The grand library of Canterlot had seen its fair share of visitors since its opening, ponies of all manners and trades, scholars with great interest in the works of some of the most important weavers of magic and earthly powers alike; it is true though that only a handful of visitors ever delved in the deeper portions of the library, where the true nuggets of history have been kept safe for generations, and for good reason: accidents can always occur and the written word cannot be replaced by the memory of it. Princess Celestia knew this all too well when she placed restrictions over certain sections of the library, to the distress of those that sought after the wisdom of the ancestors, but there was little else she could have done. Even so, her personal library had but a little of all the knowledge that was out there, spread all over the land of Equestria. And in her wisdom, Celestia saw that there may come a time when the words of caution delivered by the wise ponies of the past will serve in dealing with the troubles of the future. Now, if only some other young filly would learn to pay heed to the words of her elder, it would all turn out for the better...
Twilight Sparkle was thirsty again, but it wasn't for a tasty grape juice which by coincidence she was just enjoying as she browsed the titles of the books in front of her. She could barely reach the bottom shelf, and that sometimes frustrated her. There was just so much that she could learn from the written words of great ponies that lived before her, and she thoroughly enjoyed the hours she spent reading about their lives and their exploits, wishing only that she could grow a little bit faster so that the mysteries of the top shelves would be revealed to her. The history of magic fascinated her, and her thirst for adventures of magical prowess was nigh-insatiable. She was often scolded by her mentor for burning the night oil when she was meant to be sleeping instead, and not few were the mornings when the sun's first rays greeted the young purple unicorn filly as her head rested on the worn pages of an ancient tome from the library. The guards grew more than accustomed to her presence in the library, much to the amazement of older ponies that had serious difficulties to gain access to the books pertaining to their fields of interest - but then again, they were not the best student of her Majesty, princess Celestia.
She just came in to return a book, the latest in the series of Darring Do's brave adventures. Having just finished it (and just in the nick of time too, since her magical study swallowed up much of her waking hours - but Darring's heroics were just too good to postpone their reading for some other time), Twilight allowed her random browsing to lead her to a section of the library she had not been into before. In large, silver letters it was written above the archway of the entrance: "Star Swirl the Bearded section". The doors appeared heavy but they responded almost instantly to Twilight's shimmering magical horn: without the slightest sound, they swinged open and a breeze swooped inside, stirring the dust from the neatly stacked tomes. The young filly's eyes grew larger and larger as the titles on the spines of the books illuminated as she went by them, the letters sparkling in all the colours imaginable, dancing around her in a frenzy of swirls and twists as their words vibrated in the profound tones of purest magic. She couldn't stop giggling at the sight of such magnificent examples of practical applications of magic, and it was in this very moment that Twilight truly felt at home inside the library, perhaps more than in any other circumstances. All the titles looked incredibly promising, and Twilight started to mentally write a list to prioritise the order in which she would approach the reading of the books.
Some of the books weighed too much for her budding magic to be able to lift them from their spot, and she quickly abandoned them, moving them on the bottom of her mental list. Other books were too stuffy, dealing with magic far beyond what she knew she was able to perform, but nevertheless interesting. One by one, the treasure trove of arcane knowledge dwindled in size as she eliminated the books one at a time - that one was too obscure, the other one was written in a language she did not know, another refused to open without the proper spell being cast upon it, the next one was filled with blank pages to the naked eye and barely revealing any words under the influence of her valiant attempts at magic. Twilight was growing quite tired, yawning as she skimmed the first pages of the last book she managed to hold, and the moon was already casting her cold glare across the room, through the partially covered window on the opposing wall. From her tower, high above the library, Celestia smiled as she noticed the small glimmer of light coming from the library. Twilight had ignited a small spark on the very tip of her horn, so that she could see better in the dark; she only wished that her nightly foray would prove to be fruitful as no particular book was accessible to her, and the other sections of the library had already suffered her incursions and were depleted of anything of interest.
Almost resigning to the thought of having to go to sleep without a good book under her hooves, Twilight prepared to exit the aisle when she noticed the shadow of a tome underneath the bottom shelf, possibly dropped by someone careless. She found it odd that her magic could not move it - with the other books, she was able to feel their weight pressing down on her spell, but this book felt like it wasn't even there. She had to lay on her back to see the book underneath the lowest bookshelf, and reach for it with her hooves. The book vanished before she managed to touch it; puzzled, she stepped back a bit, only to trip on it as it appeared behind her. All the other swirling book titles had vanished, and in the dark corridor only Twilight's magic light and the moonlight were the remaining sources of light. Twilight picked up the book, and as she raised it up to her eyes, the cover of the book slided aside, revealing hoof-written pages. She found the writing to be a bit eccentric, but understandable: she sat down near the door, absorbing the words as they revealed themselves to her:
"Gazelle suggested that I write my memories down on a piece of paper. Or more, for I would have quite a tale to unravel for whoever might read them. I take this opportunity to congratulate the reader for his efforts in acquiring this particular book, for I have no intention of making it easy to posess. If I learned anything from my ... activities that lead me to this moment of relative tranquility, is to never take things for granted, especially something that appears as benign as a book.
Now, I do not know how my story will be told in the future, or if it will be recounted at all. What I can provide you with is the truth, in its simplest and most beautiful form. Maybe I will become a great pony wizard and my achievements will become a trademark of my abilities, but that does not change the fact that when I grew up, I found myself as a baby unicorn with no talent for magic, in the very least."
A unicorn without magic? pondered Twilight.
"Yes, yes, I know it sounds rather far-fetched but that's how it was. Now..."
Twilight nearly dropped the book in amazement. Surely, the unicorns of the ancient times had truly powerful magic, but to be able to read minds even after their departure from life (and through the medium of a book as well) was way beyond anything she would have expected. She jumped away from the book as she clearly heard, in the crispy silence of the library, the perfectly articulated words emanating from the now stirring pages of the book : "Would you mind picking me up?". Carefully approaching the rustling pages, the filly picked up the tome and resumed reading:
"Before you ask yourself how can I read your mind since I am more than likely dead by your standards, I can assure you that I don't. However, whether you touch these pages or levitate them with your magic, you have established a connection with it, and I weaved a spell in it in such a manner that it would metaphorically read you just as much as you literally read it. Yes, it is possible. No I won't tell you how to do it because that's not the information I have placed in this book. Look at it as the way you use coloured crayons to fill up a blank contour; your mind will choose the hues and your body will fill the empty spaces - but the contour stays the same regardless of your tastes in nuances. I have more or less written myself in these pages, and they will deliver their story as quickly as you let them to. Now, if you'll have no more questions, I'll begin by explaining you why I was unable to perform the simplest of magic, and why in my early years I genuinely hated magical folk and their abilities. You see, I always had a ghost following me."