Extended Holiday
Chapter 28: The Old and The New
The next day dawned like any other, and once again, each of the members in the group of heroes went about their specific duties and errands. The day carried on, but eventually, the time came for a little rest in the haven they had come to call their temporary home. Hammer Strike, Dust Bunny, Grif, and the Shields all walked into the Punch Bowl together to find a seat for a meal and a rest. At Hammer Strike’s strict insistence, the three servants also sat at the table. Although she looked uncomfortable, as did the shields, none raised objections to their lord’s request.
“Can I ask where Pensword is?” Grif commented.
Berry Punch approached with some cups of water for them. “Moonshade took him off somewhere. Something about needing to get out and stretch his wings.” She smirked. “Y’ask me, I’d say she had a little something more in mind.”
Hammer Strike raised a brow but held his peace. Fortunately, he didn’t have to hold it long. Pensword walked in with Moonshade beside him. A cut above his eyebrow trickled to stain the fur there while the rest of his coat was sopping wet. His face was black as a thundercloud, and he muttered angrily under his breath.
“What happened to you?” Grif asked.
“Some cocky idiot thought it’d be funny to throw a snowball with an ice shard packed inside it and test my reflexes. I wound up crashing into a snow drift after the rest of the snow spread over my eyes. … And after I crashed through an entire row of icicles.” He groaned and smacked his muzzle against the table. “Could someone please get me a cocoa?”
“Did you see who threw it?” Grif asked.
“Moonshade did.”
“It’s been dealt with.” Moonshade nodded to Grif. “Firmly.”
Grif returned the gesture.
“So, what’s everybody else been up to?” Pensword finally brought himself to ask after Berry produced the chocolatey beverage.
“After a meeting with Luna yesterday, I took a trip to the market as well, stumbled across a mare who happened to own a blade I made.” Hammer Strike perked up briefly before reaching into his coat. “Oh, speaking of…. Grif, have fun.” He pulled out a small wrapped object and passed it towards Grif.
“Is this … an ocarina?” Grif asked, turning the object over in his fingers.
“Yep. Sold to me by a mare named Epona.”
“A Pony named Epona, an Ocarina….” Pensword’s eyes widened. “This wouldn’t be related to a certain videogame from Earth by chance, would it?”
“Who knows?” Hammer Strike shrugged.
“Are you all interested in video games?” Dust Bunny asked.
“We have a knowledge of them.” Grif shrugged.
"If you make training fun, the training can stick better," Pensword said. “The primary benefit was the increase in hand-eye coordination and reflexes.”
“Wouldn’t the benefit to that only be slight compared to real life training?” Dust Bunny asked.
“For beginners, it’s not a bad start,” Pensword returned.
Dust Bunny nodded. “I suppose it could always be worse.”
Pensword smiled. “Like a Changeling invasion?”
Dust Bunny shuddered, then nodded. “I don’t think anything could get worse than that.”
“Don’t ever say that,” Grif said. “Never tempt Murphy’s law.”
“What is Murphy’s Law?” the mare asked.
No sooner had the words left her lips then a violent shaking passed through the building with the impact of something heavy striking against one of the walls of the inn. Due to the utter shock generated from the event, and the incredibly sturdy structural engineering, nobody could quite tell whether the ominous cry of, “Cutie Mark Crusaders Cart Testers, YAY!” came before or after the impact. The chaotic nature of the three fillies involved, however, was well known in the town by now.
“That's Murphy's Law,” Grif said. “If you say anything about anything not getting worse, it gets worse,” Grif groaned.
“Without failure,” Hammer Strike added.
The shields shuddered. “We both saw that enough times at the Bluebloods’ estate.”
“Is anyone going to see if they’re all right?” Pensword asked.
Berry approached and served them each a bowl of steaming soup. “They’ll be fine. They do this kind of thing all the time.”
“I’d ask more about it, but I’m afraid of calling Murphy down again,” Pensword noted with a heavy sigh, then ate a spoonful of soup. The relief was evident immediately as the tension in his body relaxed.
“So, we know that the assault on the forest begins with Winter Wrapup, but what are your plans going to be for New Year’s, Sir?” Blast Shield asked.
“To keep bettering our equipment and training,” Hammer Strike responded with little thought. “You two?”
“Well, depending on the shift, we might be there with you,” Tower Shield replied. “That, or we would be celebrating the new year with some of the other guards and staff.”
“Fair enough, I suppose,” Hammer Strike hummed. “Everyone else?”
“Well, I thought we were going to have a little celebration of our own,” Pensword admitted.
“I mean, nothing’s stopping us from doing so.”
“Didn’t you say you were going to be working on equipment and training, though?”
“I’m always working on equipment and training. I’m sure I can take a break for a celebration.” He gave a brief chuckle.
“A party is definitely in order,” Grif agreed, offering a chuckle of his own.
“Would this be a private or a public affair?” Dust Bunny asked. “We can make the arrangements, but if you want to make it a public party, the rest of the staff and I will need the time to plan and select an appropriate venue.”
“Probably private,” Hammer Strike mused. “Unless someone decides to meddle….”
“Meddle?” Dust Bunny asked.
“You never know.” Grif shrugged. “Sometimes people like to change plans as a surprise. Doesn’t always end well.”
“You want me to get Pinkie Pie for you?” Berry asked. “She’s the best planner in town when it comes to parties.”
“So a public party, then.” Grif chuckled. “No way she’d keep it quiet.”
"Only if we make her promise to keep it low key," Pensword said. “I don’t think we’d appreciate a face full of party cannon confetti.”
“What?” Dust Bunny asked.
“That’s right, you probably haven’t seen that,” Pensword said. “Pinkie has this cannon that fires confetti and party supplies. She can decorate a hall in minutes with that thing. Or blast a Pony halfway across the room while they’re plastered with whatever she wants them to be dressed up in. Hats, costumes, flags, just about anything.” He frowned and rubbed his chin. “Honestly, I still can’t help but wonder how she does it all.”
“It’s Pinkie Pie. Don’t question it,” Grif said.
“But this isn’t even her Pinkie sense!”
“I said don’t question it,” Grif reiterated.
Pensword grumbled darkly as Moonshade patted him consolingly on the back.
“Oh,” Hammer Strike perked up. “Before I forget, Moonshade, stop by the forge sometime later when you can. I’ve got something finished for you. Pensword, I’ve finished fixing up the rest of your weapons and armor, too.”
Pensword perked up a little at that. “I was starting to feel a little naked without it,” he admitted.
