Chapter 2: Torch

“Hey, Spike, another doughnut…”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Another doughnut! Extra sprinkles!”

Spike rolled his eyes, but served Morning Light another doughnut anyway (with extra sprinkles, of course). Business was business, after all.

“I still think you’re overreacting, though. I mean, Cheerilee is just a pony. You can’t expect her to be all-knowing. Isn’t this a bit much just because she-“

“Because she doesn’t know? She doesn’t know! How dare she not know!?”

Morning had gone to Spike’s Sweet Space to calm his nerves in the wake of the terrifying event.

“Calm down already, Torch, it’s no big deal. Heck, she might even have just forgotten. Miss Cheerilee is a bit... old,” said Spike, while polishing a seemingly spotless smoothie glass – but who could argue with the eyes of a dragon?

“But you don’t understand! Do you know what this does to my perception of authority figures? I’ll never be able to trust a teacher ever agaaaaiin!”

Spike threw Morning a sarcastic glare.

“Torch, I’m speaking from experience when I say; leave the drama. It’s not your thing.”

“But-!”

“No buts. You can’t expect teachers to know everything – that’s why there are more than one of them. You can probably find a teacher at school who actually knows the answer to your question, but you might have to wait until Monday to ask. Keep calm and eat your doughnut – extra sprinkles,” Spike said and pointed at the doughnut.

“Do excuse my ignorance, wait until Monday? What day is it again?”

“It’s Friday,” Spike chuckled.

“Bollocks.”

“You’re the only kid I know who doesn’t like weekends. It’s hilarious!”

“Hey, Spike!” a yellow pegasus filly exclaimed, having just entered the doughnut bar.

“Hey, Blitz!” Spike yelled back at her.

“How’s Pony Joe doing?”

“Surprisingly well. Business is really giving him his pension – and then some. But could anything else happen with such a handsome dragon behind the counter?” he said while drawing a claw through the scales on his head, “I never did manage to grow a moustache…”

“Why did you decide to change the name of the shop?” Blitz asked puzzled.

“I wanted to keep Pony Joe’s, actually, but Pony Joe insisted that you couldn’t have a shop named Pony Joe’s without any Pony Joes, so being Pony Joeless, it isn’t Pony Joe’s anymore!” Spike smiled, rejoicing in the perfection of the phrase he had so obviously practised for quite some time now, as ponies were rather curious.

“That's a lot of Pony Joes!” chuckled Blitz. Then she turned to Morning Light.

“What are you doing here looking all sad and stuff, Morning?”

“Oh, I am but wallowing in grief because of Miss Cheerilee’s quite gruesome-“

“Ahem, what did I say about the drama?” Spike shot him another glare.

And Morning promptly shot one back at him.

“Teehee,” Blitz giggled, “you’re weird. It suits your crazy mane. It looks sciency,” she said as she ruffled his almost white and rather puffy mane.

“Congratulations upon being the thousandth pony to notice! Truly a remarkable feat. May I offer you a doughnut as a prize for your achievement?”

“Extra sprinkles?”

“Extra sprinkles.”

“Yet another doughnut, extra sprinkles, coming up!”

They sat and ate in silence for a while. A few ponies came to the café, ordering doughnuts and coffee. One even asked for cake, to which Spike kindly directed him to a bakery elsewhere in town. “This is a doughnut café,” he said, "we don't even have marzipan!"

“You know what, Spike?” Morning eventually said. “You’re right. There’s no point in despairing because of a teacher whose knowledge upon a specific subject was not quite as covering as one might have hoped. I’ll have to find someone else who can answer my question. Be it my parents, another teacher,-”

“The books at the library,” Spike added.

“the books at the li-“ Morning almost fell into a trance.

“Torch?”

“The library! Why did I not think of that! I am there almost eight days a week!” and with that, he was off.

“Morning Light!” Blitz called out, but no avail. He had his head far too deep in the books to notice. “See you later then!” she tried.

