Controlling the Sparkle

by The Great Turnip


Prologue

Prologue – Diary Entry 1

A wonderful introduction to life in the big city indeed! Within my first few weeks of residence here, not only have I been consistently sneered upon by practically everypony whom I’ve happened upon (whether on the basis of envy or ignorant superiority I’m unsure), but now I’ve been stricken by some insatiable disease that appears fixed in its intent to claim my life! Oh, how I miss the tranquillity of life in Ponyville; the succulent scent of Sweet Apple Acre’s apple trees in the summer, the inescapable beauty of the snow-laden landscape in winter – and most importantly, the all-year-round hospitality of its inhabitants. Each time I think back to my home tears threaten to fill my eyes; I do so wish to be among my friends but for a few minutes! The concept of spending a further five years away from them all is almost too much to bear...

Not that I was necessarily forced to migrate to Canterlot – quite the contrary, I’d been so overcome by enthusiasm upon hearing the news that I’d almost fainted! Just the thought of it... a small town Unicorn like me travelling to the almost mythical city of Canterlot to study under the Princess herself – if I recall correctly I practically bounced the entire way! So enraptured at the prospect was I that any sense of logical reasoning that I possessed (and I possess a great deal) had been swiftly suspended – ironically when such reasoning would have come most useful. I barely even considered how alien such a change in scenery would prove to be; how dramatic the change in customs, in personality and even lifestyle of those who live here.


I would feel completely lost in the metaphorical darkness of my current situation, were it not for my one guiding light – the Princess. She, at least, has met and surpassed my expectations in every way imaginable! As the legends have always said – she possesses such beauty, such grace and such kindness that one might think one has died and ascended to the heavens! On first meeting, the emotions that her mere presence first elicited were those of joy, awe and...slight intimidation – after all, when one is speaking to a literal deity; it is excruciatingly difficult to quell one’s nerves. But from the first syllable she uttered, all of my initial nerves were instantly dispelled; her voice betrayed such kindness and wisdom – one could do little but feel safe. If only I could spend my time perpetually at her side, this wretched home-sickness would be instantly purged!

Understandably, somepony as busy as her cannot afford to spend more than a few hours a day with me, but the lessons that the Princess sets me each day generally keep feelings of home-sickness at bay... even if those are swiftly replaced by other negative feelings. The workload is indeed strenuous, at times tiresomely so – but over the years I’ve become used to studying for what could (and usually are) be perceived as absurd amounts of time. Indeed, my friends often claimed that I loved books more than them, although that’s only partly true...

At any rate, my illness has all but ended any chance of me studying with any degree of effectiveness, so the Princess advised that I record the rather interesting events of the previous few days in a written form. In effect, doing this will be hitting three Pegasi with one pie; as not only will this solve the problem of my boredom and give me an opportunity to continually utilise precise magic (writing with hooves is a rather too difficult affair), but the Princess says it will help me process the meanings of the stories that she appears keen on giving me throughout the duration of my illness. Not that I’m complaining, her stories are always remarkably interesting and fascinating; often completely destroying my preconceptions on a subject!

My key problem lay not within the workload itself... more the subject of the lessons that I’d been set. Almost all had revolved around the control of my magical ability rather than the expansion of my knowledge of spells and the likes, an essential topic to be sure – but one that every Unicorn learns as a foal! I couldn’t help but ask myself: does the Princess really think so lowly of me, her supposedly “star pupil”?

To further exacerbate matters, I was confined to my quarters in the castle due to my rather sporadic and grave illness. This provided a perfect environment for my insidious thoughts to develop and begin to slowly eat away at my mind; what I initially put down to be mere paranoia became a blatant reality in a matter of days. By this point, my basic line of reasoning went as follows: If the Princess was restricting me to such simple practices, had I done something that led her to doubt my aptitude with magic? I even went as far to consider the idea that the Princess may not wish to keep me as her pupil – a rather steep slippery slope of an argument to adopt to be sure; but with the combination of my illness and my potent emotional response to such a prospect, I doubt I can be blamed for forgoing logical reasoning.

Whilst among my friends I can be known as a “book-worm” who takes the prospect of failure rather poorly – I don’t believe that such a stereotypical description accurately befits me. My parents have in fact always instilled upon me values of diligence and determination, so as opposed to meekly resigning myself to my perceived fate, I did what I always do in these situations: I “hit” the books, determined to prove to the Princess that I was indeed worthy enough to be her pupil.

