For the next few months of my life, my mind was bound by that overbearing sense of isolation. Throughout each day, I would simultaneously try to reach out to the other ponies that lived around me and I would push them away to punish myself for not socializing. It was a vicious cycle that only became more and more difficult to bear through my college life. With the change in scenery, classes beginning to show their true workload, and the world becoming more hostile, I began to fall behind.
I would try to stay up later, study harder, and focus more, but somehow I simply couldn’t come up with the ability to stay in that lofty place that I had come to cherish. I started to wonder if my collegiate life was just some big cosmic accident, a mistake in the grand workings of the universe that somehow didn’t account for me.
There was, however, one class that forced me to leave those doubts behind. It was the one class where I felt truly immersed; history. I loved everything about my History 201 class. Professor Bales’ zany attitude always made me crack a smile, ushering in some hope that my day could get better. The lectures were grand, and the subjects he discussed were grander still. He would lecture on massive wars, only to relate them to two squabbling fillies on the playground. He had this uncanny ability to make the distant past seem glorious, and still leave us in awe as he explained the less exciting times of the discordian reign.
The last thing I remember about that class on this particular day was that I did not bid my professor farewell. Due to the increasing rigor of school, I was beginning to feel the effects of mental stress.
As I strode through the familiar corridors of the lecture hall, I let myself pick up to a brisk trot. Applied Chemistry was next, and I had developed a new path to that class. Instead of having to gallop through the school like a madman, all I had to do was trot through The Union; the place where the unicorns were taught their magical practices. It was a choice between facing the humiliation of sprinting through the school grounds, and possibly missing my class as a result, or being ridiculed by the unicorns that ruled the university, a feeling I had become numb to for the most part.
It wasn’t easy the first few times, but once the unicorns realized that I was only passing through, they began to leave me alone, aside from their usual mocking jeer or snicker. It kept me from smelling like an earth pony as well. That was one of the biggest benefits to the creation of this new route through The Union. I gave little care and they slowly began to care little about me.
It was obvious that their section of the school was pampered and praised. Banners of purple silk marked the classrooms, and each one was filled with expensive luxuries. Floor to ceiling chalkboards were commonplace throughout The Union, the logic being that the unicorn professors could easily write on the upper and lower extremities. Instead of the tables that filled up the other buildings, desks were organized in geometric rows on cascading floors. Every seat had a clear view of the professor and the entirety of the chalkboard. It was constructed with the purpose to educate. The floors were not tiled, but rather covered in a soft carpet that would make me think twice about taking my route during a rainstorm.
At first it had angered me, that the school would spend so much money on these lavish expenses, but I soon grew apathetic. There was no reason that we needed any of these things, but everything in the rooms of The Union seemed practical. The unicorns would commonly rise from their seats to respond to a question or to cast spells, making individual desks a necessity rather than a luxury. The students needed to see the complex spells the professors would scribble onto the board so their seats needed to be lofted.
I found myself slowing to a walk as I strode past active classes. Their course schedules, just like everything else about them, were different than ours. Rarely would I see a soul on my trek through that building, and I prefered it that way. The unicorns didn’t bother me, and I didn’t bother them. Most probably assumed I was part of the large janitorial staff that kept The Union in spotless condition.
Sometimes the professors would leave their doors open, letting their seemingly infinite knowledge leak out into the hallways as I passed. It was somehow thrilling to me, that I could hear bits and pieces of the lectures and discussions of those classes. Phrases such as “While this is illegal to use outside of campus—” ,“I believe that worked, but I may have accidentally broken the laws of physics again” or, my personal favorite “Let’s try that again in the fourth dimension,” were tossed around like one would discuss the weather. It was commonplace for them to learn these kinds of subjects, and I had become acutely aware of why the unicorns acted so superior. They held, in their horn, the ability to completely change the way the world operated. They could ignore the laws of physics and conjure up spells to modify whatever they chose.
I loved strolling through those halls; not for the power that I gained from being in their presence, but rather, I enjoyed thinking of all the possibilities they had in their grasp. What else goes on behind those doors? What other feats of magic were being performed on a daily basis here? I was intrigued, my curiosity piqued by the unattainable power that dwelled behind those doors. I knew I couldn’t be a part of it. Deep down, I knew that I was standing in the school of the gods. I couldn’t join their ranks. I couldn’t walk into these classes on a whim. There was only one thing I could do: imagine.
Every time I stepped into The Union, I stepped into a completely different world. I imagined myself freely venturiung into the lectures and take my seat alongside of the others to hear these great minds speak. I wanted to feel included, and, for some unknown reason, I felt at home here. It was beautifully peaceful, nonchalantly powerful, and above all, it was a place where boundaries didn’t matter quite as much.
