A Note About the Timeline:
This story begins before Twilight becomes an Alicorn and goes through Season 3. It will NOT take account for anything that happens in Season 4.
As this story will be taking place before and during first three seasons of MLP:FIM you may see familiar situations shown through the tinted glass of this tale even though this is an alternate universe.
Enjoy.
***
The words flowed across my tongue and off my lips smoothly. They felt right, they felt... correct.
I felt the familiar thrum of magic vibrate throughout my body, a wondrous feeling, a beautiful feeling. It started as a warmth, then a tingle, then a flood of sensation... different feelings based upon the essence of the magic.
The pulsating, purple shimmer surrounded my horn, illuminating the different glyphs and geometric patterns I had painstakingly drawn out over the course of the last few hours.
In my past I had endeavored to force my magic, to bend it to my will for my own needs, but now it came effortlessly. Softly, gently, the magic lifted me up from the floor. When I began the spell I had closed my eyes to avoid distraction, but as my hooves were lifted up I opened them to watch my ascent.
A faint haze encompassed my vision, but rather than clouding the objects around me everything was sharpened, brightened. I could see the aura of each object glowing faintly, seeing the ordinarily imperceptible ley lines that connected everything.
I continued to chant, taking in the aromatic scents of the fragrant herbs and incense that filled the lobby of my library. I felt the light tickle of supernatural currents dancing through the air around me, tossing my mane this way and that.
I raised my forelegs forward, leaned my head backwards for the final words of power. I filled my lungs with air to expel that last, essential command…
...and something went horribly, horribly wrong.
* * *
As a filly, I always wanted the attention of my parents... granted, most fillies and colts want attention from their parents. So young, we do not see their imperfections, their limitations. All we see are the great, beautiful idols of our lives - the ones who provide for us, who comfort us, who feed and clothe us. We see the mighty mares and stallions who easily defeat the hideous monsters in the closet and uproot boogymares from their den under our beds.
As a filly, I did not simply love my parents... I adored them. My mother was slender and elegant. My father was lean and intense. And they were wonderful parents.They doted on my brother and I incessantly. They gave us all the love and support we could ask for.
What we never seemed to receive was their time.
Both were very powerful unicorns, considered some of the leading authorities on magic in the modern era. There were many days Shining Armor and I didn't even get to see our parents. They were out at some conference or convention, rubbing elbows with some of the most important ponies in Equestria.
Shining Armor and I understood that their work was important. In fact, it was their lack of attention was what allowed us to grow so close. He would take care of me while they were gone, and in return I did everything to be the best sister I could. This dependence was what made him my BBBFF. It never occurred to me to act out, but perhaps this is one of the reasons why I eventually carried one of the Elements of Harmony.
This didn't mean that our relationship was perfect. When our parents were home, we competed fiercely for their attention.
The day it started was the only day in my living memory that Shining Armor was ever cruel. But as they say, once is all it takes.
Shining Armor had recently earned his cutie mark, and my parents were lavishing him in affection and praise. On the surface I understood. Everypony only ever got their cutie mark once.
Subconsciously, I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with me. Didn't I at least deserve a little attention? Wasn't I... still their daughter?
So I developed the best plan I could come up with as a filly to get my parents attention - I drew them a picture. It was a picture of all four of us, and in it I made sure Shining Armor had his cutie mark - so it wouldn’t seem as though I was doing it only for attention, you see.
I took it to my parents while Shining Armor had run off for a few minutes for a reason I had yet comprehend. They beamed at me, said that I was such a creative little girl and hung the picture up on the wall. They both gave me a great big hug and kissed me on the head. I laughed happily and hugged them back.
That was when Shining Armor walked out from his room. He was dressed in a fancy, blue uniform that was a little too big for him. My parents attention turned back to him, discussing the need to get it tailored.
I kept trying to worm my way back into their attention, asking them all sorts of questions. As they would patiently answer, Shining Armor would make a comment about something he was going to need or another adjustment he realized his uniform needed, drawing their attention back to him. I knew he was purposefully directing their attention to himself as he knew I was trying to divert it to me. What was different that day was that he had the advantage.