“Oh?” Moonshade seemed momentarily surprised Hammer Strike had something for her. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
Berry planted a massive basket on the table covered with a checkered red and white cloth. “Now that you’ve all settled your business….” She swiped the cloth away to reveal a shimmering trove of fluffy quickbread goodness. “Who wants one of Derpy’s muffins?”
Grif had gone to his room for some light reading. A few hours later, he rolled his muscles, trying to loosen up after sitting for so long. He opened his door only to find Hammer Strike had laid his armor outside without coming in.
Grif chuckled to himself as he took the armor into his room and laid it out carefully on his bed, happy to see it back in good condition. The few marks and scratches that remained seemed to give it a quiet dignity. Once he was secure in the knowledge of its restoration, he proceeded back into the hall and down to the tavern with only his swords on his back and his gun holstered at his side.
The forge was hot and sweltering as the royal smiths set to work at their crafts, working to outfit the troops for the expedition to come. Pensword and Moonshade strode in and locked eyes with Steel Weaver. The stallion looked intently at them, then jerked his head back toward the rear of the forge. It didn’t take a scientist to interpret his meaning. Knowing only too well the burden Steel Weaver carried, they left the stallion to his work and pressed deeper into the chambers. Each of the other two smiths were immersed in their own projects, whether gilding, engraving, etching, hammering, smelting or something else. As master craftsponies, each cared about making sure they produced quality each time, and it showed in their work.
Hammer Strike was no exception to this rule. In fact, one might say he was the embodiment. Despite the hints of bags forming under his eyes and the way his shoulders hunched over the anvil, he continued to work steadily with carefully measured strokes and techniques to ensure the best quality he could produce. So deep was he in his work that he was almost in his own world.
Two broad white cloths covered a pair of work tables, one on either side of the forge, to obscure whatever lay beneath. Whether to prevent prying eyes from trying to copy his designs or simply to prepare a surprise was anyone’s guess. The two Ponies approached slowly to avoid being struck by sparks. And just as one was about to raise their voice to tell the lord of their arrival, one of the floorboards creaked heavily.
Despite his exhaustion, Hammer Strike was swift as he removed a knife from his coat and pointed it towards the two. Even as he held it with precision, he put down his equipment safely before turning to face the intruders. Then he sighed, lowering the knife. “Sorry, that’s become a … natural response, I guess.”
“After everything we’ve been through, we can hardly blame you,” Pensword replied. “Has it really gotten that bad here, though?”
“No, it’s…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s other things. You don’t need to worry. I’ve got it handled,” he said, even as he returned the knife to his coat.
“If you say so.” Pensword nodded toward the forge. “You look like you’ve been busy. Did we come too soon?”
“No, no. Your stuff is complete.” Hammer Strike gestured at the covered tables. “Moonshade, yours is the left. Pensword, yours is on the right. Took a bit longer to fix the helmet, but I finally got an import of good material to do so recently.”
Pensword’s table revealed a custom-made helmet complete with a working pair of flexible ear pieces designed to pivot comfortably while still keeping the soft cartilage safe. Next to it, a brand new sword laid next to its sheath. It was freshly sharpened, and it gleamed in the forge’s light, as if to welcome its new master. Next to them, an old comrade waited for him to use once again. The many individual blades reflected his smile as he stroked the equipment. With this, he would be able to do a lot more damage to enemies in the future.
Moonshade gasped when she removed her cover. A brand new helmet stood before her, with an upgraded design that still retained the appearance of the Lunar Guard while using Hammer Strike’s techniques and a better blend of alloys for durability and strength. As it was with Pensword’s helmet, so it was for hers. The pivot joints waited for her ears to slide into place so that they could protect her. A nose bar spread neatly down the bridge of her nose to protect the majority of her muzzle without limiting her range of motion. A new harness also awaited her, complete with attachments designed to fit her wings. Unlike Pensword’s offensive capabilities, these were designed to contour to the wing joint and protect the bones beneath by diffusing the energy of blows she might receive and allowing her to redirect the flow of the attack. The unique design of the breastplate provided more cover to her back while still giving her the flexibility and visibility required to maneuver in the air and on the ground. The new armored horseshoes stretched taller in front, but were also designed with joints to ensure flexibility when walking, trotting, or rushing at a full gallop. What looked to be metal plates shaped almost like fans sat on either side of the horseshoes.
“Those are modifications you can use with your forelegs in an emergency to act as a barrier against projectiles. Not the same as a shield, but it will give you some time if you’re caught in the air and need to protect your vitals,” Hammer Strike explained.
Moonshade nodded. “That will be very useful. Thank you.”
“As for you, Pensword, I was able to fix up your helmet finally. The materials for the ear piece took some time to arrive, but I made sure to order a small stockpile of it for future use. Beyond that, your weapons from the Crystal Empire are fully repaired and should potentially be in better condition than when I first made them.”
“Better?” Pensword marveled. “How is that even supposed to be possible? I thought the Crystal Empire was supposed to be ahead of Equestria, at least for the materials.”
Hammer Strike blinked a few times, and once he was sure nobody else was in the room, he sighed. “It’s because of one variable,” he remarked before pointing to himself.
“You? Like … you tapped your cutie mark’s special talent or something?”
“Practice,” Hammer Strike said flatly.
“Oh.” Pensword blinked. “That makes sense, too.”
“Why would you think a cutie mark would make you instantly that good at something?” Moonshade asked curiously.
“I never said it would make you good instantly. I just know the magic in it can help increase the quality and skill involved when it’s tapped.”
“Yes, but not to that degree,” Moonshade said.
“Either way, Moonshade, would you mind trying on the armor? Since I didn’t take measurements, I admittedly worked off of what I could guess from looking at you,” Hammer Strike said.
Moonshade nodded and took the armor. When she walked out from the changing space a few minutes later, she grinned. “It fits perfectly.”
“She looks almost like a Valkyrie,” Pensword breathed.
“That’s a relief,” Hammer Strike sighed. “As said, it was entirely guesswork. I … admittedly thought I would have needed to make adjustments. Are you sure it fits perfectly? Even if it’s minor, I can make adjustments.”
“It’s perfect,” she assured him.
“Good.” He nodded. “It’d probably be a good idea for us to stop by the library, see what Luna thinks of the new armor.”
“Very well. We can head over immediately after we’re done here.”
Pensword nodded. “I think I’m ready. And who knows, maybe Princess Luna will like the new armor so much that she’ll want to commission Hammer Strike for more.”
“That would be a lot of work,” Hammer Strike noted.