The results however...were not overly successful.

Apparently, the Princess was summoned to my quarters at some ungodly hour of the night, as one of the guards on his evening patrol noticed smoke pouring out from underneath the door. Whether or not the Princess was utilising hyperbole whilst describing the state I was found in to me the next morning (as her melancholy laughter would suggest), her portrayal of events was indeed more than a little shocking. Half of the furniture within the room had been transformed into plants of varying species, whilst the rest was either on fire, or soon to be on fire. According to the Princess, I lay at the centre of this bizarre scene, surrounded by a sphere of pure magic. The most perplexing thing – I retained no recollection of such events... the last thing I remember was discovering a spell in one of the many books at my bed side that certainly looked impressive, but after that...it was all blank. Ironically, perhaps, it appears that I lost control.

The Princess, as I relayed my perspective of events back to her, found this irony rather humorous – her usually perfect face creased, suggesting that she could barely seem to contain her laughter as she stood by my new bedside. I distinctly remember myself blushing from the sheer embarrassment of the situation, a reaction which I attempted to hide by subtly pulling the bed sheet over my face (a surprisingly difficult challenge when one is gifted with hooves). Not only had I neglected to heed her advice based on so many flimsy assumptions (and paid a price for it) but now the Princess herself was laughing at my transgression. In that moment I was sure that she would remove me as her pupil....

“Oh, Twinkle!” the Princess exclaimed merrily, doing her best to quell her now abundant laughter. “You never cease to bring something interesting to an otherwise monotonous day!”

For a moment, I could not decipher whether this was a compliment or a mockery, but given the benevolence of the Princess before me, I deduced her comment was of the former nature – even if it did appear that I had temporarily assumed the role of jester as opposed to student. At any rate, I held the bed sheets closer to my face, fearful that the rosy red that inhabited my cheeks would be seen.

“I do apologise for my laughter, Twinkle, it was not my intention to embarrass you so. You simply remind me a great deal of a friend from long ago, she retained a similar pride that resonates so fully in you!” The sheet remained over my head, admittedly I was again somewhat confused as to whether this was a compliment or an insult. “But that’s a story for another time, for now at let me put your mind at ease – I have no intention of removing such a promising young Unicorn from my teaching. That, I can assure you,”

The news did wonders to calm my frightful heart, hearing such words coming from the Princess brought an abrupt end to the torment my mind had undergone in the past few days. In its place, however, my sense of foolishness increased tenfold upon the revelation that I’d worried myself about nothing, suspending reason and instead following the path laid out by my uncontrolled emotions like some petty foal. I audibly sighed, pulling the bed sheets from my face (almost tearing the delicate linen on my horn) and stared down at my hooves, utterly disappointed in myself. Even if the Princess did not wish to dismiss me, I felt that I surely deserved it.

“Come now, Twinkle – you are far too hard on yourself. You have come here to learn, have you not? And do we not learn the most from our mistakes?” Her words penetrated my self-made cocoon of disparity with remarkable ease, soothing me with the kind message that they carried. Even if such a lesson was already known to me, sometimes lessons needed reiteration from a person other than oneself.

“Yes, Princess,” I murmured meekly in reply. While such advice may be sound, I’ve never been one to take failure well – especially when I commit such failure in the presence of somepony of such esteemed personage. I momentarily froze when I felt the touch of her muzzle upon my brow, gently lifting my head up to meet her warm gaze.

“Even I, Equestria’s supposedly omnipotent ruler, am prone to the occasional lapse of judgement – in fact, I distinctly remember myself losing control on multiple occasions in my earlier years; my afore-mentioned friend too, for that matter! When a pony is gifted with any large quantity of magic, complete control can take a lifetime to properly master – a Unicorn is effectively trying to impose order on an ultimately natural entity. I’ve been rather impressed that this is only your second time undergoing such a loss of control – especially when one considers your currently unstable health condition!”

Whilst the Princess did seem to be cunningly appealing to my (admittedly high levels of) arrogance throughout this perfectly executed lecture, I couldn’t help but feel comforted by the prospect that even the Princess herself initially had difficulty with control. That is, until I recalled her specifically mentioning that this had been the “second time” I’d lost control...as far as I had been aware, the previous night had been the only time!

