiny little house? I think this is it … This is where they set me down on a big throne and tell me I'm their goddess or something. Either that or a big bubbling pot for me. Please let it be the former. I've never been a goddess before. I suppose I haven't been a stew before either, but it doesn't sound very fun. Princess Flitter, now that I like. As long as this moth resting upon my hooves won't be my Prince Charming.
The fair prince, the fairy prince, he does now leave me be. Off my hoof he now takes wing and silently leaves me be. Oh, there's a big cage now, and … Ah yes, I go in the cage. Right in the cage I go. The prince is gone, gone as the doors they close.
“Um, do you mind untying my legs?” I call after him and try to look around, but he is gone. “Anyone? Hello?” And then I'm all alone. I guess they went to prepare the cauldron; or the coronation. I sigh and try to wriggle my legs. One of them is sleeping, which would be fine if I was too.
“Hello? Anypony out there?”
* * *
You have no idea how boring this is. The books are all lies, lies, lies. And here I lie, wondering when something's gonna happen. If this was a Daring Do adventure, I can bet you things would have been interesting. Things would have been going on, but this is just me lying here on my back, tied up in a cage. Occasionally something pokes at me, or I hear faint giggles somewhere. And then—
Boooooom! and Bang!
“Finally! It's been hours at least!” I yell in complaint as I close my eyes tightly. There sure is a lot of light and yelling and screaming, and now I think I smell smoke and hear the crackling of fire as it eats wood and fairy wings, maybe. I sure hope the fire won't reach my cage and roast me alive. I listen to all the little gigglers yelling, and I think they're scrambling to get somewhere; probably where the explosion was.
“Psst! Flitter!”
I try to look around and catch a glimpse of Derpy's golden eyes outside the cage. “Oh, hey Derpy,” I say and obediently go silent when she holds a hoof up to her lips. I know that sign. It means she's got some awesome plan, I bet. Who am I to ruin that?
She disappears again, and I wait some more. There's some fumbling with the cage behind me. I can only imagine she's masterfully manipulating the mechanism of the lock. Yes, any minute now she'll open it with silent flair, and we'll be out and away before any of these dumb fairies are the wiser. That's heroism, right out of a Daring Do adventure, yes sir! Actually, come to think of it, Derpy does look a little bit like Daring, doesn't she? I wonder—
Okay, now she's grumbling and cursing a lot. That's not very ladylike. Also, she's bucking the cage now. It's shaking violently and making lots of noise. I guess that's, um, very heroic too, in its own way. “Um, better hurry up,” I say as I hear the yelling getting closer now. “Better hurry up a lot!”
This won't end well, I think, and just then I hear wood shattering, and the door of the cage tumbles past. Alright! Go Derpy! And there she is, biting and pulling at the webs on my hooves. The gigglers aren't far away now, but right now they're mostly yellers, and they're being very angry at it too.
I'm free! I stumble back on my legs. Derpy helps me, and we're off. Off we go! Go go go!
It's not easy to run when you've just been tied up for hours, and your legs have been sleeping, and you've been lying awkwardly on your wings, let me tell you that. It's more like a stumbling bumbling fumbling roll down a hill with yelling gigglers right on your tail. The books lie a lot about this part too.
“Derpy, help!” I cry out. She's running up ahead. I guess she's been reading books too.
She looks around and turns, quickly picking me up and carrying me as we fly. Things are moving much faster now. I almost dare to hope we have a chance. That was until I heard the humming. I look up and turn my head as best I can to see the hummingbirds swoop down from the sky in great hordes and pick up our pursuers. The gigglers, now turned yellers, are riding hummers.
I beat my aching wings, trying to give Derpy a boost, but they're still catching up. Derpy kicks out at a close hummer, sending it crashing into a bunch of others.
“There are too many,” I yell over the beating of wings and howling of winds and cursing of fairies.
Derpy kicks another pair and sways dangerously. Now they are upon us in force; a swarm of angry hummers. I kick frantically at everything. I think I hit a few but can't be sure. And then our little escape is over. Looks like the books lied about this too.
* * *
I think they are taking us to their queen this time. Maybe they were waiting until they had us all. I wonder if this is the fairy queen Derpy talked about, the one who may be my butterfly. I'm almost excited now to see her. Is that wrong?
Yes, they are definitely taking us somewhere special. There are hummers and gigglers—they have stopped yelling and gone back to giggling—and other less defined critters, all standing or hovering or floating around. Oh look, they got poor Bubbles too. She—I think it's a she, but you can't really tell with a fish, can you?—is in a big aquarium with water and all. I suppose that amounts to a prison for a flying glowing guitarfish.
“You monsters,” Derpy cries and struggles a little harder against her captors when she sees Bubbles bubbling around in the tank of water. It's not much good, but I can't fault her, can't fault her at all.
Ah, and that, yes that would be the queen of fairies right there with her fair prince and consort beside her. He's just sitting there again, watching and silently sitting, like a little gargoyle with white wings and gold, dressed in armor that shines and gleams.
But the queen, now the queen you can't possibly mistake for anything else. No, you definitely can't. And now I must say that Fluttershy's description makes loads more sense. She has a throne, and it's huge. I tell you, it could fit a hundred of her. I guess she's compensating because she's tiny, you see, like one would really expect. An itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny little pony with butterfly wings, all glittering and glowy, with a crown of gold and diamonds, and a gown of … yes, a gown of morning dew it seems. And she's grinning all over like a horrible little filly who's really satisfied with herself, like really self-satisfied. You won't believe how gleefully satisfied she looks with that grin splitting her head right in two. It's right out of a nightmare. Makes me feel cold to my very bones.