“He didn’t even pay…”

“I’m going to friend him so hard.”

“He didn’t even pay…”

“Why won’t he be my friend, Spike?”

“He didn’t even pay…!”

Blitz threw a bit on the counter with a roll of her eyes.

“Put it on his tab and focus, already!”

Spike snapped out of his haze, took the money, and put it in the cash register.

“Right. Why don’t you tag along and help him find a book with some answers?”

And with that, Blitz was off too.

Spike continued to polish the smoothie glass. “Teehee. Sparkle.”

__________________________

“Good day to you, Mrs Decimal,” Morning Light greeted the all too grey mare with a grey mane and dull glasses with a grey frame. Despite all this greyness, the librarian of the Canterlot library was a very kind mare. “And to you, Morning Light. What can I do for you?” Mrs Decimal asked with a smile.

“I am currently dealing with quite the conundrum, and I was wondering if you could help me?”

“Certainly. What is it?” Her smile grew wider.

“Cutie Marks.”

Then her smile faltered somewhat.

“More specifically, where do Cutie Marks come from?”

And the smile of the gentle Mrs Decimal was all but gone by now.

“Well, I certainly don’t know myself,” she said, “however, I can help you find the section with books on Cutie Marks – but I must warn you... it is not very large.”

And so Mrs Decimal brought Morning along rows and rows of bookcase upon bookcase down one of the largest libraries in all of Equestria.

“Well, you have been here before…”

“Once or twice.”

“But I still find it fascinating to bring you through these eons of literature and history. We have Neighton, Aristrottle, Saddlespeare, you name it…”

“Indeed.”

“Not to mention famous magicians. Starswirl the Bearded, for example.”

“Oh, he is one of my absolute favourites.”

“And your lovely grandmother’s, too. But as I was saying, it really warms my heart to bring such knowledge-hungry ponies such as yourself down these rows of books, even if we have to go all the way to the far end of the library: 999.7 – Obscure And Ancient Religions Nobody Cares About. 999.8 – The Journey of Paper from Seed to Print. Oh, here we are: 999.9…”

“Where a very measly collection of books about Cutie Marks resides.”

And that was no understatement. Despite being the Canterlot Library, one of the most renowned libraries in all of Equestria, the entire Cutie Mark section consisted of only three books – and they were apparently really old, too.

“Let’s see,” mused Mrs Decimal, “”Cutie Pox and Other Cutie-Illnesses,” by Catalogue., T; “Famous and Notorious Marks through the Ages,” by Depth, I.; and “Finding Your Special Talent – A Guidebook,” by Capt. Obvious.”

Morning hardly looked amused. In fact, he was adorning quite the frown.

“Are you sure there is absolutely nothing else?” he asked.

“Well, I could go look, but I’m afraid the results will be scarce.”

“Please, have a look; this question is tearing my mind apart. I’ll look at these in the meantime.”

“I shall be right back.” Mrs Decimal had some idea where to start, but wasn’t quite sure.

Morning sat down to read. After a quick scan, he quickly dismissed the guidebook, for it was full of cliché sentences like: “Follow your heart,” and “do what makes you happy,” and “seek inwards.” It was all very cringe-worthy and did nothing but waste Morning’s time.

Although he had no Cutie Mark himself, he knew very well that it made little sense to try to force it to appear. Why, they had just learnt about it in class.

The book about the Cutie Pox and related illnesses was an interesting read, indeed. A rather superficial reading revealed something about a Cutie Mark Flu, which caused quite the chaos in the years around 400 A.D., After Discord. The colours of ponies’ Cutie Marks were shifted to their contrasts, and thus a pony carrying the Cutie Flu turned absolutely terrible at whatever special talent they possessed for up to two weeks at a time. Thankfully, it was not lethal, unless a pony’s special talent was something dangerous and they tried to do it regardless of the disease. The book even included an illustration of a pony whose special talent was operating a trebuchet. Never had an Earth pony flown so far.