As I rounded the final corner, I felt sad, as though I was leaving a place where I truly belonged. I wasn’t like them, but that didn’t stop my heart from yearning to learn about those unfathomable subjects. My world began to fade, the imaginary acceptance dwindling with it, and I became aware of my surroundings once again. As I walked past that final class at the end of the hall, I remember hearing two specific words: “Earth Pony.” They were part of a longer conversation, but they struck me as odd. It wasn’t condescending, rude, or disgusted; rather, it was part of a question. My ears perked up, and my mind was suddenly aware of the discussion in the classroom.
I reached the second door of that same classroom, my ears now straining to hear anything that might be uttered in that place. I wanted to know, because I was hungry for the impossible. Then, as I quietly walked past the doorway, I heard someone, who I assumed to be the professor, respond to that question about my kind.
“While earth ponies can hypothesize on spells...” his voice faded away just as soon as it had come. A second later, I had left the building and entered the world of my peers. All of the feelings of solitude and sadness returned, drowning the quote beneath layers of sadness in my soul.
I only had a few minutes until Applied Chemistry, and I had been quickly thrust back into the world I had learned to despise. Within a moment, my exquisite, beautiful realm was marred by the cold reality outside of The Union. I became aware that time was slipping away by the second. I broke out into a gallop as I began to race toward my next class. I had a directive, and I was focused on it.
I entered my Applied Chemistry class with only a few seconds to spare. It had become commonplace for me to run in as the door was closing, and the professor was sympathetic to my plight. He knew of the trek that I was faced with between classes, but he was under the impression that I should be on time to class regardless.
“I see somepony is a few seconds later than usual,” he quipped as I trotted to my seat.
“I was running into the wind today,” I said with a smile as I sat onto my chair.
“Alright class,” the professor announced through the maze of glass tubes and beakers before him. “Today our lesson will focus on titration.”
I tried to pay attention to the lecture, but my mind had other plans. Instead of watching the professor, it decided to drift back into that world of imagination. This had been happening more frequently as the semester went on. The classes were becoming more difficult, and I was tempted to retreat to those imaginary worlds where I was king. I let my mind wander through the vast halls of The Union, a place that had become a symbol of power.
I strolled through its halls at unorthodox hours as the seas of unicorns poured over the carpet. I simply walked, free to choose any one of those doors that held a wealth of information behind them. I never dared open them, however, for I could never conjure up the spectacular happenings inside the rooms. Whenever I had tried, my imaginary world had collapsed into a void of the unknowable. I wanted to fill it, to seek out those hidden truths. It was so tantaliz-
“Well Starswirl?” the professor asked, tearing me back into reality.
“What?” I asked, stunned by the sudden interruption.
“Is it possible to titrate two acids together?”
“I—yes?” I said, trying to weasel my way out of the trap I was caught in.
“And how would you go about doing that?” the professor asked as his eyebrow drifted upwards.
I couldn’t respond. I had no idea what the class was on or what a titration was. My eyes grew wide as I tried to come up with some reasonable explanation. My mind was blank, and everypony knew it.
The professor waited a few seconds before responding to his own question. “Starswirl is incorrect,” he started as my heart sunk. “Titrations are to be performed with an acid, base, and indicator.”
I was paying attention now, but I was still ashamed at my failure to exercise my knowledge. I had failed, once again, to make myself feel like I was in a group. The professor droned on, continuing his lecture on the chemistry behind titrations. I was left, however, to sit in silence and isolation. It seemed that no matter how hard I tried, I was unable to make myself be who I wanted.
It was the most grueling hour I had experienced in a long time. I felt as though I had been publicly shamed and left to rot in the corner, my stench only growing worse as the professor continued on. It took every part of my body to keep my mind sitting squarely in reality, and even then I began to let it wander ever so slightly. It was horrible, but I couldn’t risk another moment of humiliation. As my mind followed that same flawed logic of self hatred I had come to know all too well, I condemned myself to isolation for rest of the day. It seemed only fair, as I had just proven myself unable to pay attention to a simple lecture.
I watched the professor intently, as though I could repay the distraction I had made earlier with focused attention now, but it was useless. I had, with my only opportunity, proven myself to be inept. Not only to my teacher, but also to my fellow classmates. I was a wreck, but there was nothing I could do to change myself.
The professor did not stop me on my way out. He seemed to not care about me, and that was fine. I did want him to talk to me and to ask why I had become more disconnected from class, but then again, I was in college now. It was my responsibility, not that of my professors, to keep up with myself, and I was doing a terrible job.
I remember walking back to my dorm, my head hung low in shame. Still, after nearly an hour, that embarrassment sat in my soul like a burning ember, slowly charring more of my being. It was painful—excruciating even—to feel those lingering effects of shame, but I felt as though I deserved them. I remember taking my eyes off the ground for a moment to look at the student center. I wanted so badly to call that place my home, but the same feelings of isolation continued to bar me from that place.
I turned my attention back to the ground, and to the grass that was carpeted in the leaves of fall. Immediately, an image of violet carpet came to my mind. It was that of the floors of The Union, that place that I held in such high regard. I couldn’t help myself as I replayed the scene that had occurred that day. I walked myself through the hall, just as I had that day.
