The difference in any day would be difficult to tell to one who lived a simple life. If the events of one day mirror the previous, it’s likely that this is the case for you. Could you be on the borderline of simple and exciting? Possibly. In the case, or life, if you will, of Twilight Sparkle, this is true. Every ounce of spare time around her house is spent reading. It doesn’t matter what, nor if she’s read it or not. Many books may be worn from constant use, or forgotten, and left to gather possibly inches of dust.
But there are some things that should have been left untouched. But you may ask, what could be so bad about a book that was once in a library available to all (at some point)? But the thing is, it wasn’t, and shouldn’t be there. In fact, the very existence of said book is truly a mistake in itself. But how could that be? Well, the threads of fate may yet slowly unravel, and for none other, than Twilight herself.
The neatly aligned books of Twilight’s home, or tree house, covered most of the wall space, as is natural, with it being a library. In any case, the re-aligning and re-shelving was an almost everyday task for her “assistant,” Spike, yet met with much resistance every time.
It was as this process occurred did the book make its presence known. And to much surprise it did, for in appearance, it was no different than any other old book on the shelves. Nothing on it made it stand out to any extent, it was simply a brown, leather(ish) bound book.
“You remember what to do, right?”
“Twilight, I do this every day. Go through every book in the library, make sure we have tabs for all of them, restack each and every one with the utmost precision, and then sweep. Honestly, when do you ever need any of this information? It seems pointless, doing it almost every day and all…”
“I know it’s not fun, but we always have to be prepared. I’ll tell you what, do it today, and you don’t have to again until next week? Does that sound fair?”
“Fine…”
“Good. I’ll be back at the same time.”
“Got it…”
Twilight walked outside to do whatever it is she did. Spike never thought to ask what it was, nor did he care. All he needed to do right now, was to complete the task at hand. Same tiresome, repetitive routine.
After doing this for so long, he learned the tricks of the trade when it came to stacking books. To begin with, he would just throw them off the shelves, and re-organize them later. Quickly, he found that this wasn’t that efficient. Now, he would take a few off the shelves at once, and put the left facing side of the book down first. Now, since twilight made him rotate shelves to make sure he actually did the work, he put the stack down at the next bookshelf. Then, he would take the books off the shelve parallel to the now empty shelf, and take them out from that one. Sounding fun yet?
In any case, it is a long process. He learned the name of about every book on these shelves by heart now, yet on occasion he finds a new book, usually a donation, or something overlooked in the past.
That’s when he sees it.
“Beginner’s guide to basic potion making and/ or alchemy, documented… Magical Brews and Recipes, documented… Don’t Forget Me, Colts and Fillies… Wait, what’s this?” He flipped through the it, to find that it was a children’s storybook, and a very old one. The caramel lined pages threatened to tear as he flipped each page, so Spike took caution as he read. “What would a storybook be doing in today’s potion shelf? Well, it isn’t documented, so…” He flipped to the title page, to find two curious things. It had no mentioned author, and its printing date. “1475? This dinosaur belongs in the Canterlot museum, not in here… Oh well, I’ll leave twilight to deal with it.”
He sat it down in the middle table in the room, and continued on with his work.
“Going, Going, Gone! A Brief history of water. Ha! What a classic…”
Hours later, Twilight appeared at the door, and didn’t bother to announce herself until after she walked in. She heard no response, and assumed that Spike was asleep, as he always was after a day’s work. She checked the shelves to make sure he had completed the task at hand, and was pleased to see that he did. Seeing as she had no work to do (did she ever, having Spike to do it first?), she took a book from one of the shelves, and walked towards the table in the middle of the room. She didn’t even look at the book that she took until she sat down, she didn’t even care. But something caught her eye before she could enjoy the book before her. Why did it grab her attention? She didn’t know. It was but a simple brown book. Yet, it had an “aura” to it, if you will.
But it felt out of place.
It had nothing on the spine- no title, no author, no date, nothing to identify itself. The front was hardly any different. All it said was, “Don’t Forget Me, Colts and Fillies,” in a faded, almost sinister black lettering. Just by opening the thing she could tell that it was old. But looking at the title page confirmed it.
“This is hardly a book that should be here…” She said to herself.
She flipped to the title page. Thin Man’s Lullaby, it said at the top.
The title alone sent chills down her spine. The verses were even worse.
Our days stay numbered as they go by,
Our faces stay shamed, because of our sins,
But we’ll always have a friend,
When we sing this lullaby.
Despite not ever hearing the song before, Twilight Sparkle immediately knew the tune of it, with the utmost precision.
We always stay in fear,
But we have hope,
For when our time arrives,
Our friend will be here.
The words seemed to have lifted from the pages, and sang themselves, in all its out of tune, off beat horror.
We have no will,
No burden of choice,
Because when he is here,
You will feel the chill.
The words alone had nothing to do with the horror of the situation she was in. But the book kept singing the same song over and over, and every time she tried to flip to a different page, it was the same words that kept taunting her.
After several minutes, the music stopped. She dared to try to open the book for one last time. It was the title page. Written at the top: Property of Twilight Sparkle.
The book had claimed its own master. If she had first thought that this book didn’t belong in her library, she sure as hell did now. There was no question- this book had to be destroyed. But as much dread as she had every time she looked at it, she couldn’t bring herself to throw it in the fire…
“No… it can’t be destroyed… maybe Celestia will know about this…”
This was but one of the million thoughts running through her head at the moment.
All that could be done now is sleep, and hope for the best.
With unblinking, fearful eyes, she cautiously crept up the stairs, and laid her head down on the bed.
She must have spent hours simply staring. At nothing in particular, just staring. She feared. She didn’t know what she feared, the feeling had consumed her, and was all she knew at the moment. And it was because of this unknown fear that caused her not to be able to look out of her window. It was simply the not knowing, and the potential shock that made it that way.
And if she had looked, her dread would have multiplied, as a certain figure stood, its head turned towards the window. Its intentions could not have been identified, as it was faceless, and its form itself was an enigma. It wasn’t equine- it wasn’t bipedal, it was, there, and nothing more.