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// Memory Imprints and How they Work 
// Story: The Truth of the Alicorn 
// by ThunderChaserCreate 
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January 1st, 1011

Well, here I am. The first day of a new year. My parents told me that today would be the day I learned about their 'surprise.' They told me they had enrolled me in something. Something they thought would put our names in the history books forever...

I went on to read about several ponies of whom I had no recollection, and was about to look them up when I remembered, this is a diary. Everypony in it isn't going to show up in the history books.
I was in the middle of a lengthy description of a colt named Ink Blot when the room got... fuzzy, and then it got fuzzier. I was squinting to read the parchment right in front of me when all of a sudden--
I was fine. I was alive, and I could read again. But the parchment looked new. I jumped up and walked out of the room, past a mirror, and saw a face that wasn't mine. It was yellow and round, with big shining eyes and a curl of crimson hair falling around a tiny horn.
Jarred, I cut off my magic and -boom!- Was back in the palace.
"ohhhh..." I murmured in understanding, "a memory imprint." I told nopony in particular.
For those ponies who don't study magic, a memory imprint is a way of locking your memories into an object. These diary pages didn't just tell you what happened, they showed you what happened. But, the trick was that the pony who recorded those memories could choose who would view them. Not to mention, it was a very advanced spell. How could a filly as young as that perform a spell of this caliber? Also, a young pony like her would probably lock it to everypony, excluding herself. Then... how did she know that I would need to read this some day? I didn't even know.
Just as I was about to chase down the Princess to ask about it, I remembered the advice of Cadence: 'Just breathe, continue, and the answer will become clear.'
Trying to keep this in mind, even though I was ready to run screaming from the the tower, the palace, and the city itself. I picked up the page, closed my eyes, and became--
"Rain Song!" chirped a particularly sweet-sounding voice.
"I'm coming, mummy," I replied, against my will. This would take some getting used to.
I took some tiny, skittering steps out of the small room I was in, and turned into a second room. It was a bit larger, but, other than that, they were very much the same: small, drafty, no windows, one door. I could tell from the shape of the building that these were the only two rooms it contained. Sitting on a small mat were two ponies: one was a unicorn, the other an earth pony. The unicorn was a lovely mare, but her mane was matted and greasy. I could tell that, if it was clean, it would be a very delicate blue, but in this condition it looked more like a dark brownish-green. Her cutie mark, though also covered with grime, was the image of a snowflake. The earth pony was a strong-looking stallion, whose mane and tail were in even worse condition. His gorgeous orange hair was a sickly gray, and his white coat was flecked with brown, grey, and bloody red patches where wounds were healing. His cutie mark was a flame. I knew that, even though I couldn't see it. Did I have her knowledge, too?
Well, let's see. My name is--
"Rainy, sweetheart, we have somewhere to take you," the mare interrupted my thoughts.
"Really?!" the filly's smile grew, though she already knew, "When can we go?"
"You're going right now. But we're not allowed to come," her father explained, "you'll have to go by yourself.” He looked upset, like he didn't know exactly what would happen when she reached her destination.
The filly's face fell, "But... why? Why can't you come? Why?" she demanded.
"It was part of 'The Professor's' agreement. No parents, only the fillies. I'm sorry, Rainy, there's nothing we can do. You'll be helping the family!" Father said hopefully, "she said five bits a day. We called a chariot. It'll arrive soon."
As if on cue, the rattling sound of wheels clattered up to the front door. My legs shook slightly, and I ran back into my room, quickly gathering a few items to take with me. I hurriedly tossed my diary, my sweater, and my scarf into my bag, which I then tied around my waist.
I took the wobbly steps to the carriage, hauling myself into the back and whispering, "I'm ready." into the puller's ear. His hooves clopped along at a steady gait, and I frantically stuck my head out of the window, waving down my parents,
"WHERE AM I GOING, ANYWAY?" I yelled to them. My mother called something out, but I guess I'll never know what she said. At that point, all I could do was turn around, sit in the over-stuffed leather seat, and wonder where I was going. But, despite all the questions, only one thought swam through my head:
I never got to say goodbye