I could see the lavish expense. I could hear the voices of those professors. I could see myself wandering those halls in absolute wonder. I quietly rounded the corner in my mind’s eye as I replayed that scene. I remembered my ear twitching, its sensitivity triggered by the utterance of “Earth Pony.”
That’s when I heard it, as I remembered myself walking past that second door, an extra portal to the same room. The phrase was spoken in passing, as though it were a fleeting breeze, but that phrase changed me. With one dismissive comment, I had been given the ability to believe in something greater.
“While earth ponies can hypothesize on spells…” It left as quickly and gently as it arrived, but the words were unmistakable. Immediately, I was ripped from my imagination, my heart skipping a beat as I realized what had been said.
“Earth ponies can hypothesize on spells?” I whispered as I looked around. I didn’t expect an answer, as I was simply ensuring that i was still firmly planted in reality. A strong breeze rolled over the orange trees on the far end of the mall. It caught my attention as it stirred the leaves from the grass in a small wave. As it rolled over me, I was met with a new realization: I was very much in reality. A chill raced down my spine as the implications of the phrase began to set in. It fueled me, and gave me a drive to move once more. A door had been opened.
I raced back to my dorm as quickly as I could. I don’t know why I went there. It never gave me any sense of solace, but I galloped to that room all the same. I was fueled with a new energy that coursed through my veins. I thought I had been given the chance to be something I never could have imagined, and I wanted it so desperately that I became unaware of my isolation. For a few brief moments, not only did I feel as though I would be accepted, I felt as though my purpose had been just pointed out. I probably scared some of the other ponies that lived on my floor as I barreled through the hall and threw myself into my room.
I slammed the door, bolted it closed, and raced to my desk. I scribbled out the phrase faster than I knew I could. The letters weren’t pretty, but I couldn’t forget that essential phrase that had been uttered hours ago.
“While earth ponies can hypothesize on spells…” I whispered as I looked at the page on my desk. The scrawl was illegible, that much was certain, but I could read it as though it were typed. I knew what the words said, but as I stared the sentence, a new sensation began to take hold. What does it mean?
I had been so wrapped up in the fragment that I had neglected its context. I jotted down the preceding phrase above it, as though the only other bit of context I had would somehow give me some clue as to what it meant.
“Earth pony…” I whispered, trying to match the upward inflection that I had heard. “While earth ponies can hypothesize on spells.” Something was there, some deeper meaning was behind these words, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. Can earth ponies really hypothesize on spells? I wondered. Can they use magic?
I grabbed my dictionary, the one that I had purchased months ago yet never opened. “H… y… p…” I muttered as I swiped through the pages as quickly as I could without tearing them from the binding. “Hypothesize!” I shouted. I already knew what the word meant, but I needed the verification. My adrenaline began to race as I read the definition aloud. “Hypothesize… verb…” I started, my voice shaking with excitement. “to form a hypothesis…”
My eyes darted to the entry above. “Hypothesis… to present an explanation for a phenomenon.”
As my search continued, I began to write out the revised phrase that had been so carelessly uttered. Even though equestrians without wings or horns have the ability to present an explanation for magical phenomena… I read over that line several times, trying to glean any information that may have hidden from me, but it was slowly becoming infuriating. The line itself had no meaning. It was without context, a spell without a caster. I was lost, but I refused to accept that as a reality. I needed to know what that professor meant, and I couldn’t wait.
Hours passed as I redefined and rearranged those words, hoping I could squeeze any more information from them. I was parched, and I had been given a stone. I couldn’t get anything more, but I tried anyway. It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that I attempted to rebuild the conversation around the two disjointed phrases. I tried every scenario I could think of, but none of them presented themselves as the truth. I was trying to solve a problem with only half of the equation.
However, I had been given a glimmer of hope.
While I do not remember falling asleep, I remember waking up disgruntled and exhausted. My mind, had been working overtime, and it was not ready to give up just yet. As I came to, I picked up those last few thoughts I had before I drifted off to sleep. I had been wondering if the words really meant anything at all and if I was simply making up nonsense by searching so hard for the answer I couldn’t find.
Maybe it was the sun, that ghostly reminder that each day starts with a little bit more hope than the day before, that told me to look once more. As the light crept onto the page I let my eyes drift to the scrawl that covered its surface. I had filled the paper with the scribblings of my frantic mind, those paragraphs of information that lead nowhere. I had worked so hard, yet in my effort, I had left that first line framed in white. It seemed as though the rest of the words regarded it as sacred and would not dare to venture closer.
It stood from the rest, keeping the lies and distortions from its truth. It was hiding something from me, something that I wanted so desperately to understand. I had stared at it through the night, but it begged for me to take one more glance. As my eyes drifted to the page once more, I felt something stir deep within my soul. It was a feeling I had not felt since I had entered the university. It was hope.
