There was a filly who had just received her cutie mark. On the rock farm where she lived, she threw a party for her family. When I tried to find the occasion for it, I found that she had done it for the sole purpose of filling her family with joy. Seeing this, I watched her for another seven years. The name of the pony was Pinkamena Diane Pie.

For these seven years, she toiled upon the farm; doing her work with an ever-present grin. She was ecstatic most of the day, even though her body showed signs of fatigue, her mind was jubilant. When Suffering passed over her and her family, she spoke with an effervescent tone each day. “Smile everypony. Today is another day. We’ll get through this and then we can have another party.” No hardship could quench the fire that burned inside of her.

When one of her sisters asked how she could be so relentlessly glad despite these hardships, she said, “I’m not going to let anything that happens make me frown. I’m not happy or sad because of what happens. I choose to be glad. You should do that too frownypants.”

I had realized that she had this in mind previously, but to hear it come out of her mouth surprised me beyond measure. Her words seeped out like honey from her lips; containing the wisdom which would take centuries to gain. While she had lived for a short while, she spoke freely the great secrets that the old sages searched for tirelessly. Furthermore, here she was explaining them with simple words as though this wisdom did not contain treasures which so many have longed to grasp but failed despite all their years of hard work; for many have embarked on the quest for joy, but so few have returned with anything more than destitution. None found it. Yet it was not as though she did not appreciate or realize the gravity of her understanding. She went about each day with not only the joy from that secret, but also with the resolve to show her sisters how valuable it truly was. “Come on girls. It’s so great to wake up in the morning with a smile.” She said. “It just makes everything really worth it.”

I asked myself, “How does perfection like this exist? I have never met anyone like this before.” I said this everyday throughout the seven years.

When the seven years had passed and the mare became an adult, she told her family that she wanted to move into town and live there. They allowed her to go because she was of age to leave their care; though they were sad to see the light leave from them. Yet when she left, her very memory kept with them a shadow of joy.

When she arrived in Ponyville, she took a job at a bakery. There, she was given a new name: Pinkie Pie. Armed with this new identity, she went out into the center of the city whenever she was not working and declared, “Hey everypony, I’m here to make you all smile.” The passers by simply glanced at her, shook their heads, and went about their business. Yet she was unfazed. Each day she went out into the public and made it her task to befriend a stranger.

Before long, all the town was her friend. She would walk through the streets and call out to each pony and they would call back to her by name. Her attitude was contagious. Those around her would immediately grin and would experience a bout of happiness. For a time, Pinkie thought she had succeeded in her mission. But I saw that it was not long after she left that people would return to their despondent state to which they were accustomed.

It was at this time that I looked again to the Terrible Three who had assembled for council in light of recent events. I eavesdropped as before.

Suffering, the leader, spoke first. “There is talk now in the heavenly places of a savior in these parts who will destroy us.”

Discord responded nonchalantly. “Well of course there is. There’s always talk of some prophecy or some savior who’s going to come. It’s been like that since all this started. Really Suffering, I don’t know what you’re so worried about. It’s gossip and wishful thinking for all we care.”

“It is more than that and you know it. You know as well as I do that there is a mare in Ponyville who has resisted us since that day that she saw that sign in the heavens.”

He sighed. “Several have before too. I don’t see why you’re making a huge deal of it. It’s just one pony; one, small, oddball.”

Fear found her voice. “Yes, but I have been inside this one’s head before. It may be that she is the sole worry of as of now, but she certainly desires to change that. She goes about each day into the open and causes happiness wherever she goes. But she is soon bound to find that she needs to try harder. And when that happens we may be looking at a problem.”

Once more, a long sigh came from the dragon-horse. “Fine, since you won’t drop it, how about this: we’ll go and send a pony under our influence to her who she won’t be able to make happy. When she sees that she can’t perk him up, she’ll get frustrated and give up.”

Fear and Suffering both pondered this and after a few moments, they agreed that Discord had spoken well. “We will do as you say,” said Suffering. “For your plan is likely to work, and if it fails we expect to lose nothing.”

So within a few days, a newcomer walked the streets of Ponyville. He came from Canterlot. I had seen him before. He was the richest of stallions in the city; boasting the finest clothing, the most money to his name, and most connections to royalty of everypony around. Yet as he walked slowly and laboriously towards Ponyville, I saw that he was wearing nothing. He was carrying a small satchel and his cutie mark looked like it had been blotted out by a brand from a hot iron. He was apparently an exile; desiring to take up residence in Ponyville for the rest of his miserable days.

As he went into the city, Pinkie took no more than ten minutes to recognize a new face. Ecstatically, she greeted him, but he gave no response. She tried several more times, but he just dragged his hooves towards wherever he was going with a vacant expression on his face and not appearing as though he even knew Pinkie was before him. She tried several other things. She attempted to stop him with force, but although he looked weak and limp, he was very strong and continued onward. She tried to bring him presents, but he gave no response. She tried annoying him with torrents of speech, but he was unfazed. She tried singing, but his ears did not seem to pick up her song. He came to a house which had been vacant for years and inserted a key from his satchel into the lock.

