//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3 
// Story: Sheets of magic 
// by hector dabullio 
//------------------------------//

Amberglass fell through purple lights and sheets of magic, till she met with something in the endless skies of this new land, she had fallen down a funnel, and through the organs of the earth, and now she set herself back up on her own two hooves after making an impact on the ground of the potions masters laboratory of the golden zebra above the sun, symbolizing a new dawn, who concocted experiments in magic, and was the creator of this world, just like many others. In this land, which indeed included her land, all the worlds were built on a tree, which required great magic prowess, this tree was long and twisty, and bended in a million different ways and in directions that didn't seem to make sense or follow the mathematical rules of all known logic, that is magic for you, in its essence, it is what we call, the insane. We try to make sense of the insane by giving it silly names and saying, well, it's just magic, and like that everyone becomes convinced that they understand the laws of the universe, but because there are no true universal laws in a world and tree where absolute physics for really anything is just a guideline, it opens up a lot of strange possibilities. There are varying ways to access this magic from area to area, and in this area, that included the powers of wishes.


She lived in the elderroot, at the top of a city over the dark side of the sun, built up out of the very energies of decay and that which fell apart, it takes all of their essences and makes a constantly falling and reforming world like that out of a sculpture of earwax should if it was placed on the sun, and at the center, like a smaller star, or a smaller world, is a little blue horizon, a watery nova, a plasmid of power and wishes, that helps funnel and grant the wishes of this world, Equestria, into a usable and efficient form of energy to be used by many all around, from near and far as could be in their little world shell. At the top of the elder root, Amberglass watches out the sides, see through like glass, but wood in complexion, like a giant beet, large as a skyscraper, or a mansion, and out the side of these buildings, this is what she saw. She saw large ships that flew in the air from large gusts of wind that blow at unimaginably high speeds, endlessly tumbling with energy, camera ray eyes in a crystal guise and wings that spark a flitter, that streak in darkness like glitter in a sunlight so silver that it brings awe to the tips of the eyes, and waves of energy visible as they escalate, right at the edges of the world shell, like an aurora borealis, from the vibrations of energy running off the leakage of the inner world of this geocentric system, Equiss. This ambient escalating energy, it looks definitely alive, and moves in chaos and organized synchronicity, all at the same time as one, and the light of the sun only brightens up their appearance to more miraculously show how beautiful it really is to the eye, with every detail open to introspection, as short as that period may be, for every detail flits away and breaks down into something new like smoke, wispy and ethereal, or perhaps a time lapse of ice breaking up and reforming.


There were golem ponies, large and proud they were, as they carried the endless bulbs of blue energy off of the center world to resupply it to all centers and nodes around it, where the high rising race of protectors ruled, they were a generous race, who lost their cause, and so they made Equestria, in a show of faith. The angulations of the gullets of the earth spiraling upwards and spread ever onto the arches of the roots throughout, inside and outside, nearly invisible to all the eyes, they were, the blue roots, ethereal in nature, amazing in scope, they spread the energy of the soul fire and solar flame, which came to its destination, spinning the bone turbines of the water nova plantoid in the center of the entire city. She stood behind the ethereal pillar, and from their place they could see, this great zebra was as high as a giraffe, and as strange as a beast of discords reign, with a hundred legs, like a centipede, and as long as could be, she was heavily at work modifying gems with magic, the magic gems of the cutie marks, that make and create a full predestined amount of magic to fulfill the purposes of one's entire destiny, to become completely intertwined as another piece of their soul, the zebra was like the seasons, one face melting into a million, old and bitter, and newborn and happy, like a caterpillar the zebra was free from herself, and locked in her own prison as well, and her armour, it showed moving, living constellations, projections of the world around her, little stars on its surface, and in her forehead could be seen the eclipse, that one cannot look at with the eyes for too long, but this is no ordinary eclipses, because one may not look at it with certain intents. This Zebra, she instantly noticed that she was there, with her sensing organs inside her body, and her tongue came out like a snakes as she sniffed with it, tiny holes in the back of it collecting aroma, with an eye that sees souls and the sight of all that is around her granted from the movements of the chaotic particles, which to her is as predictable as any other ordinary events, she could see the air swirling away from her, hitting a pony shaped barrier, and she immediately stopped her work. When she looked at her soul, she was revolted at what she found, that one could ever have a soul that was so dark, and as she called through the funnel of the ear plants that lead down below to all of the many guards and other ponies, Amberglass could hear the footsteps and assorted sounds coming down on the marble staircase from their many strange limbs, and strange beings as befitting of a freaky family of the gods who live atop the sun.


"Her soul is darker than the eclipses in my eye, unfurling the plots from the sad hearted minds, of the sick and uneasy, and who completely disregard, yes, she is not like any I've seen, her heart has no place in this world of our own. Even Sombras own, is not quite so dark in it's depths, never have they gone so far into an eternity bereft, there is supposed to be something, intrinsic inside of them, that they are unable to break or bend of themselves, but here we are, looking at this strange filly, of unknown powers in my vicinity, and by the factories of the cutie marks no less, do we need more of an answer, anymore, any less?"


and another answered.


