Last

by Alan Smithee

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Princess Celestia, Human, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character
Length: 56367

The rise of ponies, the future of Equestria and the last human.

In a world of peace, magic and harmony, a flawed human presence may not seem necessary. When Simon returns from outer space to find his world inhabited by creatures with an almost innate perfection, he certainly suspects this to be true. As Simon discovers and documents the fate of his species, and learns how Equestria was built on the ruins of man, he fears that he will prove himself irrelevant. But things are not always what they seem, and the life of the last human may still have meaning.

New cover art by jjames10. Much thanks to him for his excellent work. Original cover art here.

Originally intended to be one scene set in one room in which the question, "Why would a human need to be in Equestria?" was answered, my theory to address the question has expanded to the scale of a small epic. I hope it works.

A lot of the concepts and facts introduced here are so vast and academic, they really can't be expressed in dialogue. Instead a number of scenes are in "written document" format to give the reader a thorough information-dump. This is a world-building fic.

I also omit a lot of the Slice-of-life, getting-to-know-you scenes you see a lot in HiE because the focus is on concepts rather than actions.

I wish to achieve the following with this fanfiction:
Create a character whose strengths and weaknesses are clear, or become clear as the story progresses.
Give the human character a compelling reason to be in Equestria based on an interpretation of the themes of the show.
Present a theory about the character of Twilight Sparkle and her intended role in the future of Equestria
Accurately portray existing characters from the show

Sources of Inspiration (This will be very long, some sources will be missed):
"The Stars Will Aid in Her Escape (Cosmic Love)" - PMV by mmmandarinorange
"Rorschach in Equestria" by Ex-Nihilos
"The Planet of the Apes" (1968)
"Slaughterhouse-Five" by Kurt Vonnegut
"World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War" by Max Brooks (Stylistic influence)
"The Stand" by Stephen King
"Pet Sematary" by Stephen King
"Moon" (2009)
"The Old Man and the Sea" by Ernest Hemingway (Stylistic Influence)
"The Wizard of Oz" (1939)
"King and Lionheart", song and music video by Of Monsters and Men
For some inexplicable reason, this song.
My Little Pony : Friendship is Magic, created by Lauren Faust, property of Hasbro, Inc.

Sources that DID NOT inspire this work:
Arrow 18 Mission Logs: Lone Ranger by Admiraltigerclaw

Feel free to take this premise and make it better.

I feel that this story is either going to be my "Citizen Kane" or my "Plan 9 from Outer Space". Either way it's my masterpiece.

This story is dedicated to Abby, my dog of 14 years who passed away on February 26, 2013

Published 2013-01-25 18:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-03 02:47:13 UTC

Friendship and Harmony

Dear Princess Celestia,

I am happy to report that the dragon has departed our fair country, and that it was my good friend Fluttershy who convinced him to go. This adventure has taught me to never lose faith in your friends. They can be an amazing source of strength, and can help you overcome even your greatest fears.

Always your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.

Spike the dragon happily transcribed Twilight's letter. The dragon and the pony were in their bedroom atop the library in Ponyville, and Twilight was recounting the events of her latest adventure.

"Twilight! You gotta come see this!" Applejack called from outside.

Twilight walked to her front balcony, leaving Spike alone with the letter, sitting on the stairs in the upper room of the library. The smell of Fluttershy’s animals hung in the air.

Spike read the letter over. "An amazing source of strength," Spike echoed. Twilight didn't need strength, he thought to himself. Her magic was more powerful than anything. He'd even gotten her to admit she was the best unicorn in Ponyville. Laughter erupted from outside. That was usually his cue to go and join in on whatever fun his pony friends were having, but he was stuck in his musings. She had rid Ponyville of an Ursa Minor all on her own, knew everything any of her friends knew and more, and she was Princess Celestia's one and only student for Pete's sake! Surely the most powerful pony in all of Equestria had taught her enough to meet any challenge that could come her way. Spike was pulled out of his musings as Twilight returned from the balcony, still chuckling.

"Spike, you should have seen it! Pinkie Pie just pulled the funniest prank on Rainbow Dash. She practically scared Dash out of her skin!"

Spike regretted missing it. The letter in his claws drooped, reflecting his mood.

"What's the matter? Are you going to send that letter or just keep reading it?"

"Oh. Right." Spike rolled up the scroll and sent it on its way in a burst of yellow-green fire. Twilight was heading downstairs. "Hey, Twilight..."

"Hm?" She stopped.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything." Twilight turned around to face Spike.

"When you said friends were an amazing source of strength...you didn't mean for you, right?"

Twilight cocked her head. "Of course I did. Everypony ought to have friends! Why? What are you thinking?"

"Well, I just don't think a unicorn as talented as you would need to worry about being weak. I mean, we both know you could have gotten rid of that dragon yourself."

Twilight thought about it. She supposed it was possible that she could have figured out a way to trick or scare or carry the dragon out of its cave and away from Ponyville. Such a task would have required study and planning, but it could have been done. “I guess, Spike.” Maybe Spike was on to something there. "But..." she started.

"But nothing!" Spike declared, proud of how unquestionably right he was. Twilight glared at him. Spike's smile disappeared when he realized he'd forgotten his place.

"But the thing is, Fluttershy was the perfect pony for the job. She was kind but firm, and the dragon learned not to sleep where his snoring threatened living things with smoke."

Spike tilted an eyebrow, he still didn't get it.

"There is one less inconsiderate dragon in the world, Spike, because of Fluttershy. I could have scared that dragon out of his cave, but I couldn't teach him anything like that. It's not my special talent"

Spike nodded in half-understanding. "But what about Applejack, or Rainbow Dash or Pinkie Pie? What did they do?" Spike was careful not to mention Rarity.

Twilight thought some more. "Well, Applejack carried Fluttershy all the way around the mountain when she got scared. Applejack's physical strength made that possible. Her tenacity and good judgment set a good example for all of us..." Twilight shivered, "...And she saved my life."

Spike's jaw dropped.

"I'll tell you later. I know Rainbow Dash was reckless up there, but if she hadn't gotten the dragon out of his cave Fluttershy would never have found the bravery to do what she did. As for Pinkie Pie and Rarity..." Twilight stood for a minute, lightly tapping her hoof on the wooden floor to a regular beat. At last, she spoke. "Nothing, really"

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. But Spike, Pinkie Pie is always smiling, and always making us smile. What if that trip had taken days, or weeks or years? I don't think anypony but Pinkie Pie could have kept us going."

"And...Rarity?"

"Rarity came this close", Twilight held her hooves an inch apart, "to tricking that dragon into leaving the cave and abandoning his jewels. Pretty amazing of her, wouldn't you say?"

Spike was smitten with Rarity and she wasn't even in the room. "Amazing..." he said dreamily.

"I would sure like a pony like her to be around in a lot of situations. Not this time, but that doesn't mean she has no purpose! And don't forget yourself, Spike. We wouldn't have gotten Fluttershy to even leave Ponyville if you hadn't agreed to look after her animals while she was gone."

"So what you're saying is that every friend has something special to add to our lives, and to make the world a better place at the same time?"

"Exactly! All ponies need the help of their friends to fully realize their potential, and nopony is completely useless."

"Wow, imagine if everypony was friends with everypony!"

"Well, that's what we try to achieve everyday, isn't it? That’s what Harmony is!."

"I'll bet there's nothing in the whole Universe more powerful than Harmony!" Spike jumped at the exciting concept. He ran up to and embraced Twilight with renewed appreciation for their friendship.

"I don't think there is, either" Twilight smiled. She thought of writing another letter to the Princess, but decided not to spoil the moment.

Edited by KeatsLocksley.
Re-formatted and partially re-edited 06/10/13 by Admari and Alan Smithee

Alone

Dear Princess Celestia

It’s hard to believe that two ponies who seem to have so little in common could ever get along. But I found out that if you embrace each others’ differences, you just might be surprised to discover a way to be friends after all.

Standing in the open door to the library, Spike read the belated letter Twilight had shoved into his claws the moment they got back from the train station. The accompanying story - that Applejack and Rarity had grown close enough to spend a whole night in each others’ company and not drive each other crazy - made Spike wonder if he’d really been away a month instead of just a day.

After placing Spike’s bags in an appropriate, temporary spot on the floor to be unpacked, Twilight watched the dragon scan the letter. She had a wide grin on her face. As Spike rolled the letter up, she leaned forward in anticipation. “So...what do you think?” She asked invitingly.

Spike had come a long way. He was tired and hungry. “Good letter, Twilight. Princess Celestia will like it” With that he sent it. Twilight’s smile disappeared and her ears drooped.

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

“Yeah. You should have mentioned who the two ponies were, but otherwise it was fine. I brought some donuts back from Canterlot. Wanna have a snack?”

“Come on, Spike! Don’t you see the importance of what I learned?”

Spike didn’t want a lecture, but what could he do?“No, I don’t. Can you explain it to me over a donut? There’s a big bag right behind you...”

“It means that anypony can be friends with anypony!”Spike sighed in resignation, and tried to figure out what this meant. They’d had a conversation about this recently. It had had something to do with…

“...Harmony!” he blurted out, but had nothing intelligent to add.

Twilight clapped her hooves together in excitement. “You got it! It means that Harmony is really possible. It’s not just an idea.”

Spike rolled his eyes.“Of course it’s possible” he said, “If we wanted to we could just tell everypony why they had to be nice to everyp-”

“No!” Twilight almost shouted, and jumped closer to Spike, “You can’t pretend to be friends with someone. Applejack and Rarity tried that during the slumber party, and they nearly destroyed the library because they were less like themselves by pretending. Neither would have let that tree fall on us if the other hadn’t been there. It isn’t just unnatural to pretend being friends, it’s outright dangerous!” Twilight had stretched her neck forward so far her nose was touching Spike’s, and her pupils had shrunk to tiny black beads. Her tail was almost horizontal. Every muscle in her body was tensed up.

Spike burst out laughing. “Relax, Twilight!”, he told her, “You’re acting ridiculous.”
Twilight was confused until it registered how uncomfortable her posture was making her. She looked at herself, saw how worked up she’d gotten, and couldn’t do anything but join Spike in laughing at her expense.

When the laughter died down, Twilight conceded, “You’re right. We know who our friends are. We’ll never let each other down.” Spike’s eye was a little moist, but he couldn’t have been laughing that hard.

“I missed you”, he said quietly, “It was lonely in Canterlot without you.”

“You know, according to what I’ve learned, you should never have to feel lonely because any pony can be...” The sight of Spike with his arms crossed, and an unimpressed look on his face made Twilight stop and think.

She blushed, and then said sincerely, “...I missed you, too”

“They won’t get me tonight. They can’t. It wouldn’t be fair if they got me tonight.” Simon’s baritone voice filled the metal craft, cutting through the constant clatter of the raindrops pelting the hull. His words were futile: The nearest human was twenty-five light-years away.

He lay on his bunk, his face pressed against the porthole next to his head. The glass may as well have been painted black, for it was nighttime and overcast and nothing could be seen. If it were daytime, Simon would have seen a swamp. Miles of mud would stretch before him, in most places submerged in brackish water. Trees would jut out of the water at every conceivable angle. Knotted roots would rise out of the water only to curl back in, like sea serpents from so many maritime imaginings.

Simon also would have seen, to his dismay, a bright pink flower in full bloom, two meters across, facing straight up to the sky, about fifteen meters away. Simon had to go out and dig up that flower before sunrise.

As it was, Simon could see nothing with his eyes, but his imagination kept offering an image of what awaited him outside: Hairballs, perhaps a dozen or maybe just one, either wandering through or standing idle, eating. They stood seven feet tall with big, powerful legs on top of huge webbed feet. Sticking out of their flabby, spherical torsos were two long arms with hands that had four fingers each. These arms were powerful enough to uproot trees, which they did on a regular basis. They had no head, but a meter-wide circular mouth they used to eat the trees. The most peculiar sight Simon had seen in his time in the swamp was a Hairball, standing in one spot, with a tree the size of a three-story building sticking straight up out of it. Over the course of a week the tree disappeared into the creature’s body, like sucking on a candy cane.
They were fiercely territorial, charging and bludgeoning into a pulp anything they heard sloshing through the swamp. Simon had landed in their territory.

What made their charges so scary was how difficult they were to kill. Their torsos were mostly hair and muscle, which Simon’s .44 Magnum could easily punch through, but all of their vital organs were wrapped in a sac suspended from fibers that allowed it to dangle freely in its otherwise hollow chest cavity. It was impossible to tell where the sac was in a given instant. So far he’d been lucky and had not had to fire more than five shots before the Hairball fell.

One day Simon had a brilliant insight: Hairballs were hard to kill with projectile weapons because of the pink flowers, like the one Simon could not currently see out his bedside porthole. The pink flowers had a vast network of roots that stretched for ten meters in all directions around them. When something put enough pressure on these roots, the flower would shoot a toxic barb with terrifying speed and accuracy. The victim, still living so long as they didn’t drown, would then be enveloped as the roots grew over them, and dragged down into the mud.

The Hairballs had developed the dangling organ sac as a defence mechanism against the flowers. It was a beautiful display of evolution. Simon logged a report on his findings. He’d never been more proud of himself: no human being who had ever existed knew what Simon knew. Every paper he’d ever written, including his Masters thesis, had more than one name on it, until now.

The only problem was he needed to now bring one of the pink flowers back with him, a task he’d put off until now, his last night in the swamp. At sunrise, the ship would take off for the next part of the planet he was to explore, whether Simon was on board or not. This was intentional of the mission plan so that, even if he got killed, the ship would still return to Earth and something of the outcome would be known. Sunrise was in ten hours. The planet had a forty hour day. Sunrise was in ten hours. The planet had a forty hour day.

He couldn’t go out until it stopped raining. The danger of something sneaking up on him was too high. Forecasts and common sense told Simon that the rain would stop before sunrise. After he had the flower, he could while away the final hours until the ship took off in the safety of the hull.

But what if this last excursion outside was the end of his lucky streak? As he kept imagining, what if a horde of Hairballs were out there waiting? What if this final, easy task found him scattered across the surface of the swamp? In several bits. The thought made him want to pull the covers over his face. Instead, he threw the sheet off and walked out of his cabin.

“They won’t get me tonight. They haven’t gotten me yet. It’s more than just luck. They won’t get me tonight.”

He headed to the front of the ship.

Thirty feet long with a fifteen-foot wingspan, the spot she landed had to be cleared of trees before she set down by a team of robots. She sat on the ground on three legs arranged like a tricycle. Her front landing gear also served as the staircase to the entrance. Inside she was a long hall with five side rooms. Simon stood at the front, facing the thick metal door that led outside. Immediately to his left was the first side-room, the equipment room. He turned around and headed back down the hall, passing first his cabin on his left.

He passed the medical bay on his right. He’d had the good grace so far to only enter this room for routine, scheduled examinations. It was hexagonal, roughly eight feet in diameter, and had a single white chair in the center that could tilt and bend into a thousand different positions. Above the chair hung a chandelier of two dozen robotic arms, each with a distinct surgical implement fastened at the end. It hung motionless like a spider waiting for a victim to sit in the chair.

He continued aft. Also on his right was the eating area. It consisted of a stool, a table, and a meal dispenser in the wall. Much time had been spent here, little of it worth remembering.

Finally on his left was the rec room. It consisted of a chair, a lamp and a monitor. It was in this room Simon spent most of his spare time. He watched a lot of movies. He’d watched The Wizard of Oz fifteen times, according to the records. He thought he knew why: It was the story of finding your way home. He was sympathetic.

Beyond the rec room the hall hit a dead end, but on the ceiling was a door through which Simon would pass to go from this ship, the excursion craft, to the giant, long-range craft orbiting the planet. It was this behemoth that had brought him here, and it was also going to take him home.

The rain still fell heavily. Simon stood beneath the door, looking straight up at it. He closed his eyes. He tapped his bare feet together three times. He said, “There’s no place like home”

He opened his eyes to the whitewashed walls of the ship. He was still twenty-five light-years from home, and he still had to go outside.

“If I only had the nerve”, he sang.

He hummed the tune as he walked the length of the ship again. Again he stood at the door leading out. It still wasn’t time. He turned around again. This time he skipped down the hall, as though it were the Yellow Brick Road.

We’re off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz!
We hear he is, a wiz of a wiz, if ever a wiz there was!
If ever, oh ever a wiz there was, the Wizard of Oz is one because,
because because because because because...
because of the wonderful things he does!
We’re off to see the Wizard, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!

Simon did not hold back. His voice reverberated through the ship, drowning out the rain and all other noise.

When he finished, there was silence, save for the rain. He didn’t like the silence.

He sang every song he knew. It took him two hours. Most of them were from Broadway revivals he’d watched growing up. He was a fine singer, he’d been told. In truth, he didn’t care one bit how good he was. In school, he’d performed onstage many times, and simply loved the feeling of being the center of attention. He jumped, he ran, he danced. The ship was full of sound and life.

Out of the equipment room glided a robot attached to a rail on the ceiling. It slid along the length of the ship until it was next to and got Simon’s attention. Simon looked into the camera on the robot. Beneath the camera was a monitor showing bodies of text, and beneath that a dusty keyboard.

“Hello, Al. Want to sing with me?”

“No, Simon, I do not” the robot replied with an edge of contempt.

“Are you sure? Didn’t they teach you to sing?”

“Simon, Listen.” Simon listened. There was nothing. No rain. Dead silence.

He sighed. “Al, turn on all the floodlights”

“Simon, you only need the floodlights on the one side”

“I don’t like the dark”

“Very well. All floodlights are on”

Simon rushed to his cabin and looked out the porthole. Al trundled after him.
The pink flower was still there, on the edge of the floodlight’s range. There was nothing else.
He sighed again.

In a warm jacket, long pants and thigh boots, Simon descended the steps. The storm had flooded the swamp and the water reached the third step. Simon waded through the water, harnessed to a specimen box the size of a coffin that floated behind him. He had a shovel in his hands. He approached the pink flower.

He felt the roots under his foot. He took a deep breath of smelly swamp-air, and put down all his weight. Nothing happened. Mercifully, Simon didn’t weigh enough for the flower to care. He walked up to the flower and began to dig.

He heaved the pink flower into the box. It had been more firmly rooted and heavier than he’d expected. He stood still for a moment, catching his breath.

He heard a splash. He stopped breathing.

Another splash.

Simon whirled around and faced two huge, hairy hands emerging from the darkness. The thought of his gun, safety on, uncocked, holstered to his shoulder under his zipped jacket, crossed his mind for an instant when he felt the hands touching his neck. They started to close.
He raised his shovel and heaved forward into the blackness with all his might. He felt resistance, then nothing, then resistance again. The hands around his neck loosened. Simon twisted the shovel one hundred and eighty degrees. The mass pulled away, taking his shovel with it. There was a great, final splash.

There were no hands on his neck, but he still couldn’t breathe.

Simon ran back to the ship. Despite the short distance and his speed, the resistance of the water made it seem agonizingly slow.

He unhooked his harness, charged up the stairs, and leapt into the medical bay chair. A mirror on the wall showed him his purple face.

“What’s wrong, Simon?” Al inflected with poorly-simulated emotion.

“Al, I can’t breathe”, Simon sputtered. He made a shrill screaming noise as he tried to suck in some air.

“Could you repeat that?”

“I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I...can’t...breathe...” He didn’t stop mouthing the words and trying to get some volume in his voice. Finally, the chandelier began to whirl around and descend upon him. Simon’s eyes closed and everything went black.

Simon would have bolted out of the chair if the straps did not hold him in firmly. He was alive. He could breathe. He was very relieved. Al could let him out now.

“Al, c-” he began, but nothing else could be heard. His throat did not vibrate. It was just as though he were breathing the words.

Now Simon was scared again. He tried to ask Al what was going on, but the best he could manage were low gurgling noises.

Al entered the room, looking at him. The straps released, and Simon shuffled shakily to Al’s terminal and typed,

Al, I can’t speak

Al tried his best to sound sympathetic. “Simon, you suffered severe trauma to the larynx. A tracheotomy was performed to save your life by the medical unit. It was hoped that the repair work done had saved your voice. Unfortunately, that does not appear to be the case.”

Simon typed, Will I ever speak again?

“Possibly, with time.” Al’s screen printed out a line of periods.

“But I don’t know.”

The ship sat on a desert plain. Nothing moved. There was no rain. There were no sounds.

Simon paced the ship in his steel-toed boots, an intentional choice so that his footfalls could make the most sound possible. He’d never learned how to whistle. He was unable to produce sound. The silence was total and unbreakable. He was alone.

Re-Formatted by Admari 07/10/13

Return

“Simon, it’s Al. Focus on my voice. Don’t move. Relax. You’re still recovering from stasis. You’ve done this before. Stay still until you feel normal. You’re going to be all right.

“Simon, we are in polar orbit over Earth. We can land at any time.

“The reason we haven’t landed is that I haven’t picked up any sign of human activity anywhere.”

“Don’t try to speak. Please stay calm. Breathe.

“The global satellite network is gone. There are only a half-dozen satellites in orbit and most of them are not broadcasting anything useful. I have only received one message that is decipherable: A message describing a facility called ‘Vigilant’. The coordinates in the message place Vigilant in northern Scotland, above the snowline. The message is dated 3659. This is the latest date I have found attached to any transmission. The satellite gives the current date as 30 April 5039, though the satellite’s clock is likely out of synchronization and is probably inaccurate.

“Simon, please calm down. You’ll hurt yourself if you try anything strenuous at this stage in the recovery process.

“You might not know, much of our monitoring equipment was for one-time use. I’m afraid we don’t have very reliable data on our own planet from where we are. I’m sorry.

“Here’s what I’ve determined: Earth’s biological patterns have changed significantly. The Americas have lost 90% of their vegetation. East Asia and the Pacific Islands have seen a 5000% increase in vegetation. The major cities are buried under plant life. Africa, the Middle East, Australia and Europe are almost identical to when we left, except in the northern United Kingdom, which is covered in permafrost.

“Simon, listen. This is important. The current circumstances meet the criterion for this ship being ‘lost without chance of rescue.’ As you know, under these circumstances, I am authorized to euthanize you.

“I’m not going to. I know you don’t want me controlling your fate.

“We will put the ship down and attempt to contact any surviving humans. It is my opinion we not set down at Vigilant, because the excursion craft has only enough fuel to make one more landing, and I don’t want to leave you in the middle of tundra. However, you may want to investigate Vigilant. Due to it’s proximity to Vigilant, the high historical population, and keeping in mind potential language issues, it is my advice we set down at the location of London, England. We can depart as soon as you are able to enter the excursion craft.”

Business was slow at Carousel Boutique. Rarity paced about her shop, occasionally adjusting the mannequins strategically for any pony who might walk in to see. Her idle mind began planning the decorations for the Summer Sun Celebration, even though it was months away.

As she adjusted one of the several hundred feathers adorning her most colourful ensemble, she was thankful to have her concentration broken by the door chimes behind her. She turned to face her client.

Pinkie Pie stood in her boutique staring at a long, flowing gown. “OOOH! This one’s pretty! This one, too! Shiny! Pretty! Fancy! Pretty!” Pinkie visited nearly every corner of the room, admiring anything even remotely pretty. She leapt over the mannequins that stood in her way.

Rarity was horrified.

Pinkie’s constant movement was creating a whirlwind inside the boutique. Loose streamers flapped about, dresses were blown into shapes that were not at all flattering, and Rarity’s mane was getting tossed out of shape.

A feather fluttered before her face. She turned around and saw her work stripped bare; there were feathers everywhere but on the dress.

“PINKIE PIE!” she shrieked.

Pinkie came to a screeching halt inches from Rarity’s face. Rarity glared at the clownish Earth Pony.

“Pinkie, tell me what it is you came in here for, and then get out of my shop!” Rarity was not concerned about losing Pinkie as a client. She wanted nothing to do with this ridiculous Earth pony.

Pinkie Pie produced from nowhere two folds of paper that Rarity recognized as party invitations.

“Quill Scribbler and Ivory Scroll are moving away from Ponyville. I’m throwing a big going-away party for them in the library this Thursday!”

Rarity read the first invitation. It said exactly that. The second invitation was blank.

“Yes, I see. And what’s the other invitation for? It doesn’t say anything, other than that I’m invited.”

“That’s the invitation for the welcome party for the next pony who’s moving into the library. I don’t know who it is or when they’re coming, but when they do, we’ll hold a great big surprise party in the library, and...” Pinkie jumped. “...you’re invite- WHOA!” Pinkie’s tail gave a tremendous twitch. It swung as far to Pinkie’s left as it could go, knocking over a mannequin, and swept all the way to the right, knocking over Pinkie with its momentum. For the briefest of moments, Pinkie lay still on her side, panting.

“Pinkie Pie, are you hurt?” asked Rarity, shedding her frustration instantly.

Pinkie stood up shakily. “I’m fine,” her voice quivered slightly, “Just that my tail twitched. Something’s gonna fall. Something really big. Not just big as in...big, but big as in it could change somepony’s life forever.”

Rarity was awed to see Pinkie so humbled by her premonition, and wondered what it could be falling to spook Pinkie Pie. In no time at all though the smile returned to Pinkie’s face and she was perky as ever.

“Well, see you at the parties!”

Pinkie skipped out of Carousel Boutique humming.

Re-Formatted by Admari 07/10/13

Night

Once upon a time in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters who ruled together, and created Harmony for all the land. To do this, the eldest used her unicorn powers to raise the sun at dawn. The younger brought out the moon to begin the night. Thus, the two sisters maintained balance for their kingdom and their subjects, all the different types of ponies.

I promised Luna that we could make Equestria a paradise on Earth: A land where all were accepted and had purpose. A world bound in Harmony.

“But what of the stupid, the selfish, and the cruel?” she asked, for in those days, many such souls still existed in Equestria.

“Some will change their ways when they see the bliss that Harmony brings forth. Others will continue to reject it. They will live and die in loneliness. Their seed will not prosper. It shall take many lifetimes, but the day will come when all who live in Equestria are bound in Harmony.”

“How will we teach our subjects the way of Harmony?”

“We will show them by ruling together, as equals. As friends.”

But as time went on, the younger sister became resentful. The ponies relished and played in the day her elder sister brought forth, but shunned and slept through her beautiful night.
One fateful day, the younger unicorn refused to lower the moon to make way for the dawn. The elder sister tried to reason with her, but the bitterness in the young one’s heart had transformed her into a wicked mare of darkness, Nightmare Moon. She vowed that she would shroud the land in eternal night.

“I will have no more of your folly”, she told me, “You say Equestria shall be rid of cruelty, yet you condemn Discord to be forever cast in stone. Why not be merciful and destroy him?”

“Because to destroy him is to destroy Harmony. Even he has a purpose in this world, and someday he may come to accept it. Would it be merciful to deny him his place?”

“Spare me your lies and fantasies. You speak of friendship, and yet I am shunned by all. They see me as the taker of day, not the bringer of night. Perhaps they would see me differently if there were no day to be taken”

She thought she could force our subjects to accept her, even though I’d taught her that false friendship will always bring suffering.

Reluctantly, the elder sister harnessed the most powerful magic known to ponydom: The Elements of Harmony. Using the magic of the Elements of Harmony, she defeated her younger sister, and banished her permanently in the moon. The elder sister took on responsibility for both sun and moon, and Harmony has been maintained in Equestria for generations since.

Nothing I have done has caused me more pain than banishing my beloved sister. But I knew she had to be given a chance to redeem herself. Today Equestria is peaceful and prosperous. Perhaps now she will see what I promised her, and Nightmare Moon’s ignorance will be broken, and Luna will believe in Harmony once again.

My thoughts turn to Twilight Sparkle. She has a brother, who she loves dearly. What if greed or bitterness took him? Would she do as I did? I can explain to her why I did what must be done, but I fear that in the crucial moment she will fail.

On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape.

Simon walked at a brisk pace. The sun was setting fast. When it fell behind the treetops, he broke into a run. Gnarly tree branches and plants reached out to him as he sped past, but by staying in the middle of the path he stayed out of the reach of most of them.

In his head, he heard a chant: li-ons and ti-gers and bears, oh-my! li-ons and ti-gers and bears, oh-my! li-ons and ti-gers and bears, oh-my!

London, England, once the capital of an empire on which the sun never set, had become a thousand-square-mile forest.

Al had tried to land as close to London as possible. They had run out of fuel while hovering above Hackney, near the heart of the forest.

As Simon ran, the ground beneath him crunched. It contained much concrete, metal and glass. Normal plants didn’t grow in the forest. The trees and plants that made up the forest were of a type that did not match anything in the ship’s archives, which were supposed to be complete. They thrived on ruins, and nowhere else: The forest ended precisely where London had. They had dark bark and knotted trunks and branches. The pattern of tree growth created paths that corresponded with the city’s streets. Simon had walked in circles several times because he’d followed the path of a roundabout. The fact that the plants followed such structure gave one an almost intangible sensation that the forest was in some way artificial.

He’d explored most of southern London, but had not ventured beyond the forest’s boundaries other than to confirm them. The northern portion he hadn’t explored at all yet.

He’d given up hope that there were any humans left alive: the Earth was clearly not spent. The world still held all forms of life. Yet London was completely abandoned. Humans don’t tend to abandon cities of this size. They’d much more likely build another city on top of it.

It was very dangerous at night, so he ran faster. The chant in his head sped up, and the voice in which he hear it louder and more urgent:

Li-ons-and-ti-gers-and-bears-oh-my! Li-ons-and-ti-gers-and-bears-oh-my! Li-ons-and-ti-gers-and-bears-OH-MY!

He burst into a clearing and under the protection of the ship’s floodlights. He looked up. The stars were coming out.

Aboard the ship he found a scene of carnage: Hundreds of tiny bodies lay dead on the floor. Out of the eating room Al appeared.

“Be careful. The carbon monoxide should have cleared by now, but if you feel strange, get outside immediately”

Simon looked at Al, and mouthed “What happened?” Al had become proficient at reading lips.

“There was an outbreak. They came from the specimen tent.”

Simon stooped and picked up one of the bodies. It was blue, perfectly spherical, had wings and six legs. He had put two such insects in a cage earlier in the day, and had put the cage in the tent that was pitched behind the ship’s stern.

“They multiplied too quickly. They got into the food supply.”

Simon looked up at Al, who was now in front of Simon.

“We only have fifty days left.”

The two stood for a very long time. Al’s screen clock indicated it was nearly ten minutes before either one moved.

Simon walked past Al, and turned into his cabin. The door had been closed and none of the locusts had gotten in. He stood over his bunk.

“Are you all right? Remember, if you feel strange...”

Simon didn’t hear the rest. He teetered and fell onto his bunk, and passed out.

Al was watching over him when he came to. He had slept through the night: Al’s clock now read 6:57 AM. The stench of decaying corpses shrunk his stomach, because it confirmed last night had not been a dream.

“Take it easy”

What am I going to do?

There was a painfully long pause.

“I don’t know.”

What are you going to do?

“I’m going to do what I’ve done since I was assigned to you. I’m going to do everything I can to keep you alive.”

Will you do something for me?

“Of Course.”

Remember me

“I give you my word.”

Simon rushed outside. The sky was still dark, unusual for midsummer.

He walked round the ship. His mind was frantic.

What was he going to do? Fifty days. Then what? There must be a place to go. There are no humans. There must be help somewhere. There are no humans. Send up a signal rocket? There are no humans. Rebuild the city? There are no humans. Get some fuel? There are no humans. Take off and fly to Vigilant? There are no humans.

Every path of action he could consider taking was thwarted by this unbelievable fact. It closed around him like a cage. It enraged him. He tried to scream in fury, but his throat would only release a short croak.

He stumbled into the tent. From under his workbench he picked up a heavy, lumpy white sack. He held it above his head and slammed it into the ground. The bag’s contents cracked loudly. He raised the bag above his head again, but was distracted by the sound of flapping wings.

He set the bag down. He lit up his flashlight mounted on his shoulder and pointed it at the workbench. On it was a wire cage, almost full of the damned locusts that had attacked his ship.

How had there been an escape if they were still in the cage?

Simon decided not to ponder the question. Instead, he picked up the bag and the cage and went outside.

He went to the very edge of the clearing and emptied the bag onto the ground. A wolf came tumbling out. A wolf made of sticks and branches and logs. The wolf had been bundled up with twine. The bundles rattled, trying to break free and put itself together again. Simon had wanted dearly to discover what force kept this beast alive, but the events of the evening changed his priorities.

Simon struck a match.

As he expected, the bundles started violently shaking. The wolf looked up at Simon, and whimpered, as though it were pleading for mercy.

Simon dropped the match. The wolf howled.

He picked up the cage. The locusts inside cooed lovingly as he held them close to his body.

The coos turned to screams as he placed the cage on the flame.

The cage vibrated as the locusts flew every direction to try and escape. One pushed another against the bars with such force it passed through like a grate. The two halves mended themselves into two perfect, living locusts. Before they could take to their very first flight, they landed on the burning wood and caught fire.

Simon watched with bemused interest as the two locusts frantically darted about, before their wings burned away and they fell.

He’d now figured out how the breakout had occurred.

The screams and howls quickly ceased.

His racing mind was calmed by the mesmerising flame.

As he stood over the dead wolf, he had a sense of familiarity with the situation. He’d stood over Mimi, his black standard poodle, as he stroked her wooly hair with one hand, and with the other he plunged down a syringe hooked to an intravenous, setting her free at last.

The floodlights flicked out. It was 7:30 in the morning.

Simon looked up at the sky. Surely it must be sunrise by now, he thought. But the sky was still black. Since the lights of London were extinguished, the night sky had regained its unparalleled beauty. Simon didn’t like looking at the night sky anymore. Having actually been there, in the inky void between the stars, made looking at it too harrowing to bear.

The fire went out. He was immersed blackness. He realized for the first time that the sun was not going to rise.

