//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 - Omnes Volumus 
// Story: A Ghost Within the Song 
// by Shadow_Wolf 
//------------------------------//

Theme: The Beauty of the Beast - Nightwish

Sometimes, at the very edge of their slumber, lay dreams of the lives they had once lived at their beginning; lives filled with hopes they could scarcely remember.  In those dreams they were ponies once more, with the earth beneath their hooves, the wind in their manes and magic in their spirits just as the makers had intended.  There, in those treasured moments, they once again knew who they had been and understood that fate was never cruel simply for the sake of cruelty.

At other times, at the very edge of their consciousness, lay nightmares of the lives that been stolen from them; lives filled with hopes they were now eternally denied.  In those nightmares they were monsters once more, salt upon their scales, waves around their spines and the eternal longing which filled their minds in ways he had never intended.  There, in those hated eons, they could no longer remember who they once were and realized that fate could never show kindness simply for the illusion of being kind. 

But no matter the machinations of dreams or the whimsy of fate, in the end it was the eternal dance partners of music and hunger which governed their existence, a hopelessly entwined duality of comfort and pleasure mixed with ambition and suffering.   Too often they dwelt upon those partners, certain that they two would vanish should one or the other abandon them; and more often than they would admit, they wished for that very occurrence.  It was in such moments that they questioned not only their purpose, but their very existence as well.

Who were they really?  Where did they come from?  Why did they suffer so?

Not matter how much they searched, no answers ever came to them - not in the dreams that plagued them, nor their thoughts upon waking - and yet somehow they moved on as they always had, unable to do otherwise for fear of finally succumbing to oblivion or worse.  But even though none of them would admit it, it was not simply fear or even ambition that drove them to go on.  

Somewhere, at the very edge of the veil between dream and reality, they could each recall a voice that had once called out to them and comforted them in their time of need.  A voice that had offered them a promise they could no longer remember in a language they could no longer understand; a promise of something more.  As days blurred into years, that splinter of memory became their most beloved treasure; and in their most cherished dreams, the sometimes even allowed themselves to hope that promise was real.





No matter where one lived, those who took the time to observe the world around them always took note of habitual, almost ritualistic, behaviors which occurred at regular intervals, and the City of Canterlot was no exception.  In particular, many of its citizens set their watches by the sudden outpouring of students from the town's euphoniously named High School; watching as they would rush to their favorite activities, all the while comparing their own school experiences to those of the modern generation.   As such, seeing a trio of teenage girls laughing and snickering as they made their way from the school seemed in no way unusual.  

Had anyone chosen to look closer, however, they would have noticed something far different.  

Eclectic in both appearance and dress, the girls did not appear to be the kind of people that would normally associate with each other beyond necessity, but their actions clearly showed familiarity outside what would have been considered normal.  Likewise, they all seemed to lean heavily against each other before staggering - or being pushed - away, their actions easily mistaken for drunkenness or worse as they nearly fell over each other every few steps while their laughter continued unabated.  Strangest of all, however, was the strange green mist that seemed to fill the area around them only to vanish a heartbeat later, leaving those who saw it questioning if it had really been there at all.  

But while fate had not smiled upon them in some time, she had chosen to wink at the trio that day, allowing them to make their way unhindered towards their destination, an unremarkable house in an unremarkable neighborhood several blocks form Canterlot High.  

For individuals who thrived on attention and adoration the house was far beyond plain, and while they would have preferred a luxurious mansion or ostentatious villa, until today such things had been beyond both the reach of the meager powers left to them by their banishment.  But even in their nearly drunken state, none of them gave even the slightest consideration to upgrading their living conditions.  A single story home built in a style which had been popular for decades - and which could barely be considered humble on the best of days - their home did not stand out in any way from its neighbors, which was precisely why they had originally chosen it. 

After all, it was a foolish predator indeed that announced its lair to its prey.  

With each step towards their front door, their giddiness intensified as as each of them simultaneously fumbled for their own key, a new wave of laughter erupting as they quickly made a game of seeing who could open the lock first.  On an ordinary day, such actions would have brought forth curses at the least or physical violence at worst, but the day had been anything but ordinary.  In their current state, the impromptu challenge ended with the door finally giving way to spill them into a pile in their foyer, each one looking and laying in a random direction.  

Disentangling themselves after a few minutes, their self-appointed leader stumbled towards the door, slamming it closed and bolting it before she turned back to them, another fit of giggles overtaking her as she slide down the surface to sit at its base.  At first, her companions stared at her in disbelief, but soon the infectious sounds caused them to break into further cackles of their own until their ribs began to ache from their actions.  How long they stayed that way before their leader's knife-like motion across her throat silenced them, none could guess; only that they dared not stand just yet, less they fall over once more.  

Shakily rising to her feet, the girl looked at the others and smiled as she said, "Alright girls, get comfortable and relax, it's been a long day and we need to save our energy for the good stuff tomorrow."

Despite the command, none of them moved for several more moments, but eventually they each managed to rise by bracing themselves against various walls, still fighting the occasional giggle as they departed for their respective rooms.  By some unspoken agreement, none said anything about what the next day could bring, for the coming events no longer seemed to matter to them; for now, they simply allowed themselves to luxuriate in the long lost sensation of Equestrian Magic and, more importantly, the feeling of satiated hunger.  Unbeknownst to any of them, however, each was also becoming filled with an unfamiliar sensation they could not explain, for as their hunger abated, so had their anger and hatred, leaving them all honestly happy for the first time that any of them could remember.