“Famous and Notorious Marks through the Ages,” Morning said aloud. Now, this might prove interesting, he thought to himself, and rightly so. The book looked like the literary manifestation of old wisdom: it was heavy, thick, with yellowing pages and even some cobweb on the shelf it stood on. Despite all this, it had to be rather new, because the Cutie Mark – or Morning assumed it was a Cutie Mark – on the front of it was none other than the one currently on his dear-

“Hi, Morning!”

“Gah!”

“What are you doing here?” asked Blitz cheerily, a huge grin on her face.

“Picking strawberries, Blitz, you startled me!” Morning said, still panting heavily from the surprise. How could she creep up on him like that?

“Oh yeah! I found this book,” said Blitz, and presented a lovely little book with the title: “Where Cutie Marks Come From,” by Jest, S.. Morning could hardly believe his own eyes. It seemed almost too good to be true. How could he miss a book like this? With its purple colour and mesmerising title, it was pinpointing exactly what he had been asking.

“Uhh, Morning? You’re… drooling.”

Morning came back to reality. “It’s beautiful,” he mused, “can I touch it?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Morning carefully opened the book containing the key to solve all his problems, and began to read aloud.

“Page number one:

“Nopony knows. Just give up.”

“Huh?” Blitz looked confused.

“There are no more words! The rest- the rest of the pages are b-b-blank!” Morning sputtered.

“You’re sure there’s nothing more in it?”

“It’s worthless! Utterly worthless!” Morning shouted, as he ripped the book to bits and pieces and scraps of paper flying everywhere. It was quite a sight to behold, if not for the fact that he was destroying library property.

“Mister Morning Light!” was the angry yell heard behind the two. It was, of course, none other than Mrs Decimal, and the two young ponies twirled around in their spots; utter terror in their eyes.

“Mrs Decimal! I-!”

“THIS is how you would treat our books? Why, I had expected better of you, young colt!”

“Mrs Decimal, I’m truly sorry!”

“Being sorry won’t restore this lovely piece of literature!” Mrs Decimal said as she levitated the sad remains of the comedy book into a trash bin. She sighed: “I’m afraid I cannot let you go unpunished, Morning Light.”

Morning gave Mrs Decimal a frightened, pleading look.

“I’m sorry, Morning Light. Rules are rules.”

“Please don’t be too harsh on Morning Light, Mrs Decimal,” intervened Blitz, “it wasn’t his fault! I gave him that terrible book, and because he was so focused on his goal, he-“

“Lost his temper? That would certainly not be the first time, though I had never quite imagined him to destroy a book in one of his fits.”

Morning looked down on the floor in shame. “Please tell me what I can do to make it alright again, Mrs Decimal. I will do nigh anything! I will replace the book! I will polish the mosaics! But please, please do not suspend me from this fair library; I love it so much here!”

Mrs Decimal pondered the proposal for a moment, then she answered: “Yes… that seems fair.”

“I am to polish mosaics?”

“Why, among other things, indeed. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays after school for a month, you will come to the library and do work for me in the library; polish mosaics, scrub floors, dust and move books, chores like that. And you will also replace the book, of course. Do we have an agreement?”

Morning looked up and said: “We do. I accept the punishment for my heinous crime, and I will ensure it will never happen again.”

“See to it that it doesn’t,” remarked Mrs Decimal, “lest I be forced to banish you from the library altogether.”

Morning swallowed a lump, but nodded in agreement to the terms put forth. Mrs Decimal changed the subject.

"As for other books, I'm terribly sorry, but I could find nothing in my records that might help you with your search.”

“Aw,” said Morning, with Blitz chiming in but a split-second thereafter.

“I’m sorry, Morning Light, but did you at least find use in the books in the section?”

“Actually,” Morning said, “may I borrow “Cutie Pox and Other Cutie Illnesses” and this?” He held up “Famous and Notorious Marks through the Ages” with his telekinesis.