Re-formatted by Admari 07/10/13

Intersection Part One

Dear Princess Celestia
My friends and I all learned an important lesson this week: Never judge a book by its cover.
Someone may look unusual, or funny, or scary, but you have to look past that and learn who they are inside. Real friends don’t care what your cover is; its the contents of a pony that count. And a good friend, like a good book, is something that will last forever.
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

“It seems kind of obvious, doesn’t it?” Spike commented from behind parchment and quill. He was standing behind Twilight. Twilight stood at her podium. She was staring at her copy of Supernaturals: Natural Remedies and Cure-Alls that are Simply Super.
“Yes, it does” she agreed. With her magic she lifted the front cover of the book. The spine cracked loudly.
Spike yawned a fiery yawn. With the flames he sent the letter to Princess Celestia. In short order he went upstairs.
Twilight discovered quickly that the book was fascinating. The insight it gave into the zebra way of life was astounding. Before she knew it, she was looking at the book’s back cover. A million questions arose to ask of Zecora about the world from which she had come.
She pulled down another book.
Twilight stayed up to all hours, reading anything that hadn’t quite caught her interest when she first read it’s spine. She read obscure texts on history, magic, music, literary criticism, geology, theology, biology, medicine, nutrition and occasionally took a break and read some fiction. Every book had been lovingly crafted by some hardworking pony, hoping that she or he could instill knowledge on it's reader.

As the candles burned low, Ponyville fell completely silent. Twilight sensed an unnatural rhythm in the air. She stopped reading. She stood still. She held her breath. Something, somewhere, was making noise.
She stuck her head out the front door curiously. It was a little louder outside. She trotted down the streets, stopping occasionally to change direction according to where she thought the sound was coming. In this fashion, she visited most of sleeping Ponyville, but was ultimately drawn to the edge of the Everfree forest. There was no doubt the sound was coming from within it. It was music.
She listened for a very long time. The music was muffled beyond recognition, but she could tell when the song changed by the rhythm.
There was no going back: She had to find the source of the music. She turned to her left, and headed east along the forest’s boundary.

Miles and miles she walked; the late-summer constellations fell under the horizon behind her, and the brilliant stars of the winter skies rose before her. The mysterious figure of Orion led her. Nopony knew who Orion was, or indeed what he was. His name had been passed on from parent to foal for generations stretching back to the chaotic, forgotten days of before Celestia came to rule. Only legends went that far back, and none mentioned Orion. Twilight had always quietly admired Orion. To exist as nothing more than a name, and still be remembered by ponies looking to the heavens, could only be done by a figure of truly divine stature and merit.
Now Orion accompanied her as she sought the source of the mysterious music.
The mystery had her feeling enchanted. The Everfree forest didn’t seem so dark and scary with music coming from within it.

The lateness of the hour began to weigh on her. She dozed lightly as she walked. When she awoke, the music was much louder and clearer. She could now make out that it was an intense orchestral piece.
The music grew in intensity, and as it peaked, a fiery green trail streaked into the sky. It flew for what must have been miles, and then fizzled out. Twilight saw it glint in the sky, and realized that the sun must be about to rise.
The metallic object plummeted back towards the Earth. It disappeared when it fell out of the sunlight. A minute later, there was a muffled pop deep within the forest.
She waited. At some point she became aware that the music had stopped.
The smell of smoke wafted her way. An orange glow arose from the treetops.

She watched in awe as the fire spread. She felt the wind change direction, sucked into the forest by the hungry blaze.

After what could have been an hour, the fire came to her. Flames reached out of the forest, trying to find purchase beyond its boundaries. If Twilight Sparkle had stood much closer, they would have accepted her.
Flaming debris fell around her. The spell the music had cast on her was broken. She knew she had to get away from the blaze. Her horn glowed to teleport herself away when a raindrop landed squarely on her nose.
She looked up, and saw a pitch-black storm cloud, easily ten miles across, being pushed from behind by a hundred Pegasi. Twilight recognized a dozen of them from the Ponyville weather patrol, but the majority of them must have been from other towns nearby. Zipping from one end of the cloud to the other, giving orders and keeping the spread-out ponies in synchronization, was Rainbow Dash.
“Rainbow!” called Twilight, but Rainbow didn’t hear. All of her energy was spent on extinguishing the dangerous blaze. With breathtaking speed the torrential downpour put the fire out. The troupe continued onward, pushing the fire back until it was out of sight. Twilight was alone once again.
When the smoke had dispersed, she was blinded by sunlight. She reasoned that it must be mid-morning by now.
The sun illuminated her surroundings, and she was now standing before a gaping hole in the foliage. The trees still stood, but they were naked and bleached. It was as if the forest were inviting her in. It was as spooky as it was enticing.
With a deep breath, Twilight Sparkle stepped into the forest, toward something she didn’t try to imagine.

The sun rose above the treetops, illuminating the devastation that stretched before her. The forest had been stripped bare by the unstoppable force. Everything was coated in powdery ash.
The silence was beyond unnerving, and yet it drove her forward. She felt as though one of her pony friends was in trouble. Through music, some living thing had begged her attention, brought her miles from her home, and summoned her with a failed firework display. She sensed a great and urgent need emanating from deep within the forest, and it was this that kept her going, despite being tired, hungry and scared.
She hoped that she wasn’t too late.

Her journey brought her to a clearing. It was covered with ash. The ash reflected the midday sun harshly onto her eyes.
It looks like the moon, Twilight thought to herself.
At the center of the clearing was an enormous black object.
Without hesitation, she walked up beside it and sat down.
Whatever it was, it was destroyed.
Twilight placed a hoof on the side of the enormous hulk of twisted metal. She could feel the heat through the cartilage, telling her it was very painful to touch with bare skin.
She walked gingerly up the metal staircase that protruded from it. It was logical to her that at the top should be a door leading in. Sure enough, she found it. It was welded shut by the fire. Some lights on the door flickered and died.
She walked down the staircase and circled the thing, trying to find clues as to what it was.
It had wings, so it must be built to fly, she reasoned, but aside from that she could tell very little.
On the side opposite the staircase, which she’d decided was the back of it, were two piles of ash. She leaned in to inspect one. It was a pile of burnt wood. In her peripheral vision she caught sight of the second pile moving.
Twilight backed away and faced the thing, stifling a gasp. The thing did not hear her.
The pile of ash shifted, then balled up and ceased moving.
Very carefully, Twilight inched closer to the thing and studied it’s details. She could make out the profile of a face. An unfamiliar, alien face, but unquestionably a face. It breathed fast, shallow breaths. She searched the face, and found an eye. It was staring intently forward, at nothing in particular. It’s body was still just a heaving mass obscured by a coat of ash.
Twilight didn’t know how long she stood watching it.
She nearly choked as she asked,
“Hello?”

Edited by KeatsLocksley

Intersection Part Two

Intersection Part Two

An integer raised to the power of a prime p that does not divide it is congruent to itself modulo p...born 12 April 2060...2.7182818284590452353602874713526624977572470936999595749669676277240766303535...C...C++...Java...Python...Maple...Sequoia...Ash...Douglas Fir...Larch....Assembly...Actually, it is short for “Artificial Intelligence”, but you may call me Al if you wish...Perhaps it is not just our ambition, but our devotion to each other when our ambitions go too far, that makes humans capable of anything and willing to try...I haven’t picked up any sign of human activity anywhere...How the hell did this happen? How am I here 3000 years late?...Simon, why don't you leave the forest? There's nothing here...Officially out of food. I guess this is goodbye...She’s the last of the litter. I’ll give her to you cheap...Al, turn on floodlights and speakers, and prepare the rockets. We should have done this a hundred days ago...Rocket hasn’t detonated...It’s falling...Fire heading this way. Recommend you go south to the river and cross it...Simon, the fire’s getting close. There’s not much time...Simon, I’m just a processor and some RAM. Don’t stay here with me. GO!...

Not a single complete thought could enter Simon’s head as he walked around the blackened ruins of his ship for the twentieth time. Maybe it was that, in desperation, Simon’s brain was analyzing every bit of information it had, in the hopes that something could postpone his fate.

Launch in thirty seconds, Simon. This is your last chance. Do you wish to proceed?

Simon slammed his forehead against the side of the ship. Three or four days without food had numbed his senses, and he hardly felt the impact. It did silence the chaos in his mind briefly. He took this time to look at his situation analytically:

Al was dead.
He had no shelter.
He had no food.
It was safe to assume that his display had not been noticed.
He walked behind the ship and sat down heavily.
He was going to starve to death very soon.

He’d failed, in every way it was possible for a human to fail. And there was no one around to pick him up.

He buried his face in his hands.
Perhaps he would fall prey to any of the countless beasts that would roam the forest come nightfall. He tried to find comfort in the familiar weight of his gun. He reached into his jacket for the holster. As his fingers closed around the handle, an idea entered his mind. It was a simple idea. His fingers tightened around the gun’s handle, and his index slipped into the trigger guard.
Simon gasped. He released the gun, zipped his jacket, and wrapped his arms about himself. His heart was pounding, his breathing fast and his skin crawling.
If death wanted him, it was going to have to come and claim him.
Simon sat, waiting. His mind made no more noise. He simply existed. Ash fell around him like snow.
He slipped in and out of consciousness. The day passed like a time-lapse film.
His Universe was a grey cloud, uniform and empty and all-encompassing and getting darker all the time. When it was completely black, he knew it would be over.
A cautious “Hello” cut through the cloud like a ray of light.

He twisted his head to see her. Their noses almost touched. Startled, he scrambled to his feet. Her head came up to his chest. His height caught her by surprise, and she raised a hind leg to back away, but stopped herself and put it down where it had been. He held his arms in front of him defensively.
She was undeterred.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you”, she said, this time with conviction, but also compassion.
Her voice, and her appearance, calmed him down greatly. His arms fell to his sides. He retained a vacant expression.
“Is this yours?” she asked, gesturing to the charred hulk.
He bobbed his head. She smiled.
“I’m Twilight Sparkle” she said,
He bobbed his head.
“...what’s your name?”
He broke eye contact and stared at the ground.
“Can’t you speak?”
He replied with a deep breath, a hiss, and a snarl.
This time she took a step back.
He tried again. This time only a hiss came. His jaw and lips flapped in vain. He gave up and looked at her stupidly.
Her ears flopped in disappointment.
“Okay, then. I’m sorry, I thought you were...I’m sorry.” she said, and backed away.
He tried calling to her, but no sound came.
“I was so sure...” she mumbled as she turned her back and started the way she came.
He watched her walking away, looked at his ship, and back to her. He started after her.

Edited by KeatsLocksley

Author's Note

I promised y'all a Monday release and here it is, whether it's ready or not.

This chapter concludes what I call "Phase I" of the story. It's been an introduction to Simon, but also to the interpretation of the show we go with in this story. Phase II will show what happens when this character enters the world of the show. Phase III will of course be the point when all these concepts, and actions get woven together into the final conclusion of the story.

Phase II I hope will be better than Phase I was, since I've spent much more time thinking about Phase II than I did Phase I. We shall see.

Exams are this week, and I think I need a break from this story. Hopefully publication will re-commence sometime next month.

Cheers,
Alan Smithee

Intelligent

Twilight Sparkle trudged through the Everfree Forest with her head hung low. She couldn’t help but feel she’d failed somepony she’d never even met. Whoever it had been had been displaced by the fire, or worse. The thought of what could have been compounded her feeling of defeat.

Her thoughts turned to her current situation. Her depression turned to fear: It had taken her almost twelve hours to get here from Ponyville. She was hungry, thirsty and tired. She didn’t know if she could make it back.

She took a deep breath. Spike and her pony friends would surely look for her when they found her missing. She knew there was still plenty of hope.

She’d already forgotten the odd, mindless creature she’d met by the wreckage she’d found.

Simon plunged the syringe down. Though he’d sworn to never use the amphetamines included in his personal first-aid kit, he silently congratulated himself now for never actually removing them.

Simon chased the creature without thought to it’s origins or motives. It, She had come to him in his hour of need. Perhaps, then, she was an angel, he thought. If she was, then she was his angel.

He ignored his nonsense thoughts, focusing instead on catching up with her.

The drugs surged through his body. The sensation was like an adrenaline rush, only much more intense: He could still feel the pain and resistance in his muscles, but he was granted the ability to ignore them. He felt lifted above his physical self. He was a puppeteer, and his body a marionette to his will.

He also felt assured that everything was going to be all right. He became almost giddy with excitement.

The ash fell off him. The dry air wicked away the grime and sweat on his exposed skin. The sunlight hit him and warmed him to his core. He tingled with simple pleasure.

Passing a dead tree, he grasped a branch and broke it off. It was shaped like a Y.

Long ago, he’d planned how he’d make first contact with an intelligent, alien species, and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.

He approached the angel. He poked her with the stick to get her attention.

She turned and looked up at him. Seeing him again startled her. She looked frightened.

Using one end of the stick, he drew a straight line in the ash on the ground

“Wha...what...?”

He raised a hand. She fell silent.

Using the two prongs of the Y, he inscribed a circle, centred at one end of the line:

And another, centred at the point the first circle touched the line:

Where these two circles met, he joined both endpoints of the line:

The lines joining the endpoints also joined the centers of the circles to their edges.
The circles’ radii were of equal length.
Therefore, these two lines were of equal length, by the definition of a circle.
The line connecting the centres of the two circles also connected their centres to their edges.
Therefore, that line was equal in length to the other two.
From there, it was trivial to conclude that these three lines formed an equilateral triangle.
The construction was the First Proposition of the Elements of Euclid, one of the most ancient mathematical treatises. Simon looked at the construction in admiration, then lifted his eyes to meet those of his angel. Surely he'd demonstrated his intelligence to her.

She wasn’t looking at his eyes, or at his drawing in the ash.

“Is your name Simon?” she asked.

His jaw dropped. He followed her gaze to the chest of his jacket. Stitched onto the breast were the letters, SIMON

Simon buried his face in his hands and heaved a great sigh.

His angel giggled.

He looked up at her. There was nothing to do but smile.

“So, you do understand me!”
Simon nodded rapidly.
“But you can’t speak”
He shook his head.

“So that thing back there was yours”, she said, speaking of his ship.
Simon nodded.
“I’m sorry....”
Simon did nothing.
“...You’re not from around here, are you?”
He didn’t know what the answer was. He shook his head. No.
“I didn’t think so. Did you play that music?”
Yes.
“And the fireworks?”
Yes.
Her smile broadened.
“I found you”
She reached out and touched his arm. The sensation of her hard, fingerless appendage was like being touched by an amputee’s stump. Simon couldn’t stand it, and roughly shook it off. He took a step away from her.

She took a step away from him, as well. Her smile was replaced with an expression of hurt.
Without a word, she began walking away again. Again, Simon followed her.
She glanced at him. She gave him a look of uncertainty, but she also gave her awareness that she couldn’t stop him.

They walked awhile. The dead strip of forest was silent and bare. Simon wished she would say something to the effect of what she was. He wished she’d say anything. She’d given her name, but he couldn’t remember it. He didn’t want to stop to ask her questions, and he was certain she didn’t want to either.

Simon had no trouble keeping up with his angel. They walked side-by-side for a good long time. She was pacing herself, it seemed. He glanced at her from time to time, and noticed her eyelids were almost closed.

He weaved from side to side to avoid trees and debris. He noticed that when he weaved to within about five feet of her, she’d drift away and quicken her pace.

Simon stared at her as they walked. She walked on all fours. She had a thick coat of glossy, purple hair all over her body. She had a tail. She had an elongated face. She had no thumbs. She had no digits at all. He found himself fixated on her hind legs. Instead of an ankle, she had a pronounced joint about halfway up the leg. He wracked his brain in vain to remember the word for such a joint. Whatever they were called, he could remember clearly where he’d seen them: Mimi, his poodle.
She was definitely not related to humans in any way.
The more he reflected on this, the less he could accept it: She was so bestial. She had no hands to manipulate the world around her. She wore no clothes, and was therefore at the mercy of the sun and the rain and the four winds. His own survival gear could keep him alive at temperatures of below thirty degrees Celsius.
And yet she was leading him away from his ship, and the last vestiges of the life he knew. He was to live or die by her actions.
He steered his thoughts off that particular path. Her gait drew his attention to the mark on her hindquarters. It looked like a compass rose.

His angel glared at him. He instinctively looked straight ahead and quickened his pace.

The debris narrowed their path severely, and they were forced to walk in single file.

Simon ended up in front. He pushed away a branch that stuck out across their path. The tough, springy bark of the forest’s trees made this surprisingly difficult. He let it go. He heard a cry of pain and surprise. He whirled around. His angel was staggering away from him and the branch. She opened her eyes one at a time, making sure she could still see out of them. Her nose bled.

She glared at Simon. Her ears flattened, she held her head low, and looked straight ahead. She walked past him and continued at a much quicker pace.

They continued on their way. Simon was constantly looking over at her, and she continued to ignore him completely. It was evident that she was hoping he’d fall behind. They continued in this way for an hour or more. He had no trouble keeping pace with her, but he heard her breathing labour, and saw flecks of foam seep out of her mouth, and began to worry.

Simon sprinted ahead, blocking her path. She could have easily skirted around him, but she begrudgingly stopped.

“What is it?” she asked tersely.

Simon produced from inside his jacket a small, narrow canteen. He’d filled it with water from the Thames after he’d crossed the river to escape the fire. With exaggerated movement he unscrewed the cap and took a drink. He tried not to make a face at the water’s taste. He offered it to her.

She looked at it longingly.

“Thank you” was all she could say. Her voice sounded dry.

The canteen unexpectedly pulled away from his hands. He looked at it. A purple-pink aura was sparkling around the canteen and his hands. He felt a shock of surprise surge up his forearms. He pulled back on it. He struggled with the phantom force until he was interrupted by his angel.

“Can you let go, please?” she asked impatiently.

He looked up at his angel and noticed, for the first time, the horn on her head. It was glowing the same colour as the aura around the canteen. In his confusion, he complied with her request.
With stunned awe he watched the canteen float to her lips. She drank.

“Thank you again” she said graciously.
The canteen floated back into his hands. He nearly let it drop to the ground. His angel resumed at a much more manageable pace. Simon was rooted to the spot, examining the canteen to try to explain what had just happened. He felt slightly foolish.

“Come on, Simon!” called his angel, already some distance away.

He was shaken out of his stupor and continued after her.

The hours passed. The amphetamines wore off. He slowed. The gap between him and his angel widened. Would she disappear so soon after she’d appeared? She hadn’t yet noticed that he was falling behind.

Again, he wished he’d known her name...

“TWILIGHT!” came a voice from the sky.

He jerked his head up to see a dazzling streak of colour shimmer above his head, accompanied by a rush of air that nearly knocked him off his feet. The streak stretched before him. He followed it with his eyes to see that his angel was no longer alone. Another angel, sky-blue and winged, possessing a brilliant head and matching tail of multicoloured hair, grasped his angel in a tight embrace.

“What are you doing out here?! Are you hurt? When Spike said you were missing, and I thought I’d heard you while I was out here this morning...I thought you might’ve...That you were...The girls are still looking for you!”
The blue angel rose above the treetops.
“I FOUND HER! SHE’S OKAY!” she bellowed.

A giant, bulbous mass appeared in the sky: It was a hot-air balloon, hovering about fifty feet above the ground. Another streak, yellow this time, shot from the balloon, and once again his angel was joined by another, this one with a yellow coat and pink hair. Like the blue angel, she had wings.
“Twilight, we were so worried!”, she said quietly, but with the most genuine concern.

The blue angel descended and took a firm hold of Twilight, his angel.
Above, the balloon erupted in a chorus of cheers and greetings for Twilight.
Twilight looked at her companions and smiled. She had tears in her eyes.

Simon watched from a respectable distance.

“Thank you so much, girls. I don’t think I could’ve made it back without you”
“Hey, we’d never leave you hanging!”
Twilight looked toward Simon, who had gone unnoticed by the other angels. Her big, black eyes shimmered.

“Then I won’t leave you hanging“ she said.

“Huh?” was the response from all who heard.

Twilight gestured toward him.
“Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, meet Simon.”

All eyes were now on him.

The yellow angel looked at him discerningly.

“What is he?” asked the blue angel.

“I’ve never seen anything like him before” said the yellow angel.

“I don’t think he’s from Equestria. He can’t speak. I think he’s lost. I want to bring him back to Ponyville”

The yellow angel floated towards him, her arm outstretched. He backed away.

“Be careful, Fluttershy. He doesn’t like being touched” Twilight warned.
“It’s okay, Simon. You’re safe” she added.

He looked to her. Her horn shimmered. He relaxed. The last ounces of strength left him, and he teetered and he fell. He heard a cry of surprise, and felt a small, furry body catch him before he hit the ground. He lost all sensation.

Twilight stood over Simon’s limp form in the cool, dark basement of her library. On occasion he’d cough or turn over, then fall still. The spell she’d cast on him in the forest was meant to make him drowsy so that Fluttershy could safely pick him up. Evidently, he had been exhausted.

She’d thought of removing his clothes, but a small sense of decency told her not to. Ponies had a strange double-standard when it came to clothes: They were happy to be seen in public naked, but they were sheepish about being seen dressing or undressing. This behaviour had on occasion fascinated Twilight, and refrained her from removing Simon’s clothes from him.

With the help of her friends she’d transformed the room into a home for Simon in no time at all.

Applejack had brought over some straw bales from Sweet Apple Acres, which served as Simon’s bed. Fluttershy had brought an assortment of medicine.

For food, Twilight had asked Applejack to bring a little bit of everything: Oats, hay, flowers, carrots, apples, peaches, pears. Rarity had brought a small case of jewels in case he had a dragon’s appetite. Pinkie Pie had, without being asked, brought something from Sugarcube Corner. It was in a box, and she didn’t say what it was.

Finally, there was water. Big Macintosh helped his sister carry a trough down into the basement, and then helped her fill it with enough water to quench a cow for a week.

Now, all her friends had gone home; she was alone with slumbering Simon. She wanted to be with him when he awoke, so that he’d know he was safe.

As she waited, she reflected on all that had transpired over the course of the day. She’d gone from worrying about some unknown thing deep in the Everfree Forest, to confusion and apathy towards the weird, mute animal, to relief and excitement at discovering Simon was the one she’d been looking for. She’d felt spurned and humiliated when he seemed so repulsed by her touch. She’d felt harassed and exploited when he so presumptuously followed her, as if she was somehow obliged to help him. When his thoughtlessness so nearly caused her injury, she was convinced she had to be rid of him.

But then he’d stopped her from hurting herself when her frantic attempt to outrun him backfired. That simple act had convinced her that Simon was more than what she’d thought him to be. She was astonished at how many emotions she’d felt towards him in such a short time, without his speaking a single word. She was reminded of the night she’d set out to find the Elements of Harmony with five ponies she barely knew, and how quickly their adventure had transformed them into the closest friends she’d ever had. She marvelled at all these insights. She sensed something important was unfolding. Despite everything she’d been through, she was scared by what she couldn’t see that lay ahead.

“Twilight, please. You haven’t slept in two days...”

She felt Spike’s claws wrap around her neck. It was true: Two days ago she’d awoken to find her horn tainted with Poison Joke. She’d stayed up half the night reading, and the remainder being led to where Simon sat. Nevertheless, she refused Spike’s request.

“I don’t want him to panic when he wakes up”

Spike took a step back and looked at her determinedly.

“So when he wakes up, you’ll go to bed?”

“I promise”

There came a startling POP in reply.

Before she could turn and scold Spike, Simon sat bolt upright. He looked frantically around him. He was breathing heavily.

“Simon, it’s me”

He locked eyes with hers. His breathing slowed. He sank back onto his bed. He was clearly exhausted.

“Simon, it’s okay. You’re safe”

He nodded. He put his head down.

“Go back to sleep”

His eyes closed.

Twilight glared at Spike, who was holding a needle and a popped balloon.

“Spike, why did you...”

Spike put a finger on Twilight’s lips and gestured toward Simon.

“Twilight, you need sleep. He’s got everything he needs right now”

She paused...

“You’re right...”

The two climbed the stairs gingerly. At the head of the stairs, she stopped and looked out over the open basement.

“Goodnight, Simon” she called.

They left the basement and closed the door. Twilight had torn half the books off the shelves in search of some insight about what Simon was or where he came from.

“Let’s go to bed” Spike insisted.

She wanted to clean the room up very much, but she knew Spike was right.

“Wait” she insisted suddenly.

“what?!”

“I...need to write a letter to the Princess to tell her about Simon. I just have to... After that, I promise we’ll go to bed”

Edited by KeatsLocksley, Admari and Radon18.

Author's Note

I know I said I wanted to publish three chapters, but I know y'all are sick of waiting, and so am I.

I've got a substantial amount written of the next two chapters, and they'll be done at some point. Hopefully I'll finish them before Rapture.

Please let me know what you think!

Thanks to Admari and Radon18 for coming on board and giving me some additional advice.

Rejection

It was a beautiful, late-summer day in Ponyville. Fluttershy was out gathering flowers near the edge of the Everfree Forest in preparation for the arrival of Princess Celestia. Fluttershy sang tunelessly to herself as she went about her task. A brown squirrel scampered up to her and offered her a dandelion.

“Thank you, little squirrel! But remember, these flowers are for Princess Celestia. Only the prettiest ones will do.”

Just then, the wind picked up and blew the seeds on the dandelion away. The stalk wilted. The squirrel scampered away in embarrassment. Fluttershy giggled. She carried a basket of flowers on her back, planning to set it down next to a basket of apples that sat on a tree stump. A chirping noise from behind a nearby rock startled her and she hid behind the stump, dropping the basket. She peeked around the tree stump slowly. A small, blue animal with a perfectly round body and two huge, green eyes pulled itself on top of the rock. Fluttershy was intrigued and approached it.

“Hello, little guy! I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

It fluttered around her and looked longingly at an apple on the ground.

“Oh, are you hungry?”

She put a hoof on the apple and brought her weight down on it, turning it into mush.

“Here you go.”

It ignored the mashed apple on the ground and instead devoured all the apples in her basket in a sudden outburst of voracious energy.

Fluttershy gasped.

“I guess you were hungry!”

It cooed and purred. It nuzzled Fluttershy’s mane. The creature burrowed deep into her mane; it nestled comfortably.

“You’re the cutest thing ever! I can’t wait to show you to my friends...”
The yellow Pegasus pony trotted off toward Ponyville.

Twilight Sparkle leapt out of bed as soon as she realized she was awake, sending the covers billowing off the bed. They draped over Spike’s bed. Spike grasped them and pulled them neatly over himself without waking up.

Twilight charged down the stairs leading to the library. Hovering over her head was a hairbrush, a mirror, and a damp cloth. With expert co-ordination she had herself cleaned up by the bottom step. Given the messy state of the library, she had no problem leaving her things on the table there, temporarily.

She opened the door to the basement and almost called down to alert Simon that she was coming. She stopped herself. The basement was silent as the grave.

Her heart stopped.

She’d left Simon alone all night.

She didn’t know if he was injured, sick or badly malnourished.

She didn’t know if he could eat the food she’d lain out for him.

She didn’t even know if the food she’d lain out was even safe for him to eat!

Twilight bolted down the stairs leading to the basement. By the time she reached the bottom, her mane was ragged.

She found Simon exactly where she left him, fast asleep on the straw bed. Her heart slowly returned to it’s normal rhythm.

She sat, watching him. He did nothing.

Her ears lowered slightly. She noticed for the first time that Simon smelled very bad. It was a nauseating combination of smoke, sweat, and filth.

How long had he been this way? She lit her horn, filling the room with a pale blue glow. She made her way around to the side of the bed, taking care to stay out of Simon’s olfactory perimeter, to look at his face.

In the light of her horn, she could see Simon’s features. He had a mat of dark hair which was long and unkempt. His hairline was high above his brow. His closed eyes were set deep into his face, making them look dark and shadowy. Between them ran a bridge that bulged out into a huge knob of a nose. Underneath that was a pair of thin, pale lips. His pale skin was covered in grime and blemishes. His ears stuck out, and she could tell he couldn’t move them the way a pony could. His teeth bit deep into his jaw. His bony chin was covered in blood. Dark, bristly hairs unevenly coated his face.

He looked positively wild.

For a brief moment, she considered the possibility that he was not as intelligent as she’d thought. Perhaps somepony had put a wild animal in a suit that said Simon as part of a strange prank. The geometrical display was something that a wild creature could easily be trained to do.

She shook her head. Of course he was intelligent! He’d understood everything she’d said to him, hadn’t he?

Hadn’t he?

He’d given her water when he saw she was thirsty. If that didn’t prove he was intelligent, it at least proved he had a heart capable of kindness, and such a heart did not deserve to be trapped in the Everfree Forest.

When it became apparent Simon wasn’t going to wake up, Twilight headed back upstairs. She found Spike at the top of the stairs holding a scroll. The baby dragon shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

“Is it, uh, awake?” Spike asked, leaning to look past Twilight’s shoulder and into the basement’s doorway. Twilight rolled her eyes and gave Spike a comforting smile.

“I keep telling you Spike, Simon’s harmless. If he’d wanted to hurt anyone then he would have done it last night when we were both alone in the Everfree Forest. I’m sure you two will get along fine so long as you don’t start spitting fire at him.”

Spike laughed nervously. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Twilight took Spike in a warm embrace. After a moment, she asked, “What’s in the scroll?”

Spike handed it to her. Upon unfurling it, she recognized Princess Celestia’s regal writing.

My Dear Twilight.

I am excited by your discovery of this interesting, new creature. Your description is nothing like anything that now lives in Equestria. I trust that you will be a good host to Simon and I look forward to meeting him tomorrow during my visit.

The visit! She’d forgotten all about Princess Celestia’s visit!

She hurried to the window. Every last citizen of Ponyville was out in force, washing windows, tending gardens, and moving clouds in preparation for the royal visit. She turned to face her own library which Celestia herself had arranged to be her home. It was a disaster.

“Spike! Princess Celestia’s visit is tomorrow! We have to get this place clean!

Twilight Sparkle was almost frantic.

“Oh, hurry up, Spike! This place isn’t gonna clean itself!”

“It also didn’t mess itself up,” muttered the dragon as he struggled to pick up a stack of books.

“Princess Celestia will be here tomorrow!”

“I thought this was just an unofficial, casual visit?”

“There’s nothing casual about a visit from royalty! I want this place to be spotless, and you’ve barely made a dent in the clutter!”

Spike grunted as he hefted a stack of books up a ladder to the upper shelves. “Maybe you should… start reading them… one at a time. Woah!” Spike fell and was buried under the books he’d been carrying.

“Everything’s got to be perfect. No time for fooling around”

Spike dug his way out from under the books. “You know, this would be an awful lot easier if there weren’t two of us here getting under each others’ feet!”

“Great idea. You clean, I’ll see how everyone else’s preparations are coming.” Twilight made for the door. Spike was left holding her feather duster.

“Hey! Wait! Maybe I should-”

Twilight closed the door on him.

Simon wove in and out of consciousness. Hours passed in minutes, minutes dragged for hours. His mouth was dry. His stomach ached. His muscles burned. His head throbbed.

He was occasionally taken by fits and spasms. He kicked and rolled uncontrollably. He rolled off the bed and could hardly find the strength to climb back in.

During his brief periods of lucidity, Simon pieced together his memories of what had happened, where he was, and why he was here. He remembered the fire. He remembered that Al was dead. He remembered the purple angel. Her name was Twilight. He was in her house, on her bed. He felt a pang of heavy conscience.

When at last the time came when he’d recovered enough of his strength to stand, and could no longer stand lying down, he rose to a sitting position. The room he was in was dark. There was a pleasant wooden scent to it. It was warm. He felt cozy.

He pulled himself to his feet. He was stiff all over. Without urgency or apprehension, he felt his way around the room. He found a wall easily enough and he walked alongside it until he found a staircase. No doubt he’d been brought here down those stairs. Twilight, or another like her, was up there. He put his foot on the first stair, then stopped. He wanted to stay down in the stillness, the darkness of the basement. He didn’t want to face Twilight. He remembered how angry she’d been when he’d hit her with the tree branch. A childish thought entered his mind: Is she still mad?

There was a big, new world at the top of those stairs. One dominated by Twilight and others like her. A whole new world to explore and learn and understand and fit into…

...he couldn’t do it. It was too big. He felt tired again.

He caught a whiff of something fragrant. Fragrant and fruity. His mouth watered. He followed the smell. His outstretched hands felt something cold and smooth and firm. He remembered his flashlight and turned it on.

A pile of fruit and vegetables sat along the wall of the room, as did some wax candles. Simon hastily lit them with a match.

To see such tempting food laid out so attractively for him brought a tear to his eye. He pulled up the biggest, most delicious looking carrot he’d ever seen in his life.

He feasted.

Twilight Sparkle trotted down an opulently-appointed Ponyville street. Her critical mindset gave way to pleasurable thoughts at the citizens of Ponyville’s efforts to impress the Princess.

She arrived just in time to see Berry Punch and Carrot Top hoist a banner that read:

WeLcomE Princess CeLeST

“What happened to the rest of her name?” Twilight asked the two mares sternly.

“We couldn’t fit it all in” replied Carrot Top, in a tone that sounded like she might not understand what was wrong.

“You can’t hang a banner that says ‘Welcome Princess Celest’! Take it down and try again!” Twilight galloped away. Leaving the two mares to roll their eyes.

Next, Twilight approached Bon Bon, who was watering her flowers. Twilight was much more pleased with the beige pony’s efforts. “That looks perfect” she informed Bon Bon with a grin, “Keep up the good work”

Twilight’s next stop was Sugarcube Corner.

Simon couldn’t eat the food laid before him fast enough. He reduced whole apples to their cores in three or four bites, which he threw over his shoulder and started on the next.

The celery took too long to scoff down. He threw it off the table.

His appetite was becoming sated. He was reaching his capacity. He started noticing things aside from the food.

There was a white box on the floor, with a neat bow on it.

He sat down on the wooden floor. His palm felt the coarseness of the wood. He put the box in his lap and unstrung the bow. He lifted the top of the box. There were six cupcakes inside. Home-made cupcakes with pink frosting. Simon’s waning appetite flared up again.

