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Trade
Pinkie Pie led the way.
Twilight was pulled along like a little rowboat caught up in her wake, victim to each twist and turn down secretive alleys, scraping the edges of dark waves that were never found in the proper parts of Canterlot.
“Hey, do you know where we’re going?” Twilight called out, panting as she rushed forward to keep pace, pushing past a plume of smoke being coughed out from a metal pipe that had sprung a leak.
“Twilight?” Pinkie called back.
“Yeah!” Twilight confirmed her existence.
“We’re friends, right?” Pinkie trotted along.
Twilight slowed.
She sighed.
Pinkie, too, came to a halt, swivelling around to face her friend.
She tilted her head.
“Yes, Pinkie,” Twilight said with a note of exasperation. “Yes. Yes. Yes again.”
“Then trust me.” Pinkie smiled, in a specific sort of manner. It was a smile neither too eager nor too subtle – it was controlled grin whose gist Twilight took immediate note of.
Twilight grunted, casting her eyes to a dead rat that lay along the wall. Her brow fell weakly.
“Right. Right. Sorry,” Twilight muttered. “Just that, you’ve been asking that a lot recently. And I don’t know why. Have I done something to you or something?”
“No!” Pinkie gasped, her eyes widening. “No. Of course not! I didn’t ask you to come along today because I don’t trust you, did I?”
“Then why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Twilight frowned.
“Because there’s nothing wrong!” Pinkie continued to smile, shifting her weight to another hoof. “Look, you know that planning a surprise party usually takes it out of me! I just want to make sure everything’s just perfect!”
“I said to stop calling it that,” Twilight pursed her lips.
“But it is a surprise!”
“Yeah but it’s my party, isn’t it? And I know about it, don’t I? And I’m the only one you told, aren’t I!”
“Yeah but… it’s a surprise for everyone else.” Pinkie blinked.
Twilight’s sigh was glacial.
“Look,” she said, as soon as her hoof left her face, “can we just get this over with? This place seems really shady. I don’t know where you heard of this so-called ‘bakery’ from, but Princess Celestia warned me about this part of Canterlot, and I think that dead rat just moved.”
“I read about it in a book!” Pinkie nodded.
“A book.”
“Yep! Reeeeemember when I borrowed your library last week?” Pinkie grinned.
“Ah. Well. I guess if you found it in a book, it’s probably legitimate… right?” Twilight rubbed the back of her head.
“Yep! So don’t you worry about it! Besides, I can count on the big bad princess to save me if anything happens, right?”
Pinkie’s eyes shut in honest joviality. She let out a slight chuckle — a tinkling of bells that coursed through the narrow, lonely alleyway. She was always good with her expressions. She always had the perfect one for every situation.
Twilight couldn’t help but smile in return, if only just a little.
“Sure, Pinkie. Alright. I’m here for you. Because we’re friends.”
“That’s right. We are…” Pinkie nodded, turning back to face the path. “Right! It should be around the corner just here, and–”
The corner was rounded, and the two came across more of the same winding courseways they had just traversed over the past ten minutes. They were valleys that were watched over by the backs of establishments and homes whose windows never opened, whose faces were marred by twisting cracks and burning pipelines.
The area was in the less-frequented industrial sector of Canterlot, the place that the well-to-dos kept away from because no one needed to know how things worked, really, as long as the fancy food kept appearing on glistening plates and the latest fashions always appeared in the shops with the big golden doors.
Twilight herself peered up and down the blackened, soot-covered cobblestones, almost as if gauging them for what they truly were, almost as if this were one of her adventures from her youth where she travelled to caves and swamps and far-off places.
This was foreign.
Pinkie bounced along, unaffected by all of it, her cheerfulness always masking furtive thoughts.
And there it was:
A mere doorway, that sunk itself into the wall slipshod and rough-had, tilted at an angle that wasn’t entirely crooked but not exactly straight. It felt as if the door was built only after the wall had already gone up — bricks were coarsely broken around the edges where the wooden frame was hammered in, and the planked door itself seemed to bulge and warp in its rectangular cage.
There was no sign. There were no numbers indicating address. There was merely a door.
“This is it!” Pinkie yelped. “It’s gotta be!”
“Uh…” Twilight murmured.
“Look,” Pinkie ran her hoof across the frame, cooing her impression. “No knob. No sign. The only indication of travel being the scratches along the sides, just as the book said!”
“What… what book was this, again?”
“Legerdemain’s Prestidigitation.” The bubbly pink pony gave her reply, staring with an odd focus at the cracks in the wood, peering at the grain.
“Legerde– wait. That’s… that’s a… I’m sure I’ve heard that name before,” Twilight mumbled.
“Yeah, it’s not really a bakery,” Pinkie said, knocking on one of the planks.
“Wait, what?”
“Yes, but they have what I need and what I want, so don’t worry about it!” Two more knocks, a different plank this time.
“Pinkie, this might be dangerous,” Twilight stated, as she looked cautiously up and down the alleyway. “Listen, I think it might be best if we–”
“Nah, it’s safe! I’m sure of it! Don’t worry!” Pinkie knocked once, again, upon the wood. “But I really needed you here to wait for me, because only one may enter at any one time, okay?”
“W-what?” Twilight stuttered.
“See you in ten minutes, okie?” Pinkie giggled. “Really, I’m sure it’s safe. Just promise to wait for me before you tear the city apart looking for me, alright?”
“Pinkie!”
“Look, I really need to do this, alright?” Pinkie told Twilight.
With one final tap on the door, everything went away.
The alley melted into a sludge of damp and turgid colours, and the frantic, shocked yell of Twilight Sparkle, who just had to make such a fuss about it, garbled into a muffled hum that mixed in with the roar of nothingness until only a void remained.
And then there was a pop.
A bubble burst, far in the gloom.
Pinkie opened her eyes.
And the darkness disappeared.
Pinkie peered over her shoulder, mouth and eyes as round as round could be, noting the lack of a way out of the shop that she now stood in. By all appearances, she might have accidentally stumbled into this place on a dreary Sunday afternoon. It gave off the air of a shop of curious antiquities, with brass baubles lining the rickety shelves that went from floor to ceiling, and the random bits of cloth that blocked the few lamps that bothered to try giving the place a bit of class.
The floor was nicely carpeted in red, and there were a few glass display cases as well, showing odd knick knacks and bric-a-brac from countries far and timelines wide.
Pinkie couldn’t help but break out into one of her patented smiles, the one that showed absolute wonder and a child-like fascination at the world, which never ceased to amuse her.
The bubbling came from an untended cauldron that spat out a green aura and a furious, yet odorless, smoke.
The pony gaited up to it, peering down within, whereupon a hot steam rose up and hit her in the face, through which she saw a thick, emerald brew, black chunks caught up in its clotted bog.
“Cream of mushroom,” came a voice from behind.
“Oh!” Pinkie twirled around. “Oh, but why’s it all green then?”
Standing in front of her was a gentleman, a scholar, a finely-topped stallion in finery galore, from his purple felt suit to his under-sized bowler hat that sat upon his head like a black egg. He wore not one but two monocles, one for each eye, and didn’t seem to give the impression that he quite understood what the point of fashion was, but at least he was trying his best.
The stallion sniffed at Pinkie’s inquisition, wrinkling his nose. His brow scrunched up slightly, and he looked slightly perturbed to be asked such a question.
“Hi!” Pinkie waved.
“Oh, yes, hello,” replied the stallion, shaking his head out of his confusion. “Are you a customer?”
“Is this Trade?” Pinkie asked, stepping forward with eager earnestness.
“Ah, yes. Indeed, Indeed. Hello. This is the shop, and I am the… shopkeeper.” The Shopkeeper nodded.
“Hi! I’m Pinkie!” Pinkie held out a hoof.
“And… I’m the shopkeeper,” The Shopkeeper replied, unmoving.
“Oh! Hello!” Pinkie rescinded her gesture.
“Yes, you’ve… said that. Three times.” The Shopkeeper said tapping the side of his head. “Quite… quite unusual.”
“Well, ah… I mean…” Pinkie muttered.
“Ah, well. No worries,” The Shopkeeper stammered. “Is… that right? Yes. Yes. Now, you’re here, I assume, because you wish to make a trade, yes?”
“Yeppers!” Pinkie said. “And I think, I think… this might be the only place that can help me!”
“Yes, most of our customers do… somewhat think along those lines, of course, as it were,” The Shopkeeper said again, moving to his soup to peer in.
Pinkie watched him as he moved, watched each of his perfectly silent, yet uneven, steps. There was something quite unwell about the stallion, like as if this was the first day he had ever been a person, that he was still breaking it in.
She remained mute. It was the only response she had in the face of someone that not even she could quite puzzle out.
“Um… yes. Quite.” The Shopkeeper continued, replying to nothing. “Alright. I’ll have to go through the rules, then. As a matter of discourse. Somewhat part of the regulations, yes? But we can’t… we can’t have people just come up here and not really know what the deal is. In that way lies danger. Mmmph. Yes.”
The Shopkeeper pulled back from his brew, and swept to his little pulpit, a little wooden stand-y thing from which he retrieved some papers. “Right, right then. Indeed. You are aware of the manner of trade we conduct here?”
“Yeah!” Pinkie said, as her eyes wandered to a jar in the corner. There was something vaguely animal-shaped inside. It wasn’t wriggling, and it wasn’t clear if that was good or bad at this point. “Knowledge for knowledge. I’ll be able to get what I want here, or so the story goes.”
“Yes,” The Shopkeeper said swiftly. “You will, of course, state your request in the official forms, and one piece of knowledge will be traded for another. This includes all auxillary knowledges and sub-knowledges accordingly. The knowledge will be given freely of your own volition, and there are no refunds.”
“What’s that mean?” Pinkie asked, hoof to bottom lip. “All that… auxwilliardy stuff.”
“Ah, yes. Simply put, if you trade your knowledge of what apples look like, for example, then you shall also lose the remembrance of the taste of them. You will also lose knowledge on apple juice, apple trees and granny’s delicious apple pie. It’s quite complicated how all of it works, really, but think of it like a tree, since we’re… talking about… apples.” The Shopkeeper rambled on, looking at the papers on his stand. “We will be able to remove a branch, but if you ask us to remove the trunk, then everything else above it has to go as well.”
“So… so if I just wanted to trade my knowledge on how to make apple pie, then, would I still know how to make apple muffins?”
“Yes.”
“Apple fritters?”
“Yes.”
“How about Apple crumble yogurt delight?”
“Yes. Look, it’s parallel knowledge, right? So it’s–”
“Apple surprise parfait?”
“Stop.”
“App–”
“Please stop. Please. You’re upsetting the paperwork,” The Shopkeeper said, looking up.
Pinkie smiled back.
“Ah, I see.” The Shopkeeper hummed. “That was a joke. I assume you use humour to break tension, don’t you. One of those.”
“Uh huh!” Pinkie nodded.
“Right. You know,” The Shopkeeper adjusted his right monocle, a serious look on his face, “odd senses of humour are in quite high demand here. Perhaps you would be willing to pay with yours.”
“Ah… I don’t think so,” Pinkie said. “But I have loads of other really good things I can offer!”
“Hopefully none that involve the baking of apple-related snack products, I should think. Well.”
“I mean…” Pinkie started, shrugging.
“No. Listen. Look. You see, this is why I dislike making extended metaphors! It’s so very me– Look! Listen.” The Shopkeeper cocked his head to the left and then to the right in quick succession, his lips thinly pursed. “Right. What is it that you are looking for?”
“Alright, if I might get a bit serious, maybe?” Pinkie asked.
“Please.”
“Well… you see. I sorta… kinda… maybe have a thing for this other pony, right?”
“Right.” The Shopkeeper licked his lips. “I get the gist. Who is this pony?”
“Uh… Princess Twilight?” Pinkie scuffed her hooves on the carpet.
“Right. Thank you. Please come again,” The Shopkeeper said, holding up a hoof to wave her away without actually waving.
“No, wait!”
“Now, listen. If you had any idea how many ponies come through these doors with their oh, I’m in love with Celestia and oh, I want to put my things into Luna and all that utter nonsense, you’d– Please!” The Shopkeeper prattled out flabbergastedly as his arm gyrated through the air. “We deal with knowledge, not miracle shortcuts! And we have strict policies!”