“While earth ponies can hypothesize on spells…” They comforted me. For the first time in a long time, I felt peace. I was driven to discover what this cryptic text told me, but there was also something inside me that told me everything would be alright. I don’t know why I felt that way, but I knew that I would soon be pursuing a place that I was unable to imagine.
In that moment, I resolved to break the code. I decided that I was going to confront the professor, to ask him what he meant, to get an answer to the question that was beginning to burn my soul. I had been given a chance at peering into one of those classrooms, if not only for a moment, and I was going to take it. I was going to pursue that feeling of hope. I was going to understand.
As I began to piece together my plan, a new feeling washed over me. The sun’s rays were alighting on my desk, something that did not happen on tuesdays, or any other day of the week. That hope that had sparked in my soul was suddenly flooded with the realization that I was late for class.
“Damnit!” I didn’t curse often, but it was the only thing I could manage as I quickly gathered up my supplies. I checked the clock on the wall, it was already an hour into my first class on the even days. I quickly dug through my folders and books, gathering everything I needed for the day.
I stowed everything I thought I needed into my bag and raced to the door. As my hoof hit the cold metal handle, I paused. I looked back to that page on my desk. It was a beautiful scene. The rays of the morning sun rested on its wrinkled and smudged surface. The ink of my chaotic musings shined golden in the light. It seemed to reassure me that, despite my tardiness, I was on a path toward redemption.
I nearly broke the door hinges as I raced out of my room and barreled toward my class. I hated being late, but I couldn’t stop my mind from justifying my actions. I was going to be alright, and there was nothing I could do to change that fact. My gallop continued, as I was still late to class, but I was becoming more and more accepting of my fate. I had done the right thing. I was sure of it.
I tried not to draw attention to myself as I quietly took my seat at the back of the classroom, but the professor had different intentions. As soon as his eyes caught my guilty stare, he began his attack.
“That reminds me of a story,” he started, his gaze locked to mine. “When I was a young, impressionable, college student, I decided that sleep was more important than attending class.”
By now, the rest of the class was beginning to face me. I was uneasy, but, remarkably, I was able to keep my cool. That small spark of hope would not let the shame come. I was surprisingly confident, and the professor was beginning to notice.
His voice grew more stern. “I had believed that being asleep had a higher priority than attending my class. And while a morning bed can be a seductress, I was strong enough to fight its strength. I had the willpower to fight its call to remain in bed.”
He smirked. It was a devious smile, the kind one gets when he is more interested in hurting somepony rather than making a point. I wanted to retort, and my mind was already arming with vitriolic ammunition. I was ready to go, to fight my superior and bring him down a notch, but I didn’t. Instead of use that pride that had become my final defense, I decided to take a different route. My nostrils flared as my eyebrows rose. He assumed I had taken the bait and was going to make a rebuttal to his statement, but he was wrong.
“My apologies professor,” I started, “It will not happen again.” My voice was calm, my reaction genuine, and he did not like it.
I could see his face fall, his attempt to instigate me had failed, and both of us knew it.
“See to it, starswirl,” he muttered as he turned back to the chalkboard.
I felt bad for him, that aged stallion who seemed to harbor so much hatred. I watched him closely as his lecture continued. He began revealing things that I had never noticed before. His hoof had a slight tremor, indicative of his old age. He would write things on the board, and pause before turning around to address the class. It was like he was checking for something, to ensure that he got his facts straight. Maybe his mind was beginning to fail him, maybe he was starting to lose sight of who he was.
It slowly dawned on me that his actions were just like mine had been to my peers and superiors alike. It was a defensive mechanism that I had honed over months of inner hatred and disdain. Then my mind began to follow a different train of thought, one that had never occurred to me. I began to wonder about what might possibly bring a professor to such a level of hatred.
Class was over much sooner than usual, but I decided to remain to confront him. Something deep within me told me to stay, so I did. As the last few students walked out of the room, I rose from my chair.
“Professor Evergreen?” I asked quietly. He tossed his head in my general direction. Not interested in talking with the likes of me, I suppose. “I just wanted to apologize for coming in late today.”
He stopped gathering his papers and let out a sigh. “Was there any particular reason you were tardy?” he grumbled without shifting his gaze from his work.
Part of me wanted to tell him about my recent discovery, but I knew that would mean nothing to him. I pondered for a moment, giving him time to gather his papers so he could direct his attention at me. “I was up early studying,” I said, trying to dodge the subject of my newfound hope.
“And what captured your attention?” he asked as he turned his eyes toward mine. They were empty, not full of the hope like those of my finance professor. “What was so important that you were forced to sleep through half of my class?
I remember looking at the professor with the most conflicted expression my face could muster. In that time I realized that I was faced with a decision. “I must have just let time get away from me.” With that simple phrase, I simply turned to the door and strode out. I didn’t even give him the chance to respond, I left the room and quickly made my way to lunch.