“Um...second time, Princess?” I asked softly, rather worried by the fact that I possessed no memory of such an event occurring before last night. The Princess paused for a moment, before emitting a soft giggle as realisation struck her.

“Again, I apologise Twinkle, it has been a while since I myself have undergone such an action – so I momentarily forgot the loss of memory a Unicorn undergoes during such an event. As you are not entirely conscious when it occurs, it’s no wonder that you have no recollection of the first event. It was rather spectacular if I do recall, the invigilators were most displeased by their temporary vegetable-theme transformations! I hadn’t laughed so hard in a long while!”

Ignoring this rather sadistic turn in humour of the Princess, I mulled this new information over for a short while, at least that explained why exactly I had been chosen to be taught by the Princess – when I’d awoken the proceeding day I’d been in my house as usual. I’d simply assumed that I had failed the entrance examination so completely that my mind had closed off all memories of such an event (an unusually common experience for me).

Yes, it was a pretty perturbing thought to consider, completely losing control of my magic twice in a period of a month – but the Princess was, as usual, right. A far healthier attitude to adopt would be to treat these failures as lessons which I can learn from – and if nothing else this revelation certainly impressed upon me the importance of control.

“Thank you, Princess; as usual your wisdom far exceeds my own.” I eventually said humbly, before starting to unwrap myself from the tangled mesh of bed sheets. I decided that if I were to adopt the mentality of viewing failures as lessons, I would approach them in the same way that I approach lessons – diligently. “I’ll get studying immediately,”

But as I tried to pull myself up onto four hooves, I suddenly became aware of the fatigued state my body had entered – weariness suddenly engulfed me, and I instantly fell back against the plump cushions, rather dazed by my strange ordeal. The Princess giggled sweetly, most likely humoured by my impatience to continue my studies.

“I’m afraid you’ve yet to recover fully, Twinkle; sudden expulsion of such magical power combined with your illness has undoubtedly left your body in a slightly fragile state. It appears more bed rest will be in order, for the moment,”

Overcome by annoyance, I let out an indignant huff in protest against my exhausted equine body – if there had ever been one thing I’ve detested, it’s periods of inactivity. Lethargy is a near alien term to me, I’d always preferred to commit my time to something worthwhile; the concept of further bed rest was one that sat poorly with me. Oh! If only my body could have kept up with my mind!

I looked up with tentative annoyance at the Princess as she commences her delicate laughter once more; I failed to see any humour in my current situation, perhaps my reactions further elicited nostalgia within her?

With so much free time now on my hooves, I suddenly found myself overcome by intrigue by the Princess’ constant references to this mystery “friend” of hers. The simple fact that an Alicorn such as the Princess, who has undoubtedly lived for centuries, remembers this pony in particular led me to deduce that she held relative important for the Princess, which certainly spiked my interest. Furthermore, if this “friend” of the Princess’ was a Unicorn like me... there was a strong possibility that it would be beneficial if I were to understand how she learnt to gain control.

“Princess...you mentioned that the friend who I remind you of...had similar difficulties with control; if it’s not too personal a question, may I enquire how she dealt with the matter?”

The Princess blinked, seemingly being caught off-guard by the nature of my question; this and the proceeding few moments of eerie silence led me to fear that I’d approached a far too personal matter. The Princess’ usually direct and kind gaze had momentarily clouded over into one that could only be of deep thought mixed withwith...perhaps even a slight sadness, a look that I had never before bore witness too. My lack of experience with the Princess acting in this manner led me to grow worried that I had brought up a potentially painful matter.

“I sincerely apologise if I’ve brought up a painful subject, your majesty!” I hastily add, “I’m afraid I let my curiosity get the better of me...” The idea that I’d potentially hurt the Princess in any way sent tremors of guilt through my heart, too often have I made the foolish mistake of forgetting that my teacher’s are susceptible to emotions, and are not simply databases of information for me to consult! The Princess’ gaze immediately returned to its usual state of tranquil kindness as my voice anchored her back in reality, momentarily quelling the steady tide of memories.