In less than a minute, all six were gone. His lips were pink. They began to burn. His whole mouth burned. He could taste hot sauce in the frosting.

Almost in a panic, Simon dashed to the trough and submerged his head.

The Cakes were working hard at their sweet shop to get everything ready. Twilight Sparkle appeared in the doorway.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs Cake! How’s the banquet coming?”

Mrs. Cake pointed to a table of half-eaten desserts.

“Uh, it would be coming a little better if...” she trailed off. One of the few intact cakes on the table was suddenly devoured by Pinkie Pie, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. The crown that had adorned the cake landed on Pinkie’s head, and a beard of whipped cream gave Pinkie the appearance of an old King. She licked the whipped cream away.

Twilight rushed over to her pink friend.

“PINKIE, what are you doing? Those sweets are supposed to be for the Princess!”

Pinkie Pie smiled guiltily at her friend. “I know. That’s why I’m tasting them. Somepony needs to make sure that everything is tasty enough to touch...” She stuck her tongue out, much to Twilight’s displeasure, “...the royal tongue!” Pinkie’s speech and posture took on a regal air. “And I, Pinkie Pie, declare that these treats are fit for a King, or a Queen, or a Princess!” She stood up on two legs and leaned against a counter on which yet another cake sat. She opened her jaws to devour the succulent treat but was interrupted by a soft voice.

“Twilight! Pinkie! You won’t believe...” The excited Fluttershy hopped into Sugarcube Corner, saw her friends, and skidded to a halt on her haunches. “...oh. I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?”

“No, not at all! Come on in and make yourself at home!”

With those words, Pinkie directed all her attention to the cake in front of her. With one motion of her tongue, she pulled the entire dessert into her mouth and swallowed it whole.

Twilight glared at her.

“What’s going on, Fluttershy?” asked Pinkie.

“You won’t believe what I found at the edge of the Everfree Forest!” She turned to face her mane. “Come on out, little guy. It’s okay!” A blue ball emerged, followed by a yellow one, and a brown one. Fluttershy gasped. “Three?” she asked aloud.

Twilight trotted over to her. “They’re amazing! What are they?”

“I’m not sure. I’m also not sure where these other two came from,” said Fluttershy.

Twilight took one in her hooves. “I’ll take one off your hooves. I’ve never seen anything so...” She held it to her cheek, “...adorable!” She noticed Fluttershy staring at her. Her cheeks reddened. “Besides, it’ll be nice to have a companion for Spike so he won’t bother me so much while I’m studying.”

“Pinkie, do you want the other one?” Fluttershy asked.

Pinkie gave a look of disgust. “Ugh. A parasprite? Are you kidding?”

“Ugh?” Fluttershy echoed.

“A Pair-a-what?” Twilight asked.

“How could you not like-” Fluttershy started.

“Ugh! Now I gotta go find a trombone!” Pinkie interrupted.

Fluttershy and Twilight looked at one another.

“A what?” Twilight asked incredulously.

“A trombone. You know...” Pinkie fell to her haunches and imitated the use of a trombone before quickly bouncing out the door and out of sight.

Twilight sighed. “Typical Pinkie...”

Searching the remains of the food pile yielded one last item of interest. It was a small chest under the table. What he found inside made his heart jump: diamonds. Twelve diamonds, each the size of a hen’s egg. He held it up to the light of his flashlight. It shone with blinding fire. It was flawless. A short inspection showed that they all were.

These were the sort of diamonds men killed for.

He quickly stuffed them into his bulging pockets.

He turned to the stairs, and began to climb upwards. He hesitated, retreated. He began to feel tired again.

At Carousel Boutique, Rarity was having a time fitting Rainbow Dash for a truly opulent outfit, the most distinguishing part of which was a frilly hat that was as big as the pony who wore it. Rainbow Dash stamped her hooves impatiently.

“Stand still, Rainbow Dash!” Rarity ordered.

“Ugh. I can’t! I need to fly! This is way too boring for me!”

“Do you want to look nice for Princess Celestia or not?”

Rainbow resentfully fell to her haunches.

Twilight pushed the door open and glanced around at the various clothing on display. “Wow. Rarity, those outfits are gorgeous!”

“Thank you, Twilight! Nice to know someone appreciates my talents”

Rainbow pulled on her eyelids. “Soooo boooring!”

A chirp from Twilight’s mane caught everypony’s attention.

“Huh?”

“What’s that sound, Twilight?”

Three cuddly little insects emerged: One pink, one yellow and one blue.

“Wow. What are they?”

“The better question is, where did they come from? I only had one a minute ago.”

“I’ll take one” said Rainbow, snatching up the yellow one.

“Me, too. Oh, they’re perfect” Rarity added.

Pinkie appeared in the doorway.

“Does anypony know where I can find an accordion?” she sounded almost frantic. Her friends ignored her.

“Gals! Hello! This is important!”

Nopony heeded her.

“Gah! Thanks a lot!” Pinkie ran off.

Twilight sat over her ward, who had, since the morning, fallen fast asleep again. Her ears were flat. Her patience was almost gone.

She looked over at the feast she’d laid out for him. It was a mess; apple cores and grains of oat were strewn about everywhere. Whole stalks of celery were tossed aside as if they were worthless.

It had all been there to be eaten, of course, and yet she felt that it had not been accepted in the spirit she’d offered it.

Simon let out a tremendous, pungent belch. Twilight cringed.

She went upstairs to see what Spike was doing with their new friend.

With heavy footfalls, Simon made his way up the spiral stairs. The food and the natural sleep had done away with the anxiety he’d felt in the morning and was ready to face this strange new world.

At the top of the stairs he found a round room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of wood. The entire room was done up in soft, natural hues. Lining all the walls was a vast collection of books. Everything was tidy.

Simon crossed the room. The wooden floor creaked under him. He pulled a book off the shelf. Simon had a habit of skimming over things he read, and he only caught the word ‘Obscure’ in the title.

Starswirl the Bearded and the Amiomorphic Spell

Introduction:
Prior to the amiomorphic spell, magic was merely a novelty of little practical use. The works of Starswirl the Bearded produces powerful results from what may seem like a very weak collection of capabilities.

Simon skipped down a ways.

Individually these actions seem incapable of doing anything useful. However, when utilized in harmony with one another, they can seemingly defy the laws of physics…

Something flitted past his ear. He dropped the book and ducked. The sound of the hardcover striking the wooden floor started a ruckus throughout the house. Upstairs he could hear movement.

Simon searched for the thing that had startled him. The room became a blur as he twisted his head. His eyes settled on a small, round, winged insect. A pang of terror went through him.
He spied a lit candle on a table in the center of the room. He knew what to do.

In two steps he was in front of it. He saw Twilight enter the room from a staircase. “Simon…” was as far as she got before he placed the locust over the flame of the candle. He’d explain when he’d finished what he had to do. He grimaced as his own hand was seared.

“What are you doing?! Stop it!”

The creature thrashed about in an attempt to escape his grasp, and squealed.

The words “GET OUT” boomed so loud, it shook the room, and startled Simon into letting go of the locust.

Everything around him went white.

Spike came scrambling out of the bedroom in a panic. “What’s goin’ on? What happened?” he asked as he ran to the staircase, speaking so fast that he almost tumbled over his own tongue. Unfortunately, he did trip over his own feet while he was still several steps from the ground floor. Instead of skidding to a halt at Twilight’s side, Spike found himself belly up beneath her chin. “...Ow.”

It was a moment before Twilight was able to tear her gaze away from the black mark in the center of the library and help Spike to his feet. “Are you alright, Spike?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he found his balance on a pair of unsteady feet. “I was just wondering what you were freaking out about.” Spike looked left and right, looking for anything that might have upset Twilight enough to make her shout.

“Nothing” she replied through gritted teeth.

“I could’ve sworn you were talking to Simon?” he asked, looking around again.

“He’s gone. Just forget he was ever here.”

Twilight stalked off in silent rage back upstairs. Spike looked after her helplessly.

For fifteen minutes the only sound was that of his own breathing. He stood perfectly still, trying to sort out what was happening.

He was back in the forest. The smell of smoke still hung heavy in the air. The ground he stood on was coated in ash. Bare trees were all around him.

The fact that Twilight and the home she’d taken him to had disappeared in an instant prevented him from analyzing the situation any further.

After fifteen minutes, the shock of the event, whatever it had been, gave way to a need to take positive action. Simon made his way back to the ship. He turned it over and over in his mind, unable to make sense of it all. One moment, he’d been in a building. The next, he was somewhere else, possibly miles away. His head swam. He questioned whether there’d even been a Twilight. Perhaps it had all been a dream conjured up by a dying mind. He placed his hands into one of his many pockets. He felt something unfamiliar. He pulled it out. It was one of the diamonds he’d found in Twilight’s house.

He hadn’t imagined it.

On his way back, a strange thing happened. He felt excited. For the first time since he’d returned to Earth he sensed a future for himself. Somewhere, beyond the ruins of London, intelligent creatures still lived. The more he thought about Twilight’s appearance, the more certain he was she’d been shaped by the hand of man. Man’s legacy continued. Simon was to be it’s caretaker.

He danced back to the ship, smiling so broadly his face hurt.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’m afraid Simon will not be present during your visit tomorrow. Today, he tried to kill an innocent creature in my home. I thought it best to return him to the Everfree Forest. I hope that you are not too disappointed.

Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

Simon lay down atop his ship, exhausted. The metal door had refused to give way. The warped hull was uncomfortable, but at least it was safe. Lying flat on his back, his eyes wide, he stared deep into the brilliant night sky. With his feet firmly planted on the Earth, he could again face the cosmos without feeling lost in it.

In the West the Moon was setting. It was a young, narrow, crescent moon, eagerly following the wise old sun down to the horizon. He’d never been to the Moon, though he’d known a few who had. He supposed that now he never would.

There was a kind of ecstasy that time did not extinguish that he felt to look at the Moon. Painted into the backdrop of the sky, it seemed as unreachable as the stars beyond. Ninety-One years before he was born, the first man set his foot upon its surface. Less than a century before that, people depended on horse and carriage to carry them meagre miles.

In his head, he could hear the immortal words: One small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.

His heart soared.

Soon, the Moon had set. He looked at the late-summer constellations. Lyra, Cygnus, Aquilus. Perseus, Cassiopeia, Andromeda. Pegasus.

It dawned on him that the stars, too, had been touched by man. Planets, too distant and small to be seen, had been tread upon by human feet, and those feet were his. He felt mighty.

Simon fell asleep among the stars.

That night, Twilight stood above her sparkling bedroom. Spike slept in his bed, hugging the new addition to their home.

“The decorations. The banquet...oh, I really hope everything comes together in time for tomorrow...” She looked down at Spike and his sleeping companion. She yawned. “What’s there to worry about?”

She turned out the light.

Author's Note

I hope you weren't expecting the twist this chapter contains.

This was, without doubt, the most treacherous chapter to write, since the events of the episode are so integrally tied to the events of the chapter. A single mistake could screw up canon completely.

Thanks to Admari for the two brief dialogues between Twilight and Spike. I know they don't look like much, but trust me, my dialogue abilities would have made writing that a month-long task.

Next chapter will be out...aw, hell. You know I'd be lying if I set a deadline.

Forgiveness

Twilight and her pony friends were gathered at the edge of the Everfree Forest, on a dirt road leading to Ponyville. They were all were relieved to hear that Princess Celestia had to reschedule her visit. The Princess was standing before her regal chariot, facing them.
Not far away, a parade of small, flying insects was proceeding rhythmically into the Forest. The jaunty sound of Pinkie’s instruments filled the air.

“Haven’t you learned anything about friendship?” Celestia asked.

Twilight looked at Pinkie. “Actually, I have. I’ve learned that sometimes the solution to your problems can come from where you least expect it. It’s a good idea to stop and listen to your friends’ ideas and perspectives”

CRASH went Pinkie’s cymbals. Everypony cringed.

“...even when they don’t always seem to make sense”

“I’m so proud of you, Twilight Sparkle, and I’m very impressed with your friends as well. It sounds like you’re all learning so much from each other”

The chariot began to move.

“Thank you, Princess”

Pinkie Pie appeared out of thin air. “Hey, what happened to the Princess?”

“An emergency in Phillydelphia.” Twilight siad.

“Some sort of...infestation.” added Rainbow Dash.

“Oh, no! Have they got parasprites too? Well, have tuba, will travel!” Pinkie was getting ready to play again. Twilight stopped her.

“I think the princess can handle it.”

“So you knew what those critters were all along, huh, Pinkie Pie?” Applejack asked.

“Well, DUH! Why do you think I was so frantic to get my hooves on all these instruments? I tried to tell you...”

“We know, Pinkie Pie, and we’re sorry we didn’t listen” said Twilight apologetically.

The other four ponies chimed in to give their own apology.

“You’re a great friend, even if we don’t always understand you” Twilight continued.

“Thanks, guys! You’re all great friends, too, even when I don’t understand me”

“You saved my reputation with Princess Celestia, and more importantly, you saved Ponyville!”

Later, while sitting amid the rubble of Ponyville, Twilight would add, “...or not”

Simon half-awoke, and half-opened his eyes. He was not the least bit surprised, then, to see Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, standing before him, replete in her Technicolor bubble.

“Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?” she asked.

He didn’t bother to answer.

He allowed his eyes to focus. The image of Glinda resolved into a much more impressive sight. It was a four-legged creature, like Twilight in many ways, but taller, and brighter in colour. If Twilight was an angel, he thought, then this creature must be a Seraph. She towered above him in a way he wasn’t at all sure he liked.

“Simon, I presume” she said casually.

He nodded.

“I am Princess Celestia. I am the ruler of Equestria. I understand you met my student, Twilight Sparkle.”

He nodded.

“And that said meeting didn’t end well.”

Again, he nodded.

She smiled. “I understand. These things happen.”

With this comment, Simon felt completely at ease.

"Simon, I realize that you and my student had... let's say a rough start, but I would ask that you forgive her rashness. I am afraid she still has very much to learn about the world around her."

Simon got up. His head came about halfway up her neck. He walked down the length of the ship to stretch his legs. She walked with him. His boots clanked loudly on the hull of the ship. Celestia didn’t make any sound.

Every muscle in his body felt like it had a cramp. He walked with an awkward shuffle, and every step made him grimace. He reached down and squeezed his calf. It felt like a rock. He bent over and touched his toes to try and stretch them out. The muscles in his back resisted, and soon he was too tired to stand. He sat down gracelessly, folding his legs. Celestia appeared beside him. Her height was truly imposing, until she gently lowered herself, folding her legs in front of herself. She was still a head taller than him. She looked out into the forest.

“Equestria is a good place. We are happy and safe. Not like here. Here is where the vicious, the ignorant, the reclusive and outcast come to live life as they see fit…”

Something flew past Simon’s head. He ducked, and then turned to see that it was a big, fat, pink locust sitting comfortably on Celestia’s side. He made hastily for his lighter, but the sudden spreading of Celestia’s wings stilled his hand. Her expression turned piercingly serious.

“...and where they have every right to do so. We are all children of the Universe. We all have a right to be here. I understand why you would seek reparation from such a destructive life. But this is not your world, Simon.”

Simon put his hands on his thighs. Celestia’s wings retracted, her face softened, and the locust flew off into the woods.

“In Equestria we believe, simply, that our greatest asset is friendship. Without each other, we are nothing. You are nothing.”

Simon furrowed his brow. Celestia stood up.

“In time, you will come to understand. In the spirit of friendship, I ask that you admit to Twilight Sparkle your mistake. Should she forgive you, I sense you will find in her a true friend.”

With that, she leapt off the ship, gliding gracefully to the forest floor. “If you wish to to see Twilight again, follow me” She walked away.

Simon didn’t hesitate; he got on his feet, clamored down the wing of his ship, jumped, and, ignoring the shock to his knees, ran after her.

Simon could have easily justified his decision to follow Celestia using his years of study of logic: The suspected consequences of returning to Twilight was preferable to the completely unknown consequences of any other action. Furthermore, it was perfectly rational given the situation that being on good terms Twilight was certainly advantageous, that in a situation such as his he needed as many friends as he could get, and as few enemies as he could help having. Probability, game theory and common sense all supported his decision.

None of this had crossed his mind until the long walk through the forest forced his mind to idle musings. He didn’t hide from himself the fact that he was going back because it was the right thing to do.

He had trouble keeping up with Celestia. Her long strides and quick pace combined with the cramps in his legs made him worry he would be unable to make the unknown distance.

Instead of travelling through the scar made by the fire, Celestia led him straight north, where the forest was healthy. The canopy darkened their path. Celestia almost glowed in the darkness. Simon stumbled and tripped and fell, but Celestia glided through as though the forest itself gave way to her.

He wished he could talk to her.

They reached the edge of the forest. Celestia stopped at the edge. She said nothing. Simon stepped out into the open. The sun was setting in the west. To the west were the silhouettes of two four-legged creatures.

“Good luck, Simon” Celestia said softly. He turned. She was gone.

Simon was still for a moment. He stepped back into the forest, and emerged with a long, thick branch.

He headed towards the silhouettes, reasoning that Celestia had meant him to. As he came closer he saw that one was Twilight. She and her companion were mending a fence.
Twilight had a hammer in her mouth and was attempting to drive home a nail. With the first stroke, the hammer flew out of her mouth and landed on the far side of the fence. Twilight puckered her lips; she’d hurt her teeth.

“It’s okay, Twi,” the orange one said, “You can use yer horn if ya need to.”

Twilight shook her head and began to reach through the fence for her hammer as she answered. “No, no. I can learn to do this the right way, just like everypony else.” Twilight rubbed a sore spot on her jaw. “Even if it does cost me a few extra bits in dental.” She craned her neck through the fence, reaching for the hammer.

“Aw shoot Twi, as long as it gets done it… Issat Simon?” Applejack raised a hoof to wave. “Howdy Simon!

“Simon?!” Twilight echoed. She tried to pull her head out from between the fence-posts, but got stuck. She pulled harder and yanked her head through with enough force to send her stumbling backwards and falling onto her back. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

Simon held out a hand to silence her. He raised his branch. He saw her flinch. He stooped to the ground and wrote, clearly as he could:

IM SORRY

Twilight stared at these words a long time.

The orange angel looked at Twilight, then at Simon, and cleared her throat.

Twilight seemed to awaken from a trance. She walked up to Simon. “Are you really sorry?” she asked quietly.

Simon nodded.

“I...forgive you,” she said.

Simon felt a smile on his lips he didn’t recall putting there.

Her lips quivered. Suddenly, she rushed up to him and embraced him. It took all his willpower not to push her off. “I’m sorry, too! I should have tried to understand what you were saying! Please forgive me!” She looked up at him with shimmering eyes.

He nodded.

She let go of him and turned to her companion.

“Applejack, do you mind if I take Simon home?”

Applejack gave the two a look. “Uh… No, not at all, Twilight.”

Simon stomped down the stairs to the basement. He looked at the bed, and saw that the locusts had devoured the sheets.

The weight on his shoulders was becoming unbearable. He removed the outer layers of his clothing - his olive-drab greatcoat and his jacket bulged at the seams with everything he had managed to force into his pockets as the fire bore down on his ship. Though it had only been two days, the fire already felt like a distant memory. His boots came off next, followed by his soggy socks.

Underneath that he wore a plain, green long-sleeved shirt, and under that a white undershirt that was no doubt drenched in sweat.

Simon felt his holster at his side and hesitated taking it off. Inside his holster, beside the gun, was a yellowed piece of paper with a series of tally marks, each mark representing a bullet fired. There were nine five-tallies and two left over. Forty-seven.

He’d carried his gun every day for the last three years. It’s solidity and weight comforted him. It had kept him safe, though at times it hadn’t been as good to him as he’d hoped. He stroked his crumpled throat.

And yet the idea he’d need it now, when Twilight had done so much to help him, seemed absurd. With surprising difficulty, he unhooked his holster and buried it under his other things. Without their weight he felt light enough to float.

Simon emerged from the basement about half an hour later. For an instant, Twilight didn’t recognize him. His face was clean shaven. His hair, though still mussy, was clean. His bulky outer clothes were gone, showing his pale, skinny arms.

“I’ve set up some paper and a quill for you over here.” She gestured towards a simple podium with a stool.

Simon nodded, walked to it, and sat down. Twilight was standing over him. Her excitement was palpable.

Simon drew the quill from the inkwell - in a field such as mathematics when ideas can strike at any time, he’d improvised many unusual writing implements, yet the feeling of the quill was like nothing he’d ever experienced - and put it to the parchment. Twilight quivered in anticipation. He wrote,

Hello

Twilight blinked. “Hello…” she replied disappointedly.

What should we talk about?

“Uh….” She pawed the ground.

They stared at one another for a long time. At last, Twilight built up the courage to ask,
“What are you?”

Simon stared at her in disbelief. Twilight felt as though she’d said something very inappropriate. She dropped her ears and backed away a pace.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t know what you are.”

Simon took a deep breath. He turned to his parchment, and wrote:

I’m a human being. What are you?

Twilight read this. She didn’t know what a human being was. She decided not to tell Simon yet and answer his question.

“I’m a pony.”

In an instant, Simon was right in front of her, his nose inches from hers. His blinkless stare examined every inch of her. He grabbed her muzzle and turned her head from side to side. He pulled her ears back and forward. He ran his fingers through her mane. He grabbed her front legs and lifted her off her front hooves to look at the bottom of them. He grabbed her muzzle again and forced her jaw open to look inside.

“Sihon, I think this is an inhasion of persohal sace" Twilight slurred.

Simon continued staring at her teeth, watching the movement of her throat as she talked. His hand was on his flashlight when the meaning of her words got through to him. He felt his face turn hot. He let her go, and covered his face.

Twilight seized the opportunity to ask Simon a difficult question.

“So, where do human beings come from?”

Simon looked at her. She smiled encouragingly.

He stood up, returned to his podium, and answered her.

When I left, humans inhabited more territory than any other land mammal. This area was very densely populated.

The word “Left” stuck out to Twilight.

“Left? Where? When?”

Simon answered the second question first.

Three Thousand years ago

“WHAT?!” she shouted into his ear. Simon cringed.

“How is that possible? You’re three thousand years old? Where have you been? Why can’t you…” Twilight was silenced by a purple claw. A small, scaly creature Simon hadn’t seen when he came in had a hold of Twilight’s lips.

“One question at a time, Twilight.” He let her go. She blushed, and looked to Simon for a response. He didn’t give one. He stared at Spike.

“Simon…”

Who are you? he asked him.

“My name’s Spike! I’m a dragon!” he exclaimed proudly.

Simon blinked. He took a deep breath.

Dragon he wrote.

“Yup!”

He stared at Spike even longer. Another deep breath. He looked at Twilight, who was still bursting with questions.

I was sent to explore a planet outside of the solar system. My mission was intended to take 100 years. However, for reasons not clear to me, I arrived about three months ago

“Then what happened to the humans?”

You tell me. When did ponies begin talking?

The conversation had almost too many revelations for her to handle. “You mean, ponies didn’t always talk?”

Simon shook his head vigorously.

When I left, humans were the only animals that could talk

He thought, then added:

Dolphins have language. Dolphins and humans can talk
He thought again, and added:

Dragons were fictional. Trust me when I tell you they did not exist in any other form Another pause.

Why do you have a horn?

Spike arched an eyebrow. “Who, me?”

Simon shook his head and pointed at Twilight, who looked at Simon with about as much understanding as Spike had managed.

“I’m a unicorn pony.”

Simon stared at her for a moment before burying his head in his hands.

I need to go to bed

“What? Why?”

Simon was already halfway to the door.

“Wait! You just got-”

Slam!

“...back.”

Twilight hung her head.

“What do you think that was about?” Spike asked in an offended tone.

“I don’t know, Spike. I hope Simon’s okay”

Simon opened the door again. His back was straight. He shuffled over to the podium and, without sitting down, wrote something. He stood straight again. Twilight thought she saw tears in his eyes. He turned back around, crossed the room, and closed the door.

Spike and Twilight both approached the paper and read:

I want to go home

Author's Note

This concludes the "Sleep" trilogy, so named because all three chapters end with Simon sleeping.

I wanted to get this chapter done. So I told Admari we should set a date, and on that date we shall get the chapter completely finished.

He said, "How about Sunday?" and I said Sunday wasn't good for me because I'm meeting with some friends to go see a screening of Serenity most of the day and wouldn't be available.
Then he said "How about Saturday?" and I said I was meeting with my cousin but that I should be available after 5. So we started at five and we got this done in about 3 or 4 hours, between breaks to watch Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Firefly.

And then Admari proposed that Simon take up a career in dentistry.

Next chapter is "Three Months of Winter Coolness" and it will hopefully be over before the actual winter coolness is over.

Three Months of Winter Coolness : Part One of Five

1 - Twilight’s Request

Twilight Sparkle followed the dirt road toward Sweet Apple Acres. She was becoming more familiar with her new home-town with each passing day. The leaves had exploded into a rich tapestry of fall colour. Having grown up in Canterlot, she’d never fully appreciated the vividness and variety of the shades of autumn. Though every tree had a unique colour, at a distance the random splash of hues appeared to take on shapes and patterns: Long bands of red passed between patches of yellow and brown. It was beautiful.

She reached her friend’s farm and, naturally, found that Applejack was out tending to the orchard. Twilight wandered about the farm a while, casually searching for her friend. In time, she found Applejack hauling a cart that was, as always, full of the family’s trademark crop.

“Hello, Applejack. I haven’t seen you around Ponyville lately.”

Applejack smiled, “Well, I’ve been busy preparin’ the farm for the winter! Besides, I figured you’d have your hooves full with that critter-a yours”

Twilight grimaced. “Simon certainly has been taking up a lot of my time…”

Applejack could hear the edge of despair in her friend’s voice. She slipped off the harness attaching her to the cart, and approached the purple unicorn.

“What’s wrong, sugarcube?” she asked, draping a hoof over Twilight’s shoulder.

“It’s just that… I feel like Simon’s not all there… Sometimes he won’t even get out of bed. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”

“You think he’s hurting on the inside?” Applejack asked softly.

Twilight nodded. “I think he’s lonely.”

“You sure there’s no more out there like him?” Applejack asked invitingly.

Twilight shook her head, “He had a friend who died in the fire. He seems pretty sure there aren’t any more.”

“Hmm,” Applejack hummed.

Twilight continued, “I think we should…”

Applejack waited for a moment but Twilight had dropped her head to her hooves. Applejack tried to jog Twilight back on track. “You think we should…?”

“...I think we should get him to feel like he belongs. Here. Now. In Ponyville.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Twilight! What can I do to help?”

Twilight felt more at ease now, and didn’t hesitate any longer, “I came here to ask if Simon and I could come down to dinner tomorrow night. I think it would help a lot for him to spend time with a real Equestrian family, don’t you?”

The orange mare faltered at this proposition. Her smile faded, her brow arched.

“Are you sure? Didn’t I hear somepony say he eats meat?”

Twilight looked down at her hooves again. She’d been afraid of this. Twilight tried a comforting laugh, but it came out sounding nervous. “He does,” she said quietly, “but he won’t eat anything we tell him not to.” The look on Applejack’s face stopped her flat.

“Y’all sure, Twilight?”

Frustration edged its way into Twilight’s voice. “Yes Applejack, I am sure. Well, I’m not sure, but you’ll just have to trust me. Besides, he doesn’t eat meat for every meal. He’ll eat anything you put in front of him. Well, except hay.”

“What kind of meat?” Applejack was very serious.

“Fish, beef, chicken…” she said, trying not to emphasize the word “beef.”

“Will he be safe around our cattle?” Applejack asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Twilight responded with certainty. Indeed, she didn’t believe Simon capable of hurting a full-grown steer.

“You don't really believe all that... stuff about him bein' three thousand years old n' all, right Twilight?"

This caught Twilight by surprise. It had never occurred to her that Simon might be lying.
“I do”, she did.

“Hmmm…”

Applejack reached up, pushed her hat back, and scratched her scalp. She set the hat straight upon her head again, and put her hoof on the ground.

“Well, I’m not one to be unneighbourly. If you trust him enough in yer home, then he’s just as welcome in mine. We’ll show him the best family dinner he ever sat down to!”

“There’s one more thing…” Twilight seemed unsure.

“What is it, sugarcube?”

“I need…a perfect apple”

2 - Fluttershy

Twilight rotated the apple before her eyes very slowly. The sunlight glinted off the shiny, clean skin. There was not a blemish to be found on it’s surface. It was bright red and plump. It was truly a perfect apple; it made her hungry just to look at it. She hovered it behind her head, lest she eat it herself before she got home.

Twilight was excited about her planned dinner with Applejack. If there was any pony in town who could show Simon a true, pleasant Equestrian experience then it was Applejack. Twilight was certain it would break him out of his doldrums. She trotted home quickly.

She opened the door to the library. Fluttershy was standing at the door to the basement. She looked frightened.

“Oh please, Simon. Won’t you come out?”

Twilight sighed. Simon had locked himself in the basement again. Fluttershy turned to her.

“I’m sorry, Twilight. He was over there reading when suddenly he threw his book across the room and stormed downstairs.”

Twilight headed over to the desk Simon had claimed as his own. The space around it was piled with Equestrian history books and parchment.

She took a crumpled sheet off the floor, smoothed it out, and read. The writing was almost illegible.

Dates. dates dATes. Where ARE The DATES.

She mumbled under her breath, “What am I going to do with you?”

She snapped about and faced Fluttershy. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Now, we’ve got to get him out of there.”

“How are we going to do that?”

“First we have to get the door open.”

She prepared herself to teleport through the door when it swung open by itself. Simon hadn’t even latched it. Fluttershy blushed at her own timidness.

They found Simon sitting on his bed, his face buried deep in his hands. He was rocking himself back and forth. His breathing was very irregular: Brief moments of silence were interrupted by loud gasps. As they got closer, they could see his fingers were shaking.

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but Fluttershy beat her to it.

“Simon. I know you’re having trouble getting used to Ponyville, but if you let us help you, we can work it out.”

Twilight wondered why life had charged her with this troublesome thing. At first, she had felt truly sorry for Simon’s plight. It broke her heart to see such a lonely soul and she couldn’t bear to imagine the loss he surely must feel. She wanted more than anything to ease his suffering. But the days turned into weeks and everything she tried - talking to him, reading with him, even just hugging him, as she would with any other friend in such a state - was met with failure and, it seemed, resistance from Simon to accept his own situation. She was beginning to wish he’d leave and go be depressed somewhere else. Of course, such thoughts were always immediately followed by pangs of conscience and she always redoubled her efforts to find a way to accomplish the task she’d been given.

“Fluttershy’s right. We want to help you, Simon. That’s why I’ve asked Applejack to have us over for dinner tomorrow night. I promise, one meal with the Apples and you’ll feel a hundred times better! How’s that sound?”

Simon shook his head. Again he was resisting.

Twilight stood tall and firm. She remembered Fluttershy and the Dragon. Simon was still shaking his head.

“Simon, I want you to feel like you belong, but if you won’t even give it a chance… then I don’t think there’s a place for you in Ponyville.”

Simon froze. His eyes widened. He saw that she was serious. She saw that he was scared. He gave a great sigh, and slumped over.

She hovered the apple towards him, shaking it in front of him to get his attention. He raised his head. He held his hand out as if to take it. She knew from experience that he would not touch it so long as her magical aura surrounded it. During the first days of his stay, whenever she used her horn to so much as pick something up she got a look from Simon that was a combination of anger and fear. She was so used to picking up Spike with her magic that she’d tried it with Simon absentmindedly. It put him into such a panic that he overturned a desk covered in paper and candles, nearly starting a fire. She had consciously used her magic very sparingly around him since then, only using it when she needed to evoke Simon’s fear of it. She didn’t want to make Simon feel anything less than comfortable, but when he got in a mood such as he was, it was all she could do.

“Now will you go?”

He nodded.

“Thank you” Twilight released the apple from her magical grasp and let it drop into his palm. Twilight watched him bring it to his face. He turned the apple over, inspecting every inch of its surface. She gasped when he reached into his pocket, produced his knife, and skillfully cut out a rectangle off the apple’s surface. She couldn’t believe it. She knew there wasn’t a bruise on that apple. She groaned, and stormed up the stairs and out of the basement. Fluttershy and Simon looked at each other for a long time. Eventually, Fluttershy gave an uneasy smile, and backed away.

“Well, Simon, it’s been lovely spending time with you,” she began to speed up her words, “but now that Twilight’s home I think I’ll be going now. Bye!”

She galloped up the stairs.

3 - Applejack

For once, Simon was happy he couldn’t speak for he would have surely let slip an unforgivable insult to his host during the time between the encounter in the basement and their dinner with Applejack. His anger at her simmered all day. How dare she treat him like a child? Now, as he walked with Twilight to Sweet Apple Acres, he kept his eyes firmly on the ground, occasionally kicking up clouds of dirt.

Simon wasn’t sure he’d make it through the evening. Even now, he could feel a tension building inside him. Every time he tried to look at Equestria, be it in a book or out a window, he saw a world maddeningly different from where he knew he was supposed to be; his stomach shrank, his hands shook, and his head swam. All he could to was cower in the basement. He knew he was being childish. He knew he should be actively seeking answers to the infinitude of questions he had. He should be discovering the fate of humanity and helping to ensure mankind was given a fitting eulogy.

The only thing that was stopping him from doing what he knew needed to be done were his own neuroses. This made him feel worse. He cursed himself for being weak.

He resented Twilight for treating him so patronizingly.. He wanted to fight this indignity in some way. He was thirty three years old, not a child. He briefly considered lying on the ground and refusing to move until Twilight let him go home. He chose not to, however, and soon they met Applejack walking down the path to meet them.

As they approached her, the orange pony put on her best smile.

“Howdy, Simon! How y’all doin?” she asked. She spoke with a practised, pleasant accent and a gentle voice.

Simon gave her a depressed look. Applejack forged ahead.

"Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres, home of the finest apples in all of Equestria!”

Simon looked about lugubriously. He saw a barn and some apple trees.

"Want a tour?"

Simon shook his head.

