It is as with all creators; we have the joy of bringing life and creativity to the dark places where none exists, to unite and create families of people who would otherwise have never known the joy of friendship and love that can exist between former strangers.
To see our creations come to life through the adoration of others, brought into being by our own hands, but to see them truly live in the hearts and souls of their admirers.
But with this most joyous of privileges must also come the harshness of reality; our creations are not eternal, we do not hold any illusions of such and we know that all good things must come to an end. Even as I can feel the love, laughter and joy of millions across the world, united in their singular love, I know that what I must do is unavoidable.
But how I wish it weren’t true.
I stare down at the inhabitants now, carefree and joyful, enjoying what looks to be a fine day in their wondrous world, a place free from the strife and vitriol that they so banish from the corners of our people; knowingly or not they are a beacon in a dark place for us.
Now it begins.
First the world simply seems to shine brighter than ever, friendships and the wonders of the world enhanced even beyond that which normally graces this land. Conflict seems to end, the shreds of darkness that poison even worlds as beautiful as this beaten back by its wondrous inhabitants.
I feel the outsiders emotions as they observe the scene; they are joyous, some are applauding though the inhabitants could never know it and conversing with each other, even across the oceans and the stretches of land they gather in their domains to discuss and speculate as to what is next for this world.
I can only try not to weep as I hear their joyful and excited whispers and praises of the most recent events, for I know what comes next for this world, the same world they so readily accept despite its unfamiliarity and do their best to add to.
At first things seem almost normal, imperfections appearing where there were previously none, a dimming of the lights and a slowing to the movement and emotion of the inhabitants. One bounds back and forth in a panic, somehow realising what is about to happen and desperate to stop it.
I pity her but unfortunately it is beyond me. I am sorry but I cannot help, much as it pains me to see this happen it must be done.
The influences of this world withdraw from certain areas; commercial ventures to keep it alive and well disappear from the outsiders’ world, their windows into other realms no longer show them the new adventures of the creations they so loved and admired, repeating and reliving older times, the nostalgia is appreciated but still the questions are asked, why is there no new story? When will they make new ones? Have the creators run out of ideas?
I admit that I myself do not know the reason for what is happening, while I knew this day would happen I prayed that there would at least be reasonable justification but it seems even that possible small mercy has been deprived.
By now the world beneath has slowed to a standstill; the mighty and elegant Pegasi fly no more across the skies, no animals running, children playing or birds singing.
I can still see them, though for how much longer they will remain I don’t know. It relieves my burden somewhat to see that there is no pain, they rest as though they are asleep for any other night and seem to be dreaming sweetly, many with smiles even as they dream.
Finally it begins, as they begin to glow with all the colours in the spectrum and some beyond even that; their forms seem to melt into the light enveloping them and soon they and their glow are one in the same. Before long they have begun to move, not sucked up like something through a vortex or snapped as if by a snare but gracefully, flowing through the sky like miniature rivers and eels toward the skies.
Several of them pass by and give me time to observe them; I don’t know whether or not they are still aware enough to be allowing this but I take the time to smile with tears blurring my vision at the familiar images, a trail of bubbles, a lyre, a six pronged star, a rainbow coloured lightning bolt and countless others pass, each of them whispering of those they have inspired and the admiration of countless people.
But even as I indulge myself in days past I can feel the outsiders still; they are panicking, sadness and anger emerging in equal measure, blame is thrown at any name that they can recall to possibly blame for this and I wince as I hear myself mentioned several times, the anger is palpable but the anger itself seems a shroud, a mask for the worries, fears and sadness gripping them.
I fight myself to stay focused as now, along with the swirls of light still passing, I can see the land itself beginning to fade, not into an aurora of lights as its inhabitants had but rather with a simple, soundless fade into nothingness.
I allow myself to despair as I look on the now barren void that had once housed so much life and joy that now has surely been erased by fools.
But then, something defies all that I could have ever expected.
The outsiders are once again making their emotions heard; the initial cries of outrage and sorrow are gone, replaced by… gratitude? Comfort? Hope? These are not emotions I expected from them.
But the feelings are unmistakable, those same outsiders who moments ago would surely have torn the creators of this land asunder for allowing their creation to fade, are now thanking them for the years of happiness and countless friendships forged, wishing them luck in their future endeavours and promising to support them whatever they may be.
And down below I see the most amazing sight.
Before my very eyes, the land is returning; it is different in many respects and the inhabitants seem to have changed, with some I confess I do not recognise, but they are clearly the same as those which I have just seen taken away, partially by my own hand.