A boisterous Brooklyn accent blasted through the open air as Ahead Scout, a fleet-footed and swift-winged Pegasus mercenary, regaled the other guards with one of his many, many off-color jokes. “So then I says to the mare, ‘that ain’t mustard.’” He laughed uproariously after delivering his punchline. Nopony laughed with him. It seemed his humor was completely unfathomable to all save for the Pony who served as his twin in all things, except for his fur color, despite not being born in the same family. Fortunately, Forward Scout was not here to egg the Pony on. And more than a few of the guards silently offered their prayers of thanks to whatever god they served for that boon.
Another wave of gratitude and relief soon followed as Hammer Strike himself rounded the corner with Moonshade and Pensword on either side of him. The guards were swift to act, forming up on either side in neat lines to allow the trio to pass unmolested. Even as they stood there with the rigid discipline one expects in the military, wandering eyes sought out the new armor and weapons that had been bestowed on Moonshade and Pensword.
“Different response than I expected,” Hammer Strike hummed.
“You do have a reputation,” Moonsahde chuckled.
“Yeah, but I’d rather not deal with that. I would like to just handle this meeting and get back to work.”
“This is probably going to keep happening, Hammer Strike, unless you order them not to around you. We have to train our cadets to act the same way when a superior officer approaches them,” Pensword pointed out.
“Yeah,” Hammer Strike sighed. “Probably for the best to just leave it be.”
Moonshade nodded as she followed.
“As you were,” Pensword said by way of dismissal as they continued on their way through town. They reached the library and the guards watching over the entrance a few minutes later.
“Is Luna around?” Hammer Strike questioned.
“The princess may still be asleep, but if you wish an audience with her, she would prefer to see you immediately. One of us will escort you in and, if necessary, alert her to your arrival.”
“That’ll work. I finished the armor I mentioned, and I figured I would see what she thought of it.”
The guard nodded, and the three companions were easily escorted in. The room was surprisingly dark, save for a candle bobbing at the center table by the wooden horse head. Its flame was a cold and icy blue. In its light, one could almost perceive the glitter of frost on the decoration. Twilight frowned as she stared at the candle while Spike stood nervously behind her. Celestia gazed with curiosity and just a hint of wonder at what had been wrought.
Hammer Strike hummed as he noticed the candle. “Is it safe to assume you performed an aspect exchange, like the book mentions?”
Twilight jumped and yelped in surprise, having been too immersed in her project to hear the door opening. “Um, Hammer Strike. I … didn’t hear you come in.” She smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I decided to apply one of the safer theories labeled in your translation for starters, and to see if I could replicate it with magic instead of this field it mentions.”
“At least it was one of the safer theories.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “But, from just looking at it alone, it seems as though you got it right.”
“These aspects are fascinating. It’s almost like I’ve enchanted the candle, but it can still burn. In theory, since the flame now has its aspect reversed, it can burn indefinitely or until it’s snuffed out, right? Though … does it still feed on air?” she pondered as she stared intently at the flame again.
Celestia smiled warmly. “You’ll have to forgive Twilight. When she finds something interesting, it takes a force of nature to pull her away. Welcome, Hammer Strike, Pensword, Moonshade.”
“Uh, hi,” Spike greeted.
“Hey,” Hammer Strike chuckled. “I’ll leave you three to the experiment, as I planned on showing Luna the armor upgrade I performed for Moonshade.”
Celestia peered intently at the design. “Curious. It seems oddly familiar, but I can't quite place where I’ve seen it before.”
Hammer Strike hummed briefly. “Shouldn’t be, given I made the design myself.” He frowned. “Well, … given what you’ve mentioned before, I suppose it can be possible?”
“Luna will probably be able to tell you more. Armor is her specialty, after all.” She smiled. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you, too.”
“We’ll see, I suppose.”
A loud yawn greeted the group as Princess Luna strode into the room with the guard leading her. She wore none of her vestments this time, having only her astral mane and fur. Although smaller than her sister, she still carried herself with grace and precision that spoke of the warrior spirit within her, despite how dulled it may have been by her sleep.
“Well, not quite how I saw things going,” Hammer Strike commented softly.
“Good day,” Luna offered tiredly.
“Princess,” Pensword greeted. “Sorry for waking you.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “I understand it’s important?”
“I had hoped to have caught you more on the awake side, but I’ve completed Moonshade’s armor, and figured I’d bring it to you for your own review,” Hammer Strike spoke up, gesturing to Moonshade.
Luna looked over the design slowly, her eyes becoming clearer as she took it in. “This design is quite something. How did you finish it so soon?”
“I just … well, worked at my own pace.” Hammer Strike shrugged.
“This resembles the design my Thestrals wore in the Third Gryphon War,” she noted. “Nobody’s been able to replicate it.”
“Because the armor was lost?” Pensword asked.
“The design and the armor was lost. Or at least their original form and durability. There are some pieces that have survived. I checked when preparing to outfit my guards, but they’re not usable for proper combat anymore.”
“Nobody could recreate it?” Hammer Strike questioned.
“Not a soul.” She shook her head.
He hummed in thought briefly before finally asking, “... Who made it originally?”
“... You did.”
“Ah.” Hammer Strike blinked a few times. “I … guess I wouldn’t have left many blueprints for them.”
Luna lit her horn, bringing in an old rolled up parchment. “This is one of the very, very few schematics you ever left behind. People have tried for literal centuries to translate and decode it, but no one has been able to. You had a habit of using multiple languages in your encoding, including one that has no written equivalent known on Equis.” She floated the schematic to him.
Hammer Strike unrolled the parchment carefully and examined it a few times. Finally, he placed it on a nearby table and reached into his coat, pulling out a scroll. He unrolled it and proceeded to compare side by side. Careful scrutiny revealed the similar style of blueprint, down to the factor of using several languages. The older one, however, was dotted with languages that he hadn’t even seen yet. The most he could get out of it in a single sentence was a line at the bottom written in Latin wishing himself luck.
“Thanks, me,” he muttered sarcastically with a small nod. Finally, he sighed. “Yeah, that’s definitely a design from me.”
“So, you see what I mean. The armor was damaged over time and eventually lost its form when nobody could maintain it adequately ”
“Fair enough. I might need to look into some public blueprints. Or once I know all of the ciphers I use, a way to decrypt it.”
“Well then, as Lunar Princess, I’m going to commission two hundred suits of armor for the Lunar Guard,” she said. “To be delivered as soon as you can.”
“You…” Hammer Strike took a moment before rubbing the side of his head. “You do realize I’m not the same level of smith as my future/past self is, right?”
“I will not rush you. Take the time you need.” She smiled. “I have total faith in you.”
Hammer Strike sighed. “I’ll try. I’ll probably have to send for quite a number of shipments of metal. That, and this will take a lot of time. I’m only one stallion.”
