On the Nature of Alicorns

by Typoglyphic

Chapter Five

“Twilight?”

“Gah!” Twilight jerked upright. She couldn’t see. Panic started to rise before the taste of paper registered on her tongue. She lit her horn and pulled the drool-covered parchment away from her face. She’d fallen asleep at her desk. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. The surface of her desk was completely obscured by piles upon piles of notes, all filled from margin to margin with ink.

“Sorry, did I startle you?”

Twilight craned her neck and looked over her shoulder at Spike, who was standing in the doorway. “What time is it?” she croaked.

“Eh, not that late, don’t worry.” Spike turned to leave. “I was just checking if you were alive in here.”

Twilight groaned. Her back throbbed, and her legs were deadened. Sleeping in a chair was not ergonomically sound. She placed a tentative hoof onto the floor and shifted her weight, only for the floor to slip out from under her. She sprawled off the chair and into the piles of parchment that seemed to fill the entire room. How much had she done last night?

She lay there for a second and let feeling return to her extremities. She twisted her head and caught a glimpse of a page of notes beside her.

… Luna seems skeptical, but Celestia is proving a most willing participant in my project…

The words rang a bell, but she’d been so focused on deciphering the text that she hadn’t taken the time to read it before passing out. She rolled to her hooves and looked around. Where was the journal itself? Her desk was completely covered in notes, and the floor—she kicked a hoof, sending loose paper flying into the air—if it was on the floor, it would be a while before she found it. Had she finished deciphering it? She didn’t think so.

Well, she wasn’t going to get anything done while her study looked like this. She glanced at the window—she really had to set up a clock in here—and guessed that it was still early morning. Maybe Luna was still up?

She carefully picked her way over to the door and headed down to find Spike. It was far too early for breakfast, so she checked his bedroom, the throne room, and two different sitting rooms before she found him sitting in one corner of the library with a stack of comic books next to him.

He looked up as she entered the library and snickered. “Oh, wow. You actually got up.” He squinted at her face. “Not much sleep, huh?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “No, not really.” She yawned. “Can you take a letter?”

He grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that. Now, don’t move an inch.” He leaped to his feet and scurried around behind her. She felt his hand on one of her hind hooves, and she kicked the leg in question reflexively. She felt something slide against the frog of her hoof. He ran back in front of her with a piece of blank parchment in hand. “You brought some parchment with you.” She stomped her hind hoof a bit. Right, that hoof had felt weird.

Spike ran over to the library’s check-out counter, reached over-top, and returned with a quill. He brushed the back of his hand against the parchment, then looked up at her. “Dictate away, Princess.”

Twilight sighed, cleared throat, and began. “Dear Princess Luna.” She raised an eyebrow at Spike, whose jaw was clenching.

“That…” Spike sighed. “That was my second guess.” He walked back over to the counter and returned with another sheet of parchment.

“You really shouldn’t assume you know what I’m going to say, Spike.”

Spike grunted. “Yeah, sorry. Continue.”

“Dear Princess Luna,” she resumed, “I am excited to tell you that I have discovered the secret of Star Swirl’s journal, and am partway through deciphering its contents. It appears to be a logbook for a particular experiment of his. I was unfortunately too busy decoding the journal to actually read the majority of the text, but rest assured that my next letter will be accompanied by transcriptions of the deciphered plain text for your reading pleasure.” She smiled. “Signed, Princess Twilight Sparkle.” Spike rolled up the parchment, opened his mouth, and inhaled deeply.

“You remember Luna’s signature, right?” Twilight said before he exhaled.

Spike choked, coughed, and spluttered as the dragonfire caught in his throat. He massaged his neck with one hand and glared at her.

She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Spike sucked in a few breaths. “Yeah,” he grumbled, “I remember her signature.” He engulfed the journal in green flames. “Can I go back to reading now?”

Twilight nodded. “You and I both.” She turned and trotted back to her study. “Thanks, Spike!” she called over her shoulder. She just barely heard him mutter something under his breath. Oh well. He’d had the last few days off, mostly. He shouldn’t complain.