I tried not to let my tears overcome me, but Shining Armor knew me too well for that - even if my parents didn't. Normally, he would use this knowledge in order to comfort me before my sadness overwhelmed me. That day, however, he turned on me.
My parents had left the room, deep in discussion, when he whirled and approached me. With every stomp of his hooves I felt reverberations through the floor. He stopped mere inches from my face, towering over me, casting a shadow that seemed to extend forever. At that time he was nearly three times my size, and he used every bit of it to his advantage. Don't think I don't know what you're up to, Twily!
But Brother! They're my parents too! I need them just as much as you do!
I hope I never see the expression that flashed across his face in that instant ever again. I know what he said, he said in a moment of weakness, but it still cut deeply into my young heart.
Maybe they would love you if you weren't the only unicorn in existence that couldn't use magic!
He knew my greatest insecurity, my greatest fear, and he used it against me. As I ran out of the room I had no idea that it was common for unicorns my age to not have control of their magic. As I flung my door closed and threw myself on my bed in a cascade of tears I didn't understand that sometimes the unicorns with the most trouble actually contained a latent power more powerful than the rest.
I had confided in him that I was terrified at my inability to use magic, that I was worried our parents would stop loving me when they found out I was no better than an Earth Pony. Normally he would tell me not to be silly, that I would eventually learn to use my magic, and that our parents would love us no matter what.
But not that day.
I cried for what seemed like ages and refused to let anyone enter my room. Even when Shining Armor knocked on my door, I can only assume to apologize, I wouldn't let him in.
That night I was unable to sleep. I had to fix myself, and I had to fix myself now. At least, that is what I told myself. If only I had realized there had been nothing to fix.
That was when I decided to do what I was best at: study.
I snuck down the stairs after everypony had gone to sleep and slipped into my father's study. In that room was every book father owned about magical theory; illusion, divination, thaumaturgy, destruction... he had them all. With one little lit candle on daddy's desk I pulled down as many books as I could reach and read as much as my youthful mind could understand.
But still, no matter how much I read, deduced, memorized, or theorized, I still could not produce a single spell.
The clock chimed three a.m., and my eyes were threatening to close. Every passing moment was an invitation to enter sleep's embrace. I sighed, preparing the arduous task of putting the books back on the shelf. Funny, how they were so easy to get down, but harder to put away on a shelf twice my size.
As I turned my head, I noticed a small cupboard out of the corner of my vision. Innocuous and unassuming, but something about it called to me. I could not explain it then, nor can I now, but I somehow felt that if I could reach whatever object was inside that cupboard I would gain the ability to use magic, then and there.
I slinked over to it, slowly, carefully, as if it were a snake prepared to bite. I approached it with apprehension, reached out a hoof, and attempted to open the door.
Locked.
A small grunt of frustration made its way from deep in my chest, then another of determination. I set my feet firmly and grounded myself as my mother had described. I then concentrated on the horn on my forehead, pushing with all my might some unseen force for which I had no name. I felt something... something…
...something. Three little sparks popped from my horn. I gasped excitedly, and they disappeared. My face fell in disappointment, but with a renewed sense of urgency I tried again.
Nothing.
I set and I grounded and I pushed and I tried, but nothing happened. Not a spark. I turned, defeated from the cupboard, and began to grab the books to put them away.
Creeeeeeeeaaaaakkkkk....
I gasped and turned. The door of the cupboard, locked only moments before, had swung open slowly, the blackness within threatening to consume the world outside.
I felt a tightness in my chest as a foreboding draft breezed through the room.
Everything my parents had taught me, every learned instinct, told me to run. But something invited me to stay. Something unheard and unseen, whispering sweet promises somewhere within that cupboard.
I stepped forward nervously, caught between a desire to run and a desire to see, just see, what was in that cupboard.
The door made no more noise as I opened the rest of the way, allowing the light of the single, nearly expired candle from the desk to illuminate the interior of the cupboard.