This world may fade from those who created it but the loyalty of the outsiders is truly infinite; these are not mere creations or imitations for their entertainment to be discarded. No, the outsiders have turned them into more than that, and as long as that loyalty is maintained, this world shall never be truly gone, eternally sustained by the love and devotion of those it inspired.
Up above the aurora of lights from the former inhabitants has not faded as it should; it burns brighter than the sun itself, a protective guardian over the new world created by the outsiders. Even while we must leave the world to them, it seems that the guidance of the creators is never truly gone.
I now must take my leave of this world. I feared the end of this generation would mark an end of an era, the destruction of truly one of the most beautiful relations between outsiders and creators ever forged.
Instead it seems that it has only strengthened their resolve.
Even now as I work to forge a new generation, I retain fond memories of the world I leave in the loving care of the outsiders. The Creators no longer own this world.
We brought it into being. The outsiders brought it to life.
And for that I am forever grateful.
Author's Note
Dedicated to Bonnie Zacherle, Lauren Faust and the entire cast and crew of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
For our wonderful community and for such an inspiring show, no matter how little or much you contributed.
Thank you.
The Final Moments
I confess I don’t know how I’m here.
But that isn’t important. Whether I will be able to leave in time for this world to disappear doesn’t matter either.
What matters is that all these wonderful characters I see before my eyes for the first time, those same ones that we all watched and laughed with for years and built communities around, will be gone soon.
I could've seen the familiar ones, the characters we all knew and loved; they have had so many adventures for us it seems unreal, I’ll admit I don’t envy some of the things they have been through.
But I’m not here for them; they’ll get their happy ending no doubt about that.
I’m here to do what I can for the ones that people may forget. Who knows, I might be making a mistake and wasting my time, the creators probably won’t forget about them, they never have before.
But I’m not willing to chance that, and I’m sure no one else in my position would either. This is a unique opportunity to lessen a horrible blow to characters who’ve given us so much just by being themselves, they’re owed that much.
First order of business is a mare that pretty much every one of us knows; for a lot of us she is a symbol, a representative of us and embodies the best parts of us. As I look into her window I can’t help but agree; the wall-eyed mare is curled on the ground with an adorable filly wrapped up in her as they both sleep. I’d expect nothing less.
It’s a simple enough matter because I never planned to meet them face to face so this actually makes things easier. I reach into the huge bag on my back and fumble my hand until I find the right parcel: a rectangular box wrapped in bubble patterned wrapping paper.
I lay it down on the doorstep and take time first to write my first note of the evening.
Dear Ditzy, Dinky and Time Turner
You’ve never met any of us face to face which is something that I do regret but I’m just leaving you a gift here to say a simple thank you. I’m part of a large group of people, we like to call ourselves Bronies, and for a long time we weren’t very sure of our identity, we were confused, fresh and disagreed a lot.
Ditzy was one of the first things we saw in this world and Ditzy, you have no idea how much it meant to us that you kept popping up, we took you up as our mascot and you responded in kind, always there even in just barely noticeable little bits to remind us, always, that we weren’t wrong, or freaks, or stupid; thank you for showing us all that it didn’t matter what was different about us or what anyone else said.
Dinky and Time Turner, thank you for being a family to Ditzy; from the moment we saw her we hoped that she would always be happy and you kept up that promise in ways we couldn’t.
Thank you
The Bronies.
I didn’t know exactly how this world worked and there obviously wouldn’t be enough time to understand it properly now but if what we assumed about Time Turner rang true in any way, they would probably understand.
Time for the next delivery.
It wasn’t hard to find the next recipient; Ponyville was almost completely quiet at this time of night.
Almost
Just off in the distance, in a small park, a beautiful tune can be heard drifting into the ears of anyone still awake to hear it. I’ll admit I don’t know why she’s awake this late and still playing but maybe it’s a musician thing, I wouldn’t know.
I leaned myself against a tree for a little while, content just to watch her play for as long as I could allow myself. It tore me up to know that she had never gotten the attention she deserved but hopefully she would appreciate the gesture I could offer.
I waited until she finally stopped playing before leaving my next gift, tied loosely to the park gates that she was walking toward. It felt so wonderful to see her eyes widen to impossible sizes and a tearful smile on her face as she saw the bundle of roses with a card for her.
Dear Lyra Heartstrings
I want you to always know how much you are appreciated. You have more fans and admirers than you realise and you will never be alone; even if things seem dark and there seems to be no way out, we will always be there and awaiting the beautiful sounds of your lyre with baited breath.
I hope this letter will mean even half as much to you as you do to us.