The rest of the day seemed to race by, but that one small incident burned itself into my mind. For some reason I couldn’t help but ask myself why I simply left. I wasn’t afraid of him at that point, I wasn’t dependent on his acceptance, but I still kept my mouth shut.
Everything else that day has turned into a blur. I remember going about my routine with a separate, distinct feeling about what my future held. I began to realize that I, unlike my past self, was about to embark on a brand new journey of self discovery, as cliche as it sounds. It felt heavy, that impending sense of the unknown, for I still was not sure of the outcome of my decision. Would I be ridiculed by that group that always stood above me? Would I be adopted into their arms like a brother? There was no way I could know, and that thought alone bore down on me like a press. Every bit of my impatience and hope were being systematically squeezed from my system.
I felt every drop leak from me as I struggled to each successive class. It felt as though my day was being stretched along with my impatience. I told myself not to worry, but I could never fully believe that lie. It was as though my mind were convincing itself that I was prepared, despite knowing full well that I would not be prepared at all. Not even my imagination itself could comprehend the mysteries behind that barrier of a door. And those mysteries were ones that I would face in a few short hours. Everything that I knew was about to change, and all I could do was wait for it to happen.
As my day came to an end and I strode into my dorm, I was, once again, confronted by those feelings of such power. The notes that I had taken in the early morning remained in that same spot where the light had once shined. Now, however, the room was dark. The only light that trickled in was the soft pale aura of the moon. It seemed to add a gentle glow to everything it touched, including that paper. Instead of being hopeful, as it had been that morning, the light was peaceful, calm, and pallid. It seemed to comfort me, but not with hope, with reassurance. I had, in the hours that I had spent through the night, come to realize something about myself. I was more than what they said. I was an earth pony who seemed to have it in his mind that he could achieve more than just the caste that society put him in. I was breaking boundaries to find myself, and that gave me comfort.
I gently stepped toward that piece of paper on my desk. It seemed to reel me in, as though I were caught in its embrace. It wanted me to feel as though I was something worthwhile. It’s funny, the feelings caught on that small piece of paper on my desk were the only source of hope in my life. Despite its size, I realized that what it represented was something truly grand. I believed that I was able to rise above the rest and become the pony that my dreams begged me to be.
I had a chance, and that was a feeling that I hadn’t felt in the longest time.
The next day, I woke up feeling refreshed. Instead of spending my entire night straining against the darkness to read my own scrawl, I was able to catch a few winks of sleep. Despite this, I was still quite exhausted from that late night the night before. I didn’t want to get out of my bed, more so today than most others. Despite my desire to snooze for a few minutes more, something drove me from my bed. From the moment my eyes opened, I was filled with an energy unlike any other. I was so excited for the day’s events that I was ready to start despite my exhaustion.
Everything I did that morning was routine. I woke at the normal hour, I showered, and everything was normal. I was living the life of an earth pony, but I had the hope of leaving it. I remember focusing on each task as though everything was about to change. I paid attention to the time I spent brushing my teeth, I took note of how many strokes I used to brush my mane, I did everything I could to remember this morning. Something inside of me said that I was going to soon leave this world, and that I needed to remember this day in particular.
I began to pack my things for the day. I knew what I needed, it had become quite routine to grab my notebooks for Agriculture, Finance, History, and Chemistry, but as I started out of my room, I remembered one more thing. That crumpled, scribbled on piece of paper that sat on my desk seemed to call out to me, to say that it belonged inside of my bag as well. I gently folded it in half, then in half again, before sliding it into the outer pocket. I wasn’t about to leave that vestige of hope to sit in the still air of my dorm. I picked it up and placed it in my bag.
My first class of the day was Agriculture, a class that had become a symbol of everything that I did not want to be. I hated the lecture hall, that impersonal colloseum of demeaning thoughts and form fitting ideologies. I hated the crowd, that writhing hive mind with its mindless stares and reasonless obedience. And worst of all, I hated the professor. That bullshit spewing lecturer that lived off of the same pride that had crushed me. I suppose I was jealous to a degree. He was able to create this persona that I had tried so hard to adopt, but simply couldn’t. I would watch his lecture, each day trying to pick up on some other nuance that I detested, and I usually succeeded. I was able to pass judgement on him that I felt he so strongly deserved. I was taking notes on who not to be, but I didn’t realize that I was using those same traits to judge him.
He lectured about who knows what for what seemed like decades. So much was going to happen later that time seemed to slow to a crawl. I couldn’t pay attention, I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t extinguish that hope. I found my hoof slowly reaching into my bag to retrieve that piece. I wanted so badly for the words on that page to ring true in a way that would change my life. I was hell bent changing my life, and that feeling only grew stronger as that lecturer droned on in his pompous tone. I was desperate to prove him wrong and to pursue the life that I believed would be the best for me. I let the wrinkled paper rub against my hooves. It was as though I could feel the confidence flow into me just from its touch.
