There is neither a beginning nor an end. But, the wind that rose from the Crystal Mountains was a beginning. It descended from it's lofty heights and rushed south. It passed a large city that towered from it's own peak. Finally, it slowed over the plains it now crossed, before the wind whipped around a particular filly. Who shuddered from the sudden rush of cold air.
The day was bright and warm in Ponyville. Two fillies, Emerald Wreath and Vanilla Patch were playfully bombarding random objects in a rocky field with their brand new catapult. Emerald Wreath was a unicorn with a light emerald coat, a long and well-brushed dark-green mane, and soft blue eyes. She held a hoof to shade her eyes as she searched for a new target. Vanilla Patch, an earth pony with a pale yellow coat, blue green-streaked mane, and sky-blue eyes, was loading the catapult's tray with a large rock.
“See that dead tree over there?” said Emerald.
Vanilla Patch looked where Emerald was pointing then replied with a quick, “Yep.”
“Prepare to fire!” Emerald commanded.
Vanilla Patch, made static noises with her mouth, as if speaking into a voice-transferring device. “This is Captain Vanilla Patch relaying to Colonel Emerald Wreath. Beginning countdown for projectile number twenty-seven now. Over. Firing in Three...Two...One... Firing!”
The rock is released from the catapult and flies through the air and smacks the dead tree. It quivers from the force of the projectile. Emerald and Vanilla high-hoof and cheer after they hit their target.
“I can’t believe we actually hit our target!” Vanilla leaped with joy.
Emerald Wreath rolled her eyes, “Hey, I could have hit that stump! The sun was just in my eyes. It threw off my aim!”
Vanilla quickly smiled and began to look for a new victim. The two of them had spent nearly the whole morning taking shots at everything in sight, but so far, they had only managed to hit the dead tree. The field was littered with failed attempts. Vanilla squinted when the sun gave a glare off an object to her left.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“That! That thing over there. It’s really shiny.” Vanilla Patch points to it. Whatever it was, It had been half buried in the dirt, but the metallic surface poked out, and gleamed in stark contrast to the ground.
“Help me dig it out, Van.”
The two approached the mysterious object and dug at the dirt around the object. They uncovered a large, flat metallic object. The edges were tarnished with rust, and adorned in the center was an unidentifiable symbol. It appeared to be a knife facing down, with a purple six-pointed star held on the inside, but the fillies had no idea what it could mean.
“It... It looks like some sort of shield,” said Vanilla.
“What the hay is a shield doing out here?”
“I have absolutely no idea, but I bet I know who does! Let’s bring this to Grandpa Wordsworth!”
The two fillies lifted up the shield together-it’s heavier than it looks-and carried it out of the field, taking one of Ponyville’s many dirt roads on the outskirts of town. After some time, they reached Grandpa Wordsworth’s house on the corner of Old Berry Street. Vanilla Patch knocks on the door. Slowly, the door opens revealing Grandpa Wordsworth.
The old stallion's white coat was ragged and his blue eyes had weighty bags. His mane was grey, but perhaps it had been a different color when he was more youthful. Wordsworth's tired and ancient voice greeted the young ponies, “Ah, hello, little fillies! What brings you here now? I hope you didn’t bring me any elderberries. They give me terrible gas!” He chuckled a bit at that.
“No, Grandpa. We found this shield!” said Vanilla who accidentally dropped the shield with a dull thud.
“We were out in the western rock field when we found it buried in the ground,” chipped in Emerald.
The two fillies parted to reveal their prize to Grandpa Wordsworth. He squinted down at it and mumbled to himself for a moment, and then suddenly gave a frightened, “Gah!” He tapped the shield with his hoof cautiously, as if the shield might come alive and bite him. Emerald Wreath frowned at Vanilla Patch, who shrugged. Wordsworth quickly grabbed the shield in his mouth before motioning them follow him. Emerald and Vanilla dash inside.
The inside of Grandpa Wordsworth's house was not far from Grandpa Wordsworth himself. A rustic country appeal. Grandly shaped furniture. Wallpaper that was showing signs of peeling at the corners. Artifacts from days long past and pictures of ponies that he must have known.
Wordsworth stopped in what appeared to be the study. He turned back to the two fillies, forgetting that he still had the shield in his mouth. “You 'ave no i'ea 'at 'is is 'o you?”
Both Emerald and Vanilla looked sorely confused. Then Wordsworth, realizing he just spoke with the shield in his mouth, grinned sheepishly and set it down before repeating, "You have no idea what this is do you?" But, he received nearly the same reaction, to which he promptly began to show some frustration.