Sincerely
The Bronies/The Humans
I could see her squee loudly and gallop off at speed to her home after this, almost forgetting the roses entirely but she remembered before she’d gone two steps and picked them up, with an adorable embarrassed look. I could only imagine that she was going home to see Bon Bon and celebrate that humans were real and they loved her.
I looked up to Luna’s night with a heavy heart; did even the Princesses know what was going to happen?
I made myself ignore my thoughts and took off to the outskirts of town; I didn’t know how but I knew what I would find there. Sure enough after about ten minutes I was met with a small travelling carriage, not too different from the one that it’s owner had used before.
She must be doing well again, I thought as I rummaged for her parcel, good thing too, she deserves it.
I was a bit surprised to see that this one wasn’t a parcel but rather a letter; I had a moment of confusion there but soon the knowledge entered my mind that this wasn’t mine to write. I smiled and got a bit of a chuckle at the thought of the writer of this but it still warmed my heart as I slid it through the mail slot.
I didn’t know what was on the letter to Trixie and I admit I don’t think I would’ve known what to write but I had a good feeling that whatever was written would warm her heart as much as could be asked for, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
Well he finally got a letter to her. I imagine Sethisto is happy right now.
I smirk a little at that but still I’m sure he’d be happy to know it. Next.
This last one I have to admit I’m surprised is on the list but when I think a bit more about it I guess it does make sense, he is kind of unappreciated.
The library is a wonder in person and it actually almost makes me go misty eyed thinking that I’m actually here but still, job to do, stay on task.
It’s surprisingly easy to climb the branches of the tree and it makes me wonder if it had been made with that in mind. I’m lucky that the window is open but given how the rest of the night has gone, I’m pretty certain there’s more than luck at play.
I almost fell from the tree at the sheer weight of this next package; it didn’t look any bigger than the box I’d given to the Doo family but it weighed about ten times as much, and I had a pretty good idea what would be in this.
Once again, I took the time to write the letter, though I was careful not to enter the house itself, there would probably be some kind of crazy burglar trap knowing Twilight.
Dear Spike
Just a gift for our favourite dragon little guy; we know that you feel like you get left out a lot so I hope this makes you know that even if sometimes it seems like Twilight and the others get a bit wrapped up in their own thing, you’ll always have friends looking out for you.
Enjoy little guy.
The Bronies.
As I had with the others I tape the note to the gift box and slide it as best I can toward Spikes bed; it doesn’t reach all the way with the weight of it but it’s far enough that no one will step on it, not like that would do much anyway.
I slide myself down from the tree with a soft thump, landing just outside the library front door. Somewhere in the back of my mind I am informed of one last delivery to make before I’m finished.
This one confounds me because unlike my other deliveries the house is unfamiliar and the pony I can see sitting by the fireplace I don’t recognise, nor do I recognise the young filly and colt sitting with her or the stallion gazing with such love down at his sleeping wife and children.
The confusion lifts as it occurs to me that I don’t know them but so what? They are just as important as any other pony, the fact that I don’t know them makes no difference. I still pull my package from my bag just the same and gently slide it into the mailbox, though I have no clue what might be in this one. Famous or complete mystery, they will get the same love and adoration, just as they deserve.
It only takes me a few minutes to walk back to where this all started, a fork in the road just outside Ponyville, the thoughts that aren’t my own again letting me know that I need to go back.
“You have done a great thing tonight.”
The figure is somehow familiar even though I am certain I have never met them.
“This world has reached its end, as you are by now no doubt aware. I thank you for allowing these wondrous inhabitants one last joy before they must go.”
I nod, I’m still not sure exactly what to make of this figure that I can barely make out.
“Is there really nothing we can do?” It’s the first time I’ve spoken all night.
I can feel the answer before it gives it.
“I’m afraid not, but I feel that we have done all that we can; you and your fellow outsiders have been allowed to show this world that, even though they don’t know it, these inhabitants touch the lives of others in ways they cannot imagine. I think that is the best thing that can be done by this point.”
It somehow doesn’t surprise me to know that others have been going around just I have, rather it fills me with relief to know that everyone in this world will be shown just how valued they are, that we weren’t limited in spreading our love.
“It is time for you to go outsider. You have my most sincere gratitude for what you have done this night, it will not be forgotten.”
As I feel myself pulled from the world and returned to my own I make a promise to both myself and the figure right there.
It won’t just end.
Even if it really needs to finish, we’ll make sure that the lessons, the influence and the wonder it brought.
That legacy will live on through us.
Author's Note
Dedicated to the Brony fandom.
Thank you for demonstrating the best of humanity and for introducing me to one of my favourite shows.
And thank you for saving my life. You may never know how much good you do.