---

Her study was exactly as she’d left it: an absolute maelstrom of loose paper. She tiptoed over crumpled parchment and empty inkwells to her desk, and slid into the chair. Hopefully she’d kept the beginning of the journal on top of her desk somewhere. Luckily, it seemed that Star Swirl had dated each entry, so as long as she kept looking for earlier dates… ah. This one seemed like a start.

June 5th, 5608 CR

Now that my “students” have learned to pursue their own interests, I finally have time to return to my study of pony physiology. Progress is slow, naturally. Studying things thousands of times smaller than the pony eye can see presents numerous challenges no other mage has had to face before. It will all be worth it if I succeed though. It would be shameful for a unicorn to admit their desire to fly like a pegasus, but to be an alicorn… that is a worthy goal indeed.

Twilight blinked. Become an alicorn? Right, that’s what his masterpiece had done… she hadn’t even considered why Star Swirl would have made a spell like that in the first place. And pony physiology… Star Swirl was famous for his contributions to magical science, but the rows upon rows of his work on natural science that filled his wing of the Canterlot Archives made her wonder where his interests had truly been. She shifted some papers around and found a page with two entries that were dated only a weeks later.

June 25th, 5608 CR

Blast! I was greeted by a pounding headache this morning, and now I can’t even levitate a test tube steadily. But I’m close—so close!—to a breakthrough! I can’t write the day off. I’ll need to figure out some means of performing experiments without magic.

How in Equestria do earth ponies go about their days like this? They must have magic hooves or something.

She giggled despite herself. Race relations between the three tribes hadn’t been quite as civil as they were today. Star Swirl had been radical in his compassion for pegasi and earth ponies in his time, and some of his work on pony magic had led to the discoveries of earth pony magic in his own lifetime. Magic hooves, indeed. She moved to the next entry.

August 16th, 5608 CR

It turns out that necessity is the mother of invention. Hmm. I rather like the sound of that, actually. Perhaps I’ll use the phrase in public a few times, spread my genius around a bit.

Anyway. Yesterday, as I struggled to conduct an extremely small scale experiment using only these confounded hooves of mine, I invented another tool of science. I found that my spectacles just weren’t quite enough, so I gathered a few lenses and built a more powerful pair. The contraption is sitting on my workbench at the moment, just waiting to be used to view the smallest, most micro of experimental scopes ever! I think I’ll call this invention…

Super-spectacles. Yes, that sounds perfect.

Twilight suppressed a face-hoof. “Super-spectacles, really?” It sounded like Star Swirl had invented the microscope almost five hundred years before it was rediscovered by science at large, albeit with a much less suitable name. She smiled as she read on.

Using a combination of dye and other alchemical mixtures—whose contents I must remember to record somewhere—I managed to isolate specific threads within pony cells. What these threads signify has thus far eluded me, but I will learn their secrets in time! Based purely on speculation, I suspect that they are related to the pattern of a pony—the diagram of how they grow. Such a revelation would surely revolutionize the way we see… well, the entire field of biology, for a start. Perhaps it would even reveal some of the secrets of alicorn nature.

But now I’m getting ahead of myself. Empirical data first, sweeping change to the scientific norm second.

Twilight’s heart started to hammer. Threads? Dye? Colour? She thought back to her examination of his spell book. Was this… could this journal describe the creation of his masterpiece? She fumbled at the stacks of paper around her, looking for the next relevant entry. Come on… come on… Half of her notes were just copies of the backward text that she’d used to decipher the real journal, and they seemed to be all she could find. She dropped to the floor and shifted through the thick layer of papers below. Aha!

October 9th, 5608 CR

After I acquired some small—and truly, they were small, no matter what Luna claims—tissue samples from various subjects, I made significant headway. I am thus far unable to see any major differences between the threads (I really must invent a more appropriate name for them) of the three pony races. All share similar topography so far as my magic and super-spectacles indicate. The outlier, however, is the alicorn tissue sample. The alicorn cell’s threads were much more plainly visible in certain areas of the cell than unicorn, pegasus, or earth pony samples. Whether this is an important discovery on its own is a question I must investigate further.

