These papers were again extracted from the desk of Twilight Sparkle, though they are dated later than the original journal entries.
My journal has finally caught up with recent events. The following will be recorded as it happens. My continued efforts to translate the Volumes of Vehement Vengeance were rewarded yesterday, as I uncovered one more changeling spell. This one did not require any ingredients and was quite modern in its simplicity. Most spells nowadays require only a specific state of mind, rather than alchemical ingredients. Whether potion-brewing can be considered a legitimate school of magic is still hotly debated.
In any case, the Volume stayed silent regarding the nature of the spell. “Crops,” it was labeled. It was a bit more austere than I had anticipated. I considered the spell and what casting it would likely mean. This was yet another tidbit of bygone knowledge. I was obligated to see what this spell did; however, the last spell I took from these books really did not work out as well as I would’ve liked. My curiosity unleashed a horrific creature the likes of which Equestria had not previously seen. Innocent woodland creatures were likely consumed, and the beast left some ponies homeless. It could certainly have gotten worse than it did, but I wasn’t keen on trying my luck.
I made my decision on impulse. I had to see what the charm did. Apparently, it had something to do with the produce. Maybe it improved fertility. Maybe it would boost the harvest.
The wind had been unforgiving since I destroyed the artificial creature. It blew from all directions, flowing through every nook and cranny. I had entertained thoughts that the timing of the wind was more than mere correlation, but that was silly.
I arrived to the edge of the Apple family’s corn fields well after dark. The night was still but not silent. The chirps of the crickets permeated the darkness. I chose a healthy-looking corn stalk and focused on it. After a few moments of intense concentration, I cast the spell. As before, nothing happened at first. Then, the stalk slowly started to turn black under the light of my lantern. As I watched, the blackness spread to the corn itself, and when I peeled back the leaves I saw that it had turned neon violet. I was aware that certain breeds of corn were purple, but these cobs were of an ethereal pallor and appeared to glow in the dark. This unsettled me. I ripped the altered stalk from the earth and carried it back home.
I lacked the means to determine the properties of the plant. I certainly wasn’t willing to taste it myself. I took one of the cobs and decided to ask Zecora to inspect it later. I burned the rest of the stalk in the laboratory downstairs. The flames turned bright pink as they fed off of the alien plant. The day was spent. I made my way quietly to the bedroom on the top floor. Spike had already fallen asleep. As I mounted the stairs, I got the feeling that I was being watched. I glanced briefly at my surroundings. Shadows danced just out of reach of the candlelight. Ridiculous. The library was empty. The darkness engulfed me as I lay on the bed.
Once again, I found myself traversing the foreboding landscapes of the Gray Domain. I was surrounded by standing stones in a large fenced-in area situated atop a clump of black earth drifting through the void. This was a graveyard. I was reminded of my earlier ruminations concerning the nature of death. I could not read the text engraved into the tombstones. It appeared to be the same patchwork dialect that was arranged in the Volumes. This burial ground belonged to the changelings of days past. Again I felt observed. As I turned I saw the stallion. He was standing a fair ways away, beneath a grim statue of some changeling god. I approached him, noting the details as I went. He was apparently an earth pony of a common chestnut color, perhaps slightly taller than most. He wore a wide brimmed fedora and small black spectacles. In his mouth he held a long ivory cane, which I took to mean that he was blind. He was outfitted in a dapper suit so I couldn’t see his cutie mark, if he had one. He spoke.
“Twilight Sparkle. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”
His voice was strangely musical. His tone kept changing as though he was not accustomed to speaking my language. The cane in his teeth failed to impede his speech and I could not catch his mouth move at all.
“And you are..?” I shifted nervously as I addressed him.
“Alas, your vocal cords are far too primitive to effectively pronounce my name. If you feel the need, you may address me as Solitaire.”
I shifted gears hastily, trying to stay calm.
“So you’re… one of them?” I gestured at the ever-present black forms dotting the sky around us.
“If you like. Yes. Though We’d prefer not to be lumped together like that. Hopefully you’ll be a tad less offensive the next time you speak to one of my stature.”
I felt bubbling irritation beneath my initial layer of unease. I’d spent what might have been half a minute in the deity’s company and his mannerisms were already beginning to grate.
“Oh, come now. Don’t be like that. It might be difficult to tell, but it’s been a millennium or two since I spoke to my last mortal.”