“Time, we have. As for metal, just requisition whatever you need.”
“I’ll be sure to do so when I start.” He nodded. “Honestly, though, I had anticipated a test of the armor Moonshade’s wearing, not quite … being commissioned for two hundred of them.”
“I’m a fair judge of armor and weapons myself,” Luna noted. “I have a finely honed eye for quality. And I can definitely see the quality in this.”
“Fair enough.” Hammer Strike nodded. “In that case, that was the main thing I came over here to cover. If there is nothing else, we’ll leave you to your rest.”
“Very well.” Luna nodded with a yawn. “Let me know if you need anything more.”
The studio where Octavia Melody and her partner Vinyl Scratch resided had one extra occupant that afternoon as Grif looked over the cellist once more to stress the importance of his commission.
“So make sure you have those songs ready for New Year’s,” he said, then strode toward the door.
The gray mare nodded. “Rest assured, you can count on us. Music is our specialty.”
Grif nodded his thanks, then strode out into the afternoon sun. The snow sparkled with just a hint of slush running along the edges of the streets that lay beyond the path leading into the studio. “Well that’s everything for now,” he muttered to himself, then checked his watch. “And I’ve still got some time. Might as well hit the arcade.”
It didn’t take long to arrive. By now, he felt like an old hand in the air. When the warrior finally found his way inside the building, he was surprised to find a certain brown colt intently staring at a flashing screen. A sign on the side of the machine said that the game would go to the one with the highest score after two days. One could see that the cabinet was a little dinged, and it looked old. Still, it seemed like Button Mash was working hard to beat the score that was taped under the sign.
“How goes the battle?” Grif asked his friend as he approached.
Button Mash grunted as he moved a joystick and tapped a few buttons in rapid succession to keep raising his score. It wasn’t exactly a greeting, but it was close enough for a gamer in the zone who couldn’t afford to break away. It was a greeting Grif understood only too well, having been there himself a few times.
“Good to hear.” Grif smiled and made his way toward the inner part of the arcade. He hadn’t been able to come here as much as he would have liked. But even in those few short times, he had identified several strangely similar games. He looked over at a filly playing Wrench Brothers. Another foal was playing Barrel Tosser, featuring Pipe Wrench. Pac-Pony ate its way to victory in one corner, and even Pong appeared to be a popular game.
As he continued to browse, the Gryphon heard a crow of victory from the front. Grif couldn’t help but chuckle at the sound, and more importantly the sight as the victorious colt leaped so high that he could be seen above the rest of the consoles, even as his beanie cap whirled and buzzed with his excitement. Having not decided on a game just yet, Grif decided to return to the front and congratulate his young friend in person.
“So who had that score anyway?” he asked.
“Button Bash.” Button Mash continued to grin “I beat it. I beat it all on my own. And now I get to play it whenever I want at home!” The elation lasted for all of five more seconds before it dimmed, and he frowned. “But I have to keep the top score till the contest ends today, and I’ve gotta go home soon. Mom doesn’t like it when I’m late. He looked pained for a moment as he fished out a small bag from beside the console. It jingled suggestively with the sound of bits. “I earned it, but if someone else takes it, I don’t know if I can come back in time to win it back.” He swallowed heavily. “If … if I give you half my allowance, can you play the game for me till the arcade closes?”
“Keep your money Button.” Grif laughed as he took up position at the control panel. “Actually, you know what? Don’t keep it. Buy Sweetie Belle a milkshake instead.”
Button blinked in confusion. “If it means keeping my score and getting my own arcade cabinet, then I’ll do anything. I still don’t get why you want me to do that for Sweetie Belle, though.”
“Oh, I have my reasons,” Grif promised mischievously. “Go. Run. I’ll take care of things here.”
Button Mash hugged the Gryphon. “Thanks again, Grif. You’re always around to save the day.” Then he dashed out the arcade and into the streets, only to topple a few moments later. The crash could be heard inside the arcade, but it was soon followed by, “Hey, a bit!”
Grif chuckled to himself as he looked at the screen and booted up the game for the first time with the rhythmic sound of a coin falling through its slot. “You done good, Grif. Now you just need to concentrate on losing…”
Pensword strode into the Punch Bowl with a frown on his face as he read over the letter Moonshade had left for him at the parade grounds. Once again, the mare had taken her mandatory sleep day to maintain her body’s functions. But it seemed she still had something she wanted the Pegasus to do.
Meet me in the cellar tonight. There are some things we need to talk about.
~ Major Moonshade
“Things we need to talk about,” Pensword mused to himself as he strode toward an expectant Berry Punch. “Does it have something to do with the troops?”
“Get down there and maybe you’ll find out,” Berry said. “And another thing. Don’t get any ideas and start opening my bottles while you’re down there. I have a firm look but don’t touch policy.”
Pensword saluted with a wing. “Yes, Ma’am,” he promised. “But … why would you expect us to open your wares without permission, let alone without paying?”
Berry groaned and rolled her eyes. “Colts.” She raised the door separating her side of the counter from Pensword’s side. “Just get down there. It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.”
“... Yes, Ma’am,” Pensword replied again, albeit slower this time. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to get on the mare’s nerves, but he knew better than to tempt fate and potentially make it worse when she had been housing them for such a long time.
The stairs were dim, but not dark, thanks to the light that poured down from above and a softer light emanating from the bottom of the stairs. A single dusty round table sat with a pair of wooden chairs waiting to be used. A small cluster of candles at varying stages of melting were bunched together on a grimy metal platter already speckled with the remnants of their predecessors. Moonshade wasn’t in her armor this time, and the sight of her glossy fur and luminous eyes made Pensword’s heart jump somewhere between anxiety and something else he couldn’t quite put his metaphorical finger on.
“Major,” he greeted her formally as he removed his helmet and placed it on the table. “I came as soon as I could. You said you needed to speak with me?”
“I realized that we should probably go over some things you should know as Pensword,” she explained.
“I assume you mean more than what history books and a few fights have taught me,” Pensword guessed. His heart rate slowed, but for some reason, he felt a sense of … almost disappointment? “I assume this will take a while, given the fact you had chairs prepared,” he said as he sat down. “Where did you want to begin?”
“Well let's start with the basics of Thestral culture and what makes it different from Pegasus culture.”
Pensword nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“First of all, whereas military ability is first and foremost in Pegasus culture, family is paramount to Thestrals,” she explained. “Every grouping is treated as family, be they actual families, villages, tribes, etc.”
“So all Thestrals treat each other as brothers and sisters without exception?” Pensword asked.
“There are always outliers.” She shook her head. “But yes, for the most part.”