I let myself begin to unfold the page. I knew what was on the inside for I had memorized everything on that page, but something inside of me told me to take another look. Through the unintelligible scrawl, I found comfort and peace. Despite my lackluster performance in my studies, I was given another glimmer of hope in my life.
“And furthermore,” the professor shouted from stage far below, interrupting my thoughts and drawing my attention. “I believe that it is our duty to maintain our position in society.”
I desperately wanted to speak out, to deny those words spoken from hatred, but I did not. I remained silent as that stallion continued to spew his lies. I felt as though my words would do nothing, and I was probably right. If I had chosen to speak against him, I would have been crushed no doubt. I kept quiet for the rest of the class, holding that piece of paper between y hooves as though though it were a trapped bug. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing it, it meant so much to me. It was my source of hope, or at least it seemed to be, and I ensured that it did not leave my sight.
When class finally ended, I was one of the first ponies out of the room. I wanted to get away from that stallion, the one that had initially been my hero. As I left the room, one thing lingered with me. That phrase that he had said, that false utterance of pride that said I was nothing, began to mull itself over in my mind. I believe that it is our duty to maintain our position in society. It started to take hold of me as I strode to the cafeteria. With each step, the words seemed to grow more powerful in my mind. It was unnerving.
Now was the time to wait. My next class, finance, would start in an hour, and I had no idea how to spend my time. My mind drifted back to that time when I had tried to study the dirt. I could feel my cheeks getting red as I remembered that moment where I had been a fool. I began to trot as my mind began to wander.
The world around me blurred as I strolled through the autumn air. My mind drifted to the time that I had first remembered those words uttered from that room. They had meant so much to me, but their importance had been marred by the faulty research I had performed. I began to run through the situations that I would find on the other side of the door, but despite my best efforts, I could not bring my mind’s eye to open that portal. It was as though it was impossible to understand, a pointless thought experiment that lead to nowhere.
My thoughts grew heavy, my mind struggling to keep up with my ambitions as they swirled in a disorganized mess in my head. I struggled to pin down my thoughts, but all of them seemed to spiral out of control. In one scene I pictured them readily accepting me, another depicted me as their test subject. Any and all situations flooded my mind, I was beginning to lose control of my imagination.
During those chaotic happenings, I lost track of time. The clock tower struck 15 minutes till, and immediately crushed my racing mind. Time for finance, I thought as I strode back into that giant lecture hall. It brought me comfort to know that my mind would be forced to focus on something, but part of me knew that I wouldn’t be able to focus.
Despite my teacher’s best efforts, my mind began to wander once more as I walked into the class. By the time I had taken my seat, my thoughts had already begun their descent into madness. This time they began with the thoughts of the first interaction I had with that jovial professor that stood before me. He was kind enough to give me a chance, but I was too selfish to acknowledge him.
It was then when I noticed something about who I really was, I realized that I wasn’t ready. I had been so prideful, and part of me knew that I was still prone to it. I began to wonder if my desire was truly pure, not based on that pride that I had fostered for so long. That thought rolled through my mind as I watched the professor drone on. Why do you want to know about magic? Do you just want to be more powerful than your peers? The thoughts began to taunt me, and I began to believe them. Maybe I am just trying to rebuild that pride, I thought, letting that disgusting idea fill my mind and begin to snuff out my only sense of drive I had left. The fear of myself was slowly smothering my hope.
As I entered the cafeteria, I was met with a strong feeling of dread. My mind flashed back to the unicorn who had so flippantly called me out on my pride. It was a memory that was deeply etched into my soul and reminded me that I was still just an earth pony. Nothing more, nothing less, my mind whispered as I grabbed my tray and began to fill it with food. As it grew heavier, so did my sadness.
I began to doubt my decision. Maybe I should forget this ever happened, I thought as I strode through that ever present line at the buffet. What if this was all a fluke? Those seeds of doubt were not without warrant, and I knew it. It was becoming clearer every second that I was about to break a boundary that couldn’t be broken. I wasn’t ready, I knew it, and my ambition began to fade.
The reality of the situation hit me as I stepped onto the cafeteria floor. The unicorns who had been behind me in the line trotted off to their elevated sitting area. For the first time, I paused, entertaining the notion of walking up those stairs and doing the unimaginable. I realized, as I was thinking, my body was doing. I was trotting, along with the rest of the unicorns, toward those stairs. I felt as though I was locked into place, forced to go up into their ranks and join them.
In that moment, I was faced with a decision. I could stay on the floor, with the rest of my kind, or I could venture into the unknown that represented so much to me. I could accept my fate—my place in life—or I could venture up into my dreams.
I stopped, dead in my tracks, and pushed my way out of the stream. That was the moment that the sadness truly began to creep into my soul. It encroached on that spark of hope as I trotted to that familiar, lonely table in the back of the cafeteria. I felt as though I would never be like them, and I began to despise myself for it. I wanted so badly to be a part of them, but I knew I couldn’t. I was just an earth pony, one of those dirty cretins that roamed the school outside of The Union. I hated myself for thinking that I could be one of them.