There was nothing inside. I was confused now, rather than disappointed, I had been so sure that something would be inside. I closed the door of the cupboard, resigned.
When I faced again the direction of the books I squeaked, too startled to scream, at the large black volume that suddenly lay on the floor in front of me. I backed up a step, dubious of the thing. There was no title, nor any distinguishing marks save for a gold inscription of a glyph I did not recognize. Even at my young age I could sense that the book dripped with power, I could almost hear a slight humming emanating from the tome. Eyes wide, legs shaking, I should have run, then, to my room and forgotten the book ever existed.
Instead, I reached out a hoof and opened the cover.
* * *
I must confess that what transpired next has remained quite hazy in my memory, my recollection jarring and confused. Maybe it was too hard my young mind to understand. Perhaps it was a mind attempting to compensate for a traumatic experience. Or even yet it could have been that none of it ever happened because I had already fallen asleep.
What I have been able to recall was that the pages were old and thick, made of a material no longer used by ponies. Written on them were words in a strange language and symbols that meant nothing to my untrained self.
Pictures of both horrible and beautiful scenes were carved into the pages with black and red ink. Sometimes notes were scribbled in the same, strange language in the margins, or sometimes on top of the paragraphs themselves. Some of the pictures had been scribbled over, apparently because a previous reader found them too terrible to comprehend.
Unable to actually read anything inside, I made my way through the book relatively quickly, a feeling of foreboding and excitement growing in my chest. I knew that if father found me I would be grounded for a month, maybe a year, but something told me that what I sought was in this book.
Another inexplicable breeze swept through the study, sending chills up my spine, I looked around and noticed the candle was almost gone, and that the flame would momentarily be extinguished.
One more page...
This page was right, smack-dab in the middle of the book. It was a two-page spread of a fiery scene. I recognized it as a picture of Tartarus, the Equestrian underworld. ut this scene looked much, much darker than any representation I had seen prior. I will not describe for you the cruel harshness of it, as a filly I believe it left me somewhat scarred. A piece of my innocence lost, although I did not fully understand the meaning of the violent image.
To one side of the picture was a box, and inside that box was more of the writing in the strange language. The box was held by a creature that looked like a pony, but was not a pony. It was a unicorn with two horns and cloven hooves, but much more than that I cannot recall what it looked like. The face was sinister, that much I do remember.
I noticed a little piece of paper placed within the curve of the pages, a note I had previously assumed to be a bookmark. Upon this piece of paper was what I can only assume was a translation of that box, written in my father's handwriting. I read it once, I read it again, and again, unsure whether to believe what the inscription promised. Foalishly, I read the passage aloud:
I give of myself
To receive of myself
My one truest desire,
And in exchange for this gift
I promise to give
My truest innocence
In Tartarus our souls will reside
To serve in deed and power
It was at that moment that the candle on the desk went out.
Without any windows in the study, I could barely see my own hoof in front of my face. But slowly, my eyes adjusted to the darkness. What I saw, however, was no longer my fathers study. I couldn't be anywhere else, but inexplicably all around me I saw a rocky, barren wasteland with mountains far in the distance. The world around me seemed to slowly become consumed with a red, yellow, and orange glow, but it still wasn't far above my own height that the world faded into dark shadow. Large chains hung down from the darkness, sometimes limply, sometimes tethered to the ground.
I became aware of noises echoing around me. Chittering and creaking, hoof stomps and wing beats. Loud screams and low moans. Clacking. The noise began to crescendo, building up and up into a cacophony where one sound could no longer be differentiated from any other.
Then, through the din, a loud, even note flowed through. Like a tuning fork pinging. It eliminated the other noise, then faded again into silence as a cloven hoof stomped the ground in front of me.
Much like the picture, I remember little of that creature aside from cloven hooves and the silhouette of two horns. His face was enshrouded by darkness, only his muzzle was distinguishable. The thing’s lips were so thin that it would seem it had no lips at all. Yet somehow it still seemed to have a malevolent grin.
