Discovery
Dear Princess Celestia,
I have finally hit a wall in one of my most interesting areas of research, as of late. I have been looking into the utopia that comprises Equestria, and I cannot figure it out. The cause of our general happiness doesn't seem to derive itself from any of the factors that I've been able to study: not our abundance of food and wealth, or our thriving culture, or even our peaceful coexistence. I know that there has to be some root cause for Equestria's happiness; it is a basic causal relationship, and yet I cannot locate the cause. Could you perhaps shed some light on my conundrum?
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle
Dearest Twilight,
I knew this day would come. Out of my affection for you I had put if off as long as I could, but I realize now that I couldn't hope to shelter an inquisitive mind like yours. I request your presence in Canterlot, post haste.
I'm sorry.
The text of the letter from Celestia burned over and over in Twilight's mind as she trotted up to the gates of the Canterlot Palace. She couldn't appreciate the ornate architecture nor the familiar wave of the guards as they parted to allow her entry. Twilight had gone past the gates too many times already, their grandeur lost into the background.
Lost in her thoughts, Twilight almost didn't notice as she was met by Princess Celestia herself.
“Twilight.” Princess Celestia stood very still, her unreadable gaze breathing an air of unease into Twilight's mind.
“Princess?”
Celestia turned and began trotting towards one of the less-traveled areas of the castle, her smooth gait indicating that Twilight should follow. The two walked slowly through the castle grounds, Twilight anxiously watching her mentor's posture for the slightest hint of displeasure.
“P-princess, if I did something wrong, I'm very sorry. Please don't--”
“Banish you to the moon? No, Twilight, no banishment is in order.” Celestia didn't bat an eye nor glance down at her student as she spoke. “You are not here to be punished, at least in a sense.”
Twilight only looked at Celestia with further confusion.
“But I don't understand, then. What are we doing?” The two had left behind most other ponies as they trotted through the castle grounds, and now stood before the hedge labyrinth where Twilight and her friends had first dealt with Discord. Twilight's unease only increased as the Princess went in without hesitation, as though she'd done it countless times before.
“Twilight, you asked about the cause of Equestria's joy. I am here to answer that question.”
Celestia's uncharacteristically stoic behavior morphed Twilight's unease into dread, her heart sinking under the weight of it. It also didn't help that the Princess had opened up a concealed entrance among the walls of the hedges. She began descending the steps within, and Twilight paused at the door before following. The little unicorn cast fearful glances all around, her analytical mind absorbing the details of the creepy setting, from the dim light provided by floating torches to the dank smell of general decay that permeated the air.
At last, the stairs ended in a short hallway, leading up to a door. If Twilight had been afraid before, now she was in full-on panic mode; the door was more heavily fortified than a bank vault, heavy slabs of steel criss-crossing the gate in the shape of magical runes that formed a powerful sealing spell. Celestia stopped just before the door, leaving a slight gap between her and Twilight, who had frozen up at the base of the stairs.
“Princess, what is this?”
“This is Equestria's happiness, my faithful student.” Celestia waved a hoof, and the vault door opened like a curtain, each side peeling back to allow entry.
The room beyond was pitch black, with absolutely no light coming from within. Twilight could hardly even see a few hoof-lengths in, since the torch-light was so dim. The fur on the nape of her neck stood on end as she tensed her body. Almost in a trance, she approached the dark room, her hooves making eerie clacks on the bare stone.
Standing at the entrance, she could still make out nothing inside, although the odor of decay intensified tenfold; Twilight had to choke back a gag or two. She looked back to Celestia, whose gaze had hardened into granite. Celestia made no motion, and so Twilight entered the room with a frightened gulp. Her hooves suddenly sank into a soft substance; Twilight prepared to light up her horn when she heard a rustle of motion from the darkness.
Her body locked up of its own accord, the approaching shuffling sound paralyzing Twilight's mind in fear. By instinct she lit up the room with her horn.
It was utterly bland. The walls were perfectly smooth stone, enchanted to be nigh impenetrable. Scattered around the floor were piles of feces, disgusting, rotting lumps of urine-soaked scat. Twilight's mind numbed as she realized that she was standing on one such pile. There was a sound like hissing, gurgling, coming from the direction of the motion. Twilight looked with a heavy heart towards the disturbance.