“No but, I’m her friend, you see! Close friend!”
“Yes, and I’m Princess Cadance’s left buttock,” The Shopkeeper huffed. “We can’t do anything for–”
“Look, she’s outside, you can ask her yourself,” Pinkie interrupted, chucking her hoof at the wall where the door was supposed to be.
“I– excuse us? I beg your what?”
“She’s… I mean, I brought her with me, just in case. And… I mean, I’d prefer if you didn’t tell her that I’m in love with her, because she doesn’t really…” Pinkie let her words trail off into wisps of air that floated around in her lungs.
“What?”
“Yeah,” she finally said, as the last vestments of her smile left her face. “You can check, though, if you’d like.”
“She’s… out there? Right now?” The Shopkeeper asked again.
“Yes.”
“Right. Uh…”
Walking to the opposite end of the shop, The Shopkeeper threw open a rickety old window that didn’t seem to be there before. It was one of those old paned types, the kind that muddied up something bad and functioned better as shade than anything else. He peered down through it, looking far below, which was strange given how they were already on the ground floor to begin with.
“Um…” Pinkie said.
“Cor, that’s really her, isn’t it,” The Shopkeeper said.
“Yeah!” Pinkie reaffirmed.
“Oi, Princess!” The Shopkeeper yelled down through the window. “Cooee! Oi! Quit runnin’ about, there!”
The Shopkeeper turned back.
“Bit of a panicky one, isn’t she?”
“Ah yeah, she’s… we’re good friends,” Pinkie explained. “She thinks I’m in trouble or something.”
“Ah, right. She’s that kind of person.”
The Shopkeeper stuck his head out of the window once more.
“Right, love! Your friend’s s– yes! Pinkie Pie!”
Muffled sounds came floating through.
“No! She’s fine! Won’t take a bit! Worry not! She asked me to tell you everything’s– No! Only one visitor at a time! … Because regulations! Listen, I’m not the owner of this place, alright? Are you trying to get me fired here, Princess?”
The Shopkeeper turned.
“What were you here for again?” He motioned to the window.
“Oh! Uh… to get a recipe for a cake.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes?”
The Shopkeeper shook his head and returned to Twilight.
“Right, we got tons of cake recipes! … Yes! Tons! Many of them even with apples in! I hope you like apples! Pinkie sure likes apples! … What do you mean she’s not Applejack? Listen! I have to get back to work! She’ll be down soon, okay? Goodbye!”
The Shopkeeper slammed the window shut.
He spun around and tilted his head.
“Right.”
“So do you believe me now?” Pinkie asked.
“Right.”
“But I mean, I’m quite surprised you didn’t believe me. I mean…”
“What, am I supposed to know all of Princess Twilight’s personal friends?”
“But I’m Pinkie. I mean, I don’t mean to be a big old big-head, but… you know. Elements of Harmony?”
“Alright, listen,” The Shopkeeper frowned. “There’s six of you, right? And I can barely remember the one, right? So let’s just move past this and get this sorted, what do you say?”
“I’d love to!”
“Amazing. So. She.” The stallion jerked his hoof toward the window. “You fancy her, eh?”
“Yeah. I guess,” Pinkie sighed.
“Right. Well, you got options, that’s for sure. Lots of things you can do and plenty more that you can’t. But first of all, what are you looking for, really?”
“Well, I mean,” Pinkie said, eyes travelling again to the walls. “It’d be nice if she liked me too, right?”
“And you know that can’t be done.”
“Yeah, of course. So, honestly, I’m kinda stuck. I was hoping maybe... “
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe you could suggest something?”
“I’m not really allowed to, I’m afraid. And I probably wouldn’t be your best bet for that either.” The Shopkeeper shrugged.
The glimmer in Pinkie’s eyes died down.
“Yeah, I figured,” she whispered. “Guess it was a long shot, right?”
“Now, listen. Solving things… there are many ways to solve things, really. I’d remind you that what we deal with here is knowledge. We can let you know things you’ve never known before. Things that can help you on the path. But there’s never really any shortcut to where you’re going. But knowledge,” The Shopkeeper said, “is the most powerful thing on this planet. Perhaps even the slightest help can aid you.”
“Well, but I don’t even really know where to start. I mean, there’s an awful lot to think about.”
“Well, pardon me for asking the obvious here, but have you perhaps attempted to address the situation with her directly?”
“No. She doesn’t know. And she can’t. I mean, I’ve hinted to her, and she’s pretty dumb sometimes, so she never really caught on. But… she doesn’t like me back in that way for sure, and bringing it up would just be bad. The last thing we have left is our friendship. And I can’t… I can’t lose that.”
Pinkie dropped to a low moment of thought, to a place where she let the noises in her head take over for a while. Like a buzz, she moved from shelf to shelf slowly, looking at random items — a crystal snowglobe here, a wind-up toy there, a necklace made of seashells and dusk-rock over in the corner — hoping for a word or two to emerge.
A minute passed.
“Hey,” Pinkie said, as she stared at a little dollhouse. Meek and mum was the sound of her voice, lacking any semblance of a jolly overtone.
“Yes?” The Shopkeeper responded, as was his duty.
“What’s all this stuff for?” Pinkie asked. If you deal with knowledge, why’s this shop full of… stuff?”
“A good question. Rather annoyingly perceptive one, perhaps, but good, for what it is.” The Shopkeeper walked over. “They are candles. Bright flickering lights in the darkness. They are for you to see off in the distance such that they might find you an answer to the questions you aren’t asking. Or perhaps they will lead to those questions from the start. They are Foci.”
“How do I use them?”
“You don’t. They use you. Or at least, one will. Maybe two, maybe three. Depends on the customer, really, doesn’t it? There’s always something for everyone, here. Depends on how much you’re willing to dig in.”
“Huh,” Pinkie muttered, eyes falling on the dollhouse again. “It’s pretty.”
“Yes, rather much.”
“So I have to keep searching to find one that will… work on me?” Pinkie glanced around the shop, which now seemed larger than she gave it credit for.
“Oh, no. No, no. Never. You’ll never find yours just by looking. I’ll have to take your case, won’t I?”
“I don’t get it,” Pinkie said softly.
“Right, time to actually do some work, then.”
“Pardon?”
“Here. Perhaps you could start with this.”
From the corner of her eye, a soft blanket, checkered in white and red, was passed along into her sight. It flew in almost as gracefully as a leaf carried on the winds, and even harder was it to snatch out of the air due to a hoof that was no longer stable nor steady.
The Shopkeeper only let go once he was sure that Pinkie had a tight hold upon it.
Pinkie stared, a laugh of disbelief almost threatening to realise itself in the pit of her throat. But something in there kept it at bay, a lump that swelled up and remained there until she closed her gaping mouth to swallow it away.
She could have asked the questions that any other would ask, but there were no answers she thought she would receive. There was no answering why the blanket was there, nor how it had come into the shop’s possession. It simply was, and that seemed to be the point.
Pinkie wanted to let go, let it fall to the ground, but she found herself unable.
“Talk,” a voice said.
Pinkie blinked, the lines between the red and white blocks of the blanket blurring.
“Talk!”
Pinkie breathed out, her eyes flicking unsteadily to the side. “W-what?”
“Talk,” The Shopkeeper demanded, holding out a hoof to tap the blanket. “Talk about it.”
“T-this?” Pinkie gasped.
“Yes. Tell us about it,” The Shopkeeper asked once more.
Pinkie deflated. There were no words she could muster. She merely looked upon the blanket as her shoulders slumped further and further down.
“How long ago was it? Come on, lass!”
Pinkie opened her mouth, eyes dry from the lack of blinking.
“How long?”
“Two years, okay? Two years!” Pinkie blurted out, her hoof shaking. She squeezed her eyes together, finally moistening them a bit too fervently. “This was the day. The exact day. It was a picnic. This was the blanket. It looks exactly the same!”
“It’s rather similar,” The Shopkeeper said. “What about it, though?”
“What do you mean, what about it?” Pinkie yelled, agitated, as she flung the blanket to the ground, finally allowing it to escape her grasp. “You conjured this up! You already know, don’t you?”
“Mmm,” The Shopkeeper hummed, watching the blanket crumple. “Yes, somewhat. But the question is, do you know what it is?”
Pinkie stared, pure indignation writ upon her face. “Yes. Yes, I do. This was… the most important event in this whole thing!”
“It was the start.”
“It was the start!”
“The clouds were white, that day, weren’t they?”
“No. They were grey.”
“Are you certain?” The Shopkeeper raised an eyebrow.
“Yes! That’s the whole point, wasn’t it? The rain! The barn? Twilight ran out to get it back for me because she didn’t want it to get grass-stains. And this…” Pinkie kicked at the fraudulent blanket, “this… it led to things.”
“And you didn’t like her response,” The Shopkeeper shrugged.
“No. I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s the same response she’s been giving me for the past two years!” Pinkie yelled.
If there was any expression The Shopkeeper could have given as a response, he kept it to himself.
Pinkie seethed, breathing heavily, staring downward at the memory.
Her chest heaved, thumping, heartbeat loud enough to hear.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?” The Shopkeeper asked.
“Sorry. I got angry.”
“Well, it’s fine, isn’t it? To be angry at the things that make us angry.”
“I… I guess so.”
“But I don’t suppose it’s always that bad, is it?” The Shopkeeper asked, turning around to the shelf along the wall behind them. “For example, some things are a bit more pleasant.”
The stallion swept two scraps of paper off a dusty shelf, holding them up.
“Tickets. To a movie.”
“O-oh yeah,” Pinkie stammered, rushing towards them. “These! I… I decided to go join her with her stupid science geek movie instead of the other one.”
“Right. Good memories. The best,” The Shopkeeper muttered, running his hoof along the clutter. “And here, a bunch of owl feathers. And here, a little stuffed jellyfish doll thing, and…”
The Shopkeeper picked up a rather unsightly blob of a thing. “What is this, even? It looks offensive and I don’t even know what it is.”
“Hey,” Pinkie said. “That’s… that’s a vase.”
“This is not a vase.”
“Look, I tried, okay? Turns out clay and frosting aren’t exactly the same.”
“Right.” The Shopkeeper said. “Right.”
He placed the vase back onto the shelf cautiously, slowly.
Pinkie looked back towards the blanket.
“But all these are just things, aren’t they?” The Shopkeeper said, still looking at the vase. “All just things that mean nothing to me. They all mean a lot to you, right? But your feelings are your own, and quite frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to truly grasp that in the odd number of minutes you have left before Twilight out there explodes from anxiety.”
Pinkie looked down, shuffling.
“Dealing with your emotions is your job, really, not mine. All I’m here to do is to perhaps show you what you already know.”
“And what’s that?” Pinkie said weakly.
“Well, it just comes as an observation to me that most of your happy memories have to do with making some sort of sacrifice for your friend Twilight. You gave up some sort of thing, really. Time, maybe. Effort. Objects. Things. Whatever.”
“Well, yeah,” Pinkie cut in. “I want her to be happy, don’t I?”
“Okay, miss obvious! Didn’t have to say it, did you? Really!”
Pinkie clamped her mouth shut.
“Now, what’s more interesting, though, is that your one most angry memory is the one where Twilight made a sacrifice for you, innit?”
There was no reply. Merely thoughts.
“Why do you think that is? Eh?” The Shopkeeper said.
“I don’t know,” Pinkie replied.
“Oh, come on. You said it earlier!” The Shopkeeper rolled his eyes.
“Because…”
“Because it’s not the response you want, is it?”
“No.” Pinkie said. “No, it isn’t.”
“And that’s as far as I go, I’m afraid. You already have everything you need. And I will be back there, with the paperwork because there’s always so bloody much of it.”
“Wait, that’s it?” Pinkie asked.
“Yes, that’s it,” The stallion said as he trotted away.
Pinkie watched as the odd stallion left, leaving her alone with the things on the wall.
There was a numbing emotionlessness that enveloped her mind.
There were the things of her past up for display, as if this shop were a museum of her life. And surely, this was some sort of terribly powerful and invasive magic at work, but it was also the odd sort of clarity she needed.
It was strange, seeing memories as objects. It felt almost as if she could put them all on a scale along with the blanket to see which one weighed more.
“I broke a cake spinner for this,” Pinkie said aloud, as she reached up and nudged the vase slightly. It rocked on its uneven base, just as the real one did. This was a mere facsimile, but what it represented was more than enough.