I shudder. Sorry, but I can't help it.
I guess I'll dub her the Grinner now instead, capitalized and all. She'll go in the book alright, if I get my hooves on her. Slam! Right on the front cover of it too! I may even give her the whole book; her very own book all to herself.
She has her horrible little eyes on Derpy. I think she may want to eat her or marry her or possibly both, but maybe not in that order. She definitely has it for Derpy, big time. “Ah,” says the Grinner with a voice so thick with faux compassion it's sickening to the very soul. “Derpy, Derpy Hooves! My little Derpy, at last I have you here before me!”
“What do you want?” I yell, because I can't keep my mouth shut.
The Grinner is still grinning at Derpy, paying no attention to me. “I want,” she says as if it had been Derpy's question. “I want to make you the new Queen of Fairyland, my dearest little Derpy.” She leans over with her head in her hooves and smiles sickly sweet little smiles at Derpy. “How does that sound, hmm?”
“That, um, doesn't sound too bad,” I blurt out again.
Derpy glowers at the flower queen. “That's because it's much worse,” she hisses. “When it doesn't sound very bad, that's when you know things are about to get really nasty. She only wants to make me queen because she plans to move out into the real world herself and trap us in here, now that I'm not out there watching the trots.”
“Aww, but Derpy, Derpy, you'll love it here,” the Grinner grins.
“No I won't,” Derpy says and glares at her. “And you can take your offer and stuff it.”
It's amazing how one can scowl and grin at the same time, but the Grinner pulls it off very, very convincingly. It is even more terrifying than just the grin. “Aww, Derpy Derp,” she says sweetly. “You don't know how much you hurt me with your words, but thankfully it is not your choice, my dear little Derpy. I am still Queen in this place,” she says and stands up on her giant throne of thorns. “And as Queen in the witness of my people, I say that you, Derpy, shall be my heir and take my place once I am gone from this world. So I decree, and so it shall be!”
A lot of giggling and humming is heard around the great throne. Derpy struggles against her bonds to no effect. “You'll never get away with it!” she yells. “I'll stop you. I will!”
“Aww, but isn't she the cutest little pony,” the Grinner coos. “I'm getting away with it, Derpy Derp. I'm getting away with it right now, and I'm leaving you behind.” She turns to address the masses of hummers and gigglers. “My beloved fairies, it is time! We march for Ponyville, and Equestria, our new home!” She turns to her prince. “Lead my people. Prepare the way for me!”
Without a word, Prince Charming takes wing and glides across the plaza and the gathered fairies. Lots of wild humming and giggling follows as the hordes turn around and march off in rows and columns like a great army. The Grinner turns and grins madly at us. “Adieu, mon Derpy! There's a knife to cut yourself free at the other end of the city. It's a little hidden, but I'm sure you'll find it eventually. Now I must go and join my fairies in our new land.”
And with that we watch her fly off. Soon the place falls utterly quiet, no giggles, no humming and no grinning. Not even the silent stare of the prince. Just us, bound and alone in the former city of the fairies.
“I, um, I guess that could have gone better,” I say.
* * *
I watch in fascinated confusion, so confused yet fascinated, as Derpy twists and turns, bends and flips, trying to bite herself free of her bonds. “Aren't you going to try to find that knife the queen mentioned?” I ask curiously.
“Nuh uh! It's probably a trap of some kind,” she says, trying to reach her wings with her mouth. “Besides, getting there would take us forever. Can you help me out here?”
I'm sure she doesn't want me to preen her wings. It's not the best of times for that. “I'm not sure I can bite through this stuff,” I say as I inch closer to her and try to turn around so I can get at her bound wings and legs. It's difficult work just moving around when you're bound on legs and wings. It's not easy at all.
“No no, I need you to pull out one of my feathers for me,” Derpy says, and I look at her strangely. Not what I expected, no sir. “Just do it, but be careful.”
I suppose she knows what she's doing, and it's not my feather. Do you know how bad it hurts to pull out a feather when you're not moulting? It smarts, let me tell you that. “Alright, if you're sure,” I say and manage to grab one with my teeth. “Ready?”
“Hurry up!”
I shrug and pull hard on the feather, pull it hard! To my surprise, it barely resists. Huh, I guess she is moulting then. Maybe she does need a good preening. “What—” I begin as I hold up the feather, and then I stop to stare at it. “Whoa! Are all your feathers like this?” The gray feather glints and gleams in the strange fairy light, like steel so thin it's almost translucent.
“Yeah,” I hear her say. “You don't stay in this place as long as me without coming out a little … different. The fairies like to do things to you if they can, and sometimes the place itself messes with you. It's like Bubbles and the eyes; most ponies can't see it, or they think there's just something slightly off about you. Now, hurry up and cut me free.”
I hold the razor-sharp feather carefully as I cut the threads of silk binding Derpy. The feather cuts right through it, but it's not easy moving around, and I don't want to hurt Derpy by accident. Soon, however, she is free, free as a bird. I wince a bit as she takes the feather from me and cuts me free as well. I guess the old view of her as a magnet for trouble dies hard, but with just a few cuts I am free too, and now I stretch my legs in relief. And no cuts at all, not one.
Derpy kicks over the tank of water, and she's already galloping across the plaza towards the edge of town as it shatters on the ground. Bubbles flaps her fins happily in the air of freedom and rushes off after Derpy. “Hey, wait up,” I call as I try to hurry after them. I really need to speak to Cloudchaser about joining her yoga training once this is over. I bet it's great for snaking out of ropes and stuff, and maybe I'll ask Rainbow Dash for some endurance training too while I'm at it.