Laying almost at her hooves was a pony. It was difficult at first to make out what color the mare's fur was, as her skin was riddled with sores and rashes and scabs and smears of rotting feces. Twilight absently recalled that such skin problems resulted from near-perpetual contact with equine excrement. The little pink mare- or perhaps more hauntingly, the little pink filly- was curled up in the fetal position, twitching uncontrollably as she shielded her eyes with her hooves. It occurred to Twilight that perhaps living in such dark conditions made her eyes overly sensitive to light. The groveling pony's body was thin, far more so than the popular models; she seemed a malformed skeleton, her skin clinging to her bones like taut string around a tent stake.
All this ran through Twilight's mind, her rational thoughts locked in a downward tailspin. Without thinking, she dimmed the light from her horn to nearly nothing, and the pink filly paused in her quivering. She uncurled from her position and hesitantly lifted her hooves from over her eyes. Pleased with the sensory input, or maybe the lack thereof, she looked up at Twilight.
The two locked eyes. Twilight's pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks. The filly's gaze stabbed her heart, her very core, a knife of icy clarity. The little pony's eyes were vacant, absent of intellect. There was no animating spark behind the glazed purple orbs, no warmth that made her equine. The irises' spiraling white lines seemed to curl back upon themselves, whirlpools of thoughtless irrationality.
The filly reached out a feeble, bony hoof to Twilight, who, frozen by shock, did not resist. Twilight shuddered as the raspy, rough hoof wrapped around her own perfect purple one.
“Mmmaaaa.” The thing resembling a pony was producing sounds from its vocal chords. Her speech, if it could be called that, was slow and thick, and Twilight could tell that it didn't understand what it said. It was only a muscle memory, a reflex. “Mmmmmeeeeee? Mmaa. Mmee? M-mammee?”
Twilight took a step back, a nameless horror frothing in her consciousness. The creature's grip on her hoof was so weak that Twilight barely noticed any opposing force. The filly look-a-like bleated piteously as Twilight retreated backwards, neither breaking eye contact. Twilight could see the abject terror of abandonment in the eyes of the thing, and more hauntingly she could see her own reflection like in a mirror. She wasn't sure which of them was more afraid.
Twilight continued to back up, each of the filly's whimpers lashing her ears like a whip. Her fixation on the filly was only broken as the vault door shut, sealing the creature away once more. Twilight sat on her rump unceremoniously.
“The happiness of Equestria?” she whispered.
“Yes, my student." The first hint of emotion could be heard in Celestia's voice, and it was concern.
“I- What- How can this be?!” Twilight rounded on Celestia, righteous anger flaring in her eyes. “You're supposed to be the protector of ponies! How can you let this filly suffer?”
“How can I let ponykind suffer?” Celestia's eyes began to water; Twilight could tell when her mentor thought she knew the outcome of a situation already.
“How does torturing that filly equate to saving ponykind? That makes no sense!” shouted Twilight.
“You don't understand, then. I should have known better, I'm sorry, Twilight. I usually expose ponies while they're still young, while they are still forming their personalities. Please, Twilight, just take some time to think it over.”
Twilight shouted so many angry things in her mind, so many ways that Celestia's argument was flawed. In the end, though, she was silent. Twilight looked away, the tears beginning to flow from her eyes.
“It would be rational to think it over. Of course.” Twilight galloped up the stairs, not caring whether Celestia kept up.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I'm sorry it has come to this, but I cannot in good conscience live in a land where the happiness of the world depends on the total suffering of one. I cannot live off of the pain of another. Maybe someday I'll be wise enough to understand why that filly must suffer, but until that day, I will find my place elsewhere, beyond Equestria. Goodbye, Princess. I hope we will speak again someday.
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle
Celestia stood on the balcony, watching through the telescope as the distant purple dot disappeared over the horizon. She could hold back the tears no longer, and began to cry great, heaving sobs. Celestia knew from experience that Twilight would never return, they would never speak again. It was her worst nightmare; Twilight had become one of the ponies that trotted away from Canterlot.