The gaunt, cream-color mare mare walked through the hidden hallways deep beneath Celestia’s School for Special Foals, her head held high, her blood colored mane and tail well kempt in a conservative style. These halls and vaults held the artifacts that were the secret of her power and her success. She had been born into a lesser noble house, rich in titles and little else. She had bore her only, illegitimate, offspring at a young age, the product of an illicit liaison with an older married stallion of a wealthy, if disreputable house. Her family had married her quickly to a widowed earth-pony landholder to conceal the scandal.
The bean-farming stallion had been worse than useless, unable to uphold even a shadow of the splendor of Canterlot, and bankrupting himself in the attempt. His son had proven an even greater failure than the Father, in every way inferior to her own colt. In the end he had allowed himself to be swindled by a passing magic vender. In the end this proved to be her greatest opportunity. The “magic beans” had proven capable, in the son’s hooves of opening a passage into the sky to a “Sky Kingdom”. When the idiot returned he brought her the source of her current wealth: a goose that laid eggs of pure gold. Jack Nimblehooves rantings of course seemed like madness, and after his father’s untimely death she was seen as the kindest of stepmothers, using her newfound wealth to build a special school, not just for him of course, but for all foals beset by delerium.
The school had allowed her to find others; foals who had visited other worlds, or even who had come from other worlds themselves. She paused by an oil-lamp sitting on n ornate pedestal. It had been brought to her by a Saddle Arabian family whose daughter had become smitten by a street beggar. The little urchin had presented the filly with a variety of precious jewels. Obviously they were stolen, but the wayward colt swore they had been procured by the servant of the lamp. It had taken many months to break the poor colt of his delusions, but Scarlet Hearts had broken him. In time he was transferred to a more conventional orphanage. The lamp itself had long since ceased to be useful, but it had served it’s purpose well.
She passed a more recent acquisition; a pair of silver horseshoes, the former property of a poor deluded filly who told impossible tales of lions and tin-stallions and and talking scarecrows. She also shared the common delusion that she had been a “human”. The appearance of humans had become a nuisance of late. But not an insurmountable one. After all these poor foals were ponies now, and that was the important thing, to help them to adapt to their current situation moving forward. They were ponies in Equestria. It was better that they adapt and move forward, and not dwell on former forms and other, unreachable worlds. Better for the little ones of course.
Finally she came to the artifact she sought. By comparison it was a simple, common-place thing, a special journal always produced in pairs. It’s usual use was for simple communication. Anything written in one journal would appear in the other, no matter the distance between them. This particular volume’s sister copy was a gift to a very special, very dangerous little filly. It was a safe place where she could record her most private thoughts, safe from prying eyes. And indeed, the school staff would never dream of reading her diary. There was no need after all. There were no secrets in Celestia’s school for special foals. Not from Scarlet Hearts. The malnourished mare smiled cruelly as she turned the pages, her face quickly turning to a scowl.
“Alice,” the mare clucked her tongue, “sweet Alice… you’ve been a naughty filly. You’ve been warned many times, little one. See no evil. Hear no evil. And never tell.”