Chapter Two
Things are Cleared Up
That's my back story. Yes, I know, it's not that interesting, and I don't have much of an eloquent tongue, but I'm no storyteller, and, in my defense, there wasn't much of a story to tell up to that point.
Since then, I have sprouted up 'like a weed', as my aunts call it, taking for granted that I know what a weed is, even though, of course, I've never been outside, where I suspect it is. I'm pretty sure it's some sort of plant, and one that no one likes nonetheless, and that makes me all the more frustrated.
Anyway, I've learned a little since then; my dark coat makes it easy for me to blend in with shadows behind doors as my uncles and grandfathers talk about me and my coming about, and it all has to do with genetics.
I don't understand DNA structures or what goes on in the blood under my skin, nor do I know if they're actually even related to genetics, but I've pieced together enough to at least brush against understanding of why I am.
See, it turns out, I was not a chance being; I wasn't an accident, a slur of chemistry and genes that mutated or carried over more than the usual number of traits. I was planned, carefully calculated, for years; generation after generation crossing, mixing, letting certain ponies into their circle of trust, and even family. From what I've heard, if you can get the right combination of genes, the unborn foal will develop both wings and a horn- a feat both remarkable and simple.
This is one of the reasons it's a big deal my father died, even though no one speaks of it. This whole gene mess started with my who-knows-how-many-greats-grandfather, who, for whatever reason, decided he needed one of his descendants to be an alicorn. He began an advanced study of the chemistry of ponies' genes and, after years, had a diagram, a tree, the branches receeding down and down until there was the trunk at the bottom. At the base of the tree was an illustrated silhouette of a pony. That filly was me.
He chose for himself a trustworthy mare who had the suitable genes and took her as his wife. I don't know how he managed it, be he eventually gathered together other pairs, who's children would hopefully have the needed molecular structure in them to pass down more correct genes, and so on. Of course, once it got down to me, there were very few that could actually reproduce an alicorn at least somewhat consistently; in fact, the only two were my mother and father. I was, until my father died, dispensable; if anything happened to me, they could have a new alicorn in a year or so.
That all changed when my father died, of course. Years of careful breeding and matchmaking would be down the drain if I died, so of course I was kept indoors, away from prying eyes and danger.
It's funny, but I never did get especially angry at my plight. I hated my mother, and for no real reason now that I think about it, but I never once though of escaping until one night I heard my uncles talking over cigars and cards one night.
"...Nice Summer night, eh?" one of them had remarked as he look over his cards fanned out in his hooves.
"Sure is," remarked another. "I hear that the Moonflowers open up around now."
Another scratched behind his ear. "Heh, where'd ya' hear that? And, more importantly, why would ya' care about some frilly little flowers?"
The second stallion shrugged. "They ain't frilly, ya' know. They're blue and they glow. And anyway, I heard it from some o' the guys down in town. 'Parently, it's some o' the most specialized and bravest ponies who hafta get 'em. See, they only open at the night, and when they're not open, they recede into the ground."
"So what?" the first asks. "You just gotta take a flashlight and find 'em, no big deal."
"Maybe there wouldn't be," the second replies as he lays some cards on the table, "if they didn't grow only in the Everfree forest."
The other two paused for a second before shaking their heads.
"Foals, that's what they are." the third said scornfully. "Goin' into the Everfree forest at night. Who do they think they are, anyway?"
"Well, they are members of the Royal Guard-," the second began before being cut off by the stares of the other two. Apparently he had offended the other two, as he lay his ears back and blushed the slightest bit.
"Uh, I mean, not members of the Royal Guard. It's... somepony else." he finally finished lamely.
I stayed hidden on the other side of the doorway for some time after, but they played the rest of the game in silence, and hearing only the slipping and ruffling of cards being put in play didn't much appeal to me. In fact, after what I heard, nothing at all seemed to tickle my fancy; and, seeing how I should have been in bed now anyway, I couldn't find something that would attract attention to myself to do, so I wandered away down the hallway.
I perked my head up when I saw the drapes of one of the many windows billowing lightly; wondering what it was, I made my way over to it to find out.
That's funny, someone opened a window, I thought as I pushed the drapes out of my way to look outside. I don't know exactly what happened, but feeling the summer breeze, the first natural zephyr to ever ripple over my coat, made something in my heart stir. It was a longing to be outside, to be free. I could smell the aroma of flowers and trees and running water, and decided that I would sneak outside.