“There is no need to be so formal around me, Twinkle. I may be a Princess, but I would wish you to also consider me a friend – whilst such etiquette is flattering, it is also unnecessary. Part of the fun of having a personal student such as you is to rather selfishly breach my own isolation,” Before I could aptly consider the prospect of the Princess herself feeling isolated (my mind being far too caught up in the childish yet delectable glee that accompanied the fact that the Princess wished to be my friend!), she continued, a reassuring smile that radiated warmth now spread across her lips. “And there is no need to apologise, my student; those memories that you have stirred up yield only happiness for me. The pain of being an Alicorn living among mortal creatures is one I have learnt to overcome – whilst short-lived, such relationships burn with the incandescence of a thousand supernovas, and from that I can take solace.”

Foolishly, I’d only ever considered what it would be like to be an immortal being from an idealistic, romanticised perspective. With this small snippet of reality the Princess had provided me with, I could not help but consider such a thing more of curse than gift... outliving generation after generation of your friends is a prospect I could not even begin to imagine. Yet the way the Princess described her perspective served to escalate the awe I held for her... to combat such potentially devastating sadness with such a beautiful image showed her to be both pragmatic and wise.

“But the answer to your question is one that I can only properly address in a narrative form, one that over the years you will become accustomed to me using, I find it to be a far more exhilarating way of expressing lessons. And given your current state, I can see no better way to teach,” A story, I remember thinking, certainly a strange way of answering my question – but then again, if the Princess believed this to be the best course of action, then I would not doubt her again. “That and it gives me an excuse to spend some extra with my favourite pupil, I’m sure Equestria can govern itself for a while,” the Princess added with a sly wink, causing the rosy colour to once again return to my cheeks. She chose spending time with me over ruling Equestria?! It took all my pride not to emit a girlish squeal of unbridled joy and I fear were it not for the fatigued state of my body even that would have proved too futile to prevent me from bouncing up and down on the bed!

“The story accounts for certainly one of the more interesting experiences that I and my friends went through together, and many valuable lessons lie within, including but not exclusive to the importance and methods of controlling one’s magic. Tell me, Twinkle, have you heard of the Elements of Harmony?”

I nodded my head curtly in response to her question. Everypony in Equestria, let alone Ponyville, had heard the myth of the dreaded and ironically named Elements of Harmony. But as far I knew, it was but a myth that parents told to their disobedient children.

“Only briefly...although I thought they were little more than an old pony’s tale designed to scare young fillies?” Judging by the Princess’ visible flinch at my response, it was evident that I’d been pretty seriously misinformed. “I guess I’m wrong?” I added sheepishly, embarrassed by my apparent ignorance.

“No, you’re correct... in so far as that is what their memory has regressed to over the centuries. They were, however, very much real, and the friend who you remind me of was one of them,”

The very fact that a source as credible as the Princess confirmed the terrible myth’s reality shocked me initially, I’d thought a tale of destruction of such a scale could only be confined in the realms of mythology, of fiction – it seemed utterly bizarre to conceive that a real group of ponies could ever act so malevolently! This led to the question of how in Equestria I could ever remind the Princess of one of their cruel number?! The Princess did not fail to pick up on my shock.

“Twinkle, please do bear in mind that the reality of the events that transpired are rather different to the events depicted in the fictitious rendition – an overly-dramatic perspective to the events such as that is one that would inevitably spread like wildfire throughout Equestria. The truth can oft be sadly erased in by fiction,” The morbid tone with which the Princess translated this information quelled my tempestuous thoughts somewhat, but a question still begged to be voiced.

“But Princess! Surely the events can only be warped by perspective only so much? If even a smallest piece of the myth holds true... do they not deserve to be remembered in such a way?” I asked, my voice completely betraying my disgruntlement at being considered similar to one of their number.

“Calm yourself, Twinkle, I fear your temper is clouding your judgement. One cannot make such generalisations from mere results, one must consider the events that led to the results,” The Princess responded sharply, striking me into silence with the unexpected vehemence in her tone, let alone the fiery gaze that she held. One thing about the Princess was certainly clear by such a response, when riled she is exceptionally effective at making one feel like a new-born foal. She immediately seemed apologetic, however.

“But come,” the Princess said soothingly as she rested her haunches next to my bed, making herself comfortable in preparation for what would turn out to be a long and engaging tale, “An intelligent pony such as yourself should be able to make your own conclusions as I relay to you what really happened...”