I know it spoke to me. It spoke in words that were smooth and slithery and somewhat reptilian. But what it said I cannot recall. Whenever I try to reach for that part of the memory all that I can hear are the words of that passage ringing through my head. I give of myself... my truest innocence... to serve in deed and power…
I know I spoke with the thing, that... creature. Some kind of accord was made, and
Everything…
Went…
Black.
* * *
I woke up the next morning to a sharp, stinging sensation from across my flank. I thought it might be a cramp, but it felt more as though my thigh were being sliced. A tear leaked from my eye as I looked at my flank, but nothing was visibly wrong. After a few minutes the feeling subsided to a dull, throbbing burn. I moved my leg, but everything was fine, save for the inexplicable pain.
I realized then that I was in my bed. I must have passed out in the study at some point during the ordeal, or perhaps after, or perhaps it was all a part of my dreams, and carried back to my room.
I learned when I was older that my father had entered the study as he normally does in the morning, with a steaming cup of hot cider, to prepare a list of the days necessary tasks. He found me sleeping peacefully, passed out over that dreadful book. He told me that he panicked, pulling me away from the book, and kicking the thing away. He had checked me over by eye and by magic, but nothing seemed amiss. had just been a silly filly that had managed to get into what her parents hoped she never would.
He carried me up to my room and put me in bed, allowing me to sleep for a few more hours. He then spoke with my mother and they had decided that if I asked, they would deny the book existed in order to convince me it was a dream. They moved the book to a safe in our basement, filled up the cabinet with scrolls and books - they even magically added a layer of dust.
They needn't have bothered. I had no interest in the book after that. At least, not for some time.
At that moment, I was too preoccupied with the feeling in my leg to worry about anything that happened the night before - supernatural or otherwise. I honestly believe the house could have fallen down around my eyes and I would have been too caught up with the pain in my leg to notice.
I limped out of bed and down the stairs to the table where my mother had laid out the usual breakfast of various fruits and flowers. I pulled myself up into a chair that I thought my father had pulled out for me.
When I looked up, both my parents were looking at me with bright smiles on their faces Good Morning Sweetheart! What would you like for breakfast?
As they placed my requests on my plate Shining Armor pulled up a seat at the table, bright eyed and bushy tailed - he had always been a morning pony. I glared at him from across the table.
Well, good morning to you too, sunshine, he had said with a laugh, at which point I threw my glass of berry juice at him. The surge of satisfaction at the bewilderment on his face was worth any punishment my parents doled out on me, especially after how he had acted the night before.
But when I looked at my parents I saw a mix of the same shock and bewilderment that Shining had upon his face, if only slightly more pleased. That was when I realized that I had both hooves placed firmly on the table.
I hadn't thrown the juice at Shining Armor. I had used my magic to dump it squarely over his head.
I'd also bet my Smartypants doll that I pulled out the chair for myself, not my father.
I gasped loudly, pain in my leg forgotten, and bounced around the floor like the filly I was. OMIGOSHOMIGOSHOMIGOSH!
That day was my special day. It wasn't exactly earning my cutie mark, but being able to gain control over one's own magic is a VERY important time in a young unicorn's life. Suffice it to say, I was beside myself with glee.
Shining Armor tried to defend me over the juice, saying that he had said something mean to me (which was true), causing instead my parents to ground us both - effective after the celebration of the appearance of my magic. That day has become one of my most cherished and happy memories, alongside those of meeting my friends in Ponyville and my brother's wedding.
After the day was over, as we were heading up to bed, Shining Armor apologized to me for his behavior the evening before. It was then he told me about his acceptance into the Equestria Youth Cadets, and he would be leaving for Youth Hoof Camp within the week and wouldn't be back for several months.
What he said still hurt, but it stung a little bit less knowing that it had been borne by his own internal conflict as opposed to outright cruelty.
* * *
Being grounded didn't bother me much, as a general rule. Grounding generally meant more time to study, which I actually enjoyed very much. Okay, so maybe the fillies and colts at school called me a know-it-all and teased me, and that wasn't very fun, but... I couldn't help it, I loved to learn!
