Anon, The Loremaster- /kinder/ - SymphonyAnon


                                            >Everypony respected Anon. Not for being the toughest, even though he scraped his knee and didn't cry.

                                            >No, they respected him as he was the country's loremaster. All tales, nice or icky were archived by the loremaster.

                                            >This of course includes horror stories, or what ponies would consider horror.

                                            >The loremaster's stories were known far and wide and ponies from all over would come to ponyville on Story Sundays to hear an interesting new tale.

                                            >Anon was just recalling old anime and game plots, but ponies found them incredibly interesting.


                                            >It was Story Sunday and you readied up the story sofa in front of your house, ponies would soon come to listen a tale.

                                            >Like clockwork, as soon as you finished that thought a couple dozen ponies manifested from the horizon, eager to hear a tale.

                                            >Just when you were about to recall about that one episode in (you)r favourite anime, one tough guy stallion spoke:

                                            >"You always tell us these wonderful stories, Anon, but I grow tired of the 'fillies eating food in school' stories, tell us something scary!"

                                            "Scary you say? Well, let me tell you... About the real monster under the bed..."

                                            >A couple yelps of horror were heard from the crowd, and the toughguy stallion was going white with fear.

                                            "Everyone knows about the monster under the bed, but what you don't know is how it looks."

                                            "It walks in all fours and creaks when it moves, and when you least expect it, 'crick!', it steps out and tickles your hooves!"

                                            >Ponies all around were looking behind their backs, afraid of the monster being their story time neighbour

                                            >That is, until a 'crick' was heard from the forest.

                                            >20 ponies fainted and those who didn't started saying their prayers for celestia and luna to save them from the cursed tickles.

                                            >How unbearably cute. You almost feel bad for scaring them so much.

                                            >Standing up, you start walking towards the source of the sound, ponies watching in awe at the incredible bravery you're displaying.

                                            >Going around the tree you find a timberwolf puppy happily chewing on a branch.

                                            >Carefully, you pick up the puppy and a couple of branches, and go back to the sofa.

                                            >"I-I... Is t-that the m-m-m-monster?"

                                            >You kept silent as you caressed the surprisingly smooth wooden puppy.

                                            >"L-LOOK! ANON HAS CAPTURED THE MONSTER FROM UNDER THE BED!" screamed one filly

                                            >All the surrounding ponies start crying in joy, their hooves saved by the loremaster.

                                            >Eventually, news about your victory over the bed monster reach the ears of Celestia and you're crowned Hero of Ponykind.

                                            >You kept the puppy as a pet and ponies sometimes come to look at the "danged monster from under the bed" with morbid curiosity.

                                            >Reports of monsters under the bed stopped after that fated day.


                                            >It's been a few months since you were crowned hero of equestria after "capturing" the monster under the bed (a timberpuppy) and life's been good to you.

                                            >You got a massive reward from the crown and bought yourself some expensive goodies.

                                            >Mostly coffee, assorted veggies, meat and beer.

                                            >It's surprisingly expensive to get these, ponies see coffee as poison, veggies are "icky" and beer is like rubbing alcohol to them, not to mention meat in a strict vegetarian country, so you had to get them imported from the griffon lands.

                                            >Ponies still come every sunday to listen to your stories and you happily oblige, they're just too damn cute to deny.

                                            >One thing you noticed however, is that you no longer were woken up at night.

                                            >You used to be woken up in the middle of the night every few days after a scared pony saw a monster under their bed and came to you for a bedtime story.

                                            >Thinking back you noticed that the monsters stopped appearing soon after you "captured" it and got rewarded.

                                            >Were ponies easily influenced or did you somehow erase the monster under the bed concept from the world?

                                            >You damn hope it's the former, the latter is too much power for a single man to hold.

                                            >Still, it's worth a test.

                                            >Next Story Sunday you'll tell a special story.


                                            >5 days later.

                                            >You took out the couch and as always, dozens of ponies came to visit. You swear you could see the mystical blue hair of Princess Luna somewhere in the crowd.

                                            "Today I'll tell you about boo boos. Everypony knows about getting boo boos, right?"

                                            >The crowd grimaced, the mere idea of pain was, well, painful to them, but you were the Loremaster, surely you had a reason to tell them!

                                            "I myself have gotten some serious boo boos. You might not notice it, but I've gotten... CUT! IN MY HANDS!" you say as you raise your left hand.

                                            >The crowd gasps in horror at the revelation, terrified that you survived such incredible injuries, some holding back vomit.