So Star Swirl had involved Luna in his research? Why hadn’t Luna told her? Had she not understood what Star Swirl’s project had been about? The snippet she’d noticed when she’d woken up that morning crossed her mind.

“Luna seems skeptical, but Celestia is proving a most willing participant in my project…”

Celestia had known as well. Twilight mentally kicked herself. Of course she’d known. They had both been students of Star Swirl. So why had Celestia lied to her? Or had she? Twilight thought back on her discussion with the princess three days ago. Had Twilight forgotten to ask, or had Celestia… had Celestia been avoiding the subject?

Twilight shivered. Something felt wrong about all this. She grabbed another page. Oh, this one seemed to come next.

October 10th, 5608 CR

I seem to have reached the limit of what I can do with alchemical mixtures—Curses, I never did write down what those mixtures actually were, did I? That doesn’t matter anymore. It is time for the true experimentation to begin. Alongside this journal, I have prepared a collection of spells that I have designed to react with these chromacords—oh, yes. I named the threads, by the way. Chroma, because I initially discovered them by their colour, and cord because they look like corded rope. Etymology at its finest!

These chromacords seem to be mostly identical in every cell of a given subject, and almost identical between two subjects of same race. I have, with some of my most recent spellwork, found some discrepancies between cells belonging to different races, though the depth of those changes remains to be seen.

The closer I look at the alicorn samples, the less different from normal samples they seem. The only consistent deviation is that a single chromacord appears contorted or twisted in alicorn cells. I haven’t been able to determine whether this chromacord in particular is important, or if they are interchangeable. Perhaps I need to look into manipulating these chromacords in living cells somehow. If I can do that, then I might be able to more precisely determine their functions.

At the very bottom of the page, Twilight had left herself a little note.

Note: Refer to journal, page 35, for diagrams.

Twilight bit her lip. And she’d thought her ‘discovery’ about pegasus magic had been ground-breaking. The implications of Star Swirl’s research were staggering. On a biological level, of course, but also on a political level. If alicorns only different from normal ponies by a tiny, microscopic change in their cell structure, then maybe anypony could become an alicorn. Twilight realized her teeth were clamped tightly down on her lower lip. She winced and relaxed her jaw, tasting blood. She found another page of plain text.

December 3rd, 5608 CR

I gathered up a group of volunteers—well, presumably volunteers; I didn’t ask—and began testing my ability to interact with chromacords in living cells. The results are promising! I managed to split one chromacord in half in one subject, and merge two chromacords in another. I’m no closer to understanding the functions of these threads, but I certainly have the tools to begin to find out.

So Star Swirl was trying to change ponies into alicorns on a cellular level. Twilight’s skin prickled. Was that what had happened to her? There was a second entry on the page. She read on.

February 18th, 5609 CR

Eight months of research, and I believe that I have finally determined the purpose of at least one chromacord; it is what facilitates magic. Since all races share this thread—to a shocking degree of similarity—it would be logical to conclude that both pegasi and even earth ponies wield magic much as unicorns do. This of itself is a startling discovery. Far more interesting, though, is that this particular chromacord seems to be the only major difference between mortal pony and alicorn cell composition. I suspect that the root of alicornhood is in these minuscule structures.

Twilight gasped. Star Swirl had discovered pegasus magic as well. Was… could her discovery the day before be connected to his ancient research? She tore through the rest of the entry.

In light of this information, I am presented with two challenges. Firstly, I must find a way to transform pony chromacords into those of an alicorn. I am well on my way to overcoming this hurdle. The second challenge is much more prominent. Through my experimentation, I have tweaked the chromacords of individual cells hundreds of times. The cells are changed, but that change is not reflected in their neighbours. Unless I can find a way to alter every cell at once, alicorns will remain a rare phenomenon. And I will remain mortal.

