A Project! · 1:03pm Jun 28th, 2016

I'm working on a new adventure AU Fanfic called "The Weaving of Tales"! It's an exciting story which I'm pouring lifeblood into, so I hope its liked. It puts Discord as the BadGuy, but it has a happy ending, even for him.
It focuses on Twilight, but one day when she finds a mysterious book, her perfect world shatters, as an old prophecy, from before the beginning and founding of Equestria, is unearthed, and she must help Princess Celestia, who made a... deal with a certain someone in the past.
The prologue will be released on Thursday, so All an Illusion's Chapter 5 will only be released on Sunday. If you think I'm just a beginner writer tootin' my own horn, you're absolutely right, but just look at what I can write. Here's a sneak preview of the unfinished/unpolished prologue.

Each dainty hoof came down on the friable and cracked pavement with more force, causing the brittle material to shed in a flurry of grey flakes. The alabaster limb displaced the dust as she walked hurriedly, like the matted pink mane dragging behind her did. Her breath was hitched in her already tight throat, her breath coming in wheezes due to fear and the unaccustomed exertion. Brimming amethyst eyes, shining with tears and desperation that showed in her purposeful pace, her trot stumbling every so often like a mare who had galloped for thousands of miles.
She was like a mute ghost, gliding along the way in the expanse of grey that was the ruins towering her and shrouding her in shadows and secrets. She looked like a ghost too, her white coat turned a slight shade of grey from the dense amount of linty powder that would drift up and bite her coat with every stride she took, her pale hair nearly a shade of unkempt pink-grey from neglect and suffering from the same treatment her coat got.
She bit her lip, hard, drawing a crimson drop of blood that dripped to join the droplets of tears that splashed onto the asphalt of the brittle material that made the road. Tears stung as they paved a clean track down her cheeks through the dust. The mare ran on, her tangled and uncombed hair catching and twisting around twigs and leaves that clung to the ratty tendrils of pink.
She glanced around briefly at her rapidly shifting landscape, barely noting the claw of the cold breeze that wound through the two crumbling structures on her either side and dug down her spine, sending shudders along her back. She skidded around a tight street corner and promptly knocked into a dilapidated and mossy cobblestone wall, pieces of loose gravel and dislodged greenery tumbling to the pavement underhoof where they were pounded to dust underneath the mare’s moving and merciless hooves. The mare froze.
A glistening white and vaguely equine-shaped skull stared back at her, a side of the skeletal jaw jutting and cracked, a thin strip of ivory bone was bent horrifyingly, curled and almost shattered by a powerful claw’s grip, and then brutally decapitated in a single twist. The empty and gaping eye sockets, hollow and lacking of organic matter, scrutinised her intensely, judging her in a deathly silence. A broken and gnarled stump, the pitiful remains of what was once a horn, was crowned on the skull’s forehead. The damaged jaw swung, unhinged and gaping, in the slight wind from where the skull was hung for all to see. The message was as crystal clear as it would have been if the words ‘Keep Out’ were scrawled in scarlet. The mare knew her blood was red, just like the liquid life that ran through the veins of her equine siblings, despite the popular belief. Enough of it had spilled to prove that.
The ever-increasing tears that kept rising to her eyes froze as she stared into the blank and lifeless holes where a regular pony’s eyes should usually be. Bitter bile rose in the back of her throat…