I didn’t end up finishing my lunch, it was too much of a burden to feed myself. I felt as though I wasn’t worth the effort, that I hadn’t earned my food. As I strode out of the cafeteria, my feelings had completely changed. Instead of being encouraged, I was downtrodden. My life seemed to be leading a direction that would only bring me to failure. In that line, I had felt completely trapped, and that feeling was coming back to me. I had made a promise to myself, but it was a promise I no longer believed I could keep.
Despite my yearnings, I couldn’t bring myself to break free of the society that had held me in its grasp for so long. Instead of breaking the chains and proving them wrong, all I had done was prove them right. I was a pathetic waste of time, and that piece of paper that had represented so much in my life was beginning to weigh me down. I began to realize that I was just an earth pony, nothing more, nothing less. I had been born into a life that could never change, and I knew it.
I was trying to do the impossible, and I was quickly realizing what impossible really meant.
By the time I reached my history class, my dreams were almost completely crushed. Instead of hope that fueled me, it was that same feeling of worthlessness and dread that I had felt ever since my first day. It seemed as though escape was a cruel trick my mind teased itself with, only to bring it deeper into depression. Every day ended worse than the one before, but there was one time of solace; history class.
“Hello Starswirl!” Professor bales chirped as I took my seat in the front of the class. “Are you ready for the lecture?”
I smiled and nodded. I was too afraid that my voice would become shaky to speak, so I kept quiet.
“I see somepony has stolen your voice.”
I looked around me. It was still early, and the rest of my classmates hadn’t arrived yet. I decided to have a little fun with my professor. I nodded again.
Professor Bales threw his hoof over his mouth as he took in a sharp gasp. “We cannot stand for this!”
I heavily furrowed my brow and viciously shook my head. I enjoyed his antics, so I did the best I could to match his.
“Let us find the perpetrator!”
I widened my eyes in shock as I obviously looked at the clock, then back to Bales.
“But you are right,” he started as he rubbed his chin, “we shall search after the lecture!”
I nodded, my entire body moving from the effort. He’ll forget by the end anyway.
“Greetings class!” he started as the rest of the ponies found their seats. “Today we are going to venture into the land of the everfree.” As always, his voice was the perfect storytelling sort. He immediately gathered the attention of all the ponies in the room. “But, we aren’t talking about its origins today. Instead, we will discuss the construction of the greatest testament to engineering known to equestria! The Arx Project.”
“A hundred years ago, a group of ponies came together in an attempt to do the impossible. They met at the edge of what we call the Everfree forest and discussed plans to utilize a new kind of magic that had been discovered only months before. These ambitious stallions and mares had one thing in common, the drive to do the impossible. With only the small amount of tools at their disposal, and an even more limited amount of magic, they conspired to prove the power of their newfound spell.”
“For the longest time, ponies never believed that they could build a lasting structure deep within the everfree. Even small houses and barns that had been too close to the everfree had been destroyed by the undulating encroachment of the forest. Then, a new type of magical spell was devised, and everything changed. It wasn’t your typical spell, for this spell was a type of delivery method, an enchantment. It allowed highly trained unicorns to cast enchantments that would last for years instead of minutes.”
“The spell itself had been developed over several years of careful research and execution in the highest secrecy. A long duration enchantment spell in the hooves of the nation’s enemies was a dangerous possibility. With that kind of power, the world could take a turn for the worst at any moment. They dubbed their work: Project Sequoia, and hid themselves away for years as they worked.”
“One of the interesting facts about Project Sequoia was its compartmentalization. Nopony, save one, was ever given access to the spell itself. During that time, equestria was facing heightened political tensions with it’s neighbors. The nation couldn’t risk letting such power leak with the loose cannons of its creators. With its borders still being established, there were threats of an invasion nearly every day. The Gryphon empire was quickly becoming infuriated with the new equestrian nation as the ponies began to expand outward toward their lands. The government was well aware of this approaching threat, and the two sisters decided to fund the project.”
“The Arx Project was initiated after the highest tensions of that time began to dwindle. With the world beginning to ask where their tax dollars were spent, the sisters forced Project Sequoia into the open. They did this, by authorizing construction of a castle deep in the Everfree. Despite the media outcry against the extravagant move, the sisters made a decree for their castle’s construction, and that is where the true challenge began.”
“That night, the ponies of the Sequoia Project met a group of the top engineers right outside of the forest. Through the night, they devised plans for what they dubbed The Arx Project. It would take an army of a thousand just to keep the forest clear long enough for the foundation of the castle to be laid. With such an impossible task ahead of them, the group was faced with a decision. They could reject the challenge, despite the direct order from the princesses, or they could carry on, and possibly create the most spectacular structure to date. As the sun rose on their meeting in the field, they decided not to try—but to succeed.”