“Okay, so what next?”
“Seeing as we are omnivores with leanings to carnivores, we tend to hunt in large groups. We get what meat we can from insects or animals, though fruit bats in particular are generally a prized meal for us.”
“I’m guessing that’s part of why a lot of Ponies usually were scared of you?” Pensword guessed.
She nodded. “Same reason they’re scared of Gryphons and other carnivores.”
“But has any Thestral actually ever done that before?”
“Of course not. At least not in any history we hold. And that goes back a very long way.” She shook her head. “But Ponies tend to spread stories.”
“We’ve noticed that,” Pensword said. “I believe Zecora is an example, if memory serves.”
She nodded. “The Pegasi once had personal issues with us being warriors, as they are as well, so that also led to problems.”
“Wouldn’t they respect you as fellow warriors rather than trying to hurt you, though?”
“You’d think so, but Pegasi are very prideful.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Pensword admitted. “Rainbow Dash keeps blowing her horn and talking about ‘twenty percent cooler.’”
“She’s harmless,” Moonshade laughed.
“I meant the pride part, Moonshade,” Pensword deadpanned.
“Fair enough.” The Thestral shrugged. “Still, we made some progress up until Princess Luna fell.”
“And then?”
“Well, between Princess Luna's fall to the nightmare and a few of our kind being corrupted by its power, Ponies became untrusting. A good deal of our tribes as a whole left to hide with only a small number staying to wait for the princess’ return.”
“And I’m guessing that with her gone, those Ponies returned to the old ways of government for Thestrals?”
“For the most part, yes.”
“So the family decided to work together to protect itself. But ... if everyone is a brother or sister, then how do they decide who leads?”
“Combat usually, though smaller clans within a tribe also have other methods.”
“And how many tribes are there within the Thestral tribe? The main ones, I mean. I know you said that the tribes sort of break down into smaller ones.”
“I think we went over this once already in that history book I gave you, but I’ll do it again to refresh your memory. The seven main tribes in our clans are the bear, the dragon, the lion, the serpent, the fox, the wolf, and the manticore. They make up the principle tribes of Thestral civilization. And all are led by the Great Bear.”
“So, the Bear Tribe leads the rest?”
She chuckled. “No. They are the lesser bear,” she explained. “The Great Bear is the ursa major. It’s symbolic of the rare time we have a high chief.”
“The main leader?” Pensword guessed.
She nodded. “Princess Luna is the one who occupies that office now.”
“What happens when you don’t have a high chief, then?”
“The tribal chiefs run things as a council.”
“And what happens if a tribe member doesn’t agree with a course of action decided by their chief?”
“It will be talked about, but in the end, the chiefs have the final say.”
“Are there many rogue Thestrals in your history?” Pensword asked curiously.
“Not a lot, but a few.” She shrugged. “No species is perfect, after all.”
Pensword nodded. “I think that’s a universal fact.”
“There are a few other things to discuss, of course, but for now, I think it would be appropriate to shift our focus to the history of Thestrals associated with your namesake.” She smiled then. “Tell me, human, have you ever heard of a place called Mountainside Falls?”
The rapid beat of hammer against wood drifted over the parade grounds of the makeshift fortress as Pensword flew lazily toward the compound. Now that he’d adjusted to his wings, the itch to fly had become almost instinctive. The active flow of magic through his wings and body was at once relaxing and stimulating. No wonder Rainbow Dash preferred the clouds. “Not that I’d ever admit that little epiphany,” he murmured with a smirk. That was when he noticed a familiar black shape and several smaller pastelle shapes flitting around the bare-bones structure of … something at least three stories tall. Closer inspection revealed even more workers shoring up the base, along with a much taller bipedal figure in a familiar blue coat carrying a satchel that looked full to bursting at the seams that was harnessed to his body. The glint of cold steel shone dully in the winter sun as Ponies carried far smaller pouches and saddlebags to add to the growing pile of processed ore waiting for whatever job the smith lord had in mind. The other Ponies sighed in relief as they were relieved of their burdens. Pensword couldn’t help but balk, however, when he saw the sheer volume Shawn had been carrying using nothing but the strength of his back and torso. The air rang with the clatter of steel, even as Pensword flew at a speed almost akin to Grif’s initial dive to defeat Rainbow Dash in the race to Ponyville.
“What the flaming Tartarus are you doing?” Pensword’s voice came out practically in a squawk as he zipped around his friend to check for any potential strains or injuries.
“Now, I’m not an expert, but I believe the proper term is … hauling?” Grif said as he descended on the excited Pegasus. “Oh, wait, no, he’s actually in charge. That’d probably be overseeing.” The Gryphon raised a brow at Pensword’s frantic behavior. “Relax, Pensword. Lord Shawn is fine. He’s been hauling that much for at least five trips now.”
“Five trips? Bad enough that it was just one!”
“He’s fine, Pensword.” Grif rolled his eyes. “Tell him you’re fine, m’lord. Otherwise, he’s liable to go into one of his fits and start throwing his weight around.”
“I’ll be fine, Pensword,” Shawn remarked with a sigh. “This isn’t even straining me.”
“I’d expect this of an Earth Pony, not a human. Do you have any idea the number of muscles and joints you could be destroying right now?”
“We should probably carry on as normal till he wraps his head around it,” Grif suggested. “That, or we can threaten to bring Pinkie Pie into it.”
“Don’t you dare!” Pensword said quickly.
“Then calm down, Pensword. He’s fine. Something about a unique form of magic he can use,” Grif said pointedly.
Pensword blinked in surprise. “Magic?”
Grif sighed and settled to the ground. “While he works out what we’re trying to say, how about we get down to designs for ease of descent? I’m thinking zip lines.”
“That will have to come later, as we’d need proper anchors and such.” Shawn frowned. “Then there’s the fact not everyone can exactly use it, and the one suggesting it can fly.”
“It’s still cool. Besides, I think the humans would appreciate it.”
“No, Grif.”
Grif sighed regretfully. “All right. How about dumbwaiters, then? Gotta get food up to those people manning the mechanism somehow. And the convenience makes it even better. Otherwise, you’ll have to rely on someone who can levitate the food, soldiers’ rations, or Pegasi constantly flying back and forth with the meals and dishes.”
“That, … actually can work.” Shawn nodded. “Though I’ll need to come up with a design for it.”
“You could always enhance the current designs the kingdom has instead. It’s easier than starting from scratch,” Pensword said. “And we could also install them in the barracks potentially if we keep building more floors for them, too.”
“Welcome back, Pensword.” Grif grinned.
“I’m still upset with you two,” Pensword groused.