“Then why are you talking to me?” I demanded, ignoring the fact that he may have seen my thoughts somehow. “You’re a creature! How can you understand us? How can you communicate at all?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, young Twilight. Your peoples’ motives and reasons for living are painfully transparent to Us. I am among those that have taken a personal interest in the upper layers. Firstly, I wish to congratulate you on your progress in dispelling the veil and bringing Our influence into your kingdom, the fair Equestria.”
His sightless eyes scanned the derelict graveyard.
“There were others who attempted similar endeavors. They were arrogant beyond all hope, unfit to occupy Our space. They passed their dusty knowledge on to you, in the hopes that you would follow in their footsteps and grow corrupt, as they are.” He smirked. “That may yet happen. Azherkin will weigh your heart and determine whether you are deserving of Our gifts.”
The more Solitaire revealed, the more I wished he’d stay quiet.
“No! I didn’t want this!”
“You didn’t? And yet you continue translating the eldritch tomes? And yet you cast not one but two spells from these books? The second of which is taking effect as we speak?”
He sighed.
“I think it’s time you made your choice. To continue on the path to the Gray Domain in search of something more… or to cling to your old life and cast aside this reckless gamble of yours. Either will have its consequences, some more expansive than you will ever know. You can no longer cling to your old naïveté, nor can you accuse Us of deceiving you.”
He bowed stiffly.
“Whichever you decide, obviously I wish you nothing but success.”
I awakened as he turned away from me. The morning light shone through the window and onto my face. I stumbled out of bed, slightly disoriented. Trying to hold onto my memories of the dream, I hastily transcribed what the stallion told me onto a spare piece of parchment and stared at it for some time. He told me I had to choose. He hinted that if I were to continue translating the Volumes things would change. I grabbed some oats for breakfast and chewed on them thoughtfully. This Solitaire… He wouldn’t lie, would he? I looked at the parchment again. He mentioned that the second spell was still taking effect. I went downstairs and checked on the altered corncob. It was unchanged. I was apprehensive.
I trotted to the Apple family’s corn fields once more. Once I arrived, I saw Applejack standing quietly by the stalks, a fair number of which have begun to transform. Although the wind had ceased for now, the black stalks continued to move restlessly.
“Ain’t never seen anythin’ like this, Twilight. I reckon this ‘ere’s some new disease spreadin’ through the fields.”
“It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it,” I said quietly.
“No kiddin’,” she picked up a pulsing violet cob. For a moment I feared that she would take a bite, but she let it fall again. “An’ I don’t suppose jes’ rippin’ out the bad ones’ll really solve anything.”
“No. You’re right.” I felt pretty pessimistic about this discovery. I’d only changed one plant. The infection was spreading through the air. No amount of counter-magic would save the fields. Applejack gave me a long look.
“What brings you here, Twilight? Didja know about this?”
“W-well, I… I just had a bad feeling, is all.”
We heard the sound of dry leaves being crushed underhoof. Rarity was approaching.
“Huh. Looks like you ain’t the only one. I’ll never understand you unicorn folk.”
What reason did Rarity have for being here? It was out of the ordinary that she would appear so close to the filthy farms. Had she followed me? I wasn’t feeling up to dealing with her just now. I walked past without sparing her a second glance. In the evening, Spike informed me that Rarity had asked him to send a mysterious letter to Princess Celestia. I considered asking him to disallow any future mail, but quickly dismissed the idea. Rarity would get even more suspicious. Furthermore, Spike’s crush on her would likely prevent him from carrying out my orders.
As I recorded the day’s events he barged into the room, holding a note from the Princess in one stubby claw. As before, I’ve attached this letter below.
The aforementioned letter follows.
Twilight, my most faithful student,
It has been brought to my attention that you appear to be preoccupied with something lately. I had heard of your success in defeating a most unusual foe by using questionable means. Also, I’d received reports of various disquieting occurences in Ponyville, and I suspect you may know more about this than you’re letting on. Please relax. I know how you tend to get worked up over things that don’t necessarily deserve it. You’re not in trouble. I understand that the trains on the Canterlot line are not moving as of yet, so I’ve decided to pay you a visit myself, in two days’ time. I hope you’ll be prepared to receive me then.
Sincerely,
Princess Celestia