“Why, of course, you may. As long as you don’t ruin them.” Mrs Decimal winked at Morning.

__________________________

One would think that the grandchild of a Royal Alicorn Princess lived at the grand Canterlot Castle, and one would be perfectly correct. Thus, Morning Light was no stranger to a life in luxury. However, his parents had done their best to ensure that Morning did not grow up to be a spoilt brat, as Twilight Sparkle had done with his mother in her time.

They all lived in the castle, indeed, and they all had servants, chefs, maids, guards, butlers, gardeners, plumbers, and pretty much every other profession you can imagine being necessary at a castle as grand as the Canterlot Castle.

But who wanted such thing?

Nay, most of the staff belonging to Morning and his parents had been given an extended, paid leave, being summoned only when extra help was needed. Sure, the garden needed its gardeners, but Sun Spot, Morning Light’s mother, cleaned their own, rather grandiose living quarters – “the maids can clean the rest of the castle, thank you very much,” she usually said.

Morning’s father, Everfriend, was an excellent chef, despite specialising in diplomacy. Chefs were only called in when the family was hosting a banquet.

And thus, trying little by little, the happy family tried to live a relatively normal life despite their royal status.

That didn’t stop Morning from trying out the royal throne every once in a while, however. Being royalty did have its perks,
and sitting on the throne gave him a few chuckles as well as a sense of inner serenity on rough days, and today had been especially cruel.

Goodness, he thought, as he sat in the golden chair. Miss Cheerilee didn’t know the source of everypony’s Cutie Marks, Spike was of little use too; even the library… failed me. He slumped a bit forward in shame, And I failed it.

Equestria was a somewhat quirky place; the magical ponies had a tendency to burst into song at a moment’s notice, whenever the situation and mood seemed appropriate, and just now was such a moment for Morning. It makes little sense to try and explain how he sang, but what he sang is an entirely different story. It went a bit like this:

Should I describe a trait of mine;

Draw a sole defining line?

One thing that fills me up with glee:

I’d pick my curiosity.

Every day brings something new.

Knowledge which I never knew!

And once I pick a foreign scent:

I shall not stop afore the end!

But here comes this; a query mad.

I knew not it could make me sad.

I feel like such a useless pawn,

When I ask: “What makes Cuties spawn?”

My teachers failed; they seldom do.

Alas, my books kept silent too.

Where do I go?

Whom should I ask?

Should I give up this foolish task?

No…

Although, some nuts are tough to crack:-

And this has taken me aback;

I won’t give up; I shall prevail!

For Sparkle blood can never fail!

For with my great dedication,

And a little motivation;

Not too much procrastination,

I shall scour this fair nation.

With some systematisation,

I will do interrogation,

And a bit investigation,

Find the x of this equation.

With my strong, stalwart fixation,

I will reach my destination.

By this very information,

I shall be a great sensation-!

The answer, it will come to me.

This I vow; just wait and seeeeee…

__________________________

Morning Light soon found himself at home – or rather; the living quarters he called home. A separate wing of the castle had been refurbished to accommodate the demands of Morning’s family. Why, if you did not know better, you might think that they were just another Canterlotian upper middle class family. His father, Everfriend, was already in the kitchen, preparing an exquisite dinner that would make anypony’s mouth water run; royal as well as common.

“Hey, there, Torch!” he said, adorning a somewhat cute apron and a truly amazing, puffy chef’s hat.

“Good evening, father, how was your day?”

“Splendid! Splendid indeed! Played badminton with the Griffin ambassador today. I tell you, Kra’kow has a mean smash. I’ll have to claim my rightful victory when we meet again. But I’ll be a good sport for now!”

“That does sound entertaining indeed. Would you mind if I watched next time?”

Everfriend chuckled: “Not at all, Torch, not at all. How was your day?”

