//------------------------------// // Entry 5 // Story: The Terror's Dream // by GrouchoMarxDisciple //------------------------------// My hotel was ransacked last night. Somepony found my journal. I'm frightened to write much more right now. The Princess is sending me a warning. I must flee to Ponyville, or else I may never find the truth. In the meanwhile, I have begun work on another "Wand". This one must be easily concealable, as I do not want the Princess to get wind of it. It won't be able to do much more than tell me how strong the Magic is nearby, but even that is an improvement from trying to find out through other ways. The road to Ponyville is long and hard. If I had any spare bits, I would use them on train tickets. I have also continued translating the Wizard's Journal, but what I find is frightening. It appears Star Swirl's search began to consume him, taking away his sanity. There are poems and sonnets in the margins, each one grimmer than the last, and each one less and less coherent. Consider this segment. There is a dame, she holds the world, Did make 'er sleep the night away, Her eyes be shut, 'er eyes still look, For friends to torture an' to play Woe to them in the dream, An' greater them who still awake, For when She wakes, my little dears, There won't be a world left to shake. This is a bit alarming. Perhaps his age was finally catching up to him, as he grew to be unnaturally old. I was almost arrested today. They are setting up checkpoints now, looking for me specifically. I suppose that makes me a fugitive. The road is long. I must begin. There is no world to shake at all.