                                            >Yet as they inspect your hand with more detail they notice that you are NOT in fact bleeding or dying.

                                            >You could see them taken aback, how is it that you could tank life threatening injuries such as cuts? Were you an immortal in disguise?

                                            "There's this secret method I use to deal with these cuts. You know that brown-ish liquid that the nurseponies rub on you before sticking those nasty vaccine needles? That's called Povidone."

                                            >As soon as you mentioned vaccines the crowd turned white, everypony was vaccinated as all good ponies were, but it was a very tiring ritual for the pony.

                                            >Kinda like a funeral, but you got cake and cuddles for being brave.

                                            "Y'see. Whenever I get cut, I just rub some of that liquid on the injury and cover the place with a band-aid. A few days later I'm good as new! You can see my hand, no scars!"

                                            >A couple curious ponies approached and confirmed that indeed, your hands had no cut scars whatsoever.


                                            "Next time you get a serious boo boo, get some of that povidone from your boo-boo-aid kit, rub it on the boo-boo then cover it with a band-aid as I mentioned. You'll be good as new in no time! You won't even need a kiss on the boo-boo!"

                                            >With that, you ended that day's storytime and stood up.

                                            >"Mr. Anon... Is that story true?", asked an inquisitive filly.

                                            "But of course it is! I always eat my veggies and cut them myself, so naturally I sometimes get cut."

                                            >You hear the crowd murmur as you take your couch and drag it back inside the house.

                                            >You'll have to wait a few days to check your results. If nothing else, they'll at least know how to deal with minor injuries by themselves.


                                            >It's been a while ever since you told that boo-boo story and you've been lurking near the ponyville hospital the last few days.

                                            >Most of the nurses and doctors come to the nearby cafe to take their lunch break and eventual naptime, so you can chat and eavesdrop with ease.

                                            >"I still don't get it filly! I've barely had any work this week! A-Am I scaring ponies?"

                                            >"Don't get all worried, Greencross, I haven't had any work either. I've barely seen 4 or 5 ponies come in for a consult and 3 of them were for the hiccups. Ponies have been healthier lately."

                                            >"Still, it's weird. We usually get at least 20 boo-boos weekly. Are they hiding their boo-boos? That could be dangerous!"

                                            >"I don't think so, boo-boos can be life threatening, surely they'd come if they had such injuries."

                                            >You can't believe what you're hearing. Quickly standing up you leave the cafe and beeline for Rarity's boutique. She's a regular boo-boo patient at the hospital, surely she's gotten some boo-boos recently.

                                            >Soon after knocking, the door opens and a pale white unicorn comes to meet you.

                                            >"Ah, Anon! What a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in, I have some cookies for us to share while I finish this dress!"

                                            >As you enter the boutique, you look at the dress and notice it is doll sized.

                                            >Clothiers and Seamstresses were the pony equivalent of an explosives technician here. Ponies saw them as highly trained experts that dealt with very dangerous tools.

                                            >You can't help but smile as you see the unicorn sit on the chair, stuffing her mouth with butter cookies as she threads the needle on the cloth.

                                            >You felt bad for what you were about to do, but you had to confirm your suspicions.

                                            >Slowly creeping, you hug her from behind, which makes her jolt and sting her hoof with the needle.

                                            >Fully expecting a freakout, you had steeled yourself for the incoming panic.

                                            >But it never came.

                                            >"OH CELESTIA MY HOOFSIE! IT HUUURTS!" she cried in pain.

                                            >As you begin to apologize, she quickly levitates a bag with boo-boo supplies to her side.

                                            >And just like you described, she rubbed some povidone and placed a band-aid on the injury.

                                            >Could this be? Last time you saw Rarity sting her hoof she fainted and had to be taken by an ambulance.

                                            >You can feel her glare at you, mad that you made her sting herself.


                                            >As a sign of apology and empathy, you take a needle and willfully prick yourself on your index finger.

                                            >You can see her shudder at the action, but instead of calling for an ambulance, she just reacts like a mother would when seeing their child injuring himself.

                                            >She quickly levitates a small napkin soaked with povidone onto your finger then places a band-aid over it.

                                            >"You didn't have to do that, anon! I know you didn't mean it. We'll be ok."

                                            >That settled it.

                                            >The realization that you can slowly unkinderfy this place dawned on you as you were hugged by the surprisingly calm Rarity.

                                            >You hug her back, reassuring her that you're alright and just wanted to apologize.

                                            >You'll make sure to raise these ponies well. Such is the job of the Loremaster.