“Oh, absolutely dreadful. However, if you would like to hear, I’d rather elaborate at the dinner table. For now, please, tell me you are cooking something delicious; I am positively famished!”

“My cooking is always delicious, Torch, you know that,” Everfriend said with a wink, “however, to satisfy your curiosity for now, I’m making my delicious VW.”

“Veggie Wok?” Morning asked excitedly.

“Veggie Wok,” said Everfriend.

“Veggie Wok!” said a third voice behind Morning!

“Mother!” Morning and Everfriend said in unison. Everfriend was of course merely jesting, for it was none other than Sun Spot, wife of Everfriend and mother of Morning Light, standing before them.

“Good evening to you both,” she said lovingly, ",what mischiefs have you colts been up to today?"

“All that will have to wait!” Everfriend interrupted, “dinner is served.”

__________________________

At the dinner table Everfriend was just finishing the spectacular epic that was his badminton match against the griffin ambassador.

“… I was absolutely certain of my victory when he stood almost leaning over the net. I thought I would trick him by opting for a long shot, and for a moment there, it did look like I had taken him with his pants down – figuratively speaking, of course.” Everfriend took a bite of fried broccoli, and while chewing, he continued:

“But then old ambassador Kra’kow leaps up and smashes the ball into the ground before I have a chance to react to what’s going on. And thus he was declared winner of the match. It was a very close call, though!”

Morning Light and Sun Spot clapped their hooves at the remarkable tale. “Amazing story! It was indeed a shame that you lost, father. But I have utmost faith that you shall emerge victorious upon your next glorious clash.” Morning raised his glass utilising his magic. It contained apple juice.

“I appreciate the support, Torch. And of course I’ll get him next time! Had I been an Earth Pony, I would probably have made a stern remark, if not a complaint, about Kra’kow’s use of wings, but you know,” he waved a piece of leek all around the table before biting it, “magic!” Everfriend chuckled.

Morning rolled his eyes.

“What’s the matter, Torch? Don’t like dancing veggies?”

“No, father, please, I beg of you! Do show some restraint!”

“Nope!”

What happened next was quite the sight to behold. Everfriend used his telekinesis to lift pieces of carrot, celery, leek, cucumber, broccoli and many other vegetables up in the air, and created a dance show using the vegetables. The aubergine did a salsa with the peas! Leeks waltzed along with cucumbers! And even though they are technically not vegetables, even the tomatoes and bell peppers showed off quite an admirable tango. It was all very impressive!

Morning, of course, found it absolutely dreadful, and looked with pleading eyes to his mother as the broccoli did a marvellous leap in front of his face.

“Everfriend, dear, your son and I would be glad if you would stop playing with your food and eat it like a gentlecolt,” Sun said with a sly smile.

“Aww, but they are so talented!” Everfriend replied, and begrudgingly returned the vegetables to his plate, before he said: “Now, tell us about your day, Torch!”

“Oh, but dear father, ‘tis such a long story! I’d like to hear about mother’s day at the hospital, first.”

“Alright, Morning, but I am really curious about what has happened to make you so tired. You must promise me to tell us about your day once I have finished!” said Sun.

Morning gave a slight nod in agreement.

“My day was very good. I did get an odd call from the head of the Trottingham department – something about a vanished cutie mark – but it turned out to be false alarm. So for once, nobody died!” Then Sun looked at Morning with a smile of anticipation.

Morning drew a breath before speaking, but he got no further before a very familiar and very unwelcome bell rang that quickly took the warmth out of the dining room. Being the chief physician of the Canterlot Central Hospital, Sun often had messengers intruding upon the very family’s privacy. And more often than not, they were bearers of ill news…

“How dare they call at this time?” spurted Sun, voice seething with rage. Seemingly out of nowhere, she levitated a piece of paper up next to her face, crumbled it up and tore it apart in a manner most gruesome. Then it burst into flames.

“Oh, no, darling, not at the dinner table!” wailed Everfriend as he tried to keep the ashes from landing on the unquestionably pretty tablecloth.