“There's no time,” Derpy calls up ahead. “We need to get out before she manages to guard all the trots, or we could be stuck in here forever!”
“I don't like forever. It's a very long time,” I cry. “I miss my friends already.”
“Then hurry up,” Derpy repeats, and what a good point she makes. Good indeed.
“Am … Am I going to get steel feathers t-too?” I huff and puff as I catch up with her.
“Probably not.” I can't decide if that answer makes me relieved or disappointed. The feather was kinda pretty, like diamond almost. Diamonds are pretty, but I've never had one as a friend. “You haven't been here that long yet,” she adds.
“Oh, okay,” I mutter. “What about a cool pet like Bubbles? Will I get that?”
“No.”
“Aww, but it's kinda neat,” I say and pout. “Maybe a little monkey? It could sit on my back and throw peanuts at everypony.”
“They'd just think it's you,” Derpy says, and I suppose that's a good point, but still … invisible shoulder monkey, who could say no to that? “Besides, Bubbles is special.”
“How?”
Derpy's ears droop, and she lowers her head as she runs. “She's my little sister.”
I blink and almost stop, but I quickly catch back up. “Your sister? But … she's a fish. A flying invisible fish that glows.”
“She wasn't as lucky as me,” Derpy says sadly.
“I'm very sorry, Derpy.” I get the feeling she doesn't want to talk about it, so I leave it be, but it certainly puts things in perspective.
I pick up pace just a little more. I still have no clue where we're going, but I can certainly do worse than to follow Derpy. We're running through a gorge now, with steep cliffs on both sides and treacherous rocks underhoof. I hope, I hope I don't stumble and hit my nose.
“I think we're getting close,” Derpy says in a low voice and slows down to a trot as a mist rolls through the gorge. “Oh,” she mutters. “You better hold my tail so we don't get separated. Don't let go, and be careful where you step.”
I know, I know, don't stumble or get lost or run in the wrong direction, 'cause that's when the tigers get you. I obediently grab her tail in my mouth, grab it good as we feel our way through the misty gorge, one step at a time. It is almost impossible to see anything, except for an outline, and that outline there could be almost anything if you use your imagination. Up ahead I can just about make out the shadow of what looks like a bridge crossing the gorge. Derpy stops and turns her head slightly, holding up a hoof to her lips as a sign before looking back at the bridge.
I narrow my eyes, trying to make out anything more than just a bridge. Derpy lifts her hoof again and points towards the middle of the bridge and a little to the right, middle and right. I lower my head and sight along her outstretched hoof, trying to see what she's pointing at. A few seconds pass before I see it: a hunched figure crouching on the bridge behind the railing. “What is it?” I whisper.
“A troll,” Derpy whispers back. Whisper whisper, so secretive. “The queen got here first,” she curses under her breath. “Now we can't get past.”
“What about another way? Didn't you say there are others? Every road goes two ways.”
“Yeah, but before we get there she'll have them all guarded, if she hasn't already,” Derpy says and sits down. Bubbles floats sadly next to her, bobbing up and down in the air. “If we're really lucky, maybe a new one will open up, and maybe we'll notice before she does, but by then all of Equestria will be in chaos.”
“What about other ponies? Won't the princesses know what to do?” I ask hopefully, wishing to give the sad pegasus some hope. She looks so blue, and that's not a good color for a gray pegasus.
“Maybe,” Derpy says, watching the hunched figure on the bridge. “But there aren't many of us who guard the trots. I'm one of the few in Ponyville who can even see them, and if all the fairies have escaped, that's a lot more than we've dealt with before. There's probably not enough ponies who can get them back in here. We have to find a way out before it's too late so we can help them.”
I sit down next to her, sit down and stare at the bridge. It's not the most inspiring sight, but if I try a bit I can make it look like a throne. “Um, this may be stupid, but … you know, if you're technically the queen now, can't you just tell that troll to move aside and let us through?”
Derpy is silent for a while. I watch her sit there so thoughtfully, then a little smile spreads across her lips. “Yes, that's so stupid, you know, so stupid it's almost sure to work!” she says and jumps up with a grin. Now she's the Grinner. How fitting, if she's also the queen! I join her as she trots towards the bridge, head held high and haughty. Like a queen.
“Hold! Who goes there?” the troll roars and rises up above us, leaning over the edge of the bridge to gaze down at us from on high. Once again the books totally lied. This is not how a troll ought to behave, nor does it look at all stupid and easily fooled. Curses and damnations!
“That's not fair! You're supposed to say 'Fee Fi Fo Fum!' and look dumb!” I wail up at it. “And you're supposed to hide below the bridge, not … not the other way around!”
“Oh yeah?” the troll growls and clenches its claws around the edge of the bridge. “Who says?”
“Your new Queen says so!” Derpy yells back up at the creature. “Be a good troll, and let us through!”
The troll glares at Derpy, and then it grins back at her. “No. Queen said no pony is allowed through. No pony, pony. Heh, dumb pony, did you really think I'd just let you through? Stupid pony with stupid little pony brain! Aww, you mad now, little pony?”
“He's not buying it,” Derpy whispers, glancing my way. I guess that's obvious. Indeed, clear as ice. Well, as long as it's not dirty or broken ice, which is not very clear at all. “When I say run, you run! And you keep running no matter what!” I nod and watch her step forward, raising her voice at the troll. “Your queen said that I am queen now, did she not? So you better obey me, or do you want to disobey her order as well as mine? Yeah, that's right, so you better stick your tail between your legs and run! before I tell her.”