He opened the door and on the way inside he finally responded to the efforts of his greeter. “Do not try to associate with me. The agony of my life will not allow me to do as you desire.” Saying this, he went inside and slammed the door.

Over the next week, Pinkie tried more and more to cheer up the glum pony. Yet despite all of her efforts, she could not so much as compel the stallion to speak again. He rarely went out, and when he did, it was to buy provisions and did not speak to anyone but the vendor. He seemed very fortified against her efforts, as though he truly did not desire an end to his mellow mood. I knew that this was because of Discord, but even with that in mind, his fortitude was to be admired. Finally, she became fed up and said, “That’s it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

She went to the house of the morose one and beat upon his door. When there was no answer, she continued to knock for an hour. When this time had passed, she shouted, “I’m not going to stop until you come out.” To my wonder, she was true to her word. She continued to beat upon the door for a full seven hours; not stopping to rest or eat. Even as a marathon runner passes by the thirteenth mile feeling as though he has no strength and continues on, so Pinkie indomitably endeavored to gain the stallion’s attention.

After six hours had passed, I spoke and declared that her effort was fruitless. Yet to my surprise, after all this resistance, he opened the door finally and said. “Quite the patience you have there, young mare.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

Slowly, the sullen faced exile asked, “Why should I tell you my name?”

“Because I need to know what to call you.”

“You asked me that question every day for a week, and every day I didn’t give it to you. Why still bother?”

“I need to know.”

He sighed. “Fine, because I grow tired of the constant lack of quiet, I’ll tell you. My name is Maximilian.”

“Can I call you Max?”

“I neither care, nor have the ability to stop you.”

“Max, we need to have a talk.”

“If I speak with you now, will you agree to never bother me again?”

“If you don’t want me to afterwards I won’t.”

“Do I have your word then?”

Pinkie made a few gestures and said, “Cross my heart, and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

Max blinked unresponsively at this, but allowed her inside.

I do not know what went on inside of that house then, but something amazing must have happened. For two days and nights the door remained shut, but on the dawn of the third day, the door opened. Out walked the two. The stallion had a weak smile on his face. I gasped as I saw this; for I thought it was impossible. The Three had their hand over this one.

They pressed hooves together in farewell and she asked, “See you later then?”

“It would be my great pleasure.” he said.

Pinkie waited until noon and then went out into the center of town again, as was her custom. Then, when many had congregated, she shouted, “Listen up everypony. No one is gonna be unhappy in this town on my watch. I’m gonna make sure those smiles stay there too. I’m gonna work hard at it every day and not give up until whatever is making everybody so sad runs away.”

So saying this, she began to spend time with her friends (which meant the entire town) whenever she could. She did this for weeks at a time, and found that they had deeply rooted problems. Yet she was not by any means dismayed by this, and she worked with them to fix their problems though she was affected by none of them. And when she came to a problem that seemed like she could not resolve, she simply thought hard about it or tried harder to help and every issue that she assiduously worked at was fixed. Slowly, as the months weeks crawled by, there seemed to be a general cheer in the town. As a whole, it seemed like it always was, but there were many who went about their business in good humor.

It was not long before the Terrible Three again amassed. They stood in a clearing in Whitetale Wood. Suffering shouted when they had appeared. “What is this Discord? What have you done?”

“Now, now, Suffering, let’s not jump to any conclusions. This is totally temporary; nothing to worry about.”

The pain-delivering alicorn was truly furious. “The mare has all but declared war upon us! She has not ceased in this endeavor since we followed your plan. Her joy is spreading like a plague throughout the town. It infects more each day. She goes about uncontested, not relenting in her transgressions against us; undoing our years of hard work. If this continues we will lose the region. And if she is not stopped, then the world will fall to her! You are blame for this. It was you who advised that we treat this lightly and you who took action that made the issue worse. The ruin of our toil is upon our doorstep because of you.”

He looked away and started to rub his eye. “Well, I don’t think that it’s entirely—”

“Enough of your folly! In freeing you from your prison I hoped that you would be of great help, yet, you have done nothing but hinder us in our purpose. Return to the stone from which we released you!”

Discord suddenly looked very afraid and started to back away. “Now hold on. Let’s not do anything hasty.”

Before Khaos’ son could react, the goddess took up her white spear with her mouth and ceremoniously thrust it into his chest. He grasped the wound and let out a great cry and disappeared; returning back to the castle gardens in Canterlot. Suffering dropped the spear and panted with a visage of hate and frustration.

Fear spoke softly. “I have no qualms over your decision to revoke the freedom of the draconequus, but judging him does not repair the damage that has been done.” The outraged alicorn did not respond so Fear continued. “It is clear that we could be facing war very soon. Thus, I believe it is necessary that we make our efforts to silence this threat much more direct.”

“What would you have us do? Please, let it be better than anything he had in mind.”