Pinkie laughed, once.
“Yeah. I figured it’d be the same, right? Turns out pottery wheels are that heavy for a reason. But she really wanted me to try my hoof at it, and I didn’t want to let her down.”
The sound of writing came floating in, as a quill scratched gently against parchment from the pulpit where The Shopkeeper now stood.
“Well, she liked it, though,” Pinkie said. “I guess that’s what matters in the end, right?”
Pinkie laughed again as she spotted something else lying there, and she swept over and grabbed it off, cradling it in her hooves like a baby chick.
“Oh, hey! It’s the speckled egg!” Pinkie said excitedly, looking up toward The Shopkeeper. “I ran this over because Twilight needed it for an experiment, and I tripped when she opened her door and…”
Pinkie’s smile dropped.
The Shopkeeper looked up over the rim of his monocles, staring at Pinkie while he furiously scribbled away on some sheets of paper.
“Yeah,” Pinkie mumbled.
The Shopkeeper looked back down.
“I just don’t… I don’t want to lose all this,” Pinkie said, as she placed the egg gently back upon the shelf. “That’s why I never really… told Twilight or anything, right? Because all this… this is at stake here. This is at risk. No more new things. No more new memories. Just… you know.”
Pinkie turned around, walking to the blanket where she had dropped it on the floor.
“And… I guess I came here hoping I could get something… Maybe learn a way to be able to make her love me back. But that wouldn’t be fair, would it? I couldn’t force her to do anything she doesn’t already want to do herself.”
“The one who visits the shop is the one who changes,” The Shopkeeper said, dryly. “You have to find something to take out with you to effect that change.”
Pinkie sighed.
“You know…” she began.
“Listen, we’re a bit busy here, so…” The Shopkeeper said.
“I guess you’re right. Coming here, I always sorta knew. I always knew what I needed to do.”
“Right, thanks for wasting our time, then,” came the reply.
“It’s not easy, though. Not easy to face it at all.” Pinkie ignored him.
“Never is!”
Bubbles filled the air as the soup in the cauldron simmered away. Papers shuffled as ink marked pages.
Pinkie stared at the wall.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Probably. Yes. If it’s smart enough.”
“What is this place, really?”
The Shopkeeper placed his quill down, reaching up with both front hooves to adjust the monocles on his face. A sudden seriousness crept into his voice as he steadied himself for a moment before he began to speak. “Right. Smart enough, then. Listen, right? There are places and things in this world of magic. Magic of a nature that when you start to question it, it stops making sense. Just think of us merely as the lights in the darkness. And that’s all we’ll ever be.”
“The final choice is mine, then.”
“Always has been.”
“But how do I know it’s the right choice?”
“And we’re back to the stupid questions, I see.”
Pinkie squared her jaw.
“It’s a valid question,” she complained. “One that helps me delay the end.”
“Listen, alright? Door’s right…” The Shopkeeper pointed at the blank wall. “I mean, listen, right? You can walk away. Loads of customers do. But you seem to have already made up your mind.”
“But why does it have to be this way?” Pinkie said, shaking her head slightly, the words barely leaving her throat.
“You already wrote this ending for yourself. We’re just here to help you make it happen.”
“I’m scared! Okay?” Pinkie yelled, the edges of her eyes glistening. “I’m scared and I don’t know if I’m going to lose!”
“But what is she going to gain?” The Shopkeeper asked.
Pinkie shut her mouth, swallowing again to kill the dryness.
“It’s your sacrifice to bear,” The Shopkeeper shrugged. “Now, we can stand around here faffing about for the next few hours, but, and let me be frank, I really don’t want to because, as you said, you’re just scared. But you already know what to do. The choice is in your head. I can’t tell you what it is or what you should do, but I can tell you that you should have the conviction to do what you feel is right.”
Pinkie nodded, rubbing at her eyes.
“It’s not that hard.” The Shopkeeper said. “General rule: preserve the good, discard the bad. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Of course.” Pinkie looked left at the good memories, the ones she wanted to preserve, and then to the bad, the weighted feelings she needed to deal with.
“Then can we get on with it? I got the forms done for you.” The Shopkeeper held up two copies of scrolls 6-b2af and 6-b2af(b).
Pinkie swallowed. “It’s gonna be hard.”
“Yeah, mountains and difficult paths and all that and beautiful peaks. Go on, lass.”
“I have to do this.”
“Right,” The Shopkeeper said, shaking the forms about. “So, what knowledge are you going to take with you?”
“I’m taking nothing,” Pinkie replied.
Twilight launched herself off the wall at the sound of magic happening, as the door twisted and turned and opened with the sickening crunch of wood breaking and repairing itself at the same time.
And suddenly, Pinkie was there.
Standing there.
Bouncing, now.
Smiling and giggling.
“Pinkie!” Twilight yelled out. “That was more than ten minutes! I was about to go get Princess Celestia!”
“Hey!” Pinkie yelled, bubbling over. “Hey, Twi! Hey!”
“Uh… hey? Pinkie, did everything go okay in there?”
Pinkie stopped when she looked straight on at Twilight’s face. And suddenly, the edges of her mouth turned up into a wide, open smile, one that Twilight hadn’t seen for a long time. It was a smile free from agenda. It was a smile that existed just because Pinkie was happy to see her, and nothing more.
“Yeah! Everything went peachy-fantastic, Twiglet!” Pinkie laughed. “It went super super good!”
“Yeah,” Twilight raised her eyebrow. “You… got what you wanted?”
“I got exactly what I wanted, Twilight! A beautiful new recipe for your super-secret birthday! It’s your favouritest cake ever! And I’m gonna bake it so good you won’t even know!”
“Hope it wasn’t too expensive,” Twilight commented.
“It cost me nothing at all,” Pinkie giggled.
“Er… alright.” Twilight shook her head. “I was… well. Glad things got sorted out. And you sure sound a lot more chipper! You wanna get out of here already? That dead rat I saw earlier has friends.”
“Absolutely-loo, Twilight! Let’s go! And thanks super much for waiting for me. I know it was kinda mean of me, but you’re the best, Twi!”
“Yeah, no problem,” Twilight scratched her horn. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”
“That’s right! We’re super best buds! Always and forever, Twilight!” Pinkie laughed, as he bounded down the street with all that renewed energy.
Twilight blinked.
She looked back, glancing at the entryway, for a moment, staring at the door that bore no sign nor knob.
She frowned.
But with a shake of her head, she turned away, and like a little rowboat caught up in Pinkie’s wake, was carried out of the alleys and back into the sun.
Twilight was pulled along like a little rowboat caught up in her wake, victim to each twist and turn down secretive alleys, scraping the edges of dark waves that were never found in the proper parts of Canterlot.
“Hey, do you know where we’re going?” Twilight called out, panting as she rushed forward to keep pace, pushing past a plume of smoke being coughed out from a metal pipe that had sprung a leak.
“Twilight?” Pinkie called back.
“Yeah!” Twilight confirmed her existence.
“We’re friends, right?” Pinkie trotted along.
Twilight slowed.
She sighed.
Pinkie, too, came to a halt, swivelling around to face her friend.
She tilted her head.
“Yes, Pinkie,” Twilight said with a note of exasperation. “Yes. Yes. Yes again.”
“Then trust me.” Pinkie smiled, in a specific sort of manner. It was a smile neither too eager nor too subtle – it was controlled grin whose gist Twilight took immediate note of.
Twilight grunted, casting her eyes to a dead rat that lay along the wall. Her brow fell weakly.
“Right. Right. Sorry,” Twilight muttered. “Just that, you’ve been asking that a lot recently. And I don’t know why. Have I done something to you or something?”
“No!” Pinkie gasped, her eyes widening. “No. Of course not! I didn’t ask you to come along today because I don’t trust you, did I?”
“Then why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Twilight frowned.
“Because there’s nothing wrong!” Pinkie continued to smile, shifting her weight to another hoof. “Look, you know that planning a surprise party usually takes it out of me! I just want to make sure everything’s just perfect!”
“I said to stop calling it that,” Twilight pursed her lips.
“But it is a surprise!”
“Yeah but it’s my party, isn’t it? And I know about it, don’t I? And I’m the only one you told, aren’t I!”
“Yeah but… it’s a surprise for everyone else.” Pinkie blinked.
Twilight’s sigh was glacial.
“Look,” she said, as soon as her hoof left her face, “can we just get this over with? This place seems really shady. I don’t know where you heard of this so-called ‘bakery’ from, but Princess Celestia warned me about this part of Canterlot, and I think that dead rat just moved.”
“I read about it in a book!” Pinkie nodded.
“A book.”
“Yep! Reeeeemember when I borrowed your library last week?” Pinkie grinned.
“Ah. Well. I guess if you found it in a book, it’s probably legitimate… right?” Twilight rubbed the back of her head.
“Yep! So don’t you worry about it! Besides, I can count on the big bad princess to save me if anything happens, right?”
Pinkie’s eyes shut in honest joviality. She let out a slight chuckle — a tinkling of bells that coursed through the narrow, lonely alleyway. She was always good with her expressions. She always had the perfect one for every situation.
Twilight couldn’t help but smile in return, if only just a little.
“Sure, Pinkie. Alright. I’m here for you. Because we’re friends.”
“That’s right. We are…” Pinkie nodded, turning back to face the path. “Right! It should be around the corner just here, and–”
The corner was rounded, and the two came across more of the same winding courseways they had just traversed over the past ten minutes. They were valleys that were watched over by the backs of establishments and homes whose windows never opened, whose faces were marred by twisting cracks and burning pipelines.
The area was in the less-frequented industrial sector of Canterlot, the place that the well-to-dos kept away from because no one needed to know how things worked, really, as long as the fancy food kept appearing on glistening plates and the latest fashions always appeared in the shops with the big golden doors.
Twilight herself peered up and down the blackened, soot-covered cobblestones, almost as if gauging them for what they truly were, almost as if this were one of her adventures from her youth where she travelled to caves and swamps and far-off places.
This was foreign.
Pinkie bounced along, unaffected by all of it, her cheerfulness always masking furtive thoughts.
And there it was:
A mere doorway, that sunk itself into the wall slipshod and rough-had, tilted at an angle that wasn’t entirely crooked but not exactly straight. It felt as if the door was built only after the wall had already gone up — bricks were coarsely broken around the edges where the wooden frame was hammered in, and the planked door itself seemed to bulge and warp in its rectangular cage.
There was no sign. There were no numbers indicating address. There was merely a door.
“This is it!” Pinkie yelped. “It’s gotta be!”
“Uh…” Twilight murmured.
“Look,” Pinkie ran her hoof across the frame, cooing her impression. “No knob. No sign. The only indication of travel being the scratches along the sides, just as the book said!”
“What… what book was this, again?”
“Legerdemain’s Prestidigitation.” The bubbly pink pony gave her reply, staring with an odd focus at the cracks in the wood, peering at the grain.
“Legerde– wait. That’s… that’s a… I’m sure I’ve heard that name before,” Twilight mumbled.
“Yeah, it’s not really a bakery,” Pinkie said, knocking on one of the planks.
“Wait, what?”
“Yes, but they have what I need and what I want, so don’t worry about it!” Two more knocks, a different plank this time.
“Pinkie, this might be dangerous,” Twilight stated, as she looked cautiously up and down the alleyway. “Listen, I think it might be best if we–”
“Nah, it’s safe! I’m sure of it! Don’t worry!” Pinkie knocked once, again, upon the wood. “But I really needed you here to wait for me, because only one may enter at any one time, okay?”
“W-what?” Twilight stuttered.
“See you in ten minutes, okie?” Pinkie giggled. “Really, I’m sure it’s safe. Just promise to wait for me before you tear the city apart looking for me, alright?”
“Pinkie!”
“Look, I really need to do this, alright?” Pinkie told Twilight.
With one final tap on the door, everything went away.
The alley melted into a sludge of damp and turgid colours, and the frantic, shocked yell of Twilight Sparkle, who just had to make such a fuss about it, garbled into a muffled hum that mixed in with the roar of nothingness until only a void remained.
And then there was a pop.
A bubble burst, far in the gloom.
Pinkie opened her eyes.
And the darkness disappeared.