And I run as fast as I can, dashing like mad under the bridge without looking back. I hear a roar and a loud explosion and see a great flash of light, but I keep running, running like mad! Behind me a ton of stone comes crashing down, but still I run, and I really, really hope Derpy is running too.
* * *
“I'm out!” I yell happily and spin around, gazing down the small stream of water under the little bridge near Fluttershy's house. My smile fades a little as I look around. “Derpy? Derpy!” I cry as I run around in a circle. Round and around. “Oh, please don't be trapped in there with that horrid old troll!”
But she doesn't magically appear out of the dust and debris in the nick of time, so once again the books have lied to me! I sit down in the cold water and weep.
No! I have to save Ponyville. That's what Derpy would have wanted! And so it is what I shall do!
With renewed determination, I pull myself up and crawl out from under the bridge. “Fee Fi Fo Fum! I'm gonna grab them all and put them in their proper place: between the pages of a book!” Because that's what Flitter does. Flitter finds them! Flitter fetches them; fetches every nasty little fairy, fly or flitterin' critter in the net!
I stomp down the road towards Ponyville, pondering all the while how I'm going to deal with all the fairies on my own. Derpy said there aren't many ponies like her in Ponyville. Not many, she said, not none at all, and there can only be one pony in all of Ponyville who is certain to be one of those few!
“Onwards, to Sugarcube Corner!” I laugh and set into a gallop.
* * *
I skid to a near-halt and quickly jump behind a wall as a swarm of rowdy gigglers come storming through the street, carrying a pair of wailing ponies. I peek around the corner as they disappear down another street. The whole place is overflown, absolutely overflown with fairies gone wild and ponies running for their lives. It's Discord all over, only without Discord … and cotton candy, but that could happen still.
I glance up at the sky where swarms of hummers are harassing a group of unfortunate weather ponies. No use flying. As Derpy said, up there everything with eyes can see you, and I don't want to be seen, no sir! But I have to get to Sugarcube Corner somehow.
I slip down one of the smaller alleys and sneak along the walls like a thief in the night. Sneak, sneak, sneak past all the little fairies. I think I just might make it … And with that thought lingering in my head, I stop and peek around a corner. There's the corner of Sugarcube Corner, just down that road … on the corner. It's a bit far, but … Damn!
He's sitting on a roof just down the street. It's Prince Charming, sitting right there on the rooftop like he was expecting me, but how could he know? I quickly hide behind a wall before he catches sight of me as well. Horse feathers! There's no way he won't see me if I go this way, but all the other roads are full of fairies too.
Maybe if I run really fast, I can—
“Psst!”
I look around and come nose to very close nose with a minty green unicorn poking her head out of the window behind me. I back away a little. You can't look at that face this close up and not feel just a tiny bit uncomfortable. “Oh, hey, um …”
“Lyra,” the unicorn says helpfully and gestures a hoof at the open window. “Quick, in here.”
“But I need to get—”
“To Sugarcube Corner, yes,” Lyra says without letting her smile fade. I've seen her around, playing her lyre down in the park for coins. She always looks so happy, but I never realized just how happy she really looks when you look closely, or maybe it's something more. It's not always because she's smiling. It's like she's happy even without smiling.
“How did you—”
“Yes yes, are you going to stand out there or get your flank inside alright?”
I can't argue with that kind of tone, so I hurry inside, scrambling a bit to get my behind over the window sill. It's not as big as Cloudchaser says it is—my behind, that is. It really isn't, and I'm not blushing, for your information. Lyra quickly shuts the window behind me, nearly clipping my tail as I look around the small candy maker's workshop.
Lyra is already pulling me towards the stairs down into the basement. “Quick, down here.”
I obediently follow. The basement is full of crates and sacks of sugar and spices, the kinds of things you would expect in a candy maker's home. I wonder where the candy maker is, because I don't think Lyra makes candy. Nope, no candy maker is she, that's what her cutie mark is telling me. She's like me, a connoisseur and consumer, not a confectioner.
Lyra pushes a crate aside to reveal a small door. “You're new aren't you? Well, this here leads to Sugarcube Corner. We supply the place with candy, and it serves as a great way to get around in cases just like this,” the grinning unicorn explains. “Now off you go! No time for long expositions. I need to keep my post here.”
And in I go, shoved through the door into a long, narrow tunnel with candles at intervals providing a dim light. Before I can turn around, the door is shut, and I hear the crate shoved back in place. Only one way forward, then. I turn around and hurry down the secret tunnel.
I soon reach another door and step out into another basement full of bags and crates, containing flour, sugar and much else besides. I shouldn't be surprised, and thankfully I'm not. I stop to gain my bearings and hear hushed voices from above. I follow the voices up a flight of stairs into the kitchen of the Sugarcube Corner.
“Don't you worry your pretty little head; we'll save all your little critter friends too. You, me, Lyra, and Batsy right here, right? And Derpy, when she gets here. We'll kick some fairy tail together! And if any of them nasty fay get uppity about it, you just give them a really good stare and tell them to go right back home where they belong, right? You just herd them right back like you do your little critters, and then we'll have a great big no-fairies-invited party to celebrate! And all your animal friends will be there too, safe and sound!”
There's Fluttershy, looking frightened out of her hide—as pretty much usual—and hugging a little bat in her hooves. That must be Batsy the bat, a fitting name indeed. And there's Pinkie Pie. She's the one pep-talking. At least, I could swear that I am looking at Pinkie Pie, except that I haven't even been drinking, but my eyes insist that there are two ponies there. They share both head and tail, but there are clearly, yes there are definitely eight legs right there, quite enough for two whole ponies. At least Fluttershy and her bat look pretty normal. What a relief.