Twilight intervened. "Yes, we'd love a tour!"

“All right!” She cheerily led them into a large grove of apple trees.

“This here is our North Orchard” she began, “Somewhere around here we’ll see my brother, Big Macintosh, harvestin’ the last of the year’s crop.”

Simon enjoyed touring Applejack’s orchard. The canopy obscured any pegasi flying overhead. The closed in sensation of being among tightly packed trees allowed him to imagine the crazy world beyond did not exist. All he could see appeared normal. It was quiet. The air was fragrant and pleasant.

“Say, Twilight, where’s Spike?” Applejack inquired.

“Asleep. He does that a lot in the winter,” she explained.

They found a large, red draft pony kicking a tree.

“Hey, Big Mac!” Applejack shouted, “Need some help?”

The red pony kicked the tree one last time, then with no small amount of humility, answered, “Eeyup.”

Applejack walked over to the tree and assumed a similar position to her brother’s.

“Watch this,” Twilight whispered.

With one decisive movement, Applejack thrust her hind legs into the tree’s trunk. The apples quivered. A beat passed after which every apple on the tree simultaneously dropped to the ground.

Applejack gave a victorious “YEEHAW!” while her brother set out collecting the apples.

“Next I’ll show you some of the livestock!”

Applejack and Twilight became enamoured in conversation. Simon lagged behind, puzzled by what he’s seen: had apples always dropped from trees so easily? The only thought that came to mind was the story of Isaac Newton’s insight about gravity, which may well have been apocryphal.

He passed a tree. He noticed that it still had one bright red apple hanging from it. He stood directly underneath it, looking up, unable to shake the feeling that the tree conversely looked down at him. The orchard was silent. He looked at the trunk, just a foot in front of him. He pulled his right leg back. He took a deep breath and swung it forward with all his might.

When Twilight noticed Simon had gone, she stopped Applejack and the two went back looking for him. They found him leaning against an apple tree, keeping his right foot off the ground. One hand was holding an apple while the other was rubbing a large bump on his head.

Simon was brought to a large corral. Behind the fence grazed dozens of cows. The thought of steak, roast beef, ground beef, beef ribs, and all manner of delicious, comforting food made his mouth salivate.

“Howdy, ladies!” called Applejack.

“Hey there, Applejack!” replied one of the cows nearest to them. She sounded like a soft-spoken, kindly older lady.

Simon did not have a coherent thought for a long time after hearing the cow speak. He felt embarrassed and disgusted. His stomach knotted and he lost all appetite.

“Ladies, I’d like y’all to meet Simon! He’s new ‘round these parts,” exclaimed Applejack.

“Well, hey dere Simon, we’re always glad to see new faces ‘round here don’t ‘cha know?”

The rest of the herd agreed with a chorus of “ya”s. Simon lifted his head, tried to smile, and lifted his hand in greeting.

He was very relieved to be walking away from the corral when that part of the tour had finished. He outpaced Applejack and Twilight Sparkle.

They moved on to see the sheep. They found an old, green mare with a pair of sheep shears between her hooves. She held it with years of practise, yet she could not hide that the device was not meant for a pony.

“Simon, this is our Granny Smith!” Applejack introduced the man to the mare.

Granny Smith opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment she lost her grip of the shears. They slipped out from between her hooves and sprang open. The tool went flying in their direction and landed off to Simon’s left.

“Dagnabbit!” the old pony grumbled.

Without hesitating, Simon strode to the shears and picked them up. His fingers slipped naturally around the handles. They were like a pair of scissors, except the hinge was at the back, not the middle, and they opened automatically when squeezed closed.

He became very focused on the tool, walking it back to where Granny Smith stood. He looked at the shears and where Granny had already begun shearing the sheep and attempted to mimic her actions. He pressed the shear close to the sheep’s skin and tried to let the blade glide through the thick mass of wool. Applejack stared in disbelief as he inexpertly sheared the sheep. His handiwork was terrible but the naturalness with which he held the tool was undeniable. Applejack turned around. Twilight looked at her and tried not to smirk.

“Well I’ll be…” she mumbled quietly.

Twilight smirked.

Before long, Granny Smith took over again. Simon squeezed his knuckles; the shear took some getting used to.

“Good job,” the sheep told him casually. Simon backed away slowly.

At last, it came time for dinner. The three mares and Simon met Big Macintosh on the way back to the farmhouse. Also on the way back, they met a small, beige pony with a red mane and pink hair bow named Applebloom. She came up to about halfway up Simon’s thigh. On first meeting, the two merely stared at one another, trying to comprehend each other.

The group came to the farmhouse. It was a large, rustic building. On entering, the first thing that struck Simon was the smell: the fragrance of a thousand meals seemed to stick to the rafters, as did the sweat of a thousand residents and visitors. The smell of burnt wood lingered. It was stuffy. There was a slight draught. In short, it smelled like a house, well-loved and lived in, and completely unlike Twilight Sparkle’s abode, which smelled like a library. He felt safe and contented just by walking through the door.

On top of the smell of the house, the smell of dinner being prepared was welcome to all of them. Applebloom went to her room and Simon and Twilight were directed to a comfortable sitting room to wait for dinner. Simon sank into a well-stuffed couch and nearly fell asleep. His stomach rumbled happily, knowing full well it would soon be sated. He hadn’t felt so relaxed in three thousand years. Though he couldn’t see it, Twilight watched him and smiled.

Applejack’s family sat down to a huge wooden table laid out with apple-patterned table cloth.

The table was covered in all manner of pastries and steamed vegetables.

All ate heartily, except for the little filly to Simon’s right.

Applejack looked at her sister with concern. “Applebloom, what’s the matter, darlin’? Yer not eatin’.”

The little filly pushed her plate away and put her chin on the table, “Silver Spoon got her Cutie Mark today,” she said in her little accent.

“Aw. Don’t feel bad. You’ll get your Cutie Mark sooner or later.”

“It sure doesn’t feel like it,” she said dejectedly.

Simon reached over and patted Applebloom on her head.

He resumed eating, but was soon interrupted by Applejack quietly addressing him.
“Uh...Simon? Could you...uh…”

Simon looked at her. With a grimace, she tilted her head to one side. Twilight, too, had a pained expression on her face.

He followed Applejack’s gesture, and he found his arm still reaching to Applebloom’s head. His hand was idly scratching the back of her ear. The weight of his hand kept her head pinned to the table. Applebloom was staring at her sister pleadingly.

He drew his hand back. Applebloom, able to move again, turned and glared at him.

A rough laughter was heard. Simon turned to Granny Smith on his left, who was guffawing at what she’d just seen.

“Oh, the look on youngn’s face!” she exclaimed, and burst into a full, almost youthful, laughter. Big Macintosh soon caught it, and was laughing quietly as well. It was infectious. Twilight stifled a laugh that came out as a snort, which in turn sent Applejack into a fit of laughter on her own. Then Simon and Applebloom, at whose expense everyone else was laughing, looked at one another. Simon’s lips curled a little. He saw Applebloom’s do the same. He managed a quiet, wheezy laugh, while Applebloom simply beamed. In less than a minute, the clamour died down and everyone in the room let out a huge collective sigh.

The Apple family were all gathered at their front doors to bid their visitors goodbye. “You’re welcome back anytime, Simon!” Applejack called. She meant it.

Simon and Twilight walked homeward in the dark. Simon followed the sound of Twilight’s hoofsteps.

“So, are you glad we went?” she asked.

He was. He felt himself beaming. Twilight giggled her awareness of his wordless reply.

Something cold touched his cheek. He touched the spot, and found it wet. Soon flakes of snow became visible even in the dark night and not long after the air was thick with snow billowing in silent fury all about them.

When they reached Twilight’s tree-house, they turned and saw Ponyville’s streets covered in a thick blanket of snow, silently burying their tracks.

Author's Note

Edited By Admari (though he says he doesn't need any credit, so just forget that he edited this)

An Immense amount of moral support By Hustlin Tom. I love you, man.

My work term is almost finished. It's almost time for me to return to University. Winter terms are gloomy here in Canada, I'm afraid I can't give a solid time for when the next chapter will be published.

Now, in light of recent critiques of my story, I ask that you all tell me which word best describes Last so far:
Clunky
Choppy
Chunky
Crunchy

Three Months of Winter Coolness : Part Two of Five

4 - At Sugarcube Corner

Twilight Sparkle leapt out of bed and looked out the window. It was a beautiful winter day; the sky was clear and blue, the thick, pure snow was dazzlingly bright in the morning sunshine.

Her first day of winter in Ponyville! There was much to be done.

She dashed past Spike’s bed. Despite all the ruckus she was causing, the slumbering dragon did not so much as stir.

Twilight sped down the short flight of stairs to the study beneath the landing where she slept. There her boots, her scarf and her winter saddle awaited her. With a majestic leap, she landed all four of her hooves into her boots. Next she took her scarf in her mouth, and with a quick motion she wrapped it about her neck. At last she came to the saddle; she gazed at it with some apprehension. She looked up to make sure Spike wasn’t watching, then levitated the saddle onto her back and fastened the straps about her midsection with her horn. She reminded herself she had to learn to put it on the Earth pony way before the end of winter.

Snug and secure in her winter clothing, Twilight raced down the stairs. She ate a small breakfast of oatmeal, and walked out the front door, passing without a thought the door that led to the basement.

Twilight went about buying groceries. She walked through the streets of Ponyville, admiring the freshly-fallen snow and icicles that hung from the roofs of the houses. Hovering around her were bags containing the last freshly-grown fruits and vegetables she’d eat for three months. About midday the cold weather was getting to her, and she stopped by Sugarcube Corner for hot chocolate.

Fluttershy and Applejack were there, sitting and enjoying some treats. Twilight joined them.

“Howdy, Twilight! Shopping?” Asked Applejack.

“Yes” Twilight replied, “How about you girls?”

Applejack spoke enthusiastically, “The farm’s all ready for winter! I’m happy to sit back and enjoy the season off!”

Fluttershy was less enthused, “All my critter friends are hibernating”, she sighed, “I guess I have the season off, too”

“Lucky for the both of you!” Twilight said cheerfully.

“I think you ought to keep an eye on Simon” Fluttershy said seriously, “He might get bored and anxious during the winter”

“How did Simon like the farm last night?” asked Applejack, “I’d like to hear what he had to say about us”

“He was really enthusiastic when we got home. He told me he felt normal for the first time since coming to Equestria”

Applejack glowed with pride, “Aw, shucks. You tell him he can come on over any time he feels like it”

“Twilight!” Said Pinkie Pie, who appeared inches away, completely without warning, “Simon’s been in Ponyville for a month now! I demand you let me give him a proper welcome!”

Twilight had hoped she wouldn’t have to go through this. She’d worked hard keeping the pink party pony at bay since Simon’s arrival, because the human seemed so unstable. But Pinkie Pie had been relentless, and the purple pony was running out of excuses.

“Pinkie, I know you mean well, but Simon’s in a delicate…” Fluttershy began.

Applejack chimed in, “Go ahead, Twilight, he was fine last night on the farm!”

Fluttershy tried again, “I think that’s because the farm is a relaxing place. Pinkie…”

“You see, Twilight? Applejack says he’ll be fine! Oh please! Please please please!” Pinkie jumped up and down.

“I think Simon’s scared of us. He’s not used to magic or Pegasus ponies. I think he’d be very uncomfortable with Pinkie’s….” Fluttershy whispered.

Pinkie’s pleas easily drowned out Fluttershy’s suggestions, “Please?!” She begged.

“FINE!” shouted Twilight, more in irritation than in decision.

“ALL RIGHT!” Pinkie bolted out the door.

“Twilight, I think that’s a really bad idea. Simon’s in no shape to deal with Pinkie Pie right now” Fluttershy said.

5 - Pinkie Pie

Simon ascended the spiral staircase very slowly.

He wore everything he had: Boots, shirt, jacket, coat, hood, canteen. He was dressed to brave the winter, though he didn’t plan to go out. All that remained behind was his gun, hidden underneath the block of straw that was his bed.

Simon reached the top of the stairs. The heavy wooden door stared at him. He took a heavy swig of water from his canteen and opened the door with a steady hand.

The room was light; the sun was well up. He didn’t want to know what the time was. His watch would tell, but he did not look at it.
He ignored the wooden bust that adorned the center of the round room, which glared directly at him.

He strode across the room to his little desk, the history book opened to the page where he left it. He was within reach of it when a waft of cold air blew across his face. Instinctively he turned to face the source of the draught, and saw through one of the windows that flanked the front door. He saw the brightness and whiteness of the world outside. One singular thought appeared in his mind:

snow

On the heels of that thought came another:

cold

He thought of the dreary trek through drifts of snow and biting cold. He hugged himself and shivered. More thoughts bore down on him. He realized that the lakes would freeze over, forcing him to gather fish through the ice. The miserable task of catching, preparing, and eating the meat he needed to live was to become even harder in the coming months.

The future appeared before him as endless, insurmountable obstacles. Hopeless scenario after hopeless scenario raced through his mind:

Maybe the fish just wouldn’t bite.
Maybe Twilight would get frustrated with him and cast him out into the snow.
Maybe he would go mad.
Maybe he would need medical attention for something the ponies could not treat.
Maybe he would spend the rest of his wretched life fruitlessly searching for clues about humanity, and die a dismal failure of a man.

Simon groaned; his stomach shrunk. He felt lightheaded. He became weak. He staggered back from the desk and fell into a sitting position on the floor. He tried to breathe normally, but couldn’t slow down. The books on their shelves towered imposingly and dizzyingly all about him. He shut his eyes tight. He needed to be somewhere else. He tried to remember dinner with Applejack and her family. The memory of the previous night seemed distant, faded, and not comforting. Every muscle in his body grew tense. He rolled onto his side and curled his legs up. He became angry with himself.

It’s all your fault. You had to go. You had to be a pioneer. You had to be a legend. You failed. I failed…Mimi.

He would have given anything to see his dog again.

He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to hold it. Slowly, he forced himself to think:

The square root of two is an irrational number.

For, towards a contradiction, let the square root of two be expressed as a fraction, m divided by n, where m and n are two whole numbers with no factors in common besides one.

Then, squaring both sides, two is m squared divided by n squared.

Then twice n squared is m squared.

But the square of m is even only if m is even.

Thus, m is an even number. Let us say it is twice p.

Then two is four times p squared divided by n squared.

Then n squared is twice p squared.

But the square of n is even only if n is even.

Thus n is an even number.

So m and n are both divisible by two. That is, they both have two as a factor.

But m and n were taken to have no factors in common, besides one.

But this is absurd.

Since expressing the square root of two as a fraction leads to absurdity, we conclude that the square root of two cannot be so expressed.

Quod Erat Demonstrandum.

This is how Euclid proved that the square root of two was an irrational number. Is an irrational number. Verified not by experiment, but by reason. Five thousand years later, his argument still stood. No amount of time, nor mortal action, could topple the truth of Euclid’s claim. Even as a mathematician, Simon often forgot that these things could be proved, not because people wanted them to be true, but because the Universe allowed them to be true. Such everlasting certainty seemed divine to him, and in his moment of fear, it reminded him that not all was chaos as it seemed.

His tense muscles relaxed. Moments later, he was limp. Still shaky and panting, Simon pulled himself up using the round table with the bust on it. He shook his head roughly, and sat down heavily on his stool at his desk. He was exhausted. He stared at the wall. Both the library and his mind were completely silent. He relaxed, and lay his head on the table.

A knock came at the door. Simon started. He stared at the door, and waited for Twilight to answer it. She didn’t. Another knock came. Simon trembled. Part of him wanted to bolt down the stairs and hide, but another part of him wanted to know who it was, what they wanted, and help them find what they needed, even if it was to tell them that Twilight wasn’t home.

He grabbed his paper and pen. He stood and strode boldly to the door, wrapped his hand around the latch, and pulled it open.

There was no one there.

He leaned out the door and looked to either side. The cold shocked him; yesterday had been balmy and pleasant. He felt guilty that he’d missed whoever had been knocking.

A deafening explosion burst behind him. He jumped. He swiveled around. In the brief moment he’d turned away, the library had been transformed: Dozens of streamers hung from the ceiling; the bust in the centre of the room was replaced with a multi-layered cake; flakes of confetti flew through the air; a pinata hung from the ceiling; upbeat music was playing somewhere; a pink pony stood on his desk.

“Surprise!” she exclaimed, “I know it’s a little late, but this is your Welcome to Ponyville party!”

Simon blinked. The pink pony was now inches from him.

“I’m Pinkie Pie! Twilight’s told me all about you. She told me you’re from a long time ago, and that you’re really lonely. She told me you were sad. But everypony’s happy when they’re making new friends, so I thought I’d throw you a party and be your new friend. What do you think?”

She bounced high enough that her eyes met his.

Simon’s breathing quickened again. The quiet study had become loud, and things were happening too fast and the pony was talking to him.

His stomach shrunk again. He walked along the wall towards the door to his basement. The pony sat on the floor, grinning at him. He backed away from her, not taking his eyes off her. He reached the door, turned around to face it, and opened it.

The pony was on the other side.

“Simon, you can’t spend your whole life in the basement! Have some fun!”

It was too much. His small world of order had been invaded. He fell flat on the floor and curled up.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?”

He shook his head furiously. He tried to hold his breath, but his lungs forced the air out too fast. He felt dizzy. He was scared he would suffocate. He breathed even faster.

Pinkie Pie stood over him, uncertain of what to do. Twilight walked in through the open door.

“Pinkie, you could have waited for…Simon!”

The lavender mare rushed to her human’s limp form. She lay down in front of him on her stomach.

“Twilight! Thank goodness! What’s happening to him?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“He’s having a panic attack! Simon, look at me”

Simon opened his eyes and looked at Twilight.

“It’s me. It’s okay, Simon. Everything’s okay…”

“Is there anything I can do?” Asked Pinkie. She was inches from him, behind his back. Simon’s eyes rolled. He was having spasms. He stopped breathing. The voices of the ponies sounded distant.

“Oh no!” Twilight was beginning to panic herself, “Simon! Breathe! Please!”

Fluttershy flew in. She hovered over Simon and Twilight and Pinkie Pie. She dove down and muscled through the mares.

“Twilight! Pinkie! Give us some room!” she told them in a commanding voice. They complied. She turned to Simon, and lay down on her side, facing him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled his head to her chest.

“Breathe with me, Simon” she said gently.

Simon listened to the sound Fluttershy’s lungs. He focused on the rhythm of her breathing. He managed to suck in a lungful of air.

Applejack trotted in. She walked between Twilight and Pinkie to see the scene before them.

“What in tarn---”

“SHHH!” replied the ponies on either side of her.

Slowly, his breathing became normal, and he fell still. Fluttershy decoupled herself and backed away from him.

“You’re okay, Simon. Don’t move until you feel better”

Simon sat up. Twilight, Applejack and Fluttershy were all standing in line, facing him.

“Maybe I should go…” came a voice from behind them.

“No” said Fluttershy, “Simon needs to know he doesn’t need to be scared. Twilight, follow me”

Fluttershy and Twilight approached Simon, and sat down on the floor to either side of him.

Fluttershy said gently, “Simon, I’d like you to meet a friend. Come out, Pinkie Pie”

The bright pink pony that had accosted him slowly appeared from behind Applejack. She waved and smiled faintly. Simon instinctively reached out a hand and placed it on Twilight’s back. In spite of all that had happened that day, Twilight smiled.

Simon didn’t move for a while. He looked hard at Pinkie Pie. She appeared to be a normal pony.

Pinkie broke the silence, “I’m really sorry I scared you. I just wanted to cheer you up. Can you forgive me?”

Simon heard the sincerity in her voice and knew he couldn’t in good conscience blame her for his problems. He nodded.

Her ears perked up. She trotted quietly to the big cake in the centre of the room. She hoisted herself up and, with a cake-cutter in her mouth, cut a slice onto a plate. She brought it to Simon and offered it.

“Friends?”

He nodded.

“THANK YOU, SIMON!” The pony exclaimed pinkly. She threw herself at him and caught him in a hug with enough force to knock him over.

Twilight carried a wooden tray between her teeth out of the kitchen and into the library. On it were some apples, carrots and celery stocks. It was evening; Pinkie Pie and the others had been gone for hours.

Her human was sitting very still on his stool, staring at the wall. He seemed to be thinking very hard.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Simon put his quill to his parchment, and paused. At last, he wrote his answer:

I’m scared

“Of Pinkie Pie?”

He shook his head, and wrote with a shaky hand,

Everything. Nothing makes sense anymore. I don’t know what to do. I don’t belong here.

Twilight saw where he was going, and knew she had to take action.

“Don’t think like that. Please, don’t.”

I don’t know what to do

“Simon, look at me”

He turned to her. She hoisted herself onto her hind legs, her forelegs on the desk. She looked into Simon’s eyes.

“You aren’t alone. I’ll always be here. I promise. So will Fluttershy, Applejack and Pinkie Pie. We’re your friends. Remember that”

Simon looked puzzled.

“Go to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning”

Twilight Sparkle was about to climb into bed when a burst of green fire drew her attention to snoring Spike. She looked over the small reptile, curled up in his bed. From her very first day as a student under Princess Celestia, Spike had been with her. In their earliest days together, the newly-hatched dragon couldn’t speak or write or do anything useful. She had spent many a frustrating night dictating long letters to Spike, only to discover that he’d missed half the words because he didn’t know how to spell them. She taught him to speak up when he didn’t know or understand something. She taught him to be curious.

Twilight had moulded Spike to be the outstanding companion that he was. She would never let anypony take him away from her. Yet if she hadn’t hatched his egg, her dear Spike would have been taken away, and Twilight wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

For almost the entire time she’d known him, Simon had been all but destroyed by the weight of all that had happened to him. She wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving him in the forest the day she met him. Two days ago she had brought him to Applejack’s farm, and for a fleeting moment he was at peace with himself and the world around him. His trust in her was growing, and her desire to rebuild him grew with it. Two days ago she suggested he leave. Tonight, she begged him to stay.

Twilight climbed into bed and an uneasy sleep.

6 - The Record

Simon couldn’t sleep.

He hated being scared. He hated feeling weak. He hated feeling stupid.

He got out of bed and walked around the room. He knew every inch of it in the dark.

He’d never properly thanked Twilight Sparkle for letting him into her home.

He climbed the stairs. He crossed the room, sat on the desk, and brushed aside the books and papers that littered it. He took a fresh scrap and wrote:

Euclid

He stared at the name of the great mathematician. He wrote out his proof that the square root of two is irrational. Euclid proved that the square root of two is irrational, that there exist an infinite number of prime numbers and that there were only five solid shapes with sides of equal length: The tetrahedron, the cube, the octahedron, the dodecahedron, and the icosahedron. He wrote down these names. Euclid’s Elements influenced math and science for two thousand years. Yet next to nothing was known about the man himself. It was known he worked in Alexandria, during a period when the Egyptian city was the center of all learning in the Western world. When Euclid was born, and when he died were a mystery.

Beneath it, he wrote,

Isaac Newton (1642-1727)
Few men have changed the world so completely as Isaac Newton. While a student at Cambridge University - Not far from where Simon now sat - Newton conceived an immensely powerful concept: Calculus, the study of continuous functions and how they change. To calculate the volume of a sphere - a calculation which Archimedes had considered the crowning achievement of his remarkable career- was almost trivial using Newton’s calculus. Mathematics, physics, and engineering were revolutionized almost overnight by the work of the man.

Gauss (1777-1855)

Gauss’ career may be considered the high point of mathematics. It’s been said that the German mathematician was the last person to know all about the subject at the time. Before he was twenty years old, Gauss had proven that one cannot, using an unmarked compass and straightedge, construct a polygon with 17 equal sides, solving a problem that had puzzled mathematicians for 2,000 years. For Gauss, this was only the beginning of a career that would touch on almost every branch of mathematics.

Simon looked at all he wrote. He knew what he had to do.

Twilight Sparkle woke up earlier than usual. For Twilight, this meant she woke up before sunrise. She had a bad feeling that Simon would be deeply affected by Pinkie’s visit, and didn’t want to risk leaving him alone for too long.

Her ear twitched. She could hear the sound of a pen scratching on parchment. She went downstairs to investigate. What she found nearly made her scream.

Parchment was piled all about Simon’s desk, almost a foot high. Simon sat stoically, writing frantically. Twilight picked up a sheet:

50 States

Montgomery, Alabama
Helena, Montana
Juneau, Alaska
Lincoln, Nebraska
Phoenix, Arizona
Carson City, Nevada
Little Rock, Arkansas
Concord, New Hampshire
Sacramento, California
Trenton, New Jersey
Denver, Colorado
Santa Fe, New Mexico
Hartford, Connecticut
Albany, New York
Dover, Delaware
Raleigh, North Carolina
Tallahassee, Florida
Bismarck, North Dakota
Atlanta, Georgia
Columbus, Ohio
Honolulu, Hawaii
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
Boise, Idaho
Salem, Oregon
Springfield, Illinois
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
Indianapolis, Indiana
Providence, Rhode Island
Des Moines, Iowa
Columbia, South Carolina
Topeka, Kansas
Pierre, South Dakota
Frankfort, Kentucky
Nashville, Tennessee
Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Austin, Texas
Augusta, Maine
Salt Lake City, Utah
Annapolis, Maryland
Montpelier, Vermont
Boston, Massachusetts
Richmond, Virginia
Lansing, Michigan
Olympia, Washington
Saint Paul, Minnesota
Charleston, West Virginia
Jackson, Mississippi
Madison, Wisconsin
Jefferson City, Missouri
Cheyenne, Wyoming

“What are you doing?”

I’m writing down everything

“Everything?” she asked flatly.

Everything I know

Twilight sighed and turned. She heard a crash and turned right back.

Simon lay helpless on the floor.

“We need to get you some meat” she told him.

Author's Note

THE FORMATTING! IT HURTS! Will fix soon.

First of all, I have had a long, arduous Saturday. I was supposed to get Admari to edit for me today, but I worked too late in the day on a group project and he wasn't able to go over this chapter, but I said, "to Hell with it! It's 90% done! "
So, yeah, if you think this chapter has problems, it's probably because it does.

As usual, thanks to Hustlin Tom for putting up with me and giving me unreasonable amounts of praise in order to keep me going.

This chapter is definitely on the "REVISE SOON" pile. For example, I seriously doubt Simon knows all 50 states, and I wanted him to mistake Chicago for the capitol of Illinois. But I can't put in just one deliberate mistake, or else everyone will just assume it was a mistake. The art of making mistakes is a fine one, and I'm too grumpy at the moment to do it, but too impatient to hold off publishing till it's done. I'll be the first to tell you this is an awful work ethic.

Thanks to you, readers, for you likes and comments. Comments make me feel good.

Three Months of Winter Coolness : Part Three of Five

7 - The Fish

On a frozen lake on the outskirts of Ponyville, the last human, descendant of kings and emperors and conquerors, sat on a three-legged wooden stool he’d borrowed from Twilight Sparkle, holding a fishing rod he’d borrowed from Fluttershy, through a tiny hole in the ice he’d made with a pick borrowed from Applejack.

For the first time in his life, he was ice-fishing. The flat surface of the frozen lake afforded him no protection from the frigid wind; he grimaced as it whipped across his face. He buried his face deep into the lining of his coat.

He was intensely focused on remembering everything he could:

...

The Titanic

The Roman Empire

Yuri Gagarin

Alan Turing

The War of 1812

Napoleon

...
He couldn’t stop the flow of information now that it had been started. He tapped his foot impatiently and thought of packing up and returning to the library to write some more. His stomach rumbled. He had to catch a fish if he was to remain healthy enough to complete his task. He tried to distract himself by looking around. He looked about him and saw trees and hills and ice and snow. He looked above him and saw a troupe of Pegasus ponies shuffling a herd of cumulus towards Ponyville. He tapped his other foot nervously. He wondered to himself how he’d managed to come to this strange world. He thought back to his astronaut training, then further back to his working days, his University days, and to his days as a carefree youth. Then he went over it again:

Simon was born April 12, 2061, in New York City, New York. He grew up in his parents’ spacious apartment on Park Avenue.

He was, if nothing else, an inquisitive child. One of his earliest memories was of approaching his mother and asking,
“What does ‘mean’ mean?”
He couldn’t remember his mother’s answer.

He wasn’t a perfect child. When he first entered public school, he did poorly and did not get along well with other children. With a great deal of help from both his parents and his teachers, Simon was able to mostly overcome these barriers and emerge as a bright, if awkward, young boy.

One of his fondest early memories was a night sometime before he was ten years old: His parents got him dressed up, and the three of them went to the Shubert Theatre to see a revival of Chicago. He fidgeted in his seat and talked impatiently, until the lights went out. A hush came over the audience, and something intangible filled the air. The curtain lifted. The show began. He was glued to his seat for the entire performance. The music, the choreography, the lighting, the costumes, all captured his attention and imagination. He didn’t talk about anything but the show for days afterwards.

From that day forth, he leapt at every opportunity to see another musical. He found he preferred the older musicals, all the way back to Gilbert and Sullivan operettas. He learned the lyrics to some of his favourite songs, and sang them constantly. Despite his fascination with the theatre, he showed no interest in performing himself.

When he was eleven years old, his parents gave him a gift: Mimi, a black standard poodle. He was responsible for walking and feeding the dog. Mimi was a beautiful, energetic, playful dog. She was also very smart: When she wanted something, she would scratch the door to his room, only once, slowly. Then she would wait. He went silent, unable to do anything but listen for another scratch at the door. When it didn’t come, he would begin to relax. At that precise moment, Mimi would drag her nails across the door again. His nerves could not bear it for very long, and Mimi usually got what she wanted promptly.

In high school, he decided on a whim to take computer science. He was amused by the sheer power he could exert over the machine using his mind and his fingers. One of the first tasks he was given was to find all prime numbers less than a given number. His first solution was to test each number to see if it was prime. He quickly found that to find all prime numbers less than one million using this method was impractical. After doing some research, he found a technique called the Sieve of Eratosthenes, which instead uses all the known prime numbers, starting with two, to eliminate candidates by removing multiples of the known prime numbers from the range to be searched.

In this way, he discovered the joy of mathematics for its own sake. He solved puzzles and read volumes about math and mathematical history. He learned how to program. He took courses in algebra and calculus, easily earning stellar grades. When high school was over, he chose to pursue a career in mathematics. He’d planned to become a doctor of the subject and teach.

He moved to New Jersey to go to University, returning frequently to see his parents. He brought Mimi with him.

While at University, he met Max. He gripped his pole tightly at the thought of Max. There wasn’t much to their friendship. They would talk for hours about mathematics, though they never seemed to achieve anything. Max was much less inhibited than Simon. Whereas Simon had trouble so much as knocking on a door, Max had no trouble barging in without invitation. In graduate school the two shared a house together. Simon would often lock the door to his room to prevent such unwelcome visits. One night, in fall, he had forgotten to lock the door, or perhaps he was in a more receptive mood. He hoped the latter, but suspected the former. He was poring over a variant of the Riemann Zeta Function, and was juggling various complex numbers and functions in his head. Max barreled into the room, and said, simply,

“Let N be a natural number”

Suddenly, all the real, imaginary and complex equations delicately balanced in Simon’s head were replaced, by a single, arbitrary, natural number, N. He turned on his roommate furiously.

“What about N?”

Max stared for a while.

“...prove N is even”

Simon threw his pencil at Max’s chubby chest and stamped his foot. Mimi, who was asleep in the corner of the room, awoke with a start.

“Look, Max, I’m trying to do important work here. Stop wasting my time”

Max leaned over Simon’s paper, and examined it very slowly. Simon wriggled impatiently in his seat.

“That won’t work” said Max.

“What won’t work?”

Max pointed to a line in Simon’s proof: A simple derivative of a function.

“It won’t work. That function’s not holomorphic”

Simon had had enough with Max’s distracting nonsense.

“Of course it’s holomorphic, Max! We proved it in lecture!”

“Was it Proof by intimidation?”

Simon opened his mouth to speak, until he remembered that the proof he’d been given in lecture had seemed complicated and strange. It was entirely possible a mistake had been made.

“Can you prove it?” Simon asked hopefully.

“Uhh...no?” Said Max, dumbly, and wandered out of the room.

The next night, it was Simon’s turn to barge into Max’s room.

“Max, I’m on the right track to proving that the function’s not holomorphic, but I need your help”

Max’s response was, “You can’t prove you’re on the right track!”

Two weeks the two men spent their evenings and weekends in the kitchen, tackling problem after problem. Simon felt a drive in him, one that came rarely before, and that gave him almost perfect control over his body. His bohemian lifestyle became organized and structured in an instant: He ate as much as his body needed, he slept as much as his body needed, and all pain and discomfort was easily ignored. It was like an adrenaline rush. In the end, Max and Simon had a twenty-page paper written, double-checked and bound. It passed scrutiny, was accepted, and Simon and Max were awarded Masters’ Degrees. Max celebrated by going to bed fifteen minutes later that night. Simon disappeared for three days; even he did not remember where he was.

Simon never published another paper. He racked his brain for ideas, to make connections between work people around him were producing; to extend their ideas a little further; but he seemed incapable of it. Eventually, he discovered that, while he was perfectly capable of understanding the complexities of the subject, his mind simply lacked capacity for generating novel ideas on his own. He stood on the shoulders of giants and saw as far as they, but no further.

In time, his thesis, once the pride of his life, was of little comfort because it wasn’t really his: Max had produced the idea behind it, and had put in half the work. He gave up, and moved to Boston, to work on their Quantum Computing program.

He started on his stool; he thought he’d gotten a bite. He yanked the pole backward to see if there was any resistance, but there was none. He looked in the direction of Ponyville. He saw the town’s windmill, and a few Pegasus ponies going about their business. He turned back to face the hole in the ice.

Neither he nor Max sought each other out after parting ways in New Jersey. The extra distance also made visiting his parents more difficult. He visited them every other weekend.