Pinkie peered over her shoulder, mouth and eyes as round as round could be, noting the lack of a way out of the shop that she now stood in. By all appearances, she might have accidentally stumbled into this place on a dreary Sunday afternoon. It gave off the air of a shop of curious antiquities, with brass baubles lining the rickety shelves that went from floor to ceiling, and the random bits of cloth that blocked the few lamps that bothered to try giving the place a bit of class.
The floor was nicely carpeted in red, and there were a few glass display cases as well, showing odd knick knacks and bric-a-brac from countries far and timelines wide.
Pinkie couldn’t help but break out into one of her patented smiles, the one that showed absolute wonder and a child-like fascination at the world, which never ceased to amuse her.
The bubbling came from an untended cauldron that spat out a green aura and a furious, yet odorless, smoke.
The pony gaited up to it, peering down within, whereupon a hot steam rose up and hit her in the face, through which she saw a thick, emerald brew, black chunks caught up in its clotted bog.
“Cream of mushroom,” came a voice from behind.
“Oh!” Pinkie twirled around. “Oh, but why’s it all green then?”
Standing in front of her was a gentleman, a scholar, a finely-topped stallion in finery galore, from his purple felt suit to his under-sized bowler hat that sat upon his head like a black egg. He wore not one but two monocles, one for each eye, and didn’t seem to give the impression that he quite understood what the point of fashion was, but at least he was trying his best.
The stallion sniffed at Pinkie’s inquisition, wrinkling his nose. His brow scrunched up slightly, and he looked slightly perturbed to be asked such a question.
“Hi!” Pinkie waved.
“Oh, yes, hello,” replied the stallion, shaking his head out of his confusion. “Are you a customer?”
“Is this Trade?” Pinkie asked, stepping forward with eager earnestness.
“Ah, yes. Indeed, Indeed. Hello. This is the shop, and I am the… shopkeeper.” The Shopkeeper nodded.
“Hi! I’m Pinkie!” Pinkie held out a hoof.
“And… I’m the shopkeeper,” The Shopkeeper replied, unmoving.
“Oh! Hello!” Pinkie rescinded her gesture.
“Yes, you’ve… said that. Three times.” The Shopkeeper said tapping the side of his head. “Quite… quite unusual.”
“Well, ah… I mean…” Pinkie muttered.
“Ah, well. No worries,” The Shopkeeper stammered. “Is… that right? Yes. Yes. Now, you’re here, I assume, because you wish to make a trade, yes?”
“Yeppers!” Pinkie said. “And I think, I think… this might be the only place that can help me!”
“Yes, most of our customers do… somewhat think along those lines, of course, as it were,” The Shopkeeper said again, moving to his soup to peer in.
Pinkie watched him as he moved, watched each of his perfectly silent, yet uneven, steps. There was something quite unwell about the stallion, like as if this was the first day he had ever been a person, that he was still breaking it in.
She remained mute. It was the only response she had in the face of someone that not even she could quite puzzle out.
“Um… yes. Quite.” The Shopkeeper continued, replying to nothing. “Alright. I’ll have to go through the rules, then. As a matter of discourse. Somewhat part of the regulations, yes? But we can’t… we can’t have people just come up here and not really know what the deal is. In that way lies danger. Mmmph. Yes.”
The Shopkeeper pulled back from his brew, and swept to his little pulpit, a little wooden stand-y thing from which he retrieved some papers. “Right, right then. Indeed. You are aware of the manner of trade we conduct here?”
“Yeah!” Pinkie said, as her eyes wandered to a jar in the corner. There was something vaguely animal-shaped inside. It wasn’t wriggling, and it wasn’t clear if that was good or bad at this point. “Knowledge for knowledge. I’ll be able to get what I want here, or so the story goes.”
“Yes,” The Shopkeeper said swiftly. “You will, of course, state your request in the official forms, and one piece of knowledge will be traded for another. This includes all auxillary knowledges and sub-knowledges accordingly. The knowledge will be given freely of your own volition, and there are no refunds.”
“What’s that mean?” Pinkie asked, hoof to bottom lip. “All that… auxwilliardy stuff.”
“Ah, yes. Simply put, if you trade your knowledge of what apples look like, for example, then you shall also lose the remembrance of the taste of them. You will also lose knowledge on apple juice, apple trees and granny’s delicious apple pie. It’s quite complicated how all of it works, really, but think of it like a tree, since we’re… talking about… apples.” The Shopkeeper rambled on, looking at the papers on his stand. “We will be able to remove a branch, but if you ask us to remove the trunk, then everything else above it has to go as well.”
“So… so if I just wanted to trade my knowledge on how to make apple pie, then, would I still know how to make apple muffins?”
“Yes.”
“Apple fritters?”
“Yes.”
“How about Apple crumble yogurt delight?”
“Yes. Look, it’s parallel knowledge, right? So it’s–”
“Apple surprise parfait?”
“Stop.”
“App–”
“Please stop. Please. You’re upsetting the paperwork,” The Shopkeeper said, looking up.
Pinkie smiled back.
“Ah, I see.” The Shopkeeper hummed. “That was a joke. I assume you use humour to break tension, don’t you. One of those.”
“Uh huh!” Pinkie nodded.
“Right. You know,” The Shopkeeper adjusted his right monocle, a serious look on his face, “odd senses of humour are in quite high demand here. Perhaps you would be willing to pay with yours.”
“Ah… I don’t think so,” Pinkie said. “But I have loads of other really good things I can offer!”
“Hopefully none that involve the baking of apple-related snack products, I should think. Well.”
“I mean…” Pinkie started, shrugging.
“No. Listen. Look. You see, this is why I dislike making extended metaphors! It’s so very me– Look! Listen.” The Shopkeeper cocked his head to the left and then to the right in quick succession, his lips thinly pursed. “Right. What is it that you are looking for?”
“Alright, if I might get a bit serious, maybe?” Pinkie asked.
“Please.”
“Well… you see. I sorta… kinda… maybe have a thing for this other pony, right?”
“Right.” The Shopkeeper licked his lips. “I get the gist. Who is this pony?”
“Uh… Princess Twilight?” Pinkie scuffed her hooves on the carpet.
“Right. Thank you. Please come again,” The Shopkeeper said, holding up a hoof to wave her away without actually waving.
“No, wait!”
“Now, listen. If you had any idea how many ponies come through these doors with their oh, I’m in love with Celestia and oh, I want to put my things into Luna and all that utter nonsense, you’d– Please!” The Shopkeeper prattled out flabbergastedly as his arm gyrated through the air. “We deal with knowledge, not miracle shortcuts! And we have strict policies!”
“No but, I’m her friend, you see! Close friend!”
“Yes, and I’m Princess Cadance’s left buttock,” The Shopkeeper huffed. “We can’t do anything for–”
“Look, she’s outside, you can ask her yourself,” Pinkie interrupted, chucking her hoof at the wall where the door was supposed to be.
“I– excuse us? I beg your what?”
“She’s… I mean, I brought her with me, just in case. And… I mean, I’d prefer if you didn’t tell her that I’m in love with her, because she doesn’t really…” Pinkie let her words trail off into wisps of air that floated around in her lungs.
“What?”
“Yeah,” she finally said, as the last vestments of her smile left her face. “You can check, though, if you’d like.”
“She’s… out there? Right now?” The Shopkeeper asked again.
“Yes.”
“Right. Uh…”
Walking to the opposite end of the shop, The Shopkeeper threw open a rickety old window that didn’t seem to be there before. It was one of those old paned types, the kind that muddied up something bad and functioned better as shade than anything else. He peered down through it, looking far below, which was strange given how they were already on the ground floor to begin with.
“Um…” Pinkie said.
“Cor, that’s really her, isn’t it,” The Shopkeeper said.
“Yeah!” Pinkie reaffirmed.
“Oi, Princess!” The Shopkeeper yelled down through the window. “Cooee! Oi! Quit runnin’ about, there!”
The Shopkeeper turned back.
“Bit of a panicky one, isn’t she?”
“Ah yeah, she’s… we’re good friends,” Pinkie explained. “She thinks I’m in trouble or something.”
“Ah, right. She’s that kind of person.”
The Shopkeeper stuck his head out of the window once more.
“Right, love! Your friend’s s– yes! Pinkie Pie!”
Muffled sounds came floating through.
“No! She’s fine! Won’t take a bit! Worry not! She asked me to tell you everything’s– No! Only one visitor at a time! … Because regulations! Listen, I’m not the owner of this place, alright? Are you trying to get me fired here, Princess?”
The Shopkeeper turned.
“What were you here for again?” He motioned to the window.
“Oh! Uh… to get a recipe for a cake.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes?”
The Shopkeeper shook his head and returned to Twilight.
“Right, we got tons of cake recipes! … Yes! Tons! Many of them even with apples in! I hope you like apples! Pinkie sure likes apples! … What do you mean she’s not Applejack? Listen! I have to get back to work! She’ll be down soon, okay? Goodbye!”
The Shopkeeper slammed the window shut.
He spun around and tilted his head.
“Right.”
“So do you believe me now?” Pinkie asked.
“Right.”
“But I mean, I’m quite surprised you didn’t believe me. I mean…”
“What, am I supposed to know all of Princess Twilight’s personal friends?”
“But I’m Pinkie. I mean, I don’t mean to be a big old big-head, but… you know. Elements of Harmony?”
“Alright, listen,” The Shopkeeper frowned. “There’s six of you, right? And I can barely remember the one, right? So let’s just move past this and get this sorted, what do you say?”
“I’d love to!”
“Amazing. So. She.” The stallion jerked his hoof toward the window. “You fancy her, eh?”
“Yeah. I guess,” Pinkie sighed.
“Right. Well, you got options, that’s for sure. Lots of things you can do and plenty more that you can’t. But first of all, what are you looking for, really?”
“Well, I mean,” Pinkie said, eyes travelling again to the walls. “It’d be nice if she liked me too, right?”
“And you know that can’t be done.”
“Yeah, of course. So, honestly, I’m kinda stuck. I was hoping maybe... “
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe you could suggest something?”
“I’m not really allowed to, I’m afraid. And I probably wouldn’t be your best bet for that either.” The Shopkeeper shrugged.
The glimmer in Pinkie’s eyes died down.
“Yeah, I figured,” she whispered. “Guess it was a long shot, right?”
“Now, listen. Solving things… there are many ways to solve things, really. I’d remind you that what we deal with here is knowledge. We can let you know things you’ve never known before. Things that can help you on the path. But there’s never really any shortcut to where you’re going. But knowledge,” The Shopkeeper said, “is the most powerful thing on this planet. Perhaps even the slightest help can aid you.”
“Well, but I don’t even really know where to start. I mean, there’s an awful lot to think about.”
“Well, pardon me for asking the obvious here, but have you perhaps attempted to address the situation with her directly?”
“No. She doesn’t know. And she can’t. I mean, I’ve hinted to her, and she’s pretty dumb sometimes, so she never really caught on. But… she doesn’t like me back in that way for sure, and bringing it up would just be bad. The last thing we have left is our friendship. And I can’t… I can’t lose that.”
Pinkie dropped to a low moment of thought, to a place where she let the noises in her head take over for a while. Like a buzz, she moved from shelf to shelf slowly, looking at random items — a crystal snowglobe here, a wind-up toy there, a necklace made of seashells and dusk-rock over in the corner — hoping for a word or two to emerge.
A minute passed.
“Hey,” Pinkie said, as she stared at a little dollhouse. Meek and mum was the sound of her voice, lacking any semblance of a jolly overtone.
“Yes?” The Shopkeeper responded, as was his duty.
“What’s all this stuff for?” Pinkie asked. If you deal with knowledge, why’s this shop full of… stuff?”
“A good question. Rather annoyingly perceptive one, perhaps, but good, for what it is.” The Shopkeeper walked over. “They are candles. Bright flickering lights in the darkness. They are for you to see off in the distance such that they might find you an answer to the questions you aren’t asking. Or perhaps they will lead to those questions from the start. They are Foci.”
“How do I use them?”
“You don’t. They use you. Or at least, one will. Maybe two, maybe three. Depends on the customer, really, doesn’t it? There’s always something for everyone, here. Depends on how much you’re willing to dig in.”
“Huh,” Pinkie muttered, eyes falling on the dollhouse again. “It’s pretty.”
“Yes, rather much.”
“So I have to keep searching to find one that will… work on me?” Pinkie glanced around the shop, which now seemed larger than she gave it credit for.
