In the village of the kirin, there were many reasons to celebrate.

There were the usual reasons, of course, shared in many respects with the other nations. Celebrations for the changing of the seasons, for harvest and planting. Ones to honor their dates of founding or when famous kirins from history were born.

Other celebrations existed for more local reasons. The Queen’s birthday, for one, as well as the anniversary of the day they regained their voices (though that one was currently just in planning: the calendar had yet to revolve once since the event itself occurred).

And then there were the little celebrations. Small, spontaneous little things, borne of a moment’s passion and put together almost on the spot. A bright sunny day after weeks of rain. Visits from foreigners. Oak Pyre getting her head unstuck from a barrel. Oak Pyre getting her head stuck in the barrel. Little joys of life.

Today, Autumn Blaze had gathered her kin in the village square for a surprise that she promised would warrant a celebration bigger than anything they’d had since the return of their voices. They gathered eagerly, whispering in low voices between friends as they wondered what her surprise could be. Most kirin rightly guessed that it had something to do with the large, tarp-covered shape in the center of the plaza.

Soon enough, the mare of the hour emerged from beneath it.

“My friends, my fellows, my kirin,” she began dramatically, “Today I bring you something amazing. Since our re-connection with the outside world, we’ve learned that they made progress in the fields of science far beyond where they’d been when we first cut ourselves off. Recently, I learned of a fantastic new invention: one which I think is going to change our lives as much, if not more, than regaining our voices did!”

“This had better be good!” Somekirin called from the crowd. It was probably Cedar Cinders, that scamp, though no one could be certain. “You’re really hyping this up.”

A lesser mare would have frowned in irritation, but Autumn kept a cool smile. For she had knowledge on her side. Knowledge that, if anything, she was underselling the reveal.

“Well, since we’ve got a few impatient ivys in the crowd,” the joke earned her a chuckle, “I’ll skip right to the reveal. Kirin of the Peaks! I give you-”

She grasped the edge of the tarp in magic and in one swift swoop, whipped it away.

“The BOX!”

It was a cube. As tall as their queen and half that again on every side and made of a strange brown material that was neither wood nor metal nor stone. There was a strange… attraction about it, and nokirin present found themselves able to look away. Queen Rain Shine, who’d always had the strongest constitution among them, was the first to regain her voice.

“Autumn, just what is this that you’ve brought?”

Autumn Blaze patted the side of the box delicately. “This is what the ponies outside call cardboard. It’s sorta like paper, except strong enough that you can make storage boxes out of it. It’s smooth like stone, yet has the soft warmth of wood. You can store stuff in it, or climb inside, or a million other things!” She hopped up on top and gave the crowd a broad showmare’s wink. “And I haven’t even gotten to the best part!” Doing a little side-step dance, she negotiated open the flaps that made up the box’s lid. Reaching inside with her magic, she swiftly pulled forth-

“You can put more boxes inside the first one!”

She threw the smaller box out into the crowd where there was immediately a small scuffle for it. “No need to fight, there’s plenty to go around!” Like a bride who came prepared (if a little confused on procedure) she began to throw box after box out into the crowd of kirin, who whooped and cheered as the cardboard glory began raining down.

“This stuff is amazing!” Forest Fire cried as she rubbed her box against her face. “And they call it ‘cartboard’?”

“No, it was ‘hard bread’,” Chestnut Coals corrected as she took a bite out of hers. She chewed contemplatively for a moment before swallowing with a frown. “Eh, our bread is tastier though.”

“Hey! Mine’s flat!” Another mare held up the box she’d received which, rather than being a box proper, was better described as a long sheet.

“They collapse down to save space!” Autumn Blaze helped her out by grabbing a corner. Much to every kirin’s amazement, the formerly flat sheet unfolded and grew into a proper box.

“What kind of sorcery is this?”

“Ah! The box killed the sun!” said a box with a muffled voice. A hoof lifted it up from underneath and was quickly followed by the mossy green face of Oak Pyre. “Oh, wait, never mind.”

“Everykirin! Stop immediately and hearken to me!” With some reluctance, each kirin turned their attention away from their boxes and turned to their queen. She stood a little ways aside from the rest, no box in sight near her. “Look at what I just discovered!”

Queen Rain Shine lowered her head and began to charge. Directly in her path stood a box, one of the fancy ones that had expanded. At the last possible second before collision, she lifted her legs and sailed inside the box! The whole assembly slid forward for a few feet before coming to a stop: the Queen’s head and forelegs sticking out from the front of her box, while her tail and remaining legs emerged from the back! It was, by far, the funniest thing any of them had ever seen. Soon, kirin were sliding into boxes across the village.

“Look at this!” A few heads turned to Charring Mahogany, who was the closest thing the village had to a scientist. Lifting her horn, she gave it a very light magical charge and inserted it into the side of-

“What are you doing?!” Several voices cried in horror at her desecration. A few kirin tried to tackle the madmare.

“Wait! Just watch!” She hurriedly cut a few panels from the box, even as Flamin’ Daisy fainted from the sight. In moments it was no longer just a box, but a small house. Complete with four panel windows and a door. Pulling open the door, Charring quickly sequestered herself inside. “With some slight modification, it becomes even more multipurpose.”

