Generations-Chapter 1

Sweetsong sighed as she looked out the window to the dreary afternoon. This was the third day of rain and the ponies were getting restless from being cooped indoors. This morning there was a brief reprieve from the rain, but as the ponies ran out to enjoy it, they found nothing but a muddy, sticky mess, and were forced to come back inside.

Sweetsong turned. There was a raucous behind her as the twins, Sweetberry and Toola Roola, squabbled over an outfit.

"No..." said Sweetberry, her lips pursed. "The pink shirt is mine. You 'borrowed' it without asking me this morning, and now it's all muddy."

"Fine, then." Toola Roola retorted, "If it is yours, then you can be the one to wash it."

Sweetsong rolled her eyes and turned back to the window in an attempt to tune them out. Usually those two weren�t that bad. In fact, they were very close, but Razzaroo and Tink-a-Tink-a-Too were notorious fighters. They were not twins, but very close in age. They were both spoiled, and very stubborn. Fortunately, each had retreated to separate rooms after a top-of-the-voice, door slamming, all out drag-out earlier this morning.

Since then, the castle had been an eerie hush except for the sound of the rain. Until this recent debate, that is. Although Sweetberry and Toola Roola were not shouting, it was still an unpleasant sound cutting through the stillness.

Sweetsong ignored them and allowed her imagination to carry her out beyond the pasture, over the mountain, and past the sea to where a Prince Charming waited for her. He would be gentlemanly, kind, and of course, handsome. She loved vivid, contrasting colors, and she pictured him that way...

Her pleasant musings were broken up by the din of the argument, and she had a sudden headache. She rose from her window-seat and glared at the twins, but they were too involved in their fight to notice her annoyance. She walked straight in between them, bumping each of them with her shoulders and swishing her tail.

Toola Roola furrowed her brows. "What's her problem?"
 

Sweetsong made her way through the corridors and stairways to her favorite room: the library. The others rarely came in here, and that's the way Sweetsong liked it. She wasn't shy, like Fluttershy. She was just quiet, introverted. She preferred to be alone, and the library was the perfect place for it.

It had high arched ceilings with elegant carvings in the mahogany, beautiful tapestries on the wall and oriental carpets on the floor. And of course, it had books: a compendium of books from all over the world. Unfortunately, most of them could not be read. They were written in an ancient language that was no longer used, or even taught.

Sweetsong was fascinated with the mystery surrounding those books. She longed to know the history of Ponyland, of her ancestors. She wanted to know their stories of romance, betrayal and drama.

Sweetsong grabbed a book from the shelf and blew the dust off. Moondancer, the maid, did clean in here. She regularly dusted the tables, chairs, and mantelpiece, but never bothered with the shelves. There were just too many of them.

Sweetsong caressed the leather binding a moment before opening the large volume. This was yet another in the ancient text. She had read all the books in her language several times already, and although she could not decipher them, she often picked up the ancient ones. They were filled with pictures, not like today's books. The illustrations were all hand-drawn rather than photographs, and most of them seemed to be a work of art unto themselves.

She carried the volume to the fire and lay down on the carpet. She was always much more comfortable there that at the tables. As she flipped the pages, she let her imagination wander and felt a wave of tranquility slip over her. She was soon asleep.
 

There was a soft knock at the door, and then a creak as it opened.

"Sweetsong?" A quiet voice asked. She yawned and stretched. It was Wysteria, her best friend. "It's time for dinner, hon."

Sweetsong smiled. "I guess I fell asleep again. I'll be right there." Wysteria nodded, and quietly left. Sweetsong stretched again and thought about her dream. She didn't remember much about it, just that it was... delicious.

Her prince was in it. He was brilliant. He had a body like the ocean and hair like the sun. He was muscular and tall, and had the deepest blue eyes. She didn't remember what happened in the dream, but she remembered that face. She had it before her when she put the book away; she had it before her as she walked the corridors to the dining room. She pushed the revolving door and was startled by Wysteria, who was just walking back out to check on her. The face faded.

"Oh sorry, hon!" said Wysteria, who was also startled. "Did you have a good nap?" She always knew where to find Sweetsong, and while she didn't share her passion for books or history, she appreciated it and respected it.

"Yup!" Sweetsong smiled. She loved Wysteria. They had an amazing bond between them. They could understand each other perfectly without saying a word.

Wysteria was a little more outgoing than Sweetsong. She wasn't exactly chatty though. She was just the type of person that felt comfortable in any situation. She was so sweet; she liked everyone and everyone liked her.

Sweetsong looked around the room. There was Amberlocks, gossiping with a group of friends, (hair stylists always gossip, you know) and Wishawhirl right next to her. He had a huge crush on Amberlocks and practically attached himself to her hip. Everyone in Ponyville knew about his crush except her. Her group of friends included Bubblecup, who was kindof a ditz, Applejack, Breezy, and Lickety Split, none of whom Sweetsong knew very well, only in passing.

On the other side of the room were the mischief makers, consisting of ringleaders Rainbow Dash and Spring Parade; there was also Sparkleworks, Daisy Jo, and Serendipity. Individually, these were all very nice, well behaved ponies. But when they got together, there was trouble afoot. Rainbow Dash was the brains. He would come up with some caper and tell Spring Parade. He, in turn was the muscle. Whether it was carrying out the deed himself, or convincing the three younger girls to do it. Sparkleworks was his little sister, and she worshipped him. Her best friends were Daisy Jo, who had a crush on Rainbow Dash though he had nothing but disdain for her, and Serendipity, who simply didn't want to be left out.

The older boys didn't care for the three girls following them around all the time and frankly, most of their pranks were on them. Those that weren't, they used the girls to be go-fers, or to catch the blame for the deed. Sweetsong wished that the girls would someday wake up and not hang around those two; but rather than interfere, she just tried to avoid them all.

Beebop and Piccolo were the musicians. Shenanigans was the clown, always doing something silly to get attention and always getting more and more ignored because of that. And Golden Delicious, and his wife Sunny Daze were the chefs. There were several other ponies that Sweetsong had only met once or twice and didn't know that well.

They gathered like this every Sunday at the castle. Royal Ribbon (as well as Moondancer) took up residence in the castle, though she did not own it. In fact, no one owned it, or had for many years past. Royal Ribbon served as the housekeeper. Everyone else had their own homes in Ponyville, but this was a way for everyone to keep in touch and not get too wrapped up in their own lives. During the week, the castle functioned as town meeting center, and since it was far grander in scale than any building in the town, everyone knew where to find it.

It was situated just outside Ponyville, and behind it the cliffs rose abruptly from the valley. There was a small stream (which was now a river due to the rain) running along the front of the castle, making a natural moat. The castle itself was built of grey stone, with battlements, towers, and a belfry at the top.

Ponyville and the castle were at the south end of Dream Valley, which extended north with lush pastures until it reached the foothills beyond. The north end was not nearly as sharp as the cliffs in the south. The hills gently gave way to the Snowy Mountains in the northeast, and to an ocean in the northwest. Or so it was said, for none had ever ventured so far.

The company was now gathered around the long table, far long enough to seat everyone in the town. The scene was pleasant while everyone ate and mingled. Sweetberry and Toola Roola had made up from there brief tiff this afternoon, and even Razzaroo and Tink-a-Tink-a-Too were being civil.

By the time everyone began to leave, the rain had finally cleared and a brilliant moon shone to light the walk home. As Sweetsong and Wysteria said goodnight at her house, Sweetsong again thought of her prince from the dream and smiled to herself, though the image was not nearly so clear now as it was. Unfortunately, that's how dreams are: fleeting. She hastened herself to sleep to dream of him once again.
 

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