“The great master of war once said, ‘Avoid what is strong. Attack what is weak.’ While Discord chose to test her strength, I propose that we test her weakness. She is full of joy now; overcoming even the most difficult obstacle he could throw at her because no evil has befallen her. Yet if we bring tragedy upon her, she will weaken and fall to her knees.”

“But there is a thick wall around her. We cannot afflict her with any sort of suffering. What is there left to do?”

“There is more than one way to sack a walled city. The great master also said, ‘If we wish to fight, the enemy can be forced into an engagement even if he be sheltered by a high wall and a deep ditch. All we need to do is attack some other place that he will be obliged to relieve.’ I propose that we strike one of her close friends with an incurable sickness; a disease so severe that her friend will soon die. Losing someone that she had spent so much time with, she will become depressed and give up.”

And Suffering took Fear’s plan with great approval. So the next day, they went out into the town, unseen by everyone. And when they saw one who was called Sugar Song, an earth pony who was a great friend of Pinkie, Suffering drew an arrow across her silver bow and loosed it at her target.

It was not long before the mare collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. Pinkie soon came to her bedside. Sugar Song did not look well at all. Her white coat had faded and her yellow mane was brittle and tangled. She had many sores about her that looked quite painful.

“Pinkie,” the weak pony said. “Is that you?”

I looked and did not see worry, but compassion in Pinkie’s eyes. “Yes, it’s me. I Brought something that I think might make you feel better.”

Her friend looked at her with a broken stare and said, “I’m sorry Pinkie, but I don’t think it will. The doctors say I don’t have long.”

“Don’t say that. It isn’t over yet. Look! I’ve brought a friend,” The mare turned around and put on a clown nose and a yellow, polka dotted tie, then turned around. With a voice full of amusingly placed inflections, Pinkie said, “Hiya, Sugar, I’m Kooky Cake, the get-well clown. I heard you were feeling down, so I came by to cheer you up.” The party pony then proceeded to put on a show for her ill friend. She made jokes and performed difficult feats which often ended in purposeful failure, which was quite funny. And after a while, I could see the weak, pained look on her face become one of content.

Pinkie came back to the hospital and entertained her friend every day. A week passed by, and although Sugar Song should have passed away by then, she seemed to be hanging on by a thread. She still coughed up blood and spent much of her time groaning in pain, but she was still alive. The doctors were baffled by this and called it a miracle.

After a month went by, Pinkie Pie was still making visits. It was during one of these that her friend asked. “Pinkie, why are you so good to me? Why do you keep coming when it doesn’t look like I’m going to get better?”

Pinkie smiled and said, “Because I want to see you happy. I have to keep coming otherwise you might not be. In fact, as soon as you get better, I’m gonna find a way to end this sadness for good.”

The next day, Sugar Song’s condition improved. The following day her pain began to subside. On the third day, so rapidly, the sores on her body disappeared. She stayed in bed for a few more days and the doctors ran tests on her. And on the eighth day after Pinkie had answered her, she was discharged with a clean bill of health. The pink pony was overjoyed when this happened and threw a massive party which went on for two days that all of Ponyville attended. As this went on, I sat on the edge of the lake and tried to make sense of what occurred. I simply could not believe my eyes. The impossible had happened. Not only had Pinkie defeated Discord, but now she had contended with Suffering.

As if to further shock me, the next day, Pinkie went out into public again and declared, “Listen up, everypony. I know I said before that I wanted all the frowns to go away, but now its personal. I’m declaring war on frowns in this town and I won’t stop until they unconditionally surrender!”

A lit candle had appeared in Ponyville. And that candle was gradually being passed to all the wicks of its inhabitants. Surely the darkness would soon be overwhelmed. I was so happy because of the implications of this that I shouted these words from the top of a high mountain guarded by a dragon:

What is this wonder that I see before my eyes?

It is unthinkable, inconceivable, unimaginable.

Behold in the town of Ponyville is a mare

Who defies the laws of the world.

Look now! She prepares for battle.

She readies herself against the dark ones.

With haste she puts on shining armor.

With speed she dons the clothes of war.

On her front hooves she binds sandals,

Which no evil can hope to thwart.

On her left is the inspiration of meaning,

And on her right is the forceful drive of purpose.

On her rear hooves she binds shoes,

Which will help her halt the adversaries’ charge.

On her right is the bulwark of determination,

And on her left is the entrenching cleat of endurance.

On her body she fastens armor,

Which no enemy can hope to pierce.

To her chest she fastens the breastplate of love

With which she conquers even the Dark Lord

Upon her back she sets the saddle of courage,

Which bears her unyielding spirit.

And on her head she places the helmet of joy

with which she predeclares her victory.

Out of her mouth comes blissful laughter:

That doubled-edged sword which cuts adamantine rock without fail.

And on her side is the shield of peace and will:

The ramparts which will never fall or give way.

Rejoice all Equestria!

She will fight for your freedom.

Tremble O terror; shudder Suffering!

Her campaign against you will not cease.

Next Chapter: The Opening Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 18 Minutes