"I think she has plans, great plans for this place, but not of an evil intent, or anything so base, I can see this, and I can know, I am more than a seer of her soul could show, sure it is dark, but it is dark with what, as it is something that is emplaced and imposed on her, then it is not of her own soul, but rather her abilities, and her luck, it is her destiny, but not her mind, that is blacker than most blacks, but in the destiny that I see, that goes against her own destiny, we can help her, so that she can be free, from unintentionally being forced into committing any atrocities. They control her, the worms of her soul that bind in their spells, from beyond her small knoll, from the ways of her home, they tried to infect, and when they failed first, they tried it another way, but I can tell you, it never really worked, not the way they wanted it too, because they knew her original destiny, and they hated it, but now that she is in our hands, it is for us to take the reins, and steer this destiny back on track, for no amounts of forced control, no matter how hard they try, can destroy the original intent of the destiny, inscribed as words on the dark stones in the graveyards of eternities."


 And so this other entity lifted its hoof to her, a windigo in a ponies frame and directly to her it said.


"You don't have to be what you think you are, like I don't have to be what I am, and we can both take control of the original destinies in this land, and find yours again. It may be broken as the way it was, but that just means there is something new."


And she accepted the hoof, and was lifted to her haunches, studying the faces in the crowd around her, and looking at the many strange forms and shapes they had. The windigo of death's light was the one who had lifted her up, well respected as a good ruler, and one who lets death come at their own time, later in life, when they should, he never cheated anybody out of anything but immortality, and that's something they could never afford anyway. It was frequently a joke that the only reason he was a wendigo was because someone at the interdimensional patients office saw the description of death and wanted to try and make him look like the most horrible thing possible.


"What did you see in her destiny, and why is her soul so black, that could be explained away as a pestilence not her own"
"She was one of the most important ponies of our time, but she was captured and kept away from this original destiny by the unholy one, but I always knew she would come back, the events inscribed were just too important to be forgotten"


She peers down at you.


"I hadn't believed that before, because she has a gods head, but now I see it could be true, but couldn't this be a trap, that a soul this black would brew, from unholy fire, she must have learned something when she was there, and weather or not the mind control effects would work, in a place so dark, to learn from your surroundings would be to be a practitioner of the dark arts, any little thing she does to us that would seem immoral, would seem to be the normal course that any normal day should take, nurture is the greater valor of the soul, after all, that takes over after a change that can renovate the mind, or destroy the soul, both in equal orders, with out mind control magic, intertwined to each other, can still be controlled. And what of all of her destiny that is broken, what course shall it take, if anything at all, darkness it will take, even if we can expect her to fulfill her original destiny, we cannot expect that that will be the end of the story, what if she does something as bad, or worse, then she does good?"


"In this speculation, there is a guide, that lights us to the path sublime, the central feuges showed us a light."


"That is not to be trusted, they are in turmoil!"


"I think for this I shall."


A buzzing grew in the world around her, like a million flitting flies in her ears, it was the loudest sound she had ever heard, it was obscenely loud, like the big bang of creation, there was a pulsing in her ears, a voice in her head, but she could not hear it, there was a pain in her chest, like a growing orb. The Zebra had been looking at you with her eclipse mind stone, and this stone saw all that you were, it looked inside of you, and with the help of the other gods peered deeply into who you are, with what was mostly a guess by the central feuges, and the wish of the windigo of light, they peered down into you, and devised who you are now, and by finding out who you are now, they knew that the prophecy could work.


She woke up, beneath the stars that used to be near, in the shades of the grass, that were gently drifting, with a great, flooding cataract and a ravine on either side of her, atop a flat, stone, circular, pillar of the earth, that extended as high as a great red wood tree, and she could see, from up here, the world for many a mile, by just the strength of her eyes. The totem had a million faces, faces that were those of those same gods above, the birds of the interstellar phases had brought down from the stars her body, and set it upon the totem, the totem that, with its magical power, had the glowing eyes of industrial fireflies, and collected the energies of all of the ley lines, it was a great amount and quantity of power towards this single purpose, and it was well refined. There is many an artifact by these godly peoples that is just considered a normal item, because their magic doesn't follow the rules of normal magic, and, indeed, in many ways, their meaning of magic does not follow the equestrian meaning of magic at all, for one, there is no true dark or light magics, as yin and yang are both just ways of being, and your feeling of things don't provide into it at all either, this great endless energy of the ethereal spheres, of the world tree and its magnificence, they work towards many powers, and they all are a branch that can usually only be understood only instinctively, rather then intellectually, mostly because the required abilities means one needs an understanding of what is, in the hindsight of not being their practitioners, a bunch of nonsense that makes no real meaningful sense in retrospect, all being rules that both make it overly complicated, and in no way follow a meaningful pattern that has an internal logic reliant on illogical thinking, in other words, the world is alive, and is medically and officially insane, and you become a practitioner of magic by buttering up to it in one way or another, and it grants you the power to commit and create miracles, and they indeed are miracles, because they cannot be tested or studied in a lab, because they don't actually follow any rules whatsoever, at least you would think that if you were in your sane mind, which, by practicing and understanding magic, you are not, at least not for their kind of unscientific, broken logic magic.

