It is dark in here.
I have only a small chunk of dim candlelight from which to see and write, so I may have to keep this moderately brief.
My name is Gilda.
That is one of the only things that I can remember from my past. My name, a few blurred faces and names that may or may not go with them, and the agony of my death which, if what my warden says is true, was the result of being pulled under a carriage.
I have no idea what led me to such a fate, but I’m not sure that I want to know.
Sometimes, when I fall asleep, I dream of the underside of the carriage being sprayed with my blood and I wake up feeling like my bones are on fire. I scream and wail until my throat burns and my voice gives out, but no-one comes to my aid.
I’ve been sequestered in this small, windowless cell for what feels like an eternity, and in that eternity I’ve tried my hardest to remember who I was before…before what?
What was I before?
It’s almost all gone, my memories are a dark void with only a few frames of my past life suspended as if in amber.
Who was I?
Was I kind? Cruel? Sardonic? Lascivious? Melancholic? Upbeat? Did I have any friends? Was I loved by someone? Did I love someone back? I know that I have a father, but do I have a mother? How old am I? What did I like and dislike?
All these questions buzz around in my mind like angry hornets, but I fear that they might never be answered.
I know that I have a father, because he is my warden. He brings me books and food everyday, and seems surprised by how fast I devour and assimilate the written word. Maybe I was lazy or stupid when I was normal?
Anyway, Father tells me very little about the past, though he did tell me some things about my resurrection: like the method of which I was reconstructed and the name of the griffon who brought me back.
The method is called “Sewing-Life Necromancy”. Basically it means that the necromancer reinforced by shattered bones with steel, filled my blood with various forms of alkahest, sewed my various tears and ruptures closed, and replaced the parts of me that didn’t work anymore with parts from other donors.
It was quite fascinating and, as for the name of my savior, my father only gave me a first name: Melkonis.
Melkonis, as my father has stated several times over, is one of the last necromancers in Equestria and is also the best one there is, having studied and plied his morbid trade for many years.
Of course, being still curious as to my unseen surroundings, I asked him what “Equestria” was and he provided me with a massive tome of Equestrian history the following day ( at least, I think that a day had passed).
So I learned about Princesses Celestia and Luna came to power, about how Luna fell to darkness and was corrupted, and how she was redeemed by the Elements of Harmony.
The Elements of Harmony interest me greatly. The thought of a sextet of magical artifacts with the power of pure goodness makes me want to learn even more about them, which, by extension, makes me want to learn more about everything.
Maybe I’ll learn all that there is to know, I have been told that my lifespan is far longer than most griffons… or most members of any species.
I have been so enraptured in my studies as of late, but that probably has to do with the sadness that has recently overtaken me.
For the longest time I thought that Father was keeping me here for my own good, reasoning that he wanted to protect me from the horrors of the world and a second death. But now I am convinced that he is keeping me here simply because he cannot stand me.
It took me awhile to see the disgust in his eyes whenever he looked at me. But it was there, it was always there and I wasn’t well-learned enough to see it.
Why does he hate me?
I know that I must look… different, as I have seen the steel braces on my hindpaws and talons, but I’m still his daughter.
Aren’t I?
Gilda stopped her writing when he talon started to shake, and she moved away from the paper when she began to tear up.
Gilda moved to the thick steel door just as the feeding slot opened to expel her dinner, as well as a book on the Elements of Harmony. She was slightly impressed by how punctual the two other people who guarded her cell were; they had never been late in all of her time in the cell.
She picked up her plate and glass and set them on the small table that she used for writing and reading, then she picked up the book, which was titled “An updated history of the Elements of Harmony.”
Gilda read the first few chapters whilst eating her dinner, the descriptions of the all the perils and hardships that these new Bearers faced acting as the perfect escape from her cell, allowing her to envision the sights, the sound and the smells of the world outside. Her fantasy faded fast when she saw the pictures of the current Bearers.
A pink earth pony with a poofy mane.
A white-furred unicorn with elegant purple tresses.
An orange earth pony with a funny-looking hat.
A yellow-furred pegasus who was blushing bashfully.
A purple unicorn who was holding up her element proudly.
And a blue pegasus with the most striking mane out of all of them, manly because of its rainbow coloration.
Rainbow…. Now why does that word seem so… important?
Gilda tried to concentrate on the image of the pegasus, whose name appeared to be “Rainbow Dash”. She willed herself to think and remember, but all that resulted from that endeavor was a headache and an increased sense of depression.
Sighing miserably, Gilda closed the book and went to her bed, curling up on it and closing her eyes as all that she had learned were digested.
She was asleep in a heartbeat, and in her dreams she saw the face of the rainbow-maned pegasus laughing cruelly at her.