They say she was born born in free fall, and that she was flying before they could reach a hospital. That the clouds themselves hailed the occasion, and ever since have cleared themselves when she goes by. Legend has it that on her first birthday she raced a shout and won. And on her second, lightning. She is in the greatest epics of old, the ones of Princesses, dreams, and villains. By her work Equestria was saved many times.
But those are just stories.
She was from the start, a rebel. She didn't have to listen to anyone. She was the best from the start, and she knew it. She would push herself to no end, and for no reason stop. All those around her only slowed her, they were not the best, and they by no means should matter to her. But deep inside, through skin and muscled, bone and marrow, heart and soul, a solitary flame flickered like a match in the wind. At her core lived a flame, a small one, but a fire all the same. She was no hero, and she would not protect the innocent against all odds. It was not a fire of passion or give all to save some. But what kept it going, what kept the soft glow going was a sense of justice. Though there have been times when she could not find the light, it kept her going. And this small flame light the bonfire of her mind, her core principle, the essence of her being. It light the fire.
The fire of Loyalty.
And this fire lead her through the darkest of times. Stories of her bravery and strength flow from the tongs of all the great of story tellers. But the greatest ones tell of her Loyalty, and her morals that stem from it. How she would protect her friends, and stand by them for all the days that she lived. I've heard that she lived on, beyond the lives of her closest friends. There are tales of her flying around the globe to see lost friends, and to mend broken bonds. Tales of two close friend come now and again, friends that had called forth the fire in her heart, and that came back. Friends who were lost, but were drawn back to world.
But those tales are of the Blue Moon.
But they are not the only tales of finding. From the beginning of her legacy another came to fame. The Little One. Tales of a filly lost in a valley, alone and cold, sorrowful and tired, ambitious but lost, then she came, and lead her to a new life of happiness. And that for her alone, she gave all, and protected.
The Little One alone held her true Loyalty.
But her live was devoted to another cause as well. At no time did she abandon who she was: the best, the fastest, and the truest. Her dreams lived on, and she became a Great, the Greatest. And she lead the Great into new found glory. But even the stories of the Great have past, no pony speaks of their Valor alone, only with her stories. What happened to those ponies, those of which there are no stories? Perhaps their tales are out there.
Stories of the Forgotten.
Her mistakes are also fables of the wise. Times that from all sides howling gusts attacked the flame, tales of rivers that beat at her, a nut to be cracked until she was nothing more than a shell. Of times where her shadow stretched farther than her light. But only the wise repeat them. For the wise can see that they are but fools who remember. The foolish do not remember, but tell anyways.
She was wise, and remembered.
Equestria is different now. The sun rises by battle, and the moon by war. They say they are heavier now, with the weight of all those they have lost. When your life is eternal how do you live? There are those who search it and find their treasure, only to walk the world and tell of their fate. Perhaps those are the wise ones, the givers of the tales.
Those that were there and live on to share with the world.
One story teller of pink said that she lives on in the sky, and that Rainbows are belts that she and her stallion wear to always be near. Though she only tells to the youngest, and perhaps sugar hangs over her words. I have heard of one tale she spoke to the ears of the grown, one of a close friend, one who is gone. But in our dreams she lives on, and her sister, that so long as friendship lives, will never die. And from in our dreams she lives and spread joy through them, and so long as there's a dream she will smile. Her sister lives against enmity, and as long as love lives, love will grow.
But Equestria has changed.
I have been told that years, decades, generations, centuries, eons ago my oldest recorded ancestor roamed this land, and flew in these skies. And that this one whose stories live is my antecedent. That so long as my family lives on, she will. Through the generations her fire has passed, her Loyalty. And true love as well, for so long as Loyalty lives in your heart, the door will always be open to love. And for her the door was open wide for a long time before someone entered. I wish of all the stories for that one to be true, for I am still waiting. Though my mother brought fame to our name, not by heritage, but by achievement, I still wait. Others wait on me as well, to follow in my mother's hoofsteps and expand on ill gotten land, but I shall not. They say my name has been passed down since the daughter of Loyalty, and that by failing to do so I am bringing shame to it. But I don't feel that way, I feel that from they sky she smiles on me, that her blessing is on my decision, and in my dreams that the Pony of Dreams tells me to listen to my heart, that I am doing well by my name.
The pink story teller says that she knows tales of my name sake, and that I would be doing her proud.
My name sake
Scootaloo.
