Starlight sullenly chewed on a piece of hay bacon as she sat on the much-too-large bed in her much-too-empty bedroom and temporary prison. Her weary blue eyes stared daggers into the overturned tome resting at the foot of the magically sealed door only a short distance away—the only way into or out of the room she was currently trapped in.
Three days.
It had been three days since the filly was confined to hers and Twilight's room and been told to escape using runology to unseal the door. For three days Starlight had poured over that esoteric book. For three days she'd wracked her brain, searching through her existing knowledge of runic magic to no avail. She'd tried everything she already knew.
She'd tried every runic spell she'd learned with only overly taxed mana reserves and frustration to show for her efforts. She'd also failed to make any sense of the words inscribed within the tome. Without knowing Old Ponish, Starlight couldn't decipher the seemingly nonsensical syntax of the runic script she was reading. The unfamiliar arrangement of runic circles continued to stump her again and again until she'd had enough.
Eventually, she'd simply given up and hurled the tome at the door in a foalish fit of rage. To put it simply, she hadn't gotten anywhere with her meager font of knowledge. She needed to try something new, and so now had turned more of her attention toward the cryptic note that had come with the tome. It had said that she'd already known the answer, that the key was within the past and within Starlight herself.
"What does that even mean?" the filly grumbled to herself as she took another disgruntled bite out of her magically provided breakfast, "why does everypony around here have to be so cryptic all the time? If you know what I'm supposed to do, just tell me!"
With an aggravated huff, the filly finished off the rest of her breakfast and telekinetically dropped the empty plate and silverware onto the nightstand. It all promptly vanished with a pale green flash and a magical pop just the same as it had when it appeared. Her meal consumed, Starlight picked up the quill and one of the unused rolls of parchment she'd been provided upon demanding the other day.
She eyed the tome distastefully for a moment before magically snatching it up from where it sat and bringing it towards her as well. With both parchment and tome in hoof, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and reached back into her memories. She reached past her time in the Fortress, past her first meeting with Twilight. Her breath hitched as the memory of that night washed over her. A shiver ran down her spine and suddenly the filly had a feeling that she'd made some kind of terrible mistake.
Something in the air seemed to shift strangely. Starlight felt it, but the feeling was distant. The tome, quil, and parchment all fell from her physical and magical grip but she paid that no mind. She found she couldn't pull her mind away from the nightmarish memory. With her eyes closed and her mind preoccupied, Starlight took no notice of the radiant red glow emanating from her cutie mark. The filly tried desperately to push past the memory but it was as if the scene had her mind in a vice grip. It wouldn't let her go.
She sat there, her small frame shaking as she was forced yet again to watch her already tiny world crumble around her. Pride and happiness turned to horror and failure. Countless hours of preparation and a stalwart belief in her own skills, all washed away in an instant—reduced to a violent whirlwind of madness and bloodshed. Starlight let out a shuddering gasp as the emotions she'd been trying desperately to bury came crashing into her all at once. What had she been trying to do? Where had she gone wrong? Why couldn't she stop it?
It was only now as those questions filled her thoughts that Starlight realized she had worryingly few answers to give. What had she been trying to do? Thinking back, she found she couldn't actually remember. The realization sparked a flame of confusion that pushed through her horror and allowed her to ask more questions she hadn't thought to ask before. What kind of ritual was that and how had she not realized the outcome sooner? What had she been studying that whole time and where had she gotten the tome that taught her how to enact the ritual?
And there was more. From the outside looking in, the filly could see details she'd completely overlooked during the night of the ritual. She could see the excitement in her own expression as she etched a series of glowing red lines and runes she didn't recognize or understand into the wooden floorboard of her home. She could see how that eagerness failed to reach her eyes—how there was nothing there.
Starlight shivered.
What... what is this? Is that really me?
She turned away, instead focusing on her parents who stood to one side. There was concern there, but they didn't know anything about runology or rituals. They clearly had their reservations but the love and support for their daughter was plain to see—except it wasn't. Just like the Starlight who diligently worked to bring her own nightmare to fruition, there was an eerie hollowness in their gaze, like a light that had gone out. The sight shook the filly to her core.
