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// The Trial 
// Story: The Mind Enchanted 
// by the7Saviors 
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My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I currently stand accused of a crime I may or may not have committed. I'd like to say I did nothing wrong, but for reasons that will soon become evident, I can't be entirely sure that I have a leg to stand on.

As sad as it is to say—and due to certain unusual circumstances—I may very well have committed the heinous crime for which I am currently standing accused. What is that crime you may ask? Well, I wish I could tell you, I really do. The problem is that, due to those unusual circumstances I mentioned previously, I can never seem to remember.

Even when I'm told directly of what I'd done the words seem to slip away from me like water through a sieve—going in one ear and out the other without ever having reached my brain. One thing I do know for certain is that this crime, whatever it may have been, was atrocious enough that my friends and family, horrified and saddened though they are, have abandoned me to my grim fate, whatever that may be.

This awful deed, this abominable act, this apparent tragedy evidently brought about by my own hooves was known to everypony except me. The culprit alone remains lost in the dark, quite literally unable to remember what it is they've done. I'm scared, naturally—confused and distraught by my situation and the accusations forced upon me.

I'm scared of what I might've done to deserve such scorn from the jury. Equestria wasn't a perfect place, but to me, it had always been for the most part a symbol of love and tolerance. It was and is a country that thrives under the tenets of harmony and respect for your fellow equine. Bound in chains and quaking under the weight of countless judging eyes, I could only ask myself how.

In a world where love and tolerance reigned supreme, how was disdain this potent allowed to exist? What had I done to incur this kind of animosity? What had caused those I love and respect to turn away from me with such sadness and betrayal in their eyes? These questions and more fill my mind as I testify on the stand, but the answers continue to elude me. 

Up until roughly a week ago, I'd been a star student, the treasured protègè of none other than Princess Celestia herself. I'd been living on and off within the castle as my thaumic studies and the Princess dictated, seeing new things, meeting new ponies almost every day. I had a loving family and friends who I'd been able to make little time for, but still cared for me and my wellbeing.

It was a life that was too good for me, it was a life many could only dream of, and—while not without its imperfections—it was a life I cherished greatly.  

But then one day, for no reason I could fathom, I started to hear things.

Strange incomprehensible words that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. It began as a soft sort of whisper—an incoherent but oddly bewitching sound that tickled my mind. Before I could even begin to unravel what it meant or even ponder if I'd gone insane that whisper grew into a commanding presence, dominating my life in a matter of days.

It told me things, things I couldn't understand, things I didn't want to hear. I tried to drive it out, tried to root out its origins, but I gained no ground. Ultimately the voice terrified me to the point that I gave up trying to understand and tried to ignore it altogether instead. For a time it seemed to work, and the voice faded away, only to be replaced by the blackouts soon after. 

They were infrequent but unmistakable, often leaving me floundering for an explanation as to where I was and what I'd been doing just then. The locations had no rhyme or reason and there was nothing to indicate the activity that had taken place. It was clear to me that something, some unnatural force, had crawled its way into my head and was compelling me to do things against my will, rendering me unaware of its deeds in the process.

Unfortunately, that fact hadn't been clear to me until it was too late. The worst part of it all to me was having to answer questions, questions to which I had no viable answer to give. They found me then as I'd found myself multiple times before—wandering the halls of Canterlot Castle, dazed and confused and alone. There was no visible sign that I'd done anything wrong but I was apprehended and detained like some rabid animal nonetheless. 

There were no explanations to be had, only rough treatment and unanswered questions. I was left with an unshakable fear of the unknown and the horror of knowing my mind and body were no longer completely under my own control. These blackouts are the reason I cannot in confidence say that I did not commit any sort of crime. What's more, the voice has returned and it's only now, here in this courtroom that I'm able to comprehend its words.

Bafflingly and terrifyingly enough, it is my own voice that I hear in my mind. It's my voice but the words are not my own. It tells me that I've sinned and yet refuses to tell what kind of sin I've committed—hides it from me with cruel and malicious glee. I am at its mercy and it leaves me to suffer these horrible accusations, unable to defend myself try as I might.

At the recommendation of the lawyer given to me by the court, and feeling like I have no other choice, I plead insanity. Perhaps taking some small amount of pity on me, the judge—at the behest of none other than Princess Celestia herself—sentences me to an extended stay in a psychiatric facility. There I'm to undertake several treatments until such time as I'm deemed fit to return to society.

When stacked against the fate of banishment, petrification, and imprisonment within the depths of Tartarus, treatment in an infirmary come as a welcome—if somewhat small—relief. I think to myself that I might be able to get the help I need. Perhaps the doctors can uncover what I could not and if all went well, then maybe I could take back the life that was so unfairly torn from me.

As the trial draws to a close and I'm carried away to serve my sentence, the voice in my head laughs mockingly and tells me that all my hopes are in vain.