His period at the University in Boston was brief, but in that time, he was introduced to one of the most powerful uses of the most fundamental properties of nature. With a few assumptions about the properties of qbits, the concept of quantum teleportation - that information can be moved from one location to another without passing it between the intermediate space - is easy to understand and accept. He augmented what he already knew to the point that, within three years, he was able to find employment in one of the first companies to use quantum computers commercially. Though he wasn’t as good a programmer as the researchers in the university, he was valuable enough to the company that, by the time he left, his personal wealth was nearly two million dollars.

His mother died in that first year. He spent two weeks with his father, then returned to Boston.

Around this time, he began to hear whispers about a proposal from Houston, to send people on long-term trips to nearby planets. He welcomed the idea of the first real exploration since the Mars landings, which were before his time.

On March 9, 2086, his father died. He didn’t know what to do with himself after that: One night, about a month afterward, he got into his car, ready to drive to New York, until he realized he had no one to visit.

In May, Mimi needed surgery on her mouth. His dog of fifteen years had had nine teeth removed, and for the first time he noticed she was slowing down.

He tried to spend every possible moment with his ailing pet. He would arrive late to work and go home early. He was terse and irritable with everybody. He made mistakes.

Mimi was losing her eyesight, she was losing weight, and she would occasionally stand in one spot and stare at nothing. On some nights, he would wrap his arms around her and cry. He wondered what she knew about her own condition, and his.

Somehow, Mimi survived to early 2087. At last, the vet recommended he put her down. He agreed, but insisted on administering the injection himself.

As he thought about this, he looked at his hand, firmly grasping the fishing pole, and wondered how things would be if he had stayed it. He knew it would have made no difference.

He remembered wandering around his empty house when he got home from the vet. He shuddered.

People at work were upset at him. She was, after all, just a dog. He couldn’t look anybody in the eye anymore. He wanted nothing more than to disappear into the metalwork.

That year, after much ethical debate, Houston announced that they were to proceed with their manned missions. They had selected 75 potential planets to visit, and wanted individuals from all branches of science to man them.

He quit his job, sold his house, and drove to Houston, with no expectations about succeeding. He was, after all, a wreck of a man, intelligent, yes, but lacking the greatness necessary for such a monumental undertaking.

He remembered sitting in a clean, bright room at Johnson Space Center, dressed in a suit and tie, waiting to be interviewed. The air conditioning rattled. He looked around at everyone else in the room, all their faces stoic, all their qualifications menacing. He nearly left out of fear.

He was surprised by the first questions they asked him:
“Are you married?”
“Do you have a family?”
“Do you have any dependents whatsoever?”

He was even more surprised when the answers he gave elicited a positive response from the interviewer.

By the time he sat on his stool outside Ponyville, he had understood why this was so: He was perfect for the undertaking, being a loner, and intelligent enough to do the job they wanted, while not being so intelligent that he would be of more use on Earth.

He saw the painful reason behind this, and bore no resentment towards the people who had cast him away.

While training for his mission, he met the Artificial Intelligence unit who was to join him on his mission. At first, Simon had mistaken the abbreviation, “AI” for the letters “Al”. Whenever anyone asked, he told them he had named Al after the pioneering computer scientist, Alan Turing.

Al reminded Simon of Max, albeit with better social skills. While going over mission routines, Simon would spend his break times talking to Al about science, technology, math, and what little he knew about film and theatre. He suspected his superiors had been hoping he’d be content with just Al for company.

The day finally came to enter his spacecraft, and leave Earth for 150 years. The last person he’d seen in the flesh had been the technician that had closed the craft’s door. He didn’t know the man’s name, and the only word he’d ever spoken to him was, “Thanks”

He thought of all the people who had touched his life in ways large and small. People he’d gone to school with. People he’d gone to work with. People he’d seen every day, but had never spoken to. He missed them all.

His line went taught. He leapt from his stool, knocking it over. The spool of line unwound quickly. He stared at it. Just before the spool ran out, it slowed down. Simon reeled it in slowly. The fish, half a mile away struggled and fought. He gave it a little line, then drew in further. He repeated this process until the fish was frothing the surface of the water at the hole of the ice. It was too wide to fit. He reached down into the icy water and snatched the fish by it’s tail. With a final, violent tug, the fish was yanked from the ice. It still wriggled, but the fight was won. It was as long as his forearm. His finger bled; The fish’s spine had stabbed him.

Simon looked into it’s expressionless eyes, one little fish to another.
I’m sorry he said silently.

At the edge of the lake, he built a small fire. He scraped and picked and gutted and cleaned the corpse of his catch. He was left with enough meat to fit into his small frying pan. The smell was awful, and he burned the meat. It was chewy and foul-tasting, and he didn’t keep it all down.

8 - Rainbow Dash

Eratosthenes was a Greek mathematician who was the first to calculate the circumference of the Earth. His method was quite unique and interesting. According to legend, Eratosthenes learned that, on the solstice in the city of Syene, the Sun shone directly overhead, meaning the Sun’s rays met the Earth’s surface at a 180-degree angle. At the same time

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. He stood, crossed the library and opened it. There was a blue pony at the door. Blue, with a mane of many colours. He recognized her as one of the ponies he’d seen the day he’d met Twilight.

“Hey, Simon. Twilight home?”
He shook his head after a short pause.
“Know where she is?”
No.
“OK. Take it easy” She leapt into the air and flew away.
Simon closed the door and returned to his work. He picked up where he left off without missing a beat.
in the city of Alexandria, the Sun’s rays met the Earth at an angle of 173 degrees. Using simple geometry he was able to show that

9 - Rarity

the locations of Alexandria and Syene were on a 7-degree angle from the centre of the Earth. Using the fact that Alexandria was precisely due north of

Simon was interrupted again by a knock at the door. He shuddered slightly in frustration, and did not get up right away to answer. He heard the door open behind him, and stood up immediately.There was a white pony at the door. A white unicorn, in fact. A white unicorn with a purple mane. A white unicorn with a purple mane, styled with a distinctive swirl. Her eyes were a very deep blue. She wore pale-blue eye-liner, tastefully applied. Her neck and back were straight. She looked dignified and poised. Without thinking, Simon straightened his own hunched back on seeing her. She wore a well-fitted blue wool parka. Her hood was down.
“Why hello, Simon. It’s good to see you up and about. Is Twilight home?”
Simon shook his head slowly.
“Oh. Have you any idea where she might be?”
Simon shook his head again. He had no idea.
“Oh, well. Thank you, anyway. Take care”
She began to walk away, with a practised stride that appeared elegant even in the snow. He gave a loud cough. She stopped.
“Yes?” she asked patiently.
He turned to his desk and wrote something on a piece of paper.
He walked to her and held it out. He quickly let go when she took hold of it with her magic. He saw her Cutie Mark: Three diamonds.
It read, who are you?

She looked up from the paper and gave him a mirthful smile. She spoke with great self-assuredness and theatricality.
“Oh, how thoughtless of me! I am Rarity. I am Ponyville’s resident fashionista. I live and work at Carousel Boutique!”
A silence ensued. Rarity turned to leave.
“Feel free to come by any time, darling!”
He smiled. He watched her walking away down the shoveled path. She walked with a distinctive air about her: She held her head high, she kept her back straight, and she lifted her hooves high off the ground. He thought she looked quite regal and dignified. When she was out of sight, he closed the door gently and walked back to his desk. He stared at the paper for a full minute: He’d forgotten what he was doing.

Author's Note

As you can tell, Rainbow Dash is going to play a HUGE role in this story.

Once again, I didn't have a full editing session for this one. Hopefully I'll be able to get something better arranged with Admari.

The reason this one came out so quickly is I'd been working on it at the same time as the last chapter.

This chapter is basically a big "screw you" to the "Show, don't tell" rule. I hope nobody dies of Exposition Exposure here...

Three Months of Winter Coolness: Part Four of Five

10 - Human Nature

Twilight Sparkle arrived home to the now-familiar sight of Simon at his desk. He looked up when she entered and beckoned her.

“Need something?” She asked him.

Rarity came by looking for you. I told her I didn’t know where you were

“So you’ve met Rarity?”

Yes. She’s nice

He finished the page he was working on, and casually brushed it off the desk, letting it fall to the heap below. Twilight stamped her hoof.

“Simon! Haven’t you been organizing any of that?”

Without turning, he shook his head. Twilight’s eyes narrowed. She tapped his back. He spun around on his stool.

Her ears flattened, “You’re not making a mess of my library.” she growled and leaned in towards him. Simon leaned back and away from her. Her horn lit. The papers surrounding his desk lifted into the air.

“I’ll start organizing these,” she said cheerfully. She trotted upstairs with the papers, leaving Simon, still rigidly leaning backwards, his hands gripping the bottom of the stool.

Spike opened his heavy eyes and rolled over in his basket with a low groan. Through his blurry vision he saw Twilight lying down on the floor, surrounded by a flurry of sheets of parchment.

“History… Math… Culture… Math… Math… History… Hmmm…. Math,” she said aloud as she sorted them into neat stacks.

“What’s going on?” He asked, slurring his words.

“I’m organizing everything Simon’s written so far. It’s all over the place. Math, science, history, music...”

Spike slumped over and fell asleep again.

He was awoken by a forceful nudge from Twilight. She was levitating a sheet in front of her.

“Spike! Listen to this! It’s amazing!”

Spike groaned, but sat up. His blanket draped over him.

Ernest Shackleton’s Antarctic Expedition set out for the south pole in 1914. The goal of the expedition was to cross the Antarctic Continent for the first time.

The Expedition consisted of 28 men aboard the Endurance. Her crew consisted of British and Commonwealth sailors. She last made port at the Dutch whaling station at South Georgia Island before heading for the Weddell Sea.

The 1914 Antarctic season had some of the worst ice conditions on record, and navigating the Weddell Sea proved difficult. By the end of 1914, the Endurance was locked in the ice. The crew prepared to spend the winter aboard the ship until the ice broke up. For months, the ship and crew did not move. The men kept busy performing scientific experiments, attending to their shipboard duties, singing songs and putting on shows for each other.

As the ice began to melt, the ocean currents forced the ice against Endurance’s hull; the ship was being crushed. Shackleton moved the crew off the ship. The Endurance sank not long after. Shackleton and his men were stranded on melting sea ice with three life boats. The ocean was miles away from where they stood. The crew dragged the lifeboats over the ice and to the ocean, where they rowed for several days, reaching the uninhabited Elephant Island. They were now hundreds of miles from their planned route; no rescue party would look for them on Elephant Island.

Shackleton and five others set sail for South Georgia Island aboard the lifeboat, “James Caird”. The distance was 800 miles, and required an unprecedented degree of navigational accuracy, using only rudimentary equipment. The lifeboat reached South Georgia, but the crew could not sail her to the whaling station. Shackleton and two others crossed the largely uncharted island on foot to reach the whaling station. It took four months to reach Elephant Island. No crew members were lost.

Spike listened intently to the whole story, “Wow. That is amazing.”

Twilight beamed. “It sounds like humans did a good job of looking after one another!”

“You mean like Harmony?”

“I think so”

Spike watched Twilight dig through more papers, hoping to hear another exciting story.

She read one. Her smile disappeared.

“What is it, Twilight?”

She told him.

The First World War began in 1914 and ended in 1918. It is the single most important event of the 20th century.

The war was a result of an array of factors. First was the tension between Serbia and Austro-Hungary.

Second was an assortment of alliances between European powers: Serbia had a treaty with Russia to aid in the event of conflict. France had agreed to assist Russia, and Britain had agreed to assist Belgium.

Austro-Hungary was allied with Germany.

Third was the assassination of Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand by Serbian extremists. This began the war between Austro-Hungary and Serbia. Germany declared war on Serbia, Russia and France declared war on Germany. As Germany invaded France by passing through Belgium, Britain declared war on Germany as well. These nations, and their colonies spread across the world, were plunged into war with one another.

In 1917, the United States declared war on Germany following the sinking of the Lusitania.

The war changed the balance of power in Europe, and started the rise of both the U.S.A. and U.S.S.R. to dominating economic superpowers. European influence on nations colonized by European powers was reduced.

In the most general sense, WWI changed the nature of international conflict. Prior to WWI, even major wars were fought on a relatively small scale. WWI has been described as “War on an industrial scale” because technology such as airplanes, weapons, and ships were manufactured with the efficiency and quantity of mass-produced products borne of the Industrial Revolution. Consequently, men were enlisted on an industrial scale as well. Very few families lived through the war without sending at least one member to fight in the war.

Casualty figures vary greatly, but a reasonable estimate is that 30 million people were killed or wounded as a result of the conflict.

Spike and Twilight were silent for a long time.

“1914. That was the same year the Shackleton expedition began” said Twilight.

“But Shackleton was a good person. How could everybody else do something so...bad?” Asked Spike.

“I don’t know. What do you think it means?” Said Twilight.

“Maybe people can do great good and great evil?” Said Spike.

“Do you think maybe it depends on the person?” Said Twilight.

“Maybe.” mused Spike.

“Those treaties all those countries signed. The people in those countries didn’t want to fight each other. They were just obeying the treaties. It’s like they pretended they were friends when they really weren’t. Remember when I told you false friendship was dangerous? I think this is like that.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said it was dangerous,” said Spike, and after a pause, continued, “So, humans are pretty...something”

“Yeah, Spike. Pretty something.”

With heavy trods Twilight Sparkle descended the stairs. Simon’s work, fully organized, followed her. Rarity and Simon were scouring bookshelves.

“Hi, Rarity. I didn’t hear you come in.” Twilight announced her presence.

Simon didn’t turn away from his task.

“Twilight! It’s good to see you! Simon was just helping me find some books about Princess Platinum. Isn’t he a sweetheart?”

Simon rose from an awkward crouch to the tips of his toes. Twilight smiled.

“Yes, he is,” she said, “But all the books about the founders of Equestria are over here.”

Twilight levitated a stack of books from the shelves near the stairs. At the other side of the room, Simon finally turned away from the shelves he was checking and buried his face in his hands. He made his way back to his desk and sat down.

Rarity flipped through one of the books, “As I was telling Simon, I’m going to make my own gown for the Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant, and I wanted an historical reference.”

“I can’t wait to see it!”

“Will you be bringing Spike?”

“He’ll be there.”

“And how about you, Simon. Will you be going?” She turned to him and asked.

Twilight opened her mouth to speak for him, but stopped when Simon nodded rapidly, and gave Twilight a broad, almost giddy smile.

“You will?” she deadpanned.

He nodded again.

“Come now, Twilight, dear. Don’t act surprised! I promise you won’t be disappointed, Simon.” Rarity strutted towards the door, “ Now, I must be off. See you at the pageant!”

Simon waved goodbye and watched the white unicorn leave. Twilight approached him.

“I’m glad to see you getting along with Rarity.”

He smiled and looked down to his feet.

“You want to go to the pageant? Why?”

Simon shrugged.

I love live theater

She looked at him. He’d never used the word “Love” before.

“You’re pretty something,” she said, and left him confused.

11 - Hearth’s Warming Eve

“Simon!” Twilight called cheerfully, “It’s time for the pageant!”

He put his quill down, and stood up to face the unicorn descending the stairs. She was wearing boots, a saddle and a scarf. She looked at him, and said with mock-seriousness, “We’re not going until you’ve washed up”

Simon rolled his eyes and walked to the basement door.

Spike rode Twilight to the see the Pageant. Even though Twilight wore a saddle, Simon observed that Spike didn’t use it; instead, he sat behind her head and wrapped his arms around her neck. Simon wrapped his arms around himself; he was cold.

The three of them were joined by Fluttershy. Simon didn’t know where the pageant was being held, and was surprised when they arrived at Sweet Apple Acres and proceeded into Applejack’s barn.

“It looks like the whole of Ponyville showed up!” Twilight observed.

“It probably is the whole of Ponyville. I don’t like it very much. It’s so… crowded,” Fluttershy muttered.

Twilight entered the barn. Simon passed Fluttershy, who hesitated and then followed them in.

The barn was made up with rows of piles of hay, which the ponies sat on, facing a faded and patchy curtain hung on a string. Twilight led the group up the rows to near the centre of the building, and picked out a string of adjacent seats near the centre. Simon passed in front of a barn filled with ponies. When he arrived at his seat, instead of sitting down, he looked out into the crowd behind him. They all looked at the curtain, or at each other in conversation. They seemed to look through him. The few that noticed him appeared to forget about him right away. He felt invisible; he felt strange.

“What is it?” Twilight asked.

Simon looked out into the throng again, then looked back to Twilight, and shook his head.

He sat down between Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy, who were resting comfortably on their haunches. He felt his back crack as he lowered himself to the floor. He crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his palms.

Fluttershy ruffled her wings. He looked at them closely. He watched the minute motions of their muscles. He reached out, and stroked the thick flight feathers. He gently grasped the tip of her wing, and extended it to look underneath it.

He was struck in the ribs on his other side. He let go of Fluttershy’s wing. He turned to Twilight Sparkle, who was frowning severely and shaking her head. He looked back to Fluttershy, who was quivering and looking away from him.

Simon buried his face in his hands, like a chastised child. His face felt hot. He wanted to leave the building. His stomach started to clench.

He looked again to Twilight, who turned away. He looked to Fluttershy, who looked straight ahead. He leaned closely to her, grasped his throat, and with a very quiet gargle said,
“I’m sorry.”

Fluttershy perked up at the sound of hearing him speak, gave him a big smile.

“I forgive you,” she said almost as quietly.

He smiled, but his joy soon gave way to the pain in his throat from speaking these two words. He fell into a fit of rough, painful coughing. A hoof rested on his shoulder until he stopped.

The lights dimmed not long after, and the curtain was raised.

“Once upon a time, long before the peaceful rule of Celestia, and before ponies discovered our beautiful land of Equestria…” began a small white pony. Her voice quavered with self-awareness.

“...Ponies did not know Harmony. It was a strange and dark time. A time when ponies were torn apart… by hatred!”

The audience gave out a frightful gasp. Simon was startled and looked around to see what the trouble was. There was none. He was very confused.

“During this frightful age, each of the two-THREE! tribes, the Pegasi, the Unicorns and the Pegasi...I mean, Earth Ponies! cared not for what befell the other tribes, but only for their own welf… welf-are.”

Simon's suspension of disbelief was broken by the foal narrating the play, who continuously stumbled over her lines and showed every sign of stage fright. He wished there was a better pony for the job. She was a young Unicorn - as young as Applebloom. She was white, with hair that was half purple, half pink, and pale green eyes. Her voice cracked.

The ponies silently acted out the roles of the three tribes: Pegasus ponies controlled the weather, in exchange for food from the Earth ponies, who also traded with the Unicorns in exchange for raising the sun and moon.

Being reminded of the roles of the Unicorns in the motion of the Sun and Moon, he had to hold his breath. Twilight leaned in and whispered, “Are you going to be okay?”

Simon closed his eyes and in a moment the feeling passed. He nodded.

Simon watched the ponies’ land become buried in snow, from a sudden, intense blizzard. They ran out of food. Each of the three tribes independently elected to abandon their land, and seek out a new home.

Echoes of familiarity were reverberating in his mind. Something about the story was reminding him of something else. He thought about Al.

Upon finding the ideal place, the three tribes again squabbled over petty differences. Snow began to fall. Clover the Clever discovered that it was evil Wendigoes who were causing all the snow.

Trapped in an icy cave, Clover, Smart Cookie and Private Pansy decided to face their doom together, as ponies. Something happened to drive away the Wendigoes, and Equestria was saved. Simon wasn’t sure what they did to drive them away.

“The three leaders agreed to share the beautiful land, and live in Harmony for ever afterwards. And together, they named the new land…”

“Equestria!” The entire cast shouted.

At last, the whole crowd stood and sang,

The fire of friendship lives in our hearts
As long as it burns we cannot drift apart
Though quarrels arise, their numbers are few
Laughter and singing will see us through
We are a circle of pony friends
A circle of friends we’ll be to the very end

A great cheer went up from the town of Ponyville, and the curtain dropped.

With the end of the song came also the end of the play. The ponies, standing now, stretched and filed out of the barn.

“What did you think, Simon?” asked Twilight.

He hadn’t decided. He was still staring at the stage. His knees had moved up to his chin. He rocked back and forth.

“Simon? Are you okay?” Asked Twilight.

He seemed not to hear her. The barn was almost empty.

Without warning, he shot up to his feet and was hurrying out the door.

12 - The After Party

After the pageant was over, Twilight and her friends were invited to an after party, hosted by Pinkie Pie after hours at Sugarcube Corner. There was cake, ice cream, games, punch and all the staples of Pinkie’s parties.

Sweetie Belle and Rarity were still in their pageant costumes.

Simon sat in a booth in a quiet corner of the room, musing about the play he’d just seen.

Twilight wandered to Simon’s table to bring him some cake. He replied with a piece of paper that read,

They came from Scotland. Al told me Scotland had frozen over while I was gone. It lines up with the play.

Twilight was underwhelmed by the information Simon had presented her, “I don’t know what that means,” she told him soberly.

Me neither, but it’s true.

Twilight didn’t know what to say. He presented her with another sheet:

How did they get rid of the Wendigoes, and how did they get out of the cave?

Twilight raised her eyebrows, “The three ponies settled their differences and became friends.”

Simon raised his eyebrows back at her, Friendship and Harmony. Those were major themes of the story.

“Of course! Friendship is the most powerful thing we have, and through it we achieve Harmony and make Equestria what it is!”

Simon’s face did not change.

Is it a traditional cultural belief, or is it more like a superstition?

“Neither! It’s true!”

Simon and Twilight stared at each other in silence.

On the other side of the room, Rarity walked towards the punch table with her nose high in the air. Pinkie Pie leapt in front of her from somewhere.

“Say, Rarity, did you step in something?” she asked seriously.

Rarity turned around and looked down. Hoof-prints stalked her and snaked all around the room.

“Oh, no!” she said in a panicked tone, “Is it on the dress? IS IT ON THE DRESS?!”

With her magic, she lifted the dress and flipped it over to inspect the back. The white edge of the dress was pristine. She heard a snicker above her, and Rainbow Dash, hooves dripping with ink, descended and hoof-bumped her pink partner. The two rolled on the ground in hysterics.

“Very funny,” said Rarity flatly, and sulked away.

“What do we do now?” asked Rainbow Dash.

Pinkie Pie saw Twilight and Simon, alone in a booth in the corner of the party. She leaned close to Rainbow Dash, and whispered her plan. A devious grin formed on Rainbow’s mouth, and she launched herself into the rafters.

Twilight couldn’t answer Simon’s questions.

“You know what I think? We’re here with our friends. Let’s just have some fun.”

Simon surveyed the scene. Applejack and Fluttershy were in conversation. Spike was helping himself to some punch. Pinkie Pie was laughing at something, and Rarity was heading their way.

He turned back to his parchment, put his pen to it, and hesitated. A heavy silence broke his concentration. He heard stifled laughter above him. He looked up. Rainbow Dash was hovering, no more than a foot above him, holding in her mouth a green branch.

“Look who’s under the mistletoe!” Pinkie exclaimed.

He looked at Twilight, who was also becoming aware of what had happened. Her face turned bright red. “Do you know what that means, Simon?” she asked.

Without thinking, Simon nodded. He looked around again. Applejack was holding her hat in front of her face, making a genuine attempt to hide her glee, Spike was gaping and looking directly at Twilight. Fluttershy seemed almost concerned by the distress the two were experiencing, and Pinkie was bouncing three times her standing height, emitting a constant, high-pitched squeal. He tried to return his attention to his parchment, but Rainbow Dash tapped him on the shoulder before he had a chance to get his thoughts back on track. Simon gave her a mildly irritated look, which she answered by pointing very deliberately at Twilight. Rainbow Dash was snickering now. Simon realized where he was in the situation at hand. His face felt hot.

Rarity had come up from behind Twilight and nudged her with her horn. “Well, go on. It’s tradition!”

Twilight moved closer to Simon. He gripped the bottom of the chair tightly, and planted his feet on the ground as though he was making to stand up.

Twilight was having trouble making eye contact. “Ready, Simon?”

Simon swallowed. His mouth became very dry. He nodded.

From Pinkie Pie there came a quiet, energetic “Yay!” She looked like she was about to go off like a rocket.

Twilight closed her eyes and leaned forward. Simon leaned back. Twilight was opening her eyes to see where he was when he quickly snapped forward.

Their lips never met. He felt his nose touch hers, and they both made a loud smooching sound. They immediately turned away.

The room erupted in laughter.

Twilight carried her dragon home. Arms wrapped tightly around her neck, Spike was almost asleep. Her human followed her.

They arrived at their quiet home. Her human opened the door for her. She went in. He followed her in, but was nearly hit in the forehead by dangling mistletoe. Whether it had come from Pinkie Pie, or Rainbow Dash, or some other pony or thing, he couldn’t say. Twilight and Simon were under it for the second time that night.

Simon shook his head, tore the plant from its string, and tossed it out into the cold.

Edited by Admari
Various assistance by Hustlin Tom

Author's Note

STOP! Take your cursor off the "un-favourite" button!

Be calm. I know what I'm doing. It was just Pinkie Pie playing a prank. Nothing more.

I have a really lousy work ethic; I probably could have knocked this out in a day, but somehow I managed to stretch it out to Three Months...of Winter CRAPPY.

I HATE WINTER! I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT!

But it's over now! Life has returned to the Earth! There is Life! Life is capable of being good again simply by being!

Go outside and BE THANKFUL!

Three Months of Winter Coolness: Part Five of Five

13 - The Zebra and The Princess

Sweat ran down Simon’s face as he tore a foot-long fish out of a hole in the ice. He slammed his catch into his pail, and sat on it until the frantic movement died down. Simon cringed and panted. He’d been fighting with the fish for five minutes, and before that, he’d waited more than an hour for a bite, and he was exhausted. Surprisingly, he was warm. He unzipped his coat, and pulled his arms out of the sleeves, letting the garment rest on his shoulders.

It was early March, Simon realized. It was natural that the weather was to warm up. The hole he’d fished out of was easier to carve than ever. On that thought, he decided to get off the ice. He tried not to look down at the pail as he gathered his things.

He set one foot down on the path he’d taken across the lake, and heard a tiny, almost inaudible crunch.

And he was very scared. He withdrew his foot and looked down. The ice was cracked. The freezing water underneath was a menacing black. He knelt down to his knees, placed his palm on the spot, and pushed down. His hand went through to the stinging, icy water below.

He stood up and twisted himself around, looking for an indication for what he should do. There was none, only untested ice blanketed in snow. He thought, and thought, and thought, and found no answers, until a spot of colour caught his eye. It was a Pegasus pony from Ponyville, passing directly overhead. He waved his arms frantically. The Pegasus didn’t notice him, and went about his business. Simon tried shouting, but only managed a weak shriek that seared his throat with pain.

The sun was getting higher in the sky; the day was getting warmer. He’d started out just after sunrise, the coldest part of the day. Simon’s stomach hurt. He looked around one last time, and saw a stretch of snow that appeared thicker than the rest. He dropped his gear, and raced over his fishing-spot. His body was trembling. He lifted his foot and paused. He counted to three.
One. Two…

“Do not take another step! Calm yourself. Take a breath!” came a commanding voice.

He looked up and found a cloaked figure standing on the edge of the lake. It lowered it’s hood to reveal an Equine face, marked with black and white stripes, and a mane styled into a thick mohawk.

“Do not move from where you stand! I will get you back on land!”

She traipsed her way along the edge of the lake. She looked down pensively at the ice and, after a great deal of thought, set her hoof onto it. She eyed the glassy surface carefully and worked out a path that wound around him, sometimes bringing her closer, sometimes taking her farther away. Simon began to feel cold again, and put his arms back through the sleeves of his jacket. After about five minutes, she was standing in front of him, smiling serenely.

“From the ice you wish to flee; I will guide you. Follow me”

She turned and began walking away from him. It took a few seconds for what she had said to register in Simon’s mind. When it did, he quickly gathered his gear and rushed to meet her.

The ice crunched with every step he took. It seemed every time he set his boot down, a pang of apprehension ran through him. He followed his companion so closely, whenever she stopped to consider which way to go, Simon would bump into her. His heart pounded, his breathing became rapid.

She turned on him, and said with authority,

“I must be calm to find the path
That keeps us from the water’s wrath
If you panic, we’re sure to drown
If you want to live, you must calm down”

She did not turn away; instead she continued to squint at him. The ice under them creaked. It was all Simon could do to not bolt off. He caught a breath, and forced himself to hold it. He closed his eyes. He counted to seventeen. His muscles eased, and his shaking lessened.

His guide nodded, and continued on her way. He walked on with a strict rhythm. No matter how uncertain he was of the next step, he forced himself to take it, and no matter how uncertain he was of where he stood, he forced himself to linger. He maintained a healthy distance from his guide, and he gave her all the time she needed to think. He trusted her completely.

After what felt like hours, they reached the edge of the lake. Simon stepped over the threshold of the lake, and was on solid ground. He toppled over into the soft snow. He panted. He lay there, face down, for five minutes, and was still.

When he looked up, he saw his saviour looking down on him, serene and apparently untouched by all that had happened.

He lifted himself to his knees, and thanked her the only way he could: He wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed her tightly. His hands were still shaking.

“There's no need for thanks, if it's all the same.
Do tell me, though, what is your name?”

Simon looked around and, finding no better way, stuck his finger into the snow and traced out his name in large, shaky letters. She read them and smiled.

She said, with a courteous bow of the head and forelegs,
“Zecora is happy to greet a new friend
Don’t be ‘fraid to call on me; I’ve always time to lend”

Simon bowed his head in return. Her countenance abruptly turned to one of concern.

“Simon, child, you are cold and shaken
Come back to my home ‘till your senses awaken”

Zecora brought him to the Everfree Forest. He hadn’t been in the forest since his arrival, almost four months prior. She lived in a cozy hut along at the end of a path that was all but buried in snow. The hike through the forest was difficult, and Simon had to sit down once he was inside. There was a fire burning, and the air inside the hut was thick with exotic smells.

Zecora removed her cloak. Underneath, she wore elaborate jewelry that told Simon she was separate from the ponies of Ponyville culturally as well as physically.

“Hang your wet things above the fire
Sit close, be warm and drier”

For the first time, Simon took notice of Zecora’s peculiar manner of speaking.
Simon took off his outer layers, his boots, his socks, and his toque, and hung them on a string that stretched across the blazing fire. His shirt, pants and underthings were soaked through, but he did not take them off. He sat, knees to his chin, in front of the dancing flames.

Vapours rose from his soaked clothing. He focused on the fire, watching it intently. He rocked himself gently. He let his mind drift. He was taken back to the lake. He saw himself fall through the ice. He cringed and squeezed his legs tighter. He thought of Twilight, of Applejack, of Fluttershy and Rarity. He thought of his mother and father, of Max and Mimi. He thought of Shackleton, Galois, Gauss, Euler, von Neumann, and a dozen others. He saw their faces. He was in a broad and endless wasteland of ice, rock and snow. He soared above it. The vastness and emptiness of what he saw made him uneasy. The further he went, the less he could see, and the more he dreaded what he ventured toward. But he could not turn away; there was no where else.

He saw a sign on the ground. It whipped by him more quickly than he could hope to read, yet he read it. Something stopped the name on the sign from reaching his mouth. There was blackness all about him; there despair without the faintest glitter of hope. Simon was trapped in horrible, painful nothingness.

And then the dreary weight was lifted from him, and the darkness, without any change, lost all its harshness. At last, the word escaped him:

“Vigilant” he said softly. He met the sound of his own words with no surprise at all.

“Yes,” came another voice, just as soft, “that was the name”

At exactly the spot he was facing, something in the uniform blackness moved. A vague, unseen light seemed to shine upon it, revealing its outline and giving it depth. The shape moved toward him, and as it did, the blackness within it’s outline seemed to drain away, and it stood before him in living colour.

It was a pony. Her body was the darkest blue that could still be somehow gentle, like the blue of a full-moon night. Her long, slender legs brought her exactly eye-to-eye with him; she seemed to drown him with her gaze.

“What would I find there?” he asked without surprise, or fear, or curiosity towards the apparition.

“You will find darkness”

For the briefest of moments, his companion faded back into shadow, and again the blackness on all sides crushed in on him. The loneliness and hopelessness returned and smothered him. She re-appeared just as quickly and the darkness relented. Though he felt shaken to the core of his being, he felt no goosebumps, no tingling, no chill in his spine. He was not gasping for air. For the first time, he became aware that he couldn’t see the big nose between his eyes.

With one great stride, he moved himself beside his companion, determined to keep near to her.

He noticed her long horn, her wings, flat against her body, and her cutie mark: A crescent moon against a black sky.

“You must choose whether what you seek there is worth losing yourself to the darkness,” she said seriously.

“If I’m the last human, then I must do what I can to preserve their legacy. There’s nothing I can lose that’s more worthwhile.”

“Isn’t there?”

The blackness around them gave way to rough brown wood. He recognized where he was immediately. In the middle of the room, Twilight Sparkle sat frozen, hunched over a short bed.
In the bed, Simon saw his own thin, grizzled face.

“This is the night she found me,” he said aloud. He approached the tableaux, and circled around it.

He sat down across the bed from Twilight and looked at her. Her eyes, normally bright and alert, were red and heavy with fatigue. She looked at the sleeping Simon with uncertainty..

“She’s done so much for me,” he added with quiet awe. He reached out his hand to touch her muzzle, but it passed through her and she disappeared.

He stood up through a large wooden table. There he, Twilight Sparkle, and the Apple family were heaving a final collective sigh after a moment of wild laughter. The warmth, the comfort, the absolute perfection of that moment was one that Simon dearly wished could last forever.

Now he was keeled over in a fit of coughing during the Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant, and timid Fluttershy was beside him, placing a hoof gently on his back. A small comfort, but one that seemed to make a world of difference.

He was on his stool in the library. The pristine, white Rarity was inviting him to the pageant. His head seemed to hang limp from his shoulders, as though determined not to look at her, yet his smile was broad. Simon was happy at that moment, perhaps happy about the invitation.

“Are you sure you have nothing to lose?”

His companion was beside him again; they both watched the scene dissolve away.