The others gaped in awe at this fantastic transformation, with even Autumn Blaze joining in. She had thought before that she was the expert on boxes; knowledgeable of all their intricacies and keen to the multitude of ways in which they could be used. And yet, within only a few minutes, her friends and neighbors had proven truly just how little she knew. These cardboard boxes were not just a mere revelation, they were a revolution. Truly, it seemed like the only thing stopping them from being the absolute best thing in existence was the fact that each piece could only be made smaller and not larger.

“Hey! If you add some tree sap you can make them stick together!”

The world fell out from under her hooves and all of reality seemed to turn on its axis.

Queen Rain Shine sat upon her throne of cardboard, her cardboard crown sitting listlessly upon her head as her cardboard sceptre of office dangled limply in her grasp. The war had taken its toll on her, as it had on all of them. The cardboard had been a blessing at first, enriching their lives in more ways than they could count. But the blessing had come with a terrible curse: that there was only so much of it to go around.

After the castle had been constructed, using much of their supply, a schism had formed among the kirin. On one side, those that rightly believed that the cardboard boxes should be used for the betterment of all kirin. Such as building a royal palace big enough for almost ten whole kirin to fit inside without too much cramming. On the other side, the traitors —led by the duplicitous Autumn Blaze— who foolishly thought that the cardboard should be distributed amongst the masses on some sort of lottery or merit system based on their novel ideas for it.

Disagreements had led to arguments which had in turn led to all out war. The Queen and her supporters holed up in their cardboard fortress, protected by the finest walls anyone could ask for while the traitors had hidden away in their inferior homes of wood and stone in the old village. And while Rain Shine’s kirin fought valiantly, the traitors used despicable hit-and-run tactics to steal whatever scraps of cardboard they could. In mere hours, they’d stolen enough to build a castle of their own. It was a sham; a sad mockery of the Queen’s own regal palace. Taunting them from just across the pavilion with its art deco designs and ability to hold five kirin and have a whole second room for snacks.

Both sides had sustained losses. Searing Maple had gotten a nasty cut on her foreleg and Poplar Pyre took a tumble during a scouting mission that had turned into a barrel roll straight back into the Stream of Silence. She’d had to leave to find some foal’s-breath to clear it up.

Each castle had a hole in the topmost box: a tower with a window through which the leaders of each faction could glower at each other (though Autumn Blaze had to stand on somekirin’s back to reach). It was during one of these glowering sessions that kirin historians would later mark as a turning point in the war.

“The sun’s going down,” Rain Shine taunted, “I can only imagine how tired you and yours must be getting. Why not end this silly rebellion and rejoin your brethren? I assure you there will be plenty of room in the palace once you give back the East Wing.”

“As if!” Autumn Blaze threw back, her courage unwavering. “The moment we give the boxes back you’re going to glue them to your castle even tighter than before then seal the door on us! Don’t think I’m not clever enough to see through your plan. I read a lot of books back when I was banished. Sure, maybe most of them were the same series over and over, but it was still a lot of reading!”

“She does have a point though,” Autumn heard a muffled voice from beneath her complain. “It is getting pretty dark, especially since we covered up the windows.”

“Oh, I can fix that!” Said another.

Autumn’s eyes went wide as the realization hit, her mind flashing back to painful memories of the first box she’d encountered. “Wait, no! Don’t go Nirik!”

“You hear that?!” Rain Shine hollered down to her companions below, “She says not to go Nirik. It must activate some secret power of the cardboard! Quickly my subjects, call forth your angriest memories!”

“Noooooo!” Autumn wailed as her world was suddenly awash with purple flame.

In seconds there was nothing left but two groups of kirin, surrounded by ash, feeling incredibly foolish. Queen Rain Shine was the first to approach her former counterpoint.

“It… seems I may have acted foolishly. Seeing as how there is nothing left to fight over,” she held out a hoof, “Truce?”

Autumn Blaze took it eagerly. “Truce.”

They shook for a moment, sealing the reunification of their village, before Autumn spoke once more. “You know, this isn’t all of it. From what I’ve heard, Equestria is just loaded with cardboard boxes.”

Luna was enjoying a particularly delicious breakfast when it was so rudely interrupted by her sister giggling from across the table.

“Something amusing in the paper?” she asked around a bit of egg.

“Hm? Oh, not in the paper, no.” Celestia held up a scroll. “It seems that the kirins have declared war on Equestria.”

Luna’s eyebrow arched. “Really? Are they still doing that? After all these centuries?”

“They’ve gotten better about it as of late. This is their first declaration in almost a generation.”

“And what is it this time?” Luna rolled her eyes, already bored of the conversation. “Did they run out of yarn again? Or did somebody introduce them to focused light crystals?”

“Neither. It seems they demand either cardboard boxes or our immediate and complete surrender.”

“At least it’s something cheap this time. Come, let us finish breakfast and then head to the study to figure out the best way to appease their freshest whim.”

Celestia set aside the scroll. “Maybe we could have our ponies collect the boxes for us. Spin it as a new recycling initiative.” She shook her head with a wan smile. “Really, the things we do to keep them entertained.”