“I never told you the stories? My goodness, I thought I told those to everypony at least fifty times already!” he exclaimed. “Do you fillies have any plans for this afternoon?
"Well, we do have our catapult, but it's not going anywhere," noted Vanilla.
“I’d like to tell you both the tales of my adventures with the Hearts.”
Emerald gags, “The Hearts?”
Wordsworth just chuckled, “Oh, these are far from sappy love stories little one." He straightened his back and made himself appear less feeble with each passing word, "They are full of action, excitement, nitty-gritty, hoof-biting moments that will keep you on the edge for days to come! You'll have dreams that will be full of courage from my tales when I'm through!”
The little fillies’ eyes became more focused on Wordsworth with each passing word, their grins grew wide and full. Wordsworth noticed this and smiled.
“So, are you ready to listen?”
Both the fillies rocket into the air, “Yes, yes! Tell us the stories, Grandpa!”
Wordsworth meandered over to his sitting chair and picked up a glass of cider from the nearby table. He took his seat and gave a sigh. The fillies, seemingly in a trance, sat in front of him eagerly awaiting him to begin.
Author's Note
Caution: You have been infected with "Adventuring Syndrome".
Chapter 1 - Preparing for Adventure!
Wordsworth voice lost it's frailty as he sat up straight and began his tale, “I was studying one day in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, in the eastern courtyard. That is where Celestia performs the annual Summer Sun Celebration for Canterlot every year." He paused for a moment. "That's when I found 'The Book'!" He nearly lost himself in his thoughts, smiling at the sweet memory.
He continued, "It was an amazing adventure that was held within it's pages. So much so, that I found that I’d had enough of bowing to the whims of my parents’ dreams... Whatever they were. I've forgotten. I decided that I’d do something... Something awesome! I'd decided to have an adventure of my own.”
Emerald Wreath was so full of excitement that her face beamed. “What were you going to do?”
Wordsworth responded with vigor, “Get dirty! An upstanding gentlecolt like me had no place in adventure. I knew that I wanted it, but there was no sense in getting lost in the Everfree, only to run out screaming and crying like a blubbering baby bunny. So, I had to learn adventuring before the adventure.”
Wordsworth, albeit much younger, was in the eastern courtyard of Celestia’s School reading, “Magical Quarks and their Formations in the Galaxy,”. He had a pale blue-gray mane and tail, which supplemented his white coat. His trusty brown saddlebags were strapped to his waist so that when the bell tolled, he would be ready to go quickly. He gave an exasperated sigh, softly closed the book and stuffed it into his saddlebag. Before closing the bag, Wordsworth noticed the title of another book in his saddlebag. “‘The Dungeons of Hoofington Manor?’ I don't remember borrowing that one,” he mused to himself. He opened the red binding to the first page, but was unable to locate an author, or any other identifying marks. He checked some of the few first and final pages, but no author was to be found.
Wordsworth wouldn't have a chance to find out anything more, the bell tolled and he needed to get to class.
That evening, as Wordsworth entered his room and closed the door. He looked at the candle on his nightstand and focused his magic. A mystical blue aura formed around the wick, lighting it. The mysterious book was still in his saddlebag when he took it out. It’s unopened pages gave him an eerie feeling in the bottom of his stomach. Something he had never felt before. But his curiosity got the better of him and he opened it up as he laid on his bed.
It started like any other book, giving a baseline for the reader, but soon the characters were doing things he had never heard of. Traps and monsters waylaid them on their journey into the depths of the manor, making their impending doom seemingly so inevitable that he found himself giving a, “Woohoo!”, when they unexpectedly escaped it.
Wordsworth’s puffy eyes did not notice the dim rays of sunshine leaking through the window the next morning until the last words had been read. He rolled onto his back hugging the book. “I love adventure!” he giggled. “I love it, I love it, I love it!”
Wordsworth laid siege to the fantasy section of the Canterlot Archives. Reading, “Beyond the Everfree”, “Mythical Creatures of the Deep”, "Buffalo Bill", and a famous book series he had never heard of, “Daring Do.” He became so wrapped up in the books, that he never noticed a particular purple mare that was absorbed in the same series as well, from just across the table. “Daring Do, Wordsworth?” came a soft voice that startled Wordsworth out of his trance. He looked up to see Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia’s prodige, sitting right across from him.
Twilight was in his same class, but he never saw her do much besides reading. She was giving him a smile that looked a tad forced, cute even.