“I don’t even know if I’m the last one.”

“Yes, you are.”

Simon turned to face her; she stared back with a serious look. Before he could say anything more, her face morphed into Zecora’s and he woke up.

“You’ve had about an hour’s rest,
Some food is probably for the best.”

Simon opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. Zecora bent her neck and nudged his pail toward him with her nose.

“You no doubt mean to eat this fish
It ought to make a mighty dish!”

He peered down into the pail. The dead fish looked up at him. Already he could taste the burned meat in his mouth, and he couldn’t keep his stomach from turning. He looked away.

“What’s this? Why the aversion?
Why else would you go on a fishing excursion?”

Simon dove for his bag and produced from it his tiny frying pan. He looked at her hopefully. She gazed back with her knowing eyes.

“I think I see the problem you face.
You need of meat, but you want of taste.”

He nodded his head vigorously.

“I may have ways of helping you.
Zecora knows a trick or two!”

She disappeared into the far corner of her hut. The room was too dim and smoky to see what she was doing, but he heard the tinkle of porcelain, and of something being ground. Meanwhile, he used his small knife to scrape the scales into the bucket. The warmth inside the hut was much better than cooking outside. He did his work slowly, and made sure he removed every scale. He placed his frying pan on the fire.

Zecora came back with a bowl of reddish powder in her mouth. She set it down in front of him.

“Sprinkle this, though just a pinch
and cooking your meal will be a cinch!”

Cautiously, he squeezed a little powder between his fingers and, when she nodded her approval to him, he scattered it onto as much of the fish as possible. He turned to the frying pan on the fire, and spat onto it. His spit sizzled and disappeared instantly. It was far hotter than he’d ever bothered to make it when working outside.

Moments after the fish touched the frying pan, the hut filled with the promising aroma of cooking meat. Within half an hour, both sides of the fish were flaky, and a beautiful shade of red.

He pulled the fish whole off the pan and after a moment to let it cool, bit into it. He spat a tiny bone into the pail. He chewed on it thoughtfully while Zecora watched.

He carefully put the fish down onto a wooden plate, stood, approached Zecora, and threw his arms around her in the tightest hug his arms could give.

They were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Simon loosened his grip on Zecora and sat back on the hard floor, feeling strangely self-conscious.

Zecora walked casually to the door and opened it. A bright, cheerful, pink voice filled the room.

“Hi, Zecora! I’m here to pick up Simon! Is he ready to go?”

At the door was Pinkie Pie.

“Ah, Pinkie! It’s been too long!
What brings you here? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Pinkie reached a hoof out and dragged Twilight into view.

“Twilight was wondering why Simon hadn’t come back from his fishing, and I told her he was here. And when she said she didn’t believe me, I offered to bring her here to show her and here we are! Hi Simon!”

She waved at him. He waved back weakly.

“Hi Zecora,” said Twilight, “I see you’ve met Simon.”

“Indeed, we’ve had a wonderful time.
I’ve never seen a creature of his kind”

“He’s my… he’s a human,” said Twilight.

Zecora nodded. She turned to Pinkie Pie.

“Pinkie, take Simon and start on home.
I must speak with Twilight alone.”

“Okey-day! C’mon, Simon!” she said, and cartwheeled out the door. Simon watched her go humourlessly and turned to Twilight Sparkle.

“Go on. Zecora and I have to talk.”

Simon plodded out the door.

“What is it, Zecora?”

Zecora laid down on her belly and gestured Twilight to do the same. The zebra’s normally pleasant demeanor became serious.

“In youth, our elders told stories of ages long past,
Of creatures who were not as strong and not so fast,
They had no magic, nor wings, nor skill with the land,
But they had great power, and they were called Man.”

“Guuuh?” was all Twilight could say. She stared at Zecora with her mouth open. Zecora shook her head sadly.

“If he is a man, then we’ve much to discuss,
How does this long-gone creature walk among us?”

Twilight shook the astonished expression off her face, “Well, I found him here. In the Everfree Forest.” she waved her hoof around, “He says he came here from outer space.” she waved her hoof toward the ceiling, “He left the Earth a long time ago. I met him the day after I met you.”

The zebra nodded, “I’ve heard it said, in these stories of ours, that Man could reach out and touch the stars.”

Twilight put her hoof to her chin, “But this is amazing. You know about humans!” She stood up, “Simon’s been struggling to find any mention of them since he arrived! I have to bring him back so you can tell him what you know!”

“No, Twilight Sparkle, this is not for him to hear,
For deep inside Simon, there may be something to fear.”

“What?” said Twilight, “No, that’s impossible. Not Simon. He’s harmless. He’s…”

The First World War, said the voice in her mind.

“... He’s… something,” she finished. Twilight laid down on the floor again, ready to listen.

“The humans were a violent lot,
Many lives lost, many wars fought,
But though each other they treated poorly,
The ‘lesser creatures’ were treated cruelly,
Zebras and ponies and other children of Creation,
Were all laid under the heel of man’s domination.”

Twilight’s face was pale. She thought about what she’d heard, and shook her head.

“No. I know Simon. He’s not evil.”

“To you, I know, he is no stranger,
Perhaps you can keep him from becoming a danger.”

With that, Twilight Sparkle rose silently, and left Zecora’s hut.

Princess Luna entered her sister’s chambers. The white Pony Princess was lying by the fireplace, looking into it thoughtfully.

“I have seen him, sister,” Luna began.

Celestia smiled warmly at the news. “What do you think of him?”

“The boy doesn’t know his own feelings.”

“But he does have them.”

“Yes. He cares very deeply for his Ponyville friends, when he remembers to think of them.”

“He’s definitely a human being, then,” said Celestia, and chuckled.

“How can you laugh at such things, after all that you’ve been through, after what you told me about…”

Celestia cut her off with a hoof, “Forgiveness, my dear sister. He is long gone, and he is not Simon. Simon has a soul. You know it to be so.”

Luna looked at her hooves, “I hope you’re right to trust him.”

“I have faith he will do what’s best for Twilight. After all, what’s best for Twilight is also for him.”

“He’s thinking of going to Vigilant.”

Celestia’s head shot up, and she stared at her sister with wide eyes.

“I hope he doesn’t act on those thoughts, for his sake, and for Twilight’s.”

14 - Twilight Sparkle

Twilight crept down the stairs. She knew her way well in the dark. She lowered her hoof a step, which met with a loud creak. She stopped, and listened. She sighed; she hadn’t been heard.
At the bottom of the stairs, the dim silhouette of Simon at his desk.
Twilight’s ear twitched. There was no doubt that Simon was humming.

It was quiet, and his voice broke occasionally, but he was definitely humming a simple tune.

“Simon!”

Simon jumped a little. He turned and looked at her, bewildered. An awkward silence ensued.

“You were humming!”

Simon raised his eyebrow and shook his head slowly.

“You were! I heard you!”

Simon looked into her eyes. He made a low grumbling sound deep within his throat. His voice shot up an octave and became a wild cacophony of scratchy, ugly noises. He stopped, and coughed violently.

Twilight’s ears drooped. She lifted a hoof and almost touched his knee.

“I’m sorry, Simon.”

Simon waved his hand and leaned back. He stretched his arms, but suddenly stopped and whirled around to write,

What was I humming?

Anxious to relieve the dashed hope she knew the human must be feeling, she struggled to remember the song she’d heard seconds before.

Hum it. Please

She did her best to get the notes right. Simon listened, and when she was done, wrote on a fresh sheet,

Lyrics:

and filled the sheet with words. Twilight took it with her magic. The words were short and simple. She hummed the tune again, trying to match it to the words.

Simon smiled and nodded. Twilight took a breath. Quietly, she sang,

”You are my sunshine.
My only sunshine.
You make me happy when skies are grey.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

She looked up over the sheet and saw Simon hunched over his desk. He was snoring quietly. She watched him for a moment. He was tranquil.

Her horn lit. A blanket and pillow appeared behind her. She gently lifted his head, slid the pillow under, and lowered it. She draped the blanket over him and, quietly as she could, she moved up to his sleeping face. She pressed her cheek against his and nuzzled him.

“Goodnight” she whispered into his ear, and quietly made her way to the stairs.

Edited by Admari
Emotional Support by Hustlin Tom

Author's Note

So I've had five chapters of mostly just bumbling around and doing things. It's time to get the plot going again, maybe.

Next chapter is called "Winter Wrap Up" and will resume the earlier chapters' tendency to overlap with the episodes in that totally-plausible way.

If I don't get any "D'AAAAW"s in the comments section, then I have failed.

Winter Wrap-Up

“Spike! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! It’s Winter Wrap-Up day!”

Spike was nudged awake by an overjoyed Twilight Sparkle.
Spike opened his weary eyes, and lifted his heavy head.
“Huh? Mommy?”
He turned and was nose-to-nose with Twilight.

“Winter Wrap-Up!” She told him sternly, and rushed away. Spike lowered his head to his pillow agan.

“You’re not mommy” he muttered grumpily, and closed his eyes.

With a ‘click’, Twilight turned on the lights. From beneath the landing where the two slept, she called up to him, “Spike, the first day of spring is tomorrow, so everypony in Ponyville needs to clean up winter! Now help me get ready.”

The unicorn leapt into the air three times her standing height, and landed all four hooves into her yellow boots, which had been lying at the ready.

“Clean up winter? Who cleans up winter? Don’t they just use magic to change the seasons like we do in Canterlot?”

With her hooves, Twilight picked up her winter saddle and lifted it over her head, letting it slide down to her midsection.
“No, Spike. Ponyville was started by Earth Ponies. So for hundreds of years they’ve never used magic to clean up winter.”

She got to her back, and performed some complicated, clumsy maneuvers to ensure her saddle was on straight. When she was finished, she stood up proudly.

“It’s traditional!” She declared, and her saddle slid off her back and flopped to the ground. She sighed.

“It’s ridiculous!” Spike concluded, and swaddled himself with his blue blanket. “No magic. Peh”

Twilight had her saddle on, and this time pulled the strap taught with her teeth.
She took her scarf from its hook on the wall, and wrapped it around her neck.

“Okay, let’s see” she began, looking at a checklist, also on the wall, “Scarf, check. Saddle, check. Boots, check. Spike refusing to get up and going back to sleep, check. It’s a good thing I’m so organized. I’m ready...” She burst out the front door of her library, “...bright and early!”

She looked out into the empty streets of Ponyville. It was still dark outside.
“Oh...maybe a little too early…”

When the sun rose and the day began, all the ponies in Ponyville emerged from their homes and set about their annual Winter Wrap-Up. In the sky, Rainbow Dash glided up and down a long line of hovering pegasus ponies who were flapping their wings to drive the winter clouds away from town.

“Keep it up! Don’t slack, Thunderlane!” she barked.

If all the pegasi on the line didn’t keep a uniform wind speed, all sorts of catastrophic weather could be formed. It was midmorning.

Rainbow took one glance at the ground - a habit she’d formed over years of flying - and something told her to look again. She did, and sure enough she found something unusual.
A bipedal form stood in the knee-deep snow, staring at the activity above.

Rainbow turned back to the line, but couldn’t stop glancing at the unmoving Simon below. It was distracting, and a bit creepy.

She dropped out of the sky and came to a hovering halt next to him.

“What’s up?”

He held out a piece of paper. Rainbow Dash stared at him. He shook the paper, and finally she read what was on it.

What Are You Doing?

She looked up at him with some incredulity.
“You really want to know?”

He nodded.
“Okay”

She shot up into the sky, and returned with a tuft of cloud as big as a cart. She held her hooves against it to keep it from floating up and away.

“Once we get these clouds away from Ponyville, we’ll kick them and let their water fall on...”
She paused. Simon was holding his hands against the surface of the cloud, imitating her hold on it. They passed straight through the misty body of the cloud. Arms still outstretched, he stumbled into the cloud and disappeared. His hands blindly found her hooves. He walked out of the cloud, pushing Rainbow Dash in front of him. The flying pegasus gave no resistance. He stopped when he realized what he was pushing against. Since the pegasus was no longer holding it down, the cloud rose back into the sky. They both watched it go, then, hands still grasping hooves, slowly lowered their eyes to each other.
“Yeah, only Pegasus ponies can touch clouds”

Simon’s eyes grew wide at this idea; his grip tightened. Rainbow Dash instinctively pulled her hooves out of his hands, which he quickly stuffed into his pockets.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to hear the rest?” she asked flatly.

He shook his head, and hurried away.

From atop a small hill, Applejack surveyed the ground-clearing operations.

She was startled to discover Simon sitting cross-legged right beside her.

“Oh, howdy, Simon!” she said shakily and tipped her hat.

He nodded at her.

“Here to watch the ponies clearin’ the snow off the fields?”

He shrugged, and sat down, gazing onto the fields.

“...Well, have fun...” Applejack muttered as she walked away.

Simon rose to his feet and wandered among the fields, observing their activity with great interest. The ponies were pushing the snow off the farmland with individual ploughs.

He saw one pony leave her snow-moving device. He peered inside and looked at the controls. He stepped inside, and pushed. It moved fairly easily. The ball of snow grew larger and heavier, but still he kept it moving.

He moved along at a steady pace. A small pegasus pony passed him on the right. She sped past him at an easy trot. He grit his teeth, clamped his hands down on the push-bar, and charged ahead. The snowball got bigger and heavier. He began to swerve off and on his path. He approached the pegasus. He was nose-and-nose with her when his machine suddenly veered toward her. He dug his heels into the ground and strained to turn his machine away. He ground to a halt. The pegasus trotted away without noticing. Simon’s muscles burned. He was wheezing. He pushed on the push-bar, but could not budge the machine. His heart raced; he felt dizzy. His vision blurred. He leaned on the push-bar and gasped.

“Are you alright?” He heard Applejack’s worried voice. She was right next to him. He shook his head.

“Take my hoof. Be careful steppin’ out”

Simon stepped over the threshold of the device, holding Applejack’s hoof for balance. He slipped on the wet ground.

“Come on, sugarcube. I’ve got ya”

She lifted his arm around her neck. He had to stoop to lean on her. Applejack took Simon away from the snow-clearing device. As they walked, Simon’s eyes cleared, and he saw she was taking him to the house. She dragged him into the kitchen and sat him down on a chair. She pressed a glass of water to his lips, and he accepted it desperately. The orange mare brought him some sliced apples on a plate, which he ate. A few minutes later, Simon was feeling shaken, but otherwise fine.

Applejack was stern, “Apple bruises, boy! What were ya thinkin?”

He looked back at her with wide eyes.

“Don’t you know to stop when you’re exhausted?”

He sighed and hung his head.

“Don’t worry about helpin’ out, sugarcube. We’ve got it handled”

Applejack left him to think in the family kitchen.

He could remember a time when his body seemed to possess infinite energy. What had happened? He was only thirty-three. Was he an invalid already?

Applebloom walked into the kitchen, and said, almost casually,

“Mornin’ Simon”

She jumped up on the chair next to him and sat down. She took some apple wedges from his plate and munched on them with some distaste.

“Not too long before we can have Ponyville apples again!” she said with excitement. When she looked up, she found she was alone.

Simon found himself at Carousel Boutique, where Rarity stood at a table laid out with straw and ribbons, fumbling with the materials in her hooves.
She mumbled something, but otherwise ignored him.
He rounded the table and watched her. She stood on her hind legs. Her tail arched gracefully, hovering just above the ground.

He picked up a bowl-shaped weave of straw with ribbons and bows woven through it. He didn’t know what it was for.

He watched Rarity for a time. She was working on another weave, apparently trying to make it look like the bowl-shaped one on the table. The one she worked on was squashed and resembled a bird’s nest in colour and shape. Rarity’s frustration grew with every passing moment. Before long, he left her to her work.

Outside of Ponyville, Simon found Pinkie Pie skating on the frozen surface of a small pond.

“HELLOOOOO, SIMON!” Pinkie bellowed as she skated backwards in his direction. She spun around gracefully, and came to a halt on her haunches and nose-to-nose with Simon.

“Hi!” she said again.

He looked back with cocked head and raised eyebrow.

“You wanna know what I’m doing?”

He nodded.

“I’m Ponyville’s one and only lake scorer! It’s my job to make the ice on the lake easy to break up and melt!”

Simon blinked.

“You wanna skate? It’s fuun!”

Pinkie wrapped a foreleg around his arm and pushed off gently. With her tugging, Simon lost his footing and put his foot down on the surface of the lake.

He heard a crunch, felt the sensation of an unexpected fall, and then the sting of the black, deadly water.

Pinkie heard Simon let out a strangled gasp as his arm was wrenched violently from her grasp. Her head snapped around to see what was wrong. She saw him lying in the snow beside the lake. The ice was intact. Simon’s eyes bulged wide; his breathing was rapid; his face was pale.

Pinkie Pie turned around on a dime and skated back to the panicked human. She walked off the ice, and sat near him until he was calm again.

“Are you okay?”

Without looking at her, he rose to his feet and walked away.

All around him, the citizens of Ponyville were literally washing the winter off the face of the Earth.

They didn’t need clothes to protect themselves from the cold. They didn’t need to protect themselves from the seasons: They held greater dominion over the Earth than he ever thought possible.

A familiar tune entered his mind:

A law was made a distant morn ago here
July and August cannot be too hot.
And there’s a legal limit to the snow here.
In Camelot!

The winter is forbidden ‘till December
And exits March the 2nd on the dot.
By order summer lingers through September.
In Camelot.

In short there’s simply not
A more congenial spot
for happ-ly-ever-after-ing
than here in Camelot!

It was from the Broadway musical “Camelot”. It was Arthur’s song to Guinevere about why Camelot is a paradise on Earth.

It was nothing more than a song from a play that was all but forgotten even in Simon’s time. But the world it described was unnervingly similar to the one he found himself in.

Equestria, what little he’d seen of it, had treated him well. The natural question to ask was, what had he done in return? He shuddered when nothing at all came to mind. He felt his legs weaken.

Fluttershy was on a hill north of Ponyville, to awaken some more animals. She found Simon there, sitting on the hill-side, staring out into the empty field beyond. He was squinting; the snow covering the field was very bright. She fluttered up to him, and gently lowered herself onto the snow. She looked at him; he glanced at her. Their eyes met briefly.

Slowly, he opened his palm to reveal a crumpled ball of paper. He smoothed it out to reveal a single, scrawled word:
Useless
Simon reached out and spread his palm over Fluttershy’s Cutie Mark.

Fluttershy nodded. “Come with me” she said. Simon followed her down the hillside, to a small hole in the ground. Fluttershy took the bell tucked under her wing, stuck her head down the hole, and rang it loud and clear. She pulled her head out. Out came a long, vicious-looking snake. It slithered between his legs and into the grass that was emerging from the snow.

Fluttershy rang the bell down the next den. A skunk emerged, and from the third, a cloud of bats came flapping out.

“They don’t need Cutie Marks to have a place in the world; they make one for themselves. I’m sure you can do the same”

Simon wandered away.

“Dear Princess Celestia,
Winter Wrap-Up was one of the most special things I’ve ever been a part of here in Ponyville. It helped me to learn that we all have hidden talents, and if we’re patient and diligent, we’re sure to find them. And, as always, with good friendship and teamwork, ponies can accomplish anything! How’s that, Spike? Spike?”

Twilight looked at her baby dragon, who was snoring in a warm robe and slippers on a rocking-chair next to a roaring fire. He’d fallen asleep with his pen and clipboard in his claws.

“Oh, Spike!” she sighed, and laughed cheerily.

Celestia,

I’m sad to report that Winter Wrap Up has forced me to acknowledge a fact that I have hidden from myself for too long: Equestria is a wonderful world, for those who help to make it so. However, I seem to serve no purpose here. This is why I’m asking you personally to share with me your wisdom about the places beyond Equestria, should I choose to leave.

Sincerely,

Simon X

He re-read his letter to the Princess. It struck him that Twilight didn’t know about his encounter with Celestia. He’d never had the reason or opportunity to tell her. The eternal sovereign he’d read about in the history books seemed so unlike the kind, laid-back mare that had consoled him in the woods the day after he’d been teleported out of Ponyville for burning a parasprite, he could hardly believe they were one and the same. That Celestia hadn’t shown herself to Twilight that day made him think she didn’t want Twilight to know.

And now he was asking her to taking him away from Twilight Sparkle, after all she’d done to take care of him. Despite the weight on his conscience, he rolled it up and ascended the stairs.

Simon opened the door from the basement quietly and looked around, making double-sure that Twilight Sparkle was nowhere around. Something about what he was doing made him feel terribly guilty.

He sneaked across the room to the sleeping Spike in his rocking chair with his bathrobe on, and a clipboard in his claws. Simon carefully took the clipboard from the dragon, slipped his note behind the one Twilight had dictated, placed the clipboard on the floor, and strode away.

Hours later, Spike awoke and eventually remembered that there was a letter to be sent to the Princess. He took both letters - never noticing the second - rolled them into a single scroll, and breathed them into Celestia’s hooves.

Fluttershy opened the door to Twilight’s Library without knocking. She found a comfortable scene inside: Twilight Sparkle by the fire, reading a book by it’s light; and Simon sitting nearby, looking pensive at the fire. Spike was snoring in a rocking-chair.

Twilight was the first to look up and notice the pegasus. “Come in, Fluttershy!” she exclaimed.

“Hi, Twilight” responded Fluttershy neutrally, “I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk with me, and we can enjoy the weather”

“That sounds delightful, I...” Twilight got up, then stopped and looked at her unusually assertive friend with a raised eyebrow, “What’s this about?” she asked.

Fluttershy nearly backed out the door. “I need to talk to you...alone” she whispered.

Without turning from the fireplace, Simon waved the two mares good-bye; Spike didn’t stir.

Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy walked in silence until the library was out of sight. The newborn Spring filled their senses and lifted their spirits.

Even so, Fluttershy’s demeanor turned grave when she spoke.

“We need to talk about Simon…”

“Oh dear. What’s wrong?”

“Yesterday, while I was waking up some critters from their dens, I found Simon. He wrote one word to me”

“What?”

“Useless”

Twilight let the meaning of the word sink in.

“I don’t know what to say” she finally admitted.

“Me neither” agreed Fluttershy, “I tried to reassure him, but I don’t think I helped much”

“I mean, it’s not like he’s actually useless. He’s helped us with, uh…hm... Well, he can’t be useless! Nothing in Equestria is! We could ask Applejack to give him a job on the farm…”

Fluttershy gave her a level stare. Twilight blushed.

“Okay, so maybe that’s not the best idea”

“Twilight, maybe we need to think...maybe we should think of places we can send him…away from Ponyville”

“No!” Twilight stopped in her tracks and stamped her hoof, “I won’t give him up!”

The two ponies stared at each other. The cacophony of the crickets and other night-creatures washed out all other sounds. Both Twilight and Fluttershy became distracted by fireflies appearing in the corners of their eyes, only to disappear when they turned their attention to them. At last, Twilight broke the silence.
“Whatever happens, Simon has to make the choice. We can’t force him to do anything”

Twilight was almost too afraid to face Simon to open the door to her own library. When she finally did, she found him sitting exactly where she’d left him half an hour earlier. It was suddenly painfully apparent that this was a portrait of a being with nothing to do in life.

She came between him and the fire, and looked deep into his dark, shadowy eyes. His face was...his face. Whatever fault she could find in it, she’d long since gotten used to it. He looked at her inquisitively. She spoke softly.

“I hope you remember, whatever happens, you’re my friend, and I’ll be there for you”

A quiver came to Simon’s lips. After a pause, he reached out a hand, and stroked Twilight’s muzzle.

Author's Note

This chapter was supposed to be so much better. Then again, aren't all chapters?

I'm sure people will love reading about emerging spring just as fall is about to descend upon us. You're welcome!

Sunrise

“PSSST! Simon! Wake up!”

Simon opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. The basement was black as pitch, save for the candle in the tiny dragon’s claw. Spike was halfway down the stairs. With the stairs obscured by the darkness, he seemed to be floating for a moment. The man pulled himself up and over to the dragon. Spike held out a scroll.

“It’s for you,” he whispered.
Simon inspected the scroll. Written in large letters on the side were the words, “Simon - Urgent”. He took the scroll, and nodded his thanks to Spike.

As Spike returned to bed, he mumbled, “It ain’t easy being the dragon of the house”

Simon flicked his flashlight. The battery was dying. He shook it until the light stopped flickering. He unfurled the scroll and held it under the straw-coloured beam.

It read, Meet me on the mountain before sunrise

He looked at his watch: Four o’clock. Sunrise was in less than two hours. He knew which mountain was meant. It was the most prominent mountain for miles around.

He laced his boots, climbed the stairs, and left the library in minutes. It was chilly, but far warmer than the winter had been. Winter had ended a week ago. Simon was still adjusting to the sudden change of season. The air was fresh. He brushed his hand along the side of the treehouse. It was wet with dew.

The day was still dark, but he could see the looming black silhouette of the mountain against the sky. He walked towards it.

He flared his nostrils as he walked. The smell of life begun anew saturated the air. He felt rejuvenated, even excited. He went at a steadily increasing pace towards the mountain.

It was four-forty when he got to the base of the mountain. No-one awaited him. He looked up, shrugged, and began to climb.

The mountain was so steep he had to climb on all fours. He couldn’t see well in the dark. He could only continue to reach up and find cracks and irregularities in the rock face to hoist himself up farther. The horizon began to glow: The zodiacal light. The sun was going to rise soon. He became tired. He heaved himself onto a flat, rocky outcropping, and rested. The sun would be up soon, and there was no sign of anyone.

He took a long drink of his canteen. For the first time, he thought of how he would get down off the mountain. The thought of descending the steep height made his stomach flutter.

“Hello, Simon.” came a voice from behind him. His already fluttery stomach gave him another jolt of surprise. He sputtered and coughed up some water.

He twisted around. There, in all her splendour, was Princess Celestia, bright and clear as though bathed in sunlight.

“I’m glad to see you again. I see you and Twilight Sparkle were able to reconcile your differences.”

It had been such a long time since they had last met, Simon had to think a moment to remember what she meant. He nodded.

“In fact, I understand you’ve made some good friends in Ponyville. I’m proud of you, Simon.”

These words instantly put a smile on his face.

“But remember who it was who took you in, took care of you, and who helped you make new friends in Ponyville. Without Twilight, you might not be here right now.”

His smile disappeared. Had he done something wrong by Twilight? Elation gave way to anxiety.

“Your letter,” said the Princess, holding the parchment he’d written her with her horn, “do you really know all that you wish to abandon? I don’t think you realize.”

He thought of what Twilight Sparkle would think if he had decided to leave on a whim. He felt guilty. He stirred uncomfortably.

A feathery wing gently fell across his shoulders.

“Simon, I don’t want to hurt you. You’re not a bad person.”

Simon felt the anxiety ease off. Celestia held the letter to her eyes again.

“You signed this letter, ‘Simon X’. Is that your real name?”

Simon shook his head.

“Were you trying to be something you were not?”

Simon shook his head. The truth was, Simon didn’t know what the ‘X’ meant. He didn’t remember anything about the day he changed his name. He hadn’t been much of a drinker before the night after he received his Masters. Afterward, he never touched another drop. It wasn’t until April the following year, when his tax forms arrived, that he found out his name had been changed.

Remembering all this, Simon couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the whole situation he’d found himself in.

Celestia lifted her wing and stood. The stars were almost gone.

“You do have a purpose in Equestria, Simon. You may find it closer than you think. Keep searching. You will find it.”

The sun peeked out over the horizon, rising and widening into a giant, blood-red circle kissing the horizon, hiding the town below from view in its glare. When he looked around him, he found himself alone.

He sat on the rock, his legs dangling over the edge, not moving, thinking.

He thought about Twilight Sparkle. He’d never thanked her for anything.
He thought about his life in Ponyville. What could he possibly do to make it worthwhile?
He thought about Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie and even Rainbow Dash. He knew, in his heart, that they cared about him.
He thought about Rarity. He hiccupped.

He watched the sun rise to its peak. Down in Ponyville, the streets were bustling with life. He was higher on the mountain than he’d thought.

Was Celestia right? Was he missing something that kept him from finding satisfaction in life in Ponyville? What could it possibly be? What authority was she on the matter of his destiny? Did he owe a debt to Twilight for saving his life and taking him in? Was that his purpose?

He fell into an uneasy sleep on the hard rocks. He began to descend just before midday.

Ponyville smelled richer. The warmth of the spring breeze was like an affectionate embrace from a long-lost loved one. All the ponies were in high spirits as the Earth was reborn. He wandered the streets awhile. The ponies saw through him, as usual. He stood in the middle of the road, and watched the various colours of the ponies that rode by. He looked at every single Cutie Mark, as well.

He reflected on how comforting it must be, to have what they were meant to be stamped on their sides. At the same time, it was liberating to be a blank slate, able to do anything that appealed to him. He remembered his first year of University.

The hustle and bustle of the town all around him, he noticed things he hadn’t noticed in his five months (one month short of half a year, he thought) in Equestria: He saw the ponies line up courteously in front of the stands; he saw a select few ponies cut in front of others; not once were they challenged; he noticed the way the ponies traded and bartered.

He saw the prices of various goods on the signs in the stands. Without consciously thinking of it, he mentally worked out the value of various combinations of goods, something he had often done in his younger life.

His brain was working at a faster pace. It was as though he’d been only half-awake since his arrival, and his mind was no longer dormant. He began wondering why that was: Had he been so traumatized by all that had happened to him? Was it just seasonal depression? His skin felt electrified. He thought of his project to write down all that he knew, and found it totally ludicrous. A new idea was formulating in his mind, one that was doable and meaningful…

“Simon!” Twilight called. He shook himself out of his thoughts.

He jumped in surprise to see Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie approaching him, both wearing colourful miniature umbrellas on their heads.

“Boy, you sure got up early. Where’ve you been?” the purple unicorn asked.

He pointed to the mountain. Twilight furrowed her brow.

“What were you doing there?”

He couldn’t tell her without speaking. His stomach rumbled.

“Sounds like somepony’s hungry!” exclaimed Pinkie Pie, “I know what we should do! Let’s show Simon how to bake cinnamon buns!”

“How’s that sound, Simon?”

He silenced his internal dissent, smiled, and nodded.

Before she moved, Simon gently tapped the umbrella on Twilight’s head. She looked up at it, and beamed.

“Oh, that! Pinkie Pie’s tail was twitching. That means something’s gonna fall!”

Simon raised an eyebrow. Was Twilight really given to such primitive superstitions?

“It’s true! I’ve been following Pinkie around all day studying her Pinkie Sense! We just got back from Froggy Bottom Bog. Pinkie said something would happen there, and let me tell you, it was a doozy!” Twilight and Pinkie Pie laughed.

Simon raised his eyebrows. Twilight Sparkle, the most learned pony he knew, had just conceded defeat to irrationality and superstition. He looked down at the unicorn with new eyes. She smiled up at him innocently, completely oblivious to the challenge she had made to him.

He looked over to Pinkie Pie prancing along the street. He was determined to understand the mind of the pink earth pony, or die trying.

Spike the Dragon stuck his head out the topmost window of the library, ready to send Twilight’s latest report to the Princess, when he stopped and looked up. With a crash, the Princess herself landed on the balcony in front of him.

“Twitchy tail?” Spike sputtered.

Wordlessly, Celestia took the letter in her mouth, and took off towards the sky.

“Holy Guacamole!” Spike said.

Author's Note

http://youtu.be/UdyAoSXF9LU

This was basically done before Winter Wrap-Up was done, so that's why it came out so quick.

I'm looking forward to the next chapter ("Pinkie Pie: An In-Depth Study"), since it's a complete change in style, reminiscent of Chapter 2 which, according to one critic, was The Only Good Chapter. Whether that's true or not, the upcoming chapter will be a lot of fun to write.

I currently have a job, doing something not unimportant, something to do with the construction of nuclear reactors. I may or may not have time.

Pinkie Pie: An In-Depth Study

Pinkie Pie: An In-Depth Study

By Simon Abraham Berkowitz, Master’s of Mathematics

Abstract:
BF Skinner found that pigeons trained to peck at a button to receive food exhibited interesting behavior when the experiment was changed to dispense food at random button presses.

When the pigeon performed a simple action - say, looking over her left shoulder - and by coincidence received food twice in rapid succession, the pigeon would begin to perform the action repeatedly, even though looking over the left shoulder did not improve her chances of receiving food.

These results indicate that superstition is a natural consequence of normal animal learning. Here, we shall investigate a specific instance of mass superstition.

Introduction:

In my adopted hometown of Ponyville, I have encountered a fascinating superstition surrounding one specific earth pony - a mare named Pinkie Pie. She is reputed to possess the ability to predict the immediate future through queues given her by her body. Such superstitions are almost universal among humans - my mother claimed that she got a headache whenever her brother was about to call. To this day I can recall with perfect clarity the image of her sitting in the living room with her eyes closed and her fingers on her temples, saying “Sam’s going to call any minute.”
I can also recall with perfect clarity my own dubiousness when Uncle Sam failed to call that night, or at all for a full week.

What separates the case of my mother from the case of Pinkie Pie is that nobody really believed in my mother’s supposed ability. While it is not particularly hard to get a person to believe something without evidence, an effort has to be made to get people to believe. My mother never tried to get anyone to believe her. By contrast, almost every citizen of Ponyville I’ve asked has admitted to believing in Pinkie’s Extra-Sensory Perception, even though Pinkie Pie herself denies ever attempting to convince others of its validity.

Aside from her alleged supernatural abilities, Pinkie Pie is well-known among Ponyvillians for having organized countless social events. She has a reputation for being a very friendly pony, but also for being insecure and eccentric.

In this paper, we describe a series of double-blind tests performed to investigate what ponies have dubbed “The Pinkie Sense”. Most of these tests were inspired by experiments performed in the 20th and 21st centuries on psychics, dowsers, mediums, tarot card readers, and other professed fortune-tellers.

I wish to thank Twilight Sparkle for supporting me in this endeavor, and for feeding me and housing me as I worked on it. She was with me for most of these experiments, and gave me counsel when I was unsure if something was ethical.