I cough politely to get their attention and immediately receive more than I asked for from the resident millipede party pony. She spins around—watching her flawlessly coordinate all those legs is mesmerizing—and then she isn't there, because now she's right next to me with a hoof around my shoulders.
“Ooh, you're new, aren'tcha?”
“Actually we—”
She giggles. “Of course I know you, Flitter,” Pinkie continues without pause, grinning at me. “I know everypony, and I mean everypony in Ponyville! I meant you're new to the whole fairy business, silly,” she chuckles. “You must have met Lyra too, and me and Derpy, we're really the only ponies around here who are sane.”
Before all this I would never have considered Pinkie sane, not really, but now I'm not so sure. Perhaps she's the sanest one of all. Could such a thing really be? Who can tell in this crazy old world? “And what about Fluttershy?” I ask, and I do wonder as I look at the shivering pegasus. Poor dear, she's hugging that bat pretty tight.
Pinkie leans closer and whispers to me, “We're not really sure, you know? That stare of hers is wicked mean, and sometimes she sees things, but I don't think she wants to see it so she doesn't most of the time. If you get what I'm saying.”
“Oh,” I say, wondering if I actually did get that. I probably didn't.
“Anyway, we're just waiting for Derpy to rock this party,” Pinkie continues unabashed. “You wouldn't happen to have seen her out there, would you?”
“Actually,” I say feebly and look down. “Actually, I think she got trapped in … in fairyland. She's the new queen there, or something. There was this troll, and she told me to run, and then there was an explosion, and the bridge collapsed behind me, and then I was back at Fluttershy's cottage … and Derpy wasn't with me.”
There's a long silence, something you rarely get around Pinkie. Then Fluttershy squeaks with a little delayed horror. “M-my cottage?”
I nod. Nod nod. Shake that head, Flitter, up and down, maybe it'll start making sense again. “There was a … a trot, she called it, in the chicken coop.”
Fluttershy squeals louder and hides her head under a wing, muttering about her poor, poor animal friends. Pinkie lights up in an expression of sudden comprehension. “Oh! That must be a new one,” she says. “Poor Derpy, but she'll find a way. She always does. We could have used her and Bubbles, though.”
“So what are we going to do?” I ask, voicing the one question most on my mind.
Pinkie shrugs, all four shoulders. “I don't actually know,” she says way more cheerfully than such an admission should warrant. “We've never had a mass escape like this before, so it's all new to me too. It's pretty exciting, if you think about it.”
I try not to. “What about other ponies?” I try instead, hoping for something to help.
“Oh, the ones that haven't been taken by the fairies already are hiding all over town. It's sort of hard to get to them. I tried to get to the library, but it was completely surrounded. I think Twilight had some kind of magic bubble up, so she's probably fine for now.” Pinkie ticks off various ponies on her hooves. It helps that she has more of them than she should. I could see that being useful. “Sweet Apple Acres is even further away, can't reach that, and Fluttershy says she saw them pull off Rainbow Dash.”
“So it's just us?” I say feebly.
“Looks like it,” Pinkie says happily. “Don't know what they could do anyway; they can't really see the fairies.” She seems to deflate a little, her spirits sagging. “Um, you've got some great amazing idea, haven't you?”
I sit down and stare at one of the windows hastily covered by tables and bags of flour. “Well, when I catch butterflies, I use a small net so that I don't touch their delicate wings. Maybe we could use a … a really big net?” I say, knowing it's a stupid idea, but it's all I've got.
Pinkie taps her lips ponderously, then she leaps up and grabs me excitedly. “Flitter, you just made me brilliant!”
I blink and feel suddenly very frightened. “I did?” I don't know if I want to know what that means. Pinkie being brilliant? Sounds like a sign of the apocalypse. Oh my.
“Yes!” She swings around, dropping me back on the floor, and gallops across the room to the kitchen. “You two find all the sugar—and I mean all of it—while I get Lyra!”
I look at Fluttershy for help then shrug and get up to search the bakery for sugar. If Pinkie has a plan, perhaps it's best not to ask. I can deal with sugar, though. Sugar is easy, especially in a bakery stuffed full of it.
* * *
Pinkie claps her hooves together excitedly and turns to look at us. If I knew fear before, I'm starting to get a grasp of terror now. “Everypony clear on the plan?”
We're standing in the small tower of Sugarcube Corner. We're covered, absolutely covered from nose to tail in sugar and flour and other less defined foodstuffs. Mixed with sweat it makes us kinda like four ponies of sugary dough and spices. Mmm … next up is the baking and fiery doom. That's the end of every Pinkie idea. Pinkidea?
Lyra, always looking so very optimistic, raises a hoof before volunteering an idea. “It needs a name.”
I stare at the monstrosity before us. The great machine and harbinger of doom. Our doom; it can be no other way. “How about the Fairy Flyfetcher Four Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Four?”
“Why not Five Thousand Five Hundred and Fifty Five?” Pinkie asks, giving the thing a look.
“Because there are four of us,” I say. Or maybe Pinkie does count for two, but I leave that thought aside. Don't go down that road, it leads to nothing good.
Oh, and there's Batsy, of course, but … okay, fine, I just like four better. Let's not tell Pinkie.
“Oh yeah!” Pinkie grins and jumps into the seat where she'll be sitting. “Alright, my little ponies! Take up your positions! Flitter, open the sky hatch! Fluttershy, get that wheel spinning! Lyra, play our battle hymn! Now … let's fetch some freakin' fairies!!!1!”