In this world, the ilk of scientific magic run wild and free, no broken magics to be, they have a hand in some unscientific emotional energies, but for the most part it is logical, they may have a little backwards logic in what is strange, because they control everything, but it is best to think of them as all city folk, whether or not they have been to a city in their lives, for instance, the everfree forest, in many ways normal, has a minimal amount of scary magical creatures that are truly bizarre, what they really think is the strange thing about it, however, is that it governs itselves, not by any other hooves, so they think that having a clockwork world is normal, quite paramount and opposite then the ways of nearly anything else, with the chaotic ways that pretend to follow an overarching order, but where really, nothing has any reason for ever happening. Equestria is a little stale in this way, being a clockwork machine, it is not a chaotic furnace of hell or a devious pit of strangeness, for all that it is, its clockwork reduces it to base and simple rules that can well be understood, much as science could, and it's magic is more of a science then a magic at all, and induces no sort of insanity in its splitting of ways of thinking from one way or another, in the access of knowledge in these ways, they are quite different than any other branches that are purely magical, because no space worms crawl in their head and change their thoughts to more fit to the formality of chaos that seems like a chaotic logic, but is really a condensation of nonsense that parades as logic in a land of conspiracy theories in your head.


She was in the land of zebras, far from her home indeed, of darkness and evil, what once was abundant in the yin of blackness is now abundant in the yang of light, and she is the odd one out in another way then being bright with a darkly filled soul, but being dark compared to those who are already bright, who don't understand a kind of overwhelming feeling that overreaches and controls ones being. Though her soul is filled with a blackness she is filled in her actions with light. the flowers were singing, the land was alive, but it was a song only she could hear, as much as the flowers of Equis could talk, they could not be heard, because this was a chaotic magic, as much as these things could be seen, and felt, and known, she was the only one that could feel them of the pony kind. The grass ruffled under her hooves as she ran, out past the totem pole she flew, and the totem pole seemed that it never existed in the first place. The totem pole was an ethereal chain of living events, and a star bridge, made of the flower song of the spheres, and as it was, it was a connection between outer chaos, and inner harmony that brought her here, in a mode of diffusion from one state to another, and the farther out she got from the star bridge, the less the land singed, and the more quiet and mundane the flowers became, just pretty, unthinking specks on the landscape, unlike their sentient brothers by the pillars of chaos and creation, holding up the diffusion domes that keep their world safe and tidy for all, something to be cherished, and loved beyond anything else for all that it has brought them and saved them from that wished to vanquish order from beyond their own order, beyond the branch of the splitting wooden sides of the immortal tree of infinity, that spirals and bends in ways unknown to any mind that thinks in any rationality except all forms of thinking together in one head, a split thought and emotion that goes a million ways towards the way of thinking and knowing what is there in the world.


She took in the scent of the flowers that were all around her, a thousand aromas, one of the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, it felt so alive, alive in a way unlike her homeland, sure, her homeland had a more rustic appeal, and the ghosts of the land tried in their bests efforts to make it appear wonderful in every way, but still, it never was alive, and the atmosphere itself, all dull and dead purples, and the bad energies that infected her head, for all that was there, it may as well have felt like nothing at all at times, as the worms in her head plugged her thoughts and made her ill with alien badness, but she was always able to fend them off, and the junkyard loved her for that. The junkyard loved her for what she could do despite everything around her, but there were too many bad feelings that tried to overlay that beauty of her own home, of the current currents and the past currents trying to fight each other, and the currents of the sadness winning over the pasts that decided to only value the light of the happiness that the currents of future days would not avail, and to provide a seeking and guiding light to those that they could in the currents of the deplorable present in the lands of the junkyard, a land deed a thousand times over. In a world such as this, without a constant ongoing war in every speck of dust in the atmosphere giving one constant vertigo, with that fight of good and evil to such insane proportions, everything felt...muted, but in a good way, it felt comfortable, like a warm bed, that nothing else could compare to, the comfiest and warmest bed that she had ever known, no bed could compare to the immaculate feeling of warmth that was finally creeping up on her after all these years, a warmth that she did not know existed, she just basked in the quietness, and rolled in the flowers for a good couple of hours, and had no thoughts of her family or her home, because as they were, even her parents were wretched and cold, if she was gone, they wouldn't really mind, but she would miss them, and she knowed that they tried, she wondered, perhaps if she brought them with her, and the worms in their brains were removed, they could finally learn to have normal empathy, and not that faked gait to try to be normal, and that identity crisis where one does not know if they are alive, or a monster.