What—
A rising fear that had little to do with the ritual itself began to overwhelm Starlight. Within her own mind, she tore her eyes from her parents and turned to her one and only friend, half expecting to see that same empty gaze. What she saw instead made her insides grow cold. Just beyond the ritual circle, black tome in hoof and bright blue eyes alive with anticipation and something else entirely, stood Sunburst. There was a playfulness in the colt's eyes, but it was wrong—full of callous disregard and brimming with ill-intent. It wasn't an expression Starlight had ever seen Sunburst make, but then again, was this really Sunburst?
And that tome.
Starlight remembered that tome. It was the last book Sunburst had given her before that night, a tome on advanced runology for experts or something to that regard. In her strange and sudden state of clarity, Starlight remembered that she'd actually delved into the study of runology at Sunburst's suggestion. She hadn't had any interest in the topic initially, but the colt had made it sound so fascinating at the time. He'd been the one to provide all those books on the subject, but Starlight never thought to question where he obtained them all, assuming they came from the Grey Fortress.
She never thought to question any of his behavior. She never questioned why he tried to hard to get her into runology. She never questioned how he and her parents met. She never questioned why they brought him to their house out in the middle of nowhere. She never questioned where he'd come from exactly or what his story was. To Starlight, he was a beacon of companionship in her dull and lonely life. In reality, and only now that she could see it in hindsight, she never really knew Sunburst.
But no, that's not true! Aeon told me... she told me about Sunburst. He was an orphan, right? He was innocent! It wasn't his fault! None of this was! He died! He died, and it was all my... I was the one who... who—
Pain lanced through Starlight's mind and body like a bolt of lightning, ripping her out of her vivid vision of the past. She fell backwards from where she sat, unable to control herself as she screamed and writhed and twitched in agony. Behind her eyes she could see images flash by one after another—words and symbols she could never have known or learned in the span of her young life. And then the visions came again. Starlight's mind became a violent kaleidoscope of scarlet light and death and screams and teeth and blood, the maddening sight set to the tune of twisted laughter.
All the while, those strange words and symbols continued to dance amidst the chaos of Starlight's inner world. After what felt like an eternity, all the agony wracking the filly's entire body began to spill into her glowing cutie mark like water down a drain. The soft red light enveloping the mark started to pulse steadily, growing brighter with each passing second until it shone like a lighthouse in the dark of night. Within that brilliant red light the image of a simplistic spell circle that was Starlight's cutie mark warped and twisted into something ancient and complex.
It could have been seconds or minutes or hours, Starlight didn't know, but eventually something cracked and gave way. Her cutie mark flared one more time, the crimson light blinding and the innate magic within pulsing like a heartbeat. Starlight gasped in shock as words and symbols and images coalesced and became knowledge. She groaned and whimpered in relief as the sharp, fiery agony coming from her slowly dimming cutie mark faded into a dull, throbbing ache. The pain remained, but it was bearable and lessening at a noticeable rate.
It wasn't the physical or magical pain that finally brought the tears spilling from the shaking filly's eyes—not just physical or magical anyway. Through some unassailable force she couldn't even begin to comprehend, Starlight had been forced to relive her worst nightmare. She didn't know why or what had triggered the visions of her past or the ensuing agony. At this point, she didn't even care to find out. She was content knowing it was all finally over, however long that nightmare had lasted.
Yes, the strange ordeal was over, but it was what that ordeal left behind that mattered. Whatever the trial may have been, she had passed it and gained both a gift and a curse. The gift of arcane knowledge had imprinted itself upon her mind, but with it came the curse of bitter truth. Starlight tried to put her thoughts back together as she lay upon the single bed in her nearly empty bedroom, but all she could do was whimper and sob. Try as she might to deny it, there was no running from the truth—not anymore.
"Sunburst... S-Sunburst..."
The words came out in a choked whisper. She repeated the name over and over again, trying and failing to make sense of what it all meant—of why it all happened, why it had to end this way. Some small part of the filly wanted to be relieved, knowing it wasn't entirely her fault. She'd been used and betrayed. She'd been a pawn in somepony else's scheme. She was the victim, not the culprit. What's more, the actual monster got what he deserved. He'd paid for his betrayal with his life.