In fact, after Shining Armor left for Youth Hoof Camp, I spent more time with my parents than I had at any point in my life. They worked with me individually on my magic, they gave me all the tools and resources to practice and improve, and they gave me their full attention.
They even hired me a foal-sitter who was well-versed in magic, herself, for the times they simply could not be there. Her name was Cadence, and she would help me practice when my parents couldn't. She would sit with me patiently as I asked her questions, and even made up little magic games to play to help me practice. She was the best foal-sitter a pony could ask for.
Looking back on it all, I must commend her for her patience and stamina. I don't think I gave her a moments rest.
Everyone was astonished at how fast my magical abilities progressed. Even I wondered at how I got proficient so quickly, especially after having not the slightest hint that I would have any magic at all.
That's when the nightmares started
They began harmlessly enough. I would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming at faceless terrors. I would be strangled by my bed sheets, drenched in sweat, trying to recall what, exactly, had terrified my unconscious mind. They didn't leave much effect, at first, as I could simply roll over and go back to sleep after a few comforting whispers from my parents.
As the days and weeks passed, the nightmares began to occur more frequently, and my parents began to worry they resulted from being pushed too hard. They had me back off a little on my studies. It didn't hinder me as I was still progressing in my study of magic by leaps and bounds.
It didn't help. The nightmares began to get worse, and I started to remember them after I awoke. I was in the barren, red wasteland of that night, chains hanging inexplicably from the sky. I was always being chased by unknown horrors. After a few nights, I realized the cloven-hooved thing led the charge. I was scared that if it caught me, it would do horrible things to me.
I would wake up exhausted after nights of endless running. I began to get sick. Everyone worried, as neither magic nor medicine seemed to help. I only seemed to feel better in the presence of my family or Cadence. They would read to me as I lay in bed, too exhausted to move. It helped calm me, and sometimes their reading would keep the nightmares at bay. Perhaps that is why I enjoy reading so much now. On days where I read more, the less nightmares I would have.
As I began to realize this, I read more and more often, any book I could get my hooves on. Perhaps filling my mind with knowledge was what kept the monsters at bay.
I began to sleep through the night. I began to feel better. My parents let me pick up my studies, and Cadence started to play the magic games with me again. Shining Armor came home and showed me all the neat things he learned at Youth Hoof Camp and I got to show him all the magic I had learned. I also noticed he liked spending a lot of time with Cadence.
All too quickly I forgot the nightmares. I still studied, but I neglected to read as often.
My parents decided that I was truly gifted with magic, and they began to teach me what I needed in order to pass the entrance exams for Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Within a matter of months they thought I was ready. After a few hiccups and a sonic rainboom later, I managed not only gain entry to the school, but Princess Celestia offered to take me on as her personal student. What made that moment even better? My cutie mark had appeared on my flank.
I was ecstatic, and my parents were thrilled.
They took Shining Armor and I out for a special day on the town, no studying, no stress, and of course, no reading.
That night, I was visited by a gruesome, haunting nightmare so vivid I cannot say for certain I was actually asleep.
I was running again, chased by the cloven-hooved creature and his entourage. I cannot be sure as to how it happened, but it managed to corner me at the edge of a cliff. He towered over me, much as how Shining had towered over me that fateful night.
The thing reached up, peeled this skin off his face, revealing a much more disturbing visage beneath. I will not, no... I cannot tell you what lay beneath. Had I been a pony of a weaker mind, I daresay I would have become broken. As it was, I cannot say I escaped that nightmare without some scar upon my psyche.
The thing leaned down over me, smelling of rotting flesh. As it opened its mouth and breathed upon me I was overwhelmed by the stench of bile. It took every fiber of will I had not to lose the contents of my stomach.
It did not harm me, though one of the tentacles protruding from its mouth brushed against my shoulder as it leaned to whisper in my ear. It left me feeling dirty.
It's voice was soft and raspy "I have upheld my end of the bargain, Twilight Sparkle, from this moment forward, the soul of everypony you love will become my payment."
I woke up screaming, and for the first time in years, I wet the bed.