She even pronounced the one somehow. I'm impressed. Soon just pressed.
* * *
Dun Dun Dun Duun Dun
Dun Dun Dun Duun Dun
Dun Dun Dun Duun Dun
Dun Dun Dun Dun Duuuuun
Dun Dun Dun Dun Duuun
Dun Dun Dun Dun Duuun
Dun Dun Dun Dun Duuun Duuun
Dun Dun Dun Duuuuun!
In a great plume of flour and sugar dust the tower of Sugarcube Corner opens wide, and the great beast emerges on roaring wings of steel! Rising above the town, it waves its trunk and unfolds its giant stomach, ready to devour in untold measures! In its burning heart, Pinkie stomps furiously at the pedals, while behind it Fluttershy and I whirl around and around like twin spinning vortices of doom. And holding its grand fairy-sucking trunk, while playing the one-pony orchestra of epic hymns, is Lyra.
“Dun Dun Dun Dun Duuuuun Duun!” We all let ourselves get caught in the beautiful moment and croon along to our heart's content. All except Fluttershy, but I'm sure her heart is singing along too. It just can't be heard over the fearful whimpering coming from her mouth.
Every eye for miles must surely have turned towards us in wonder and awe as we soar majestically through the skies, like the great elephant of the heavenly spheres! A hissing, torrential swarm of fairies rise up from the village, a pestilential hiss and hum of mad giggling. The floodgates have been thrown wide!
Here they come!
“Spin faster!” I scream at Fluttershy over the noise. “You can do it!”
Lyra swings the trunk around in a wide arc, whirling it around the Fairy Flyfetcher as the swarm races toward us. The first fairies are sucked into its cotton candy-filled belly of sticky doom while more still swarm in from the outlying farms and fields. Lyra sweeps the trunk around again, sucking in large swathes of fairies. Yelling and furious humming from the swarm accompanies their sugary demise.
The swarm closes in faster than Lyra can suck them all up. I kick at a group of hummers and gigglers trying to get in my way and bite at another holding on to Fluttershy's hooves.
“Up and rise! Rise my pretty!” Pinkie screams as she stomps like a mad pony in the grip of insanity, all eight legs pumping at full power, sending the Flyfetcher spiraling like crazy into the clouds. Lyra yells something while trying to keep her balance up front as she directs the trunk downwards at the pursuing storm of fairies.
“There are too many!” I cry. Fluttershy continues, blind to anything but the task of circling around and around to power the sucking trunk, while Batsy her batty friend clings madly to her mane.
“Hold on to your hooves!” Pinkie yells. I don't know how we couldn't. It's everything else we need to worry about losing.
“This can't be good,” I gasp, getting a sinking feeling just before Pinkie sends the Flyfetcher into a crazy downwards spiral right into the hellish dark heart of the fairy cloud. Hundreds, no thousands of fairies scream in their final agony as they are sucked through the trunk into the sugar-coated belly of the madly rotating beast.
I think I'm going to throw up … maybe I'll take out a few fairies with the contents of my stomach.
And then we're back out of the cloud again, with a few fairies holding on to the Flyfetcher and trying to gnaw at the sack of their sugar-trapped friends. Pinkie narrowly misses the ground and pulls us back up, racing close above the trees of Sweet Apple Acres with the swarm of fairies close behind us.
Lyra recovers and stumbles back on her hooves just in time to swipe up another bunch of attacking fairies. She swings the trunk around to catch the ones hanging on to the belly of the beast. “We can't go on much longer!” she calls. “It's almost full already!”
Pinkie glances down at the bulging belly of kicking, screaming fairies, then back at the pursuing cloud. “No problemo! Just a little more …” she calls, while the swarm closes in on us. “Just a little more … Flitter and Flutter?”
“Yeah?” I call, trying to catch my frantic breath. I am practically sweating sugary dough now. It's disgusting beyond all reason. From the looks of it, Fluttershy is faring no fairer.
“Reverse the flow … Now!”
In a huge flutter of feathers and chaos, Fluttershy and I pull around and race in the opposite direction around the wheel. The beast sputters and wails as streams of cotton candy and tangled fairies fly out the trunk and through the panicking hordes of pursuers. Great swathes of apple orchard are covered in a sugary blanket and hopelessly trapped fairies.
“Yes! Take that you little flower freaks!” Lyra yells and looks happier than any pony has any right to look as she swings the great sugar-spewing trunk like a real pro. That's it, swing that trunk! Swing it like you mean it! And all the little fairies flee, flee in every direction before her pink wrath.
“Wooohooo!” Pinkie joins in and jumps up and down in her saddle, rocking the great machine. We all laugh and cheer. Well, except for Fluttershy, but I think she's cheering deep down inside too. “Time to wrap up these fairies and send 'em home to mama! It's party time!”
* * *
If by party time she meant scooping up icky sticky fairies among the apple trees for more than an hour in the early darkness of twilight, then this was indeed the greatest party ever. I suppose she meant after that, which is now, but she probably didn't mean trotting down the road back to Ponyville with a giant ball of sugar and fairies in tow either. And I can't shake off the feeling that we forgot something. Ever get that feeling?
“Wait, what about the queen?” I say, and that's what we forgot.
Pinkie mulls it over for a second, then she says, “Oh yeah …”
We walk for a while in ponderous silence, and just then Lyra whispers behind me, “You won't find her.”
We all look at Lyra, and she looks at us. “What?” we all say, and Lyra too.
“She's a spy,” I hear Fluttershy whisper. I look at the poor dear, and she looks at me.