“Oh, no. No, no. Never. You’ll never find yours just by looking. I’ll have to take your case, won’t I?”
“I don’t get it,” Pinkie said softly.
“Right, time to actually do some work, then.”
“Pardon?”
“Here. Perhaps you could start with this.”
From the corner of her eye, a soft blanket, checkered in white and red, was passed along into her sight. It flew in almost as gracefully as a leaf carried on the winds, and even harder was it to snatch out of the air due to a hoof that was no longer stable nor steady.
The Shopkeeper only let go once he was sure that Pinkie had a tight hold upon it.
Pinkie stared, a laugh of disbelief almost threatening to realise itself in the pit of her throat. But something in there kept it at bay, a lump that swelled up and remained there until she closed her gaping mouth to swallow it away.
She could have asked the questions that any other would ask, but there were no answers she thought she would receive. There was no answering why the blanket was there, nor how it had come into the shop’s possession. It simply was, and that seemed to be the point.
Pinkie wanted to let go, let it fall to the ground, but she found herself unable.
“Talk,” a voice said.
Pinkie blinked, the lines between the red and white blocks of the blanket blurring.
“Talk!”
Pinkie breathed out, her eyes flicking unsteadily to the side. “W-what?”
“Talk,” The Shopkeeper demanded, holding out a hoof to tap the blanket. “Talk about it.”
“T-this?” Pinkie gasped.
“Yes. Tell us about it,” The Shopkeeper asked once more.
Pinkie deflated. There were no words she could muster. She merely looked upon the blanket as her shoulders slumped further and further down.
“How long ago was it? Come on, lass!”
Pinkie opened her mouth, eyes dry from the lack of blinking.
“How long?”
“Two years, okay? Two years!” Pinkie blurted out, her hoof shaking. She squeezed her eyes together, finally moistening them a bit too fervently. “This was the day. The exact day. It was a picnic. This was the blanket. It looks exactly the same!”
“It’s rather similar,” The Shopkeeper said. “What about it, though?”
“What do you mean, what about it?” Pinkie yelled, agitated, as she flung the blanket to the ground, finally allowing it to escape her grasp. “You conjured this up! You already know, don’t you?”
“Mmm,” The Shopkeeper hummed, watching the blanket crumple. “Yes, somewhat. But the question is, do you know what it is?”
Pinkie stared, pure indignation writ upon her face. “Yes. Yes, I do. This was… the most important event in this whole thing!”
“It was the start.”
“It was the start!”
“The clouds were white, that day, weren’t they?”
“No. They were grey.”
“Are you certain?” The Shopkeeper raised an eyebrow.
“Yes! That’s the whole point, wasn’t it? The rain! The barn? Twilight ran out to get it back for me because she didn’t want it to get grass-stains. And this…” Pinkie kicked at the fraudulent blanket, “this… it led to things.”
“And you didn’t like her response,” The Shopkeeper shrugged.
“No. I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s the same response she’s been giving me for the past two years!” Pinkie yelled.
If there was any expression The Shopkeeper could have given as a response, he kept it to himself.
Pinkie seethed, breathing heavily, staring downward at the memory.
Her chest heaved, thumping, heartbeat loud enough to hear.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?” The Shopkeeper asked.
“Sorry. I got angry.”
“Well, it’s fine, isn’t it? To be angry at the things that make us angry.”
“I… I guess so.”
“But I don’t suppose it’s always that bad, is it?” The Shopkeeper asked, turning around to the shelf along the wall behind them. “For example, some things are a bit more pleasant.”
The stallion swept two scraps of paper off a dusty shelf, holding them up.
“Tickets. To a movie.”
“O-oh yeah,” Pinkie stammered, rushing towards them. “These! I… I decided to go join her with her stupid science geek movie instead of the other one.”
“Right. Good memories. The best,” The Shopkeeper muttered, running his hoof along the clutter. “And here, a bunch of owl feathers. And here, a little stuffed jellyfish doll thing, and…”
The Shopkeeper picked up a rather unsightly blob of a thing. “What is this, even? It looks offensive and I don’t even know what it is.”
“Hey,” Pinkie said. “That’s… that’s a vase.”
“This is not a vase.”
“Look, I tried, okay? Turns out clay and frosting aren’t exactly the same.”
“Right.” The Shopkeeper said. “Right.”
He placed the vase back onto the shelf cautiously, slowly.
Pinkie looked back towards the blanket.
“But all these are just things, aren’t they?” The Shopkeeper said, still looking at the vase. “All just things that mean nothing to me. They all mean a lot to you, right? But your feelings are your own, and quite frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to truly grasp that in the odd number of minutes you have left before Twilight out there explodes from anxiety.”
Pinkie looked down, shuffling.
“Dealing with your emotions is your job, really, not mine. All I’m here to do is to perhaps show you what you already know.”
“And what’s that?” Pinkie said weakly.
“Well, it just comes as an observation to me that most of your happy memories have to do with making some sort of sacrifice for your friend Twilight. You gave up some sort of thing, really. Time, maybe. Effort. Objects. Things. Whatever.”
“Well, yeah,” Pinkie cut in. “I want her to be happy, don’t I?”
“Okay, miss obvious! Didn’t have to say it, did you? Really!”
Pinkie clamped her mouth shut.
“Now, what’s more interesting, though, is that your one most angry memory is the one where Twilight made a sacrifice for you, innit?”
There was no reply. Merely thoughts.
“Why do you think that is? Eh?” The Shopkeeper said.
“I don’t know,” Pinkie replied.
“Oh, come on. You said it earlier!” The Shopkeeper rolled his eyes.
“Because…”
“Because it’s not the response you want, is it?”
“No.” Pinkie said. “No, it isn’t.”
“And that’s as far as I go, I’m afraid. You already have everything you need. And I will be back there, with the paperwork because there’s always so bloody much of it.”
“Wait, that’s it?” Pinkie asked.
“Yes, that’s it,” The stallion said as he trotted away.
Pinkie watched as the odd stallion left, leaving her alone with the things on the wall.
There was a numbing emotionlessness that enveloped her mind.
There were the things of her past up for display, as if this shop were a museum of her life. And surely, this was some sort of terribly powerful and invasive magic at work, but it was also the odd sort of clarity she needed.
It was strange, seeing memories as objects. It felt almost as if she could put them all on a scale along with the blanket to see which one weighed more.
“I broke a cake spinner for this,” Pinkie said aloud, as she reached up and nudged the vase slightly. It rocked on its uneven base, just as the real one did. This was a mere facsimile, but what it represented was more than enough.
Pinkie laughed, once.
“Yeah. I figured it’d be the same, right? Turns out pottery wheels are that heavy for a reason. But she really wanted me to try my hoof at it, and I didn’t want to let her down.”
The sound of writing came floating in, as a quill scratched gently against parchment from the pulpit where The Shopkeeper now stood.
“Well, she liked it, though,” Pinkie said. “I guess that’s what matters in the end, right?”
Pinkie laughed again as she spotted something else lying there, and she swept over and grabbed it off, cradling it in her hooves like a baby chick.
“Oh, hey! It’s the speckled egg!” Pinkie said excitedly, looking up toward The Shopkeeper. “I ran this over because Twilight needed it for an experiment, and I tripped when she opened her door and…”
Pinkie’s smile dropped.
The Shopkeeper looked up over the rim of his monocles, staring at Pinkie while he furiously scribbled away on some sheets of paper.
“Yeah,” Pinkie mumbled.
The Shopkeeper looked back down.
“I just don’t… I don’t want to lose all this,” Pinkie said, as she placed the egg gently back upon the shelf. “That’s why I never really… told Twilight or anything, right? Because all this… this is at stake here. This is at risk. No more new things. No more new memories. Just… you know.”
Pinkie turned around, walking to the blanket where she had dropped it on the floor.
“And… I guess I came here hoping I could get something… Maybe learn a way to be able to make her love me back. But that wouldn’t be fair, would it? I couldn’t force her to do anything she doesn’t already want to do herself.”
“The one who visits the shop is the one who changes,” The Shopkeeper said, dryly. “You have to find something to take out with you to effect that change.”
Pinkie sighed.
“You know…” she began.
“Listen, we’re a bit busy here, so…” The Shopkeeper said.
“I guess you’re right. Coming here, I always sorta knew. I always knew what I needed to do.”
“Right, thanks for wasting our time, then,” came the reply.
“It’s not easy, though. Not easy to face it at all.” Pinkie ignored him.
“Never is!”
Bubbles filled the air as the soup in the cauldron simmered away. Papers shuffled as ink marked pages.
Pinkie stared at the wall.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Probably. Yes. If it’s smart enough.”
“What is this place, really?”
The Shopkeeper placed his quill down, reaching up with both front hooves to adjust the monocles on his face. A sudden seriousness crept into his voice as he steadied himself for a moment before he began to speak. “Right. Smart enough, then. Listen, right? There are places and things in this world of magic. Magic of a nature that when you start to question it, it stops making sense. Just think of us merely as the lights in the darkness. And that’s all we’ll ever be.”
“The final choice is mine, then.”
“Always has been.”
“But how do I know it’s the right choice?”
“And we’re back to the stupid questions, I see.”
Pinkie squared her jaw.
“It’s a valid question,” she complained. “One that helps me delay the end.”
“Listen, alright? Door’s right…” The Shopkeeper pointed at the blank wall. “I mean, listen, right? You can walk away. Loads of customers do. But you seem to have already made up your mind.”
“But why does it have to be this way?” Pinkie said, shaking her head slightly, the words barely leaving her throat.
“You already wrote this ending for yourself. We’re just here to help you make it happen.”
“I’m scared! Okay?” Pinkie yelled, the edges of her eyes glistening. “I’m scared and I don’t know if I’m going to lose!”
“But what is she going to gain?” The Shopkeeper asked.
Pinkie shut her mouth, swallowing again to kill the dryness.
“It’s your sacrifice to bear,” The Shopkeeper shrugged. “Now, we can stand around here faffing about for the next few hours, but, and let me be frank, I really don’t want to because, as you said, you’re just scared. But you already know what to do. The choice is in your head. I can’t tell you what it is or what you should do, but I can tell you that you should have the conviction to do what you feel is right.”
Pinkie nodded, rubbing at her eyes.
“It’s not that hard.” The Shopkeeper said. “General rule: preserve the good, discard the bad. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Of course.” Pinkie looked left at the good memories, the ones she wanted to preserve, and then to the bad, the weighted feelings she needed to deal with.
“Then can we get on with it? I got the forms done for you.” The Shopkeeper held up two copies of scrolls 6-b2af and 6-b2af(b).
Pinkie swallowed. “It’s gonna be hard.”
“Yeah, mountains and difficult paths and all that and beautiful peaks. Go on, lass.”
“I have to do this.”
“Right,” The Shopkeeper said, shaking the forms about. “So, what knowledge are you going to take with you?”
“I’m taking nothing,” Pinkie replied.
Twilight launched herself off the wall at the sound of magic happening, as the door twisted and turned and opened with the sickening crunch of wood breaking and repairing itself at the same time.
And suddenly, Pinkie was there.
Standing there.
Bouncing, now.
Smiling and giggling.
“Pinkie!” Twilight yelled out. “That was more than ten minutes! I was about to go get Princess Celestia!”
“Hey!” Pinkie yelled, bubbling over. “Hey, Twi! Hey!”
“Uh… hey? Pinkie, did everything go okay in there?”
Pinkie stopped when she looked straight on at Twilight’s face. And suddenly, the edges of her mouth turned up into a wide, open smile, one that Twilight hadn’t seen for a long time. It was a smile free from agenda. It was a smile that existed just because Pinkie was happy to see her, and nothing more.
“Yeah! Everything went peachy-fantastic, Twiglet!” Pinkie laughed. “It went super super good!”
“Yeah,” Twilight raised her eyebrow. “You… got what you wanted?”
“I got exactly what I wanted, Twilight! A beautiful new recipe for your super-secret birthday! It’s your favouritest cake ever! And I’m gonna bake it so good you won’t even know!”
“Hope it wasn’t too expensive,” Twilight commented.
“It cost me nothing at all,” Pinkie giggled.
“Er… alright.” Twilight shook her head. “I was… well. Glad things got sorted out. And you sure sound a lot more chipper! You wanna get out of here already? That dead rat I saw earlier has friends.”