“…six, seven, eight…” Sun sighed, “well, better get to it. I’ll return as soon as I can. Do have a nice evening, you two.”

“Goodbye, mother!”

“Cheerio, darling!”

Morning gloomily bit a carrot.

“Don’t be too sad, Torch. Your mum is a very busy mare, you know.”

“I know…”

“Now, why don’t you take a breath, gather your thoughts, and tell me about your day,” Everfriend held a short pause before gesturing at the bowl in the middle of the table. “Seconds?”

Morning threw Everfriend a slight, but sincere smile.

__________________________

It felt like days had passed since Sun Spot had left the cosy dining table, and Morning Light missed his mother dearly!

Then again, Morning had never been exactly good with time…

It was half past nine by the minute when Sun at last entered Morning’s room as he was preparing to go to bed. In fact, he was sitting on it at the very moment.

“Hi, Morning Light,” she approached Morning, kissed his forehead, and sat down with him.

“Hello, mother. Did your emergency call proceed tolerably?”

“Sorry? Yes! Oh, yes. Everything is under control.”

“That is comfortable to know, indeed…”

“Your dad said you are in a bad mood?”

“I’m afraid so…”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

And little more was needed to switch Morning into a veritable talking frenzy! He talked all about his entire day, and rather quickly, too!

“… and then it was just a joke book by some S. Jest, so I became full of rage, like, WOAH, and I RUINED A LIBRARY BOOK, MOTHER!” Sun flinched slightly at this. “And then Mrs Decimal became really angry and disappointed, and now I have to help at the library three days a week for a month, and I’m so sorry, but at least I’m still allowed to borrow books, but I still don’t know where cutie marks come from!” Morning buried his head in his pillow while Sun embraced him in a tight hug.

“Calm down, Morning, dear. You’ll figure it out, eventually, I’m sure! Now, I don’t know much about cutie marks, but I do know a way to keep your anger under control.”

“Is that so?” Morning looked up from the pillow.

“Yes! I assume you have noticed how I always have several pieces of paper close to me?”

“I have…”

“Well, as you know, I have quite a fiery temper myself, and when I get mad, I simply must destroy something – anything.”

Morning’s eyes went wide with clarification, and he concluded: “And you keep sheets of paper around so you have something nigh worthless to rip apart instead of ruining something important. Thus your rage is quenched, and no one is worse off! That is brilliant, mother!”

“You’re welcome, Morning. Now, don’t you think it’s bedtime?”

“It is, indeed. Thank you, mother, for the great tip. I shall put it into effect first chance.” Morning snuggled in under his duvet. It was decorated with stars.

“Good night, my dear. See you tomorrow. And remember, it’s Saturday,” said Sun, as she kissed Morning’s forehead once again.

“Good night, mother,” he said as the lights went off, "I love you."

"I love you too, dear." And thus Sun made her exit.

In the darkness, he in a whisper said to himself: “Saturday…” he glanced around the room. There was a faint light coming through the window from the full moon, illuminating the otherwise dark bedroom. Morning’s room was rather modest, indeed. Well, for a grandchild of the ruler of Equestria, that is. There were two bookcases filled to the brim with a wide assortment of books; a working table on which Morning could be doing his homework had he not preferred the floor; a small telescope, heavily used; and a nice rug with the star cutie mark of Twilight Sparkle, the family crest. In the corner one would also find a chest, containing a broad variety of personal objects, some being: “Why Are You Ten!? – a Guidebook for Emotionally Mature Foals” by Up, G., a personal favourite book of Morning’s; a shining ball enchanted to threaten anyone touching it with death and despair; a small stuffed of a rabbit he got when he was but three days old; and, oddly enough, a prismatic tie…

Author's Note

Yes, I had to include a song!

Yes, there will be more!

Next up: Saturdaaaaay!

Great thanks to The Ice Princess for a whole lot o' proofreading!