Twilight tripped through the piles of notes. She lifted a stack with her magic and flipped through them in seconds, looking only at the date. These were dated too early. She grabbed another stack. Too late. She felt sweat drip down her face. She growled. Her horn flashed and every piece of paper was lifted up into the air. The cyclone of paper revolved around her, each note turning to face her as it passed. She grabbed one and held it still while the rest continued to spin through the air like an inky hurricane.

May 22nd, 5812 CR

I recreated a perfect alicorn cell weeks ago. I am ready to face the second challenge.

This will require spell work more complex than anything I’ve ever considered, and, thus, probably the most complex spell ever written in the history of magic.

There is no time to waste.

Twilight’s body was tense, her stomach tight. Her heart was racing. She grabbed another piece of paper out of the storm. The date was years later.

January 30th, 5822 CR

Finally! The spell—my masterpiece—is complete! The power source stumped me for months, but the answer was right under my nose. The Elements of Harmony. Their power is legendary, and with the final words of the spell, I will be able to harness that power. Everything is in its place. Ah, the ink is just about dry on the last page. My time has come. When next I write within these pages, I will have a new pair of wings at my sides.

Continued

It… failed. I passed out after I cast the spell and woke up only minutes ago. My spell did nothing! What did I do wrong? I’ve tested and retested every phrase, but I’m the same unicorn as always! I need to… I need more time. I will revise the entire spell until I succeed, even if it takes the rest of my life!

Twilight began to calm. Of course it hadn’t worked. Star Swirl hadn’t understood friendship, so the Elements of Harmony failed him. She had known that, though in her rush to read the journal she had forgotten. She let the storm of paper die down around her. A single sheet floated past her. She caught it in her magic. It wasn’t dated.

I am dying. I can barely levitate the quill to write this. I know what ails me. I inspected some of my cells. They appear to be corrupted, twisted. Wrong. I did this to myself. My spell is incomplete. Dangerous. I have given it to Celestia so that she can destroy it. Once I am finished this entry, I will encrypt this entire journal. Hopefully, some day in the far future, when ponies are wise enough to read these words without trying to recreate my folly, it will be discovered, and the world will know of the downfall of Star Swirl the Bearded.

It is a good thing I created that cipher spell all those years ago.

- Star Swirl the Bearded, Wizard Extraordinaire

Twilight fell back on her haunches. The date of Star Swirl’s death had been… just weeks after last dated entry. This must have been the last thing he’d ever written. Her eyes stung, and her vision was blurred with tears. She wasn’t sure if she was crying for Star Swirl, or for herself. Why would Celestia have sent her this spell? Why was she trying to hide the truth from her?

What was she going to do now?

“Twilight!”

She looked up as Spike ran into her study. His eyes widened as he took in the state of the room and her tear streaked face. He hesitated, then held out a rolled paper.

“I just got a letter from Celestia.” He paused. “I’m sure it’s for you.”

Comments

[i_am_the_jam]

So Starswirl discovered cells, chromosomes, and DNA, interesting...

[Majorshane]

He ran back in front of her with a piece of blank parchment in hand. “You brought some parchment with you.” She stomped her hind hoof a bit. Right, she that hoof had felt weird.

He ran back in front of her with a piece of blank parchment in hand. “You brought some parchment with you.” She stomped her hind hoof a bit. Right, that hoof had felt a little weird.

Or

He ran back in front of her with a piece of blank parchment in hand. “You brought some parchment with you.” She stomped her hind hoof a bit. Right, she thought that hoof had felt weird.

[BurningSkies]

I know what ails me. I inspected some of my cells. They appear to be corrupted, twisted. Wrong. I did this to myself. My spell is incomplete. Dangerous.

Star Swirl's spell is genetic engineering. Cancer cells have genetic mutations that allow them to multiply wildly without controlled cell death.
Did Star Swirl give himself cancer because he didn't understand friendship?