“Absolutely-loo, Twilight! Let’s go! And thanks super much for waiting for me. I know it was kinda mean of me, but you’re the best, Twi!”
“Yeah, no problem,” Twilight scratched her horn. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”
“That’s right! We’re super best buds! Always and forever, Twilight!” Pinkie laughed, as he bounded down the street with all that renewed energy.
Twilight blinked.
She looked back, glancing at the entryway, for a moment, staring at the door that bore no sign nor knob.
She frowned.
But with a shake of her head, she turned away, and like a little rowboat caught up in Pinkie’s wake, was carried out of the alleys and back into the sun.
Anyone else getting a Warehouse 13 feel on this? Maybe even a little of the Librarians in this little tale? Only me? Oh well. I love the take on this. Though it does seem to have it's own problems. Overall it was a good read. There was a lack of focus on certain aspects, but of course that would just need some tender care and fine tuning. So we'll ignore those bits for now. Let's move on to what makes this story unique!
POSITIVES
-OC
Shopkeeper was just a grand thing to read about. Just how perplexing he was while giving advise and words of wisdom to Pinkie Pie really tied this story together well. You even added details that made this character come to life. And I want to say one more thing about having the twist of adding an OC character that came to have such an effect on me. It was a well done move and really shows off your own creativity and flair for keeping me entertained. I appreciate your hard work on this fine fine character. Though he did seem to break away from his own characteristics a bit, he did his role in being the mysterious mystical character who pretty much only has one place in the story. To get the reader to think. This works well in many cases where your audience would never come to expect certain things. Slowly he unveiled the curtain for the true reason behind his store and he put on quite a show. Like I said though he tended to break out of his own shell. Maybe you were rushing pass that bit? Or you had no ideas on how he may react or act in such a situation? Also was he a unicorn or a normal earth pony? clues point to the magical type. Either way I think you need to sit down and reflect on who this character is. Why? Because I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who wants to see more of Shopkeeper. Enough about Shopkeeper, let's move on to Pinkie and Twilight. My problem with them both is they seem very different from their canon counterparts. Heavily different. Which is justified with the angle that you're going into. Twilight is concerned and worried the whole time, which we've all seen how wacky she gets when she feels that way. And Pinkie is troubled. Though you've portrayed her pretty much spot on. A little research on both of these characters and they will pop right out of your story as if the reader could touch them. For now, I just look forward to seeing a cast of your own in a whole different story.
-Setting
Alright! I for one didn't expect that much magic to be in this one story. In fact I'm sure it'll be the most creative setting in this entire line-up. The shop itself was like a carnival of whimsy. Oh! How I would have loved to explore it with my own eyes and see what it holds. The author hints at bits and pieces of how this complicated store works too. Being filled with trinkets that belonged to the single customer that entered the store. The vertical dimensional window and the cauldron of Cream of Mushroom which I'm sure is some type of catalyst to stop negative memories from flooding the place. Think about it. Who hates Cream of mushroom? Or the smell for that matter. Mushroom haters that's who, which are few and far between. The smaller details in Pinkie's interrogation of the place only seem to liven everything up. Painting a picture in my head about how the shop ran and worked with just one pony to tend to it. It was a playground and I wanted to try everything out for myself. The only thing about this is that it took away from the story. Halfway in the shop's tale we find Pinkie asking more questions about the store rather than trying to get the information she desperately needed. Which is to successfully court an alicorn princess. The memory trinkets did the job quite well on emphasizing this,but other than that it took quite a lot to get back to the main picture. We also never get to see the results. When you create something thing about one simple thing. "Why is this happening?" Think of the reason behind it all. If the reason is strong enough for said character or the reader than you need to focus on that more so than the interior of a store. I did think Pinkie had no reason for becoming so attached to this place to even forget that her beloved Twilight was scared to death out in an alleyway where she might get hurt or worse.
NEGATIVES
-Plot
I had trouble following this one. The story made sense, but also made way to a whole bunch of questions. Overall I thought this was the weak point of the story. Canterlot has been known to be a shining beacon. The city having a slum like area just doesn't seem to fit, not while the two Goddesses of the land watch over it with their very own eyes, literally. Maybe some place like Griffonstone or the city of Manhattan would fit the bill just right to make way for the nitty gritty alleyway Pinkie and Twilight roamed around in. The magical shop also held a lot of possibilities that could have been explored more. Which would have made the read even more delightful to experience. The story would have worked even if you just took the intro out and took the perspective of Shopkeeper in his workplace. It was a good interesting story that could have hit on a lot more things to make it even more. I'm not saying it's weak but at times it did make me question what was I reading. There were even a couple of statements that seem to hint at something going to happen that we never get to see. Such example being Twilight getting a turn to see the shop. Twilight's party, etc. These kinds of points could be played with to really make something come out more rather than having it said and never acting it out.
-Word Usage
The character you've created in this story was brilliant. Just simply enjoyable in every trait he displayed in the story. his language was a bit off but that's admirable since character such as him do have a rather twisted type of speaking. Hell I know I have quite a way with words. Though the wordings for your descriptions didn't seem to hit on point a lot. All in all this wasn't a bit deal because I know it's just editing time that's needed for this story. It did however take me away from the story. My only advice for this is, to take it slow when you do write it raw. Maybe read a couple of paragraphs in the middle of your writing. Take a break from the constant tapping of your keyboard and just look it over real quickly. It's what I do when I want a story to be perfect and when I know it'll take a ton of time to reread everything just to find the smallest of errors. This method will help eliminate the small stuff from being so scattered within your story and may even give you more time to worry about the main meat of the story.
-Moral
I can't tell where the story was headed. We're given a small scene and that's that. Maybe I'm so hungry for more of this place, that I just want to read more about it. My main concern is that there was no lesson behind it. The prompt for this story even seems to bounce back and forth between how powerful the store felt in terms of its effect on it's audience to the strong feeling Pinkie felt for Twilight. Which wasn't really explored too much and just felt hinted. Even thought it was the main reason for our main character to be there in the first place. I cannot say much about this part except for the fact that it felt like a really strong scene cut for an even greater story. I just can't seem to put my finger on where it was headed though. It wasn't confusing it just seems like it wasn't fully decided on where the direction of this story will actually finish for that matter. Could have been better if we saw Pinkie decide to stay friends with Twilight at the end of her party or maybe a confession with how much the pink party pony loves Twilight, but understands that she needs to respect Twilight's decision and personal space. Give me a moral to follow through. The main part of this story was the store. Which really had no place for the main character's side. Other than to give her information. Done deal. Now what? That is what this story seems to give it's readers. It's title is "Trade" yet nothing was exchanged here and Shopkeeper gains nothing.
This story was fantastic. Two-faced reviewer, I KNOW! My final remark for this story is it's great in it's own way. It made me explore heavily on what was really entertaining to me. The author definitely had it's readers in mind with how tantalizing it's details were. It was hilarious with how Shopkeeper calmed down Twilight in the alleyway. It was genius to take Pinkie's memories and turn it into items that only she knows about. It was confusing that this place still does paperwork! All while still adding a bit of comedy into it. Cream of Mushroom soup, paperwork for one of the most magical places in Equestria, the vertical window leading away from the door. It was a blast to experience. Good job!
POSITIVES
-OC
Shopkeeper was just a grand thing to read about. Just how perplexing he was while giving advise and words of wisdom to Pinkie Pie really tied this story together well. You even added details that made this character come to life. And I want to say one more thing about having the twist of adding an OC character that came to have such an effect on me. It was a well done move and really shows off your own creativity and flair for keeping me entertained. I appreciate your hard work on this fine fine character. Though he did seem to break away from his own characteristics a bit, he did his role in being the mysterious mystical character who pretty much only has one place in the story. To get the reader to think. This works well in many cases where your audience would never come to expect certain things. Slowly he unveiled the curtain for the true reason behind his store and he put on quite a show. Like I said though he tended to break out of his own shell. Maybe you were rushing pass that bit? Or you had no ideas on how he may react or act in such a situation? Also was he a unicorn or a normal earth pony? clues point to the magical type. Either way I think you need to sit down and reflect on who this character is. Why? Because I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who wants to see more of Shopkeeper. Enough about Shopkeeper, let's move on to Pinkie and Twilight. My problem with them both is they seem very different from their canon counterparts. Heavily different. Which is justified with the angle that you're going into. Twilight is concerned and worried the whole time, which we've all seen how wacky she gets when she feels that way. And Pinkie is troubled. Though you've portrayed her pretty much spot on. A little research on both of these characters and they will pop right out of your story as if the reader could touch them. For now, I just look forward to seeing a cast of your own in a whole different story.
-Setting
Alright! I for one didn't expect that much magic to be in this one story. In fact I'm sure it'll be the most creative setting in this entire line-up. The shop itself was like a carnival of whimsy. Oh! How I would have loved to explore it with my own eyes and see what it holds. The author hints at bits and pieces of how this complicated store works too. Being filled with trinkets that belonged to the single customer that entered the store. The vertical dimensional window and the cauldron of Cream of Mushroom which I'm sure is some type of catalyst to stop negative memories from flooding the place. Think about it. Who hates Cream of mushroom? Or the smell for that matter. Mushroom haters that's who, which are few and far between. The smaller details in Pinkie's interrogation of the place only seem to liven everything up. Painting a picture in my head about how the shop ran and worked with just one pony to tend to it. It was a playground and I wanted to try everything out for myself. The only thing about this is that it took away from the story. Halfway in the shop's tale we find Pinkie asking more questions about the store rather than trying to get the information she desperately needed. Which is to successfully court an alicorn princess. The memory trinkets did the job quite well on emphasizing this,but other than that it took quite a lot to get back to the main picture. We also never get to see the results. When you create something thing about one simple thing. "Why is this happening?" Think of the reason behind it all. If the reason is strong enough for said character or the reader than you need to focus on that more so than the interior of a store. I did think Pinkie had no reason for becoming so attached to this place to even forget that her beloved Twilight was scared to death out in an alleyway where she might get hurt or worse.
NEGATIVES
-Plot
I had trouble following this one. The story made sense, but also made way to a whole bunch of questions. Overall I thought this was the weak point of the story. Canterlot has been known to be a shining beacon. The city having a slum like area just doesn't seem to fit, not while the two Goddesses of the land watch over it with their very own eyes, literally. Maybe some place like Griffonstone or the city of Manhattan would fit the bill just right to make way for the nitty gritty alleyway Pinkie and Twilight roamed around in. The magical shop also held a lot of possibilities that could have been explored more. Which would have made the read even more delightful to experience. The story would have worked even if you just took the intro out and took the perspective of Shopkeeper in his workplace. It was a good interesting story that could have hit on a lot more things to make it even more. I'm not saying it's weak but at times it did make me question what was I reading. There were even a couple of statements that seem to hint at something going to happen that we never get to see. Such example being Twilight getting a turn to see the shop. Twilight's party, etc. These kinds of points could be played with to really make something come out more rather than having it said and never acting it out.
-Word Usage
The character you've created in this story was brilliant. Just simply enjoyable in every trait he displayed in the story. his language was a bit off but that's admirable since character such as him do have a rather twisted type of speaking. Hell I know I have quite a way with words. Though the wordings for your descriptions didn't seem to hit on point a lot. All in all this wasn't a bit deal because I know it's just editing time that's needed for this story. It did however take me away from the story. My only advice for this is, to take it slow when you do write it raw. Maybe read a couple of paragraphs in the middle of your writing. Take a break from the constant tapping of your keyboard and just look it over real quickly. It's what I do when I want a story to be perfect and when I know it'll take a ton of time to reread everything just to find the smallest of errors. This method will help eliminate the small stuff from being so scattered within your story and may even give you more time to worry about the main meat of the story.
-Moral
I can't tell where the story was headed. We're given a small scene and that's that. Maybe I'm so hungry for more of this place, that I just want to read more about it. My main concern is that there was no lesson behind it. The prompt for this story even seems to bounce back and forth between how powerful the store felt in terms of its effect on it's audience to the strong feeling Pinkie felt for Twilight. Which wasn't really explored too much and just felt hinted. Even thought it was the main reason for our main character to be there in the first place. I cannot say much about this part except for the fact that it felt like a really strong scene cut for an even greater story. I just can't seem to put my finger on where it was headed though. It wasn't confusing it just seems like it wasn't fully decided on where the direction of this story will actually finish for that matter. Could have been better if we saw Pinkie decide to stay friends with Twilight at the end of her party or maybe a confession with how much the pink party pony loves Twilight, but understands that she needs to respect Twilight's decision and personal space. Give me a moral to follow through. The main part of this story was the store. Which really had no place for the main character's side. Other than to give her information. Done deal. Now what? That is what this story seems to give it's readers. It's title is "Trade" yet nothing was exchanged here and Shopkeeper gains nothing.
