//------------------------------// // Noble Goal // Story: For the Study of Parasprites // by RickHammersteel //------------------------------// There once was a pony who was struggling in a harsh and unforgiving world. This pony had an unusual hobby: while other ponies collected medals and and photographs of unique places they’ve visited, this pony collected parasprites. Everytime he would trip on a parasprite, he would pick it up, bring it to his house, place it in a bottle, and put it on a shelf. Over the course of his life, he had collected a lot of them and the room he was storing them in was getting crowded. The pony felt smaller and smaller as his collection grew bigger and bigger. It wasn’t unheard of, to collect parasprites. But usually ponies threw them out after the insects started to gather dust. Ponies would regain continue on with their lives and forget that they ever owned a parasprite, until they encountered one again. This pony wanted to know everything there was to know about parasprites, so he would study them when he stepped outside his house. There were different varieties and some of them could blend in their environment almost perfectly until somepony would trip on them. He, however, didn’t want to be affected by parasprites’ silly tricks. Knowing parasprites in and out would grant him the power of walking on the world without tripping or stepping on one’s cute little head. His collection was a very special one. It consisted of several unique parasprites showcased on the shelves in his room. After he puts a critter on a shelf, he would not catch another of it’s kind. As long as they were unique, they intrigued him. In hopes of studying them further, he collected as many different kinds of them as he could find. His room wasn’t big enough to accommodate several copies of his collection, unfortunately. The amount of parasprites he had collected became pretty unnerving to the pony, but he didn’t know how to part with them. If he lost just one of them, how would he know if the next parasprite he would find would be a unique one or not? He had to keep all of his collection close to him, so he would have something to compare it to when he met a potential parasprite in the world If he were to throw a parasprite out soon after he had collected it, then in the course of his life he could be collecting one single parasprite over and over again, not knowing that he came in contact with it many times before. Throwing out parasprites and forgetting about them could be tragic indeed. The pony didn’t want to stroll down that path of ignorance; he was willing to do anything to avoid it. Thus he decided to study them long and hard, looking at them from different angles over and over again until he could understand them thoroughly. Perhaps, if he only collected unique parasprites, like he first planned to, he would still have room to spare. But that wasn’t an option anymore. The parasprites were of so many kinds that he failed to remember each of the unique items of his collection. He still managed to stumble on some parasprites. He only recognised them after he had already tripped on them and fallen to the ground. It wasn’t always the pony’s memory that was at fault. Sometimes he just didn’t think enough to recognise the parasprite. Either he had forgotten that he’s already been acquainted with parasprite of this type, or he just wasn’t thinking enough before picking up the new parasprite in his hooves. The Pony knew this and tried to counter it. He spent more and more time with his collection, studying every item over and over again. When he would go outside he would keep his collection in mind at all time scouring his surroundings and comparing every item in the real world to the items of his collections. From time to time, despite his dedication being at its fullest, he still managed to trip on a parasprite that wasn’t unique. He wanted to be even more dedicated, but he was already past his limits. This maximum dedication was wearing him down. Pony knew that he is special. He wouldn’t let some drowsiness stand in his way so he stepped it up a notch. He started taking every single one of the parasprites he found, even if it wasn’t unique; for having just one was not enough. Collecting more of the same kind of parasprites took up even more of his room and because of that he had an easier time remembering them. It was his goal to become an expert in parasprites. He wanted to spot them long before he would trip on them in the world. But the pony had a problem: He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t an overpowered alicorn of legends. He was a mere earth pony with limits both in body and mind. He wanted to overcome his limitations, so he spend a lot of his time in his room with his collection. Contemplating each and every one of his parasprites. Over and over again. Collection grew bigger, but it was still manageable. By emptying the shelf of his other obsessions, there was just enough space for all the parasprites to cramp up on his shelves. His collection was never meant to be permanent. He only wanted to keep the critters until he would learn the magical nature that would allow him to avoid any non unique parasprite in the world. If he achieved that level of expertise, he wouldn’t need his collection anymore. He would be able to recognise and counter the parasprites by their magical properties alone. His friends told him that what he was doing was not earth pony like. “There’s nothing wrong with an earth pony not knowing the use of magic” they said. “It was a part of the universe earth ponies weren’t designed to know.” The thought of not knowing terrified the pony. He wanted to be more than just an earth pony. Many of his friends had parasprites laying on their doorsteps. They would trip on them every time they stepped out, but they would just catch their balance and kept on walking; they don’t even realise that it was a parasprite they tripped on. He did not want to be like that. Why trip on something you can avoid or even counter. Even if the pony wanted to listen to his friends, it wouldn’t have worked. He did not have that good sense of balance as his friends had. When he tripped on a parasprite he would often lose his balance and fall down, and he didn’t like falling down. The pony’s room had a limited space. It was getting harder and harder to live in the room with all of the parasprites hanging around. The shelves were so cramped with them, that at nights some would fall off and keep the pony awake. The pony knew he had a serious problem on his hooves, and he needed to fix that.