I wish to thank Spike the Dragon for acting as my voice during the verbal portions of this experiment.

I wish to thank the Cutie Mark Crusaders - Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo - for assisting me in these experiments. I also thank their teacher, Miss Cheerilee, for allowing them to assist.

Finally, I would like to thank Pinkie Pie for her cooperation and patience with me.

Part 1 - Pinkie Pie

I first met Pinkie Pie in November of last year. She immediately struck me as a particularly special pony. I’m not qualified to assign her a Meyers-Briggs personality, but I would definitely label her an extravert.

Twilight Sparkle has already done a study on Pinkie Pie, and has concluded that her predictions are accurate. I intend to study Pinkie’s ability under more controlled conditions than my predecessor.

In preparation for this study, Pinkie and I had an interview where I assessed her own perception of her abilities.

A full transcript of the interview is found in Appendix A.

At the interview, Pinkie was positive, cheerful, and comfortable.

One thing that struck me about Pinkie Pie’s attitude toward her own ability is that she seems to believe in her predictions cautiously. She used the phrase ‘supposedly predict the future’ more than once throughout the interview. I was given the impression that she trusts her instinct without understanding it.

We took Pinkie Pie to two Ponyville physicians to get independent, professional assessment of her health. Both doctors told us the mare is in excellent health, though one of them cautioned her about her eating habits (she works at a bakery that specializes in sweet baked goods).

Part 2 - The Pinkie Sense

During our interview, Pinkie said her Pinkie Sense allows her to ‘supposedly predict the future’ based on sensations in her body, or sometimes series of sensations in sequence. Pinkie gave a few examples for me:

Twitchy Tail - “Something is about to fall”
Itchy Back - “Today’s my lucky day”
Flapping Ears - Someone will need a bath
“Pinchy” Knee- “Something scary is about to happen”
Achy Shoulder - “There’s an alligator in the tub”
Ear flop, knee twitch, eye flutter - “The sky is about to be graced by a beautiful rainbow”
Ear flop, eye flutter, knee twitch - “Look out for opening doors” (Pinkie adds this is “usually” what it means.)
Itchy nose - “Bees”

Like most claimed psychic powers, many of her ‘predictions’ are vague. For example “Today is your lucky day” was a common phrase in horoscopes, though it was usually followed by an equally vague call for caution. “Something is about to fall” is especially vague, since at any given time, something can be said to be “falling”, even if it’s a fluid particle moving downward due to Brownian motion.

Some of these, on the surface, seem rather specific. For example, predicting the presence of an alligator in a bathtub is an astonishing claim. However, once we look into the claim, we find that Pinkie owns a pet alligator, and is likely one of the few ponies to own such an exotic pet. Since alligators need to spend most of their time in water, Pinkie may be merely predicting what is true most of the time.

All this being said, Pinkie is occasionally able to give a more specific prediction than usual, sometimes giving a time or location. For example, during a recent episode, Pinkie was overcome with violent shivering. She interpreted this to mean that some major event (she described it with the word “doozy”) was going to occur at Froggy Bottom Bog outside Ponyville. Pinkie Pie and three friends - Twilight Sparkle included - went to investigate, and were attacked by a four-headed creature called a “hydra” that had apparently been awoken by their presence. Interestingly, after the group had escaped unharmed, Pinkie continued to shiver and maintained that the predicted event had not yet passed. Twilight Sparkle, who was understandably distressed by the events of the day, professed her belief in the truth of the Pinkie Sense. Pinkie then announced that that was the ‘doozy’: A rational, scientific mind putting faith in something she couldn’t explain or understand.

Once again, this prediction is more top-heavy than it may appear on the surface. First, the only reason the prediction came true was that all present believed it would come true. The argument can be made for a self-fulfilling prophecy. Second, the only reason Pinkie and Twilight were at Froggy Bottom Bog was that Pinkie predicted something would happen there. Rather than predicting the event, Pinkie Pie may have actually caused it.

The ultimate reason to be skeptical is that, regardless of how eerily accurate Pinkie’s predictions are, there simply isn’t any evidence to support that she made those predictions without some awareness of the situation beforehand. For example, when Pinkie gave the prediction, “Watch out for opening doors” prior to Twilight Sparkle falling down an open cellar door. Cellar doors, steep staircases, manholes, and subway grates are all serious hazards. If Pinkie were aware of the door - we have no evidence that she wasn’t - she may well have been concerned enough that her senses gave her a warning. Twilight’s unfortunate accident would then prove nothing more than that Pinkie was right in regarding the cellar door a hazard.

Part 3 - Locating Hidden Objects

I started with this test because of an experience I had with Pinkie Pie this winter: She found me at a place no one knew I was going to be, and apparently did so effortlessly. Rainbow Dash has shared a similar experience with me.

The experiment was set up as follows :

Twelve identical boxes, each labeled with a unique number, were placed in the testing area. One box contained a bucket of water. All other boxes contained buckets of dirt. Neither the tester nor the subject knew which box contained which item. The subject was instructed to give the number of the box containing the water to the tester. This experiment was performed twelve times.

For this experiment, two random variables were created: The number of the box containing the water, and the number of the box chosen by the subject. Therefore, we have 144 possible outcomes, of which 12 could be considered an accurate guess. The probability that a subject should select a box containing water if she were to choose completely at random is one in twelve.

The control group consisted of three ponies - one earth pony, one pegasus pony, and one unicorn - and one human (myself). Their results were as follows:

Subject Number of Correct Guesses
Unicorn 12/12
Pegasus 2/12
Earth Pony 2/12
Human 3/12
Pinkie Pie 2/12

I asked the unicorn to explain how she was able to find the water correctly each time. She explained to me she used a spell to “sense” water. The nature of unicorn magic is beyond my understanding, so must be eliminated as a variable.

If we disregard the unicorn’s results, we find that Pinkie Pie’s predictions were no better than the control group.

I decided to vary the test on the grounds that Pinkie seems extremely adept at locating ponies and humans. My initial idea was to put a live pony (a filly) in one of the boxes and have Pinkie Pie attempt to locate her. Twilight Sparkle has advised me not to do this on ethical grounds, so I’ve settled for a lock of hair from the fillies’ tails.

The experiment was repeated, with the following results:

Subject Number of Correct Guesses
Unicorn 12/12
Pegasus 1/12
Earth Pony 3/12
Human 0/12
Pinkie Pie 4/12

While Pinkie did better than all the other subjects (except the Unicorn, who once again used magic to locate her sister’s hair), she did not demonstrate our hypothesis that she can locate an individual or object under arbitrary conditions with high accuracy.

Part 4 - Testing the Pinkie Sense

In this experiment we explore whether Pinkie Pie can predict events before they happen, in total absence of external stimuli.

The setup of the experiment is as follows:

Pinkie Pie and myself were placed alone in a small, four-walled enclosure within a larger building, with the following items:

One 20 Kilogram sand bag, suspended over a china teacup using a pulley tied to a cleat outside the enclosure

One wooden door, swinging inward, hinged as close to the corner of the room as possible.

One china vase, positioned on the floor to be between the door and the wall when the door opens.

One bucket filled with mud, suspended over me using a pulley tied to a cleat outside the enclosure.

Outside the enclosure, two ponies were positioned by the cleats securing the sandbag and the bucket, and one pony was positioned by the door. A two-faced clock was set into the wall of the enclosure so the three ponies outside the enclosure, as well as Pinkie Pie and myself, had a synchronized time reference. A script was prepared ahead of time indicating the time at which certain events were to happen. On their time cue, the ponies outside would either drop the sandbag on the teacup, dump the mud on my head, or kick open the door with enough force to shatter the vase. Inside, I was equipped to take note of any predictions Pinkie gave me. Procedures were in place to reset the experiment in minimal time in order to perform as many independent tests as possible. The script was written to allow for a reset before another event took place.

A “Hit” was only counted if the event was correctly predicted significantly prior to that event and no other event.
Only one prediction was allowed between events.

The script was written ahead of time, and was unknown to either myself or Pinkie Pie. Sessions lasted four hours per day, six days a week (We did not work Saturdays) for three weeks. The results follow:

Day Hits/Total Number of Events
1 1 / 4
2 2 / 5
3 3 / 6
4 1 / 5
5 2 / 6
6 2 / 6
7 2 / 7
8 4 / 6
9 5 / 5
10 1 / 4
11 1 / 6
12 3 / 6
13 2 / 6
14 2 / 5
15 1 / 5
16 1 / 5
17 1 / 6
18 1 / 6

Average: 0.35

The average is remarkably close to the expected value of one-third if one were to guess the events at random.

On the final day of the experiment, I unexpectedly left the room. I searched the town and found Rainbow Dash, a friend of Pinkie Pie’s. I brought her back to the lab, and announced into the room (without opening the door),

“Who have I brought with me?”

Without hesitation, she declared, “Rainbow Dash”

I found another pony from Ponyville, and repeated the action. I did this nine times, and each time Pinkie Pie guessed the correct name.

I am unsure how to interpret these results, but since they were not under perfectly controlled conditions, they can be safely discarded. My best explanation is that Pinkie possibly identified the approaching pony by the sound of their hoofsteps.

Part 5 - Conclusions

A few days after experimentation concluded, Pinkie Pie visited me and gave me a very peculiar message. Apparently this message was brought by the “combo”: knee twitch, nose itch, eye flutter, knee twitch, tail twitch, eye flutter, back itch.

She told me, “I know you miss Mimi; I’m sure she was a good poodle. But you gave her a good life”

The truth is that I did own a poodle named Mimi, and I do think about her from time to time and, like most things in life we no longer have, I wish to see her again.

One of the few benefits of my inability to speak is that all intelligible discourse I’ve had with any pony has been recorded on paper. Most of those papers have been saved (though a few may have been disposed or discarded). I have gone through every paper I can get a hold of to find any mention of Mimi. So far I have found none. I have asked Twilight, with whom I’ve spoken the most, does not recall me ever mentioning my dog.

Since I cannot be sure that a piece of paper was not lost, I conclude that this event was not controlled and therefore is inadmissible as evidence for Pinkie’s abilities.

The major find of this experiment is that we have found Pinkie Pie’s ability to accurately predict the future to be largely over-exaggerated. To be sure, she may possess acute situational awareness, and may be able to anticipate from that awareness better than most other ponies, this is the result of natural, understandable processes and shouldn’t be attributed to something beyond the realm of nature.

Twilight Sparkle sat by the fire on her haunches, holding with her horn a bound copy of her human’s paper. On the other end of the room, its author leaned back in a rocking chair, watching her reactions while pretending to read a book.

Occasionally she giggled, hummed or gasped at something she read. Every reaction gave Simon a new pang of joy.

At last, the purple unicorn looked up from the paper, and beamed at him.

“This is amazing work, Simon! I’m proud of you!”

He squirmed with excitement at these words.

Twilight smiled; she blushed a little.

“I have something for you,” she said a little nervously. Simon sat forward attentively. The mare crossed the room to the kitchen. When she emerged, she had a cloth pouch with her. She levitated it to him; he took it without much discomfort. He looked inside: The bag was filled with bits. He hadn’t handled much Equestrian currency, and had no idea how much it was worth. He reached in and began pulling them out one by one to count them…

“There’s a hundred bits in there,” said Twilight before he got too far.

He looked up at her.

“You’ve earned it”

Simon felt empowered. He’d grown up in a well-to-do household, and had possessed some sought-after skills, so money had never been much of a problem. Since arriving in Ponyville, he’d been completely dependent on Twilight Sparkle’s charity to survive, and he was suddenly infused with a feeling of independence. He’d worked a month furthering Twilight’s understanding of Pinkie Pie, and he received in return the ability to do any of a number of things. He knew immediately what he was going to do with it. Simon tossed his money bag in the air and caught it. He sauntered out of the library, heading in the direction of Carousel Boutique.

Twilight was a little bewildered by Simon’s hasty exit. She was a little less bewildered when Pinkie Pie barged in less than half a second later.

“Heya, Twilight!” The pink pony bounced.

“Hi, Pinkie,” Twilight responded,”What’s up?”

“Just wanted to see if you’ve read the experiment yet”

“As a matter of fact, I just finished!”

“What did you think? Did I do a good job?”

“You did an excellent job, Pinkie. You were very cooperative”

“...and Simon got exactly the result he wanted!”

“...wait, what?” asked Twilight, but Pinkie was gone.

Edited by Admari, moral support by Hustlin Tom

Author's Note

The formatting on the tables sucks. I'll try to fix it.

A Woman's Touch

Rarity wandered about Carousel Boutique, putting away mannequins and closing window blinds. The setting sun outside cast a warm orange glow. She was about to head up the stairs, when the bell over the door rang. She turned to the unruly customer, and said, “I’m sorry, but we’re closed. If you could come back tomorrow…”
She stopped when she saw Simon’s face poking from behind the door.

“Oh, it’s you! Come in, dear! Don’t be shy!.”

The thin, pale human stepped into the foyer, closed the door firmly behind him, and looked about the room huntedly.

“Would you like something, darling?”

Simon looked down and pulled at his ragged clothes. The olive jacket and pants were nearly white from nearly daily washing. They were the only set of clothes he owned.

“Oh” said Rarity. He reached into his jacket and produced a pouch. He opened it. It was full of bits. Rarity had both anticipated and feared this day.
“Hmm…I think I have an idea...come with me” She turned and led Simon to a dressing-room. She drew the curtains.

“Strip” she ordered.

His eyes widened. Rarity looked at him unflinchingly. Simon slowly unzipped his jacket and tossed it lightly aside. At Rarity’s urging, he removed his T-shirt underneath, leaving only a grimy, sweat-stained tank top. Rarity gathered up his clothes with her magic.

“That’s enough. Now the pants, please.”

Simon untied his boots, took off his sweaty socks full of holes, and slipped his pants off one leg at a time. He stood before her, slouched and with folded arms.

“Now stand up straight, and spread your arms out”

Simon blushed and maintained his slouched, self-covering posture.

Rarity softened her voice, “Darling, you don’t need to be afraid of me. I’m a professional”

Simon started to straighten himself, then stopped as he felt the cool air on his chest. Rarity sighed and levitated his bag of bits and his clothes back over to him.

“Either cooperate with me or leave”

Simon complied, quivering.

Rarity brightened, “Thank you, dear,” and levitated his clothes and pouch away.

He felt the cold snake of measuring tape wrap around his waist, travel up to the barrel of his chest, then around his neck. He kept his eyes closed. Rarity opened the curtains of the changing-room and carried Simon’s clothes over to a bench where she laid them out and studied them. She brought her orange working glasses and placed them on her nose.

“Hmmm...low-quality cotton. Terrible colour...How do these fit on you?”

Rarity mumbled away to herself, leaving Simon sitting self-aware behind her. Simon hugged himself; he was cold. He tried to imagine he was someplace warm. Rarity approached him, carrying with her magic a dozen swatches of fabric.

“Come out here into the light, Simon”

He crept out of the dark changing room into the bright lights of the boutique. He noticed some of the windows had open blinds, and he felt ashamed. Rarity held the swatches close to his face, gauging how well the tones would match with his eyes and skin. Her eyes brightened when she announced,

“I see...an elegant gold satin shirt with a marvelous pair of pants! You will not be disappointed!”

Simon looked down at her. Her eyes shimmered as though a thousand ideas were sparking just behind them them.

One idea came out: “It really is too bad we don’t have a...female companion for you. I can see a beautiful matching dress for this”

A pang shot through Simon’s mind at these words. It reverberated through his body, and filled his stomach with butterflies. Rarity turned away and went back to work at her table, measuring out lengths of fabric, hemming, sewing, and pinning. Simon’s head was swimming. His heart was pounding. It was as though a tempest was raging inside his body. He felt ill. His left hand found his right, and they clasped and held each other. He fidgeted his fingers uncomfortably. He looked at Rarity. Her comment about a female companion had brought this feeling on him. He was shaking. He closed his eyes, and tried to think of something else.

He was in his house in New Jersey, in his university days. He was working on some math problem or another, when he heard the door creak open. In walked Mimi. She approached him, stood next to him, looked at him. Her intelligent brown eyes were half-obscured by the wooly hair on her head. Her tail wagged.

“RRRR” she whispered to him.

Simon put down his pencil, and turned to her.

“GRRRR!” he said in return.

The look Mimi gave him could easily have been one of incredulity.

“GRAWAWAH!” she told him.

“GRAWAWAH!” he mimicked in reply.

“AWAWAWARRRAH!” she said, more agitated.

“AWAWAAARGH!”

“oooOOOOAWAAA-” she began, but was interrupted by a yawn.

Simon laughed, and rose to take Mimi for a walk. Rarity was in front of him now. From behind him, a sheet of fabric draped over his shoulders.

“Hmph” said Rarity, and walked off to resume her work.

Simon shrugged as the cloak was lifted off his shoulders. He was taken to New York City. He was in the apartment where he’d grown up. He was in the comfortable living-room, sitting in a soft chair, facing his father, also sitting. His father had just turned seventy-six years old, and a recent widower in the past year. The lines of his face were carved in by age. He looked tired. He nursed a scotch in his right hand. An untouched glass sat by Simon’s chair. His father had short, white hair.

“Son, you know I care about you, right?”

Simon looked up to his father, unsure what to say in reply.

“Dad?”

“It’s just that...I don’t think you’re happy”

Simon thought about this. After a long pause, he said,

“I have a good job, a good house…”

His father sighed.

“For God’s sake, son, how can you be satisfied with your life if you don’t have someone to share it with?”

He’d had this conversation before with his father.

“I don’t know, dad. I just don’t think about that sort of thing, I guess” he lied.

His father downed the rest of his scotch. He began to struggle out of his chair to get more, but Simon took his untouched glass and pressed it into his father’s hand. His father reclined in his seat and grunted contentedly. Simon thought some more, and added, “I guess I don’t want another...person in my life until my life is sorted out. I want to be able to provide for...her, and make her happy…”

His father looked at him with wide eyes. Simon suddenly felt foolish.

“...I don’t know” he lowered his head and grabbed his hair.

“Simon, your life won’t be complete until you’ve found someone. Have you even tried?”

Simon looked at his father sorrowfully.

“I don’t want to talk about it” he mumbled.

He was sitting in his kitchen in his University days. He had spent the last three days calculating a formidable integral, and was now trying to find a geometric interpretation of it. This was supposed to be the easy part, he thought woefully. He was hungry; he was tired; he hadn’t showered in three days; he just wanted the whole ordeal to be over. Max wandered into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk. He was just about to leave when Simon swallowed his pride and asked,
“Do you know what this integral means, geometrically?”

Max turned around in his usual stiff manner, marched up to the table, and bent over at the waist to look at Simon’s work. His face was inches from Simon’s. He could smell Max’s breath. Max snapped himself to an upright posture and announced,
“Yes, I do” and left the kitchen.

Simon dropped his head onto his forearm on the table, and giggled uncontrollably.

He was taken to a place and time he didn’t remember. He sat on a couch next to a woman. He did not see her, what she looked like didn’t matter: He knew he wanted her to be happy, and knew she wanted the same of him. Though he did not see it, he knew somewhere in the house was a child, with a full, wonderful life ahead of it. Simon marveled at the infinitude of possibilities for his child’s future, and he looked up to the woman and smiled.

“I love you” he told her.

She reached out and held his hand tightly.

Rarity was on her haunches, in front of Simon, cradling his hand between her hooves. His head was still hanging, and his eyes were still closed. She’d been bringing over some rough approximations of jackets and pants to ensure they hung on him the way she expected when she found him sitting with his head down, heaving and whimpering. She cast aside the prototypes and temporarily forgot about them.

“Simon? Are you all right?”

The human raised his head and looked at her. His eyes were red and bloodshot. He looked down at his hand, sandwiched between her hooves. It tensed for only a moment, and then he lifted his other hand and stroked her foreleg. His lip was quivering. He tried to speak. Nothing came out.

“Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself”

He kept trying to speak, his vocalizations becoming weaker and shakier. In a sudden movement, he leaned forward and wrapped his arm around Rarity. She yelped and pulled away in surprise. Simon fell to the floor, and lay on his face, still whimpering.

“What in the name of Eq-” she stopped. She looked down at the weeping human.

“Oh…” she said to herself. She thought she understood.

She lay down in front of him, and took his hand again. He looked up at her. His eyes were wet.

“Simon, I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t have said that...I wasn’t thinking”

He rose to his knees, and tried to stand.

“Come here” she told him, and wrapped her foreleg around his back. She pulled him towards herself. He wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face into her neck. He listened to her breathing. It soothed him.

“Shh...It’s okay”

He felt the softness of her skin, the fineness of her hair, the warmth of her body. Man or beast, she was alive, and she cared about him. Her hoof lightly rubbed the back of his neck. He was pacified.

“Simon, if you ever feel lonely, or sad, just remember that I’m here. Remember Twilight Sparkle, Fluttershy, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash. Remember that we’re here, we’re your friends, and we all love you”

She looked uncertain for a moment, then suddenly she shot her neck out and kissed him lightly on the bridge of his nose. The butterflies in his stomach seemed to fly away. He looked at Rarity. Her eyes were blue as the ocean, and seemed just as deep. Her hair was so flawlessly white, her mane so expertly styled. Comfort covered him like a blanket. Rarity returned his clothes to him. He put them on quickly.

“I’ll get your clothes to you as quickly as I can” she said, returning to her professional demeanor. Simon went to the door.

“Simon!” She called.

“You’ll be alright” she told him.

He smiled, and left.

Author's Note

I am dead.

Anger

It was a bright, beautiful day in Ponyville, and it matched Simon’s mood perfectly.

He was thinking about Rarity, his friends, and his future. What was he going to do with it? He was a human in a world of magic and ponies, and for the first time since his bizarre new life began, he could consider that thought without discomfort or distaste: He felt welcome in the land of Equestria; he felt loved.

The warmth of the sun on his skin matched his heart. He was wandering up the dusty path to Sweet Apple Acres. The smell of the orchard was always welcoming. Rows and rows of apple trees lined the path, hemmed off by a simple wooden fence. Somewhere in front of him, he saw something fly above the fence and across the path, followed by a small creature wriggling under the fence after it. He heard barking.
Simon jogged ahead just in time to find Wynona, the Apple family dog, bringing the thrown stick back across the road to a waiting Apple Bloom.

“Hi, Sahmon!” she called out cheerfully. She waved him over with her hoof. Simon smiled and waved back. Wynona rushed toward him and wriggled happily as she sniffed his feet.
“Wanna throw a few?” The young apple pony invited before offering the stick in her mouth.

Wynona looked up at him and wagged her tail. He took the stick offered him. He reeled his arm back, and flung the stick as far as he could. The stick sailed far and true into the bare field opposite the Apple’s trees. Wynona shot off into the grass, and disappeared.

“Go, Wynona! Go get it!” Apple Bloom cheered. She had climbed up the fence and was dangling from her forehooves. She was eye-to-eye with Simon.

“Wow, Sahmon, you can throw far!”

Wynona, having found the stick, was eagerly pounding her way back to the fence. She was so excited, she forgot to slow down, and sailed right into the fence with a loud thud.

“Whoooa!” Apple Bloom shouted as she lost her grip on the shaking fence. She fell to the ground, with another thud.

The hardy young Earth Pony filly arose from her fall, a little sore, and very red from embarrassment.
Wynona rose, halfheartedly wagging her tail in embarrassment.

Simon silently laughed hysterically. It was a perfect moment.

Rarity hadn’t said when Simon’s new clothes would be ready. He wanted to visit her and ask.
He stopped by Carousel Boutique and found Rarity, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy and Spike. They were carting a massive convoy of wagons, each fully loaded with hundreds of jewels. The girls were all laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Twilight took notice of him. She waved him over. Applejack started shaking the harness on her back.

“Can somepony help get this thing off me? It’s rougher’n a dry dragon’s scales”

Simon reached out and grabbed the harness. It was dirty, heavy, and mean-looking. He dropped it on the ground. The chains connecting it to the wagon rattled. The wagon squeaked rustily. The harness left a dark, greasy stain on Applejack’s coat. Twilight looked up at him,
“You’re probably wondering what happened” She said. Simon nodded.

Rarity cleared her throat, “Well, dear Spikey and I were out in the rock fields West of Ponyville searching for gems…” she began,

“When we were suddenly attacked by a pack of wild, mangy Diamond Dogs!” Spike interrupted,
“they grabbed Rarity and took her down to their underground caves!”

“Spikey fought so bravely” cooed Rarity, nuzzling her cheek against his.

“I ran back to Ponyville and got these guys to help” Spike said, gesturing to the ponies around him.

"We ran to them rock fields faster 'n chickens from a badger!" Applejack chimed in.

"When we got there, the Diamond Dogs had dug up half the field! There were holes everywhere!" Twilight added.

"We tried to get down the holes, but the Dogs filled them up too fast. They came from every which way. It was horrible!" Fluttershy shuddered.

"'n then little Spike here had the idea to bait the Dogs with a diamond he'd got! Led us right to ‘em!" Applejack said, patting Spike's head approvingly.

"We followed the trail of diamonds to the Dogs' lair, when suddenly, a whole PACK of them jumped on us and tried to bridle us!" Twilight said.

"MORE WORK HORSES!" Pinkie Pie rasped, in imitation of her would-be captor. She giggled at her own voice.

"But then we bucked them off and sent those dogs flying!!" Rainbow Dash cheered.

Spike said, "When we got into their lair, we found Rarity...."

"...They wanted me to dig diamonds for them, and pull their wretched carts about like a common mule! I convinced them they would not benefit from such an arrangement" Rarity finished with a self-satisfied grin.

"...They even let her have all these gems!" Spike finished, tossing an enormous red sapphire into his mouth.

The team of ponies stood, proud of all they’d accomplished that day.

"Well, girls. I have a huge order to fill. I shall see you all in a few days" Rarity declared, disappearing into her boutique.

Rainbow Dash Dashed away, Pinkie Pie skipped away, Applejack moseyed away, and Fluttershy fluttered away. Soon only Simon, Spike and Twilight were left. Simon was still absorbing the story he’d just heard. He felt ill.

That night, Simon ate dinner with Spike and Twilight. They sat at a long table in the kitchen and ate. Their meal consisted of a combination of steamed and raw vegetables. His hands were shaking too hard to hold his fork, and his stomach was too sick to let him eat.
He imagined Rarity, chained to a wagon-cart while giant, slavering dogs ordered her about. He imagined Twilight, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie in the same situation. Their coats were stained, their manes were matted. They were trapped in a black pit of despair, and he was helpless to help them find a way out...
He must have stared at his plate without eating for too long. Twilight moved closer to him and asked,
“What’s wrong?”

With the pencil and paper that was always nearby, Simon wrote,
Today with Rarity. What’s going to happen?

Twilight cocked her head.
“What are you talking about?”

Those dogs took Rarity as a slave. Aren’t they going to be punished?

Twilight tapped her chin with her hoof in thought, “...Well, they lost all of their jewels, and I’m sure they’ll never harm Rarity or, hopefully, any pony after their experience. I’d say they’ve learned their lesson.”

Simon could hardly keep his pencil straight as he wrote,

That’s not right. They wanted to make Rarity a wagon-puller. They're evil, and they should be punished

Simon breathed heavily as he wrote. His heart was pounding, and he'd begun to perspire lightly. Twilight’s hoof stroked his arm lightly.
“It sounds like you're shaken up by what happened to Rarity. I think you should go talk to her...she'll tell you she's all right”

He nodded in agreement, rose from the table, and left Twilight, Spike, and his half-eaten dinner.

"I didn't mean now!" Twilight yelled angrily, too late for him to hear.

The bell chimed happily over the door to Carousel Boutique. A smiling Rarity trotted from the back.

“Welcome to Carousel B...oh, it’s you” Rarity’s countenance fell as soon as she saw who her customer was. She looked haggard.
“I’m sorry, Simon, dear. I’m afraid your clothes aren’t ready yet”

Rarity turned around and walked to the back of the boutique. Simon followed her. The back room was filled with piles of jewels from the Diamond Dogs. Rarity took her place in front of a bright, white, jewel-studded suit, to which she continued to attach yet more jewels. Simon sat down behind her and scribbled,

Can we talk?

He held the note for her to read. The jewels hovering by stopped in mid-air as she read.

“Ugh. Now’s not the best time, darling. I have a huge order for Sapphire Shores that I have to fill by next week. I’m lucky I got kidnapped by the Diamond Dogs, or else I’d have lost a lot more time searching for jewels. As it is, I barely have time to get it done”

Simon’s eyes bulged.

You’re happy you were kidnapped?

Again, Rarity stopped to read his message.

“Well, obviously I’m not happy I was kidnapped by a bunch of mangy dogs, but considering what I got out of it…”

The white unicorn gestured toward the immense pile of jewels.

“...it could have been worse”
She went back to work. Simon wrote furiously,

You’re not even a little affected by what happened?

Rarity groaned, “Simon, I don’t have time to stop and read every time you want to say something”
Rarity stared intently and silently at her outfit, affixing a hundred jewels to it in determined silence before she sighed, “I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of pressure right now. How about I take a break, and we can talk?”
She turned to find that he had left some time ago.

Twilight read by the fireside; the glowing warmth of the fire gently caressed her back and lit the book in front of her. Her stomach was full from a delicious dinner. She gave a huge sigh of contentedness.

Simon burst in through the door; his face was red. He stomped moodily across the room, to the basement door, and disappeared downstairs.

He was upset about something, again. She gave a huge sigh of frustration.

Simon fumed in his room.

He had to do something.

He wanted to make everything go back to the way it was. He felt distressed, unsafe, and....scared for his pony friends.

Rarity was not who she was three days ago. Her experience with the Diamond Dogs had changed her. They’d changed everything. All his happiness and comfort was sapped away.

With a shaky hand, he reached under his bed, and pulled out a leather strap with a matching holster. His hand was steadied by the comforting weight of his gun. He brushed the straw off his holster and put it on. He took the revolver out of the pouch. He looked at his gun. It was clean and shiny and well-cared for. He opened the chamber: Fully loaded. Nopony knew he had it.

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open. He quickly slipped it into his hidden holster and zipped his jacket. Down the stairs came a hat on top of a pony.

“Sahmon, Twilight says you're upset over what happened to Rarity. Ya got a minute?”

Simon looked at her, rocking on his bed. He looked up to the top of the stairs where he caught a glimpse of Twilight Sparkle slinking away. Applejack trotted over to his bed, and sat on her haunches in front of him.

“Ah know them Diamond Dogs can seem a little scary…” she tried to stifle a laugh under her breath, “But it’s over now: they’re not gonna hurt anypony anymore”

Simon stared at her.

“Ya wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head.

“Well, if y’all need ta talk, remember we’re here for ya!”

Applejack cheerfully ascended the stairs, and closed the door behind her.

Simon reached into his jacket and touched his gun. Applejack meant well, but Simon couldn't stand the idea of dark creatures living just outside these ponies' homes....outside his home, kidnapping and enslaving and taking away their freedoms. He needed to make things normal again.

Twilight entered the room. She smiled down at him awkwardly from the top of the stairs, and said, “Simon...you should know, Princess Celestia is paying a royal visit tomorrow, so… olease try to look nice, alright? Sleep tight, okay?”

She turned away and left. Simon rocked himself. A royal visit would be a perfect oppourtunity to slip away from Ponyville, and do what needed to be done. He slept with his holster on.

Rage

Simon woke up to a purple pony sitting, her head hovering over him. A large smile was spread wide across her face.

“Goooooooood morning, Simon!”

The human sat up in his bed, and backed away from the eerie Twilight Sparkle.

“Do you remember what today is?”

He shook his head.

“Today, Princess Celestia’s visiting us all a royal visit! You get to meet her!”

Twilight reared up on her hind legs and flailed her forehooves in excitement. She landed with a grin plastered on her face,

“Okay, I’ll let you get ready!” she said, and disappeared in a purple flash.

Simon rose out of his bed. As he stretched, he felt his gun and holster tighten around his chest. It was a reminder to him what he planned to do: Destroy the Diamond Dogs, avenge Rarity, and save Ponyville. He hurriedly ascended the stairs, snuck across the library, and slipped out the door.

Simon walked down the dusty path leading to the rock fields. To his left, the glimmering city of Canterlot stood silent in the distance. His only companion was the sound of his breathing.

Something shot past him; he ducked. When he looked up, he saw the glimmering, graceful Princess Celestia galloping in front of him. Her wings were spread, and she was slowing to a canter, then to a halt. Her wings folded neatly to her sides. She carried her momentum around, and trotted up to him.

He looked up at her.

“Good morning!” She said brightly.

Simon nodded.

“What are you doing?”

Simon shrugged.

“Have you been making friends in Ponyville?”

Again, he nodded. He wished he could talk.

“Are we to see you during the casual get-together today?”

Simon nodded.

“Last we spoke, you were quite worried about what you were meant to do in this strange new world. Do you still feel the same way?”

Simon hastily nodded his head; he felt as though he were running out of time.

“Well, then, I hope you can share what you’ve learned with me while I’m here! See you soon!”

Celestia leapt over him and soared towards Ponyville.

Though he had felt hurried just a moment before, Simon was taken by a desire to stay where he was as the glorious white mare flew off toward her subjects. Somewhere, a songbird was chirping sweetly. Had he learned anything about his destiny in Equestria? Had he done anything to affect anyone since he’d arrived? Twilight was still his Angel and saviour, caring for him and asking nothing in return. He’d put weeks of effort into a deep study of Pinkie Pie and her supposed abilities, thoroughly debunking them. But that was just a one-time thing. He’d spent the whole winter writing tomes on everything the human race had achieved, many of which were piled up in Twilight Sparkle’s room. That project had come to nothing special.

What he was doing now...bringing justice to a sick, evil race of monsters, was that what he was meant to do? Simon turned and ran towards the rock flats. He would think about it later.

Twilight Sparkle felt as though she were forgetting something. Sugarcube Corner was a scene of somber excitement. Everypony enjoyed the Cakes’ refreshments and treats, but the brilliant figure of Princess Celestia as she sat at the seat of honour seemed to fill the room with a subtle glow that cast itself upon all the ponies present, and filled them with a reverent unease.

