It was safe to say the experiment was a failure. Her body was numb from ear to hoof, paralyzed where she stood. She could hear something dripping, so her ears worked. Her eyes were locked in place slightly upwards the opposite wall and ceiling. What was left of it anyway.
Of all the theorized results this wasn’t one she considered. Corruption was a decent concern. Ascension would have been favorable. Being blown through the opposite wall and ending up in intensive care was possible, yet perhaps better than this.
From her lack of a worm’s-eye view she could tell she was still standing. Her line of sight was angled towards a two meter hole in her workshop’s clay roof. The edges had a mixture of fire, frost, hardening, and crumbling like the force that created it didn’t know what element it was firing.
Why did that always happen when things went wrong?
What she first mistook for stars in the night sky were fragments of artificial Diamond floating perhaps an arm’s length away from her. If she could move at all she would have sighed. The formerly solid gem served as the core of the device perched on her head. To most it would easily be mistaken for the world's most boring silver tiara, but in reality it was supposed to be the answer to her life’s deepest obsession.
Well f-
Age 3
The dry grass crunched under her hooves as she raced along the border of yellowing fields and white sand, the ocean wind whipping past spread arms as she chased after two of her older cousins. Even at the age of three the small white foal could easily keep up.
She could feel the protective gaze of her parents from a distance as she flexed her shoulder blades, imagining with all her might sprouting wings and lifting up into the air. One more firm squeeze of her back and she felt a tingle. This was it. Today was the day.
She looked up and watched the two black colts racing towards a sudden drop where firm soil was banked by a steep slope of sand. Their backs seemed to catch fire, the left colt a cyan and the right crimson. The ghostly flame didn’t radiate heat but did surge outwards and upwards as it took form. Feathered wings emerged from the vague shapes already reaching high before firmly thrusting down. A single pace before the edge they lifted upwards and glided on the wind.
A distant shout could be heard but she ignored it. Her left hoof pressed down on the ledge and leg sprung with all the strength her little pudgy body could muster. For a wonderful handful of seconds she felt light as a feather before tumbling.
She rolled several times before finally coming to a stop along the beach. Her ears picked up a familiar sound of air imploding into a vacuum a few meters away. Her knees and arms were burning with scrapes and her body felt like one giant bruise. Despite the pain she didn’t cry. All her attention was on the water. Her cousins were teasing seagulls, dipping down above their heads to freak the poor birds out before sailing upwards.
“Arcane!”
Her mother literally popped into existence with a puff of air. She materialized in mid stride blocking Arcane’s view of her cousins. One more step and the raven haired mare fell onto her knees with hands reaching out to closely inspect her foal. Silver Quill had an eye for detail and didn’t miss a single scratch or bump with those sharp olive colored eyes. Her hand cupped Arcane’s head and tilted it one way then the next. She lifted her arms and tilted her little body to see if there was so much as a trace of blood or broken skin. All that time Arcane’s focus was on Silver Quill’s forehead. Her mother’s horn was still ‘out’. Like her cousin's wings her horn was a curved spire of silver light floating like ghost fire.
“Arc.. dear.”
A note of frustration was in that motherly tone. Goodness knows how many times Arcane heard mom’s warnings about trying to fly. Her eyes lowered in shame yet she wouldn’t cry. To her, crying would be making it real. Crying would make the fact she couldn’t fly like her father or cast spells like her mother something she had to accept.
Silver’s horn dimmed and vanished before she leaned down to touch foreheads with her daughter. She smiled and locked eyes. Nose to nose.
“Why do you want to fly anyway? You know I can’t fly either.”
“You can poof. That’s better.” Her voice was so small but it didn’t matter. Face to face like this meant even a whisper could be heard. Better yet, the rest of the world was blocked out by one of the only two things that calmed her little heart.
“Yeah, but I can’t run like you. One day you’ll even get a talent I could never have. Something that is special to you. I’m just a silly ol writer.”
Silver quill made her voice rise in pitch to sound like a fairy. It was silly and dumb but Arcane couldn’t resist the giggle that past her lips.
“I…” her words faded away knowing she was about to say something that might make mom sad. “.. don’t want to be like Grandpa Quill.”
“You mean you don’t want to be a Teran.” Silver smiled as gently as her voice sounded. “Arcane, you are so full of aspiration, and that is a wonderful thing. Just don’t let it turn into Envy.”
“Assberation…?”
Her mother laughed, “No, baby, aspiration. It means you desire to improve, learn, invent, always reaching a higher goal.
“Envy?”
“Well, It means you forgot how strong you already are.”