This story was fantastic. Two-faced reviewer, I KNOW! My final remark for this story is it's great in it's own way. It made me explore heavily on what was really entertaining to me. The author definitely had it's readers in mind with how tantalizing it's details were. It was hilarious with how Shopkeeper calmed down Twilight in the alleyway. It was genius to take Pinkie's memories and turn it into items that only she knows about. It was confusing that this place still does paperwork! All while still adding a bit of comedy into it. Cream of Mushroom soup, paperwork for one of the most magical places in Equestria, the vertical window leading away from the door. It was a blast to experience. Good job!
Man this story needs more attention.
Okay, so before we begin I have to say that this story hits my absolute worst pet peeve. It doesn't tell us how it ends. I'm going to take a very strong guess that Pinkie removed her knowledge of loving Twilight in order to make them both happier and I think I'm probably right. The problem is that I really don't know. The ending for that is a bittersweet tragedy, but I'm not sure the actual ending manages to convey just what happened. Now, there's definitely room in fiction for ambiguous endings, but in something so character focused not telling us the character's decision is a major black mark.
Other than that small rant I did love this story. Mysterious shops that you can never find again are probably my favorite narrative cliche and the whole story flows wonderfully. Pinkie being portrayed as a deep and complex character is rarer than you'd think and but Trade plays this extremely well. The shopkeeper was also fun, stepping outside of narrative conventions to be genuinely engaging and entertaining.
I think with better signposting at the end this story would be great, but even without that its still very good.
Okay, so before we begin I have to say that this story hits my absolute worst pet peeve. It doesn't tell us how it ends. I'm going to take a very strong guess that Pinkie removed her knowledge of loving Twilight in order to make them both happier and I think I'm probably right. The problem is that I really don't know. The ending for that is a bittersweet tragedy, but I'm not sure the actual ending manages to convey just what happened. Now, there's definitely room in fiction for ambiguous endings, but in something so character focused not telling us the character's decision is a major black mark.
Other than that small rant I did love this story. Mysterious shops that you can never find again are probably my favorite narrative cliche and the whole story flows wonderfully. Pinkie being portrayed as a deep and complex character is rarer than you'd think and but Trade plays this extremely well. The shopkeeper was also fun, stepping outside of narrative conventions to be genuinely engaging and entertaining.
I think with better signposting at the end this story would be great, but even without that its still very good.
There are few things I love in this fandom more than I love Twinkie. Seriously, there's something about the dynamic of their characters that simply fills my heart with glee. And, in what's probably a sign of deeper issues, I love seeing and putting that pairing through hardships, be it loss, insecurities, or one-sided love, to this story hits a lot of positive points for me.
That being said, as much as I liked both the setting and the plot, there were a few things that stood out to me we're you could work a bit more. Mainly that we never got to experience more of Pinkie's inner troubles. We're told about them, and we get several clues about the past. That is great, but I feel it would've had more impact in the reader if we got to experience the events Pinkie talks about, or if she would have gone in more detail about how exactly she felt.
If your story is about loss, then the reader should feel that loss. We should be able to sense the sadness Pinkie feels about knowing that Twilight will never love her as she does. That, I believe, is the biggest missed opportunity with the story.
Still, I really enjoyed it, and as others mentioned, the Shopkeeper is a very interesting character. Great work, keep it up.
That being said, as much as I liked both the setting and the plot, there were a few things that stood out to me we're you could work a bit more. Mainly that we never got to experience more of Pinkie's inner troubles. We're told about them, and we get several clues about the past. That is great, but I feel it would've had more impact in the reader if we got to experience the events Pinkie talks about, or if she would have gone in more detail about how exactly she felt.
If your story is about loss, then the reader should feel that loss. We should be able to sense the sadness Pinkie feels about knowing that Twilight will never love her as she does. That, I believe, is the biggest missed opportunity with the story.
Still, I really enjoyed it, and as others mentioned, the Shopkeeper is a very interesting character. Great work, keep it up.
Yay, a story I have feelings on strong enough to warrant a comment.
I liked this. I'm having trouble saying more than that.
The whole mysterious shop thing was well done, and the shopkeeper is a very interesting character.The portrayal of both Pinkie is Twilight is great as well. Nothing negative really bit me other than the more-open ending, but I don't think it is as a huge of a sin as others may think it is.
I liked this. I'm having trouble saying more than that.
The whole mysterious shop thing was well done, and the shopkeeper is a very interesting character.The portrayal of both Pinkie is Twilight is great as well. Nothing negative really bit me other than the more-open ending, but I don't think it is as a huge of a sin as others may think it is.
Like others, I really want a more concrete ending. I do agree with billymorph - it feels like it went the 'She gave it all up' route. If so...I don't know. Pinkie may be happier, but perhaps we should see disquiet from Twilight, then.
You've got a really intriguing concept and a strong premise on top of it. And as a whole, everyone's voicing was done very well. This definitely kept me interested from beginning to end.
In terms of weaknesses, I'm not usually awfully bothered by this sort of thing, but the perspective shifts in the beginning and the end were a bit off-putting. Mostly because they seem to only be done to obscure plot-critical info—we start off in Twilight's perspective to make Pinkie's actions seem odd/strange, switch to Pinkie for the meat of the story, then switch back to Twilight to keep the ending vague. It feels a bit frustrating to be yanked from one character to another, especially when, as a direct result, we are kept finding answers to plot-related questions. That being said, I'm not entirely sure myself how to preserve the open-ended aspect of the ending while keeping it in Pinkie's perspective, so I'm not going to dock you too many points for that.
There's also a minor pacing hiccup towards the end of Pinkie's visit. You spend quite a bit of time with Pinkie as she debates what the right choice is, even as you also make it clear that she's "already made up [her] mind." It's not an incredibly big deal, but a couple hundred words of hemming and hawing is going to be noticeable, especially during the climax of your story. You might want to clean it up just a little.
Still, this is definitely a solid story, overall. It kept me engaged throughout, which is probably the single most important point by which I judge stories. Nice work!
In terms of weaknesses, I'm not usually awfully bothered by this sort of thing, but the perspective shifts in the beginning and the end were a bit off-putting. Mostly because they seem to only be done to obscure plot-critical info—we start off in Twilight's perspective to make Pinkie's actions seem odd/strange, switch to Pinkie for the meat of the story, then switch back to Twilight to keep the ending vague. It feels a bit frustrating to be yanked from one character to another, especially when, as a direct result, we are kept finding answers to plot-related questions. That being said, I'm not entirely sure myself how to preserve the open-ended aspect of the ending while keeping it in Pinkie's perspective, so I'm not going to dock you too many points for that.
There's also a minor pacing hiccup towards the end of Pinkie's visit. You spend quite a bit of time with Pinkie as she debates what the right choice is, even as you also make it clear that she's "already made up [her] mind." It's not an incredibly big deal, but a couple hundred words of hemming and hawing is going to be noticeable, especially during the climax of your story. You might want to clean it up just a little.
Still, this is definitely a solid story, overall. It kept me engaged throughout, which is probably the single most important point by which I judge stories. Nice work!
Hmm. This story kind of needs to decide on a perspective. For the most part, it seems to want to be from Twilight's, but occasionally it hops to Pinkie's before jumping back. Not a major issue, though, and it's pretty easy to fix. It becomes more stable once they separate, of course.
Shopkeeper was interesting, though his dialogue and word choice occasionally struck me as odd. Perhaps it's just more of that alien, not-quite-right air about him, though.
You use effective imagery when describing the settings, which is always nice. I wish Pinkie's recollection of her memories of Twilight were as vivid, though. We're given general ideas about what each item represents, but I'd want a precise understanding. It'd help the reader connect with Pinkie Pie more and make us more sympathetic to her plight. If we can see the moment Pinkie started falling for her--see Pinkie doing the things she does for her and why--our connection to the story could run so much deeper.
A lot of the back-and-forth between Pinkie and Shopkeeper felt like the story was talking in circles, especially consider they both acknowledge that Pinkie knows what she's decided to do. I understand it's meant to illustrate she hesitation and unease, but it gets repetitive. I would suggest trimmer those parts down a bit.
I like this. You demonstrate an effective grasp of scene-setting. Definitely a valuable skill. Characterizations were solid. I'd wish for a more clear end, but I think we can glean what we need to from what's there. I feel compelled to mention the odd usage of "person" and "people" throughout the story, though.
In all, nice work.
Shopkeeper was interesting, though his dialogue and word choice occasionally struck me as odd. Perhaps it's just more of that alien, not-quite-right air about him, though.
You use effective imagery when describing the settings, which is always nice. I wish Pinkie's recollection of her memories of Twilight were as vivid, though. We're given general ideas about what each item represents, but I'd want a precise understanding. It'd help the reader connect with Pinkie Pie more and make us more sympathetic to her plight. If we can see the moment Pinkie started falling for her--see Pinkie doing the things she does for her and why--our connection to the story could run so much deeper.
A lot of the back-and-forth between Pinkie and Shopkeeper felt like the story was talking in circles, especially consider they both acknowledge that Pinkie knows what she's decided to do. I understand it's meant to illustrate she hesitation and unease, but it gets repetitive. I would suggest trimmer those parts down a bit.
I like this. You demonstrate an effective grasp of scene-setting. Definitely a valuable skill. Characterizations were solid. I'd wish for a more clear end, but I think we can glean what we need to from what's there. I feel compelled to mention the odd usage of "person" and "people" throughout the story, though.
In all, nice work.
Echoing what Bachi said, the perspective shifts were pretty off-putting. If you're going with third-person omniscient, then clearly be omniscient. If you're going with third-person limited, then choose a POV character and stick to her.
I liked the overall vibe this story has. A few lines, in particular, struck me with their concreteness and attention to detail (the cake-spinner that Pinkie ruined trying to make a vase, for instance). And I wasn't overly bothered by the inconclusive ending.
Everyday mentioned that the Shopkeeper and Pinkie dialogue often felt circular, and I agree. I know Pinkie is somewhat scattershot, but reading her that way can be annoying if done too much.
Finally, I might have missed it the other side of the trade. Pinkie clearly gave up some knowledge (her love of Twilight, we're left to assume). But this story is about trades. What did she gain? I may have to read through this again to see what I missed.
I liked the overall vibe this story has. A few lines, in particular, struck me with their concreteness and attention to detail (the cake-spinner that Pinkie ruined trying to make a vase, for instance). And I wasn't overly bothered by the inconclusive ending.
Everyday mentioned that the Shopkeeper and Pinkie dialogue often felt circular, and I agree. I know Pinkie is somewhat scattershot, but reading her that way can be annoying if done too much.
Finally, I might have missed it the other side of the trade. Pinkie clearly gave up some knowledge (her love of Twilight, we're left to assume). But this story is about trades. What did she gain? I may have to read through this again to see what I missed.
>>Cold in Gardez
I believe the point was to gain the recipe for Twilight's favorite cake.
But this story is about trades. What did she gain?
I believe the point was to gain the recipe for Twilight's favorite cake.
“I got exactly what I wanted, Twilight! A beautiful new recipe for your super-secret birthday! It’s your favouritest cake ever!"
There are a lot of unnecessary paragraph breaks sprinkled throughout this piece, particularly early on.
I like the character of the Shopkeeper quite a bit - or I should say, I liked the character from this point forward:
Up until this point, I had the impression that something was significantly off with Shopkeeper, as though he wasn't entirelyhuman pony, a la G-Man from Half-Life. After this line, though, Shopkeeper turns into Cal Lightman from Lie To Me - a lovely voice to have in my head, mind, and I liked the depth that association lent to the character (especially considering the nature of the shop).
I guess my point is that I didn't really get the Londoner accent from Shopkeeper until he started barking out the window at Twilight - prior to that, I thought his dialogue was just stilted and awkward for awkwardness's sake. You may want to consider throwing in a "cor blimey" or something earlier on to help stick the voice you're shooting for.