“I didn't …”
“What?”
“Spyra!”
“Who?”
“I knew it!”
“Don't trust them. They're both mad!”
“But—”
“What did you call me?!”
“I didn't say anything!”
“I heard you!”
“We all heard you!”
“I didn't—”
“Spy!”
“You can't trust anypony!”
“They are not your friends!”
“Stop it!”
“You stop it!”
“Sssshhhhh!”
We all stop and look at Fluttershy. Something about her eyes; you can't stop looking. She's holding her hoof to her mouth, and her lips are sealed tight, but still I hear her voice for just a second. “Don't trust—” and then it falls silent, and now we're all quiet.
Well, that was odd.
Fluttershy walks past us and looks up at a tree. Look at her look so fierce. I follow her gaze, and then I see him too. Why that little … High up in that tree, like a leaf of white in the breeze, it's Prince Charming. Oh, but doesn't he look smug, that mean little bug!
There's a rustle of grass around us. Lyra prods my shoulder, and I look around, Pinkie too. Oh horse feathers! The fields are moving, and it's not the wind, no not the wind that moves it. There they are, the tigers … tiger moths, the whole royal retinue surrounding us. We were too distracted by arguing, and now they have us surrounded.
“Why aren't they attacking?” Lyra whispers.
I look around, and she's right, right as rain. They just hang there among the grass of the fields, watching, watching us with little insect eyes. They are waiting for us to move or run. They want a hunt.
“What's Fluttershy doing?”
We all look at Fluttershy. She's sitting on the road, looking up at Prince Charming with a hoof to her lips. Wow, she's looking really focused. Something is going on between them, right between their fixed stares. Neither says a word, but words are being spoken. They're saying something, something I think must sound something like, “I bet you can't beat me!”
“Whatcha doin', Fluttershy?” Pinkie dances around our friend, but Fluttershy says nothing.
“A staring contest?” Lyra volunteers.
Ah, I see. I grab Pinkie and pull her back away from Fluttershy. “It's a contest,” I whisper. “A contest of who can be quiet the longest,” I explain. Oh the poor dear, there's no way she can win this. That mean little insect could sit there all day and night and never speak a word, never speak a word in a hundred years.
Pinkie sits down and stares at the yellow pegasus where she sits all still and silent with a hoof to her lips. Pinkie's shoulders slump and her eyes widen. “Oh no! This is worse than watching that wall of paint dry. Poor Fluttershy, I … I can't watch!” She turns her head away, and I pat her on the back.
Wow, look at her go. Go Fluttershy, go! Show that bug who's boss.
I must admit, after about five minutes it has sort of lost the tension. I don't think this could ever work as an Equestria Games discipline. This could take all night.
Lyra scrapes the ground and gives me a nudge. I look down at the grid and draw a crude circle in the corner with my hoof. Lyra counters with a cross, and then the battle is on! Grid after gritty grid! Pinkie joins in, and then we have circles, crosses and hooves. This is intense! I think I'm sweating!
Meanwhile the greatest battle of Shhhh! ever fought rages on in utter silence next to us.
I scratch my hundredth circle on the dusty road and sneak a glance at Fluttershy. She's still sitting there looking ever so determined, the poor dear. I watch her as Lyra ponders her next move. It involves a surprising amount of tactical considerations. Total concentration must be had.
Then Fluttershy's wing moves a little, just an eensy-teensy bit, and her stare seems to change from determined to challenging. What is she doing?
Fluttershy stares at the prince. Their eyes are locked and lips sealed tighter than the gates of Tartarus. Slowly her wing moves a little more. We all stop playing and lean forward to watch. What is she doing?
The wing unfolds, and Fluttershy gives the prince a wicked look. There are unspoken words on those sealed lips, and they're saying something like this, something like, “Say hello to Batsy, you bug-ugly little meanie!” Well, maybe not in so many words exactly. This is Fluttershy, after all.
The bat stretches its wings, turns its ears around and opens its mouth. You can't really hear it unless you're a bat or a moth, but oh can you feel it as all the little tigers scream and flap their wings to get away. Up in the tree our charming prince is flittering about frantically and being very loud for a moth in a Shhh! contest. The bat drops from Fluttershy's wing and glides into pursuit.
The hunt … is on!
Fluttershy stands up, and her silence says, “I win.” And that says it all.
* * *
“That was great, Fluttershy! You and Batsy totally showed those tigers and their little Prince Charming who's boss around here,” I say and give the pegasus a little hoof bump on the shoulder. She's been so great, so great. “Wasn't it great?”
She's staring at her hooves and looking shy, as the good old Fluttershy we all know.
“Aww, come here.” I stop and wrap my hooves around her, pulling her into a hug. “Does that make you feel better?”
“A-a little,” I hear her whisper into my mane, and I think she smiles.
I smile too and let go of her. “Good! You're a fierce pony, Shy. Don't let a bunch of fairies push you around, m'kay?”
“O-okay,” she says while once more gazing at her hooves. Poor thing.
Up ahead, Pinkie and Lyra are rolling the giant ball of fairy-filled cotton candy through the streets of Ponyville, headed towards the bridge out of town and one of the trots so we can be rid of them and get back to our lives. I sigh a breath of relief as I pick up pace to catch up.
“What about Derpy?” I ask as I come up next to Pinkie. “Can't we help her somehow?”
“Huh, I guess we should,” the pink pony says and scratches her head with two hooves, getting lots of sticky sugar stuck in it. Not that it makes much of a difference; it's all one big pink mess anyway. “Fairies first, then wayward pegasi!” she chirps. “Besides, if I know Derpy at all, she'll find a way on her own, easy peasy one two threesy. Nothing keeps that pony in or out of anywhere, I tell you. She gets into the strangest of places and right out again where and when you least expect her. You just can't stop Derpy.” Coming from Pinkie, that says a lot.