“It’s not like we had time to tell you with all those meetings you’ve been having with a certain Major lately,” Grif teased.
“Just what is all this about, anyway?” Pensword asked, smoothly dodging the Gryphon’s pointed remark.
“Oh, I wonder.” Shawn chuckled as he went about his work.
“Are you two trying to insinuate something here?” Pensword asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know. Are we trying to insinuate something?” Grif asked Shawn.
“Again. Oh, I wonder,” Shawn repeated.
“If one of you doesn't tell me what you’re doing, I’ll order one of the workers to,” Pensword said with just a hint of a sulk.
“We’re building the skeleton of the modular bridge and gatehouse,” Shawn explained. “I need to ensure everything works out correctly in space, rather than just on paper.”
“And the steel is for a portcullis?” Pensword guessed.
“We’re not fully recreating it here, but it will be used in the reinforcement of several parts.”
“Does that mean the forge is finally functional here?”
“The Ponyville Outpost has a fully operational forge at last.”
“Why is it that whenever you bring up forges, you always seem to smile?”
“Why is it that whenever we bring up trains, you grin like the Cheshire cat?” Grif countered the Pegasus.
“Touché, Grif. Touché. But please, at least tell me that we’re following proper safety guidelines,” the Pegasus pleaded.
“Of course we are.” Shawn smirked, then spoke in English. “A shame OSHA doesn’t exist here.”
Pensword’s left eye began to twitch with just a hint of a raise of his lips on the left side of his muzzle to expose the teeth. “I … I … I think I finally understand how Twilight feels when these attacks come on.”
“I can give you a hard smack if that’ll help. Usually works for most technology I’ve encountered,” Grif noted. “And most heads.”
Shawn chuckled. “Percussion Maintenance works on people too, after all.”
“Don’t you dare!” Pensword raised his wings, ready to take flight. Curiously enough, the twitching stopped in the same instant.
“And there we go. He’s cured. By the way, m’lord, you owe me fifty bits,” Grif said with a triumphant smirk.
Shawn didn’t bother to reply. He just reached into his coat and tossed a small sack at the Gryphon.
“You’re too kind, m’lord,” Grif said with a mocking bow. “I’ll make sure to return any extra to your chest.”
“I take no responsibility if the overflow falls atop of you and causes harm.”
“... Just how long have you two been waiting for me to have a breakdown?” Pensword asked.
“...When did we arrive in Ponyville again?” Shawn asked Grif.
“Months ago.”
“Yeah, that long.”
Pensword snorted his frustration and stomped a hoof. “We still need to meet proper safety levels. I don’t want to be responsible for putting somepony in the hospital if something goes wrong with the model.”
“Oh, don’t worry, everyone else is following proper safety protocol. We are still subject to the crown’s laws, after all, and that includes building codes.”
“Magically reinforced equipment included,” Grif added as he pointed at Shawn’s carrying sack. “How else do you think this thing didn’t give into the weight and bulk before?”
Pensword sighed in defeat. “Then carry on, I guess. Unless you two could use an extra set of hooves?”
“I think we’ve got this down.” Shawn hummed as he looked over the remaining parts and materials for the project. “Shouldn’t take much longer as is.”
Pensword nodded. “Then I guess I’ll leave you to it. I need to check on my troops anyway before Moonshade and I coordinate on next steps and a potential social studies course to add to the curriculum.”
Shawn and Grif shared a knowing smile.
The occasion was hardly a solemn one. Daylight streamed through the windows, and the cheerful warmth of the library and its many books was a welcome comfort. Tea and cocoa steamed on their trays and saucers while the Ponies gathered in their respective places. However, one could easily cut the tension in the room with a knife. Princess Luna and Celestia sat calmly as they always did. They didn’t have to do a thing to intimidate most Ponies. Their sheer royal presence and the aura of power they wielded often stunned most Ponies. Though they still loved, trusted, and adored their monarchs.
Mayor Mare, however, was still not used to dealing with royalty. And though she had overcome the trauma of Nightmare Moon’s visit, that did not always make it easy when dealing with Princess Luna’s visits. One can move beyond an event, but the memories can still linger and trigger with the proper stimulus. Naturally, this simply meant the three leaders would need to act on common ground to help break that tension properly. And as a tactician, Luna knew just where to start.
“Sister, I was wondering, where should we hold the New Year’s Celebration?” Even as she asked, she looked curiously at the board game that had been left behind in Twilight’s haste to give the princesses the room they needed for their audience with Mayor Mare.
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the venues here at Ponyville. I’ve only stayed here a few times before. Mayor Mare?” Celestia asked. “What would you suggest?”
“To be honest, I was trying to figure that out myself,” Mayor Mare replied nervously. “The community hall isn’t big enough to handle the sudden influx of ponies.”
Celestia winced. “I’m afraid that may have been my fault,” she admitted. “I hope the staff I sent to assist Lord Shawn in his work haven’t been too troublesome to house.”
“Oh, no, not at all!” Mayor Mare said hastily. “Ponyville tends to gather more guests around New Year’s naturally. It’s just that, in most cases, it’s mainly just extended families, like the Apple Family. This year just happens to be a bit more than usual.”
“Perhaps we could see if Lord Shawn would be willing to allow us to use his barracks as a venue?” Celestia suggested. “Military installations are generally well built and can accommodate large numbers.”
“If they’ve built it according to the more recent traditional plans, then I imagine it should have a gathering hall of adequate size,” Luna mused before taking a sip of coco and sighing contentedly. “I really must give my thanks to the Cakes before we leave. Their marshmallows are enough to send me into the dream realm and back again.”
Celestia nodded. “I suppose it’s a possibility.” Then she frowned. “Though they seem to have been doing a great deal of construction lately. I’m not certain whether they would be considered safe to allow the public near or not.”
“Lord Shawn sent in a request for that a week ago. Though it was only for a section of land a small distance away from the installation. I haven’t seen it personally, but he listed it as a testing ground for something … modular?”
“If it can be seen from above, I wonder what he has in mind. Do you think it might have something to do with plans for the castle?” Luna asked.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t give you the answer for that one. Honestly, it’s been quite strange to even have a military installation added to Ponyville in the first place.”
“I assume it has been useful overall, however. Not only for the sake of an added defense for Ponyville, but also from an economical perspective, provided proper respect is given to those who live here. Have the trainees been treating you well?” Luna asked.
“At first, they were a little … difficult to interact with. However, after some time passed, they settled into their roles and have been giving proper respect.”
“We’re glad to hear it,” Celestia said with a reassuring smile. “You and your citizens might be able to give those troops a run for their money, regardless, after living and thriving so close to the Everfree Forest for such a long time.”