All that said, I think it's pretty obvious what you were shooting for with the ending, but I think you contradict yourself as well:
If Pinkie Pie is taking nothing with her, where is the cake recipe coming from?
Overall, I liked this story, Writer. With some more spit-shine and elbow grease, this could be a very poignant tale indeed.
Final Thought: Nobody Remembers Lie To Me, Do They?
I like the character of the Shopkeeper quite a bit - or I should say, I liked the character from this point forward:
“Cor, that’s really her, isn’t it,” The Shopkeeper said.
“Yeah!” Pinkie reaffirmed.
“Oi, Princess!” The Shopkeeper yelled down through the window. “Cooee! Oi! Quit runnin’ about, there!”
Up until this point, I had the impression that something was significantly off with Shopkeeper, as though he wasn't entirely
I guess my point is that I didn't really get the Londoner accent from Shopkeeper until he started barking out the window at Twilight - prior to that, I thought his dialogue was just stilted and awkward for awkwardness's sake. You may want to consider throwing in a "cor blimey" or something earlier on to help stick the voice you're shooting for.
All that said, I think it's pretty obvious what you were shooting for with the ending, but I think you contradict yourself as well:
“Right,” The Shopkeeper said, shaking the forms about. “So, what knowledge are you going to take with you?”
“I’m taking nothing,” Pinkie replied.
If Pinkie Pie is taking nothing with her, where is the cake recipe coming from?
Overall, I liked this story, Writer. With some more spit-shine and elbow grease, this could be a very poignant tale indeed.
Final Thought: Nobody Remembers Lie To Me, Do They?
I loved this story, except for the first part. I kept felling that both Pinkie and Twilight were "off" somehow. I agree with Remedyfortheheart that you should just skip the intro. It does nothing important for the story other that make the reader uneasy- at least that how it affected me.
Otherwise, brilliant OC, but you should make Shopkeeper's accent obvious a bit earlier.
Otherwise, brilliant OC, but you should make Shopkeeper's accent obvious a bit earlier.
Gosh, a Twinkie story?
A deliciously sad one?
Well, this worked well enough. The Shopkeeper did his job well, and Pinkie Pie was Pinkie Pie, but a sad Pinkie.
That said, I do have to echo some unhappiness with Pinkie Pie not walking away with anything; it is all about trades, and Pinkie wanted nothing but to erase the memories of her loving Twilight. But… well, I’m not really sure that even makes sense. Is that even knowledge? Is Pinkie just going to fall in love with her again? And given that the whole thing centered around trades, her getting nothing doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense.
I’m also left with some fridge logic – why does Pinkie think she went there in the first place? Does that count as ancillary knowledge? Or not?
I can’t say that I didn’t really like this, because I did, but the ending felt like a bit of a let-down after so much build-up – I was expecting SOMETHING there, but instead I didn’t really feel like I got much and was left still feeling kind of confused.
A deliciously sad one?
Well, this worked well enough. The Shopkeeper did his job well, and Pinkie Pie was Pinkie Pie, but a sad Pinkie.
That said, I do have to echo some unhappiness with Pinkie Pie not walking away with anything; it is all about trades, and Pinkie wanted nothing but to erase the memories of her loving Twilight. But… well, I’m not really sure that even makes sense. Is that even knowledge? Is Pinkie just going to fall in love with her again? And given that the whole thing centered around trades, her getting nothing doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense.
I’m also left with some fridge logic – why does Pinkie think she went there in the first place? Does that count as ancillary knowledge? Or not?
I can’t say that I didn’t really like this, because I did, but the ending felt like a bit of a let-down after so much build-up – I was expecting SOMETHING there, but instead I didn’t really feel like I got much and was left still feeling kind of confused.
Reflections and an open note
Hi, everyone.
I'm gonna go into a bit of a long thing here, so I do want to get the short-stuff out of the way first and foremost. Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story and sent their feedback. I'm not sure if I'm going to go anywhere with this, however (maybe, depending) because this entire ordeal had been quite frustrating for me, and it's something that I feel I need to address (nothing bad, though!)
There have been quite a number of thoughts on this story, a lot of which are due to my writing, and a some of which are contradictory, so I might not really know how to address them all. This does not mean I do not find your feedback valuable. I'll try to clarify certain points and get to the meat of things, all in due time. But first, there's an issue that I want to bring up.
OPEN LETTER TO ROGERDODGER
I don't join this competition often. This is my 2nd time only, and while it's been fun, it's usually just on a 'whim' kind of deal for me. I haven't written at all for the past 5 months due to issues that some of you are aware of, and mainly, I was using this as kind of a way to force me back into writing.
So what happened was that I booted up a tab on my browser and left it open, using the timer as an indication to how much time I had left, and I went about my business.
It would be many days later when I take a glance at the clock and was happy that there was still always enough time left. But then, I started to realize that the clock wasn't moving.
The clock stops.
After refreshing the browser, it turned from 2 days 13 hours to 11 hours left, and I had to pump out the fic in its entirety in the small remaining time I had left. Due to timezone differences, I started at about 11 pm and wrote straight up until 6 am, and I had no time in the morning to give it a proper edit or even do more than call my friends at the last minute to take cursory glances (to which I am extremely grateful).
Now, not to get the tone wrong, but I realise this comes off as the ramblings of a petulant child, but I'm not actually trying to bitch about it or say omg this was the fault of everything. I should definitely have kept better awareness of the situation, and the blame was entirely my own. I am of course also very happy and grateful to your work on this site and for organizing it, and for, well, everything that you do on behalf of the competition, which is very very cool.
However, I think it's important that if you're going to use a timer as a reminder or a notification for users, it really shouldn't stop half-way through its run, especially when people are relying on it as indication of progress. It's a good tool, a useful tool, but it should work so that people CAN rely on it faithfully.
As a manner of testing, I opened it up on another computer and it also stops there after a while (tested using the prelims clock) so unless both of my computers are busted, this is a thing. I used chrome and MSIE for testing, and I don't know how long it takes before it stops but it is somewhere between 6 and 18 hours.
If this issue is already known, I'm also sorry for bringing it up again.
Right, now that's done, let me address the comments.
Delicious, tasty comments.
The story above also is used to highlight another thing. I'm fully aware that this story is a bit of a mess. if you didn't bother to read, the tl;dr version is that I wasn't paying attention to time, and I forced everything out scant hours before the contest ended, which resulted in a rushed and horribly composed piece of work. You guys have literally read my first draft, and I'm honestly terribly embarrassed by it.
So before anything, I'd like to apologize for this.
Since everyone seems to have their own ideas and interpretation of the story, and a lot of points have been repeated, I'd like to address the story idea itself rather than talk to individual people.
Firstly, the burning question:
Pinkie traded away her knowledge of her love for Twilight in exchange for a cake recipe. This is definitely what happened.
I thought I was more concrete with the ending, but it seems I need to point to it more. I'll fully put my hand up for this one. Some people got it, some didn't, but I'd like for everyone to get it. This was not meant to be as ambiguous as it turned out.
There was one little thing that made a big difference that as a mistake I noticed as soon as the entry closed. I'd forgotten to italicize one single word, which I believe would have changed the reading quite dramatically.
Pinkie's last line in the shop : "I'm taking nothing", had the wrong stress. The stress was supposed to be on the word 'taking' rather than 'nothing', but I had forgotten to italicize it.
"I'm taking nothing" was meant to put the emphasis that it was more of the sacrifice that she had to make in order to preserve their friendship, in line with the repeated use of 'sacrifice' in the previous few exchanges with The Shopkeeper.
Of course, there could be other ways to point to it, but I am much for a fan of subtlety in my writing, so if anyone else has any ideas on how I can gently poke at it without painting it red, I'd love to hear thoughts.
On the subject of POV
I also realize the weirdness of the POV jumps in the intro and outro. Not gonna make excuses here, I'm just going to have to fix it. I'm wondering, however, how to frame it from Pinkie's side without being overly dramatic. Any thoughts on this?
However, to address the comments that they're unnecessary, I'm afraid I respectfully disagree with that.The whole point was to show the difference in Pinkie's character from before and after, when she was burdened and when she was then later lifted from her burdens. She acted heavily in the intro because she felt heavy, and she was back to 'normal' in the end because she was no longer weighed down. The bookends were just meant to be perspective juxtapositions.
The Shopkeeper's accent
It definitely could have been made more apparent earlier. Thank you to those who mentioned this!
On excessive back and forths between Pinkie and the Shopkeeper
I'm not sure about this one. Not because I don't see the point, but because some people have told me it wasn't enough for the point I was trying to make, and then there are some telling me it's too much for the point I was trying to make.
If anything, I think it's about how I presented the idea, which was awkwardly done. What the idea in my mind was, was that I was going to keep it open for interpretation, but writer's direction was that the shop, on a mystical level, serves as an path to help people make the decisions that they want to be are too afraid to. Pinkie went there because on some subconscious level she wanted to. The shop was just a tool for her to help herself. Thinking back, perhaps I should have left all the ideas of 'I have to do this' and the 'you already know what you want' to the very end, right before the final drop, leaving the earlier scenes open for reminiscing. I don't know. Thoughts would be appreciated, on the heels of this being what I was trying to accomplish.
On Pinkie GETTING nothing
The idea was that what she got, symbolically, was her relationship back to steady shores rather than the rocky mess of an unrequited love. What she got physically was the cake recipe because, well, it's something, and also it's that symbol that conforms to the friendship.
I know that something was throwing a lot of people off, and I think it was the mishandling of the final line, but if anyone else has any reasons why they got the vibe that Pinkie got nothing out of the exchange, please let me know what it was.
have I missed anything?
Please! Ask a question. I will send you a pizza roll.
Final word
Once again, I do have to apologize to the readers. I'm terribly upset at myself, a little bit angry (not going to lie) and this was really messily done. Having explained myself and the ideals, I would definitely love any thoughts in which I could strengthen this, and perhaps any noise about maybe even if it were worth it at this point, because I kind of feel like it's just full of cracks. Maybe I'm just tired, but either way. Regardless of what happens, all your feedback has been and certainly will be invaluable to me learning from my mistakes and working my way to throwing a story together better.
Thank you to everyone who read it, and thank you to everyone who voted for it, and thank you to everyone who took the time to comment. Thank you all for liking the OC and setting! I do enjoy having fun with them. I appreciate your time very much, readers, so thank you, and once again thanks to RogerDodger for putting all of this together.
Peace,
KR
>>KitsuneRisu
I know that feel, man. I've complained enough about my own abbreviated schedule this round. I'm glad yours came together better in the short time you had.
I liked Trade. I like more that it signals you getting back into writing! :) Thanks for swinging by the Writeoffs, and I hope to see more of you both here and Fimfic!
I know that feel, man. I've complained enough about my own abbreviated schedule this round. I'm glad yours came together better in the short time you had.
I liked Trade. I like more that it signals you getting back into writing! :) Thanks for swinging by the Writeoffs, and I hope to see more of you both here and Fimfic!
>>KitsuneRisu
That doesn't really sound like something I can fix. If the timer stops after a long period of inactivity, that's the browser being too smart for its own good. If the browser decides the process is inactive and halts the event loop, there's no code I can have in there to wake it up (because the code won't be run).
There was a problem beforehand of the timer becoming out of sync, which was fixed a while ago. But in this case, the only solution I can think of is that you don't trust a timer that isn't ticking.
That doesn't really sound like something I can fix. If the timer stops after a long period of inactivity, that's the browser being too smart for its own good. If the browser decides the process is inactive and halts the event loop, there's no code I can have in there to wake it up (because the code won't be run).
There was a problem beforehand of the timer becoming out of sync, which was fixed a while ago. But in this case, the only solution I can think of is that you don't trust a timer that isn't ticking.
>>RogerDodger
That's an unfortunate shame!
Thanks for getting back on the issue, though. Guess nothing will beat pure diligence in any situation.
>>horizon
Well, them's the breaks. I'll just need to polish it up and maybe have it ready to post by 2018! Yeeey~
That's an unfortunate shame!
Thanks for getting back on the issue, though. Guess nothing will beat pure diligence in any situation.
>>horizon
Well, them's the breaks. I'll just need to polish it up and maybe have it ready to post by 2018! Yeeey~