“I hope so,” I say and help push the giant ball of sugar. It's sticky work, and some of the fairies like to bite. It sure kills your appetite—I think I'll pass on the pizza after all—but I could really use a very long bubble bath after this. Ha! There won't be any hot water in Ponyville for days after this, 'cause it'll all be mine. Mine! Ha ha ha ha hah!
“Not so fast, ponies!”
Sweet Celestia, I know that voice. I groan. Of course we forgot all about her … again.
Pinkie cheerfully continues on, only a bit slower now. “Okie dokie Lokie!”
At least I'm not the only one groaning. The fairy is too. “That means you should stop!”
“It does?” Pinkie says, innocently baffled. “You should just say stop, if that's what you mean.”
Another groan. “Fine, stop! Not one step further, ponies!”
We all stop and stare at the giant ball of pink sugar and angry moaning fairies.
Now she's sounding angry too, but it's making me smile. I kinda want to laugh again. “You can move to look around the ball, you stupid ponies! Do I have to tell you everything?”
“Ooooh,” Pinkie says and does so. We all follow, except for Fluttershy who hides behind the safety of the Pink Ball of Blissful Ignorance +5. “Oh,” Pinkie adds, not so happily. “It's you.”
“Yes! It is I, your Queen!” The Fairy Queen gloats, grinning widely. “And I've got all your friends!” We look up as she gestures.
Up up up, and I gasp. “Cloudchaser!” There are several other ponies, all tied up in webs and gagged. There's a really angry cocoon with a rainbow tail sticking out of it, and some less angry but still pretty angry ones that I think are our other friends.
There's a movement in the sky, and all our gazes drift up to watch a big, black and bloated thing squeeze itself out of empty air. There's a trot up there, a tight little one in the clouds, and right there's the spider at last; the big bad spider silently dropping down next to our trapped friends! It's hairy too. It's a spider alright.
“Yes!” the fairy queen cackles madly. “One move, ponies, and your friends are spider food!”
“You monster!” Lyra cries.
“We're not gonna let you win!” Pinkie yells. “We'll get you!”
“Not if you want to still have friends, you won't!” The evil little fairy cackles even more madly. You know it's bad when they start to cackle, you know. “So here's what I'm gonna do: I'm gonna count to ten, and if I don't see you about freeing my fairy folk from that ball of yours, I'm letting my spider friend have a buffet of your friends! One!”
We all look at each other, looking to see if anypony has any sudden, last minute plans.
“Two!” the fairy grins, grins, grins. “Three-Four-Five!”
“Hey!”
“I didn't say how fast I'd count,” she gloats. “Six! Better hurry; that spider is hungry. Seven!”
“Four!” Pinkie cries.
“Nuh uh, just for that it's nine now!” The fairy wags her hoof, while I stare up at the sky. “It's feasting time, little ponies. Last chance, so let my fairies go or say goodbye to your friends!”
Aaaaaaaa …
“No,” I say and look back down, giving her a defiant glare.
Aaaaaaaaaaaa …
“No?” The fairy fumes. “I'll say it! I'll say it, and the spider will eat your friends!”
“No,” I repeat. The others are staring at me. “And that's our final answer, you ugly little bug! You're not even pretty enough for my book, and it has some really ugly little bugs in it!”
Aaaaaaaaaa …
The fairy queen is fuming and foaming rabidly. Oh yes, she's foaming alright. “You … you! Te—”
There's a cry, a crash and the fairy queen spins around just in time to see the shadow of the giant spider as it falls off its web and smashes her, creating a large crater in the middle of the street. I wince and wonder how many pages she can fill now, if I scrape her all up.
Derpy rolls across the ground and comes to a stop at our hooves. She blinks and looks up at us as Bubbles comes floating down from the narrow trot above and hovers over the spider. “Oh hi … Um, I didn't interrupt anything, did I?”
“Derpy!” I pull her up and hug her tightly. The others soon join in, and we have ourselves a great big hugging party! “You wonderful pony! How did you get out?”
“Oh, um, heh, I kinda fell, and ow! I think I landed on my butt,” she says and rubs her flank. “I-I didn't break anything, did I?” She glances guiltily around at the ravaged city, the spider, the ball of sugary fairies and the struggling cocoons of ponies. “Oh. Um, oops?”
* * *
And so ends our twisted fable. The fairytale is over, but we don't know if everypony lived happily ever after because everypony still lives, and that's much much better. The fairies were returned to their own world, and everypony returned to whatever it is they do when Equestria isn't on the brink of destruction. Ponyville was restored—I think the mayor has several spare Ponyvilles stashed all over the place, in case of emergencies just like this—and then no pony seemed to talk about it any more, which is just as well.
Pinkie went back to whatever it is Pinkie does. Lyra still plays her tunes in the park for a bit of coin, and Fluttershy … she had her chicken coop boarded up and a new one constructed elsewhere. I think she's happier that way, poor beast. Batsy now lives in the old chicken coop where it's nice and dark, and no tiger comes that way any longer, at least.
Derpy still sits on her bridge, trying to watch sunrise and sunset dance together in the afternoon. Sometimes I join her, and we watch it together while Bubbles floats on the wind above.
As for me, I have a new book now. It's a little empty, but Flitter knows how to fill it. Fill it with fairies! All the little fairies pressed nice and neat between the gilded pages!
The End!