But knowing all of that did nothing to staunch the guilt and pain. Had the price been paid with only Sunburst's life, maybe Starlight would have been satisfied, but it hadn't. She'd lost everything and had played at least some part in that tragedy. Neither the filly nor her parents had been in their right minds that night, but had Starlight been a bit more observant, had she not been blinded by the light of companionship in her life of solitude, then maybe she could have prevented it all.
But it hadn't turned out that way. She'd fallen for her 'friend's' schemes and had nothing to show for that 'friendship' except two dead parents and the brand of a sinner. Starlight sniffed, wiped her eyes, and glowered at the ceiling, her sorrow suddenly boiling into anger. She sat up and twisted her head around to glare down at her 'cutie mark'. What was once a simple spell circle denoting her talent for spell crafting had become something wholly other. The mark still took the shape of a spell circle, but the line work within the circle had become far more complex.
The only other major change she could see were the seven runes that now wrapped around the outside of the circle—the same type of runes as the ones in the tome. She'd struggled for days to find the meaning of those runes, banging her head against the wall both figuratively and sometimes literally in frustration... but now she understood. The process had taken its pound of flesh, but now she could read the runic script as clearly as any modern Ponish. She remembered the words and symbols, how they swirled about in her mind as she suffered.
She remembered how those seven runes tore themselves from the raging sea of symbols and buried themselves deep within the primordial essence of her soul. They were now as much a part of her as her own mana. With the arcane knowledge gifted to her, she understood the the runes and what they meant. The seven runes made up one word, a word as ancient as it was damning. A word that now forever etched into her very being. A word she could never escape from no matter how much she tried.
"Gedwola..."
Heretic.
Starlight wasn't sure about the religious connotations, but as the word slipped from her mouth, her thoughts turned to the vision she and Twilight shared back in the library when they first arrived. She remembered the eyes of her older self, remembered the callous madness in them. She couldn't help but feel a rightness in the word and that made her shudder. Still, while she couldn't fully comprehend how the process worked, she now understood that it had been a necessary step on the path to becoming a true Runic Mage.
As she continued to stare at the mark—the brand—Starlight finally began to get it. The key was within the past, within herself. The knowledge had been there all along—not in her mind, but in the magic. The magic had remembered and somehow the memory was the trigger. How that was the case was something she still had trouble figuring out—at least until her eyes fell upon the seal attached to the bedroom door.
She'd ruminated on that night countless times since coming to the Fortress, but the memory had never affected her in such a way as it did now. Now that she could see the indecipherable runic script for what it was, she knew it had been the cause. The seal hadn't just been a lock to keep her imprisoned in her own room. Whoever had created the seal had also written within it a secondary—or perhaps the primary—function. Woven into the seal was an enchantment that made sense to Starlight on a fundamental level, but the details of how it worked escaped her.
It was almost like Soul Magic, but felt somehow older—which was strange because Soul Magic was supposed to be one of the oldest forms of magic there was from what Starlight knew. The enchantment had been cast over the whole room, but Starlight wasn't sure if it would have affected Twilight the same way it did her if she was here. As far as the filly could tell, the enchantment remained dormant until triggered by a certain... something. Once triggered, the enchantment reached into the soul and did... something.
That was about all she could tell. She got the overall picture and could now probably unseal the door given a bit more time, but the composition and complexity of the seal itself was still leagues above her own skill. Even if she could read the script and unlock the door, she doubted she could recreate the seal in its entirety. Not without a few more years of practice anyway. Still, any happiness or satisfaction she would've gained from being able to finally leave her room was crushed under the weight of her fury and the guilt and sorrow she was trying to bury underneath.
No matter what she'd gained this day, the fact remained that she'd been imprisoned, tortured, betrayed, and lied to. She'd had to face truths she wasn't ready for, and it wasn't just Sunburst who'd taken advantage of her naivety. Once Starlight got out of her—and she would get out of here—she, the twins, and that lying, scheming whorse of a 'mentor' would have words.