“The Arx Project began the next day. Thousands of workers from every aspect of Equestrian life were called to help build the structure. They met on the edge of the everfree forest where the Sequoia Team briefed them on their mission. The everfree was known to be dangerous, but the project had already begun. When the team explained that not everypony would return, nopony budged. Everypony was willing to sacrifice themselves for the cause.”
“The hike lasted for three days, the ponies trudging through completely uncharted lands to the location that had been chosen overnight. Many stallions and mares lost their lives on that treacherous hike, but the team continued on. Most of those who died, died of starvation, a few died from predators, and fewer still died from separation. We have no numbers on the losses of that journey, but many lost a friend on that trip. It took two agonizing weeks to clear the forest, cut the stone, and lay the foundation to the castle.”
“Then, the caster arrived. The pony who knew the spell rode in on a royal escort. Nopony remembers his name, where he came from, or where he went, but everypony remembers what he did. It only took a second to cast that spell, but it has become one of the relics of the early Equestrian story.”
I couldn’t help but stare as Professor Bales paused his story. I had been so engrossed that I hadn’t realized the implications of his speech. He looked at us all, a sparkle in his eye as he prepared his always grand conclusion.
“That spell that was cast by that unnamed unicorn so many years ago has lasted for a hundred years. The Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters still stands today, functioning just the same as it always has. It has stood the test of the time.”
I was awestruck. My entire life I had never known of the Arx Project, yet it was so instrumental in creating the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. I was so amazed, but there was another part of me that was encouraged by that speech. I had somehow made the connection that my life was just like that castle. It was impossible for me to become anything more than an earth pony, I knew that I would be facing a situation just like that of the Arx Project.
They had no idea of what would become of their idea, but they decided to try, I thought as I began thinking of my own challenges, and somehow that gave me hope.
“There have been many theories on who that unicorn was,” the professor started again. “Some believe he was a time traveler, others believe that he was just a myth conjured up by the delusions of the workers, but no pony really knows the truth. Most believe it is better this way, and that pony’s identity is inconsequential to society, but his impact was monumental. All we know about him is the fact that he was a unicorn, that is all. We don’t even know if he was a she.”
Professor Bale’s eyes drifted up to the clock. He frowned.
“I suppose we will have to wait on the identity theories for a later time. Class is dismissed.”
I could feel the entire room let out a sigh of dismay. Everypony wanted the story to continue, but time would not allow. I, along with the rest of the class, sulked out of the room, and I began my routine to head to Chemistry. I had a skip in my step, a feeling I hadn’t had when I stepped into my class. I wasn’t ready, but I wasn’t going to back down. I wanted to redefine who I was, and I had that chance. I couldn’t just give it up, I had to try.
The journey that usually took a few short minutes, seemed to take hours. I was about to face one of the biggest challenges of my life, and to make matters worse, I knew it. Every other challenge came as a surprise, but this, I had waited for this for two days, and the time had finally come for me to make my choice.
I stepped into The Union, that building that had started as a shortcut to my class, but now represented a door, and a choice. As I strode through the halls, I was met with every feeling I had felt over the past few days. I was struck with this feeling of awe, a sense of wonder that seemed to flow from the walls like water. It embraced me, sending chills down my spine as I tried to keep a brisk pace. I was still on time for class, for that gait came naturally now, but part of me knew that I wouldn’t be attending chemistry. I rounded the corner and faced that final hall. It was time.
The door that stood at the end of the hall seemed to beckon me to leave The Union and pursue that world that I had always known. It was glass, and I could easily see through that portal to the world I had come to know. My pace slowed to a stop. The door to my right was solid wood, I hadn’t even been able to imagine the wonders of what may lay behind that door. I had no idea what I would be met with on the other side. It was as terrifying as it was exciting.
Time was ticking away, the seconds seeming like hours as my mind raced through all of the situations I had conceived. My hoof reached up to my bag, and slowly withdrew that small piece of paper that had those words scribbled on its surface. They had stirred such emotion in my soul, taken up so much of my mind, but now they seemed inconsequential. As I held that piece of paper in my hoof, I reached out for the door and froze. This is your future, my mind whispered as my hoof began to tremble. My gaze drifted to my left, toward that door of familiarity and the only stability I knew. Despite that world’s abuse, I had come to cherish its comforting regularity, it was one of the last things that I could hold onto, aside from the words on that page that had been taken out of context in a passing conversation. I had no idea what lay behind that door, what would greet me on the other side. It was terrifying.
I started to push, my mind seemingly stopping me from applying too much pressure. I pushed harder, trying to overcome that powerful urge to leave my future and simply stay in that mindset of being lesser. You aren’t good enough, my mind began to whispered as I pushed harder still. Now it seemed as though the door itself was fighting my every attempt to pursue my dreams. I had come so far only to have my mind and the world refuse entry to the one realm I wanted so desperately to be in. I struggled harder still, but the door did not move. I was being repulsed by everything around me, it was impossible.
And then I realized, the hinges were on my side of the door frame. I was supposed to pull.