“Uh, yeah, I just got interested in, uhh, books recently,” he replied a bit flustered, adding a sheepish grin.
Twilight continued on, “It’s a great series! In one of them... Well, I don’t want to spoil it! But, it’s a heart-pounding situation that she gets herself into. And don’t worry, when you get to the part where she is about to sacrifice the innocent animals, she finds a way to save them instead.” She threw her hooves down on the table emphasizing one particular episode that she knew Wordsworth had already read. She babbled for a little while after that, but then Twilight noticed the sun’s descent and made a mad dash for the library door, shouting something about saving Equestria. Which left Wordsworth, who was in a bit of a daze, alone with his thoughts and his books. He noticed that he bore a slight smile on his face.
“Hrmph... When do we get to the good stuff?" complained Emerald Wreath, "I thought you said that this wasn't a love story. Where’s the action?”
Wordsworth blinked, “Don’t you worry, it’s coming... I have to give you at least some idea of what happens beforehand, or you won't understand why things happen the way they do.”
Vanilla Patch had a mischievous smile, “Grandpa, did you have a crush on Twilight?”
Wordsworth blinked again before he realized what Vanilla had just asked him, “Ahem! Quiet down, I’m telling the story.”
Wordsworth took a deep breath before opening his parents’ letter. He had written about his changing lifestyle to them and his desire to leave the school. He refused to read it until he bathed, so he placed it on the nightstand. He had previously been rolling around in the mud and rain, just to experience it, so his coat was caked with dried mud. And that was after he got all sweaty from his new workout routine he had implemented. He felt quite disgusting, but exhilarated.
He washed down his coat, dried himself with his magic, and brushed out his mane. “That wasn’t so bad,” he mumbled to himself. "I ought to get muddy more often." Then, remembering the letter on the nightstand. He picked it up with his magic and began to read.
Our dear Wordsworth,
We are disappointed in your decision to leave. We had hoped that you would change your mind when you stated your intentions. But it is apparent there is no convincing you.
We will still be in Fillydelphia should you require assistance or decide that your foalish ideas must come to an end.
Sincerely,
Mom & Dad
Wordsworth shook his head and deposited the letter into the waste bin. No, he was not going to give up on his need for a heart-pounding adventure. "And may Celestia save anypony who stands in my way!" he murmured.
Wordsworth starting packing his saddlebags, but paused when he saw the map. Earlier that day he had found a map of Equestria, where would he start? Certainly somewhere nopony had been before. He saw plenty of clouds covering the “unknown” places beyond Equestria’s borders. Perhaps he could go there. All he needed now was a base of operations. Somewhere he could resupply and head out again. Ponyville looked fair enough, seeing it was a sort of hub with Equestrian Tracks. Wordsworth gave an obnoxious yawn, smacked his lips and decided to continue this business after some much needed sleep.
The next morning, Wordsworth trotted out the school’s doors with his bulging saddlebags. He saluted a Celestia statue and continued down Canterlot’s streets to the train station. He pulled out his map and decided that once he hit ponyville he would brave the forest. Only the rim had been decently explored. I’ll be the first stallion to go straight through the whole forest!, he thought with a grin.
Wordsworth was having such a wonderful time thinking about becoming a famous stallion that he failed to notice that he was heading straight for a pair of ponies. The resulting crash upended him and the others onto the rough cobblestones beneath them.
“Ahhh! I am so sorry,” Wordsworth quickly apologized as he stood picking up his things. “It was completely my fault.”
“No, no, partially ours as well. We didn’t move,” said the dazed stallion with a white coat and a red-accented brown mane. His brown eyes were still circling from the incident.
“What? What happened?”, asked the frightened mare who shook her head. As soon as she got back to her senses she gave a whimper and cowered behind the stallion. She had a coat of gray with a black and white mane. Her soft blue eyes were on the edge of tears.
“I ran into you both,” Wordsworth explained. “Again, I’m terribly sorry, but I have a train to catch and--”
“Train? We were just heading to the station ourselves!” the stallion exclaimed. He swiftly brought a hoof to his ear and knocked out some dust. “We can walk there together. My name is Drae Heart and this is my sister, Angel Heart.” Angel whimpered at the mention of her name.
“My name is Wordsworth,” he proudly proclaimed. They stood there awkwardly for a moment before Wordsworth cocked an eyebrow and asked, “It was nice to meet you both, but don’t you think we should hurry on to the station?”
“Oh, yes! Let’s go,” Drae Heart says, finally realizing that they should be on their way.