“There have certainly been some interesting times.” Mayor Mare nodded. “I’m sure it took the founders some time before they could make this town stable to live in, and now there’s to be a town rebuilt within the Everfree Forest. I can only wonder how they’ll all manage. The three humans, Lord Shawn, Matthew, and Taze, seem comfortable with the idea. And it seems like it spread to the others as well.” She pulled at her cravat. “Though I certainly wasn’t expecting literal legends to arrive in the town shortly after them. And to join in as well.”
“Lord Hammer Strike and his companions have always been full of surprises.” Luna smiled wistfully. “It is part of why we love him so much. And why we have missed him over the years.”
“I certainly see that. Within his first week of being here, I heard tales of him destroying a training dummy by accident, followed by showing up a smith who sounded quite … conflicting to work with.” Mayor Mare frowned. “Though the previous part does make me remember something. Has something happened to Matthew? I don’t believe anyone in town has seen him since his visit to Canterlot weeks ago.”
“Unfortunately, his health has taken a turn for the worse. He is under the very best of care, but there is sadly only so much that we can do for him in his current state, given the unique circumstances that surround his ailment,” Celestia replied.
“Oh. I … wish him the best in his recovery. I suppose that explains why the others have been working so hard.” She frowned.
“In part,” Luna agreed. “It is important to know that he still lives, however. And that gives them all hope as well. In time, we may yet find a cure. And I am confident that when we do, it will be as though he never left.” To divert attention away from the grim topic and to keep the mayor from pondering the implications further, Luna quickly segwayed. “Speaking of preserving life and wellbeing, however, one does wonder. Why haven’t you requested the presence of guards from the capital to defend your homes in the event of an incursion from the forest’s denizens?”
“It was partially due to the budget, and partially due to the nature of the town. We’ve been self reliant for some time, and haven’t needed to request a guard presence. I will admit, though, recent activity from the forest may make everypony think again about it.”
“If this training program succeeds, perhaps we might be able to incorporate some of the graduates here to see how they stand or fall without certain influences to get in the way,” Luna noted, looking pointedly at her sister as she took another sip of her coco.
“That would depend entirely on whether or not Mayor Mare and the Apples agree,” Celestia said. “But I will admit I’m not against the idea. However, Mayor Mare, I hope you won’t take that as a request or an order. The authority is yours in this case. And I have no intention of trampling over it.”
“I’ll have a meeting about it and see where the opinions of all stand.” Mayor Mare nodded.
“A sensible course of action,” Celestia agreed. “And much easier to do in a town of honest Ponies compared to the games the nobles play back in Canterlot.”
“I have heard the stories of the … difficulties with some nobility of Canterlot.”
Celestia shrugged. “Such is the nature of government. It’s always messy when Ponies break into parties.”
“Did somepony say PARTY?” Pinkie Pie appeared seemingly out of nowhere in a shower of confetti as she blew a party horn to emphasize her arrival.
“Is this a part of the famous Pinkie sense in action?” Luna asked.
Pinkie Pie shook her head. “My party sense is completely different. Ooh, cocoa!” She quickly brought out a piping bag and squirted a generous helping of whipped cream into Luna’s mug. “I already talked with the Apples about using their barn since everypony’s gonna want to see you, Princess,” the mare pointed out to Celestia. “We can have games, and party favors, and icecream, and cake!” She licked her lips and sighed contentedly as the daydream overcame her. “Creamy, creamy frosting….”
“Sister, I know Twilight Sparkle already tried to analyze Miss Pie to … amusing results, to say the least. But are you sure we shouldn’t have someone more experienced run some tests?” Luna asked.
Celestia shook her head. “It would be extremely rude. Pinkie Pie is a hero of the realm, after all. And if her sense can be of use to the residents of Ponyville, then I think she should embrace her gift and use it to the best of her ability.”
“That’s me all right! Baking tiers and spreading cheers all over Ponyville. I am the giggle that brightens your day. I am the cupcake that makes you smile after a twelve-hour shift! I. AM. Pinkie Pie!” With each phrase, she zoomed toward each of the table’s occupants in turn, manifesting a tablecloth to form a makeshift cape as she carried on with her dramatics until the very end when she flung the cloth off to reveal her party cannon behind her pointed upward to blast the air with confetti and a light show paired perfectly with her incredibly wide trademark Pinkie grin.
Celestia chuckled. “You don’t need to impress us, Pinkie Pie. We already know your skills.”
“Oh, that wasn’t for you. That was for them.” She waved her hoof in greeting toward a random place, winked, then returned to the three leaders. “Now, let’s get ready to PARTY!”
Mayor Mare looked to the Princesses, smiled, and shrugged. “Shall we begin?”
The night air was cold and empty, the sky devoid of most clouds. The Pegasi on weather duty had made sure of it before they went to bed. It was a night rendered quiet by the nature of the cold and the muffling blanket of snow. All the lands were asleep below. But the starry heavens above burned bright with light and life in the midst of that strange sleep. A dream, perhaps, for the land to enjoy as it waited for the day when it could spring forth again.
Pensword crept through that stillness with the aid of his wings and what practice he had been able to manage in his free time. The art of stealth did not come easily, as Moonshade was only too happy to remind him during their lesson tonight. Now that he had parted from her company, he found himself feeling … strangely empty. And in that emptiness, he felt the digging of spades as the faces of his mother, father, uncle, and other family flooded his thoughts until the wellspring was tapped, unleashing tears to fall from his eyes. “I missed Christmas with you. Are you all okay?” he murmured to himself, even as he gazed at his hoof, an appendage so alien to the hands he’d been raised with. He would never see those fingers again.
So caught up was he in this sudden wave of melancholy and homesickness that he didn’t recognize the irregularity for several minutes.
The cloud wasn’t particularly big. It was just large enough for a Pegasus to build a small house on it. One might think a Pegasus could have built a temporary structure in order to rest for the night before moving on in their travels. Many Pegasi did that when they didn’t have the funds to afford public transport. However, such Pegasi would have been noted by the guards that surrounded Ponyville. And Moonshade never mentioned such a report.
This bore further research.
It didn’t take long to reach the top. The surface of the cloud was different compared to what he was used to. Rather than the fluffy sensation he had come to experience with clouds reinforced by magic, he felt a wet curtain, a true mist that writhed and sifted and roiled like a fog bank over a moore. And at the very heart of that curtain, a familiar structure stood as remote in its solitude as the stars shining above. It was a blue police box.
It was the blue police box.