Mr. and Mrs. Cake were on the lookout for any sign of trouble.

Twilight was walking with Pinkie Pie when she noticed something as she passed the front door: A nervous Fluttershy facing the Royal Guards. The Guards had crossed their wings in front of the door to indicate to the yellow Pegasus that she was not allowed in. Fluttershy was dejectedly walking away when Twilight raised her hoof to touch the guards’ outstretched wings and said, “It’s all right, Sirs. She’s on the list”

Without changing expression, the two guards retracted their wings. Fluttershy smiled thankfully at Twilight.

“Thanks, Twilight,” she said as she walked in.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Fluttershy! It wouldn’t be the same without you”

A ding rang out; Spike was in the back, helping the Cakes by using his dragon breath to quickly bake batches of small cakes. He struck a bell each time a tray was ready.

As Mr. Cake strode out of the kitchen carrying the latest batch from Spike on his head, he called out, “How’s everypony doing? Good? Good”

Mrs. Cake was bowing before the Princess herself, “Anything else we can get for you, dearie...oh, I mean, esteemed guest!” She laughed nervously and smiled. Mr. Cake walked up to join his wife. She carried a tray of apple cupcakes balanced on her head.

Princess Celestia bowed her head and smiled with delight, “Everything is fine, Mr. and Mrs. Cake!”

Twilight and Fluttershy walked through the party together. Twilight had a nervous smile plastered across her face.

“Sorry I’m late,” Fluttershy began, “I had to finish taking care of a patient first”

“Oh, you and your tender loving care of little animals. I just know Princess Celestia’s gonna love that about you!” Her eyes shifted, as if she were reconsidering, “I mean, I hope she will” Sweat was pouring down her face, and her eyes were blinking with uncontrollable nervous tics, “I mean, of course she will!” She shot Fluttershy another nervous smile.

Fluttershy was surprised, “Wow, Twilight, I thought I was the only one who got nervous at social gatherings”

“Oh, it’s not that. I just want the Princess to approve of my friends!”

“But...she’s met us all before”

“...and read about you in my letters! But this is the first time she’s spent any real time with you. I want everypony to make a good impression”

“Well, I’m sure you have nothing to worry about! Besides, it’s just a casual get-together, right?”

“Don’t touch me!” Rarity’s voice called out. She was wearing the elegant pink gown she’d designed for herself for the Grand Galloping Gala. “Watch the dress!” As a pony approached her with a teacup, she reared. “Careful! You’re gonna spill that on me!”

Mrs. Cake came by with a tray of cupcakes hanging from her mouth. Rarity looked at them.

“Ooh! That looks delicious! What is it?” Then, with a complete change of tone, “Does it stain?! KEEP IT AWAY FROM ME!” Rarity crouched to the floor and quivered. Twilight and Fluttershy watched.

“...or perhaps not that casual” Fluttershy finished her thought.

Meanwhile, Applejack was at the dining table, her hat off, a bib tied around her neck, ready to eat. Yet she looked at the rich spread of food in front of her with apprehension.

“Uh...Which is the salad n’ which is the appetizer again? And which am I supposed to eat first?”

Applejack shot her neck out to a bowl of leafy vegetables on her left, then stopped. She reached instead for a sandwich on her right, then stopped. She reached for an apple fritter that sat right in front of her, then stopped. She raised her head, and gave up.

“Aw, never mind, I’m not hungry”

She pushed her plate away from herself.

Twilight cringed at Applejack’s struggle with proper table etiquette. Again, Fluttershy tried to reassure her.

“It’s okay, Twilight. So our friends’ manners aren’t perfect. I doubt the princess will even notice”

Before Fluttershy had even finished, Pinkie Pie leapt in front of them.

“Wooohoo! Cupcakes, candy, and pies, oh my!” she said just before she pushed an entire apple pie against the side of her head, splattering crust and apple filling all over her face. Then she sprung up next to the chocolate fondue fountain, and stared longingly at it.
“Oh...chocolate fountainy goodness!”

The pink pony stuck her entire apple-soaked head into the fountain, pulling it out with a rich coat of chocolate. It quickly hardened, cracked, and burst off with Pinkie trying to catch the falling pieces in the air. She chewed happily on the chocolate in her mouth.

Princess Celestia held a cupcake up to her mouth with her horn. Pinkie Pie shot across the length of the table, stopped right in front of the cupcake, and said,
“You gonna eat that?”

Without waiting for an answer, Pinkie nabbed the cupcake out of Celestia’s aura and ate it whole, chewing on it right in front of the smiling Princess Celestia. “MMMM” said Pinkie as she chewed and swallowed.

Mr. and Mrs. Cake gasped in horror. Mrs. Cake shot along the length of the table, catching Pinkie’s tail in her mouth as she sped by.

“HEY!” Pinkie shouted as she was dragged, still sitting, by her tail away from the Princess.

Mr. Cake sped up to the Princess with a fresh cupcake and cup of tea.

“A thousand pardons, your majesty!” he begged nervously. He bowed and backed away.

“That’s quite all right. Thank you”

Celestia took a bite from the cupcake, and a sip from her shallow saucer of tea. It was emptied in one sip. She placed it down on her saucer.

“Empty teacup at four o’clock!” Mrs. Cake called out.

“I see it, honey buns!” Mr. Cake replied, and immediately refilled it with a teapot.

“Oh! Um...thank you” the Princess said with some surprise.

“Not at all, your highness” he replied humbly.

Another sip, and this time Mrs. Cake appeared with a teapot and filled Celestia’s drink while she still held it with her horn.

“Thank you again!” the Princess said cheerfully.

“Oh, but of course your majesty!” Mrs. Cake bowed and said with some excitement.

Another sip. Another refill from Mr. Cake. Another sip. Another refill from Mrs. Cake. Princess Celestia shifted her eyes deviously and made a sipping noise without bringing her teacup to her lips. Mr. Cake immediately poured into her already-full cup, overflowing it.

“Gotcha!” the Princess whispered gleefully at the embarrassed Cakes.

“OOh!” Twilight groaned and sank beneath the table, as if not to be seen. Fluttershy stood next to her, leaning with her forehooves on the table. The Princess turned to them.

“And what about you, dear?” She asked, “Fluttershy, is it?”

“Me?” Fluttershy acknowledged, “Yes, your highness”

“I understand from Twilight Sparkle’s letters that you enjoy tending to the needs of woodland creatures!”
“Yes! I love to take care of animals!”

“As do I. As Princess, I care deeply about all creatures great and small!”

A loud cough burst from the cage next to Celestia, and a burst of tiny, pinkish feathers scattered out of it.

“Nothing means more to me than the well-being of all my subjects!”

The dry hacking and feathers continued to fly. From the bottom of the cage, a pink, fat, tiny, nearly featherless bird fluttered and sat on its perch, its head lolling from one side, as if it were to heavy to keep up.

“Ah! Philomena my pet! You’re awake! Do say hello to our gracious hosts!”

The bird greeted them with another dry, strangling cough and sputter.

Fluttershy’s ears drooped, and her mouth hung open in surprise. “Oh...my…” was all she could say.

“She is quite a sight, isn’t she?” the Princess said with pride.

Fluttershy hid behind the table, “I....I...I’ve n...never seen anything like it”

A royal guard skirted up to the Princess, cleared his throat, and whispered something quietly into her ear.

“Really?” She asked. The guard nodded, “Well...if I must,” she addressed the crowd, “I’m sorry, everypony. I’m afraid I have to cut the party short”

Twilight spat out the tea she was drinking, and covered her mouth with her hoof.

“The mayor has requested an audience with me. Royal duty calls! Thank you for a wonderful time. It’s been a joy getting to know you all better”

With a royal strut, the Princess left with her guard.

Applejack, still seated at the table, sighed, “Phew! Now I can eat somethin’! I’m starved!” She opened her mouth wide to dig into the food before her, but Mr. Cake had cleared the table before Applejack had a moment to blink. “MMMM” she said dejectedly as her ears drooped.

Pinkie Pie cartwheeled out the door, slamming into several ponies on their way out.

“Stay right where you are!” Rarity demanded as she backed towards the door, “All I want is a clear path to the exit! Nobody move, and my dress won’t get hurt! Stay back! Back I say!” She managed to leave without touching anypony.

Applejack left Sugarcube Corner with a whole stack of treats balanced on her nose.

Spike, still wearing a chef’s hat and apron for his work in the kitchen, joined Twilight in the now-empty Sugarcube Corner. Twilight sighed.

“Well, Spike, I don’t know for sure how things went with the Princess, but at least no big disasters happened!”

Meanwhile, the door of Philomena’s cage hung open; it was empty.

Simon Abraham Berkowitz was on the barren, craggy surface of the rock fields. The City of Canterlot loomed in the distance, silent and tiny and still, like a city in a snowglobe. Everything was calm where he stood. He was extremely nervous. He was standing in a den of ruthless, slavering, cruel, evil Diamond Dogs, who could appear out of the ground at any time to drag ponies - or him - to the deep, dark abyss below.

There was a hole in the rocky dirt. It was huge, large enough for a man to pass through. No doubt it was dug by a Diamond Dog. He crouched to inspect it. The hole was deep, and pitch-black. In the dirt-piles around the holes, there were straight, parallel grooves in the dirt. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought they might be claw marks made by the creatures that had dug the hole. He grabbed a clump of dirt, expecting it to disintegrate in his hand when he squeezed it. Instead, the dirt fell away to reveal a smooth, hard surface. He brushed the dirt away to find that he held a giant, yellow jewel, in the shape of a long rectangular prism. It was beautiful, and no doubt extremely valuable. He put it into his jacket pocket. A noise echoed from the hole.

“Hmmm”

Simon jumped away at the startling voice. He stared at the hole in rigid fear. Nothing happened. The voice came again.

“Hmmm?”

The voice sounded like it was right next to him. He looked around frantically; there was nothing around. His heart was pounding. Was he hearing voices?
“Hmmmmmmmm-”

A scratch in his throat sent him into a fit of coughing. Yellow phlegm sprayed out onto the white rock. His neck, head and joints all shook.

“Ughhhh…”

Simon straightened his bent back, wiping his wet mouth with his sleeve.

“AAAAhhhh…”

Before he could look for the source of the voice, he was taken by another fit of coughing, less violent than before. He stayed crouched over and wheezing for a moment. He finally stood up and looked around for the voice.

“Hello?”

He knew that voice; it was familiar, it was comforting.

“Hello!”

It was his own voice.

“HELLO!” he shouted, “HELLOOOOO, WORLD!”

His voice reverberated across the rocky plains, fading into the distance. A crow was startled and flew away.

Simon laughed heartily at the power of his voice. “I am the very model of a modern major-general,” he sang, “I’ve information vegetable, animal and mineral…” He skipped and jumped on the rocks, “I know the Kings of England and I quote the fights historical….”

He skipped and almost ran into a figure standing in front of him. Simon let out a cry of surprise and stumbled back.

It was one of them.

The Diamond Dog wore a tattered red vest, with pockets stuffed with jewels. It looked at him with narrow, green eyes.

Simon stared at it, paralyzed in fear. His mind raced. The Dog was an arm’s-length away from him; there was no way he could get his gun before the dog buried his teeth into his throat.

“Who are you?” it asked gruffly. His ears were flat against his skull and his eyebrows were arched. Simon thought he saw a look of annoyance on his face.

Simon’s mouth trembled.

“Go away!” it barked angrily, with a wave of its paw.

Simon’s body trembled.

“N-no. No!” he finally told the Dog.

The Dog bared his jagged teeth.

“...You come to my home, stamp on the ground above me, give me a headache, make awful noises from your mouth, and won’t leave?”

Simon shook his head. His hands were clenched tightly. The dog growled. He looked at Simon, up and down his body, sizing him up. His eyes caught the yellow diamond in Simon’s pocket. The Dog’s yellow eyes flared in primal rage

“...and you took my GEMS?”

The Dog lunged at him.

Twilight Sparkle breathed a sigh of relief. Everything had worked out: Fluttershy had taken Philomena; and Philomena had run away. In the frantic chase to find and catch her, Philomena had unexpectedly burst into flames. Everypony was certain that Celestia was going to be furious. Instead, the kindly Princess spoke to the pile of ash on the ground. Out of the ashes burst a majestic phoenix: The true Philomena.

Fluttershy was particularly relieved.

“Next time, I’ll ask before taking matters into my own hooves!” Fluttershy told Princess Celestia..

“Should I write you a letter about that lesson, Princess?” Twilight asked.

“...No, that’s quite alright” Celestia said as the newly-reborn Philomena landed on her back, “I think I can remember”

Philomena took off and soared over Princess Celestia and her two pony subjects. A bright red feather landed neatly in Fluttershy’s mane and stood atop her head like a decoration.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Philomena!” she said, “No hard feelings!”

As the two guards stood by Philomena’s cage, Rainbow Dash watched them, and came up with an idea. She flew up to the soaring Philomena, and whispered something in her ear. The phoenix nodded. She landed atop her cage, between the two stone-faced guards, spread her wings, and started brushing her feathers against their noses. The two guards tried to maintain composure, but quickly fell victim to ticklish laughter. Philomena rose up to meet Rainbow Dash, and her wing slapped Rainbow’s hoof.

“Yeah!” shouted Rainbow Dash. Before long, everypony was laughing.

Twilight Sparkle was overflowing with relief as she walked down the streets of Ponyville with her mentor. The day had been exhausting, and Twilight was happy to finally have a word with her teacher in private.

“Twilight, it means so much to see how far you’ve come; you see now how important Friendship and Harmony are to the safety and happiness of all of Equestria?”

“I do, Princess. I wouldn’t leave my Ponyville friends for anything!”

“I’m sure of it. But Twilight, you will find that some friendships are much harder than others. I trust you will find even in the face of greatest adversity, that you won’t abandon those you love and care about”

Twilight was perplexed by this strange assertion, “Princess?” she asked.

“I understand you have one more friend you’d like to introduce me to”

Twilight Sparkle’s blood ran cold.

“WHERE’S SIMON?!”

Twilight Sparkle’s heart was pounding; she’d never run as long or as fast in her life. Fear drove her forward; fear that her human was trapped, alone, or scared deep in the Diamond Dogs’ den. She should have paid attention! In hindsight, it was so clear what her Simon had been planning to do! As the sweat beaded on her forehead, she clenched her teeth and tried to coax more speed from her muscles.

The roads and houses of Ponyville disappeared behind her. She raced through quiet open meadows, green except for the occasional rock or tree. As she raced onward, the trees became shorter and fewer, while the rocks taller and more frequent. Everything became jagged, gray rock. At last, she rounded a rock and before her was a wide open space, marked by a short drop. Standing in the middle of the space, a few hundred paces away, there were two figures. At first, Twilight couldn’t tell which figure was which, since both were dirty, bloody, bruised and growling.

Simon and the Diamond Dog both crouched defensively, moving in a slow circle around each other. His shirt was torn and bloody. His face was black and bruised; his left eye was nearly swollen shut. His right sleeve was missing beneath his elbow, and the exposed skin of his forearm was shining crimson.

The Diamond Dog was covered in the dust and dirt kicked up from the fight. Its mouth and claws were sharp and bloody. Its chest had bruised outlines of boot prints on it.

As Twilight watched the horrific display, she was frozen and helpless but to watch.

Simon pulled his fist back and flung it across the gap between them. The Diamond Dog stepped aside easily, and Simon’s stumbled forward with the weight of the punch. The Dog quickly grasped Simon from behind, and sunk his teeth deep into his shoulder.

Simon’s scream echoed throughout the rocky quarry; it shocked Twilight Sparkle out of her stupor. Her horn lighted and she disappeared.

The Diamond Dog released its bite, and let go of Simon. The human fell forward limply and collapsed face-down on the ground with a dead thud. The Dog was filled with primal, base instinct. The intruder and thief was beaten. He now had only to finish the job. He opened his jaws wide and made for the human’s neck.

There was a loud noise and a blinding flash. When his eyes cleared, he was looking down the horn of a unicorn pony. Startled, the Dog backed away. Twilight Sparkle had materialized standing astride Simon’s body, with her neck lowered and her horn raised. She looked at the Diamond Dog squarely in the eye as her horn pointed squarely at his head.The two were locked in a staredown, motionless as they waited for the other to make a move. Twilight’s tail brushed the back of Simon’s neck. He stirred at the sensation. His hand reached to his chest, and unhooked his gun from its holster, but as he tried to lift it, his fingers gave out and it dropped to the ground. Simon fumbled for it, but eventually fell back into unconsciousness.

Twilight tensed her muscles. Her breathing was shallow and quick. As she looked into the eyes of the Diamond Dog, she saw a dumb, mangy monster that wanted to hurt someone she loved. Her jaw clenched. Her whole body shook. Her horn lit; she was primed to use it: One quick burst to end her foe…

The Diamond Dog’s countenance shifted slightly, minutely. Then she saw something in the Diamond Dog’s expression, something she recognized: it was fear. Her rage quickly shriveled at the horror she had almost committed. She continued to point her horn at the Dog’s face. The Dog’s eyes began to silently beg.

“Leave,” she finally growled. Without hesitation, the Dog turned and dove down the nearest hole in the ground.

Twilight Sparkle swayed as she stood alone in the field of rock. She had never felt so much hatred or anger before. She felt cold. She took a deep breath, and turned around to see her human. He wasn’t moving. Immediately all instinct and feeling dissolved into panic. She rounded his body and stood above his head.

“Simon! Can you hear me?”

Simon stirred, raising his head to look up at her. A spurt of blood shot out of Simon’s shoulder and splattered all over Twilight Sparkle’s face.

“Oh!” Twilight shouted and backed away. She wiped the thick, warm fluid out of her eyes. Simon fell back to the ground.

Twilight Sparkle approached him and lay down beside him.

“Please, Simon…” she begged. He gave quiet moan.

What could she do?

An idea came into her head; it came from deep inside her mind, and yet it seemed familiar, innate, natural.

Again she rounded Simon’s body, and lined herself up with his. She dropped down so that her chest was on the hard, rocky ground.

“Get on my back” she told him.

Simon’s eyes rolled up to meet hers.

“Do it!”

With an agonizing grunt Simon lifted his arm over Twilight’s neck. His leg found her flank and painfully lifted itself over her back and to the other side. Twilight shifted under him to hold him up. With a few more adjustments, he was mounted.

“Hold on”

Twilight pushed her body, and Simon, off the ground. He was heavy; but she was a pony, and she bore the burden with ease.

With her friend on her back, Twilight rode in the direction of Ponyville.

Dr. Horse sat in his empty office, tapping his hoof against his desk. He’d been at it for hours. The hospital’s administrator thought he was working on a case, but he’d lied about that.

Cases were invariably boring. He was the greatest doctor in all of Equestria, masterfully versed not only in pony anatomy, but also in the chemistry of the pony body and its interactions with pony medicine; in the physics of foreign bodies in the pony’s bloodstream, where such objects would be likely to end up, and what the symptoms would be.

Nothing was a mystery to Dr. Horse. He’d extended his knowledge to the donkey, cow and gryphon anatomies. No patient had entered in years who had offered his intellect any kind of challenge. With his tiny, nearly-shattered horn, he reached for a bottle of pills.

Dr. Horse was in the hospital lobby, heading out for lunch, a knapsack slung over his shoulder. He was about to walk out the hospital doors when a purple unicorn burst in. On her back was something that caught his attention. The unicorn ran right past him; Dr. Horse had always eschewed wearing a doctor’s coat to avoid having to talk to patients.

“Please, sir! Ma’am! Somepony! Help me!”

A testy nurse called out from behind the front desk, “Miss, we don’t treat pets. You’ll have to go to the vet”

“He’s not a pet! Please, you have to help me!” her voice became more shrill, and her eyes became tearful.

Dr. Horse approached her.

“What have you got?”

The purple pony turned to him, and exclaimed graciously, “Thank you, sir! His name’s....”

“Don’t care,” he growled, as he lifted the human’s arm and inspected his hands, “Hmm. Five digits....” He twisted the human’s fifth digit and rolled it around. “Opposable...probably some kind of primate. How old is he?”

“Uhhh...th-thirty something” She stuttered at the doctor’s imposing and intense figure.

“MMM...interesting” said the Doctor. A smile crept into his expression.

Dr. Horse tried to lift the human off the pony’s back, but his wilted horn couldn’t bear the weight.

“I need some help over here! I’ve got a bum horn!” He called out into the lobby.

With the authority of a doctor, suddenly the nurses sprang into action. A gurney was produced from nowhere, and the load was lifted off Twilight Sparkle’s back. As Simon was raised, Dr. Horse was sprayed with blood.

“Get him into surgery! Stat! We’ve got to stop the bleeding!”

“Horse!!” called a voice.

The Hospital’s Administrator stood in the doorway to the Operating Room, blocking the nurses and the human.

Dr. Horse limped up around the gurney, approaching the Administrator.

“Get out of the way” he shouted across the lobby.

“Have you ever heard the word ‘ethics’? You’re a pony doctor. You have no licence, no training to treat that...whatever it is....”

Dr. Horse reached the Administrator, stopping inches from her nose. He towered over her by half a foot.

“...And nopony else does, either. I can guarantee you nopony has ever seen anything like this creature before, and I’m the closest thing to a doctor this thing can have. Now how is it ethical to turn it out into the street?”

The Administrator broke eye contact with him, and looked worriedly past him.

“...I can do this!” he insisted.

She looked back to him, this time with worry in place of sternness. The Administrator rolled her eyes, but stepped aside. The nurses and the doctor rushed through into surgery.

Twilight Sparkle sat by her unconscious human. His face was torn, swollen, and contorted in pain. The doctors had done all they could to stop the bleeding, but it was impossible to know what would happen, given their limited knowledge of his physiology.

The doctors were also hesitant to prescribe any painkillers, not knowing how he’d react. Twilight used her magic to put him to sleep, but his face still told the story of great agony.

Had everything he’d done in the past nine months been a lie? Was this his true nature, to want to kill his fellow creatures and bring misery and fear to his friends? What was he? She remembered how she’d felt when she’d been face-to-face with the Diamond Dog, and the desire she’d felt to completely destroy it. She shuddered. She was scared, confused, and ashamed of how she’d felt, and what she’d wanted to do. Was that how Simon felt? Did being his friend mean she had to feel this way? And what about Zecora’s warnings about the evils of humanity, or Simon’s own writings on the atrocities they’d committed? Was she harming the world by continuing their existence? The endless stream of questions made her stomach turn.

A hoof fell lightly on her shoulder. Startled, she gasped and turned to see Princess Celestia towering above her. Scared and vulnerable as she felt, Twilight buried her face into her mentor’s strong broad chest in a deep embrace. Tears were streaming down her face.

“Oh, Princess, I’m so scared!”

The Princess returned her embrace. When Twilight pulled away from her mentor, she cringed: The blood on her face had left a crimson stain on the Princess’ pristine coat.

Princess Celestia looked down at her student with sad eyes. She said, “My dear Twilight, when Simon entered your life, you were scared because you thought he was a senseless killer. But you soon learned that there was more to him”

Before Twilight’s eyes, Celestia levitated a strange metal object. It was a long metal tube with a handle attached. Twilight shied away from it fearfully, even though she didn’t have the faintest idea what it was.

“Twilight, I wouldn’t wish this on anypony if there were any other way, but this must be your choice”

Celestia levitated the object to Simon’s pile of ruined clothes. Buried under the tattered, bloody remains of his jacket was a strange leather strap with a long pouch. The metal object slid neatly into it.

“Never underestimate the power of Friendship, Twilight. With it, you can heal all wounds, and right all wrongs” Celestia said softly, with a glance at Simon.

Twilight panted; her muscles ached, her legs felt like they could give out any minute.

Twilight slipped away from Simon’s bedside and went to the bathroom. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she stared: Her face was smeared with dark blood; her mane was tangled and knotted and smeared with more blood; her back, where Simon had sat, was filthier still. Her cutie mark was stained with a streak of red. She quickly levitated a white towel, soaked it in the sink, and rubbed her face vigorously. Her face was clean, but her face was still twisted with terror. She wrung the towel out as best she could, and brought it to her mane. She pulled at the strands of hair, glued together with blood, and much of it pulled away. But her mane felt tangled and heavy; the pink streak in her mane was eclipsed by a dark splotch. She began to smell it. She wrung the towel out again, and scrubbed her back. Here the blood refused to wash out: It was bound to the hair of her coat. Her purple, soft coat was now knotted, rough and brown. She wrung the towel out a third time, and brought it to her flank. She rubbed and rubbed at the stain on her cutie mark, but the blood would not yield. Her cutie mark - one of her most cherished things in all the world - was tainted. She tried to wring out the towel a fourth time, but the white towel was now a hopeless red rag, and the white porcelain of the bathroom sink was a bowl of crimson.
Twilight Sparkle felt dizzy. She sank to the cold floor of the hospital bathroom, curled into a ball, and cried.

Princess Celestia returned to Canterlot. As she walked the halls of her glorious castle, she was stopped by her sister. The two glorious alicorn pony princesses stood beneath the otherworldly light of a stained-glass window. The pony of the night looked at her sister with accusing eyes.

“What do you want of him?” she asked, “What is so important about him that you must burden an innocent pony with such darkness?”

“My dear sister, the path I hope for Twilight will be filled with such burdens. If she doesn’t learn now how to treat a friend who has lost their way…”

The Princess looked up at the window casting the light they basked in. Princess Luna followed her gaze. The window depicted a scene of a dark pony being cast by her sister into the moon for a millennium.

“...she may not know what to do”

As Twilight Sparkle grieved and worried, Simon was far away.

He opened his eyes on his bed in his house in New Jersey. He sat up and looked out the window; outside was plain white glow. There were no traffic noises, no wind rustling through trees, and no footsteps on the outside pavement; the stillness was unsettling. He looked to the opposite corner of the door; Mimi was curled up in her bed, looking at him with her intelligent eyes. He rose from his bed and went over to her; she sat up. He scratched the top of her head, running the thick wool on the top of her head between his thumb and fingers.She lifted her nose and nuzzled his arm. Mimi was just as Simon remembered.

The sound of porcelain echoed from the kitchen downstairs. Simon followed the sound. The clicking of nails against the hard floor behind him told him that Mimi was with him. He entered the kitchen to find Max at the table eating a bowl of cereal. Simon rounded the table to the chair opposite his friend, sat down, and smiled. Max didn’t look up. Max was just as Simon remembered.

“Am I dead?” he asked.

Max didn’t look up as he said, “I dunno”.

Simon chuckled at Max’s familiar demeanor. Mimi laid down on the floor beside him. The three of them sat in silence together, Simon stroking Mimi’s hair. It felt so familiar and comfortable, he wanted the moment to last forever. Deep inside, something told him it couldn’t.

“Do I have to go back?” he asked aloud.

“Yes” Max replied, looking up at Simon with an expressionless face.

Simon didn’t want to go back.

“What’s going to happen?”

“Some bad things; some good things” Max replied with his usual bluntness.

Then, without warning, Max stood up; it was time to go.

The two men and dog walked down the solemn grey hallway to the house’s front door. Simon turned to face the friends he once knew one last time. He nodded at Max, who nodded back. He bent down to face Mimi. He stroked her head, and she licked his palm.

Then, Simon rose, turned, and put his hand on the doorknob. The room disappeared in a flash of light.

An Open Letter to the Inhabitants of Earth

TRANSMISSION
TRANSMISSION HEADER
Transmission Sent: 16 May, 2089, 23:06 UTC
Encryption Level 0
END TRANSMISSION HEADER
TRANSMISSION CONTENT

An Open Letter to the Inhabitants of Earth

This message is freely readable to anyone who receives it.

My name is Simon. I am broadcasting this message from my ship at the edge of our solar system. At midnight, I shall enter long-term stasis for fifty years. I will spend two years on my destination planet and, if all goes well, I shall return after another fifty years.

This is my last chance to communicate with the currently-living inhabitants of Earth.

Due to various operational protocols, I was not in stasis during my six-month journey out to the edge. This has given me much time to think, and I'd like to take this last opportunity to share my thoughts with whomever is willing to listen.

I admit that I face what lies ahead with no small amount of trepidation. I am, after all, completely alone up here, save for the on-board Artificial Intelligence, who much prefers discussing technical rather than human troubles.
Being the only member of this expedition means I must play several roles: I must be a biologist, cartographer, goodwill ambassador and chronologist. Considering my Masters is in Pure Mathematics, and that I've worked the last five years as a programmer, this is quite a daunting list of skills I've had to learn!

I am honoured to be among the first of our species to reach beyond our cosmic neighbourhood, a symbol of our insatiable desire to understand the Universe and explore the limits of what is possible. But I ask myself, is this desire alone the essence of our greatness? I've always felt that the miracle of Apollo 13, a miracle manufactured by man, far outshines the mere success of Apollo 11, and I've always believed that Ernest Shackleton's amazing journey to save the lives of his entire crew showed in him more nobility than he ever could have by crossing the Antarctic. Perhaps it is not just our ambition, but our devotion to each other when our ambitions go too far, that makes humans capable of anything and willing to try. If we care not for each other, then for whom do we perform such amazing feats? Perhaps Icarus' problem wasn't that he flew too high, but rather that he had no one to catch him when he fell.

As my next two years, the loneliest and most dangerous two years I will ever face, stretch before me, I cannot help but ask myself why I chose to do this. I've always wanted my life to have meaning. I've always wanted to be someone important. At the same time, I've never wanted to owe my accomplishments to anybody. As a result, I've done things on my own most of my life. Now I am twenty-nine years old, and in my thirtieth year, I've come to understand why my elders keep saying that no man is an island. Two years ago, when my dog of sixteen years died and I became aware that most of my friends had drifted away over time, I found I didn't even have the strength to get out of bed in the morning. I felt that I was of no use to anyone, and my opportunities to fulfill my ambition to do something of fundamental importance were dwindling. I think that's part of the reason why I chose this lonely mission: For all it's adversity, this mission will allow me to revel in the glory of being a true pioneer. If I could do it again, I think I would rather have just held on to my friends.

As I look at my monitor and watch the pale blue dot that is our home recede away from me, I am filled with longing. I hope to return to my little island of life, greeted with open arms by the sons and daughters of today. I hope there will still be a place for me on Earth.

Farewell,
Simon X.

END TRANSMISSION CONTENT
END TRANSMISSION

Awakening (Stupid April Fool's Chapter)

"There's no place like home. There's no place like home..."
"Wake up, Simon. It's mommy, darling" said a familiar voice.
Simon opened his heavy eyes. He was in a rustic old room that he recognized instantly. He was in Kansas, in his old family house. The year was 1936. The headache-inducing colours were gone. Everything was in sepia. It brought a tear to Simon's eye.
His mother and father stood over him, grinning with relief.
"You had malaria and Spanish flu at the same time, but you're all better now"
Simon stuttered in disbelief. He'd dreamed he'd lived thirty years of his life in the far, far distant future. He'd gone places and seen incredible things. It had felt so real.
Their next door neighbour, Miss Oliver, appeared at the bedroom window at that moment.
"Well, he seems all right now!"
"Yes" said his father, "we thought for a while he was going to leave us"
"but I did leave you, father. That's just the trouble. And I tried to get back for days and days!"
"There there, lie quiet now. You just had a bad dream"
His mother left his side. His three sisters came in.
"Remember me, Tara?"
"Ashleigh?"
"You couldn't forget my voice, could you?" asked Andrea.
"No. But it wasn't a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you...and you were there"
The four women chuckled.
"But you couldn't have been, could you?"
"We dream lots of silly things when we..."
"No, mother. This was a real, truly live place. And I remember some of it wasn't very nice. But the rest of it was beautiful. But just the same all I ever said to anyp.... anybody was "I wanna go home", and they sent me home!"
The people around him laughed nervously.
"Doesn't anybody believe me?"
"Of course we believe you, Simon"
"But anyway, Al, we're home!" Simon picked up the little Terrier, "And this is my home, and you're all here. And I'm not going to leave here ever ever again. Because I love you all. Oh mother. There's no place like home!"

NOT edited by KeatsLocksley. In fact, not subjected to any form of critical analysis whatsoever

Rescue (APRIL FEWLZ!)

Rescue (APRIL FEWLZ!)

An explosion jolted Simon awake. He sat bolt upright in his bed. The sun was up, the basement was brightly lit, and there was a woman in his room standing before him. She spoke into a walkie-talkie,

“Hostage located. He’s okay”
“Roger” came the crackled reply.

She was nearly six feet tall, and shapely. She was fair-skinned, with long dirty blond hair. She wore a black beret. Her olive-green shirt was far too small, displaying both her navel and a generous amount of cleavage. She wore black tights, and black thigh-high spike-heel boots. She held a long, menacing-looking firearm.

Simon rose from his bed, reached out, and touched her arm. She was real. She was soft.

“Come on” she said with a faint British accent, “We have to go before the big one sees us”

Simon turned around, reached under his bed, and retrieved his hidden gun and holster. Then he obediently followed the woman upstairs.

In the main room of the library, Simon stopped and looked at the stairs to Twilight’s room.

“Don’t worry, I took care of her. And her little dragon, too” said the woman, reading his thoughts. Simon thought he smelled a whiff of gunpowder.

Outside awaited a small black helicopter, rotors still turning.

“Get in!” the woman ordered, and hoisted herself in through the open side. Simon looked around. Ponyville looked deserted.

“Get in!” she repeated, and grabbed Simon’s arm. Simon complied, and pulled himself up into the body of the helicopter.

Ponyville descended away beneath and behind them, as the helicopter raced away, heading South.

“We’ve never pulled an operation so close to their capitol” said the woman, as the city of Canterlot passed out of sight.

Her hand was still holding his. She squeezed it.

“My name’s Ellen” she said, “What’s yours?”

With his free hand, he pointed to the name on his breast.

“Simon” Ellen read aloud, “I like it”

Author's Note

Coming Soon: "Last 2: Simon's Revenge!"
Sorry, kids, it'll be rated Mature for Sex and Gore!