“Not what I expected, but definitely better than the alternatives,” Pensword murmured. It was all too evident why the cloud had formed in a zone that was not meant to have any. The “magic” of science was at work.
Then came the loud creak as the door began to pull back on its hinges. Pensword leaped behind the box out of reflex as a strange figure emerged into the night. The body that stood on the cloud was that of an elderly Pegasus. His coat of fur was a pale gray that bordered on white, and the black in his mane and tail were faded with the countless years he had lived. It would appear that this incarnation was made to embody that infinite sense of tiredness that comes with the weight of all those years. He wore a gray turtleneck and a roosevelt cap that tipped down to shadow his eyes. As in all his incarnations, the symbol of an hourglass remained on his flank to identify him for his race and unique attributes. Here stood a Time Lord, The Lonely God, The Last Child of Gallifrey, The Doctor.
And he was, surprisingly, still alone.
The Doctor let out a tired sigh filled with not only the weight of his many years, but of a loss as deep and immovable as the rock of ages. “Happy Anniversary, Derpy.” He smiled sadly. “Four hundred and fifty. Can you believe it?” He sighed. “Our little girl’s gone off on her own adventures to save the universe now. You’d be real proud of her, you know. She’s a proper Time Mare. She’s even saved me a couple of times, if you can believe it. She takes after you like that.”
“I see I’m not the only one who’s missing his family tonight.”
The Doctor jumped in surprise at first until he saw Pensword’s cutie mark. “Oh, it’s you. I didn’t expect any of you to be here at this hour.”
Pensword shrugged. “Stealth lessons with Moonshade.”
“Stealth Lessons. Is that what you call them in the military these days?”
“Aren’t they in every era?” Pensword asked, confused at the doctor’s question.
“No, I’m fairly certain it’s usually called a date. How did you foals say it again? ‘I ship it?’”
“We’re not dating,” Pensword insisted flatly. “And I’d say my stealth must be improving. I surprised you, after all.”
The Doctor smiled. “You spent, or spend, a great deal of time with her in much more than your official capacity, Pensword. I know this isn’t your native culture, but customs are fairly similar between your *ahem* other incarnation and this one. Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Boy discovers tragic circumstances that forbid their union. And ultimately, true love triumphs in the end….”
“What was that?”
“True love triumphs in the end?”
“Before that.”
“Boy meets girl.”
“After that.”
“Boy falls in love with girl.”
“Later.”
“True love triumphs?”
“... You know what, just forget it. I don’t think I want to know.”
“You will one day, though.” He looked up at the stars. “It really is a beautiful sight. I remember the first time I tried to explain what a star really is, and how it works, to Derpy.” A smile curled his lips and tweaked his eyes with the happy glow of a long-forgotten memory. “She likened them to bubbles. Bubbles, of all things!” He chuckled. “Bubbles come in all shapes and sizes, she said. And they shine to bring happiness to others. Absolutely remarkable, that mare.” Then he sighed. “I don’t think there’ll ever be anyone quite like her again.”
“Probably not,” Pensword agreed. “But there will be those who were touched by her. And what she taught them will spread like ripples in a pond. And one of those ripples, at least, has already turned into a wave from your perspective.”
“Look at you being optimistic.” He smiled. “I missed that about you. Hold onto that. You’ll need it where you’re going.”
“Knowing you, you won’t be any clearer than that dire foreshadowing, will you?”
“Naturally. That’s part of the fun. If I wanted to be cruel, I’d tell you what was coming. But,” he sighed, “that would be spoilers. I can tell you this much, though, you’re on the right track asking Luna about that change. Don’t put off the request for too long. You’ll need those skills you’re learning from your marefriend.”
“She’s just a friend.”
“Yes. A friend who’s a mare. That’s what I said.”
Pensword rolled his eyes. “I’m guessing you can’t tell me much about my family.”
“I can tell you they’re fine. And they will be fine in the future. Oh, they’ll have their ups and downs, but everyone does.”
“Thank you. That makes this at least a little bit easier.”
“There may be one more thing I can tell you. You can share it with the others if you like. Think of it as a thankyou for being here when I needed someone.” He rubbed his chin in thought. When he’d finally gotten things put together properly in his mind, he spoke. “Like me, you and your friends are on a journey. And it may seem long, challenging, and extremely strange, but it’s always going to one place and one time. For me, it was home. For you and your friends, it will be the same.”
“Will I ever be able to be human again?”
“I’m a Timelord. I change into something new every time I regenerate.” He shook his head. “Let me tell you something, Pensword. It doesn’t matter what form you’re in, what personality you take, what new habits you pick up. What matters, and always will, are the parts of you that you keep with you in every step. You may not remember them. You may not even be aware of them. But they’re always there, waiting for the right moment to show themselves. Don’t be afraid of change. It shouldn’t be a question of whether you’ll be human again. It should be a question of what you will choose to be next. I don’t usually get to make that choice. Not consciously, anyway.” He gave a rueful smile. “I still haven’t gotten to be a Zebra yet. You and your friends, however, do have choices. So don’t squander the opportunity with regrets and what-ifs. Life is important. And it’s something that should be lived, not worried or coddled over. Otherwise, you’ll miss the wonders that are right in front of you, just waiting to be explored. Even if they don't realize they’re asking to be.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about the view anymore?” Pensword asked.
“Why indeed?” He looked up at the stars again. “I wonder. Yes, why, indeed.”
“Will I still be me? I mean, will Matthew still be one of those parts that carries over in all of this?”
“Funny thing about names.” The doctor laughed. “Ponies are so much different than Time Ponies when it comes to them. We can take but one name, and then a title. But a Pony can have many names, yet they are as dust to the winds of time. It’s almost unfair when you consider it.”
“Almost like having to say goodbye to someone you love?”
“No.” The Doctor shook his head. “That’s much worse. It’s more than unfair. It’s cruel. But it still needs to happen. Everything has its time. Everything ends. Someday, eventually, I may get to see her again, when I can finally rest too. But for now, I still have my name, my duty, and my path. I’m The Doctor. I can’t just stop being what I am because I’m sad. Derpy wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I did.”
Pensword nodded as he sat next to The Doctor. “I suppose my family wouldn’t let me hear the end of it either if I didn’t keep trying to find a way back. Or at least a way forward. I know my loss isn’t the same as yours, Doctor. But I still want you to know that I’m sorry.”
The Doctor smiled. “Thank you, Matthew.”
Matthew chuckled. “You know, sometimes, it almost feels more natural to go by Pensword instead.”
“That’s because Matthew is never really gone. You’re one and the same, Pensword. Try to remember that if you can. It may help you later.”
Pensword nodded. “I will, Doctor. I will.”